by Raven Blackmane
Desperate, panicked footsteps broke the silence of the Street. A hunched and withered figure raced on all fours through the alleys and access tunnels. Its clawed hands and feet scrabbled for traction as it sprinted across the pools of light made by the streetlamps overhead, seeking refuge in the darkness between them. Its body seemed to be made of smoke and shadows as well as flesh, and it blended easily into the gloom, but the creature appeared to take no solace in this. It could hear the footsteps of its pursuers behind it. It didn't dare slow down.
The creature passed into a long tunnel, one that led it deep into the heart of a massive skyscraper. Cross-corridors intersected the tunnel at regular intervals, creating a labyrinth that it hoped would confuse its pursuers. The creature darted right at the first intersection, then left, then right again. It paused in a pool of shadow and listened, trying not to pant so that its batlike ears could more easily hear the sounds of its enemies.
At last it let out a deep sigh. The footsteps seemed to have faded. It was safe.
The creature continued down the tunnel, emerging from the building into a narrow alleyway.
A blast of wind came from nowhere and slammed it up against the wall of the building.
The creature writhed and shrieked in terror. It turned its huge black eyes toward the mouth of the alley, where a tall man dressed in white was approaching with a naked sword in his hand. His hard, chiseled face was set in a cold expression, and his eyes glowed blue-white like two points of flame. The sword in his hand was a meter long and curved back and forth along its length, like a serpent's tail. The Elven sigils on the blade glowed an angry red, and the silvery-white metal hummed softly as the man pointed the blade at the creature's chest.
"No, please," the creature whined, shielding its eyes from the terrible weapon. "Leave us alone! We didn't do anything wrong!"
"Willem and Marian Fowler would disagree with that statement," the man said coldly. "Where is the child?"
"We doesn't know! We didn't take it!"
The man pressed the tip of the sword against the creature's throat. "Lying to me is a bad way to start this, daedra. You are the one they call Skarig, are you not?"
The daedra nodded weakly. "Yes. We is called Skarig. But we didn't hurt the human child! Starson must believe us!"
The man called Starson narrowed his eyes. "You're a born con artist, Skarig. We have sixteen accounts of you selling glamoured garbage to pawn shops under the pretense of being antiques. I don't see why I should be compelled to believe anything you say."
Skarig peeked up from behind its hands. "Then why does Starson wish to ask us?"
The man lowered his sword a few centimeters and let out an exasperated sigh. "Because we need to get the girl back, and you're the only one who knows what happened to her." He paused, and the light in his eyes dimmed, until they resembled an ordinary human's. "Tell me what you saw."
Skarig sat up and tucked its scaly legs close to its chest. "Girl was playing with ball. She chased it into our alley. We likes the girl. She has pretty black hair and soft, brown skin. Not ugly like us. But she is kind to us." Skarig grinned, showing a nightmare collection of shark-like teeth. "We plays with her. Shows her secret places, special places."
Starson glared at the daedra. "What kinds of 'special' places?"
The daedra gestured nervously. "Special places. Little holes for hiding things. A quiet place where cat has her kittens. Places to go and see people in their houses and not be seen."
"If this girl was such a good friend to you, why isn't she still with you?"
Skarig looked down at the ground. "Men show up," it said. "Bad men. Big, scary men on big, nasty swoops. We gets scared and run away, but girl does not run fast. She goes in building to hide while we runs away."
The man looked closely at Skarig a moment longer. Then he put the sword away, sliding it into a scabbard over his shoulder.
"Show me where she went," he said.
Janus Starson followed Skarig down the street, keeping a spell close at his fingertips in case the daedra decided to run for it. In truth, he was somewhat relieved after hearing Skarig's side of the story; the little wretch was mischievous and cunning, but their file on him didn't suggest the sort of creature that would resort to kidnapping and murder. Leading a child off to be a playmate and then abandoning her in a moment of danger was much more in keeping with what they knew of Skarig's personality.
Even so, if they couldn't recover the child, he would take pleasure in banishing Skarig to the Dreamlands personally.
His communicator chirped in his ear, and he tapped it with a finger. "This is Starson. Go."
"Hey, boss, where are you? We lost track of Skarig under Halvord Tower."
"I have him," Janus said. "I'm checking out his story right now. Contact the MCPD and ask them to pull up any reports on gang-related violence in Precinct 13 within the last twelve hours."
"Got it. You need any backup?"
"Negative, not at the moment. I'll call if I need anything."
"Copy that. Good luck, boss."
The building to which Skarig led him was an apartment complex built on the eastern face of Hughes Tower, near the north end of Precinct 13. The apartments were dressed in simple brown stone, with ornamental columns flanking the doors and carved lintels above the small, rectangular windows. They stretched at least thirty storeys up the side of the 'scraper, well past the first layer of skyways overhead. The planters in front of the building housed a variety of shade-tolerant plants, all of which appeared healthy and well-tended. It was an old-fashioned building, hearkening back to designs from a hundred years ago, but everything seemed to be in surprisingly good repair.
Skarig pointed to a set of stairs leading up to a pair of heavy wooden doors, which obviously marked the main entrance to the complex at Street level. "The girl goes in there to hide," he said.
"Did the men on the swoops see where she went?"
"We doesn't know. We was being chased."
Janus nodded and tapped his communicator again. "Candace, I need you to run an address for me." He read off the number above the door of the building.
"The Serenity Arms apartment complex," Candace said, a minute later. "The proprietress is named Isri Fallon."
Janus frowned. "Candace, please confirm. Did you say Isri Fallon?"
"Yeah, why?"
He grimaced. "We have a file on her. She's a succubus."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Shit," Candace said.
"Language, Candace."
"Sorry, boss. Do you want that backup now?"
"Get them ready, but don't send them in. Wait for my signal." He smiled grimly and adjusted the collar of his uniform. "There's no reason we can't be civil about this."
The door was locked and warded for the night, so Janus pushed the intercom button for the front desk.
"Serenity Arms. Who is it?"
"This is Agent Janus Starson of the Lothanasi Order. May I come in?"
Janus thought he heard the woman mutter a curse under her breath. "What do you want, Lightbringer?" the voice asked.
"I need to speak with Ms. Isri Fallon," Janus said. "I'm investigating a missing persons case, and I believe she may have information that could help us. May I please come in?"
There was a long pause. Finally the buzzer sounded and the door bolt disengaged. Janus motioned for Skarig to remain outside, then opened the door and entered.
The lobby and lounge areas maintained the retro feel of building. Cherry-wood wainscoting and rich, red-and-gold wallpaper complemented the wooden floors and imitation Kelewair rugs. Large fans hung from the coffered ceilings with lights suspended beneath them, and the furniture was upholstered in deep red fabric of obvious quality. Mirrors, paintings and old photographs hung on the walls in elaborate frames with gold inlay. Bookshelves in the lounge stretched from floor to ceiling, all of them filled with titles that must have spanned at least two hundred years of history. Beyond the lobby, a broad staircase of polished wood swept up to the second level, the steps covered in red carpet. A large L-shaped counter served as the front desk, and it wasn't even shielded with bulletproof glass.
Janus didn't know what to think. He couldn't believe that a place like this had survived for this long at Street level without falling into disrepair or being destroyed in a bout of gang violence. Yet his aura sight told him that this was not a glamour; everything here was just what it appeared to be.
This, combined with the knowledge that the owner was a succubus, made him instantly suspicious.
A young woman stood behind the front desk, watching him with an expression of open hostility. Her honey-blonde hair, pale skin and blue eyes made a marked contrast to her body-hugging red and gold gown, which was obviously Hanese in origin. She had pulled her hair back into a bun that was held in place by a pair of long needles, which added even further to the eastern look. The gown was modest enough, but it had a long slit up one side that exposed a long, shapely leg. Right now she had that leg cocked out to the side and her hands on her waist in a confrontational posture. She looked human enough to mortal eyes, but the soft humming of his sword in its scabbard told Janus a different story.
He bowed to her in greeting. "Ms Fallon?"
"She'll be down in a minute," the girl said, still glaring at him. "I'd tell you to make yourself comfortable, but then I'd have to clean the furniture after you leave."
Janus just gave her a faint smile. "That's quite all right, Miss — Silvia," he said, glancing down at her name tag. "I'm happy to stand."
Sylvia crossed her arms and ran her eyes up and down the length of his body, taking in the spellcrafted white fabric of his combat fatigues. The uniform was designed to repel any stain or blemish, as well as a good number of more dangerous things. The twin cross of the Lothanasi was embroidered in gold on the front pocket and on the sides of the sleeves. This was the only obvious mark of Janus's authority, but it was enough.
"You've got a lot of nerve coming in here in full battle gear," she said. "You think you can just barge in and show that sword around whenever you feel like it? We're law-abiding citizens! We've got rights!"
Janus drifted over to one of the bookshelves and scanned the titles in mild interest. "Some of your tenants might well be citizens," he said. "And as such they certainly would have rights. But even if that were true, it remains that you, Miss Sylvia, are a succubus. You are a resident, not a citizen, and you have privileges, not rights. And the difference between rights and privileges is that privileges can be revoked."
"We haven't done anything wrong," Sylvia said fiercely.
Janus smiled. "You'd be amazed how often I hear that. It always amuses me to hear a daedra's definitions of the ideas of right and wrong. I once met a wraith who believed that it was right for him to kill the homeless when they became sick. He told me that he was just relieving them from their suffering." He turned around and looked at her. "So, naturally, I returned the favor by relieving him from his."
Sylvia's eyes burned orange-red, like two hot embers. In the space of a breath, the shadows in the room seemed to gather themselves around her. A scent like incense and wood smoke filled the air as the succubus summoned up her aura. Janus stayed where he was, but he shifted his footing to a more combat-ready posture.
"Wraiths are scum," Sylvia hissed. "They kill people for pleasure."
"Whereas you kill people with pleasure," Janus said.
"We don't kill anyone here, you self-righteous bastard! We feed, yes, but not without consent, and we damned well don't hurt anybody! How dare you compare us to those — those murderers?" She stepped forward and thrust out her chest at him. "If you ask me, I think you're just jealous because there isn't a suckie in town who would deign to sleep with you!"
"Sylvia?" A woman's voice came from the top of the stairs. She sounded calm and composed, but her voice also commanded instant attention. "That will be enough."
Sylvia lowered her head and let the power drain out of her aura. The fire died down behind her eyes, and the lighting returned to normal. "Yes, Ms Fallon," she said quietly.
Janus returned to the lobby and looked up at Isri Fallon as she descended the staircase. She was darker in complexion than Sylvia, with glossy black hair, bronze skin, and almond-shaped eyes of a rich reddish brown. She looked like she might have a mixture of Hanese and Sonngefilder ancestry — though, of course, that was all completely arbitrary. As a succubus, she could look like whatever she wished. Unlike most succubae, though, Ms Fallon did not present an image of wanton sexuality. She appeared to be in her late forties; while she was beautiful, it was a mature beauty, with a sense of grace and elegance that most younger women lacked. Her gown was similar to Sylvia's, though without the daring slash up the side. It clung to the curves of her body, which was neither fat nor skinny, but it exposed very little of her skin below the neck. She was barefoot, and Janus estimated that she was nearly twenty centimeters shorter than he, but she did not seem intimidated in the slightest as she came down to face him.
She bowed to him in greeting. "Agent Starson of the Lothanasi," she said gravely. "I welcome you as a guest within my home."
Janus returned the bow. "Ms Fallon," he said. "I thank you for your hospitality, and give my word that I shall comport myself as a guest."
Ms Fallon smiled at him. "You see, Sylvia? Agent Starson can be courteous when courtesy is shown to him."
Sylvia did not raise her eyes. "As you say, Mistress."
The older woman's eyes shifted back to Janus. "Agent Starson, it is clear that you have come to us on a matter of great urgency. Perhaps you would care to join me in my drawing room so we might discuss it?"
Janus nodded once. "Certainly. Lead the way, Ms Fallon."
The drawing room was on the twenty-first floor of the apartment complex, which was also the floor that had access to the first skyway. Ms Fallon had decorated it along much the same lines as the lounge downstairs, with hundreds of books and design cues from the late 19th century. In this inner sanctum, though, the succubus had allowed a little of her sexual nature to express itself. Tasteful nudes from a dozen cultures took the place of the portraits and still-life paintings Janus had seen downstairs. Soft, thick rugs covered the floors, and the overstuffed couches looked comfortable and inviting. The scent of jasmine hung faintly in the air.
"Please, have a seat," she said as they entered. "Would you like tea, Agent Starson?"
Janus hesitated. If the missing girl wasn't here, every moment he delayed would reduce the likelihood of finding her. On the other hand, if Skarig's information was correct, he couldn't afford to antagonize Isri Fallon by spurning her hospitality. She might be the only one who could tell him what had happened.
"I'd be delighted, thank you," he said at last, taking a seat on the couch. It was as soft and comfortable as it looked.
Ms Fallon had either been expecting guests or had already been entertaining them earlier in the evening, because she had an insulated pot of tea already waiting. She brought the tea service on a silver platter and set it down on the low coffee table in front of him, then poured two small cups for Janus and herself. It was oolong tea, delicate and fragrant. Janus bypassed the milk and sugar and drank it straight. He wasn't worried about poison, or enchantments; Ms Fallon had given him her offer of hospitality, and that still counted for a great deal among creatures as old as she.
"How do you like it?" Ms Fallon asked, sitting down next to him.
"Excellent," Janus said truthfully.
"I'm glad to hear it." She took a sip of her own, then set it down and clasped her hands in front of her. "Now, then. How can I assist the Lightbringers, Agent Starson?"
Janus took another drink before replying. "Earlier this evening a child was reported missing. Seven year old Ashley Fowler." He pulled a picture out of his front pocket and showed it to her. "She's a Street-level resident of Precinct 14. We tracked her to a tokagi daedra named Skarig who claims that he was playing with her, until a swoop gang showed up and chased him off. He says that he last saw the child entering your building."
"Ahh," Ms Fallon said. She raised her eyebrows. "I was not aware that the Lothanasi involved themselves in retrieving lost children. I would have thought that would be a matter for local law enforcement."
"Normally, yes," Janus agreed. "But with the evidence showing a daedra's involvement, it was decided that this fell within our jurisdiction."
"I see." Ms Fallon rose from her seat and walked over to the opposite side of the room. She picked up a book that had been sitting on an end table, and cradled it in her hands as she leaned back against the bookshelf. "By whom?" she asked.
"I'm sorry?"
"By whom was it decided that this matter fell within your jurisdiction? You must admit, the ties to otherworldly activity are rather tenuous. A tokagi is hardly a likely candidate for a murder suspect. So who made the decision that this was beyond the capabilities of the mortal police?"
Janus frowned. "If the local field commander believes that there is credible evidence of preternatural involvement, he can declare operational authority over the case immediately. It is subject to review by the board of directors, of course, but in an emergency the field commander's judgment is enough."
"By which you mean your judgment is enough," Ms Fallon said pointedly. "You received word of the case, perhaps heard eyewitnesses report seeing a demon in the area, and then took over the investigation — because, after all, how can a missing child be anything but an emergency?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Is anything that I have just said inaccurate, Agent Starson?"
Janus looked at her a long moment. "If I may, Ms Fallon, I am not certain I understand the point of contention. Are you saying that you believe that a mortal child in danger is not an emergency?"
Ms Fallon snorted and shook her head. "Of course not. I'm afraid you are missing the point." She opened the book to a marked passage and began to read. " 'Be wary of those who seek power, for power once given can rarely be taken back. The natural tendency of power is to accumulate, to gather itself in one pair of hands, and those who seek power are nearly always the least qualified to wield it responsibly. And most dangerous of all are those who seek power for the good of others; for by this, they mean the good they would choose, and they will use their power to impose this vision on others … until it suffocates them.' " She looked up at Janus. "Sound familiar?"
"Not especially."
"It should. Those words were written by Merai hin'Dana, the Starchild." She held up the book and showed it to Janus; it was a copy of the Codex of Merai. "She is your ancestor; that is what the Starson name implies, is it not?"
Janus nodded stiffly.
"Perhaps you should spend more time in her company, then." She set the book back on the end table and walked to the back door of the drawing room. "Come here, please."
Janus did so, and she opened the door to let him see inside. The room beyond was the bedroom of the master suite, with plush carpets and a large four-poster bed. Lying on the bed, curled up and fast asleep, was a little girl in a borrowed silk kimono.
Ms Fallon shut the door again quietly and turned to face him, meeting his gaze steadily. "She came to us cold, frightened, and filthy," she said. "We've been taking care of her ever since. The poor girl doesn't know her own phone number and can't remember where she lives, so we planned to make some calls in the morning."
Janus looked at her, saw the truth in her eyes, and nodded. "Very well. Now that you know who she is, I'll be happy to take her back—"
"No."
He stared at her, surprised by the sudden anger in her voice. His eyes narrowed. "Ms Fallon, her parents are terrified. They won't be sleeping tonight. If you don't turn her over to my custody, it could be considered grounds for a kidnapping charge."
The succubus did not budge. "You and your kind have taken too much authority already, Agent Starson. You seized jurisdiction on this case on the flimsiest of pretenses. Now you expect me to reward that behavior by letting you take the credit for her safe return? No."
She crossed her arms. "You have far too much power and far too little accountability. If you can't even recognize the words of your great patron when they're spoken to you, then it's obvious that you've forgotten why you were given that power in the first place. I won't help you compound that error by doing anything to endear you to the people whose lives you are so eager to control."
"We are trying to protect people—"
"And what safer place is there than a cage?" She raised her chin and looked at him defiantly. "The child will be returned to her family through the proper authorities. End of discussion."
Janus's felt the fire creep back into his eyes. "And when do you propose to do that, daedra? When will the family have suffered enough grief and uncertainty and terror to satisfy your need for chaos?"
"How about now?"
Janus turned around to see the silhouetted figure of a woman standing in the doorway. As she stepped into the room, he took in her golden skin, auburn hair, green eyes, and athletic frame. She glared at him as she shut the door behind her.
"Lieutenant Kitaen," Janus said, frowning. "You're out of your jurisdiction."
"That makes two of us," Kitaen said, putting her hands on her hips. "But unlike you, I live here." She looked over at the succubus. "Sorry to barge in, Ms Fallon, but Sylvia told me there might be trouble. Looks like she was right."
"I am only trying to return this child to her family," Janus insisted. "Your landlady has decided to make her a pawn for some kind of political statement."
"No need to rehash, Janus. I've been listening for a while. Look, missing persons cases are handled by the Special Investigations Division; they're independent of the whole precinct structure. Give me the parents' contact information and I'll make sure they're notified immediately. They can come to her, or we'll bring her to them, whatever they want." She extended a hand to him. "If it's really not about who gets the credit, it shouldn't matter to you, right?"
He looked at her, at Ms Fallon, and at the door to the bedroom where the child slept. Finally, grudgingly, he pulled out the Fowlers' contact information and handed it to Kitaen.
"Thank you." She glanced over at Ms Fallon again. "Let her sleep for now, until we find out how the parents want to deal with this."
"Of course," Ms Fallon said, nodding. "Thank you, Kate."
"No problem." She looked at Janus. "Talk to you outside for a minute?"
Janus followed her. When they had shut the doors to the drawing room behind them, he said, "I must admit I'm surprised, Lieutenant. I wouldn't have expected you to live in an apartment run by succubae." He smiled coldly. "But then, I expect Ms Fallon might be willing to be somewhat flexible in how she collects payment…"
"Shut the hell up, Janus. Ms Fallon has done more to clean up her corner of the Street than any of your kind ever did. There's a reason those swoopies didn't follow Ashley inside here."
Janus raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying she commits violence against mortals, as well? You're making her look better by the minute."
Kitaen put a finger in the middle of his chest. "Don't. You. Dare."
Janus smiled blandly. "Relax, Lieutenant. I have no interest in Ms Fallon or any of her little coterie. I was here to do a job, nothing more. I have no interest in the politics of the situation. Now that the matter is in hand, I shall be on my way."
The illusionist looked into his eyes for a long moment, and he watched the anger drain out of them. At last she turned away, shaking her head. "The scary thing is that you really believe that," she said. "Go on, then. There are plenty of real monsters out there for you to fight. Go do the job we pay you to do."
Janus gave her a curt nod and exited the building at the first skyway. Once outside, he tapped his communicator.
"How'd it go, boss?" Candace asked.
"The Fowler case has been resolved," Janus said. "The girl is safe and local authorities are handling retrieval. What's our status?"
"Glad you asked. We have reports of broad-scale magical disturbances up in Soulshore. It looks like some faeries may have come through from the Dreamlands and started causing trouble."
"Understood. Have a skimmer meet me on the first level near Hughes Tower."
"Copy that. We'll have it waiting for you at the corner of Trent and 87th."
Janus adjusted the strap holding his scabbard and headed north toward the rendezvous point. He dismissed the incident with the succubus from his mind. So people didn't like him. So they didn't trust him. He didn't care. As long as creatures from Outside were trying to prey on the people in his city, he had a job to do. And he'd make sure it got done — one way or another.
FIN
