The Lostkind (67 page)

Read The Lostkind Online

Authors: Matt Stephens

Vincent wasn't sure how much damage there was to repair in the Secret City, but studied the newspapers. Here and there, a story mentioned a small catering business folding under sudden unexpected losses, or a mention of a sudden spate of petty thefts from chemists and hospitals.

~oo00oo~

Tecca was terrified, fidgeting constantly, pacing up and down the hallway. Connie was right beside him, and took her hand in his. "Last chance to back out."

Tecca shook his head and squeezed her hand. "You sure you want to do this? Without Vincent?"

Connie smiled warmly. "Vincent and I would have been great together; now that I've gotten over my fear. But I think you know that we both moved on a long time ago."

Tecca put on his most determined expression and pushed the door open. "This Family Court?" He said archly to the woman behind the reception counter.

"Yes it is." The receptionist dutifully informed the boy.

The formerly Lost Boy set his jaw. "I'm Tecca, and this is my mom." He said it as though he was expecting her to argue the point with him.

"Connie Harnell." Connie stepped forward and said with a smile. "I have an appointment with Judge Lamar. We're here to apply for a petition to begin adoption proceedings."

~oo00oo~

Gill ordered a cup of coffee and a sandwich from the same place he'd bought lunch every day. He sat down on the same public bench to eat and watched the people walk by, going about their day.

And then he looked up and found Vincent sitting casually on the other end of the bench.

Gill nearly gagged on his sandwich. "Vincent! My god!" He jumped up and took his friend in a fierce hug. "We waited around your apartment half the night waiting for you to come back."

"I know, and I'm sorry about that. Winning the fight was relatively quick; navigating the aftermath, that was hard." Vincent suddenly noticed the sandwich in his hand. "Ah! Food! I haven't eaten anything store-bought in days." He checked through his outfit, felt through the cloak… "I don't have any money."

Gill stood. "I'm buying."

Vincent followed him. "I hear you landed on your feet."

"You've spoken to Connie then?"

Vincent smiled secretly. "Nope. But I hear things."

Gill handed him the sandwich and paid the vendor; oddly unsettled by that. "Well... It'll take my new employers a while to figure out what a cynic I really am."

"Mm. I went into the office when I got back." Vincent commented to Gill, eating quickly. "When they told me you'd been sacked I wasn't really surprised."

Gill blinked. "What made you go back to the office?"

"Well, they may have sacked you, but I still work there. Plus, I went down to the Archives room to make sure you'd taken everything outta there." Vincent explained. "Plus, I had to get to work quickly to cover for the next week. The old food stores in the Underside were destroyed, and the new stuff is not going to stay edible for long. The bad guys weren't big on laying in long term provisions; they wanted the ritzy stuff. So there'll be a snap garbage strike tomorrow; but it'll only affect a few of the neighborhoods with too many supermarkets; and it'll only last a week." Vincent toasted with the cup. "But that became more my problem than yours, I guess."

Gill burst out laughing. "They fix a garbage strike so they can grab the stuff a supermarket throws out?"

"Supermarket fruit, veg, milk and bread all has to be fresh from day to day." Vincent explained like it was obvious. "They throw out tons of stuff that's still good."

"No, I'm not complaining, I'm just wondering… How often do you think this sort of thing goes on? What else does the world beneath the world
do
?"

"A lot less than it could have, thanks to us." Vincent said with quiet victory.

"To us!" Gill toasted, and took a drink of his coffee. "I find I'm looking around the city… It's entirely different now. Except nothing really changed." Gill waved inarticulately. "I don't know how to say it."

Vincent chuckled. "I know exactly what you mean. Three years ago, I was you. The morning after I first met Yasi, we sat on this bench, you ordered that exact same sandwich, and I looked around the same way you're looking now. There was a Homeless woman on the other side of the street; asking for change. Who would have thought to look at that old beggar that the eyes of great ones were watching us? The only thing that changed is you. You have new eyes, Gill."

"I do." Gill agreed quietly; accepting the weight that knowledge had comfortably laid on his shoulders. For a time; the two old friends sat quietly; looking over this smallest section of the city. To their left; a street musician was tapping out a song on an upturned paint tin. The other way; a small girl was feeding pigeons with bits of her sandwich.

Any one of them could have been something extraordinary; any one of the could have had a secret knowledge of the world; the way Vincent and Gill now had.

"Who are they Vincent?" Gill asked finally. "Have we made a mistake letting them keep the secret? Should we have shone a spotlight on them after all?"

"I asked myself that question over and over once. I don't any more." Vincent nodded, recalling the time he had first asked that question of Archivist and Yasi. Wearing his Lostkind gear, he even looked the part that they had played years before. "They are the ones that you have trained yourself not to see. The child that walks alone with purpose, so you assume he is not lost. The filthy beggar that offends your senses, so you turn your eyes away. The 'they' that people speak of in whispers, the Gremlins that flit away when you notice something move behind you; the Ghosts in the Machine. We are the Lostkind. We are not the enemy; we are not afraid."

Gill reacted. "We?"

Vincent didn't make a fuss of it, just acknowledged that he was indeed part of their world now. "Yup." He drained the last of his coffee. "I have to go, before I miss my own party."

"You should." Gill agreed as his friend rose to leave. "Hey Vincent?"

Vincent paused and looked back over his shoulder without turning. "Yeah?"

"The things I know about this city now… I can't believe it's all been here all this time and I never noticed. I can't believe I know all about it now. I
really
can't believe
Benji
knows everything I do on the subject."

Vincent burst out laughing. "Thank you for everything, my friend."

He walked off, in no particular hurry. Gill tossed his empty coffee cup away, and looked back.

Vincent had vanished.

Feeling a chill, Gill started to make his way home, strangely doubtful that he would ever see his friend again.

"Can you spare some change, mister?"

Gill emerged from his thoughts and saw a homeless man nearby, holding out a hand beseechingly.

Gill hesitated… and promptly gave the man every cent he had with him.

~oo00oo~

The Throne Room had been restored to what it was; with three Chairs of Authority. Keeper had recovered enough that she could sit; in the Centre Seat; Yasi at her right. The Chair to her left had a black ribbon laid over the back; in memory of Archivist.

Keeper spoke, and everyone quieted instantly to listen. "This is the first meeting we have held here since the Invasion, and subsequent victory. Even so, our business here is unusual. Very rarely do we make this effort to honor an individual… but these are
exceptional
individuals."

The room burst into light applause. The mood was formal, but very relaxed; a traditional ceremony being carried out among close friends. The general feeling was one of celebration; not solemnity.

"First…" Keeper said. "I believe there's a small matter that needs to be seen to. In the last few weeks; my home has needed decisive leadership; and due to the… limited strength I have left to me after the Invasion… I was not equal to the task. It has been a demonstration of how capable my daughter is; and how ready she is to take my place; as head of the Triumvirate."

There was a sentimental moment from those assembled. It did not come as any great shock to anyone; given Keeper's age, her injuries, and her obvious heartbreak at the loss of her husband. She was making as little fuss about it as possible; life was going on.

Yasi rose smoothly and stepped forward. "As my last act as Shinobi Captain; I must name my successor. The last few months have been exceptional. For the most part, we are guardians of the secret and peace-keepers in the markets. Every now and then, the extraordinary happens. The Captain of the New York Ninja must be equal parts steady peacemaker, and tenacious warrior. Recent events have proven my trusted lieutenant more than equal to the task." Yasi unslung the sword from her back, and raised it up." This sword has been held for generations by the Captain of the Shinobi. Of all the tools of our trade, it is the very best." Yasi held it out, hilt first to Dorcan. "Wield it with pride,
Captain
."

Dorcan took it solemnly, and slung it across his own spine.

"Salute!" Yasi barked, and every Shinobi in the room quickly drew their own swords, holding the blades vertically before their faces, as in a fencing salute. Dorcan snap-drew his new blade smoothly and returned it.

Keeper struggled a little, but rose to her feet and stepped down from her chair, coming over to shake his hand. The room applauded, cheering appreciatively for Dorcan. Yasi took her new seat, the Centre Chair that Keeper had stepped away from; and Dorcan sat at her right hand; the traditional seat for the Captain of the Shinobi.

"And now, we come to my last piece of business as Chief of the Underside." Keeper smirked. "Bring him in."

With anticipation, the crowds parted, making a path to the entrance. Vincent strode into the chamber, very aware that every eye was on him, and he paused before the Three Thrones.

Keeper spoke again, not taking her eyes off him. "You all know Vincent. The Upsider who became a familiar to the Triumvirate, then an ally to the Lostkind; then a friend to the Underside; and at last a hero to us all. There are people who belong on the surface; walking through the world before their eyes without seeing it; and then there are those that look closer; and find where and what they are meant to be. Vincent has proven to be far too valuable where he is Above; but nobody can deny where he truly belongs." She paused for a microsecond. "Not even me."

Yasi came forward, and stood by his side; as they faced the assembled members of the Underside. With a restrained smile, Vincent raised his left hand, and placed it over his chest; revealing a glyph tattooed where his wristwatch would normally be. It was the mark of the Lostkind; similar to Yasi's tribal inks.

Yasi smiled as the applause followed, and gave him a warm kiss on the corner of his mouth. He smiled at her and held her hand in return. The applause grew stronger.

"Vincent McCall will always walk in both worlds; the first and likely the
only
one ever to do so." Yasi called over the warm adulation. "But many things have changed in the last few years; and wherever he walks, we are glad to know that he'll always come back here; where he belongs… as one of us."

Dorcan held the sheathed sword high and cheered. His assembled forces did the same with a victory roar; and the party began in earnest. As the celebration began; Yasi sidled up to Vincent and gave his hand a squeeze. "Welcome home." She whispered in his ear.

Vincent couldn't restrain himself and kissed her soundly. She responded without hesitation, and the enthusiastic grin that threatened to split his lip when they broke made her laugh.

The Lostkind responded to their excitement with their own; embracing their new family member; letting the fears of the last few weeks, and the pain of what they had lost give way to what they had gained in return.

The Secret City celebrated being alive and being free; wild and glorious; safely away from the eyes of the world Above.

END

Table of Contents

THE LOSTKIND

ONE: Yasi

TWO: Hiding In Plain Sight

THREE: Intensive Care

FOUR: The Story

FIVE: The Three Rules

SIX: Two Years Later

SEVEN: "That's Round One…"

EIGHT: The Ultimate Kingmaker

NINE: The Battle On The Seven Steps

TEN: "I Don't Want To Lose You."

ELEVEN: Plans in Motion

TWELVE: The New York Ninja

THIRTEEN: The First Duty

FOURTEEN: Invasion

FIFTEEN: The Last Line Of Defense

SIXTEEN: Three Rules, Always

SEVENTEEN: Rule One: Be Invisible

EIGHTEEN: Rule Two: Be Daring

NINETEEN: Rule Three: Be Beautiful

TWENTY: "Who Are They, Vincent?"

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