Wraith's Lament, chapter 5: Chapter 1

Of all the situations Prendergast could’ve possibly predicted, ‘crawling through the city sewers to find the stryx mafia’ wasn’t one of them. He resisted the urge to gag as they slogged across an endless path of tunnels and catwalks, with Vita, the silver tabby feravo, leading the way with a wisplight in one paw.

To the untrained, law-abiding eye, one might be forgiven for assuming these tunnels were devoid of life. But here and there were subtle, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it signs of habitation: a fresh torch in this sconce, some wooden planks laid over that gap, even small, intricate symbols scratched into the masonry by a steady claw. The golden chiro, Vesper, seemed to know what they meant; every so often, she’d chitter and point them down a different pipe or a side door.

Prendergast trotted to catch up to her, gritting his beak as he felt his feet squelch and squish into textures.

‘I heard there were giant alligators living down here. Any truth to that?’

‘Don’t worry. That’s just a myth. Any gator that ends up down here would get eaten long before they hit that size.’

‘Oh, phew… wait, what was that last part--’

“Shh!” Vita hissed. She held up her paw and pointed straight ahead, at a looming shadow just around the corner. Prendergast saw a beak, and a single, glowing red eye...

‘YAARGH!’

His companions stumbled back as he charged forward, casque down and ready to slam. The figure squawked out a decidedly-uncorrupted swear, and Prendergast barely pulled his head up seconds before he slammed keelfirst into a corva in a fancy three piece suit. The impact sent them both reeling away, wings and tail flailing as they teetered dangerously close to the sewage stream beside them. Vesper bounded forward and grabbed his tie in her teeth, pulling him back onto the solid stone walkway. The corva snapped his beak at her.

‘Whatchuse think you’re doin’? I’m walkin’ here! An’ look whatchu did to my new tie! Why, I oughta--’

“Aw, Nokt,” Vita muttered to herself, before stepping out into the light. “Sorry, sorry! He’s with me, Nach.”

‘Nach’ narrowed his eyes at Prendergast, but luckily, Decima had had the foresight to remove all his urban cohort regalia beforehand. ‘Aw, ‘ell. First that legio dame, and now Clavata’s new sugar cub? Somethin’ in the water, or?’

‘“Legio dame”?’

‘You didn’t ‘ear? The big cheese ‘erself washed up in the Grand Cistern just hours ago. Still out cold, ‘course, or we’d ‘ave a bigger problem on our claws.’

“He means Kali,” Vita prompted.

General Kali! What was she doing down here? The last time they’d seen her, she’d been overseeing the transport of the corrupted stryx from the docks into Sol’s temporary holding facilities. Whatever the case, they had to rescue her.

Prendergast tried to convey this to Vita with meaningful side eyes, but Nach was looking at him and Vesper, and the chiro’s lips were sealed. He’d have to choose his next words very carefully.

‘Err… that sounds kind of risky. Maybe we should let her go, just to be safe.’ Nailed it.

Vita face-pawed. The corva tilted his head, his tail swishing slowly behind him.

‘Maybe youse better come with me,’ he said, and his tone made it clear that it wasn’t a suggestion.

The little group made their way deeper into the Undersol, taking so many twists and turns that Prendergast was pretty sure Nach was getting them turned around on purpose. As they approached the approximate heart of the city, the narrow sewers began to open up into soaring cisterns spanned by multi-storey catwalks, all piled up with boxes and sacks and microstryx running suspicious satchels in and out of the many side tunnels. One of them fluttered down as they emerged from a major corridor.

‘Nach, I got those forms filled out for-- who-hoah! Who’s tall, pale, and gangly here?’

‘Get Greej down here.’

‘Yessir!’

The microstryx zipped away, and Nach spread his wings and flapped up to the nearest catwalk to stare down at them.

Vita patted a nearby sack with her paw. “Oh, that’s some good quality crumb right there. Mmm-hmm. Gotta be worth seventy thousand at least out on the street.”

‘Quit yer schmoozin’.’

“Yessir.”

A stirring from one of the smaller tunnels, and seconds later, the cistern erupted with an explosion of black feathers. The Undersol stryx mafia spread out across the cistern, each one perching on a section of metal railing, cawing up such a storm that they probably heard it all the way up on the surface. But they all fell silent as a smallish corva emerged on foot, with the most striking blue eyes that Prendergast had ever seen.

‘Nach,’ he called up, in a surprisingly ordinary, unassuming voice. ‘These are the ones who came for the general?’

‘These’s the ones.’

Greej strode up to them and cocked his head down at them. Vita shuffled backwards, prompting a few laughs from the corvas above.

‘Relax, cat, we know better than to mess with Clavata’s ken. This cop-bird, on the other claw…’

The murder was chanting lead jesses and garrottes, but Prendergast stood bold and unmoved.

‘Give me one reason why I shouldn’t toss you to the demon birds right now.’

‘So you do know about them.’

‘Yea, we hear ‘em crashin’ around at night. What’s it to you?’

‘Well, my rider and I helped capture seven of them so far.’

That seemed to give him some pause. The murder was muttering among themselves. Even Vita and her bat seemed surprised.

‘No lie?’

Prendergast shook his head.

‘Maybe we can work something out.’

*

‘These ray-kos. They’re, ahh… bad for bizness, capeesh? No one wants to run slabs anymore. “Ain’t worth gettin’ corrupted”, they say. Cowards.’

After it became clear that nothing violent was going to happen, most of the murder had gotten bored and wandered off back into the sewers. Only a few corvas, presumably the mafia’s inner circle, remained at their perches, watching from above while several microstryx brought out a table and stryx-sized chairs for the negotiations.

‘Where’re my manners? Name’s Grigio Cawleone. Call me Greej. You know Cornacchia. And I know you, Prendergast of the urban cohorts. but I don’t know why you’re here. What is it you want from our world?’

‘We want the same thing as you. To stop these corrupted stryx from hurting anyone.’

‘Same as that general, then. We found her face-down in one of the access tunnels, presumably hit by a rogue wave. Had a few scrapes on her, but she’s stable.’

‘Show us.’

Greej clacked his beak, and an older-looking corva glided down with what looked like a canvas bag in her talons. But as she laid it on the ground, Prendergast realised it was General Kali, wrapped up snugly in a sleeping bag stuffed with soft down and pillows.

‘Don’t get confused,’ Greej said, noticing Prendergast’s surprised expression. ‘Godfeather, down in Blacke? He’s the one who’s all “kill all humans”. Us? We know when someone’s more valuable alive than dead.’

‘What do you want for her?’

‘Tell you what. Get that red-eyed menace out of my tunnels, and the burd’s free to go.’

It sounded too easy. There had to be a catch, a loophole, or something. Everything he and Decima had ever been taught about the stryx mafia contradicted the situation right in front of him.

He looked over at his companions, but Vita and Vesper were nodding along, apparently approving of the terms.

‘Fine. You’ve got a deal.’