Heart of Veridon (36 page)

“Long gone, Jacob. The ones in the water, they got it before I even knew they were there. They took it down through the channels, then blew it up behind them. That’s what took the roof.”

“I left it with you, Wilson.” I lay my hands palm up on my knees. “I trusted you.”

“We trusted each other, Jacob. Funny timing.”

“What?”

“I said, funny timing. You left with Emily, and they came in on your heels.” He flexed his extra arms nervously, his prime arms folded loosely in his lap, hand near the open fold of his scorched coat. I remembered that he had two knives, and I had only seen one broken in the cistern. “You see anything on your way out? Talk to anyone, maybe?”

“You have to be kidding,” I said. “All that’s happened, all that we’ve seen... you’re accusing me of selling you and Emily out to the Badge?”

“You show up, take the girl, and rush right out again. Tell us some kind of story about hitting the Church of the Algorithm,” he said evenly, the anger I expected paved under a layer of fatigue. “Badge walks in, and you’re heading out the door.”

“So you think I told them where the Cog was and cut my losses? That I made a deal?”

“Makes some sense. You had Emily with you, knew she wouldn’t get hurt. Probably couldn’t just hand the Cog over, cuz they’d put you down rather than pay you. Me, they weren’t so careful about.”

“Why in the hell would I do that, Wilson? Why would I sell you out?”

“Things are bad, Jacob. Complicated bad. Maybe you found yourself a way out, and knew I wouldn’t take the deal. And you didn’t want to give Emily a chance to turn it down, either.”

“Seriously, fuck you.”

He shrugged. “My loyalty is to her, Jacob. Not you. If you sold us out, I’ll learn of it. If you let them hurt her—”

“Let them hurt her? Let them? Do you have any idea what she and I went through after we left you? As long as they didn’t have the Cog, it didn’t matter what they did to me. Soon as you let them get it—”

The knife was against my throat before I could move. It was plenty sharp.

“Say that again,” Wilson said, quiet. “Tell me it was my fault one more fucking time.”

I swallowed and tried to back into the wall. His hand followed me the whole way, steady as stone.

“Two ways we can go from here, Wilson. One of them gets Em killed. The other one, we talk this out, come up with a plan, and break her out.”

“And kill the people who have her.”

“Of course.”

“You’re assuming that I can’t get her free myself, Jacob. That I need your help.”

“You do. And I sure as hell can’t do it without your help.”

He stared at me for a while, his dark eyes reflected in the barbs and arcs of his blade. Finally he put it down.

“This is true. So tell me, Jacob Burn. Where have you been? And what shall we do about our girl?”

“You won’t believe me. I don’t believe me. But I learned that the thing in my chest is a very old artifact, hidden there with my father’s blessing. And the Cog is the heart of a dead god.”

“We already knew that,” he said.

“Now we know it for sure. I’ve seen another one, in the Church of the Algorithm. And I’ve met the girl.”

“Girl?”

“Camilla. Martyred goddess of Veridon.”

I told him loosely where I’d been, what I’d seen. He looked at me without expression. When I was done he nodded once.

“These things are connected?” he asked. I nodded. “So, the Council found something and they’re trying to keep it from the Church.”

“Better. The Council is trying to keep it for themselves. There’s a split, the old Families and the Young Seats. Like you said, things are bad complicated.”

“And they’ve taken Emily—”

“To get to me. To lure me in. Also, they’re planning on offering her to the Angel. They’re making her the ideal host.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Your father?”

“Ambushed me twice, betrayed the Council to deal me to the Church, then tried to get me to surrender to the Tombs. You saw that part.”

“Yes. I followed you from the Manor Burn. That servant, what’s his name? William. He left right after you.”

“Probably to warn my father. I had to move slow, avoid the patrols. That’s how Tomb had those guards waiting for me.” I crossed my arms and gave Wilson a curious look. “Why were you watching my house?”

“I had my suspicions. If you dealt us to the Council, it was only a matter of time before you showed up at home.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

“So. What do we do?”

I sighed and folded my hands.

“We need to decide who we trust. Tomb told me that Emily is with Sloane. It was the Badge that attacked you? You’re sure?”

He nodded.

“So that makes sense. She said they had her on the Torchlight.”

“The Torch’?”

I nodded. “In the base.”

“That’s a fortified compound. We’ll never get in there.”

“Oh, I imagine we’ll get in. They want us to get in. It’s getting out that has me worried.”

“That’s something that has us all worried, Jacob Burn,” a voice said behind me, from the shadows of the shattered staircase. The voice was musical, pipes and pistons in a semblance of humanity.

Wilson didn’t move. My hands were working the action on Emily’s shotgun even as I remembered it was empty.

A dark bulk resolved into a man of cogs and metal. Valentine. He was not alone. Others stood behind him, keeping to the shadows, weapons in their hands. I counted at least three.

“How do people keep finding me?” I muttered. “What the hell are you doing here, boss?”

“You are cutting a wide wake through the city, Jacob. I have had eyes on all the major players for the last couple days. Ever since the incident at the Tomb Manor. When your path crossed your father’s and the Lady Tomb, I decided it was time to step in. We have some things to discuss, I imagine.”

He took an envelope out of his waistcoat and dropped it in my lap. It was addressed to Valentine, City of Veridon. The edges of the envelope were dirty and worn. I opened it and read the single sheet of paper inside.

— As we agreed: GLORY OF DAY. Have your best men on board.

— Signed, Marcus Pitts.

“Yeah,” I said. “I imagine we do.”

“I
DO NOT
think of it as dishonesty, Mr. Burn.”

We were in a carriage, too many of us for the cabin. Wilson and I stank of ash and sewage and blood. The leather seat creaked as we tried to make enough room for all of us, and our guns and knives and mistrust.

“I do. It’s nothing personal, Valentine. But all this, I have to call it dishonest.”

“Good to know it’s not personal,” Cacher spat. He had been glaring at me ever since he stepped out from behind the boss back in the basement. He had a handful of dirty looks for Wilson, too. Some history there I didn’t know.

“Quiet,” Valentine said, gave Cacher the barest nod. “Jacob, you have to understand my position. I cannot stand up against the Council and the Church. It would be open war. My organization can not have that fight.”

“You could have warned me.”

“I wasn’t sure I could. I wasn’t sure you wouldn’t tell Emily.”

“You knew about her?”

He shrugged. “I knew something wasn’t right. But I wasn’t sure.”

“Where is she, bastard?” Cacher asked, menacing me with his black, blunt shortrifle.

“Fuck off, Cach.”

“Don’t tell me to—”

“Fuck off, Cacher,” Valentine said.

“What else did you know about?” I asked. “About the Cog, and the Council? How did you find out about all of this?”

“Ah. Straight from Marcus, actually.” Valentine shrugged and tried to settle more comfortably into his bench. Cacher struggled further against the wall of the carriage. The other two thugs were up top, driving us somewhere. “I started getting messages from him two weeks before your spectacular accident. More and more desperate, the closer he got to Veridon.”

“You knew what he had?”

“Not completely. He wanted help, he was scared. Of that Angel, in retrospect, though he never specified. It was killing the expedition, one at a time. He was scared he wouldn’t make it to the city.”

“Like she wanted,” I whispered, thinking of Camilla’s plan to lure vengeance into Veridon.

“Who?”

I shook my head. “So, he wanted your help. And he tried to buy it with the Cog?”

“Yes. With knowledge of what it was, where it came from.” Valentine spread his wide, flat hands. “I couldn’t do it, obviously. Too many variables, and no idea if I could trust him.”

“So you sent me?”

“I knew when he was coming. Knew he was pursued. I wanted a man in place.”

“Me?”

He nodded.

“I’m going to get back to this, boss, because I really feel that it’s pretty important. You could have told me.”

“I didn’t know what to expect. I had no idea what you were going into. How could I warn you?”

“You could have told me to be prepared.”

“Jacob, the day I have to tell you to be prepared for trouble, that’s the day I will no longer trust you.”

I leaned back in the chair, staring off into the distance. Veridon rumbled past us through the wire webbed protective glass of the carriage.

“So what now?” I asked.

“I’ve been on the sidelines long enough. Things are precarious enough, now.” He futzed with the clasp on his cuff, unbuttoning it, adjusting the shirt sleeve and reattaching the cufflink. “I think it’s time for me to help.”

I laughed quietly, once. “You want to help? Now? All the time I spent hiding, unarmed, the Badge and Council and Church trying to kill me. You want to help now?”

He shrugged. “Too many factors, Jacob. But I’m here now. Don’t turn down an ally. You could use a friend.”

“Yeah,” I said, thoughtfully. “Yeah, I could. Okay. You want to help me?” I pushed the empty shotgun into his lap. “Let’s start by loading this gun.”

Valentine smiled. “That’s my Jacob. That’s the way.” He reached behind the seat and produced a box of shells and handed them to me. Just like Valentine, to have an extra box lying around.

I loaded the gun, one shell at a time. It held six shells, lined up down the barrel. A good gun. I couldn’t help but think of the Angel, coming down the hall as I knelt in the Manor Tomb, fumbling with the cylinder. That’s what it comes down to, sometimes. Clear action in the face of danger. Keeping your head when everyone else around you is freaking out. I loaded the gun smoothly, one shell, then the next, until the cylinder was full. I snapped the gun shut, then laid the barrel against Valentine’s chest. Cacher raised his alley piece and snarled.

Wilson’s talon tipped arms pounced forward, a sharp edge resting on Cacher’s face, his neck, below his eye. He pushed just hard enough that Cacher had to strain backwards to keep his skin intact.

“You’re going to put your gun down, son,” Wilson said, his voice low with menace and anger. Cacher complied.

“This isn’t necessary, Jacob,” Valentine said. “You can just tell me to fuck off. I would understand. Probably what I would do in your shoes.”

“You wouldn’t be in my shoes, boss. You’d hire some sucker to get the shit kicked out of him. You stopped getting your hands dirty twenty years ago.”

“On the contrary. I keep my hands quite dirty. Part of the job. But you’re right, I wouldn’t let myself get where you are. So.” He kept his clockwork face neutral, wouldn’t look at the gun. “What now?”

“I want to be clear about this. I appreciate what you’ve done for me. Took me in, watched out for me. Gave a fuck when no one else would. But I think this was one too far. I don’t want you as an enemy, Valentine. But I think I’m done with having you as a friend.”

“Not the best move, Jacob. It’s a different world, without my protection. Where would you be right now, if I hadn’t put you on that zep with Marcus? You wouldn’t have known anything was up, and the Council could have plucked you off the street without a word of trouble. You’d be dead, and you wouldn’t even know why.”

“Maybe. Would’ve saved me a hell of a lot of trouble. No, boss, this is it. Pull it over.”

He banged on the carriage roof and we pulled over. I kept my gun on Valentine as we got out. Wilson left Cacher with a healthy set of new scars. We backed into an alley, the two thugs on top watching us go. Valentine smiled and waved.

“Good luck, Jacob. And stay out of my sight for a little while.”

“I’ll probably be dead, boss. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

We slipped away. A second later the carriage started up. When it was gone we ran, keeping buildings between us and the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in, and dusk settled with the sound of distant thunder rolling down the Reine, echoing off the city’s high walls.

S
OMEONE HAD BEEN
in my room. No real surprise. They had torn through the rest of the city looking for me, I suppose someone along the way might have stopped in to my rented quarters up here on the Torch’, to see if I’d left anything important behind. Their mistake. I didn’t own anything important. That was the key to my life. Mobility, emotional and physical.