29. We're Homeless and Unemployed

 Clang.

It was a surreal feeling. For the first time in almost a month, Lux’s foot fell on not dirt, nor stone, nor snow, but metal. He stepped through the circular entrance of the hanging carriage, feeling it sway beneath his feet.

It was nearly twenty feet in length, seemingly sculpted from a single piece of metal, so that it felt like standing inside a seed capsule. Two rows of benches ran along each wall, separated by a boot-scuffed mural painted on the floor. It depicted row upon row of golden buildings, like an impossibly steep hill.

Through the roof of the car ran the giant rope, their one protection from a terminal plummet. Tiny windows allowed passengers to see the dizzying heights they would reach.

Lux swallowed. Despite owning wings for the past couple of months, he had discovered something important: he was terminally hamstrung by a fear of heights.

The carriage rocked again as Valerios stepped in, causing him to lose his footing with a curse. Lux’s sea legs kept him upright. Perhaps if he just thought of it as a boat? A tin-can boat, suspended hundreds of feet in the air…

Kazzik plopped down and propped his feet up on the opposing bench with a sigh. Freija, her path blocked, scowled at him until he moved.

“I can almost taste it,” Kazzik sighed. “Soft beds and hot baths. Resting our heads in the lap of luxury. We’ve been on the road so long I’m sure my spine will never recover.”

Lux raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t travel kinda your whole thing? Being Mirazh’s bloodhound and all.”

Kazzik didn’t seem to take offence to the description.

“I love visiting somewhere new,” he said introspectively. “Indulging in all its splendours, then ferreting out its dirty little secrets. The only part I dislike is having to get there. It’s the destination, not the journey, for me.”

Caela and Johannes took their seats, Johannes’ cane ringing on the metal floor. Mene followed at their heels, almost entirely blocking the aisle with his fluffy bulk. Ash brought up the rear, sealing the door behind her with a solid clunk.

She smiled at them all, a little nervously. “Here we go!”

Reaching up, she pressed the silver ribbon to the fibrous length of rope spanning the ceiling. When her hand came away, the ribbon remained, faintly shimmering. Then, like a caterpillar on a vine, it scrunched up and began to inch along the rope. The carriage shook, then began gliding up the ropeway, keeping the creeping ribbon in its centre.

They ascended slowly but steadily. Mene pushed his wet nose up against the glass, snuffling interestedly at the snowflakes drifting around them. Johannes examined the carriage’s mechanisms with great interest, quizzing Ash on how it all worked. Lux totally lost the thread of the technical conversation, but the younger wizard seemed to be flattered to be asked.

Instead, Lux turned his attention to the far end of the car, where a serious discussion was taking place.

“Explain again, young lord,” Valerios said in a low voice, “what we are supposed to be looking for in this treehouse city?”

“Yeah,” Freija cut in, resting her chin in her palm. “How do we know you’re actually going to help with my island problem?”

Kazzik flipped open his spellbook, slender fingers coming to rest on the page containing the spiky symbol he’d shown them in San Aria.

“Remember this?” he asked.

They nodded.

“I didn’t want to say before, for obvious reasons,” Kazzik looked abashed. “But this is Mirazh’s sigil. It’s all over her domain.”

Valerios frowned. “Then the boxes in the San Aria labs…”

Kazzik nodded. “Hers.”

“And the things inside them,” Valerios went on slowly.

“Those too.” Kazzik shut the book halfway. “She called them lusul anam.”

The fiendish tongue made Lux’s head hurt.

“What does that mean?” Freija asked.

“Something like… ‘soul leech’.” Kazzik grimaced. “She wouldn’t tell me much, but she went mental when all three went missing. Nothing like the hellhounds, where at least she has spares.”

“The hellhounds were released by the amulet.” Valerios was clearly thinking hard. “You think these leeches were taken the same way.”

Kazzik made a loose gesture. “More or less. The hellhounds were accidental. Someone took the leeches on purpose.”

“On purpose?” Freija tilted her head quizzically. “By who?”

Caela’s eyes widened. “Vozloc.”

Kazzik rewarded her with two finger guns.

“He had the amulet,” Caela said, the words tumbling out now. “And right before we started investigating him, his cottage was attacked.”

Valerios nodded along. “His words were those of a soldier gone rogue. He assumed we were assassins sent by his former commander.”

“And Ash’s vision,” Caela added, fumbling in her bag. She smoothed the crumpled purple envelope with shaking fingers. “You faced the rot, but didn’t dig it out. Its source is in Aegiswood, where it has taken root within the silver tree.”

Kazzik snapped his book shut.

“Aegiswood,” he said. “Where the amulet was headed.”

The implication hung there.

“So if we follow it-” Caela said quietly.

Valerios grinned a humourless smile. “We find the head of the snake.”

“Steal my big finale, why don’t you,” Kazzik sighed. “But yes, exactly.”

Freija pulled her knees up, hugging them to her chest. Mene’s bulk immediately flowed into the space, the wolf collapsing at her feet with a contented sigh. Her gaze returned to the wall of silver bark approaching through the cloudy glass.

“Only a whole entire city to search through, then,” she sighed. “What was the name the dwarves gave us? ‘Urine’? If this is another sewer adventure…” She shuddered.

“Uri,” Johannes corrected her. “And fear not. Our recipient is most likely a go-between for the amulet’s true, shadowy owners. They will be waiting to collect it from the Steelbeards somewhere in Lecorce and walk it through the Jardinian Gate straight into The Cambium. The Nephelauts on the gate wouldn’t give our courier a second look.”

There was a moment of baffled silence.

“Well, duhhh,” Freija said, looking as if she wasn’t even convincing herself. “But for everyone else’s benefit, could we get a glossary?”

Very slowly, Kazzik reopened his book and flicked his wrist, summoning a quill from smoke. With an expectant look, he poised it to take notes.

Ash folded her arms, frowning. “Of course, it’s a lot to take in if you’ve never” – she glanced at Johannes – “been here before.”

She shook some bangles at the platform they were approaching. “What you can see from the outside is just the outer district: Lecorce. It’s the original city of the Aegiswood elves, but now its population is fairly mixed.”

The carriage glided into a cut in the lowest platform of the city, rattling to a stop. Ash heaved open the door mechanism and led them onto solid ground.

“For the last couple of centuries, it’s been the gathering place for traders and travellers,” she explained, leading them along a broad, paved avenue.

It felt so solid beneath Lux’s feet that it was almost possible to forget their altitude. He could only catch glances of the distant ground in between rows of buildings that were both austere and elegant. Each window frame and gutter was sculpted to look like twisting flora – although, in the centuries since their carving, even these stone plants were beginning to degrade.

Ash winced at the crumbling masonry. “Sorry it’s a bit run-down.”

Lecorce’s age had weight – it was nearly tangible, history made plain to the naked eye. Every cracked façade, every faded shop sign, held the faded grandeur of a heyday that had ended long before Lux was born.

He thought it was one of the most beautiful places he’d ever seen.

Ash led them from one pool of lanternlight to the next, their shadows the only other pedestrians on the chilly streets. After a while, she pointed up. Her tour group craned their necks to observe a huge stone door carved into Aegiswood’s vast trunk. It was a solid slab carved with the impression of a stern, crowned man bearing a hammer. As they watched, it began to open up like a drawbridge, forming a golden halo around the rim of the doorframe as it descended towards a nearby platform.

“The Nephelauts that Johannes mentioned are the city’s elite guard, and that is their most important charge: the Jardinian Gate. One of the King’s great works. I meant it when I said he basically built this place. It’s the only way into the Cambium, the inner city.”

Ash’s voice took on a note of pride.

“That’s where I live, in the Mages’ College. It’s all going on in there – the Xylem River, the Palais de Bourgeon, plus the best sweets shop in the known world.” Her eyes sparkled. “I can’t wait to show you.”

“Why wait at all?” Kazzik cut in, eyes gleaming. “It’s late, and I could do with a hot bath at, oh, let’s say… the second-nicest tavern in town.”

“Sure you can afford it?” Ash gave him an impish smile. He made a face back.

“I’m not joking,” she continued. “I couldn’t live there if the College didn’t give me free lodging. So unless you walked over those mountains with a fat purse jangling on your belt, you’ll need to temper your expectations.”

“Don’t worry, fresher,” Kazzik said with disdain. “I’ve got a rainy-day fund – and trust me, it rains a lot back in Balatar. It’s hidden in a secret compartment of the cart…”

His condescending smile shattered into a million pieces.

“Oh,” Caela exclaimed. “The cart was in the barn when it caught fire. It must’ve been washed away in Freija’s flood.”

“I know,” Kazzik said through gritted teeth.

“So no fancy rooms?” Freija asked, looking stricken. “Oh, Kazzik, I really am sorry.”

For once, it sounded like she meant it. Apparently she’d been looking forward to them as much as Kazzik.

Valerios sighed. “Once again, we are homeless and unemployed, with nothing but pocket change and the clothes on our backs. Caela, do you happen to have a relative in this city too?”

“That’s rough, buddy,” Lux said, placing a sympathetic hand on Kazzik’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we can make the money back in no time by running a few errands. Perhaps there’s some kind of job board in Aegiswood?” He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

Kazzik placed his hands on his knees, looking like he was about to throw up.

“Goodness,” Johannes said. “That is rather alarming.”

“So is your knowledge about Aegiswood,” Ash replied, with a wary half-smile. “What are you, a local? You should’ve said.”

An awkward silence drew out between her and the rest of the group. Johannes scratched his nose uncomfortably. Ash’s face fell.

“Is this to do with the…” She glanced around, lowering her voice. “With the people you’re hiding from?”

Johannes wrestled with some internal dilemma before reaching a decision.

“I will tell you,” he murmured, “since I have no doubt you are talented and nosy enough to divine it anyway - and I would much rather be able to warn you.”

The party formed a warm huddle, the wizards cheek-to-cheek at its centre.

“What do you know of Mulmais?” Johannes asked. His eyes scoured Ash’s curious expression for a flicker of recognition. After a moment, he huffed softly. “Your teachers do not espouse their own history, I suppose.”

He silenced Ash’s protest with a gesture.

“I do not expect you to accept this story, only to understand it, so that you can never repeat its details to another soul in the Mages’ College.”

“Many years ago, members of that institution did that village - my village - a great injustice. We few survivors of the Mulmais Affair did not recognise ourselves afterwards.” He paused. “I left these lands, content to forgive and forget – and to escape the cover-up.”

He stared sternly up at the Gate above. “The College did not want their little accident publicised. They appear to have succeeded in that endeavour. But I ask that you never mention that town, or my family name, while we reside here. Not only for my own safety, but for yours, lest the conspirators decide they must prune an errant shoot.”

Ash recoiled from the huddle, clutching her head.

“I…” she began, then forced a weak smile. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. I’m sure there’s some explanation, though. The College would never…”

She trailed off, before reasserting herself.

“I should be heading home. I promise I won’t say anything to anyone. But we should talk again.” Her blank white eyes were earnest. “I’m sure we can find out the whole picture.”

Johannes nodded, giving her the sympathetic smile of a doctor with bad news.

Ash’s lip wobbled only a little as she pointed up the gently sloping street.

“At the top of this street is the Verdant Repose. It’s nice, for Lecorce, and it’s got a platform to itself. I’ll come find you in the morning.”

Caela took her hand.

“Thank you, Ash. We wouldn’t have made it here without you.”

Ash laughed, a little flustered. “Don’t thank me yet – there’s plenty of time for me to get you into trouble. I’ve still got to show you around Aegiswood, and see if we can find the danger my visions are warning about.” She smiled, though her eyes still looked troubled.

With a last jingle of bangles, Ash left them there, disappearing towards a staircase that led up towards the Jardinian Gate.

A hundred more yards brought them to their lodgings for the night: The Verdant Repose. The three-storey building was set back in the street, with steeply-sloping eaves that drooped towards a neatly-trimmed front garden. Lux imagined it would all be rather cultivated for Caela’s taste, but that seemed to be the prevailing style in Aegiswood.

Above the lintel, the tavern’s name was carved in flowery font, surrounded with clusters of berries. Lux tried to peer through one of the frost-caked windows, but the view through the diamond panes was refracted into abstract forms. Dark shapes shifted over the glow of candlelight, coinciding with the clacking of pewter mugs. He took hold of the brass knocker, cold seeping through his glove, and rapped twice.

The thick door creaked open, revealing a cozy foyer. A hearth sent shadows flickering across uneven flagstones and up the sturdy wooden beams. The shapes on the other side of the window turned out to be a few heavily-dressed patrons, finally able to loosen their many layers to let in the fire’s warmth. They broke off their relaxed murmuring only briefly to glance at the new arrivals.

Lux looked down. Peering up from somewhere near his waist was an elderly man, whose diminutive stature was exacerbated by his stoop. His cheeks might’ve been naturally ruddy, or else glowing from an evening drink. When he smiled up at them, his eyes nearly disappeared amidst all the crinkles of his face.

“Evening, good sir. No need to knock – come in out of the cold.”

The party needed no further encouragement. Flurries of snow chased them into the cozy sanctuary of the tavern.

—

With the loss of Kazzik’s treasure stash, Lux had been worried their remaining San Arian currency would be of less use than a paper skillet. He’d been pleased to discover that their host, who introduced himself as Haspi, was keen to exchange practically any shape of coin for bed and board.

“Money’s as good as the people who give it, that’s what I say,” Haspi chortled. His accent was different to that of Ashtoreth and the gatehouse guards, so Lux supposed he, too, had once been a new arrival to Aegiswood.

“Plenty of travellers in Lecorce with all sorts in their pockets.,” Haspi continued, “So it’s not unusual for me to trade in San Arian Ventis. Why, I usually get a chestful every half-year or so, housing the merchant caravans from the other side of the Range.”

At the mention of the ill-fated city – and the equally misbegotten Steelbeard caravan – Lux was keen to change the subject. Fortunately, Haspi provided them with a substantial topic of discussion.

“This is where you’ll be staying – my little project.”

He led them out of the main room, through another heavy door. Lux trembled involuntarily as he was blasted with a rush of warm, wet air.

It was a pocket-sized paradise. Surrounded by a ring of bunk-rooms was an open-air courtyard, filled to bursting with blooming plants. There were ferns like the dark-green ruffs of a lady’s dress, and waxy heart-shaped leaves speckled with droplets of water. All the foliage clustered around the twisted trunk of a small tree, whose flexible branches swayed gently as they were buffeted by the humid air.

“Ah!” Freija squeaked, eyes shimmering. Valerios breathed in deeply, blowing out through his moustache. Lux put his hands on his hips, feeling his skin regain its warmth.

“A tree, on a tree,” he marvelled. “That’s wild.”

“Not wild at all, good sir,” Haspi said warmly. “I’ve been cultivating these for nigh on forty years. Takes a careful balance of light, water and whatnot to keep it all looking jolly.”

The leaves played a gentle percussion, a susurration against their ears.

Caela, who had been smiling blissfully, cocked her ear, as if listening out for something and not finding it. “There’s no insects?” she asked.

Haspi nodded. “Not up here. Nothing for them to eat outside this courtyard. So, I make do.”

He pointed up. Lux saw a few flakes of snow had begun to fall out of the dark sky. As soon as they touched a point above the courtyard, however, they melted away.

“Bought that charm from the College – cost as much as the rest of the tavern, but it’s more than paid for itself. The Verdant Repose wouldn’t be very verdant without the right climate, after all, and people do love the plants.”

Unable to avoid the sales pitch, Haspi continued in a confidential tone:

“They say the Repose is as nice as any tavern in The Cambium. People ask me: Haspi, why don’t you move the Repose in there? But I like the views out here, and the stories from the visitors.”

Extracting themselves from inter-tavern politics, the party were shown their rooms. They were scarcely big enough for a bed, a bag and a tired human, but to Lux it could’ve been a palace. Three of the rooms ran along the side of the courtyard nearest the trunk, while three had views out across the landscape.

“I want the view!” Freija was quick to cry.

“Me too,” Kazzik said.

Lux leapt at the chance to be further away from the vertiginous drop, and Johannes was ready to doze off either way. There was some back-and-forth between Valerios and Caela as they both tried to offer the other one the room with the view, only ending when Valerios ordered Caela to accept his generosity.

It was the end of the last day in a month-long journey, and their bodies knew what they were owed. Each member of the Relevant Party began to make bedtime preparations.

All but one.

While Lux was washing the road dust from his face, there was a knock on the door of his room. Kazzik stood there, still clad in his travelling clothes.

“What is it?” Lux grinned. “Need an extra pillow?”

Kazzik laughed politely. “Ha. Not quite.” He took another step closer, leaning on the doorframe. “I just wanted to remind you about our jobs.”

“I got it,” Lux said. “Disable the amulet, and track it to its final destination.”

Kazzik shook his head, looking serious. It was like they were back in Mulmais, watching out for hellhounds.

“There’s a second job,” he said in a low voice. “Mirazh’s agent in Aegiswood has stopped responding to her. We need to find out what’s happened to them and take care of the situation.”

Lux was taken aback. “Her agent in Aegiswood? She already had someone here?”

“And they’ve gone dark,” Kazzik repeated. “Don’t worry about it for now. Focus on the team task.” He stepped back, giving Lux a last smile. “But be ready, because your first real job will be happening soon.”

30. Shady Backroom Deals >>