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Athanor
40: The Undercity: Trade

40: The Undercity: Trade

Si glyph [https://i.imgur.com/mHhTdaF.png]

Under the grey sky of a dreary Athanor winter afternoon, Lamp Street was quiet. A gaggle of dirty children sang a nonsense rhyme as they splashed between puddles. The doors of the Chained Serpent were shut, the bouncers absent. Doubtless their business didn’t start until well after dark.

Andra wasn’t lurking in the alleyway.

‘She sleeps in the day,’ Sam said.

‘Where?’ Simon asked.

‘It’s hard to find. I’ll have to show you.’

Simon gave his son his usual hard stare, which as usual, had no effect. He wished he didn’t need to involve Sam in this; or better, that he didn’t need to involve Andra, but he had no choice. If anyone could find Jonas quickly, she could. ‘Lead on, then.’

From Lamp Street, Sam headed down one alley after another, each narrower and more filthy than the last. The rain had turned some streets to shallow streams of sewage. The rats were sleek, the dogs mangy, the stench indescribable. The few people about walked with downcast eyes and gave them a wide berth.

Sam stopped in a dingy corner marked by an unlit gas-lamp. ‘It’s up here, on the roof.’

‘What sort of person is this friend of yours?’ Vikki asked.

‘Unusual,’ Simon said. ‘How do we get up there?

Sam pointed to a drainpipe. ‘I’ll go if you like. I don’t think she’ll talk to you.’

‘You go first, I’ll follow. Vikki, you wait for us.’

‘I’d rather come with you than stay here on my own.’

‘Andra’s not…’ Simon said, ‘…used to meeting new people. Better stay here. You’ll be fine. If anyone comes, just scream.’

‘Oh, great. Now I’m reassured.’

Sam climbed the drainpipe, making it look easy. Simon followed more slowly, methodically testing each hand and foot-hold — he didn’t trust the ancient-looking iron, surely held together only by rust, old paint, and inertia.

Yards above him, Sam clambered onto the roof, reached the ridge, and disappeared from view. Simon cursed under his breath and sped up. Pain gripped his bad leg. He hauled himself onto the roof. The tiles slipped under his weight as he climbed.

When he reached the ridge, he paused to get his breath back. Intersecting roofs stretched into the distance like the hills and valleys of an undiscovered country high above the city streets. Tall stone chimneys stood sentinel, each distinct: one twisted, one pillared, one carved with foliage, another with grotesque faces.

He couldn’t see Sam. ‘Sam, where are you? Andra?’

Sam appeared from a behind a neighbouring chimney and waved to him. ‘Over here.’

Moss-covered tiles snapped and slid under Simon’s feet as he descended the other side of the roof. He reached the valley on his backside, with a hole torn in his trousers. He picked himself up and joined Sam.

The roofs of different houses, joined together by years of unplanned building, formed a sheltered bay with a large chimney at one side. At its base, in a pile of scrap paper and rags, Andra sat cross-legged.

The rubbish was her bed, Simon realised, though nest was perhaps a better word. On a ledge beside her lay shiny bits and pieces: gold and silver coins, cheap jewellery, scraps of tin and foil.

The proud hunter of the ice had been reduced to a magpie, a scavenger attracted to glitter.

‘Cosy,’ Simon said.

Andra said nothing, her tattooed face impassive.

Simon swallowed. ‘I need your help. Someone is missing and we need to find him. He hasn’t been seen since last night. He was wounded. Do you think you could track him?’

Andra half-shrugged, a lift of one shoulder expressive of really not being sufficiently interested to have an opinion. She unsheathed her long knife, and began sharpening it with a whetstone.

Sam rolled his eyes. ‘I told you she wouldn’t talk to you.’

Simon gestured for him to be quiet. ‘Andra, I know I let you down before. I’m sorry. If you help us with this, I swear I’ll get you into the Chained Serpent.’

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Andra stopped sharpening her knife. ‘You lie.’

‘No,’ Simon said firmly. ‘This is true. I can help you and I will. I swear on my life, if you help us find this man—’

‘No.’ A flat refusal.

‘No?’

‘First the Chained Serpent,’ Andra said. ‘Then, I find your man. If I can. This is the trade.’

‘We don’t have time,’ Simon said, but he knew it was useless to explain or argue. Andra knew what she wanted, and she didn’t trust him. Nor could he say he deserved her trust. After all, he had broken his promise to her before. ‘All right. We have a deal.’

They descended the drainpipe into the alleyway. Andra and Vikki eyed each other like wary cats.

‘Vikki,’ Simon said. ‘This is Andra, the friend I told you about. She says she’ll try to find Jonas, but I have to help her with something first. I’m not sure how long this will take. You’d better go back home. We’ll meet you at Danta’s workshop.’

Vikki glanced between him and Andra. ‘Please be quick.’

‘Do you mind taking Sam with you and making sure he gets home?’

Sam grimaced. ‘I want to go with you and Andra.’

‘I know,’ Simon said. ‘But this once you’re going to do as I say.’

Vikki offered Sam her arm. ‘Come on, Sam. You can be my escort and protect me from muggers, right?’

Sam frowned. ‘Are you likely to be mugged?’

‘Absolutely, if we hang round here much longer.’

Sam grinned and took her arm.

Watching them go, Simon took a breath. He hadn’t expected to get rid of Sam so easily — obviously Vikki’s charm was more effective than fatherly sternness.

He and Andra walked back to the Chained Serpent. The doors were still shut, and no one was about. Simon assumed the doors would be locked or barred from the inside. Besides, breaking in the front way would be asking for trouble. There had to be another entrance.

‘How get in?’ Andra asked.

‘Underground,’ Simon said. ‘Come on.’

They walked down Lamp Street until Simon spotted an entrance to the undercity. He went in. The smell hit him immediately; he covered his nose with his hand as he started down the steps.

‘I do not like this place,’ Andra said.

Simon couldn’t disagree. The stench of human waste, clinging to the stone and channeled up the stairs from below, was almost overpowering, and would only get worse as they descended. Rainwater overflowing from the gutter outside puddled in the dished steps, along with rubbish and filth.

Glancing back at her, he realised her unease might be more fundamental. He’d known Athanor’s underside since childhood and spent half his life in a mine. Andra might never have been underground before, unless they had caves up in the far north. She was more at home in wide open spaces. She might even be afraid — an odd thought, that Andra might be scared of anything.

He continued down to the residential corridors. As he’d feared, the smell was worse there. He covered his nose with his cloak, not that it helped much. Grimacing, Andra copied him.

The people who lived in the slums above ground were poor. Those who lived down here, below the slums, were even more desperate. Any worse off, they’d be dead. Some might be dead already, Simon thought, as he picked his way between the blanket-shrouded bodies lining the passage.

Chalk and paint covered the walls. A crude painting of a snake overlaid an unreadable tangle of gang signs and obscene pictures.

Simon walked briskly and avoided making eye-contact with the passers-by, who for the most part wanted equally little to do with them. Andra stayed close and said nothing. When he came to another stairway, he descended to the next level, and the next, always choosing tunnels that led in the direction of the Chained Serpent.

There were fewer people on the lower levels, and therefore less filth. He reached a junction and stopped to review his mental map. Neither tunnel went in the direction he wanted.

Andra waited, standing hunched and pale, as miserable as he’d ever seen her.

‘Don’t worry. We aren’t lost,’ Simon said. ‘Let’s try this way.’

He picked the passage to the left. A hundred yards farther on, it turned in the right direction for the Chained Serpent. Even better, the floor showed signs of fresh dirt — bits of straw and dung. All the gas-lamps were lit, and unlike on the higher levels, none of the mantles were broken or missing.

There was no rubbish and little graffiti. No sign anyone slept down here, yet someone obviously used this passage and maintained the lights.

Andra crouched to touch and sniff the dirt. Simon walked on.

From ahead came the sound of loud male voices echoing off the stone, accompanied by the tread of heavy boots. The passage curved gently, offering no hiding places. Simon started back toward the main tunnel they’d come from, and beckoned Andra to come with him. Thankfully she wasn’t the sort to ask questions.

A side tunnel appeared. He ducked inside, followed by Andra. It was unlit. They retreated into the darkness and pressed themselves against the wall.

The voices grew louder. ‘Ha. He squealed, though, din’t he?’

Two men appeared, briefly framed in the mouth of the tunnel. Red-and-green snake tattoos coiled round the muscular arms of the nearest man. A gun hung from his belt.

‘Be fair,’ the second said. ‘You got your guts hanging round your knees, you’d squeal too.’

‘Screamed like a kid. Serve him right, the bleeder.’

Simon sweated against the warm stone, holding his breath until they passed and their laughter receded into the distance.

‘Those men were coming from the Chained Serpent,’ he said. ‘This is your way in.’

Andra stalked to the mouth of the tunnel and peered out. ‘Show me.’

Simon stepped in front of her, blocking her path. ‘No. That wasn’t our agreement. If you go in there looking for your sister, you might never come out. You have to help us now. You can come back here after.’

Andra still gazed down the passage. ‘How, come back? I do not know the way.’

Simon clenched his fists. He’d already wasted too much time. By now, Jonas could have sold the codex. He could already be on a ship to the Empire. And his trail was doubtless getting more muddled and faint by the moment — Andra might not be able to follow him at all. ‘I’ll bring you here again. We’ll come right back, I swear. Please. I’ve done what I said I’d do.’

Andra didn’t move. Simon’s heart thumped. It had been a mistake to bring her this far; she would charge in to find her sister, probably get herself killed, and all hope of finding Jonas would be lost.

‘We had a deal,’ he said.

‘A deal.’ She faced him, her gaze cold and distant. ‘I will come. But if you lie, I will kill you.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I know.’