Stories From the Shadowlands (5 page)

Each time, when I considered lying down and letting the building have me, Heshel spoke to me. He told me to endure. I don’t know if he was real, or if it was in my mind. I wish he would speak to me when the nightmares come. They are nearly as bad as the tower itself and hit me whenever I close my eyes, just as often as they did in my early days as a Guard.

I may have made it through, but somehow I still feel defeated.

Day 796

Nine patrols to the Southern Quarter. Five Mazikin to the dark tower. Two Guards injured (not counting me), one severely enough to be retired.

But we’ve done it. We’ve found the nest. We are planning our assault. It will be my first. Takeshi estimates that at least sixty Mazikin have made this cave-like monstrosity their home. It looks like someone tried to grow themselves a mountain of mud, and the Mazikin have turned it into a human anthill. We saw them taking in another recruit this evening, and the rage and helplessness was overwhelming. The victim was a boy who couldn’t have been older than sixteen when his earthly life ended. He is lost twice over now. Takeshi said it was not possible to save that boy because he’ll be one of them by the time our platoons arrive from the northwest.

He said that the next time I see that boy, I should drive my scimitar through his belly, and I shouldn’t think twice about it.

Day 797

Tomorrow at dawn we make our assault. Not that “dawn” means very much, because only Takeshi can easily identify when it comes. To me, all is darkness unless I focus very hard on seeing the light.

I can’t sleep. Twenty Guards are packed shoulder to hip in one of the apartments on the fourth floor, snoring and snorting and farting and grunting, so I am spending the night on the roof, where it is slightly easier to breathe. From here, I can see a sliver of the dull mud slope of the Mazikin nest between two rickety towers directly to the south. In a few hours, we’ll gear up and leave in pairs so that the Mazikin aren’t alerted to our presence.

We have fire and fuel. We’ll throw our firebombs through all known entrances and then block all but one. We’ll kill anything that emerges. Then we’ll wait for the fire to die and go in and kill anything that’s still moving. Only Takeshi and I can do that—the other Guards are too large to fit through the openings, which is probably why the Mazikin chose the place.

We know they might have laid traps. We know tomorrow may end us. But Takeshi says every day is like that, only we don’t usually pay attention. It’s easy to hate Takeshi, but hard to argue with him.

Day 798

“I’m only sixteen!” he cried. “I only came in here for shelter! I’ve done nothing wrong! Please don’t hurt me!”

Those were the last words he said before I followed Takeshi’s orders and shoved my blade through his gut.

We know something the Mazikin always seem to forget: the residents of this city do not ever beg for their lives.

Day 799

We went back to the nest site today. The air still hangs smoky and rank and dense, and I hate the smell because it reminds me of things I want to forget. I think maybe Takeshi noticed, because he let me wait outside to stand guard instead of going into the nest to search for stragglers.

For a few hours, we thought perhaps we had done it. We thought we might have succeeded in ridding the city of the Mazikin. But when Takeshi emerged, he shook his head. “At least one got away. There are footprints through the ash.”

I thought of the boy Mazikin I killed. He was only one of many I slaughtered yesterday. And still, it isn’t enough, and they are still out there collecting people. They will go somewhere else in this vast maze and start a new nest, and now we start the game again. I have no words for this feeling.

Day 908

“I made you this,” Takeshi said. He tossed a crumpled piece of parchment at me. He smelled of the streets, and his face was shadowed with fatigue from days of patrolling.

I unfolded it and peered down at the chaotic scrawl. It looked like the scribbles of a child. “What is it?”

He frowned and leaned over to look at it. “It’s the pagoda cluster thirty-seven blocks south, nineteen blocks west of the forty-eighth block on the south edge of downtown, marking from the corner of the DRUG store nearest the Station.”

I held the paper up and tried to reconcile the drawing with my own recent observations of that area. Takeshi’s perspective is warped, a little like his sense of humor. His intentions, however—I can’t find fault with those, not this time. “I can use this,” I told him. “Thank you.”

“I still say it’s a hopeless project,” he replied, then walked away.

Day 1000

I would give up a lot for one bite of a fresh, crisp apple. I lie awake sometimes, trying to collect my memories and stack them high enough to bring the taste to my mouth, the texture to my tongue. It used to be easier. I think, someday soon, I will have forgotten entirely what it felt like. I wonder what else I have forgotten, and how many things I have left to lose.

Day 1251

I am still in the northeast sector, patrolling after one of our Guards was set upon by two Mazikin. He is recovering, but Takeshi sent me to investigate whether there are signs that the Mazikin have located their nest here. I have found myself an apartment near the city wall, because from here I can sit on the roof and watch the grey sun rise through the haze.

Last night, I had planned to watch the sunset as well, because I anchor my days to that rise and fall, but I became distracted. Across the street is another apartment building, and through the fourth window on the seventh floor, right across from my own apartment, I can see a girl, no older than seventeen or eighteen, long, dark hair, thin wrists and slender fingers. Her long dress seems like it might have been fine and expensive, but it is covered in stains, tattered and soiled.

She paces back and forth constantly, her hands fluttering around her face, her hair, her body, never stopping, like she's trying to fix herself but doesn't know how. I found myself watching her for hours, until the sun was gone, until the dim stars winked overhead, until I realized there was a light in the east and I had watched her all night.

Day 1252

She left her apartment tonight, and I followed her. I couldn’t bear the idea that the Mazikin might find her and take her, so I crept along behind, listening to her murmur to herself in a language I do not understand. She found her way to a CLOTHES emporium, a giant warehouse containing aisles and aisles of tables, upon which are piled all manner of apparel.

She was not the only one in there. Other city residents wandered the place, sliding their hands over the fabric, some of them burying their faces in it or hugging it to their chests. When they take a garment, another grows in its place. I touched a shirt on one of the piles. All the fabric is damp and smells of mildew, enough to turn my stomach, but no one else seemed to notice or care.

The girl trudged along, and as she walked, she began to strip off her dress. My cheeks burned, but I could not look away. She left it lying in a pile behind her and stood in her flimsy undergarments before a dress form. On it began to grow another gown, with lace like dark-edged weeds hanging from the sleeves. It was hideous, but as it unfurled, the girl began to bounce on her heels, her fingers twitching.

She peeled it from the form and pulled it onto her body, and for a moment, she was still, like this new dress had fixed her, and it had been what she needed. She stood a little straighter as she walked out of the store, and I trailed her as she returned to her apartment. But by the time she reached her building, she was crying, and her hands had begun to flutter around the skirt, the bodice, her hair and face.

I watched her again last night, pacing past the window. At some point, I will need to sleep, and patrol, and do my job, but I cannot stop watching.

Day 1253

I did manage a patrol this afternoon, but as I returned for the night, I saw the girl go into her building, wearing a new dress but already looking as if she’d realized it wasn’t going to be enough. I trailed her in and up the stairs, her moldy dress swishing and slapping the steps as she ascended.

I followed her all the way into her apartment. I can, because I am a Guard, and I can enter any residence, even if it is occupied. Perhaps tonight I abused that power, because I stood in her living room and watched as she paced.

"I could help you," I told her. Wild thoughts and ideas came to me, how perhaps I could take her to Raphael, or to the Sanctum, how I could usher her inside, how she could see the sun, how she wouldn’t need those sad, stained dresses anymore. But I have had enough experience with both Raphael and the Judge to know it is unlikely either of them would have mercy on this girl.

So there I was, saying, “I could help you. I want to help you.” And there she was, walking back and forth. Until she stopped, and she turned to me. For a moment, she blinked, like she saw me, and it stole my breath, because no one in this city does that. “I could help—” I began.

She started to scream. She screamed and screamed and screamed, and I stumbled back, my heart racing. I fled the apartment and the door slammed shut behind me, and I stood in the hall until her screams fell silent.

When I returned to my apartment, she had resumed her pacing.

Day 1422

The map is growing. I've sketched and plotted the area from the eastern wall to southeast of downtown, about three dozen blocks north and south on either side. A small portion of the city, but a major achievement for me. One problem, though: I noticed this morning that there is a new street eight blocks s/sw of the pagoda cluster west of the Station. It grew out of nowhere, and now there is a tower rising from the mud.

Day 1437

The tower s/sw of the pagoda cluster is 37 stories high at last count. Takeshi says that whoever lurks inside must be desperate. It takes so much want to generate something of that size. It is hideous and dark, and I do not see how it could provide comfort to anyone. I see these things every day, though. A few weeks ago, I ran across a man who'd grown himself a library. When I stepped close to read some of the titles, he attacked me, slapping at my arms with weak, skinny-fingered hands. "You don't have a library card!" he screamed.

I left him alone to guard his books. I could not help but wonder if what he needed was to share them.

Day 1589

We received word that two Guards were ambushed in an area s/sw of downtown. They repelled the attack, but not without injuries. One of them, Akram, was blinded, and Raphael has gone ahead to heal him. Takeshi was grim as he gave me the news.

"Bring your knives," he said. "I have a bad feeling."

Until then, I'd had a good feeling—not about the Guards' injuries, but about the possibility that we might be close to finding the Mazikin nest. It's been too long since we had any good leads. I'm not sure what's spooked Takeshi, but he's spent a lot of time in that area southwest of downtown, so perhaps he'll fill me in on his concerns as we travel.

Day 1591

“They have a leader,” Takeshi said to me. “Or an organizer, at least. I killed him many years ago, but I believe he has returned to the city and is in charge of them now.”

We were sitting on the roof of an apartment building thirty-seven blocks south of the giant pyramid, which looms at the southwestern edge of downtown. Our meager rations of stale bread and staler water were gone, and we were passing the time between patrols. I asked him how he knew.

“He is the one who sets the traps,” Takeshi said. “He’s the cleverest Mazikin I’ve ever encountered. If we can destroy him, we’ll have a chance of ridding the city of the creatures. Only if we can do that, though.”

“But you’ve defeated him before.”

“Only after he defeated me.” He lifted his shirt to reveal a puckered scar just below his armpit. “From my own knife. You have to keep him at a distance.”

“Does he have a name?”

Takeshi’s dark eyes met mine. “He calls himself Sil.”

Day 1600

Akram is healed, but Raphael could not restore the vision in his right eye. They left this morning to go to the Sanctum, where Akram will see the Judge and be retired. I do not know what that means exactly, and Raphael would not tell me. Akram seemed somewhat nervous, though.

Before they departed, Akram gave us a report of what happened; he was patrolling alone in a square approximately seven blocks to the west of our current location when he witnessed one person drag another down an alley. He knew immediately it was a Mazikin and pursued, but two more were waiting in an alcove and jumped on him as he entered the alley. One had a broken bottle and sliced at Akram’s face before he was able to break its neck. Firas, another of the Guards, was ambushed in a similar manner a few blocks away, but easily dispatched the Mazikin before they seriously injured him and was able to come to Akram’s aid.

Takeshi said he had personally killed Sil in the ambush on Day 798, but this type of Mazikin behavior indicates they have brought him back.

Day 1614

"He knows we're here," Takeshi said to me as we returned to the apartment where we've been staying. I track the weak gray sun as it arcs over the darkness, marking each time it descends in the west, but even so, the weeks bleed together. Each day, we patrol a different section of this part of the city, but we have not seen any sign of Mazikin at all.

I asked him if he thinks they have left the area, but he said he suspects they are still here, only hiding. We'll have to try new strategies if we want to draw them out.

Day 1616

When Takeshi said he had another strategy, I had no idea it would involve tossing me out a window. And yet, that is exactly what happened yesterday.

"Why don't you jump out the window?" I asked.

"Because I have better aim than you do."

It was all part of the plan, he promised. Me, an injured Guard, alone on the sidewalk. It would draw Sil, he promised. It would be worth it, he promised. Then he shoved me out of the second floor apartment window. My ankle and wrist snapped on impact. My head bounced off the concrete. I lost consciousness.