Chapter 9 #3
Once I’d regained most of the sensation in my limbs, I resumed my jaunt toward the Cradle.
The informant was set to meet me a few blocks over, and as I drew close to the rendezvous point, the scuffling of shoes against pavement sent my pulse skittering.
Halting my advance, I pressed myself against the brick wall of a storefront, listening for another sign of movement.
Again, the same scraping noise came, and I began to recognize the pattern.
Rounding the corner of the building, I spotted the figure in the alleyway. He was an Unseen. Far younger than I expected, and his short stature lent itself to his youthful appearance. His yellow hair was shaggy and unkempt, hanging down in his face and nearly obscuring his pale orange eyes.
He would have fit right in with the Urchins when we lived on these streets.
A shifting breeze filled the alleyway, and the boy tensed, turning to face the entrance. He pulled a small, gleaming knife from his jacket, holding it out in front of him at an awkward angle.
“Show yourself!” he commanded, fangs bared.
“Peace,” I spoke calmly, allowing the blanket of magic over me to drop.
The kid sucked in a breath, lowering his weapon.
“Shit, it’s really you. Rudderkin.”
“Call me Azrael,” I said, taking a step closer. “What may I call you?”
“Benji,” he replied, rubbing the end of his sharp nose. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. How did you get past the barrier, Benji?”
“I didn’t. I’ve been on this side of things since the City Guard weaved it. Been running info back to my brother on the other side. He’s the one that reached out when all this shit started.”
“That’s very brave of you.”
Benji let out a huff. “You don’t have to talk to me like I’m a child.”
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be twelve next week.”
“Apologies. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
The child shrugged, the peaks of his cheeks ruddy. “S’fine.”
“What can you tell me about the situation at the Cradle?”
“It’ll be easier to show you,” he replied, waving for me to follow him as he stalked out of the alleyway, oblivious to the noise of his footsteps. I followed after him.
“Thad—my brother—says that you used to live here,” Benji said as we walked.
“That’s true. I was about your age when I left.”
“To join the rebellion?”
“Something like that.”
“I wish I were old enough to join.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
Benji paused for a moment, his brow drooping with concentration. “Because I want to help. Thad says that we should help people when we can. Especially other Unseen. It’s the only way that things will get better.”
“He’s right. But there are other ways to help than fighting.”
“Then why did you choose to fight?”
I hesitated in my answer. The truth was, I didn’t choose it.
Nor did the other Urchins. Rudderkin—the man who took us from the streets—made it seem like we had no other choice.
That we would follow him, or slowly starve.
It wasn’t till I was far older, and my hands were already stained with the blood of countless adversaries of Rudderkin, that we came to the realization.
Now, it was impossible for me not to see myself reflected in the eyes of this child. He was standing at the same place I did, all those years ago.
Face to face with another Rudderkin.
A swell of dread filled my gut as Benji looked at me. It was a look of blind trust. I knew that he would follow whatever direction I gave him. And that power terrified me.
“I didn’t make that choice,” I told him, my voice hardly louder than a whisper. “At least, not right away. It was made for me by someone I thought I could trust.”
Benji’s brow crinkled with confusion.
“They made you fight?”
“Yes,” I answered plainly, wanting to remain truthful with the boy.
“And that was wrong. No one should be forced to do anything they don’t want to do.
That’s the entire reason that the rebellion started.
The Unseen have been made to do many unpleasant things over the centuries by other Magi. Now, we’re trying to make that stop.”
“By killing the other Magi, right? The ones who are making us do the things we don’t want to?”
“Only when necessary,” I explained. “We always try to use words first. But the other Magi can be… stubborn. They didn’t want to listen to us.
They saw our want for change as a threat to their way of life.
Now, they understand that there are Unseen no longer willing to quietly obey.
That we are Magi, just like them, and deserve to be treated as such. ”
Benji nodded slowly, as if he were digesting what I’d told him. The dread in my gut continued to roil. Had I shared too much? The boy was too young to grapple with the reality of our situation.
“I understand, I think. But what help can I be if I don’t fight?”
“We need all sorts of help. Tell me, Benji, what is it you like to do?”
“I’m a good runner. Thad says I’m the fastest kid in the city, though I think he might just be saying that because he’s my brother.”
I chuckled, dampening some of the swelling dread. “That’s good. What else?”
Benji scratched at the space between his pointed, feline ears. “I don’t know. What would you do if you weren’t the leader, Azrael?”
My thoughts drifted back to this morning and my time spent working the soil of the flower beds back in Paradise. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d felt such peace.
“I’d be a gardener, I think.”
Benji snorted a laugh that quickly faded. “Oh, you’re being serious.”
“Yes. I never picked up on my father’s craft in the kitchen. In fact, I was quite awful at it. But working in a garden always felt like home to me. There, I learned to take something desolate and void of life and transform it into something beautiful. To touch the soul through color and fragrance.”
We rounded another corner, and the tall steeples of the Cradle came into view.
“What about this?” Benji reached under his jacket, pulling out a small, tattered book that he flipped open. He turned to show me the pages, his gaze dropping to the ground as he did. “It’s something I like to do. I don’t know how it would help the rebellion, though.”
I took the book from the boy, studying the intricate sketch of a busy street.
The charcoal lines were smudged at the corners, but the detail he captured made it feel as though the figures on the page were going to walk right off the page.
I flipped to the next page, and it was a sketch of another Unseen boy.
He looked taller than Benji, with lupine ears that stood tall on the crown of his head, and a long scar that ran across his left cheek.
“Not that one!” Benji quickly snatched the book back, shoving it into his jacket once more.
“Apologies,” I said, fighting a smile. “It’s impressive work, though. Should you ever choose to share it, then you’d touch the hearts of many.”
“Maybe,” he replied, still averting his gaze from me.
“May I ask the boy’s name?”
“Huh?”
“The one you drew. What’s his name?”
Benji’s cheeks flushed. “Renee.”
“Have you shown him that drawing?”
He shook his head.
“Why not?”
“Because he’s my brother’s best friend,” Benji replied. “And it would be weird.”
“You should show him sometime,” I said through a chuckle. “Take it from someone with enough regrets of their own, you should tell others how important they are to you as often as you can. Life is often cruel and deprives you of the chance to do it later.”
Benji was quiet as we rounded the last corner, finding ourselves standing across the street from the Cradle’s entrance.
Billowing tendrils of darkness poured from every orifice of the building, and it was difficult not to imagine whatever this phenomenon was as a creature, grasping for anything it could get within its reach.
The dread in my stomach swelled as the fabric-like material moved silently in the non-existent breeze.
“It’s been like this since yesterday morning,” Benji said after a moment, hesitating at the edge of the sidewalk.
His pale orange eyes scanned the Cradle warily.
“There were a few City Guard that tried to get in first. Then a whole bunch of official-looking brutes from the Council came after, but they weren’t dumb enough to go inside. ”
“No one else has come round?”
“Nope. At least, not that I’ve noticed.”
“Strange. The Cardinal and probably half of the Church’s bishops are trapped in there. You’d think that would motivate a stronger response.”
Benji’s brow drooped. “Are you saying that the Council doesn’t care about the Cardinal?”
“Could be. From what I’ve heard, they’re more than content letting things carry on as they are for as long as possible. If the Cardinal was stirring things up too much for their taste, this would be an all-too-convenient—”