The sun poked its rim over the horizon about the time the band, still pointing guns at each other, crossed the road (an actual road this time, not an alley) that bordered the Maze and so left that quarter behind, along with the troops scouring it and blocking it off. Luckily the sun was only just coming up and darkness still held sway; otherwise the soldiers on the road below may have seen them. As it was, they scampered across unnoticed, then continued on for another hour until, utterly spent, they stopped for another rest, a long one this time. Virine dispatched one of his male glabren to descend a fire escape, gather food, water and tents, then return, which the purple-eyed man did soon, his new backpack stuffed with needed items.
The members of the group gathered in a circle and ate, all of them ravenous save Layanna. Even the glabren ate, though they showed little pleasure in it but went through the motions with mechanical efficiency. The sun heaved itself higher, and soon Avery felt uncomfortably hot. At least he had some water in his body to sweat with now. He watched airships moving into position over the Maze, two zeppelins and a dozen dirigibles, all bearing the Lightning Crest.
“The Octunggen must have diverted them from the fighting,” Coleel said. “They really do want you folk.”
“I still don’t understand why,” Avery said softly to Layanna. “I mean, why alive.”
“I don’t either.”
“Listen to that,” Virine said.
Avery cocked his head. In the distance to the east, he could hear gunfire—lots of it, by the sound of it. And yes, there, the thud of artillery. A pall of smoke drifted up, then another.
“The rebels are attacking,” he said, wondering which faction was making the move, whether it was Vursk’s people or another group.
“Or are being attacked,” Virine said.
“That what you want?” Coleel said around a mouthful of sandwich. “For the fucking Octs to win?”
“They’re better clients than the old regime,” Virine said. “There were even rumors back before Octung took power that the President was going to have my glabren declared illegal.”
“That would be a shame,” Avery said. Even now he was all too conscious that one of the unholy things was pointing a gun at his head. While he and Coleel ate, the duty of keeping a gun on Virine had fallen to Layanna, and though she held the gun firmly on the man she looked like a person holding a dead rat doing it. One of the other glabren, the female, pointed a gun at her even as it ate with its free hand.
“How do you control them?” Layanna asked. “It’s a psychic link, isn’t it?”
Virine nodded. “I won’t go into the details, but I had to take something into myself that made me an anchor for those who imbibe the glabrus root. Once they do, I control them. Now I’m the stuff of myth and nightmare for the whole country.” He grinned, showing off his animal teeth, including the one functional fang. “I like to listen to the legends that have built up around me. To many, I’ve become the boogeyman.”
“And you aren’t?” Coleel said.
Virine nodded to the zeppelins and dirigibles. “They’re the boogeyman. I’m just a bloke trying to make a living. Anyway.” His voice became brusque. “How long do you expect to keep this up? Surely it’s time for us to call it quits. You lot go your way, I go mine. I’ll just have to kill Losgana some other time.”
“Not a chance,” Avery said. “You’d sell us out as soon as you got clear.”
“What makes you think I haven’t already?” When Avery said nothing, Virine exploded in laughter. “That’s right, you’d forgotten that I can be in many places at once, hadn’t you? Why, I could right this very moment be having my glabren speaking to the nearest Octunggen official.”
“No. You couldn’t,” Layanna said. “You wouldn’t dare, not while you’re still with us. You might be hit in the crossfire.”
Virine’s face ticked, and for the first time Avery received a glimpse of the darkness beneath his jovial exterior. “Don’t test me, woman! I am not some animal to live like this, to be treated in this manner.”
“I know all too well what you’re going through,” Coleel said. “I’ve been on the run, too, but for longer. And also because of these two, and whatever problem they represent.” His gaze took in Avery and Layanna. “I think it’s about time I knew just what that was.”
“No,” Layanna said. “It’s not.”
Avery yawned. “It’s time to rest.” Virine may have wanted to escape them, but he had prepared for not being able to do so, and in short order they had erected three tents. Avery, Layanna and Coleel would take shifts pointing guns at the gangster while he slept or amused himself; for a while he slipped inside his tent with the female glabren, a gun still trained on him all the while. He didn’t seem to mind but appeared to enjoy showing off his power over her. As a group, the glabren, having been “wound up” and not needing Virine’s constant input, kept their own weapons trained on Avery and the others, or at least at whichever was currently endangering their master, irrespective of whether Virine was awake, preoccupied or dozing.
Avery, being the most exhausted, took the first sleeping shift while Layanna kept Virine in her sights and Coleel slept in his own tent. Avery woke to find her next to him in the tent, just settling in.
“Is it my turn?”
She turned to face him. “No. Losg is just taking his shift, then you. Go back to sleep.”
They were very close. She looked very beautiful. He leaned forward to kiss her—
She laid a hand on his chest and, very lightly, pushed him back.
“No,” she said.
“No?”
“No.”
He sank back, defeated. “This is ridiculous,” he said.
“No.” She gestured around them, indicating their situation. “This is ridiculous.”
He let out a breath. “I just hope Janx and Hildra are alright. And Ani.”
“I’m sure she is.”
He could smell Layanna’s hair. Despite everything, it smelled clean and fresh. He longed to run his hands through it. Vaguely, he wondered where Sheridan was right then. Was she out there even then, maybe in one of those zeppelins, hunting them? For a moment he felt short of breath, but it passed.
“Who are the priests of the Restoration?” Layanna was saying. “What are they, and why are they after me?”
He had no answer. In time, he fell asleep again, then woke up to take his turn guarding Virine. The gangster had had some alchemical cigars on him, and he was smoking one and watching while his female glabren danced naked through the trees of the rooftop. A group of mutated monkey-things watched on, chittering amongst themselves.
Despite himself, Avery wanted to ask Virine if the woman was dancing under her own power or if the gangster was simply operating her like a puppeteer moves a marionette. Were those flourishes and spins, as she wove her way beneath the reeking, grasping tendrils of a slime-coated tree, her own, Virine’s, or somewhere in between? Avery bit the question back, as if in not knowing he were further separating himself from the barbaric manipulation.
It was a beautiful dance.
