Chapter 15
A Shade Too Dark
The lamp-man ran, light of foot and shaded in darkness.
Des was through the window first, then Yu, then Mal, then Hala, all clambering out onto the rickety fire escape.
The metal dinged and wobbled as they put their weight on it.
Mal choked back his fear of heights; he was only a few floors up, but it was still enough to set him off.
As the lamp-man descended down the metal stairs, his form changed: He fleshed out through his spindly arms and legs; his once-thin torso bulged back to normal size; his head, however, remained a lampshade with a face.
Mal had never seen such drastic transfiguration before.
They were a secretive lot, transfigurators, even when compared to other schools of magic who were secretive by reputation.
Mal clambered carefully down the first set of metal steps.
He could only see the lamp-man through the bars beneath his feet.
He couldn’t let him get away. Whatever Erik had been up to, this man knew, and must have killed him for it.
Whatever conspiracy was afoot, this man was part of the cover-up.
Mal was thankful Des was leading the chase; she was hot on the lamp-man’s heels while they all lagged behind.
The lamp-man jumped from the bottom rungs of the fire escape and made off down the dingy back alley.
Des followed suit, jumping from slightly higher up.
Mal found himself saying “Fuck that” as he picked up his pace.
Ahead of him, Yu expressed a similar worry; they’d gotten to the bottom of the fire escape and needed to jump the final part.
Yu plummeted clumsily, but landed with a surprising grace, like a cat falling from a tree.
Mal’s turn. He pushed his feet to the edge of the metal bars, and looked down.
He was the highest any man had ever been.
He was in fact, less than a story from the floor.
He braced his body, and winced his face.
He took a deep breath, and didn’t move. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to move again.
CRASH.
Hala fell into him with her full weight. She wasn’t heavy, but at speed she had enough force to barrel them both over the waterfall. Mal flew for less than a second. The wind rushing past his ears, his stomach lurching with—
The ground got up to meet him. The hard, crumbly concrete stuck to his face and hands where they’d embraced.
All the wind had left him, and something painful was digging into his back.
Hala seemed to have softened her fall with his body.
She got up quickly and with greater ease than Mal could muster.
She hoisted Mal to his feet and they continued their chase.
Des and Yu disappeared around the corner in front of them.
Hala tried encouragingly to get Mal to run, which Mal did, if reluctantly.
He scraped the rocks and dirt from his hands as he made after them.
Fortunately, when they rounded the corner, Des and Yu were stopped still, looking down at the ground.
Only as Mal got closer did he realize that they weren’t staring mindlessly at the floor; they were in fact looking into an open manhole.
Mal peered over into the hole and was accosted by the smell.
This wasn’t a complicated bouquet of nauseous odors, this was a singular, unwavering smell: excrement.
Rusted metal bars stuck out of the sewer shaft wall, forming a sickly looking ladder into the darkness.
The group exchanged grimaced looks as the putrid smell overwhelmed their expressions.
Des brushed off some of the gravel that was still stuck to Mal’s face and gave him a look that said, How did you manage that?
This was the shortest foot-chase in history?
Mal remained silent. Des changed her eyes to the golden glow and peered down; the light illuminated more of the ladder, but not enough to see the bottom.
“Let’s get to it then,” Des said, getting herself positioned onto the ladder. Mal took a deep breath, happy to have regained that ability, and followed. One by one, the group descended down the slimy ladder into the darkness.
Tainted and cold was the water that soaked Mal’s shoes.
He would have to throw them out once this was all done.
The sewer was somehow less pleasant than Mal had expected.
Redbrick walls curved above him, hideous dank water sloshed below him.
It was cramped, but he could still stand.
When Des blinked, the sewer grew impossibly dark, so Mal got out his phone to help light the way.
Mal thought everything seemed more terrifying when using a flashlight; even a place as familiar as your own home seemed creepy.
Like someone’s lurking in the darkness at the very edge of the light, but when you go to check, they’ve already gone.
Mal thought that he’d seen scenes like this in horror films and decided this is when he would normally be shutting his eyes.
The group was jumpy, and the sound of their footsteps echoing through the thick, brick tunnel seemed to be making it worse.
Des, as always, led the way; it made sense, since she could see the best and had her tracking magic doing its thing.
Mal was quite grateful he wasn’t in the lead.
He worried his courage would fail him. It’s much easier to follow a vampire than lead one, that’s what he always said. Well, would have to start saying.
They slopped through the sewer water for a few minutes.
They found no one, except for a few rats and bugs, all of which seemed much worse for wear.
Eventually, Des lead them to a dead end.
It was a flat wall with a small circle at the bottom, the water clogged and pooled around its tiny entrance. Des turned around, confused.
“He should be here,” Des said, turning to face the group. “He can’t have gone through that?”
“Do you think he transfigured into something smaller and kept going?” Mal said, eyeing the pipe unconvinced.
“Guys,” Hala said from the back. “I think he doubled back.”
“Why do you think that?” Yu said, turning around.
A man stood behind them, drenched in sewer water and pissed as all hell.
Lamp-man had fixed his face. Mal couldn’t tell if he was huge, or if he just filled the small space they were stuck in.
The man was tan and bold; he held the money in one hand and a stiletto in the other.
On further examination, he wasn’t holding the stiletto; his hand was the stiletto.
“You,” the lamp-man said, pointing to Mal, “you’re gonna tell me what the fuck you did to Erik.”
Mal pushed his way forward, putting himself between the lamp-man and the group.
“What do you mean?” Mal said, trying to remain as calm as possible.
“I killed him,” the lamp-man said, gesturing to himself with his stiletto hand. “But you, you brought ’im back. I saw, I saw those fuckin’ eyes of yours. What did you do?”
Mal thought he sensed fear in the lamp-man’s voice. No one else had reacted to his powers like this—well, maybe they had, but they hadn’t shown it.
“Take it easy on him, Mal,” Hala said. Mal had no clue what the fuck she meant. Was she talking to the right person? “The man is terrified.”
The lamp-man took a step back, his stiletto hand trembling.
He really was terrified. He started mumbling something under his breath that sounded like a prayer.
Mal could work with this. He hated his powers, but he wouldn’t actually have to use them here, just threaten to use them.
Hala was probably pushing fear into the poor man’s mind as well.
The lamp-man didn’t know what Mal could do, and neither did Mal if he was honest with himself, but this could work.
“Why did you kill Erik?” Mal said. His voice cracked as his spoke. Intimidation wasn’t his strong suit.
“I’m not telling you shit, freak,” the lamp-man said, trying to edge forward.
Mal didn’t need to search for his powers this time, he just needed to scare this guy.
That didn’t require anything evil or any dead person manipulation.
Just a little transformation. He embraced his powers, pushing himself just a bit more than usual.
He felt his eyes change; the white circles shone out, illuminating the lamp-man.
He felt the shadows grab hold of his body—they usually just clawed and lapped at his edges, but now they swarmed about him.
Hollow, black shadows emerged from his silhouette, scratching and clawing along the floor.
Monsters and creatures of shadow; Mal’s monsters.
Mal looked down and found that he was floating off the floor.
The creatures had wrapped themselves around Mal’s forearms, covering them in darkness.
His hands were now bone, with shadow as flesh. The lamp-man froze.
“Why did you kill Erik?” Mal said, with a voice that was not his own. His new voice was dark and tremendous. Mal felt the thrill of the man’s horror.
“I … I … just do what I’m told,” the lamp-man said. “Erik sold us info, shit that guild of his knew, we paid him, that’s …”
“SO WHY KILL HIM?” Mal said.
“Ahh, we found out he was connected, a cop or something. My boss figured the best cop is a dead one. So he sent me …” Mal heard Des grunt behind him. “When I got out the bag he’d already killed our men. He must have been tying up loose ends too.”
“So you don’t know anything about the serial murderers?” Mal said, reining in his powers.
“What? No!” the lamp-man said, confused.
Fuck, Mal thought. This was a dead end, literally and figuratively.
The man knew nothing, and Erik sounded like he was just selling secrets.
This had been a complete bust and now he had to get everyone out of here before the assassin realized Mal’s powers were useless. How the hell was he going to do that?