Kaelen took one step and immediately regretted it. The ground squished unpleasantly.
“This is barbaric,” he said.
Jade hopped off the last rung and landed beside him without hesitation. “Nah. This is home turf. Smugglers come thru ‘ere with crates bigger than mah head. Compared to ‘em, ya got it easy.”
“That does not make the smell any less offensive.”
“Then don’t breathe with yer bloody nose, idjit.”
Kaelen grimaced. If the girl wasn’t useful – and if he was still able to lay his hands on people – she’d be lying with a broken neck somewhere in this ditch. But life in this new age was, regrettably, not so simple, so he ignored his companion’s remarks and continued walking.
The ceiling occasionally got low enough that he had to dip his head. Jade walked easily, hands in her pockets, stepping along dry stones as if she had mapped every inch of the tunnel. Pipes ran overhead, dripping every now and then. The trickling water echoed through the cramped corridor, giving each sound a doubled, hollow quality.
Jade explained the branching tunnels while they walked. “This one goes to the north gate. But that’s where most o’ the guards double-check during lockdowns. So we’re takin’ the west route to an old storm drain. Nobody uses it unless they’re embarrassingly desperate.”
“Is that route safe?”
“Nope.”
“Then why would we use it?”
“‘Cause ya asked for a quiet route. Quiet routes aren’t ever safe. Like they say, ‘It’s the quiet fart that turns to shit.’”
Kaelen sighed. He had dealt with assassins, demonspawn, warlocks, and worse. But never before had any of his companions been such a sewer mouth — which, taking their current setting into account, was quite appropriate.
They had barely gone a hundred paces into the sewers when Jade slowed and raised a hand. Kaelen stopped without comment. He, the most powerful person on the planet, would have to rely on this child’s expertise for the next few hours.
“Ah, bugger my face! I think I forgot it,” Jade complained. “D’ya have a non-flammable torch?”
Kaelen could see everything perfectly, thanks to his [Dark Vision], but that was of little help to his undersized guide. He wondered how she could even navigate the night streets without a similar vision.
“I’ve got something better.” He made a simple gesture in the air.
[Luminaire]
A small glowing orb flew from his fingertips.
“It ain’t gonna attack me, right?” she asked apprehensively. The girl had little experience with magic, it seemed.
“Not unless you give it a reason to,” Kaelen lied. Truth be told, [Luminaire] was one of the few completely harmless spells at his disposal, but the girl didn’t need to know that.
“Is it made out o’ fire?”
“No. It’s concentrated light. It generates no more heat than luminescent mushrooms.”
“Good. Because if ya smell it,” she sniffed, “that’s gas. Not a good idea settin’ it on fire. One spark an’ everything goes ka-boomey. Ya might even end up outside New Velengard. Or what’s left of ya, anyway.”
Now that the girl mentioned it, Kaelen could indeed sense it. The stench of compost, decay and organic gas. The girl motioned for them to move on, with the glowing orb following her like a trained dragonfly.
At the junction ahead, three tunnels split off like cracked fingers. The brickwork was old, stained dark by moisture and runoff, and the ceiling dipped low enough that Kaelen had to bow his head slightly, which he hated. He was not accustomed to lowering his head. Jade crouched too, for some reason, even though she was a head and a half shorter than Kaelen.
Kaelen looked at one of the columns. There were drawings there. Crude, quick and obviously not meant to last long.
Jade nodded to herself. “Good. Still here.”
Kaelen leaned closer. “The pictures tell you where to go?”
“Or where to go. Whatever we do, we shan’t go lower. People often lose their loot and lives down there,” she said and pointed at one of the markings: a simple face, hollow eyes, mouth crossed out with a thick X. “Here. This one means don’t go right.”
“And why not?”
“The Mutes.”
Kaelen glanced down the tunnel. “Are those some sewer-dwelling monsters?”
“Worse. They’re a rival gang. One o’ the two biggest in New Velengard.” She tapped the symbol with one finger. “And this is their sign.”
“One of the two biggest?” Kaelen repeated. “I take it, you belong to the other one?”
“Maybe. Now shush your arse.”
Kaelen remembered the chalk symbol he saw on Jade’s door. “Let me guess, your gang’s sign is a yellow hand holding a sword?”
Jade’s eyes flashed at him. “Ya sure ya ain’t an inquisitor? That’s right, we’re the Good Knights.”
Kaelen’s eyebrow rose slightly. “You aware of the irony, I pray?”
“I said we’re knights, not saints. We only rob and stab people when they really deserve it.”
“How do you decide that?”
Jade shrugged. “It’s instinctual. Some faces’re just askin’ for a nice stab.”
For once, Kaelen couldn’t disagree with the girl.
“I can only assume you’re at war with these… Mutes you mentioned,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be more prudent for criminals to work together? Where did this animosity start?”
Jade shrugged. “Beats me. I won’t lie, nobody really knows who’s right or wrong. The original founders been feedin’ worms somewhere for a couple o’ decades, at least.”
“And what do your gangs do?” Kaelen asked, though he had a pretty good idea. Even back in his day, when gangs like these used to call themselves brotherhoods, the nature of crime was the same.
“Robberies, theft, blackmail, gambling,” she listed off every misdeed as if it was a simple list of foods she’d like to buy on the market. “We step on each other’s toes all the time. There ain’t even a proper turf map like in Silvervale. It all shifts like piss in a gutter.”
“If you’re all doing the same thing,” Kaelen said, choosing to ignore Jade’s last remark, “what’s the difference between you? What makes Good Knights… well, ?”
Jade thought for a moment. “Our initiation ritual is far nicer, for one. We got one of ‘em expensive knightly swords, an’ when we’re ready, we receive a cut from Sir Benji the Butcher himself.” She rolled up the sleeve on her left arm and proudly showed Kaelen a small mark on her shoulder. “Mutes, on th’other hand, I hear they beat their novices bloody. Ya make a single sound, they throw yer arse out.”
“I suppose that helps with keeping their dealings secret.” Kaelen wondered whether the Mutes would make for useful minions. After the failure that was The Wandering Tavern, he hoped he could find a more agreeable bunch of never-do-wells.
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“That’s their whole shtick, ya dig me? They even have a special gesture. Ya want to look like one of ‘em, you put a finger to your mouth when you greet another member.” Jade demonstrated the gesture to him. “Some crazies even chop off their own tongues to show their allegiance. Can ya imagine that?”
Kaelen was no stranger to his subjects competing in showing their absolute loyalty to him, back when he was the Scourge.
As soon as he was out of the picture, the empire appears to have crumbled. Perhaps there were a few things more useful than blind obedience, after all.
“And what if I wanted to look like one of your own?”
“Easy. You do it like this.” Jade held her two fists close together, knuckles aligned as if gripping an invisible hilt.
For the supposedly secret information, Jade was all too willing to part with it. Perhaps she’d been thirsting for a genuine conversation with a non-member. Or maybe she was just a natural blabbermouth.
Whatever the case, it wasn’t like Kaelen was about to stop her. Everything he was learning from her could be of use later. He started to second-guess whether he should get rid of the little wretch in the end, after all. The girl was talented, if lacking in manners.
“Continue,” he said after a long stretch of silence. “I want to know more about this city’s underbelly.”
Jade glanced back. “Oh, so someone’s been listenin’, after all. I thought ya were all about your books.”
“Books are only useful if you want to learn about the past. Of present and future, they can say but little.”
For some reason, that put a smile on Jade’s face. She turned again at the intersection, following the left tunnel, her boots splashing softly. A few steps in, Kaelen pointed at another symbol painted on the brick: a black tree, with roots twisted like claws.
“This one’s not yours either, I presume?”
“Nah. It’s them Blackwoods boys,” the girls said.
“And that one?” Kaelen asked, pointing at a half-visible symbol on the other side of the tunnel. It depicted a robed figure with two palms pressed against each other in a praying gesture.
“Disciples,” Jade said. “New kids. Don’t know much about ‘em, sorry.”
“Who do they oppose, the Good Knights or the Mutes?”
“They fight whoever’s nearby,” Jade said. “Sometimes us, sometimes th’ Mutes. The word is, their philosophy is simple: in a city where three gangs rule, always be the part o’ a two-gang union.”
“Three gangs?” Kaelen asked. “I thought you mentioned Blackwoods.”
“Ah, those?” she grimaced. “I don’t count them ‘cause they ain’t really local. Just an offshoot of the Blackwood family from Silvervale.”
That was Kaelen’s next destination, so he had to ask another question. “What do you mean by that? Are they organized crime?”
“They’re one o’ the Four Families, duh. Whatever happens in the dark o’ the night in the capital, one Family is there to profit from it.”
Kaelen absorbed that in silence for a moment. “You speak as though these families replace governance.”
Jade laughed quietly. “Replace? Nay. Fill the gaps, more like. I ain’t never been in Silvervale – or outside the Karsith Judicate, fer that matter – but I think it ain’t that much different from here. Shit ain’t turnin’ gold just ‘cause yer in the capital.”
The girl’s commentary, rude as it was, provided plenty of things for Kaelen to chew on.
“If the sewers are used by all the gangs in the city, I imagine there’s quite a lot of bloodshed.”
“Nay, not really. There’s a… what’s the word? Ain’t a truce, exactly. More like a shared understanding. You spill even a bit of blood down ‘ere, who knows what comes crawling outta dark.”
“There are ways to beat someone without spilling blood.”
The girl nodded. “Sure. I heard some use silk scarves to choke ya.” She stuck out her tongue and made a terrifying face. “Bleh! Just like that!”
They passed another marking, smaller this time, almost hidden. Jade sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose.
“Smell that?”
Kaelen did. “Another gas source?”
Jade pointed out cracks in the brick. “Sometimes the pipes burst,” she warned. “And sometimes they just dump stuff in ‘ere.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Defective potions,” she shrugged. “Failed alchemy whatchamacallit. Drugs. All sorts o’ fun things.”
Kaelen paused mid-step. “They pour defective potions into the water?”
Jade shrugged. “Where else? The river? Folks’d get upset.”
Kaelen pinched the bridge of his nose. Even his empire had safety standards.
He resumed walking as Jade continued speaking. “Saw a potion once that turned roaches blue, can ya believe it?” she said gleefully. “Another one made ‘em explode. And one time—”
“Please stop talking. And for the record, I’m not going to say ‘please’ next time.”
“Oooh, touchy subject. I thought ya was colder than that.” She kicked a loose pebble into the trickling water and smirked to herself. “What’s so surprising, anyway? People dump drugs and all other stuff in the sewers all the time, especially when they’re about to be caught.”
Kaelen pondered that for a moment. “What kind of drugs? Medicine?”
“No, you idjit!” Jade laughed. “I meant what I meant. Things that make you go coo-coo. drugs.”
“I’m not entirely familiar,” Kaelen was forced to admit.
“Well, there’s one called stiffleg, but some know it as brownleg. You can probably guess why.” The girl flashed her teeth at Kaelen.
“Causes diarrhea so bad your legs lock up,” she went on. “But cheap. Bloody cheap. Popular with idjits.”
“But not you?” Kaelen smirked.
“Users are losers,” she replied, not sensing his humor. “There’s ton of other shit, too. Shiver’s the other one. It makes you feel like yer freezing even when yer not. Smoking dream crystals, on the other hand, gives ya visions so pleasant, ya think they’re real. And then, blacktongue…” She hesitated. “That one’s nasty. I seen what it can do to ya.”
Kaelen frowned. “And the gangs tolerate this?”
Jade shrugged. “Depends who’s selling. The Good Knights don’t generally touch the stuff. Sir Benji would make you go through a trial by sword if you were caught selling that. The Mutes don’t care either way. Blackwoods profit from everythin’ that could be sold, those arse-lickers. And Disciples…” She paused. “Only gods know what Disciples truly think.”
Kaelen resumed walking.
Jade stopped at the next crossroads and studied the wall again, lantern light dancing over chalk lines and symbols.
“This way,” she said, turning left.
Kaelen followed, eyes lingering on the markings. “The point of the sword showed the other way.”
“It did,” she agreed without slowing down. “But the forefinger on the hand pointed ‘ere.”
Kaelen looked again. If Jade hadn’t told him, he would never spot the difference. He was a quick study, yet clearly even these low-lives knew how to deceive and obfuscate those not in the know.
He started thinking how absurd it was that this giant web of tunnels and sidepassages hid underneath the city. They’d been walking for hours and had yet to encounter another living being. Or any being, for that matter.
As luck would have it, they soon did.
Kaelen saw the shape first – a slumped outline half-submerged in shallow runoff where the tunnel widened. For a second, he thought it was just a pile of garbage. Then he saw feathers.
The girl froze.
“No,” she breathed. “Caleb!”
Kaelen looked closer. Whoever this Caleb used to be, he was a wingling – a member of an avian race.
The body lay twisted against the brick wall, wings bent at an unnatural angle. Caleb’s once bright-blue feathers were soaked dark and clumped together with grime and blood. One wing had been pinned awkwardly beneath him, the other half-spread. His beak was slightly hooked, with a crack running across it near the base. One golden eye stared sightlessly at the ceiling.
Jade moved before Kaelen could say anything. She dropped to her knees in the sludge and pushed Caleb’s shoulder gently.
“Cal?” Her voice came out thin. “Oi. Get up. It ain’t funny, you bloody sparrow!”
The dead wingling did not move, so Jade shook him again and again by the shoulder.
Kaelen stepped closer. “Enough, girl. He is dead,” he said quietly.
“Shut it,” Jade snapped.
She leaned closer, brushing grime from Caleb’s feathers. Under the muck, the copper sheen was still there. She let out a small, unsteady breath.
“He always said he’d leave this place,” she murmured. “Save up enough spheres, head to the capital. I convinced him to stay a while longer. Who would do this?”
The silence stretched. Kaelen contemplated giving the girl a slap to wake her up. Finally, Jade reached out and carefully plucked one loose feather from Caleb’s wing. It came free with almost no resistance.
She wiped it against her sleeve until some of the color returned. Then, without ceremony, she tucked it into her hair above her ear.
“There,” she said roughly. “Ya’ll be comin’ with me, ya idiot.”
She stood, swiping at her face as if irritated by dust. Kaelen rose as well.
“We should move,” he said.
She did not look at him. “Give me a minute.”
“A minute becomes five,” Kaelen replied. “Five becomes ten, ten becomes… Are you hearing what I’m saying?”
Jade was not. She stared absentmindedly at something in the corner and raised her hand. Her posture shifted, and Kaelen immediately quieted down.
“What is it?”
“Lissen.”
Kaelen cursed the girl’s strange dialect under his breath but nevertheless, he listened.
His [Perception] was much higher than Jade’s, but it seemed that she knew what to listen for. At first he heard nothing beyond the usual water flow, then something else. A faint rustling, a wet scrape. More than one.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of rats,” Kaelen snickered.
“Rats are fine. It’s bloaters you should watch out for.”
Kaelen frowned. “Explain.”
“Bloaters. Mutant rats. Ugly itchin’ rodents that grow big ‘cause of all the junk in th’ water, just like I told ya. Their skin’s all patchy an’ shit. They don’t run from humans like normal rats, either. They run you. The way I hear it, they been gettin’ more and more gutsy.”
“The day I’m afraid of a dozen rats is the day snow falls in the Bleeding Waste.”
Jade didn’t appear to be amused. “Try a thousand of ‘em at once. You wanna fight them? No problem, but ain’t on my account. I like Caleb, but I ain’t gonna join him any time soon. I’m booking it the first chance I get. Not gonna start ‘rasslin’ with no stinkin’ rats.”
As if summoned by her words, glowing eyes appeared down the tunnel – first two, then four, then eight. Bodies followed, slumping shapes with swollen bellies, long tails, and the ugliest sets of teeth Kaelen had seen outside of his Demon Guard. The fur of these creatures revealed pale flesh beneath, stretched tight. Some leaked fluids Kaelen didn’t dare to identify.
The pack crept forward. Jade backed up quickly. “That’s our bloody cue. We should run.”
Before Kaelen could respond, the rats lunged. He stepped aside from the first one, letting it crash into the wall. Another came in low, teeth bared. Instinctively, Kaelen raised his hand, preparing a magic spell.
[Thunder Burst]
The rat’s body exploded into pieces as the light-blue ray pierced it.
Kaelen blinked. “What—”
Another bloater charged. He swung his hand, summoning a different kind of attack – [Shadow Bolt]. The creature screeched and collapsed as its flesh detached from its bones.
Kaelen stared at his hand in surprise. His spells… had worked.
Gangs of New York. There is one namedrop here that is particularly on the nose, too. Can you find it?