Running toward the open gate, the shrieking cries of the damned piercing through our hands and into our ears. Getting to the other side and stopping to catch our breaths, but continuing to keep our hands where they are. The graveyard gate closing with a clang that sent vibrations up our spines, and then all becoming still. Vesper's fur still standing on end, but slowly going down. Walking past all the lesser undead and heading in the direction of the large mausoleum.
“How bad is it that the gate is only the second most annoying yelling we've dealt with all day?” Riley giving me an obnoxious smirk.
“Those tormented souls are more pleasant to deal with, by far,” says Wolfe.
“I'm sor-”
“Mac,” says Magpie, “you don't need to apologize, again. In her defense, if we never went over there I never would've ran into Sly, and as far as I'm concerned that makes up for a lot. And she got the worst of everything, so, karma.”
All of them nodding at that.
“Hey Kate,” says Riley, “when you got to her, how bad was it? It looked like it went all the way through.”
“It basically did, completely destroyed a lung. That should've been that, but she was too stubborn to go down.”
“Stubborn is not exactly the word I'd use to describe her.”
A slight delay, and then all of them nodding at that, as well. Vesper putting his nose to my hand to show some moral support. Smoothing down some of his still agitated fur.
“I was most worried when the wolf ran in,” says Magpie. “He's that guy's pet so I thought he was going to maul you, but he's been stuck to you like glue since we left.” Tentatively reaching out her hand and Vesper permitting a pat.
“He's probably having the roughest day of anyone.”
“Evie,” says Magpie, “what was that thing you did?”
“Its great, right? I got it last cycle. It's sort of a milestone, and let's people know I'm kind of a big deal. I'll show you again when we're done here, if you want.”
A group of Wyrmsblood coming down the path from the mausoleum heading toward us, three men and one woman. They seem familiar. Us waving at them, them waving at us, but then their group stopping strategically in front of us to block the way.
“Hi, Evie, good morning,” says one of the men, a sunburst on a field of blue next to his House symbol.
“Abraham,” says Riley. “Morning. Nice to see you.”
“Evie, I want you to know you're always welcome here. But.”
The hanging conjunction making for an awkward pause.
“But?”
“But we got orders, and your friend there,” indicating me, “isn't welcome here anymore.”
“Just her?”
“Just her.”
“Hey, Lucy,” Riley shaking her head and then turning to me, “what'd you do to these guys?”
“Nothing. But if they don't want me here right now I can always stop by their House later, and see if I can clear up any misunderstandings.”
“Nothing.” Riley frowns in thought. Turning back to the guy. “She says she didn't do anything. Why are you doing this?”
“They didn't say why, but orders are orders.”
“Why don't you go fuck yourself?” Wolfe letting loose an angry outburst.
“Kate, relax,” says one of the other men.
“No, fuck you. It's not even eleven and I've already exceeded my bullshit threshold. You're not the fucking boss of this place.”
“Kate,” putting my hand on her shoulder, “you are in rare form today. Thank you, again. I appreciate your concern, but don't worry about it.”
“No, I'm not going to-”
“Kate,” Magpie putting her hand on the other shoulder, “hold up a second. Evie, now's a great time for it. Do your thing.”
Riley glancing at Magpie and then turning back to the Wrymsblood group. “I need to confer with them for a moment.” Riley starting to speak the words to her spell, gesturing with her hand, and then kneeling down to touch her hand to the ground. A great translucent dome springing into being, tinged with frost and spreading out a few paces across, separating us from the outside and forcing the other group to back up some. The outside sound and smell of the graveyard vanishing as if they'd never been and the barrier turning clear. Vesper sitting down and sniffing the air.
“This is so cool.” Magpie looks around before turning her attention to me. “What's going on, Mac?”
“This is probably because my deal with Sam is done.”
“You said you had a bad meeting with Lane,” says Riley, “but he didn't seem all that upset with you once we got you back on your feet. He was actually very nice to me and apologized about what happened. Very curious about your chain, too. He wanted to know how we used it to fight those big guys.”
“Yeah, I know. His, I guess, wife, probably, is a member of my book club. She may have put in a good word on my behalf.”
“You're in a book club?” says Magpie.
“No, well, yes.” The three of them glancing at each other. “It's a Runemage thing. We meet on day two in the morning, breakfast and coffee, talk about whatever book we're all reading, and spend maybe ten minutes talking shop. I've been in it for a couple cycles because my master wants me to go.”
“In that case,” Magpie still visibly trying to wrap her head around it, “you should be fine.”
“Hopefully, yeah, but something you all need to be aware of, Sam put together dossiers on each of you.” Holding up my hands at their looks of alarm. “Hold on, it's not necessarily as bad as it sounds, except Evie, they probably have your whole life story.”
“My life's an open book,” she says. “Is that why you were acting so crazy earlier?”
“Mostly. Them doing that crossed a line. I got real heated with Lane about it.”
“That's why you shouldn't have worked with Sam,” Magpie says. “Guy's a snake.”
“He was the best option, at the time. He was also very apologetic when he told me.”
“That's because he was trying to slither away.”
“Lucy,” says Wolfe, “about that thing we talked about, I'm going to need your explanation real soon.”
All of them looking at me now. Opening my mouth to find a plausible rebuttal, to come up with some new reason to delay or some kind of distraction, but then coming to a decision.
“It's way past time and I owe it to you. Lunch is on me. We'll go somewhere nice and I'll tell you everything. You each know some, probably suspect a great deal more, but there's so much I need to tell you. It's a long story. Unbelievable, really, and some of it's awful. If you hate me afterward, if you never want to see me again, I'll understand.” Hit by a surge of emotion, and tears starting to pour uncontrollably down my face. “I'm just glad I was able to meet you when I did. You each helped keep me sane at some of my absolute lowest points and I can never repay that. I'm so very sorry.”
Getting hugs as the tears just kept flowing, completely crying myself out.
“So, for right now,” Riley wiping some tears from her own face and giving me a smile, “what happened with these people?” Indicating the Wyrmsblood group behind me, still peering in, trying to figure out what we're about.
“Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. The only person I even know in Wrymsblood is this girl Charity and I spoke to her a couple months ago. More.”
Riley nodding and then pulling out her holy symbol. Staring at it. Twenty seconds later putting it back.
“I'm with you, Kate. I'm not putting up with this. Magpie?”
“Fuck 'em.”
“You're all sure about this?”
“Yes.” Wolfe nodding and Magpie resting her hand on the hilt of her sword. The sanctuary abruptly disappearing and the sound and smell from the graveyard pouring back in. Putting my hand in my cloak on the hilt of my knife. Walking up to them and taking our positions, Magpie and me in the front, Vesper between, and Riley and Wolfe slightly behind.
“Evie,” says the guy, “before escorting your friend out I do want to say, congratulations on your accomplishment.” He doesn't sound very congratulatory. Sounds more like jealousy at being eclipsed by his junior.
“Thank you, Abraham, but could you please let her stay for today? She'll go to Wrymsblood later on and sort it out. That compromise should work for everyone. Do me this favor, I kind of need her here to help me.”
“Evie,” Abraham bringing his hand up to scratch an itch on his neck, “I don't know what to tell you, but I can't do that.”
“You're not going to meet us halfway?”
“No.” The man shrugging. “But, if you'd like, you could leave as well.”
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Using my ungloved hand to start surreptitiously placing blots on each of their foreheads.
“You are asking me to leave?” Riley's voice dropping several degrees, her words slow and deliberate while watching my progress. “I want you to know, before anything happens,” giving her outfit a tap, on the outline of a golden key on black, “I sought her opinion on this, on this little powerplay you're trying to pull, and I want you to know that this came straight from her. Sometimes new growth requires mulch.”
Her uncompromising glare and emphasis placed on the last word getting their attention.
They'd originally come running an errand, one of minor import, as evinced by their earlier lack of concern. Now, challenged with Riley's declaration they discovered themselves faced with several hard facts. First, you can only push people so far before they decide to push back. Second, that nice emblem on your uniform isn't necessarily going to save you from that pushback. Third, that big red emblem that you figured was a shield may, in fact, be a big red bullseye. And fourth, making threats in melee range when you don't have a melee weapon against people who already have their hands on theirs reveals a certain lack of judgment.
“Evie, hold on,” the guy trying to stall while reconciling those facts, “I don't think-” My Rune Trap taking effect and freezing him in place. Magpie's sword at the throat of another and my knife in hand. The person who'd spoken to Wolfe earlier glancing at her way.
“Don't try to run. You're all marked. I'd rather avoid killing you.”
Their quick glance revealing the truth of my words, the Rune Traps drawn on their foreheads quite visible.
“Did he speak for all of you,” Riley says, “or can you cut us some slack? For today.”
Variations of you can be here coming from their lips. Not much choice.
“As for you,” bringing my knife up to his frozen face, “I'm not going to kill you. Instead we're going to bring you over that way a little bit and throw you in the Rotting Bog. Best case, you suffocate. Worst, something finds you and chews on you a bit. Unless you can give me a break. Move your eyes from left to right if you can find it in your heart.”
His eyes moving left to right.
“Good.” Sheathing my knife, and breaking some of the tension. It should be expiring soon, need to talk for a bit. “I will be by within a couple days to find out what I did to make this confrontation necessary. I'd much prefer that we get along, but I'm not going to put up with this if we don't. Let Luther know.”
Abraham taking a sudden inhalation of air as he found he could move again, and Magpie sheathing her sword when the rest of them didn't make any sudden moves. Nodding at them in farewell. Our group heading further in and theirs heading back toward the mausoleum. One of them reaching over to try and rub away one of the drawings. Not that easy.
“You know, I was thinking,” says Riley, “we always go to the same place in here. Let's go somewhere else a little more out of the way.”
***
“Another round.” Signaling to the waitress.
“Mac, we just got this first one,” says Magpie.
“I know, got the jitters.” Copy. Two pints. Chugging one down. “Kate you got your thing? How much have you even used that? It's rechargeable and you haven't asked me to charge it once.”
Sitting at a booth far in the corner. Far, far away from anyone else. Had thrown a fit when they tried to say no pets allowed, had nearly drawn my knife on the poor waitress. Fortunately they'd relented.
“I've used it, um, once or twice. But Lucy, relax, I already told you I'm not going to hate you.”
“You did, you did, and you probably won't. Evie, are you going to hate me?”
“I,” pausing, “am not sure.”
“Evie, you're a little too honest. I like that about you but, goddamn, that's harsh.”
The waitress coming back with another round.
“Mac,” says Magpie, “I'm sure they'll be fine.”
Taking a deep breath.
“Evie, Kate, don't be offended by this, I'll explain everything, but Magpie here knows about me, for reasons I will explain. But.” Holding up my hand. “But. Magpie, I'm going to be laying down some shit well beyond that. That you all need to know.”
“Mac,” says Magpie, “chill out. Let's eat lunch first.”
Listening to the three of them chat, a nervous wreck. My nerves finally beginning to stop spasming halfway through my second pint, about when they put the food in front of us. Digging in, not tasting anything, but shoveling it down. From their conversation the food sounds like it's good. It probably is because this place isn't cheap. Second pint down and feeling no pain. Holding off on starting my third. The waitress coming back to clear things up and ordering another pint. Giving back my untouched one, demanding a new, colder one, and the waitress giving me some lip. Flicking a gold coin at her, ordering her to get me the new pint and then to fuck off. Wolfe apologizing, and the three of them placing an order for dessert. The waitress coming back with a new pint and three desserts, a strawberry shortcake and two chocolate cakes with some kind of a berry sauce.
“Well, that was good,” Riley says. The other two murmuring their agreement. “Lucy, this story better be good after all that angst we just witnessed.”
“It is. Can you put up your sanctuary? Is it possible to make it not so huge?”
“I'm not sure,” she says. “I'll try.” Speaking the words, gesturing with her hand, touching the table, the dome appearing, and then fading to transparency. Smaller, but by no means small. Shouldn't be a concern, we're way in the corner.
“If you have questions while I'm speaking I'll try to answer them, but if I'm going to get to them later because there's some other stuff you need to know first, I'll let you know. So, first things first, my name is Macarthy. Whenever people find out my name's Macarthy there's always this kerfuffle because, for quite a number of years now, Macarthy has been building a legend here. A legend I am extremely proud of, by the way. It was built action by action and deed by deed.”
“You're his sister, right?” says Riley. Wolfe opening her mouth, maybe to voice a similar conclusion, but then closing it after a moment. Staring at me, trying to figure something out. Staring through me.
“No, I'm not. I'm the person who did all that. I'm Macarthy. That's me.”
Starting at the beginning. Before the beginning. Back when the guilds were abolished. Detailing the months spent underground slaughtering everything that moved, the months spent in a shitty dive bar drinking myself numb, the months spent seeking fleeting respite in the attached whorehouse. My resentment growing day by day which then led to the disastrous Haven job. Then the night of the tournament finals. My disguise, the meeting at Stormhawk, sneaking into the colosseum, and Shaker's interrogation. The link being severed, the language of my contract and the choice presented to me. The trap. Coming in that first night, coming in like this, more than half dead. The first days and meeting them.
“I'm going to be honest, when I first saw you two I figured you'd be completely useless.” Starting to cry my eyes out. “I'm so happy you proved me wrong, I've never been happier about anything. Maybe seeing you guys again after coming back in. I figured you'd never want to voluntarily deal with someone like me after you'd gotten to know me.” Finishing up crying and getting myself back together.
Telling them about the Council and my failure to do anything at the time. The paranoia of that fifth night when everything was in flux.
“You were awful that night,” says Riley. “I almost strangled you.”
“I would've deserved it.”
“At least now I know why. Hold on, I need to order another drink.”
Getting back in, the trip out with Ishtar and meeting Magpie. Getting back to town and then getting kicked out of Ishtar. Magpie eavesdropping at the door.
“Who knows about this?” says Riley.
“More people now than then. Shaker, a bunch of higher-ups at all the Houses, Sam, and it's been growing and growing. Lane threatened to, what'd he say, shine the light of day on me. That's what I'm most concerned about. Not for me, I can take care of me, it's you guys I'm worried about. I'm worried sick about it, to be honest. But you know what the one huge advantage I have is? The whole situation is pretty unbelievable. People hear about it, but they don't really believe.”
“I'll attest to that,” Magpie says. “Mac told me out in Tasnanca, granted we were drunk as hell at the time, and she painted her hand black. Afterwards she said all sorts of stuff that she never should've known and I still didn't even really believe it then. It's crazy.”
“Painted her hand black?” say Riley. “What does that mean?”
“Well, you know how my name is Magpie, right? I told you that story how I got it.”
“Yeah.”
“Mac's name is Black Hand.”
“Black Hand?” Wolfe's first words since the story began. “I imagine they call you that for reason I think they call you that.”
“Yes, indeed. In the Thieves Guild we earned our names, and I've earned that one many times over. Part of my legend, but none of my friends call me that, for obvious reasons. The name doesn't exist for their sake.”
Then the bombshell. The meeting with Shaker at his cottage, the identity of the girl and the fate of the Bonneville. Each of them sitting back trying to square that circle.
“So we're all fucked,” comes Magpie's not unpredictable response.
“That's a real negative way of looking at it and, honestly, I don't think you should think of it that way. Even if this is basically only a mining operation now, we'd all still be stuck out here, either way.”
“Those sons of fucking bitches.” Riley uttering the first true expletive she'd ever said in my presence. “Everything they told us at the Academy was a lie. Everything. All the feel good slogans, how we were the hope of the future, all that fucking smoke they blew up our asses, everything was a lie.”
“I mean, yeah, it's criminal what they're doing, but I'll echo what Shaker said to me. They're all the way back at home, and we're all the way out here in bumfuck nowhere. They don't give two fucks.”
Getting to the part of the story with the added wrinkle, the unknown threat on the horizon. The threat first mentioned by Koln, and now today further verified by Lane's patron.
“Mac, if something big is coming, this revolution we're in, what're we actually doing, what's the real goal?”
“Their goal is getting their stuff back. My goal is to destabilize things to the point where the Houses hold a vote of no confidence on Shaker and he becomes the fall guy. My contract may have protected me from having my access revoked, but this is what I ended up getting as a result. He needs to be removed from power so he can't lord access over people, and so he can't do to someone else what he did to me. But let me say this, once he's out of power I'm not done with him. I'm going to grind him into the dirt to make him pay for everything he's done. I swore an oath.” And he's not the only one on that list.
Each of them sitting back trying to process for a long moment. Wolfe's gaze remaining fixed on her untouched drink.
“But if war, or something, is on the horizon,” says Riley, “wouldn't the Director be one of the few people able to do something about it, given the power he has? Removing him may be a bad idea.”
“I don't know that his removal will affect anything.” Riley appearing skeptical. “The gut feeling I have from this whole ordeal is that he has significantly less power over what happens in here than I ever imagined. And, if war does come, why even choose a side? Let's sit it out, or at least play it by ear. Who cares if someone like Lane has volunteered us? Let him go off to fight, we never volunteered. Oh, one thing I forgot to mention, that human resources person I was telling you about, Hunter, a word of warning if you ever deal with her, or probably if you ever deal with anyone from human resources, she's not actually-”
“Hey, Mac,” Magpie interrupting, “hold up a second. I get everything you've been saying, but before we get lost in the weeds there's something you haven't covered, something more fundamental.”
“What's that?”
“Well, you're not a dyke, and you weren't a fag before, so what's the deal with that?”
“I've actually been thinking that same question,” says Riley.
“Yeah, I,” Wolfe briefly bringing her eyes up to meet mine before dropping them once again, “I've been wondering about that, too. Sorry.”
The two of them looking at me expectantly. Wolfe's attention back on her drink. Letting out a huge sigh.
“The first thing I noticed when I got in here? Left handed. Before all this, and every time I go back to work? Right handed. I don't know if it's split personality, or if I'm actually two different people sharing the same memories. I don't know what it is, exactly, but all I do know is, when I'm in here, I'm me, and when I'm out there, I'm also me.”
Looking down at the now familiar sight, my hand. Still small and feminine, but sporting more callouses than it originally had, months back. Making a fist, and then reopening it.
“I guess what I'm saying is, this is all that we are. If it changes, or if it gets changed, your perceptions, your wants and your needs, will change to match. Each and every time I come in here, or I go out there, that becomes more and more obvious to me. Let me tell you, after spending seven full years here my body on the outside isn't exactly as hale and hearty as it was when I first came in. None of us are. Bunch of grey pod people. You all know exactly what I'm talking about.”
Sharing an uncomfortable silence.
“You guys want another round?”
“Yes.” “Yup.” “Uh-huh.”