Vision Quest (The Demon's Apprentice Book 3) (8 page)

“You’re in luck,” Brand said and pointed to the narrow end of the cavern. A light appeared in the tunnel that the tracks emerged from. “You’re just in time to see the Silver Phoenix arrive.” I looked to the tunnel, expecting to see and hear a train. A horn sounded that reminded me more of a semi than a locomotive, sending a wall of sound ahead of it that seemed to say in no uncertain term that something
big
was coming. What emerged from the tunnel wasn’t so much a train as a jet on rails. The first car, what I figured
had
to be the locomotive, was a silver cylinder that tapered down at the front. The whole front end was dominated by a huge air intake for a giant turbine engine. Unlike normal trains, this one had a glassed in cockpit at the front that reminded me more of Dr. C’s pictures of the old B-29 bombers, basically a smooth surface with the windscreens set flush to the metal. This one curved up from the front and ran back in a widening rectangle. A single line of glass panes ran back from the cockpit for the length of the engine. I caught all of that in a single instant as it rocketed out of the tunnel, pulling shiny steel cars with windows that ran along the sides and tops of each car. Another row of windows ran along the sides of the car, and I noticed that the doors sat high and in the middle. Then the Phoenix came to a stop. For a moment, I wondered how people were supposed to get off the train. My question was answered as the entire trained dropped three feet in a smooth descent. Beside me, Junkyard let out a short bark.

“Yeah, that
is
cool, buddy,” I said.

“What’s that over there?” Shade asked, pointing to a series of flickering lights that ran along one edge of the cavern.

“Degenerates and scum,” Gage said. “Nothing more.”

“Hate to rain on your picnic, lad,” Brand said, “but that’s just some poor folk. Can’t afford to buy a place in town, but they’re not well suited to living on the cowan side of the Veil. Them as don’t have natural Glamoury, like the fae and such, or honest folk fallen on hard times. Seems there’s more and more of that nowadays, bad as things are.”

“That’s utter nonsense,” Gage said. “My family’s business is doing better than ever. They’re just too lazy to work hard enough to make a decent life for themselves. I’m interested in the new construction over on that far wall, though.”

“That’d be a bunch of lazy degenerates building their own homes out of the cavern wall,” Brand said with a straight face. “Bought their own tools, and got licensed proper. Slow going that. Doing most of it by hand.” Gage turned to glare down at the rest of the small city below us.

“Why does it look like an Army base?” Shade asked.

“Because it was,” Brand said with a  laugh that seemed to come from somewhere south of his knees. “Did you ever hear of Project Bright Halo?”

“Oh!” Shade said with a smile. “We talked about that in American History one day when we had a substitute teacher. It was one of the super-secret projects during the Cold War, some kind of bunker to keep the government going if the Russians ever attacked us.”

“Exactly so,” Brand said. “The Underground used to just be the far chamber, then the cowan government came down, built their little town, and left. The Conclave made sure they forgot where the put it a few months later.”

“How did you keep them from discovering you?” I asked. “Warding runes?”

“Damn big ones,” Brand said. He pointed toward a smooth spot halfway up the opening in the other wall. “See there, that bare patch? That is where we had to chisel the rock away to dispel the runes.” By that point, we were almost level with the top of the tallest buildings. Below us I could see the slightly elevated platform where, in theory, we would be stopping. A small kiosk was set next to it, with a small light glowing atop it. Brand moved the handle forward, and our descent slowed, then we came to a stop as the car came level with the platform.

“Welcome to the Underground,” the Dwarf said as he pulled the inner door open. The outer door slid to the side on its own, and we stepped out onto the platform.

“Great,” Shade muttered. “Now what?”

“An excellent question,” Gage said. “Surely you know where Bjernings is, yes?” He sounded far too satisfied with himself to me, and I resisted the urge to smack him.

“Of course I do,” I said as I headed for the board marked “Information” near the edge of the platform. “After all, it’s my first time here. I instantly know where everything is.”

“The Franklin Academy does not accept excuses for ignorance,” he said. The cadence of his voice was measured and precise, like something that had been drilled into him. “Your attitude is as much part of my evaluation as your…ignorance…” he trailed off as I pulled a map from one of the wooden holders.

“I wasn’t being
that
sarcastic,” I said as I unfolded the map. “Now I know where everything is.”

“Should I sing the map song?” Shade asked.

“The what?” I asked.

“From the kids’ show,” she explained.

“I think I know that one,” I said.

“What idiot wouldn’t get that reference?” Gage asked. I didn’t bother to answer him as I headed toward the narrowed end of the first chamber. According to the map, Bjerning Depository was in the next chamber and on the left. We headed for the edge of the open area furthest from the tracks. That put us on Scriveners’ Way, which looked like it was home to more than scribes. Granted, it had its share of book shops and stationery stores, but in a magickal town, quills and inks were specific enough to warrant separate specialty shops as well. Helvig’s Elder Tongues specialized in scribing and interpreting runic alphabets according to its sign, while Set In Stone seemed to be devoted the secrets of Babylonian and Persian cuneiform.

A mix of beings was on the street with us, some covered in baggy clothes, others barely covered at all. On this side of the Veil, fairies and pixies didn’t seem to bother to conceal themselves. A couple of sprites flew past as well, their dragonfly wings almost transparent. Fairies jeered at the larger fae as they passed by, but the sprites just kept their heads forward and flew on.

“What’s up with that?” Shade asked. “Those bigger ones looked like they could boot the fairies into next week.”

“A few decades ago, the sprites joined the Unseiligh Court in supporting Heidler’s Damonkrieg, what the cowan know as the Second World War,” Gage said. “After the war, they offered their freedom as a people as recompense for their crimes.”

“So they’re…”

“Slaves,” I said. “To pretty much anyone who wants them. If they’re not bound to someone, they have to go
find
someone to own them.”

“That’s bullshit,” she said. I nodded.

“The word in the Nine Hells was that they just accepted Unsealigh protection,” I added. “And that the dark fae offered them up as a scapegoat.”

“A likely enough story,” Gage sneered. “They’re bound to it until the war passes from living memory, either way.”

“That’s at least another decade or so,” Shade said, her voice rising. “And what if Chance is right? What if they were tricked or something?” Gage stopped and looked at her with narrowed eyes.

“That’s not for the likes of you to question,” he said with a hard tone. “The Council doesn’t allow that kind of mistake to be made.” He turned and stalked off a few paces, then gestured to me to join him. I put a hand on Shade’s arm and shook my head before I crossed the distance to him.

“Keep your woman in line, plebe,” he said once I got close. “I won’t warn you again.”

“Keep
her
in…,” I sputtered. “She’s
well
within her rights to rip your throat out right now. You don’t dress down an alpha unless you’ve
earned
that privilege. And even then, you never do it in public.”

“I don’t care if she’s the damn queen of all werewolves,” he hissed at me. “She will keep a civil tone in my presence, or in the presence of any mage. And she will
not
question the wisdom of the Council in public.”

“You want to keep her in line?” I asked.  “You do it yourself. And then you go explain to the Council why you’ve got two pissed off packs at their door howling for your blood. Assuming you survive pissing her off in the first place.”

“I would have nothing to fear,” he said. I laughed in his face.

“I’ve got news for you, Winnie,” I said with a tight grin. “The Conclave isn’t as all powerful as they want you to think. How else do you think a demon was able to keep me as a slave for eight years?”

“Everyone knows you went willingly,” he said.

I shoved him hard enough to put him on his ass, then went and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

“Go back,” I said, my voice harsh in my own throat. He looked up at me with wide eyes as he tried to scramble away from me. “Go get a hotel room and don’t come anywhere near me until you read my goddamn file.”

“You know Master Draeden will automatically put you in remedial courses if I do that,” he said.

“Then don’t speak,” I said. “Don’t talk to me, about me, or near me. Just observe, and do it from as far away as you can.”

“Master Draeden will hear about this,” he said.

“You can bet on it.” I took a lot more satisfaction in the wide eyed expression he gave me than I should have. Still, I’m not a complete asshole. Maybe ninety five percent there, but not so far that I was beyond pulling him to his feet. Besides, we were getting a little more attention than I would have liked. People were crowding at windows and doors of the nearby Quonset huts, and over the heads of the crowd, I could see a couple of silver ankh-topped
paramiir
staves bobbing our way. I gave Gage a sharp look as the Sentinels showed up. Naturally, they went to his side first, one facing him, the other keeping his eyes on Shade and me. Both of them wore the blue cloaks of their office, but were dressed in slacks and white button down shirts under that. Both had haircuts that would have cost them more than my mom made in a week, the one talking to Gage dark haired with a narrow face, and the one keeping an eye on me with brown locks and a jaw you could chisel granite from. They carried paintball guns in holsters that sat high on their right hip, with a black nylon pouch on the opposite side for other tools. Junkyard pressed against me as Shade took my hand.

“He’s telling them it was nothing, no big deal,” Shade whispered from beside me. I looked over at him to see him shaking his head and smiling. “No details, just a…slight misunderstanding. Heading to Bjernings to open an account…little bastard’s vouching for us.” After a moment, the Sentinel talking to Gage nodded to his partner, who came our way.

“What’s your business in the Underground today, Fortunato?” he demanded, his square chin thrust out at me like a weapon.

“I’m opening an account at Bjerning’s Depository,” I said with a gesture toward the satchel. He held out his hand, and I handed the leather case over. When he opened the flap and looked inside, his eyes went wide for a moment and he looked at me.

“Where did you get all of this?” he asked.

“I have an account with Biladon Garnet, in the Hive. There’s a receipt for what’s in there minus about a hundred and fifty trade ounces or so that he had on hand.” I let out a sigh as he took a couple of steps away and summoned his partner over. Of course it looked odd for a sixteen year old kid to have bearer chits for more than six thousand trade credits on him. Even in the Underground, there were folks who didn’t see that much wealth in a life time. Add in a guy with my reputation, and things went from a little odd to downright shady looking. Having a receipt for the whole thing seemed to be helping about as much as a knife at a gunfight. It took another ten minutes before they decided I might not have just robbed someone. The other Sentinel took the satchel from his partner and came over to me. His expression was hard to read behind his mirrored sunglasses.

“This transaction took place in October,” he said. “Why did you wait eight months to open an account?”

“It’s been a busy year,” I said. His eyes narrowed at that. Anyone who knew anything about me knew I’d done quite a lot since I’d escaped from Dulka. In addition to killing a rogue werewolf and vampire with aspirations to demonhood, I’d also found the Maxilla Asini, a boss level weapon that could kill demons. Plus, I’d earned a reputation as the go-to guy for minor magickal problems among the fringes of cowan society that was aware of the Veil. They might not know what went on behind it, but they knew things existed on the other side, usually because they were the innocent bystanders who caught a spell from a dabbler or a stray hex. Most of the Sentinels didn’t like me because of that, even though they usually turned down cowans who asked them for help.

“I’m giving you an hour,” he said as he pressed the satchel against my chest. “After that, I expect you to be a long way from here.” He shoved me back a step as he finished. I took a slow breath to calm myself. As much as I wanted to smart off to him, I’d seen Sentinels lay waste to an army of vampires all too recently, and I really didn’t want to be on the wrong side of a
paramiir
in any of its three forms. I nodded instead and took a step back. Shade’s mouth was a tight line and her eyes were a dark green as she glared at the Sentinels. But she’d seen them fight, too, so she kept her distance and her silence. Gage came our way, but I turned my back on him and headed toward the narrowed end of the cave.