The light of the moons was muted behind the thick curtain of clouds hanging over the city.
Alight the rooftops, Francis smirked. His quarry kept looking about, trying to locate the mysterious feeling of being watched. By now, they must be wondering if there really was someone watching them or if it was just the cold playing tricks on their mind.
He had been following them all night drifting from roof to roof in the close quarters of the city of Market. One wore plain clothes while the other wore a silver suit.
Francis watched as the two men walked down a small alley. The plainclothesman rapped his knuckles on a hidden side entrance to a rundown old building.
Inaudible words were exchanged, and the door was opened. The two men shared a knowing glance before they entered.
Even a few minutes could be the difference between finding the leaders of the weapons ring and another dead end. Making his way onto the roof without noise was easy, as was picking the lock on the stairwell door.
Francis opened the door and the rusty hinge squeaked. Pausing, he waited for a sign that he had been noticed.
When he did not receive any, Francis carefully crept down the stairs. By the look of them, one wrong move might make the whole staircase collapse.
Francis caught a drift of the conversation as he crept down the stairs.
The air smelled of ozone. The telltale sign of a lightning controller.
“Would anyone care to explain why I had to find out from my buyer that our shipment was five days late?”
What in the world... Francis knew that voice. It can’t be!
Moving into a position where he could observe the room, Francis saw four men. The two men he had been following had been joined by none other than Sikar
Sebastian and his loyal servant, Ned.
The plainclothesman shuffled uncomfortably. “Look here, sometimes shipments are late. There are a lot of moving parts to this operation. Keeping everything hush-hush has a cost, and sometimes that cost is time.”
Sikar Sebastian… in charge of the weapons ring selling to Animalians?! Creator, have mercy! Francis had obviously severely underestimated the Sikar. How had he managed to do this right under their noses while he was staying at the Ambassadorial Halls?
Sebastian chuckled dangerously. “Two things.”
He held up two fingers. “One, the last time I was late, I lost something very precious to me. Therefore, I am never late and my operation should never, ever be late. And two, if you are ever going to be late, if you even think you might be late, you will fully communicate the delay to me so I can tell the buyers.”
Sebastian took one of his gloves off and showed a healing wound. “They believed we had taken their shy'lls and betrayed them. I had to go to some extreme measures to prove my loyalty.”
Plainclothesman glanced at Sebastian’s hand. He was quick to reassure Sebastian. “Of course, this won’t happen again.”
Sebastian’s expression grew distant. “You are right, it will never happen again.”
Sebastian pulled apart his cane, unsheathing a hidden sword. He dispatched the man with a swift stab to the artery vein.
The man made a startled noise and fell over.
Sebastian’s gaze fell on the remaining man in the silver suit. “I hope for your sake that you have learned a valuable lesson here today.”
The man in the silver suit nodded, “Yes, sir. Never be late, and if I have a hunch I might, somehow be late, I let you know right away. Immediately.”
“Good. Come, Ned, we have other business to attend to.” Sebastian left the room with Ned following closely.
Francis had forgotten to breath. He had not expected such violence from Sikar Sebastian of all people. He almost felt sorry for the man in the silver suit. Before Jaden had hired him, Francis had to watch the execution of many talented men at the hands of his ruthless employers just like this. One mistake was all it took. But all of that was behind him now.
Sebastian had spoken of shipments, but shipments of what? It could be weapons, or it might just as well be food for soldiers. Francis couldn’t go around accusing Elementi highborns of treason while Jaden tried to broker an alliance with them. Not without definitive proof.
If Francis followed the man in the silver suit long enough, perhaps he would lead him back to the warehouse where they held the shipments.
The sound of the door was his cue to make his way to the roof so he wouldn’t lose sight of the man in the silver suit.
Francis only could keep up with the man’s purposeful stride by traveling through back streets and darkened alley ways.
The man entered a much nicer building after exchanging words with the doorman. This building had only one entrance, and he would not be getting past that imposing face.
Almost an hour later, Sikar Castel of Southern Elementi slammed the door open in a huff, startling Francis from his semi-prone position on the roof.
So Sikar Sebastian isn’t the only one mixed up with this weapons ring. But then again, mercenaries such as the man in the silver suit are known to work for more than one employer. Sebastian or Castel may have a perfectly legitimate reason for working with the man and not know about his work with the smuggling ring.
Francis weighed his options; the man in the silver suit was still inside, but Sikar Castel would be out of his sight in just a few minutes. He did not have any other spies in the area.
He hadn’t been in the room with Sikar Castel and the man in the silver suit, so he had no way of confirming Castel’s level of involvement, if any.
With time running out, Francis followed Sikar Castel while at the same time trying to keep an eye out for the man in the silver suit.
Sikar Castel untied his riding buffalo from a water trough and made for the Ambassadorial Halls.
Thank you, Creator! Francis had men at the Ambassadorial Halls who could watch Sikar Castel. Now I just have to get a message to them.
Then the man in the silver suit exited the building, and Francis fumbled a small box out of his pocket. It had several indentations inlaid with silver. Pressing several silver inlaid indentations in rapid succession, the box unfurled and revealed an automation of a small bird within.
Francis scribbled a message onto the scrap of paper provided. He keyed in the location of the Ambassadorial Halls into the bird and wound it up. The automaton flew into the air with a whir and sped off towards its destination.
Francis hurried back to chase the man in the silver suit in the hopes of finally figuring out this mystery once and for all.
###
The Mineralite city resembled a boiling cauldron as the black smog poured out from its high walls.
Francis approached a small side entrance to the city and secured his red air filtration mask.
The guard at the gate before him waited an unholy amount of time before speaking, “It is past curfew. I can’t let you in. King’s orders.”
Francis looked at the man incredulously. “What’s the point of the Scarlet Society sending you money if I have to argue with you to get inside every time?”
“You pay me for keeping your name off the entry records. Getting access after hours, well now, that’s a whole ‘nother subject.” The guard’s stoic facade broke for a second to let a hint of a smile through.
Francis sighed and fumbled through his bag until he had found a pouch of currency. That should satisfy his greed.
The guard pocketed the money and opened the small gate to reveal the bustling city. The light of the gas lamps reflected off a wet cobblestone road.
Francis joined the crowd, straining to catch a glimpse of the man in the silver suit, to no avail. Each passerby had their collars pulled up to hide their face, even though their breathing masks concealed most of their faces.
The sound of rhythmic marching ahead caused Francis to duck into an alleyway. He watched the procession of soldiers advance briskly towards a highborn house. The soldiers were either sent to protect the highborn or kill him. He had to shake the thought away. It isn’t my job, and I can’t save everyone.
Francis finally caught sight of his quarry. The man in the silver suit ducked into a dingy yellow carriage on the other side of the street.
He scaled the building nearest to him using the fire escape ladder to watch the taxi carriage as it lurched towards its destination.
Running across the rooftops to keep the carriage in sight, Francis almost tripped over the sleeping form of a small boy. He skidded to a stop, stumbling in the loose gravel covering the rooftop, and terrified the boy out of sleep.
Francis simply put a finger to his mask to hush the boy.
The little boy flashed him a charming grin. “Are you a part of the Scarlet Society? Are you here to save me?”
If he waited, he might lose sight of the vehicle, but on the other hand, here was a little boy who obviously had no one else in the world to care for him.
Francis knelt down at his level. He fished through his bag and offered him a card. “I am indeed a member of the Scarlet Society. Go to this man and tell him I sent you. He will take you to a safe place where you will be cared for.”
The boy held the card like it was made of gold.
Francis ruffled his hair. He took a few steps back from the edge of the roof and leaped onto the neighboring building.
Francis jumped six buildings, climbed down a ladder, and ran up an alleyway to catch up with his quarry. But he was too late; by the time he reached it, the taxi carriage was already carrying a new passenger to their destination.
The man in the silver suit was nowhere to be seen.
Well, that does it! What am I going to do now? The man in the silver suit could be anywhere. I can’t give up now. I have come so far.
Caught at a crossroads, Francis looked between the four buildings the man could have entered. He whispered a curse and picked one at random. The only thing he had to lose at this point was time, and stopping for even a second meant his quarry could get away for good.
The first door was locked, and the window showed a sleeping family.
The second door opened into a bakery.
The young man behind the counter was startled awake. “Can I help you?”
A second glance at his relatively nice clothes, and the man added, “Sir.”
“I’m looking for my friend. He wears a silver suit and was just here a few minutes ago.” Francis stepped inside and closed the door. His breathing mask obscured enough of his face and distorted his voice so that the young man wouldn’t be able to recognize who he was.
“You’re our first customer in a few hours.” The young man said sheepishly.
“Pity,” Francis grabbed a loaf of bread from the day old rack. “How much?”
“Just five notes.”
Francis handed the notes over and stashed the bread in his bag. “Thank you.”
As he exited the building, a scraping noise attracted his attention. A ratcatcher was busy at work, but probably not too busy to decline a few notes to point him in the right direction.
“Excuse me, you wouldn’t have happened to have been here when the taxi vehicle dropped off a man wearing a silver suit, would you?” Francis counted a few large notes in his hand.
The ratcatcher’s eyes darted to the sum. “Aw, yeah, I saw that man go into the East End Bar. Not the main entrance, though. I thought he might have been an owner or something, cause he went in through the kitchen entrance.”
Ha! Gotcha. Francis handed the currency to the poor man and headed for the East End Bar, entering the complex through the back. The kitchen staff looked up once and then proceeded to ignore him.
The back wall of the kitchen was in the process of being reconstructed. From the cut marks left on the surviving brick, it would seem that a mechanical monster had gotten loose again and destroyed that portion of the building.
Francis snuck through the opening.
“You know as well as I do that the Scarlet Society was onto this little operation.” That voice belonged to a fixer who Francis considered the slimmest bastard on the face of the planet: Mayer. He had sold his family into an indebted life in the mines by reporting their illicit activities as a cover for his own.
Francis felt his mouth go dry. His statement all but confirmed Tobias’ suspension that they had a spy in their midst.
Mayer continued, “It is a good thing that we moved our meeting spot closer to our suppliers. I always said the distance which your predecessor asked them to travel caused far too much suspicion.”
One of the men kicked at a small pile of rubble, which hit the loosely tacked up wallpaper that was the only thing hiding Francis from sight.
The man in the silver suit whined, “The least you could have done is found a place that was less open and could make a decent cup of tea.”
New footsteps shuffled into the room, followed by a few heavy thumps.
“The contents of this box are worth $15,000.” Mayers said after his assessment of its contents. There was a pause then Mayers proclaimed, “This one is worth $40,000 and the last box is worth $189,000.”
How could this smuggling ring afford such figures?! No estate in Elementi is showing that kind of income! Francis shook his head and focused again on the conversation.
“Your predecessor hired me to tell him how much these items are worth! If you don’t like it, too bad! You are not going to get anyone else to give you an unbiased opinion on these items.” Mayers said.
Francis tried to find a place from the framing of the walls where he could see the group gathered in the darkness. He had to stop every so often as not to alert the men that they were being watched.
“He is giving you the exact value and not a penny more.” The third man had a certain sharpness to his voice, not unlike the crack of a whip.
The man in the silver suit sighed. “Here is your payment.”
Francis looked over in time to catch a glance at the third man. Mason, the man who the king had banished to the mines to serve for the rest of his life as a mining supervisor. Hate is a powerful thing if you could use it to your advantage.
The oppressiveness of the shadows shook him out of his revere. Francis shuddered, accidentally knocking the slab of wood he was hiding behind onto the floor of the impromptu meeting place. The sound echoed across the room.
The miners ran out the hole in the wall before you could say Avari’s shadow. A few notes blew to the floor in their rush.
Francis activated his multi-colored stone as the fixer regained his balance. It was almost painful, the expansion of his senses. It was as if his mind had grown too big for his skull and expanded outwards until it reached outside of his body.
The man in the silver suit’s eyes flashed, “I can have no witnesses! A thousand note bonus should more than cover the job.”
“Consider it done, sir.” Mayer grinned and activated his orange powerstone. He hands blurred as he took swing after swing.
Francis blocked each successive blow, and as soon as there was an opening, he pushed the man backwards.
The man in the silver suit whispered, “Shh, you oaf, take him out quietly or do it outside. If the shop owner finds us here, we will have to find another place to conduct our business.”
“First, it is your business, and second, don’t call me an oaf.” Mayers pushed Francis through the rubble of the unfinished wall and into the street.
Francis stumbled, deactivating his stone to try to cure the ringing in his ears. He had barely recovered from the blow when Mayer swung at him once again. Francis’ training kicked in as he grabbed Mayer’s arm, using his momentum to throw him aside.
Mayers was back on his feet far too fast for his liking.
Francis found himself lying in the dirt. His breathing mask cracked from Mayer’s blows a second later. The cobblestone did nothing to cushion his fall.
Francis rolled over to a crouch, then he heard the click of a steam pistol. He reactivated his powerstone and slapped the gun away just as the man fired.
The dust and stone fragments cracked his breathing mask as the bullet exploded on the ground in front of his face. Francis twisted Mayer’s wrist the wrong way and pulled the weapon from his hand.
Mayer stumbled back holding his broken wrist.
Francis smiled at his handy work. He glanced both ways before he ducked down an alleyway and climbed on top of a dumpster, grabbed onto a gutter pipe, and pulled himself to the balcony on the second story.
Mayer ran down the alleyway and looked around. He whistled, and a group of men appeared. They spoke in low tones and spread out.
Just as Francis was about to breathe a sigh of relief, one of the men looked up to where he was hiding and started climbing towards him.
Francis swore heavily under his breath and took off his breathing mask. It was making it harder for him to breathe, and the cracked visor made it almost impossible to see now that it was fogged up with soot. He pulled out his lock picker from his bag and fixed it over the handle of the door. Two clicks sounded, and Francis opened the door.
A woman screamed as Francis ran through the apartment, and one of Mayer’s men followed after him.
Francis made it to the hallway and slammed the door on his follower, gaining a few precious seconds.
The stairs are at the far end. Francis made a run for the exit. He couldn’t waste time thinking. He would just have to hope the man didn’t have a weapon or worse, a speed stone.
Half-way down the first flight of stairs, Francis heard the door slam open above him.
The most humanoid robot that Francis had ever seen tore through the metal supports of the wall. Falling on its knees, the robot held its head as if it was in pain.
“It’s a mechanical monster!” Francis shouted and made his way back up the stairs. His chaser ran up the stairs as the robot regained its footing and began destroying everything within arms length.
Francis pounded on the doors, waking everyone from their sleep. “It’s a madman, we have to get out of here!”
His pursuer wasn’t so kind; he simply disappeared from where he came and left the commoners to sort it out.
A sleep-muddled group of commoners followed Francis to the roof. “You have to jump to the other side.”
He was met with looks of shock and apprehension. The building groaned and shifted as more of its supports were torn out. The people stumbled and cried out in fear.
Francis took a few steps back and launched himself onto the other side. He turned around and looked at the small crowd. “Come on, you have to jump!”
A little boy screwed up his courage and made the leap.
Francis caught the boy and motioned the rest to follow suit.
Another groan from the building was all the motivation the people needed. One by one, they made it over.
“You have to keep going, you have to get as far away from the monster as you can.”
The mechanical monster was followed by another. A madman on the street cried out, and the monsters blew all their rivets, crumbling to the ground.
Francis turned back to watch the building collapse on the mechanical monsters and the madman. The gathered group of people scattered in all directions.
He had lost his pursuers and saved an apartment full of innocent Mineralites. All in a night's work. Now to find some hard evidence.
###
Francis knocked on the door of the cottage. He felt bad for the woman who answered. He did not know that Mason had a wife. “Is the master of the house in?”
The woman rolled her eyes and said with a rough accent, “Yes, you can talk to him. I’ll get him.”
She wiped her hands on a towel and motioned him inside. “MASON! It is another one of your friends who keep visiting.”
“I’ve told you Anika, and I’ll tell you again, they pay for your nice cottage, so it would do you well to stop-” Mason stopped talking as soon as saw Francis’ face. “Oh.”
“I suppose you’ll want me to get the kettle on.” Anika glared at her husband.
Francis’ eyes followed the woman and lazily alighted on the man. He waited for the man to make the first move with all the patience of a predator stalking his prey.
“Are you going to kill me?” Mason’s voice cracked. His throat had gone dry.
“Not if you work for me.”
Mason nodded quickly.
“You won’t make as much as you made tonight, but you will keep your life for the time being, which I think is a fair trade.” He shrugged and added, “I cannot promise that the king will not have your head once the rest of your conspiracy is found out.”
All the fight died in Mason’s body, and he lost a few inches of height. He collapsed into a chair.
Francis watched as he grieved the mistake of letting greed get the best of him. “Let’s start with what you know about this weapons ring.”
“The man who first contacted me was Dale. He didn’t show up tonight, just his Elementi assistant, Cedric. Mayer acted like it was business as usual, but I should have known something was up.” Mason held his head in his hands.
Now Francis had a proper name for the man in the silver suit. “Do you know who Cedric works for?”
Mason shook his head vehemently. “No, sometimes I would hear Dale and Mayer talking about their contact being upset about the purchases they were making, but they never said his name.”
“What were you selling?” Francis prodded.
The hiss of an air gun and the shattering of glass pronounced Mason dead.
Francis swore. What do I have to bring back to Lord Jaden? A dead man and a bunch of conjecture that’s what.
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