397: Proper Procedures (Patreon)

Bones led them into the mismatched lanes of the market, all ramshackle stalls and patchy tents, the statue’s glow shining like a beacon in the distance.

‘Come, come and buy!’ cried a voice, a ghoulish, grinning undead leaning forward over its stall, which was covered in a dirty pile of what looked an awful lot, to Nicolai, like literal trash. ‘Much for sale, many treasures!’

Junko apparently didn’t feel the same way as she headed over. ‘What do you have here?’ she asked.

‘Precious things,’ wheezed the undead, pulling free a rusty necklace. ‘You have Soul coins?’

‘She does not,’ said Yue firmly to the undead, pulling Junko away.

Many other traders were eyeing them hopefully, and there came a few more calls. ‘Nothing good here,’ said Bones dismissively, pressing forward. ‘Statue’s this way.’

‘Those coins you gave the kid,’ asked Nicolai, looking to Yue. ‘What are they, and why does everyone want them?’

Bones looked back, grinning. ‘What keeps Bones so handsome, that’s what.’

‘These undead, once separate from the People’s methods, need a source of spiritual energy to sustain themselves,’ said Yue. ‘Without it, their forms begin to degrade. Thus, Soul Coins are their preferred currency.’

‘Yep. You see how all these traders look so disgusting?’ said Bones.

‘I… probably wouldn’t put it like that,’ replied Junko.

‘It’s ’cause they didn’t get enough, some time recent. They ran low, and it takes a pretty long time to heal,’ said Bones. Then he grinned wide, displaying all the gaps in his teeth, but also the fact that those which remained were in fairly good repair, with gums that looked nearly alive. ‘Bones got like that once, long ago, but he knows what he’s doing now. And he doesn’t need so many coins as other undead, owing to his small stature. That’s why Bones looks so good!’

The kid did have a point, Nicolai reflected. Compared to most of them, Bones was remarkably well preserved.

‘Where do the coins come from?’ asked Serrin.

‘Oh, it’s easy,’ said Bones, shifting his walk to sidle a few steps closer to Junko, shooting her an eager look. ‘Any living being with a Soul can make them, if they want to. Even you, pretty lady!’

‘If they know the technique,’ said Yue. ‘I made a few before we set off.’

‘So we can literally just make money?’ asked Junko in shock, apparently oblivious to the hopeful look Bones was giving her.

‘Maybe we ought to stick around here a bit longer,’ spoke up Maverick, grinning. ‘I like the sound of this.’

‘There is a cost,’ warned Yue. ‘Making a coin uses a small piece of your Soul, and it takes time for it to recover. If you don’t give it that time and keep making more, you will scar your Soul.’

‘That’s right,’ said Bones cheerfully. ‘Happens to some of the fleshies here. Those who fall on hard times get their Souls all full of ruts.’ And he pointed to a figure staggering down the narrow lane toward them. ‘Just look at this guy.’

This guy was a hulking, muscular, furry creature with big claws and sharp teeth, guzzling from a bottle of who-knew-what as he staggered past them, emanating a foul smell. His Soul was all hanging out, easily perceptible, and it was full of holes and scars.

‘Poor creature,’ said Junko, looking back after the creature pityingly.

‘What the hell was that thing?’ muttered Marlo, shaking his head in disgust.

‘Is it common for the living to end up like that here?’ asked Yue.

‘Not that common,’ said Bones. ‘It only happens when someone really loses their way.’ He looked up to Junko again. ‘Not something you guys need to worry about, I bet you’d barely even notice if you made a few coins. All of you have got loads of free Soul stuff that you’re hardly even using. Nah, living have it good here,’ he continued. ‘Us free undead are the ones who have it tough. If we don’t get those Soul coins, well, it doesn’t go well for us. Still—’ and he straightened, proud. ‘Bones wouldn’t trade it for anything. You’ll never find him going back to the People.’ And he spat a rather dry lump of spittle onto the ground. ‘Bloody slavers.’

‘But you appear to be of the People yourself,’ said Serrin.

Bones made a face, rubbed at the line on his forehead, an undeveloped third eye. ‘Guess Bones was. A long time ago. Not any more, though. Nah. Bones reckons he’s better off how he is. Might not be an easy life, but us free undead are proud that we’ve even got one. No time to be worrying about the odd fleshy with a rutted Soul.’

‘How did you get free? You and everyone else here?’ asked Junko.

Bones looked back at her, eyes surprisingly canny. ‘Well, that’s a long story. Too long to tell here and now, but Bones’ll tell you one thing: he’s glad to be free. It’s awful having some overbearing lord always telling you what to do.’

‘Tell me about it,’ said Serrin glumly.

Nicolai gave Serrin a rather sharp look, not entirely sure whether the Hornet was talking about his mother or Nicolai himself.

‘Are there many places like this, then?’ asked Junko. ‘Or is this the only one?’

‘Loads!’ Bones flung his arms out, sleeves flapping. ‘There are free towns all over the Dead City.’

‘You were able to travel between them?’ asked Serrin. ‘It’s pretty dangerous out there.’

Bones looked up at him, frowning. ‘You think Bones can’t handle himself?’

‘Well, you’re awful small,’ said Serrin.

Bones grinned. ‘That’s true. Well, Bones just hitches a ride on a caravan whenever he feels like seeing somewhere new. There’s often caravans coming along, going between the cities, and us free undead know how to handle the ferals. Every caravan master has their own way of making sure everything stays safe.’

‘What about the living?’ asked Junko. ‘Like that, uh, being back back there. How do they get here?’

‘Exiles, mostly. A lot of People, or those who worked for ’em.’ Bones shrugged. ‘Easy to upset someone important out in the proper cities. And if you piss off a noble, only thing to do is move on quick. We don’t see too many exiles here. More in the bigger cities.’

‘Lantern isn’t considered big?’ asked Serrin.

Bones laughed. ‘Lantern? Nah, Lantern’s tiny. There’s cities out there ten times the size.’ He shook his head, tapped his nose knowingly. ‘But Bones wouldn’t recommend them. Too much competition. Too many other urchins and gangs. Nah, it’s better here, overall.’

Junko reached over and straightened his collar. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Stay here, and stay safe.’

‘You know, it is kind of nice here,’ added Serrin, looking around in a way that made Nicolai think he was smiling.

‘Right,’ said Junko. ‘Nice to finally be out of all the horror out there, in a place of real people. Friendly people.’

‘I don’t trust ‘em,’ said Marlo, and he did his own spitting, hacking up a glob onto the ground. ‘And neither should you.’

‘Agreed,’ said Nicolai, choosing to break his silence to speak the obvious, and Serrin looked to him.

‘Ignore the grumpy old men,’ said Junko, and Serrin laughed.

Marlo snorted and shook his head, then glanced over at Nicolai, who shrugged back. And for just a moment, they understood each other, both surrounded by naive fools determined to ignore reality.

They were in good spirits when they reached the heart of the plaza, Junko and Serrin and Bones joking around with one another, laughing over some other idiocy Junko had uttered, and there they paused, to stare at something of a commotion. Here the statue rose huge and looming from a great plinth, and at its foot an undead was flailing around in desperation, screaming and yelling.

‘Soul coins,’ he gurgled. ‘Please, Soul coins, someone.’ He caught at the coat of a passing undead.

But the other undead turned, disgust clear on his jerky-like features, and kicked the beggar in the head.

‘I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m losing—’ mumbled the undead, grabbing at his head and screaming. And now there was a rapidly expanding circle around him as he frothed and flailed, growling and gibbering.

Bones sighed. ‘Another one,’ he said. ‘Oh well.’

‘Clear the way, clear the way!’ came a yell and the stomping of feet as a train of armoured undead came marching around the plinth, led by one who stood head and shoulders above the rest.

He was a wolf, or once had been. A huge, undead, humanoid wolf. In fact, he looked remarkably similar to various depictions of werewolves in media over the years, except this undead werewolf was clad in heavy armour and had slung over his back a huge double-headed battleaxe of dark grey metal with an excessively long handle, scored with faint inscriptions. An Artifact, based on the emanations, and therefore—in Nicolai’s eyes—by far the most interesting thing about the creature. It was the kind of weapon that looked capable of cutting through multiple men without stopping, and he hungered to wield it, struggled to pull his eyes from it. He forced himself to refocus on the wielder. Unlike most of the dead they’d seen, the wolfman looked almost alive, with full fur and bright yellow eyes. It was only through looking very closely that Nicolai caught the greyness of his gums and the stillness of his chest. His Soul, when Nicolai brushed it, was brimming with energy. This particular undead was very well fed.

Four of the guards stepped smartly forward set to beating the screeching beggar with the butts of their polearms. Once they’d knocked all the fight, and most of the teeth, out of him they held him down and began to bind him.

Their lupine commander paid little attention. His eyes were on Nicolai, Junko, Serrin, and all the rest of them.

‘That’s what happens to any undead who doesn’t get enough Soul coins,’ Bones was saying glumly, his eyes on the figure being tied up. ‘Goes mad. Feral. He’s gonna be tossed over the walls, down to join the legions of the mad ones. Shame, but—’

‘But those are the rules,’ called the commander as he approached, lips peeling back to reveal rows of unnecessarily large teeth. ‘The very rules that keep Lantern safe.’

They all looked over at him, Bones giving a guilty start.

‘Yes, indeed. Lantern is safe!’ cried the wolf, with a grand gesture up at the statue, its orange glow gleaming on his teeth. ‘A welcoming light in the dark wilderness of the Dead City, free from the feral ones, protected and under control. Because of the rules. And so I take our rules very seriously.’ He laid a fatherly hand on Bones’s shoulder, claws curling gently, and the urchin’s eyes rounded. ‘Such as that new arrivals should be reported to the relevant authorities. The gate guards have clearly been lax, though I suppose it has been quite some time since we had visitors quite like you. Still, that’s no excuse. I’ll have to be demonstrative.’ His grin widened, as though he were rather looking forward to the demonstration. ‘Fortunately, good citizen Bones here’—he smiled down at the nervous urchin—‘knows to do his duty.’

‘That’s right,’ said Bones, nodding hurriedly. ‘Was coming right to see you, Commander Harrow. That’s where Bones was leading ’em, actually.’

‘Of course you were.’ Harrow gave the shoulder a squeeze, and Bones winced. ‘Run along now.’

Bones didn’t need telling twice. He ducked out from under the claws and was gone into the crowd, without even a glance back. Nicolai nodded approvingly as he watched the “child” go.

Those guards who weren’t dragging the bound beggar away had drifted over, spreading out to form a loose ring, grips tightening on their polearms. Eleven of them, all merely Tier 1; only Harrow was Tier 2. No real threat, and in fact Nicolai was slightly disappointed by the pitiful showing.

‘And, fortunately, I was here,’ added Harrow, smiling still. ‘So fear not, visitors! You will go through proper procedures!’

‘And what do these proper procedures involve?’ growled Maverick, scowling at the wolfman, while Marlo shifted from foot to foot, fists balled and features twitching.

‘Nothing to get your hackles up over, I assure you!’ said Harrow, spreading his clawed hands—just as the crowd parted behind the guards and those same hulking shapes Nicolai had earlier observed lounging around the dome strode into view.

More wolves, Tier 2, just like Harrow, sleek-furred, bushy-tailed, and with the same air of thuggish good nature and lazy menace. They filtered out from the crowd and took up positions amongst the other guards. One stood slouched with a war hammer resting on his shoulder, another with his hips jutting forwards like a cowboy, hands resting on the hilts of a pair of sheathed knives. One more stopped only a few feet from Nicolai and grinned at him, planting the butt of his spear between a crack in the tiles and leaning on it.

Around Nicolai, the others stiffened. Yue stilled, Junko edging closer to her. Serrin began to raise his spear, but froze when Harrow’s bright yellow eyes snapped over to it.

‘Ah-ah,’ murmured Harrow, wagging a claw. ‘Let’s keep this civil, shall we? We’re all friends here.’

‘I knew it,’ spat Marlo over Local. ‘Fucking undead. We shouldn’t have followed that kid.’

Just about all of the weapons carried by these wolves were Artifacts, primarily Tier 2, said Threat Analysis, and Nicolai’s breath came a little faster. None of them looked quite so fine as that axe, but still, there was rather a lot of wealth standing around him, begging to be seized. These things would have Symbiotes too, and though they’d probably be disciplined enough to destroy them the moment they were slain, you never knew. Serious opposition, but this time there were actually things to be won, and he found himself more eager to kill than ever. It was an effort to restrain himself.

‘Nicolai?’ Serrin asked over Local. ‘Do we fight?’

He wanted to lunge forward, put his knife in the throat of the spearman and kick things off. But that wouldn’t be very reasonable.

‘I don’t know. I’m not the leader,’ replied Nicolai, tossing his hands up. The sharp look these words attracted from Junko was almost satisfying enough to make up for the fact they were standing here talking rather than killing the wolves.

‘We do not,’ said Yue. ‘Not after a day’s travel, and not knowing the first thing about this place.’

‘Yes, nobody do anything stupid,’ said Junko.

Marlo’s eyes were flicking from wolf to wolf, face twisted up in a sneer. ‘We can take ’em,’ he said.

Maverick was letting out a low rumble. ‘Fighting in the middle of a market ain’t a good idea. I’ve been involved in that kind of thing before. I won’t be able to properly let loose here. There’s too many people around.’

‘They’re not people,’ said Marlo, which caused Nicolai to let out an appreciative chuckle.

‘We’re not fighting,’ snapped Junko.

‘They might not give us a choice,’ said Maverick, eyeing the nearest wolf. Out loud, he barked, ‘You still didn’t answer the question, big guy. What procedures?’

‘My apologies,’ said Harrow, and he sank down to one knee, beaming at Maverick. ‘You are honoured to receive an invitation to meet our grand ruler, little cousin. He’ll be ever so delighted to meet you.’