Servants of the Nexus (Wayfarer Chronicles #1)

Chapter 3

Cameron White was of the opinion that, when asked for aid by a beautiful woman, a proper gentlemen should always try to oblige - even if he wasn’t anything like a gentleman, and the woman in question, though undeniably attractive, was even less human than he was. It was for this very reason (and the fact that the woman requesting aid scared him more than a little) that he found himself stepping out of the Under Realm into a sprawling city, bright with neon lights and heavy with the creaking, clanking sounds of machinery.
The doorway from the ever-unpredictable Under Realm had brought him to a boarded-up shop, and when Cam stepped outside, Aly was already waiting. The guardian angel - his guardian angel, in fact - had his face to the sky, blue-white light playing across sharp nose and sharper cheekbones. Cam had always thought, vain though it was, that he and Aly looked somewhat alike. Sadly, as only one of them was visible to the world at large, he’d never had outside eyes confirm it.
“What do you think?” he asked.
Aly didn’t look down. “Howl. That’s the name of this place, isn’t it?” He shrugged. “I suspect it’s much the same as any city.”
Cam swallowed a laugh. Aly liked to play at indifference, but he was always secretly thrilled to enter a new world, particularly an urban one - his narrow shoulders practically vibrated with the excitement of it all. Cam couldn’t quite summon the same enthusiasm, not after so many years of travel, but he supposed the city of Howl had a certain appeal. Even so late at night it was bustling with activity, narrow lanes and wider thoroughfares alike bathed in glowing jewels of light, and rumbling to the sound of metal creatures lumbering past. The citizens of Howl had a great fascination with automatons, it seemed, using them for everything from menial errands to transport. Even as Cam stepped out into the street, a metal figure strode past, a corseted woman perched on its shoulder, parasol protecting her hair from the wind and stiff skirts settled in flounces around her.
“Very Victorian,” Cam remarked, watching the pair pass. “Sort of.”
Aly, who’d stopped in the very middle of the street, gave another shrug that shook his folded wings. “I wouldn’t know.”
“No, of course not.” Cam didn’t bother to offer an explanation. It didn’t seem to matter that he had first come across Aly in his own world and a version of London (of which there were many, it had later unsettled him to learn) where the word ‘Victorian’ would have been instantly understood; the angel seemed utterly clueless when it came to any history that Cam would have recognised.
Aly flexed his wings, mysteriously avoiding every passerby, though none of them could see him and his feathers nearly spanned the street. “Mind if I explore?”
“Be my guest. I’m meeting Saenu at some tower.” Cam consulted the smudged notes on the back of his hand. “Aureole Tower?”
Aly rolled his eyes. “I think you’ll find that’s ‘Aurora Tower’, whatever you might have on the brain. Over there.”
He pointed to a glittering construction, a hundred storeys taller than the surrounding buildings and lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh,” Cam said. “Right.”
Aly flashed him a wicked grin, just as his wings started to beat, nearly knocking Cam over with their force. “See you up there, slowcoach.”
Cam resisted the urge to shout a parting insult or shake his fist at the sky; he’d learnt through long experience that, when you were doing either to an invisible being, you tended to get odd looks.
He set off on foot, before catching a tram lit in shades of pink and green that rattled its way deeper into the city. Cam watched Howl scroll past, taking in more brass machinery, steam issuing from grates and chimneys, and automatons in every size and shape lumbering along. It wasn’t until he hopped off the tram and noticed its lack of a driver’s compartment that he realised the vehicle was one of them.
Thankfully, Aurora Tower had lifts to the top, where a restaurant wrapped around the building, with an open-air, glass-floored viewing platform on the level above. Cam found Aly already there, perched on a balustrade with wings half-spread for balance; the view behind him was one of jumbled buildings, bright lights and a precipitous drop.
“Is she here?” Cam asked.
In reply, Aly nodded toward the far side of the platform. Cam turned, catching sight of a tall woman in a black coat that fell to her ankles. It bulged around a sword strapped to her hip, no doubt glamoured to the eyes of anyone but Kin. As she turned, Cam raised a hand in greeting, despite the shiver of nerves running down his spine. As far as he could tell, Saenu came from another Britain, though one thousands of years behind his own in terms of technology and population. She’d been a Wayfarer far longer than him, though, and there was a strangely alien cast to her face, to her eyes, that always set him on edge.
She crossed the platform silently, never glancing down, and brushing through the crowd as easily as Aly might. “Cameron. Thank you for coming.”
Cam nodded in recognition. “You know your summons always take precedence with me.” He tried a smile.
Saenu didn’t smile back. Her gaze had shifted sideways, to where Aly was watching the conversation with interest. By the narrowing of her eyes, it was clear she could see something, if not quite an angel - just one of the facts that had long reassured Cam his guardian was more than a figment of his imagination.
“Hello, Alessandro,” Saenu said.
Aly beamed at her. “Always so polite, this one. Darling Saenumandua, you are as radiant as ever. It’s a pleasure to be here.”
Thankfully, it was clear Saenu could see something but not hear it.
“He says hi,” Cam said, before clearing his throat. “Can I ask why we’re here?”
Saenu met his question with one of her own. “What do you know of the Tremontine Box?”
Cam wracked his memory. “Some little trinket, right? Stolen from a senator’s villa on a mid-Nexus world...”
“And successfully transferred to another realm,” Aly put in.
“...and successfully transferred to another realm.”
Saenu nodded. “Exactly so. Do you know what happened to it afterwards?”
As Aly remained mute, Cam could only shrug. “No idea.”
“I took it.” Saenu folded her arms across her chest. “My speciality has always been dealing with information sold between worlds by rogue Kin. The Box was a... special case. I managed to track it down and recover it.”
Suddenly, Cam could see where this was going. “In the summons, you mentioned something about a theft, right? So it’s been stolen. The Tremontine Box has been stolen.”
“From my very own stronghold in the Under Realm.” Saenu looked grim. “The breach of my security is one thing, but I’m more worried about the Box and what someone might do with it.”
Cam could understand her concern. He’d spent close to two centuries repairing the breaches between worlds caused by dangerous transfers or accidental journeys - anything that had done the impossible and survived such a passage could carry secrets of untold magnitude. “Do you know what’s inside the Box?” he asked.
“I never managed to open it.” Saenu’s expression turned even blacker. “And now I fear someone else is going to unravel its mysteries before I do.”
“So.” Cam flexed his shoulders, wondering what sort of fight they were in for. “The Box came here? Let’s get it back.”
They left the tower in silence, the astounding views of a city by neon suddenly far less impressive than they had been. Cam followed Saenu away from the busy night districts and into a series of backstreets, gloomy and filled with the footsteps and mutterings of less-than-savoury dealings.
“You think this is where the Box was taken?” Cam asked, as they entered a dingy square flanked by industrial units on all sides.
“I could only pin the location down to this city.” Saenu glanced back over her shoulder, eyes gleaming through a river of dark hair. “Anything more specific will require a further scrying.”
“A scrying?” Cam had worked with Saenu a handful of times before, and compared to other Wayfarers he’d been in contact with, her methods were... unorthodox. She talked of spirits and their whispers, seers and future visions. Of magic. For his own part, Cam had mostly confined his work to the central Nexus worlds, to those as advanced or moreso than his home. Who knew what oddities might be found in the outer realms - like the one Saenu herself had come from - before science and technology had claimed them?
They turned down a side-street, darkness falling over them like a cloak. When Saenu raised her hand, there was a glow to her fingers as though she carried a fistful of fireflies. By her light, they picked their way past litter and debris, not all of it inanimate.
Seemingly at random, Saenu chose a grey metal door, scrawled with painted graffiti. She tugged at it but the lock held. “Unlikely though it seems, I believe there’s a scrying pool here. I can… sense it.”
Sense it? That seemed more unlikely still, but who was he to doubt Saenu’s abilities, extraordinary or otherwise? Cam stepped forward, already pulling his picks from their case. “Allow me.”
The lock was a rudimentary affair and opened easily to his deft touch, though its runners squealed like a stuck pig when Cam wrenched it open. Saenu nodded her thanks before entering; Cam glanced once at the sky, finding no sign of Aly in the vicinity, before following her.
They entered a dusty warehouse, its floor scattered with broken packing cases, mouldy straw, and a handful of items that gleamed even in the low light. Cam turned one over with his foot, almost jumping back in surprise when a pair of faceted eyes looked back at him.
“Automaton parts,” he realised, as the disembodied head rolled away into a corner. More of them, pieces of leg and arm and torso, had been rooted out of boxes and strewn across the room. “Do you think they have anything to do with the Tremontine Box?”
“I doubt it,” Saenu replied, peering into an intact case. “These haven’t been touched in years.”
Given the gloom, Cam could only take her word for that.
Saenu stopped beside a pit sunk into the stone floor, filled to the brim with dark water. When Cam peered into its depth, he could see nothing but his own face, but not before he caught a brief glimpse of stars.
“The scrying pool,” Saenu announced, already rolling up her sleeves. “This realm is likely devoid of spirits, but perhaps I can connect with those from my castrum. With my body as their link to this world, they should be able to track the Box further.”
Cam thought that sounded reasonable enough, or it would if he understood a word of what she’d said. He was about to step away from the pool, to give Saenu a little privacy for whatever it was she was about to attempt, when instinct prickled at the back of his neck. Well, he liked to think of it as instinct: more likely, Aly was sending him a warning, visceral enough that he couldn’t misunderstand it.
Saenu was already on her feet, hands dripping water, one reaching for her sword. Cam carried nothing but a knife, but he drew it, letting the weight settle into his palm. Someone was close by, hidden but watchful. Either someone who’d followed them here - or had gotten here first.
A fresh wave of unease crawled down Cam’s back as, out of the shadows, came a low, soft chuckle.