11. Home Base

Warm light spilled out of the Sunset’s saloon doors, wide open at this late hour to offer an embrace to all the scum of this world. I led the group of five—no, four—around to the back, down a narrow alley populated only by a few idiots too drunk to remember, trash, and rats. What’s the pattern again? One, two, three, one?

I bit my lip, then shook my head and hammered on the back door. “Open up! It’s me!”

Behind me, Ace shifted Milton on his shoulders. Milton stirred, half-awake.

Tanya yanked the door open. “I swear, Kit, the front fucking door—”

At the sight of the bloodied and battered troupe, she fell silent. Her eyes hesitated on Ace, taking in the bloodsoaked robes, then flinched over to Vi, sobbing silently behind Edmund.

“Is the bolthole open?” I asked.

“Mmm. Straight up the ladder. Don’t set a foot in the tavern tonight.”

“Copy, boss.” I saluted and pushed past her. She held the door open as the rest of us filtered in, Edmund shocked, Vi dripping tears, Ace poker-faced, slightly annoyed at Milton’s waking.

“Wha… what’s happening,” Milton muttered.

The door slammed shut. Tanya led us into a walk-in pantry and jumped up, reaching the ten-foot ceiling with startling ease. Catching ahold of what looked like another notch in the wood, she yanked open a trap door. A ladder spilled out, clanking down in sections.

“Kids first. Milton, climb the ladder. We’ll fill you in when we get up.” I hovered, waiting while everyone ascended.

“Do I want to know?” Tanya deadpanned.

I twisted my lips. “Probably not, but I’ll tell you anyways. The hunt attracted unwanted attention. We’ve got flies on our ass.”

“What kind of flies?”

“The fancy kind. Elegant, even.” I raised my eyebrows at her.

Tanya grimaced. “If the army comes down on me, I’ll rat you out in an instant. I like my establishment the way it is, as it so happens. Un-burned, un-looted.”

“Got it. Listen, they shouldn’t press past the forest. It’s the cultists I’m worried about.”

“Cultists?” Tanya asked, eyebrows lifting higher. “What kind of fresh hell have you broken into?”

“Look, just let me know if you see freaks in all white, maybe like, four corners on a white sheet mask, alright? They didn’t follow us here, that I know. As long as everyone lays low, there ought to be no heat on your tavern.”

“How long?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No idea.”

Tanya narrowed her eyes at me.

“B…but, I’ll get them out of here within the week. Don’t want to stay too long at any one bolthole, haha. Better if they move on, anyways. Right? Right.”

She nodded up the ladder. “Hurry. I need to get back to the front. Rowdy night, with Quetz and all.”

I nodded and scrambled up the ladder all quick-like. At the top, I turned back and pulled it up after me. Connected by a rope to one of the higher rungs, the trap door swung up after it. With a yank, I shut it.

Leaving me trapped in a tiny wooden box with four people I barely knew.

“Uh, hey,” I started, reaching for the cards again.

“Mom is dead?” Milton shouted, staring at Vi.

Vi burst into tears and collapsed to her knees.

Edmund stared at the wall, a million miles away.

Backed in the corner, Ace ran his fingers through his hair, then gave it a vigorous shake, sending flakes of blood flying across the room.

I slowly dropped my hand from the cards. Yep, that’s not going to help right now.

“No. Mom can’t be dead. This—this is a joke. It has to be,” Milton mumbled. He whirled on Vi. “Stop joking! It isn’t funny!”

“She’s dead, Milton! She’s dead, and it’s your fault!” Vi shouted.

Someone hammered on the wall. An out-of-breath man shouted, “Keep it down! We’re busy!”

“What?” Milton stumbled back.

Vi stomped toward him. “If you hadn’t had to ask, if you’d just put your hands over your ears, she wouldn’t have stopped! She wouldn’t have gotten shot!”

“I—”

“It’s your fault! All your fault!” Vi charged at Milton, fists swinging.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Everyone, let’s calm down here, okay? Deep breaths.” I caught Vi before she could hit Milton.

She stared up at me, lip trembling, tears thick in her eyes. “It’s all his fault!”

“It isn’t. Well, okay, maybe a little,” I allowed.

Milton let out a sound somewhere between a huff and a scream. He stomped on the trapdoor. It fell open, ladder clanking out one section at a time. In a flash, he vanished down the ladder and out into the bar.

“Fucking… Edmund, make sure your other kid doesn’t make a break for it, okay?” I pushed Vi at him. Numbly, he caught her.

I charged down the ladder after Milton. “Hey! You! Trying to die?”

He whirled on me. Tears streaked from reddened eyes, trailing paths down his face. “I—I can’t do nothing!”

“Yes, you can. Especially if you like living. Get back up in that hole, right now, or so help me—”

He shoved past me and ran into the night.

I stared after him. Looked down at my hands. Back at the exit. “Well, that’s one idiot who’s made a decision.” I started back for the bolthole.

I barely took a step before my conscience pinged. You promised. You said you’d keep them safe, forever.

“Forever’s lasted a hell of a lot longer than I thought it would,” I grumbled.

“I’m counting on you, Kit.”

My feet stopped. I groaned aloud. “Seriously?”

I turned, sighing at myself. I’m just too good-natured. My heart is too pure for my own good. “Alright, come back here, kid.”

Milton hadn’t gotten far. He stood in the alley, eyes darting to either end, uncertain which direction to go. When I stepped out, he bolted, but I caught up in a few long strides. “Where are you going?”

“I—I don’t know! To avenge Mom? I—”

“Look at you. You don’t have a weapon, you aren’t dressed for the desert, I mean, hell, you’ve never handled a core in your life. How are you going to get vengeance?”

He blinked. “I…”

I gestured and walked away. “Come with me. Let’s get you a gun.”

“Wh—what?” Milton stopped dead, eyes wide.

“Don’t want it?” I asked, peering over my shoulder.

“I—I want it!” He ran after me, eyes shining. After a second, a vicious light took over the excitement, but I pretended not to notice.

Around the corner, the gunsmith awaited us. The proprietress stood outside, drawing her grates down for the night. Short and stubby, dressed in more shades of pink than I’d thought existed, she looked like a rolly-polly ball of fluff, but looks could be deceiving. She had the quickest hands around and an impeccable instinct for chitech and all its intricacies and quirks that was unlike anyone I’d ever met before. If Piper was an option, I trusted Cher to no one else.

At the sight of us, she sighed. “Ah, Kit. Cher acting up again? Sorry, but I’m closing. Come back tomorrow?”

“It’s kind of urgent,” I said.

She swept her fluffy pink hair over one shoulder and looked us up and down. “Where’d the kids come from? Kit, you…”

Kids? Plural? I looked around me. Milton stood just over my right shoulder, as though afraid I’d forget my promise if he moved more than five feet from me. And just behind me on the left, Ace stared back, big eyes wide, dark hair draping past his nose, ragged and still reddened with blood. He’d had the good sense to ditch the bloodstained robes, but the black he wore underneath reddened suspiciously around the knees.

“When did you sneak out?” I asked him.

He shrugged and tossed his hair out of his face. It slid back a second later.

Piper squinted at me. “When did you have the time to pop them out?”

I rolled my eyes. “They aren’t mine. Honestly, you’d think a chitech engineer would have a better understanding of biology.”

“I understand beast biology. Did you know the five-point goat can birth a thousand children in a split second if it feels threatened? More accurately clones than children, since they’re produced asexually, but still. They all die in a few seconds, exhaust the goat’s core, and lower the goat’s life expectancy, but they’re part of why the five-point goat is one of our domesticated beasts… in short, they were too annoying to kill off, so we farmed them instead, and what a success that was!”

“I did not. Thank you, Piper, you’ve educated me today.” I gave her a formal nod.

“But anyways, the shop’s closed, so.” She reached up on her tiptoes to grab the bottom of the grate.

“Special favor?”

“You called that in last time.”

I inched closer to her. Slipping my hand into my coat, I offered her a handful of mana crystals. “Fresh today.”

“You know the freshness of the crystal has nothing to do with the quality of the mana, that’s a common myth. And I’m not tempted. I’m tired, and I want to sleep.”

I bit my lip. What else do I have? I’ve offered her everything.

The grate rattled, falling steadily downward. I reached out and caught it. “No, wait, I’m thinking.”

“I’m closing, Kit. Closed. Come back tomorrow.”

Glancing left and right, I gestured her closer. She gave me a tired look, but obliged.

“I didn’t want to resort to this. But listen… I went to the forest earlier, you get me?”

She furrowed her brows. “I heard that there was a hunt. Poor Quetz…”

I pulled my coat open, giving her a glimpse of the golden core within. “Poor Quetz.”

Her eyes widened. She glanced from the core, to me, and back again. “No. No way.”

“Shh, shh. Keep it quiet. I’ll let you examine it to your heart’s content. All you have to do is open up shop.”

Piper sighed. “Kit. I hate you.”

“So… will you…” I waggled my eyebrows.

She bent her knees and shoved. The grate receded upward, until it was high enough for most of us to walk through. Grudgingly, she unlocked the door and shoved it open. “I really hate you.”

“I know, I know.” I led the kids in, trying not to look too gleeful.

Walls cluttered with guns. Cores glowing dimly in the dark. Piper slapped the wall, and the overhead lights cut on with a buzz. I glanced up. Tiny bugs darted around in glass jars. Cores as small as the bugs laid in a small pile at the bottom of the jar, most of them bright, but a few dark with age.

“What—what are those?” Milton asked, wide-eyed.

“You’ve never seen firefly lights before? Simple. Put a bunch of fireflies in a jar. When they die, their cores collect at the bottom. Run some mana through them, and they light up. Easy peasy. Even I understand it,” I said proudly.

“You’re leaving out the bits where the jars are a perfect environment for the fireflies to produce usable cores, being completely isolated from the world. Oh, and the bit where the fireflies usually die in a week or two, because you can’t feed them. It doesn’t escape the law of cores, either—cores usually don’t outlast their creator’s lived lifespan, so you need more fireflies every so often.” Piper put her hands on the counter and hopped behind the register, stubby legs barely clearing the glass display.

Too cute! Those little legs—I shook my head. I didn’t come here to play with Piper. Not today, anyways.

“Anyways, Piper, I’m looking for something small. Nonlethal. Won’t cause a crime if it’s used as a toy, that kind of nonlethal.”

She gave me a dead look. “Go home.”

“No, seriously, Piper—”

“You made me open the shop for that?”

I leaned in close. “It’s important.”

“You’re going to give it to one of the kids, aren’t you,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“Er… maybe?”

She put her face in her hands. “Go home.”