Chương 14: Chapter 13 – In and Out

Bracken hesitated. The crawlspace was narrow. Of their crew, only he or Sable would be able to comfortably slip through it. Lucky then, that he was the one they planned to send in. Still, the passageway would do them no good if it didn't provide genuine access to the next house over. He needed to test it. Cold, sore, and increasingly reluctant, he pulled on the handle. The covering came away begrudgingly; the wood swollen with damp. He set it aside and crawled through, brushing cobwebs aside and spitting out dust.

His shoulders and back brushed against the sides as he inched through. The attic above Pike and Cinder's place was in much better shape. Dry and downright warm by contrast. Bracken let his eyes adjust for a few moments before creeping further in, searching the space as much by touch as by sight. Small barrels and half-full crates littered the space, storing things up and away from the damp below. Tools, broken furniture, spare linens and thick coats. All annoyingly mundane, not even worth stealing.

He'd have hoped a Caller would have cooler things squirreled away in their lair. Bracken knew he would, at least, when he ascended that high. He found the hatch that led down to the fourth floor of the town house easily enough. He lifted it away but then paused. He couldn't see properly, but he could imagine how he must look. Sopping wet clothes dragged through dust and mould. He couldn't risk tracking that through the house proper or he'd tip them off to his having broken in for sure.

Grimacing, feeling colder and more vulnerable by the second, he peeled off his sodden clothes. He managed to find some spare linens folded in one of the crates and towelled off as best he could before stuffing the soiled linen, his boots, and his clothes back through the crawlspace to retrieve on his way out. Naked, freezing, and wondering why he'd ever thought this was a good idea, Bracken crouched beside the hole. It seemed a longer drop from up there and his arms were already tired and stiff with cold.

He lay down on his belly, glad that no one was watching, and shuffled backwards, letting the hatch rest against his back as he went so it would fall back into place when he let go. Half-way down, his arms gave out and he fell, crashing to the floor in a shivering heap. No points for style and even fewer for stealth, he'd need to be careful about that tomorrow night. He got to his feet, keeping his head below the windowsill.

A cross breeze blew through the upper floor, windows open at the front and rear of the building. Moonlight filtered through them, and a dull orange glow emanated from the fireplace where an Implement of Wodfyr pulsed with latent power. Fancy by the standards of the black district, but perhaps Cinder had enchanted it himself. Bracken looked around and nodded, satisfied that this room at least was suitably arcane for the home of a Caller.

A desk dominated one side of the room, notes and books piled in messy stacks across its surface. Bracken flipped one open. The text was messily written, and the light was scarcely enough to read by, but he managed to glean enough to understand what he held. The records of a Planewalker discussing their magic and their path to power. Bracken looked at the papers with renewed appreciation, eyebrows rising. He'd have to steal some of those too, tomorrow, when he could make his escape by boat instead of swimming.

No sense pilfering them just to destroy them in a canal. The rest of the room was clearly given over to Cinder's study of his power. Vials of powders and liquids crowded a shelf, stinking of sulphur, saltpetre, strong alcohol, and compounds he couldn't name. Small lanterns and braziers competed for space around the room, all currently unlit. Several of them were laid out in a circle around a cleared spot on the floor, as if Cinder used the space to meditate surrounded by flame.

Seemed like the sort of thing a Caller ought to do, Bracken nodded, wondering how he'd set up something similar for himself once he was Stained by Aerwyn. Regretting that he couldn't light any of the flames to warm himself, Bracken crept towards the stairs to explore the rest of the house. The staircase groaned beneath his weight, and he winced at the sound. Another thing to watch out for tomorrow. He shuffled his foot out wide and kept his weight to the edges of the steps rather than the centre.

It helped, the rest of the steps only creaking quietly, no louder than the rest of the did every time the wind blew. He reached the third story and squinted at what he saw. A dresser on one side of the room, a set of cupboards on the other, and a large two-person bed dominating the centre of the space. The bed was unmade, feathers sticking out of a beaten-up old mattress. There was a noticeably larger indent on one side than the other. Bracken nodded to himself.

He hadn't connected those dots, but it made sense, he supposed. Fuck the pair of them, but also, good for them. At least they'd have each other once he finished robbing them blind. Pricks. The only other interesting thing about the room was the set of stones and chunks of metal laid out on top of the dresser, not unlike the altar to Durnheim in Harrow's church. None of them worth stealing, at least as far as Bracken could tell in the dark, so he left them alone and checked the next floor down.

The second storey floor was similarly unimpressive. A kitchen and living space, cluttered with a table that took up too much space and a pair of mismatched chairs. A black iron stove sat cold and empty, and a few jugs crowded the counter. Bracken gave one a tentative sniff, wrinkling his nose at the strong spirits within. He blinked away the fumes, eyes stinging, and was about to check out their pantry when he heard a strangled and unconvincing "Kaw!" cry out from across the canal.

"Shit," Bracken hissed, startling and nearly dropping the jug of spirits. He placed it carefully back on the counter and darted towards the window, keeping low. He peeked over the ledge, looking out over the misty canal outside.

"Kaw! Kaw Kaw!" Torvin cried, convincing no one of his seagull credentials. Should've brought Sable, she was much better at giving the signal. Bracken glanced to where his friend hid and saw him crouched beside a chimney, waving and pointing towards Silk's bridge. If the fool didn't duck back down, he was going to get them both caught. Bracken tore his eyes from Torvin and looked to the bridge. There was a pier beside it where a few smaller boats had been moored.

One fewer now with Cinder and Pike drifting directly towards him. Cinder sat towards the front, Pike rowing in the back. Bracken dropped. He had only moments to get out! Torvin was meant to warn him earlier if someone was coming but he must have missed them or not seen who it was in the dark. The pair had stayed at Silk's Laundry drinking until much later each of the last three nights and he'd been banking on them sticking to that routine. Fuck! Bracken darted towards the stairs.

In the dark and in his panic, he kicked the bottom step with his bare foot, his toes screaming in pain. He bit down hard on his lip, eyes watering, and swallowed his yelp, fingers digging into his palms. Limping, half-hopping, he clambered back up the steps, favouring speed over stealth all the way to the fourth floor. It was only when he stood beneath the hatch in the roof that he realised exactly how much of a Maw damned fool he was. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road.

Report any occurrences. He couldn't reach. He muttered every curse he knew under his breath, crouching down and digging his fingers into his scalp, trying to prise an idea from his brain while adrenaline turned it to mush. His heart thundered, his mouth was dry, he had a sudden and desperate need to piss. He looked up again. They couldn't have reached the house yet. He couldn't move furniture without rumbling himself, but he could still afford to make some noise.

He jumped, arms stretched out above him, testing whether he could reach the hatch to push it out of the way. He didn't come close on the first jump, his muscles stiff with cold and weak with panic. On the second, his fingers grazed the hatch. He landed with a whimper of frustration, trying desperately to remember some fraction of how he always felt when Harrow tolled his bell. He'd never wanted a Stain of Durnheim before, but for once, he could understand the appeal of that supernatural calm.

He crouched low, breathed deep, and leapt. He knocked the cover askew with one hand, his other managing to catch the lip of the hatch by his fingertips. He scrambled to latch on with his other hand, his palms crying out with a reminder that they were already skinned and pricked with splinters. His arms shook, his shoulders burning as he tried to pull himself up, but he was weak and he was cold and he was sore and with his heart in his throat, he could barely breathe.

He only managed to rise a few inches before he lost his grip and fell to the floor, clutching his aching fingers to his chest. The ground floor! It would be halfway sunken. The pair would have no reason to go down there. He could hide below until they went to bed and then sneak out the front door. Breathing through clenched teeth, he scrambled back down the stairs. He was atop the stairs to the first floor when their voices reached him.

"I just don't see why we couldn't stay longer," said Pike.

"I was winning."

"You always think you're winning, right before you lose all our fucking money," Cinder replied. Bracken froze atop the stairs, feeling the shadow of a guillotine blade rising above him. Their voices were muffled, still outside, but loud with drink and the confidence that they were alone.

"It was different this time. I was on a hot streak."

"Doesn't matter. I want to get up early tomorrow anyway. We visit the bakers at dawn and then straight to Tevaro. Fucking Maeruki is finally going to give me what I need." Bracken tried creeping down the stairs, but the first step cried out like an old man having his back stepped on and he winced, retracting his weight. They were so close, just outside the door, tying off the boat.

Bracken looked over the railing, seeing the next set of stairs down and the still blackness of the waters halfway flooding the ground floor. He was about to make a break for it when a key began rattling around in the lock to the front door. Maw take them. Silk hide him. Sael cut him some fucking slack.

"He might not," Pike said.

"Might be gone. Think you really scared him saying we was gonna drown him."

"Don't be stupid, Maeruki can't drown. And he'd fucking better be there. I don't want to be beating on fat bakers and their wives our whole lives, running fucking recruitment for fucking Tallow. Tevaro's going to give me some treasures so I can get back to Forging myself, and once I'm done, Tallow will have to give us real work, and we'll make some real money. Enough to get you Stained properly. Stop fucking fiddling with that lock and open the damn door, I'm cold."

"Sorry," mumbled Pike.

"I'm trying." Shit, shit, shit. Bracken forced his legs to move, creeping down each step, testing his weight on each one before committing. They groaned, but quietly enough.

"Let me do it. You'd better hope Tevaro is there tomorrow. You keep using those stupid bloody knuckles of yours and your arms are going to shatter and fall off. Then you'll be about as much use with your hands as you are with your head." The lock clicked and the door began to creak open. Never mind. Up. Bracken pivoted and clambered back the way he'd come, shooting straight towards the fourth floor as quickly and quietly as he could manage.

"You don't have to be so mean," Pike grumbled. Even from upstairs, Bracken heard the exaggerated sigh from Cinder. He ran to the window at the front side of the house and looked out. Fog churned, completely blanketing the waters below. He could scarcely make out the boat floating beside the first-floor balcony through the mist.

"I'm sorry, alright? I'm just stressed." Bracken looked to where Torvin still stood, a panicked gargoyle perched beside the chimney. Bracken leaned out the window and waved madly, catching his friend's attention. Torvin gestured back just as madly, pointing at the boat and beckoning with both arms for Bracken to get the hell out. Bracken could hear them on the stairs below, climbing towards the second floor, still bickering.

It was a miracle they couldn't hear his heartbeat given how loudly it was thundering in his own ears. He waved his arms back at Torvin in a way he hoped said "I have no fucking idea what to do! Help!" Torvin must have understood because he stood up straight, looked around, and began to belt out a tune.

"Oooooh, my maiden was fair! As fair as can be! That fateful night, when she came to me! I danced with her then and bought her some drinks! She smiled, she laughed, said she likes me, she thinks!" He was off key, shouting more than singing, and he sounded like his lungs were as paralysed as Bracken's, but it was loud, and convincingly drunk. Fool probably was drunk in truth, sipping on a flask full of liquid courage on his own up there.

"What the fuck is that?" Cinder grunted from downstairs.

"Dunno. Sad drunk?" Pike replied.

"I followed her home, and into her bed! I played with her hair, t'was gossamer red! She kissed me and touched me and gave me some head, and that's when I knew, I loved her, I said!"

"Oi! Shut the fuck up!" Cinder stepped out onto the first-floor balcony and Bracken nearly fell over backwards in his haste to step away from the window.

"Is he gonna jump?" Pike asked, deep voice rumbling. They'd both gone back down to the first floor. That still left Bracken with no way out and nowhere to hide. Could he try to wait it out up here? Sneak past them while they were sleeping. No, too risky, what if they woke up? Maybe he could just hide on the top floor until morning, leave after they did. And die horribly if Cinder had any reason at all to poke his head up the stairs. Shit! He pulled at his hair, ideas harder to catch hold of than the mist outside.

Torvin ignored Cinder and kept belting out the song.

"But then in the morning, she begged me to leave! Said, soldier, you're gorgeous, but get ye gone, please! My husband be home soon, and if you he sees, he'll gut you, he'll kill you, he'll be most cross with me!" A fireball arced through the air, lighting up the night. It cleared Torvin's head by at least six feet, but he still yelped.

"Either jump and end it, or shut the fuck up and go home, you miserable sod!" Jump. Not a bad idea. The only idea, really. Bracken clambered over to the rear window, sitting on the ledge and letting his legs dangle over the black before he could second guess himself. In the distance, Torvin started up another verse, voice echoing strangely through the mist and down the narrow alleys of the Gutters. There was another whoosh of fire and more yelling. The distraction wouldn't last much longer.

Hopefully, they weren't listening for a splash. Bracken gritted his teeth, took one last deep breath, and jumped.