Chaos Broken (20 page)

Roosen put the groceries down, then fixed Gamber with a fierce look. He made a sweeping, dramatic gesture towards the door. ‘Get out.'

Gamber's manicured eyebrows snapped together. ‘No.'

‘This is my house,' Roosen said. ‘And you're going to leave, or I'll call for the City Watch.'

Gamber laughed. ‘They won't lift a finger for a domestic around here.'

‘I'm friends with a Captain,' I told him, massaging my temples with my fingertips. ‘They'll do more than lift a finger.'

At this revelation, Gamber stopped protesting and started for the living room. ‘I need to pack my things.'

‘No.' Roosen's voice was sharp. Gamber stumbled to a stop, eyes growing big.

‘But my paints,' he began.

‘You can get them from downstairs tomorrow,' Roosen said. ‘I'll pack them up.'

Gamber hesitated, then threw his hands up. ‘Fine. It's not like you're worth it anyway.'

He left the kitchen with a thunderous face, keeping clear of Roosen. The door slammed close a moment later. Roosen's face was pale.

‘Was it that easy?' he whispered.

‘Yeah.' The world swayed and I fell to my knees. ‘That easy.'

‘Lora?' Roosen rushed to my side. He gently helped me into the living room and directed me to a couch.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the spinning sensation to stop. ‘I'm fine. Just overstretched myself a bit with a spell.'

‘And you did that for me?' Roosen sounded choked up.

‘You said you needed help.'

‘I also told you to forget it.'

‘Guess that didn't stick as much as the sight of your black eye.'

‘You're a bit of a sweetheart, aren't you?'

‘I sure am.'

There was a pause, then, ‘Lora?'

‘Mmm?'

‘What happened to my kitchen?'

The worst of my headache was gone by the next morning, but I was thankful I hadn't pushed myself any further with the spell. My speciality, knock-'em-out spells were easy. It was only when you upgraded that your body started feeling the stress. Of course, that was unless you'd consumed some of the Apertor Elixir. I was still annoyed Laeonder had taken mine. That shit was
impossible
to find, even on the black market.

Crowhurst was late in picking me up, but arrived with two bacon and egg rolls, so he was quickly forgiven. Besides, I figured I was getting a little spoilt, being driven around everywhere, though it was saving me a fortune on rickshaw fees.

At Blackgoat, I decided to hide from the real world a while and read a street-press paper in Gideon's office, boots resting up on the desk. At some point, Crowhust joined me and began filling out the account books, occasionally stopping to mutter to himself. After a while, I got bored of reading gossip and settled back to chew on a nail to help me think, watching Crowhurst do math in his head. The meeting with Laeonder had unsettled me more than I had wanted to admit. When I was finished with that nail, I started on another one. By the time I was finished with one hand, I started on the other, hoping a brilliant idea was going to come to me about how to handle the High Grigori.

‘You can get germs that way,' Grubber rumbled from the doorway.

Dropping my hand, I motioned for him to come in. ‘You all set for tonight?' I asked him. ‘The client happy?'

Grubber lifted his shoulder. ‘No complaints so far.'

I realised the big Runner was waiting for permission to talk. ‘Something on your mind?' I asked him.

‘No one's been able to find this Kalin kid you wanted us to look out for. Some of us reckon he's hiding underground in the sewer system.'

‘You checking that out?' I asked.

‘Yeah.' Grubber grimaced. ‘We're checking the sewers out.'

‘Anyone down there who could help us?'

‘Found an old swamp nymph, but that's about it.'

‘She hadn't seen Kalin?'

Grubber rubbed his mouth. ‘We tried asking, even offered coin, but she just threatened to curse our cocks with warts if we didn't leave her alone.'

‘I'm sure she was bluffing,' I assured him.

‘I could try to find her again,' Grubber said, but he didn't look convinced, his large hands absently settling in front of his crotch in a defensive gesture.

‘Good,' I said. When Grubber hesitated in the doorway, I arched an eyebrow. ‘Is there something else?'

His eyes dropped. ‘We know the company's not doing so great.'

‘Blackgoat's doing just fine,' Crowhurst assured him, looking up from the accounts.

Grubber shuffled into the room and held out a small bag. ‘We took up a collection to try and help keep things going.'

I sat in stunned silence. The bag wavered in Grubber's hand, then he placed it on the desk in front of me, the coins inside clinking. ‘Anyway,' he said. ‘That's all I wanted to say.'

Crowhurst and I watched him go. The staircase creaked as he descended. After his heavy footsteps faded towards the kitchen, I lowered my forehead to the desk.

‘I can't take this,' I whispered. ‘They're all waiting for me to perform some sort of miracle and it's not going to happen.'

‘Deep breaths, Lora.'

I sat up, eyes locked on the bag. Pushing it aside, I knew I'd never take the Runner's hard-earned coin. I'd be returning the money. As soon as Blackgoat was doing okay, I would give it back. A nasty thought crossed my mind that maybe I could go to a gambling hall and double it. My jaw tightened at the prospect of losing the Runner's money to some simpering card dealer. Standing, I grabbed my cane.

‘Any chance you could give me a lift?' I asked Crowhurst.

‘Where are we going?' he asked.

‘Time to see a man about a play.'

***

Crowhurst dropped me off at the theatre. Nicola was pleased to see us and she grabbed me in a big bear hug. ‘I heard what you did for Roosen,' she whispered in my ear. ‘Thank you.'

Uncomfortable, I untangled myself from her grip. ‘Just doing my job.'

‘No.' Nicola shook her head. ‘You were doing more than that. You were helping a friend.'

I didn't want to burst her bubble and point out that I was just trying to get along with Roosen so he'd cooperate with me. Nicola gestured to where the portly writer was sitting in the back row of the seats.

‘He's been waiting for you,' she told me.

Dodging carpenters and painters who were constructing set pieces of Harken architecture, I approached Roosen, who had his head bowed, pen scribbling furiously away in a notepad. I cleared my throat and he blinked up at me for a moment, before recognition flooded his eyes.

‘Lora.' He patted the seat next to him. ‘Sit down. I've already made some notes and wanted to run them by you.'

I sat, leaning my cane beside me. ‘Shoot.'

He shuffled through his pages. ‘This is just cobbled together from information I've gathered so far.'

‘Oh yeah?' I asked. ‘Where from? It's probably not true.'

Roosen smiled. ‘That's not really important, is it?'

‘Depends on what lie we're going to run with.'

‘This isn't lying.' Roosen made a gesture with his ink-stained hands. ‘This is
theatre
.'

‘Okay, Mister Theatre, lay it on me.'

Roosen's voice dropped, taking on a sing-song lull. ‘The plays are about a woman with a destiny that hangs around her neck like a noose.'

‘Wait, wait.' I held my hands up, stopping him. ‘What do you know about that?'

Roosen flicked through a few pages, before stopping and squinting at one. ‘The prophecy of the Dreadwitch and Howling King, yes? That's what some people have connected you to?'

My throat felt very dry and the panic that had descended the first time we'd talked came back, tightening my chest. ‘I…ah…'

Roosen closed the book. ‘Let's take a step back. Let's look at your situation.'

I licked my lips. ‘Sure. Let's do that. What if you wrote a play about a woman struggling against a society for equal rights?'

Roosen chuckled. ‘And who would pay to go see that? We'd lose half our audience straight. No man would want to be lectured to about women's rights.'

I winced. ‘I think my brain just exploded with indignation.'

‘I'm not saying we can't touch on important and relevant issues,' Roosen said. ‘But we have to be more subversive than that. People don't want to be preached to, they want to be entertained. We'll have our morality story, but first, we need some
sensation
.' His eyes were shining in a way made me nervous.

‘What do you need from me?' I asked.

‘Tell me about yourself. As I said, I've got notes. But all tall tales. Rumour. Gossip.'

‘What kind of gossip?'

Roosen glanced down. ‘One of the more outrageous ones is that the Defiler tried to cast you out of the realm.'

‘That's a dirty lie. It was just a warning.'

‘You must have done something huge to get his attention.'

‘He just wanted me to behave.'

Roosen's pen quivered above a fresh page. ‘I don't understand.'

‘Ahhh…well, it's kind of hard to know where to start,' I hedged. The first time I'd met the Defiler, it had been when a furious Craft Aldermen had summoned him to drag me back to their council chambers and answer some uncomfortable questions. The second time I'd met him, it had been soon after the battle with a hellspawn in Avalon Square. I'd been using magic and had been bleeding all over the place. My blood had somehow ignited with the magics and from it, a dark power had beckoned me: chaos magic. The Defiler had called me an abomination, had claimed that if I embraced chaos magic, I would be struck down. Not that I needed that motivation The dark power had beckoned me from a deep abyss, one that if I knew if I fell into, I would never resurface.

Roosen rested the pen in the book and closed it. ‘You can trust me, Lora. What I want to do is hear the story through the prism of your voice. I want to get a feel for who Lora Blackgoat is.' He rolled his hands. ‘Then we'll make you bigger. Better. Faster. Stronger. Someone to inspire awe. A heroine of the city.'

‘Hero,' I murmured absently. My eyes roamed the theatre, taking in the bustling activity. Nicola was talking to a group of carpenters about a particular piece of machinery, material samples in one hand. I realised I considered her a friend, just like Crowhurst. Almost family, really. People who were relying on me. I hadn't forgotten the bag of money collected by those who trusted me to keep their jobs.

So I took a deep breath and began.

Around noon, my throat was sore and I was ready for a serious lie down. Someone bought in sandwiches and Roosen and I agreed to break for the day. I was disturbed by the amount of information he had on me, albeit mostly embellishments, half-truths and a few outright lies. It sounded like a mess to me, but Roosen was becoming more convinced he had a story he could craft, along with a moderately disturbing twinkle in his eye.

‘How's it going?' Crowhurst asked. He'd appeared soon after the sandwiches and was stuffing a roast beef on rye into his mouth.

‘Good, I think.' I snagged a salami and tomato. ‘I've just been talking about some jobs I've done since I became a Runner.'

‘Be careful about what secrets you tell.' Crowhurst shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth.

I rolled my eyes. ‘You think I was born yesterday?'

‘Lora.' Nicola approached, Tarn cuddled in her arms. ‘Roosen looks delighted with what you're giving him.'

‘That's great,' I said. ‘How's your impersonation of me going?'

‘Great.' She beamed. ‘It's quite simple really. You just have to believe your own lie, you know?'

‘Not really.'

‘It's all about the eyes. You've got to be able to look at a person in the eye and convince them you believe.' She offered baby Tarn my way. ‘Here?'

‘None for me.' I waved my hands about.

‘Don't be stupid, Lora,' Crowhurst said. ‘Just take the baby.'

Nicola took Crowhurst's words as assent on my behalf and shoved the child into my arms. Realising she was going to let go, I grabbed the baby's waist and held it out from me.

‘Don't hold him like that,' Nicola chided. ‘Give him a cuddle.'

Tucking baby Tarn against me, I tried to rock him.

‘Nice and gentle.' Nicola coached.

‘Remember, they can smell your fear,' Crowhurst added.

Eyes dropping to the baby, I searched inside myself for some sort of maternal thread that would tell me how to act. The baby stared back at me with its big eyes and for a moment it was like a staring contest. I narrowed my eyes. No way was I losing to a baby.

‘Look at the two of you,' Nicola cooed. ‘So sweet.'

The baby hiccupped.

‘He's got wind,' Crowhurst said. ‘Pat his back.'

‘Put him over your shoulder first,' Nicola added.

‘Be careful of the neck.'

‘Don't jolt him too hard.'

The baby secured on my shoulder, I tapped his back and was rewarded with a warm sensation down my back.

‘Will you look at that, he's done a little sick,' Nicola cooed.

I quickly passed him back to her. ‘I think that's enough for today.'

Nicola tucked the baby against her hip, wiping his mouth with a cloth she had produced from a pocket. ‘That wasn't so bad, was it?'

‘Guess not.' I wiped my sweaty palms against the side of my trousers.

‘She was talking to the baby,' Crowhurst told me.

‘He's a cute kid.' I gave her a smile. ‘But my life is more about hexing and drinking, you know?'

Nicola's eyes glistened bright and she passed me the cloth. ‘Of course.'