The Quarrygate Gambit, page 29
A squirrel on the floor, chittering at him.
“I guess Hoskins’ friends are still leading us.”
“Right,” Asti said. “Maybe he and the others are all right.” He couldn’t feel anything in the crystal that told him otherwise, beyond fear and anger from everyone. And that was strong, so strong that’s all he could feel.
“Is your connection to the crystal getting more intense?” Almer asked. “Like too much noise to hear anything else through?”
“Now that you mention it, yes,” Asti said. “Everything’s too loud to make sense of it all. So ignore it.”
“Easier said than done,” Almer said. “But I wasn’t sure if it was the crystal or my arm.”
Asti got Almer’s coat off of him and checked his injury. The arm was definitely broken, twisted in an unnatural way. Asti tied his coat into a sling as best he could. “That’ll have to do for now.”
“Only way out is through,” Almer said.
Asti helped Almer as they followed the squirrel up the passage along the railtrack. “Not seeing any further tripwires. They probably assumed whoever fell in would be trapped in the device.”
“Small comfort,” Almer said. “How does someone build this?”
“Are you talking about what kind of sick mind it would take?”
“That’s easy to understand,” Almer said. “I’m talking about money, resources. Getting the space here to build it, the equipment. Smithing specific parts. Manpower.”
“Verci does a lot of scrounging and creative use of found material.”
“But nothing like this,” Almer said. “I wonder who this Sholiar is, exactly.”
“Well, if you want to spend time asking him, that’s your business. Do you think we’re closer to Yendick?”
“Only because the squirrel is jumping.” Which it was, excitedly, as they approached what appeared to be the end of the passage. There were a set of double doors here, designed to swing out.
“I’ve got an idea,” Asti said. “Stay with the squirrel. When the doors are open, slip out, and then try to get to Yendick.”
“What will you be doing?”
“Hopefully driving a blade into Sholiar’s neck, but I’ve learned not to hope too much.”
Asti went back down to the bottom of the passage, to the trap designed to catch a man falling out of the chute, and then likely send him careening along the track and through the doors into Sholiar’s waiting arms.
“Just a matter of triggering it without getting trapped,” Asti muttered.
“You aren’t as clever as all that,” Liora said. “Verci could do it, but he isn’t here. Without him what even are you?”
“Stubborn enough to get this done, that’s what,” Asti said, looking under the device. A modified minecart, with what looked like a pressure switch underneath that would make everything on top snap shut, and release the spring to send it flying along the track. He could never build it, or safely dismantle it, but he didn’t need to do either right now. He hung unto the edge of it, swung his foot over and kicked hard where the center of his body should land, pulling his leg back as quick as he could.
His foot almost got snared as it all snapped shut, but it missed him, thank every saint.
The cart flew off, giving him no time to think further on it. He buzzed right past Almer, through the doors that swung out, sending him into a well-lit chamber.
“And finally, I was wondering—well!”
Asti leaped from the cart onto the first person he saw who wasn’t trapped in a device, but it turned out not to be a person, just a life-size doll standing in the middle of the room. He had already tackled it to the ground and stabbed it before he even realized.
“You are something of a clever one, aren’t you?” Sholiar’s voice echoed from around him. “I’m always interested by the clever ones. They always think they’re a step ahead.”
A beam of light swung across the room, landing on Yendick, stuck in some elaborate torture device, pressing slow weight on him. Asti started toward him, but the beam swung again—Kat’rick, in the same situation. Then again, Tharek. Then again: Almer, held by two muscled mooks.
“Is this your game?” Asti shouted. “When I find you—”
“When you find me, yes,” Sholiar said. “I’m sure you will deal such elaborate violence on me, I can see that. But you can’t do that if they all don’t survive.”
From an unseen point in the ceiling, a group of chains dropped and dangled near Asti. In the same moment, something clicked in the devices holding Yendick, Kat’rick, and Tharek, and that slow press accelerated.
“Better grab those chains to save them, friend.”
Asti swore and leaped at the chains, grabbing all four and pulling them down. Some of the weight released, but he could feel that he was the only thing keeping it from dropping.
Then a trap clamped over his foot.
“I am always a step ahead,” Sholiar said, stepping out of the shadows. “Now I have you just as trapped.”
“I can get this clamp off,” Asti said.
“I’m sure, but your hands are pretty full right now. You’re very busy keeping your associates alive.” He came up and ran a finger over the crystal in Asti’s chest. “And you are definitely invested in that. Very intriguing, this. I can’t wait to learn all about it.”
Asti tried to grab him, but even letting go of the chains with one hand for a second caused them to slip. He clutched them harder as Yendick screamed out. From the corner of his eye, he saw Almer being shoved into the minecart trap, he was in no condition to resist.
“Yes, you are rather stuck, indeed. Now, I have much work to do.”
“I will make sure you—”
“Yes, yes,” Sholiar said. “But for now, you’re their only hope. You’re your only hope.”
Liora appeared in front of Asti. “You’re familiar with this game, Asti. This is what you do every day to keep your friends and loved ones safe.”
“All you have to do,” Sholiar said, an absurd grin spreading across his face, “Is not let go of that chain.”
* * *
Asti held on to all the chains, the ones keeping the others from getting killed, the ones in his head.
Tharek, Kat’rick, Almer, Yendick, each of them were in pain. Each of them were afraid, in their own way, and he could feel all of that. Plus his own pain, his own fear.
“That’s it,” Sholiar said, looking at Asti. “Yes, I see you’re starting to understand. You’ve been down this road before, haven’t you? You’ve faced fear like this before. You’ve felt pain like this before. The others, they’re tough, they’ve been through trouble, but you . . . oh, you, yes. You really know.”
“When I get my hands on you—”
“Yes, those hands are very busy, though,” Sholiar said. “Holding that chain is hard, it’s taking quite a bit of your strength, but you . . . you’ll bear it. You’ll hold it. For hours, I see that in your eyes already.”
Sholiar stood face to face with Asti. So close Asti could choke the life out of him if he could just let go, just for a moment.
“You know, I was excited to get your friend there. He’s the source of the power, and I wanted to know more about that, understand what he does. Because you’re feeling him, and he you. And that bond between you, you had to follow. Amazing. That kind of power. That’s what I want to understand.”
“Understand what?” Asti asked through grit teeth.
“What is pain, exactly? What is fear, what is terror? Can I pour it out and measure it? Can I know, empirically, objectively, how much pain you each are in, how much fear? And if I can pour it out and measure it, then there are so many questions that follow.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a glass bottle with a spritzer on the top. “Can I extract that fear, that pain, capture its essence, like one can pull out the base notes of a scent from a flower. Where do I cut you, sir, to drain you of your fear? What oils draw the terror out of your body? How do I make a perfume from your soul?”
He spritzed into Asti’s face. Asti sputtered and swore as Sholiar laughed and walked away.
“Now, you,” he said to Yendick. “You’ve got something truly special in you. Beyond magic, beyond science, and I think it might be just what I want. You can capture their fear, their pain, and send it to the others. Fascinating. And it’s clearly something with these crystals.” He tapped the one in Yendick’s chest. “It’s very exciting!”
“You . . . you . . .” was all Asti could say. He still couldn’t quite breathe, the perfume still sticky-sweet on his face.
“Yes, I know,” Sholiar said. “Since you can feel everything from each other, it’s time to really see what that means. And have each of you truly face your terror, your pain.”
“I’ll show you terror and pain!” Tharek said.
“Look at you,” Sholiar said. “So many scars on you, so many more inside. I’m really going to enjoy this experiment.”
“What do you want?” Yendick asked, his voice hoarse.
“I was told to conduct a symphony of fear and pain,” Sholiar said. He laughed and stepped into the center of them. “And I can hardly conduct a symphony without musicians! And each of you, each of you, must learn how to truly be masters of your instruments.”
He walked over to Asti.
“Yes, but I think you do know how to play yours. Which is good, because I am in need of a virtuoso for this particular score we’re about to play.”
“You forgot . . .” Asti said.
“I what?” Sholiar asked.
“You forgot . . . there was one more of us.”
“Oh no, is someone else still here? Be assured, whatever other friends you have, they are also rats in my traps.”
“Not rats,” Asti said.
He could hear the chittering all around.
Dozens and dozens of squirrels swarmed into the chamber from every direction.
“Oh, this is new!” Sholiar exclaimed.
The squirrels poured in, all of them going right for Yendick. They clawed and bit and chewed, scratching at the machine parts binding him. A couple got caught in a gear, and there was a terrible burst of blood and a squeal. But there were so many squirrels, it didn’t slow them down. They just kept coming.
“Now you’re going to get it,” Asti said, tensing his shoulders so he could leap on Sholiar as soon as he was free.
“So it might seem,” Sholiar said. “Well, this truly would be a frightening moment for me, wouldn’t it? Wish I could feel it.”
The squirrels pulled Yendick out of his device, and he almost collapsed to the ground, but they caught him. Dozens of them lifted him up on their backs and scurried away, taking Yendick with them.
“Good work, Hoskins!” Asti shouted. “Now get him!”
The squirrels all ran out, following with Yendick.
“Hoskins!” Asti shouted. “Get us out of here!”
The squirrels all retreated from the chamber. All gone, so was Yendick.
“Hoskins!” Asti screamed.
“Is this where I’m going to get it?” Sholiar asked in a faux whisper. “Or do I need to keep waiting?”
* * *
Asti could feel every time his grip on the chains slipped even an inch—a blade pressed ever so slightly deeper into Kat’rick’s flesh, the weight on Almer’s chest pushed a little harder, Tharek’s limbs were stretched a little further. Asti felt every bit of that, as well as his shoulders being wrenched, his hands tearing raw.
But he couldn’t let go. He wouldn’t let go.
“Now,” Sholiar said, strolling up to Asti. “You are doing a remarkable job, so far. The determination on your face is quite something.”
“He doesn’t even know how ready you are to hold on, does he, Asti?” Liora said.
“While I wish I still had that bearded fellow to play with, I did learn enough about this,” Sholiar said, tapping on the crystal in Asti’s chest. Asti wanted to grab his hand, to break his fingers, but he couldn’t risk letting go, even for a moment. He tried to bend his head and bite Sholiar’s hand, but Sholiar was quick enough to pull away.
“Oh, interesting. You’re still present enough, intent enough to do that. That’ll change.” He chuckled and walked around Asti. “Now, like I said, I’ve learned enough about this crystal do know how the four of you are bound to each other. Joined in pain, joined in death. Which is incredible, let me tell you. What I could do with that power.”
“What I could do . . .” Asti muttered.
“Yes, I know, you’re very dangerous,” Sholiar said. “But stay with me here, sir, while I ruminate. You each feel each other’s pain, and the crystal is a conduit that captures that. What else can I capture with that crystal, if I crack into its secrets? Into yours? Your joy? Your sorrow? Your very soul? What can I pour into a crystal and make my own possession?”
“Do something,” the beast urged. It was now in the corner of the room. Not a room, a cell.
“He’s right,” Liora said. “Right now, everyone is going to die, sooner or later. You’ll give in and drop that chain. But if you do it when your body breaks, you’ll be too weak to do anything about this.”
“Set me free!” the beast shouted. It was being held by a chain, the chain Asti held.
The chain was getting hotter.
Sweat dripped into Asti’s eyes—he couldn’t quite see clearly anymore. Where was he? Where did Tharek and Kat’rick go? He could feel them—their pain, their anger, their fear—but he couldn’t see them or hear them anymore. He wasn’t on the factory floor anymore, but in a cell.
That cell.
“You’ve brought yourself back to Levtha,” Liora said. “Back to where you and he first met?”
“No,” Asti said. “Almer, are you there? Where are you?”
“I don’t think he can hear you,” Liora said. “Maybe he’s already dead.”
“No, I would know, I would feel it.”
“Asti,” she said. “You can’t save him. You can’t save any of them. You can’t even save yourself. But maybe you can just drop the chain . . . and you’d be free.”
“Just be free!” the beast shouted.
“Imagine,” she said. “Not having to worry about anything anymore. Not about Tharek or Almer or the others. Not about the Andrendon, or the fire. Not about all those people who want so much from you back in North Seleth. Not simpering Kimber and her cow eyes mooning over you. Not Verci, Raych, and the baby, who would all be better off without you.”
“No,” Asti said.
“Right, you can’t let it go,” Liora said. “You can’t let anything go? Asti Rynax has to be so responsible for everyone.”
“No,” Asti said again.
“There you go. Now we’re getting into something interesting.” Sholiar’s voice, somewhere in the distance. Asti couldn’t see anything but the cell, the beast, and Liora. “Soon you’ll be part of the symphony.”
“No!” Asti said. “I won’t let go!” He could still feel the chain in his hand, hot and hard. Still solid his hands. That was real. The rest of this was his broken mind, trying to trick him. Sholiar trying to trick him. Liora trying to trick him.
“You will,” she whispered. “Sooner or later, you will be broken.”
“Sooner or later,” Sholiar’s voice said. “You’ll be mine.”
“Sooner or later,” Liora said. “You’ll let go.”
“No,” Asti whispered. He’d hold that chain. No matter how much it hurt. No matter what it would take. He wouldn’t let go.
Part Four
The Rynax Family
Chapter 28
VERCI WAS WELL AWARE OF the amount of spectacle he was making by taking Grieson’s horses and pounding them at full gallop from his safehouse in Carrol Creek to the Gadgeterium, Grieson riding hot on his heels the whole way. He didn’t care what Grieson thought, or any of the people who saw the commotion they were making. He did feel bad for the horses, though.
Grieson had told Verci everything as they went through the secret passage from Ward Twelve to the safehouse—more of Maradaine’s infamous tunnels—and it had taken every ounce of self-control Verci had to not slit the man’s throat then and there.
Everything they had gone through: the arrest, the time in the prison, Verci and Julien in the box, Kennith’s attacks, Pilsen . . . damn it, Pilsen. All that had been Grieson and his stupid scheme to manipulate Asti.
And now Asti was dealing with that maniac who had built those horrifying machines in the Parliament, made that evil murder jacket that Verci had barely been able to disarm.
“We don’t have any time for this!” Grieson urged Verci as they arrived at the Gadgeterium. “Sholiar could have already . . .”
“And if so, you’re going to pay for it,” Verci said as he went inside. “But if you expect me to be able to deal with this madman, deal with whatever sadistic inventions he’s got, I’m not going to have a chance unless I have my gear. You should have thought of that from the beginning.”
Grieson stood in the apartment door. “We didn’t know it was Sholiar from the beginning.”
“Even stupider of you,” Verci said. “Raych! Raych!” There was no sign she was here. Verci glanced at the dishes by the washtap. Dirty and crusted. She hadn’t been here for at least a day.
Things on the table: dirty wineglasses and teacups, but also street plans, a building blueprint. Some of his inventions laid out on the floor.
“The blazes was happening here? Where is Raych?”
“We . . . I’m not sure,” Grieson said. “She was being watched—her and Kesser and the Ch’omik woman—but they managed to ditch their shadows two days ago. They’re doing something for Missus Holt, but we—”
“They’re what?” Verci couldn’t believe it. “When I have time for this reckoning, you will receive it. But first Asti.”
Verci tore off his prison guard uniform and grabbed his own clothes, the ones he’d wear for a gig. Not that he had time to really prepare. Had to be quick and simple. Bandolier of darts. Asti’s knife belt. Simple toolkit, a few more specific tools from his larger box, put them in his vest pockets and—where was it?
