Abbee swept. She swept like a professional. It had been one of her main chores for her mother. Abbee had been too clumsy to work the needles, but she was great with a broom. Short strokes won the day. She didn’t tire herself out with long strokes. Let the wind do the work. Abbee explored the bullpen and the adjacent locker room under the stairs. Beyond the locker room was a wide-open room with training dummies.
She explored a short hallway next to the locker room and found a couple of offices and several small rooms. Each small room had a table and chairs in it. No cabinets or writing materials or anything. Nobody was in there either, to explain what they were for. Abbee worked her way around the edge of the bullpen, to the stewpot, where she spotted a stack of bread behind the pot. The bread hadn’t been there the first time, and Abbee filched a piece when nobody was looking. She crammed it into her mouth in one go. The bread didn’t have a sign on it that said no little girls, but Abbee wasn’t taking chances. The chickens hadn’t had a sign like that, and taking them had had consequences. She looked around the bustling precinct and down at her own new clothes. Things hadn’t turned out so bad after all. She found pockets in her trousers and grabbed two more pieces of bread.
Abbee moved on from the stewpot, hooked around a corner, and found a very curious room. It was small. She figured she could hold the broom horizontal and touch the walls with either end. An empty stool on wheels sat in the middle. The far wall held a giant sheet of paper with lines and squares on it. A big squiggly line cut through the middle, with a wide curving arc near the top, and a big empty space in the middle left, near the top. Abbee felt her jaw drop open. This was a map of Akken. It said so in tiny lettering across the top. Abbee couldn’t read, but she’d seen the city’s name often enough to recognize the chunky symbols.
Abbee hadn’t known that Akken looked like this. It was like looking at the city the way a bird might see it. Streets crisscrossed all over it with no discernible pattern. There were parts she’d never visited before. Overlook was smaller than she’d imagined, for one thing. Just a thin strip along the escarpment, compared to the bigger city below. The North Bend took up a lot of space on the other side of the Tower plateau. The streets there looked like the random collection of yarn Abbee’s mother had once crammed into the bottom drawer of her sewing cabinet.
A collection of different shapes near the bottom marked the Geometric Gardens. Abbee leaned forward into the room to see them. It looked like the map had an exact view of the Circle Maze on it. She didn’t have great memories of the maze. She’d been there once and had gotten lost among the tall hedges within minutes. Her father had been furious.
Abbee examined the Tower plateau. She’d seen the spires from different angles, but it had never occurred to her that there were eight of them and they formed a perfect circle. The plateau was bigger than she’d pictured it, and the Tower sat on the southern end. It seemed like there was a lot of space up there. A lot of houses could fit on the plateau, but it was just the Tower by itself.
The map had dozens of colored pins on it. Blue, green, red, and orange. The pins moved by themselves. Abbee had no idea how that worked. She peered at the map. It seemed like paper, and the pins were metal, but they made no cuts as they moved.
Footsteps behind her. “Hey, who’re you?” a man asked.
Abbee whirled around, clutching her broom. A constable stood at the edge of the room with bread in one hand and a bowl of stew in the other. The entrance was small, and he took up all of it. Abbee was trapped.
The man arched a brow at her. “Oh, you’re the new gofer. Perfect. Call me Vit. Everybody else does.”
“Vit?”
“That’s right. I have a first name but only special people get to use it. You’re not special. Let me know if you find anything bigger than dust on the floor in here.”
“What?”
Vit gestured at the wall to Abbee’s right. She looked at it and saw it was full of tiny shelves. Abbee’s mother had had a bunch of cubbies like this for buttons and other bits and bobs. The shelves here had little tabs, with a name and number on each. Sitting on each shelf was a roundish gray rock. All the rocks looked similar. Abbee had no idea what they were or what they were for.
“Let me know if you find a chip on the floor,” Vit said. “Sometimes they get bumped and fall out.”
Chip. The word echoed in Abbee’s head. “These … these are artifact chips?”
“Yeah,” Vit said. “What, you’ve never seen a chip before?”
“Not this close.” Abbee was too poor to own one, and nobody she had ever met in her twelve years had been rich enough to have one. They looked like rocks. Every little rock on the wall was an artifact chip. They looked worthless, but Abbee knew she was standing next to more money than she’d ever imagined. She doubted she could steal one without Vit noticing.
“Dispatch request,” a voice behind Abbee said.
She jumped and scuttled out of the room. Her broom banged into her knees on the way out, and she tripped and fell.
The voice kept talking. Sounded familiar. “Constable Trippers requesting a sniffer in Sweeney’s Rhombus. Possible kidnapping of a mover.”
Trippers. The Big Shield. The one who’d arrested her. Abbee got to her feet and looked around. She saw only Vit. She had no idea where Trippers was.
Vit snorted. “You’ve never seen a talkie tab either? What, you live under a bridge or something?” He shook his head at her and stepped into the room. Sat down on the stool, balanced his bowl on his lap, and touched one of the artifact chips on the small shelves. “Sniffer request received,” Vit said. “All available sniffers are out on calls. As soon as one becomes available, they’ll be dispatched to Sweeney’s Rhombus. Dispatch out.”
Trippers’s voice issued out of the same chip. “Constable Trippers requesting an estimated time to availability on the requested sniffer.”
There were talents Abbee wished for, and there were talents she hoped she didn’t get. The sniffer talent was one of the latter. Abbee had smelled a lot of bad smells, and she didn’t like the idea of turning into a bloodhound that couldn’t get away from all horrible odors. Most of the jobs for sniffers involved finding things, and all the people Abbee knew who stole things lived in smelly places.
“Availability request regarding your sniffer request received,” Vit responded. “One cannot see into the future. Otherwise, one would have chosen a different straw. They’ll arrive when they arrive. Dispatch out.” He smirked at Abbee. “He’s going to ask again, you watch. Anybody else would move on, but Parn Trippers is like a dog with a bone. Can’t let it go.” Abbee giggled. Vit frowned at her. “What?”
“Did you just say ‘barn’?” Abbee asked.
“Parn,” Vit corrected her. “With a ‘p’. And don’t be smart. I’m on the tabs all day, I enunciate my words. You heard the right sound the first time.”
Abbee didn’t know what “enunciate” meant. She still heard “barn” the first time, but she kept that to herself. Vit seemed touchy. Abbee was happy she knew Parn’s name now, because “Trippers” was a mouthful and sounded like a nickname he got for being clumsy.
Parn’s voice came through the chip again with a tinge of exasperation. “Constable Trippers requesting that any sniffer not on a priority call be rerouted to the Geometric Gardens. Repeat, possible mover-involved kidnapping.”
“Request received,” Vit replied. “No sniffers are currently available. Unknown availability at this time. Dispatch out.” Vit huffed. He stood up, almost lost his bowl of stew, and caught it at the last minute. His hunk of bread hit the floor. Vit grabbed it and peered up and down the hallway outside the room. He pointed with his chin at Abbee. “Beat it.”
“What?”
“Go sweep somewhere else,” Vit said. “Bugger off, or I’ll tell the captain you’re—”
“Okay, okay,” Abbee said. “I’m going.”
She walked toward the bullpen. When she got to the edge of the hallway, she looked over her shoulder, and Vit had disappeared into his room. She heard whispering. Abbee couldn’t make out the words. Curious, she edged closer, pretending to sweep with her broom but not letting it touch the floor.
“… every one of them?” It was Parn. He and Vit were still speaking through the talkie tabs. Parn’s voice sounded quieter. Muffled. “Even the off-duty ones?”
Vit said something Abbee couldn’t hear. She got closer.
“You’re not serious,” Parn said. A pause. “Why did the wizards want them all?”
Vit’s voice was too muffled for Abbee to make out his reply.
“Where did they report to?” Parn asked. “The Tower?”
Abbee got to the corner. “… had to show … High Falls.” Vit’s voice sounded garbled, but Abbee didn’t dare get any closer.
“The High Falls?” Parn asked. “I was just there. There’s nobody. When was this?”
“… half an hour … Tower Bridge collapsed …”
“Well, that’s damn strange,” Parn said. “What the hell is going on, Vit?”
Vit said something Abbee didn’t make out. Then, “… body parts at the Falls.” More garbled words.
“No,” Parn said. “The White Ring showed up and took everything before I got there.”
Abbee started. Her broom tapped the wall above her head. She backtracked away from the room. Vit didn’t lean out. Abbee scooted around the corner and pressed her back to the wall. She couldn’t hear anything else from Parn and Vit’s conversation, but she was okay with missing the rest of it. She was happy she’d lost her chickens. Happy she hadn’t been anywhere near the High Falls, trying to catch a stupid river monster. Lots of folks died badly when the White Ring was around. Commoners like Abbee, turned inside out or blown to bits. She was afraid of a lot, but none of that held a candle to how scared she was of the Ringers.
Abbee went back to sweeping. She swept around the edge of the bullpen and got to the top of the stairs heading down. She swept the first step and considered going down to the first landing. What exactly was the limit of “downstairs”? Would she get in trouble for the first landing? Or was it down downstairs? Abbee didn’t know. She decided it wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t go back to the bridge pier empty-handed, and she’d achieved a significant step up here. A pot of warm food sat nearby. Abbee hoped she’d get to sleep indoors tonight. It had been weeks since she’d had a bed without creepy boys in it.
Abbee heard footfalls on the steps below her. Coming up. She swept the top step again. A woman in a constable’s uniform appeared around the corner. She had a round face and a ponytail. Her jacket was unbuttoned, but her artifact chip harness kept it from flopping open. She spotted Abbee and missed a step. The woman stumbled and went down with a yelp. She pushed off with her hands and vaulted up right next to Abbee.
“You didn’t see that,” she said.
“What do I get if I didn’t?” Abbee asked.
“You get healing if you get hurt,” the woman said, “which might come sooner rather than later if you’ve got a big mouth. Who’re you? The new gofer?”
“I’m Abbee. Are you Whimsy?”
The woman brightened. “How did you know?” Her brows lowered. “Wait, who—”
“Randall said you ran the infirmary. You’re a healer?”
“That’s right.” Whimsy winced. She bent over and rubbed her shin. “That smarts.”
Abbee frowned. “Can’t you take care of it?”
“That’s not how it works,” Whimsy said, straightening. “Healers heal others. We can’t heal ourselves.”
“Really?” Abbee asked. “That’s … that’s—”
“Bloody inconvenient,” Whimsy finished. “I think wizards can do themselves, but we talented get the short end of the stick.” She peered at Abbee. “Where’d he find you?”
“Who, Randall? I … uh, we met—”
“Right. You just met him, all normal like. What’re you in for?”
“Chickens,” Abbee said. She hefted her broom. “But I don’t need them anymore.”
“Seems like you’re hedging your bets with that bread in your pocket, yeah?”
“It’s good bread.”
Whimsy sniffed. “It’s bearable. Bups is on vacation. Otherwise, we’d be getting it from Lea’s. Bups lives upstairs from the bakery and gets free loaves.”
There wasn’t anything free in Akken. “Are they really free?”
“Well, no, not really, but nobody’s getting hurt with a little bread on the side—” Whimsy stopped. “You’re new. You don’t need to know about that. Keep sweeping.”
***
A while later, Abbee leaned on her broomstick near the bin under the stairs. She closed her eyes. Just for a moment. Her hands slipped down the handle, and she tipped forward and caught herself before she fell over. She looked around. Nobody seemed to have seen her.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Behind her, Captain Barnes said, “I hear you have a mover down in the cells.”
“Yes, sir.” A man’s voice. Parn Trippers.
Abbee peeked around the stairs and caught a glimpse of him standing by the captain’s pedestal. She jerked back out of sight.
“Why not in the pit?” Captain Barnes asked.
“This one’s not a flight risk,” Parn said. “She seemed actually pleased with the idea of spending the night in a cell.” Parn paused. “What’s the deal with the sniffers, sir? I asked for one in the Gardens but couldn’t get one.”
“Wizards called them up,” Captain Barnes said. “Needed them to track a suspect from the Falls.”
“I was down at the Falls after hearing a report of body parts,” Parn said. “Nothing to see when I got there. Wizards had cleaned it all up. Is this suspect they’re looking for responsible for that?”
Abbee leaned closer. So Sammy hadn’t been lying about the bodies after all.
“I don’t know,” Captain Barnes said, exasperated. “They’re being tight-lipped about this one. More than usual. The White Ring has been taking over murder crime scenes all over the River District. Two in ours.”
“Old Man Hudson,” Parn said. “I heard about the scene, that it was bad. Who was the other?”
“A tailor on Fairway Street.”
“That’s two streets over from Hudson and Sons. Who was it?”
“Some up-and-comer,” Captain Barnes said. “I can’t remember the name, but Vit said the district lost a good one.”
“Constable Vit does have fine taste, sir,” Parn said. “It’s a shame about Old Man Hudson, sir. He made a fine boot.”
“Well, hopefully, his sons are as good as him. I’ve a pair I’m about to replace.”
“That’s not very compassionate toward the victim, sir.”
“Do I look like a compassionate person, Constable Trippers?” Captain Barnes asked.
“No, sir. You look like a hard-ass who’s lookin’ to lay the law down hard across the backsides of miscreants.”
“That’s right,” Captain Barnes said. “Don’t you forget it.”
Abbee stifled a giggle. She liked Captain Barnes. Parn and the captain chattered on about constable things. Abbee was about to move away from the pedestal and out of sight when a loud bell went off somewhere. Activity in the bullpen ceased. Abbee jumped at a muffled boom upstairs. She almost dropped her broom. Captain Barnes snapped her fingers. Abbee jumped again. She thought she was in trouble, but the captain wasn’t looking at her.
A woman swept down the stairs and walked right up to the captain’s pedestal. She wore black robes, and her black hair was tied back from her head in a tight bun. She had a crooked nose. The woman took in the entire precinct with a single glance. She didn’t look at Abbee, but Abbee wanted to turn invisible all the same.
The woman marched right up to the captain. “I’m looking for Constable Trippers, the one they call the Big Shield.”
Abbee was confused. Parn was standing right there. Oh. The woman in black had no idea who Parn really was.
“What for?” Captain Barnes asked.
“White Ring business.”
Abbee froze extra hard. This woman was a wizard. Not just a wizard but a member of the White Ring. Abbee didn’t want any Ringer knowing she existed. They killed people.
“Is this the same White Ring business that vacuumed up all of my sniffers?”
“I can’t say.”
“How about the White Ring business that involves two murders in my district, a district that has gone without a murder in six months?”
“I can’t say about that either.”
“Can’t?” Captain Barnes asked. “Or won’t?”
“You decide which it is,” the wizard said. “Look, where is he? This is important.”
“If I give you Constable Trippers, can I have my sniffers back?”
“Captain, kindly produce Constable Trippers, or I’ll take all of your constables with me to go find him.”
The two women glared at each other. “Constable Trippers,” Barnes barked.
“Yes, sir?” Parn asked.
The wizard looked annoyed. “Constable Trippers, your presence is requested by the White Ring.”
She held out her hand. The constable took it, and the two of them vanished with an ear-shattering crack.
Abbee dropped her broom. She’d never seen anyone warp before. Heard it, plenty of times, but never from a few paces away. She rubbed her ears with her fingers. It was a lot louder than she’d imagined.
When Abbee straightened with her broom, Captain Barnes was watching her. The woman pinned Abbee with an arched brow. “I think that spot is clean enough, Danner.” Abbee frowned at the surname. Captain Barnes saw it. “What?”
“Can you, um, call you me Abbee?”
“Isn’t your last name Danner?”
“Yeah,” Abbee said. She shifted and looked at the floor. “But … I don’t like it.”
“Eyes up,” Captain Barnes said.
Abbee looked up at the woman. Captain Barnes’s expression was stern. “Face the world with your eyes up.” Her eyes softened and she gave an almost imperceptible nod. “Abbee.”
***
Randall returned about ten minutes later. Abbee was fighting with some persistent dust near the front door. The door opened, sucked out the dust pile she’d been building, and blew it back all over the floor when Randall closed the door behind him. It was the fifth time that had happened.
Abbee stomped her foot. “Hey, watch it.”
Randall gave her a quizzical look. “What?”
“Oi!” Harald called. “You get it?”
“Get what?” Whimsy asked. She hovered near one of the desks at the edge of the bullpen, chatting with the woman sitting there. The desk had an oil lamp on it. Abbee hadn’t swept over there yet, but she intended to ask the woman why she had a regular oil lamp when there were so many magical lights in the room.
Whimsy pushed off the desk and intercepted Randall. Harald’s expression became alarmed. Whimsy pointed at Randall. “What do you have there in your pocket, Randall? Wouldn’t happen to be a jar of Dottie’s Magic Cure-All, would it? Don’t look surprised. Harald’s practically itched a hole through the bottom of his trousers today. Harald, if you want me to find out something’s up, the best way to do it is trying to avoid me all day, which is what you’ve been doing. Bravo. I know you’re—”
Harald turned bright red. “I’m not—”
“—suffering from a bad case of—”
“Don’t you say it,” Harald hissed. “Randall, give that here.”
Randall stepped around Whimsy and fished a small jar out of his pocket. “Be careful with this, Harald. They said you gotta—”
Harald grabbed it and twisted off the lid. A pungent smell wafted into the air. Abbee’s eyes watered, and she covered her nose with her arm.
“Whoa, that’s strong,” Harald said, blinking. He held the jar away from his face.
Abbee saw how the jar’s smell wafted across the bullpen on account of the ripple of constables lifting their noses to the air and recoiling.
“Hey, hey, hey,” the woman with the oil lamp said. “Is that Dottie’s Magic Cure-All? Can’t you read? It’s got a big warning label on it that says ‘for outdoor use only.’”
“How do you know it’s got that label?” Randall asked.
The woman’s face flushed. “I … uh, never mind.”
Whimsy snickered. She turned back to Harald. “If you use that, Harald, I give it ten-to-one odds you’ll be coming to see me for burns.”
“Burns?” Harald asked. He peered at the jar. “It doesn’t say anything about … no, wait, here it is.” His eyebrows climbed up his head. “What’s this stuff made out of?”
“I bet you got to the part where it says ‘Do not drink—seller not responsible for throat damage,’” Whimsy said. “What’ll it be, Harald? Are you gonna see me for burns on your hands and your bottom, or just an itch on your bottom? I’m not choosy.”
“I don’t want you blabbering to everybody in the precinct what I got,” Harald said.
“Everybody knows already,” Whimsy said. “C’mon, Harald, let’s go downstairs and get you taken care of. You can give me that jar. I’ve got a nasty stain on the infirmary floor, and I bet that’ll take it off.”
“The floor down there is stone,” Harald said.
“Right, and that stuff will etch into it.”
Harald gave Randall an accusing look. “You said this would help.”
Randall snorted. “You asked for that, Harald. I only fetched it for you because you’re stuck on the intake desk. It was your idea. Look, I’ll cover the desk for you while you’re getting sorted out, all right?”
The front door banged open, and a breathless constable appeared. The light outside had a blue tinge to it. “Shield!” the constable shouted. “Shield over the Yards!”
“What?” several people asked at once.
The constable pushed the front door wide open and pointed outside. Crackling blue energy crisscrossed over the sky. Abbee got the sense that it curved down in places. Blue light flashed. Once, twice, three times. Abbee had never seen anything like it. From the surprised faces around her, the constables hadn’t either.
Everybody started babbling at once. “What is that? Where’d it come from? What’s going on?”
A sharp, powerful whistle tore through the bullpen, silencing the rising chorus. Abbee turned and saw Captain Barnes with her fingers in her mouth. She put them down and said in a crisp voice, “Vit, I want to know how many patrols we have outside the precinct right now. Whimsy, get downstairs and prep for incoming injuries. We just had the White Ring in here, and we know how careful they are. This smells like their—” Captain Barnes snapped her fingers. “Vit! Vit!”
Vit rolled out into the hallway on his stool. He had a confused expression on his face. “Sir, I’m not getting anybody—”
“Contact Parn,” Captain Barnes snapped. “I bet he’s right in the middle of this.”
Vit nodded. He rolled back into the dispatcher’s room. Rolled back out and shook his head. “Nobody, sir. I can’t raise anybody at all. The tabs aren’t working. Might as well be rocks.”
“Keep trying. Let me know the moment they work again.”
Vit rolled out of sight.
Outside, Abbee heard muffled booms. Far off. Everyone perked up at the sound. Randall walked out onto the front steps. Smoke billowed up behind a row of apartment buildings a few blocks away.
“Looks like it’s coming from the Windy,” Randall reported over his shoulder. “The Ringers were over there when I was on my way back to the precinct. Captain, should we go investigate?”
“No,” Captain Barnes said. “We’ll keep the peace once the Ringers are done breaking it. I don’t want to send anyone too far out there if I can’t communicate with them. Harald, man the door.” Barnes pointed at several constables clustered around the stewpot. “You lot, quit eating and take up positions in Three Points. Ferry reports back here as you get them. Don’t forget, you won’t be able to use your tabs. Randall, take our new gofer and go with them. I want to know what’s going on out there right after you do.” She blinked and wrinkled her nose. “For crying out loud, Harald, put a cap on that stuff! It’s making my eyes water all the way over here.”
***
Abbee spent the next hour or so running back and forth across the precinct’s lawn to Three Points. The messages were the same for a long time: “What’s going on?” and “We’re not sure yet.” The last message Abbee delivered from a Three Points darkened by evening changed abruptly to “Something’s out here killing people, and the Ringers can’t stop it.” Captain Barnes replaced Abbee with a real constable and told Whimsy to stash Abbee out of the way upstairs.
Whimsy led Abbee up the stairs off the bullpen. Past an empty square stone room, two offices, and down to a narrow door at the end. Whimsy shouldered open the door and pushed Abbee inside. A single magical light in the ceiling flared, illuminating a battered file cabinet, a plain writing desk, and an old chair.
“There’s a cot behind the cabinet,” Whimsy said. “Don’t touch anything. Stay here until someone comes to get you.”
“Wait—”
Whimsy stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her. Abbee heard her footfalls hasten up the hallway and fade down the steps.
She stood in the small room. It was barely bigger than a closet. The light in the ceiling cast stark shadows off everything. There was indeed a cot behind the cabinet. Abbee sat down on the cot. She realized how tired her legs were from delivering messages. She stretched. Felt a thump through the cot. The light in the ceiling flickered. Abbee stood back up. Listened. Muted, uncertain voices shouting somewhere down in the bullpen. She went to the door and put her hand on the doorknob. She felt another thump and heard crashes and more shouts. The shouts turned to screams. Terrible, terrible screams.
Abbee cracked the door. The screams grew louder.
“Warp it!” Captain Barnes yelled. “Warp it!” That last bit morphed into a gurgling scream.
Abbee heard a strange noise intermixed with shouts and screams from many voices. Sounded like crunching.
Half of Abbee’s body demanded she huddle on the cot behind the file cabinet. The other half was in control of Abbee’s feet and carried her forward out into the hallway. She edged along the wall, ready to dash back to dubious safety. She got far enough to peer down the steps into the bullpen.
It took her a couple of seconds to register what she was looking at. Shattered desks and chairs. Debris strewn everywhere, shredded constable jackets and trousers strewn all over the floor, and mixed in with all of it … Abbee gagged. Glistening globs of torn and shattered flesh, ruptured organs, and spattered blood. A constable backed onto the stairs, blocking Abbee’s view. She didn’t recognize him. The constable had his hand on his wand and faced the bullpen. Shouts and screams filled the air.
The constable flipped off the stairs, as if hit in the legs. He smashed into the floor with a grunt. Abbee watched his head and shoulder vanish, revealing a mess of innards and white bone. Abbee threw up in her mouth and backtracked away from the top of the stairs. She tripped and fell down on her bottom as she heard that same sickening crunching sound. The sound of bones snapping. The sound of someone being eaten. Whatever was eating that constable was at the foot of the stairs, and there wasn’t anything between it and Abbee.
She turned and fled. Ran to the end of the hall. No way out. Abbee shouldered her way through the last door. The light in the ceiling flicked on again. Heart pounding, Abbee flew to the cot. Pushed herself into the corner of the room, onto the cot behind the file cabinet. Her breath sounded ragged in her own ears. She peered around the cabinet and realized she’d left the door open. Abbee jumped up and closed the door and returned to her corner. She tried to climb under the cot, but it was too low. Abbee smashed herself into the corner and tucked herself into the smallest ball. She knew she’d be dead if anything came up here, but she hoped and hoped and hoped she was safe.
No one came. The door didn’t open. The shouts and screams in the bullpen faded away to nothing.
Abbee sat there for a long time. Her breath smoothed out and her muscles relaxed. She was about to scoot forward when she heard a thunderous crack. Close. Very close. Another crack. Another.
The silence stretched out. Abbee huddled in a ball. She lost track of how long she had sat there, staring at the door. A knock. Abbee screamed and clapped her hand over her mouth. What if it was the monster? Had it killed and eaten everyone in the precinct, and now it was coming for her?
The door cracked open. “Abbee?”
“W-Whimsy?” Abbee squeaked.
“It’s okay,” Whimsy said. She sounded ragged. Raw. “It’s over. It’s over.” She came inside the room. Her face was pale and her hands trembled.
“What was that?” Abbee asked. “I saw … I saw … It was invisible … Was it a monster?”
Whimsy sat down on the cot next to Abbee and put her arm around her. Pulled her close. Abbee hadn’t been hugged for weeks. Not since she had run away. Not since she’d last seen her mother alive. Abbee hugged Whimsy back. Whimsy’s artifact chip harness dug into her face, but she didn’t care.
“It was,” Whimsy said. “But it’s contained now. It won’t hurt anybody anymore.”
“What was it?”
“The wizards aren’t talking,” Whimsy said in a dark tone. “As usual. You’d think they’d be a bit more forthcoming after—well, they’re being tight-lipped. Parn too, which is weird, because normally he won’t shut up. But the wizards told him … He’s not talking, even after the captain and … everything. I don’t understand how he—”
“Where’s Randall?” Abbee asked.
Whimsy’s arms tightened. “I’m … I’m sorry, Abbee. Randall’s gone. The captain too. And so many—” She sucked in a breath, and her words stopped.
Abbee felt silent sobs rack Whimsy’s frame. She was sorry Randall and Captain Barnes were gone. She hoped they hadn’t been eaten alive. Both of them had been the first people who’d treated her with respect in a long time. It wasn’t fair.
Whimsy sniffed and cleared her throat. “We should get you home.”
Abbee stiffened. “I can’t.”
“Look, I know Randall likes … liked you and all, but the precinct’s no place for—”
“I can’t,” Abbee repeated. “I don’t have a home.”
Whimsy turned to look at Abbee’s face. “Where are your—”
“Mum’s gone,” Abbee said. She looked at the floor.
“And your—”
“I wish he was dead too. He—” Abbee touched the parts of her face that had finished healing a few days ago. “He … If you make me—” She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t think it. She looked Whimsy in the eye. “I’ll never go back. Not until I’m big enough to—” Abbee set her jaw. She’d never be big enough. She was too small, like her mother. “You might as well kill me now.”
Whimsy blinked. “Nobody’s doing that. You don’t have any—”
“I don’t have anybody.” Abbee thought about the bridge. She’d get a fifth strike showing up empty-handed. She wasn’t walking across town just to get rejected by Sammy. “There’s nobody.”
Whimsy sighed. “Well, this closet’s no place for you.” She stood up. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” Abbee asked.
“The infirmary,” Whimsy said. “I’ve been asking for a helper for ages. You’ll do.”
Abbee stood up and followed Whimsy out of the room. Down the hallway and the stairs. Abbee’s anxiety rose with every step. She didn’t want to see any more death. Didn’t want to see people she knew. She expected a disaster and got a clean room instead. The bullpen was back to normal, minus the people who worked there. The desks were all back in their original configuration. Some of them were missing. The blood and gore was all gone. So were the bodies.
Abbee frowned. “Where … there was—”
“Wizards,” Whimsy said. “They never show up when you need them, but they’re always quick to clean up their mess.”
Abbee saw a few constables here and there, sitting or standing in small clusters. Some spoke in hushed tones. Several had their heads in their hands. All had grim expressions. The last time Abbee had been in this room, she’d seen dozens of constables. She counted eight. Nine including Whimsy. The captain’s pedestal was empty. “Where is everybody?”
“They’re—” Whimsy let off a string of curses. The wizards featured heavily. “I can’t believe they trapped us in here with that thing. This way.” Whimsy threaded through the bullpen to the other side, toward the stairs heading down.
Abbee slowed. “Randall said downstairs was no place—”
“That was to keep you from falling into the mover pit,” Whimsy said, trotting down the steps. She paused on the landing and looked up at Abbee. “And if you still want to stay after what happened here tonight, then I’d say no place is off-limits to you. C’mon. I need someone handy with a mop.”