The Lostkind (15 page)

~oo00oo~

"So. The question on the table. Do we involve Vincent in this?" Keeper said crisply. "Whatever it is. We don't know what the big deal about Owen Niklos is, but it's something. We've already agreed that until he actually does something of concern, we're just going to keep an eye on him. So; do we enlist Vincent to help us again."

"There's no doubt he's in a good position to keep an eye on Owen. And since he's supposed to be there, there's very little chance that his attentions will be noticed." Yasi said. "I vote yes."

"And I vote no." Keeper said. "The more connections between Vincent and us, the more danger we are all in. Him included."

Archivist was the deciding vote, and he looked solemnly at Yasi. "Yasi, you know I care about you. I get that he's your friend, which is a not so minor miracle, but Keeper's right. If Owen is connected to anything involving us, then the fact that he took a job so close to a friend of yours is bad on many levels. Make a clean break, and maybe Owen loses interest. If not in whatever he's doing, then maybe in Vincent at least."

The vote was two to one, and Yasi took it stoically. "I'll have to get some other eyes on Niklos then."

The two elder Lostkind nodded and the meeting broke up. Archivist followed Yasi, waiting until they had their privacy.

She looked back at him once they were alone. "Something else?"

"You changed the subject with Keeper, but you didn't answer her question." He rumbled. "She and I have looked the other way so far because we're willing to treat you like an adult, but after what we learned tonight... Yasi, if this was anyone else..."

Yasi looked up challengingly. "'If this was anyone else what?' If it was anyone but me, what would you do?"

"Me?" Archivist responded with dull amusement. "Nothing.
You're
the Gatekeeper; not me. If anyone else in the Underside had a connection to a city planner, to someone who was friends with our Watchers, and apparently was comfortable enough to get our Eyes together for a personal mission... What would you say to them?"

Yasi looked down. "I would tell them to knock it the hell off before they brought all of New York down on our heads."

Archivist nodded. "Yes. You would."

Yasi's face hardened, echoing the familiar refrain. "The First Duty of the Shinobi is to Protect the Secret."

Archivist softened. "For what it's worth... I like seeing you like this. You skipped the rebellious phase so completely, I was starting to worry about you."

They walked in silence a moment, approaching the Twelfth Level. "I love you Yasi. I want you to be happy. And I don't think badly of Vincent. Wotcha sang his praises to me too. He's a good guy. But he's not one of us."

Yasi nodded without complaint. "I know. It's my job, it's what I do."

"When it gets dark, you can go back up." Archivist said seriously, but kindly. He was telling a hard truth to her, and breaking it gently. "Give him the news. And say goodbye."

FIVE: The Three Rules

"You look awful."

Vincent yawned again. "Mm. You're in the ICU, and you get to judge?"

Gill chuckled. "Another few days and I can get outta here."

Vincent reached into his bag and pulled out a burger. "Brought a little medically unapproved contraband for you."

"Ohh, my hero." Gill was thrilled. His hands were free for the first time and he happily unwrapped the burger. "Been stuck on hospital food for three days. That's seventy two hours of salt and grease you don't ever get back."

Vincent smiled tightly. It was the same old Gill. He hadn't changed. He'd tried to kill himself earlier in the week and he hadn't changed a bit.

Gill took a bite and read his friend's face. "I hud gut-"

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Vincent swatted him.

Gill swallowed. "I'm okay." He said gently. "It was a mistake. One that I lived to never make again. They took the cuffs off, they took me off the watch. I'm okay."

Vincent nodded. "I'm glad. But I feel... No, not responsible. But I can remember when I would have noticed."

Gill rolled his head back painfully. "You remember you said that when I show up on your doorstep with an overnight bag next week."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for obvious reasons I don't have a lot of savings. I can't imagine I can just show up back at work like nothing happened." He looked at Vincent. "They've already given my job away, haven't they?"

Vincent sighed. "There's someone there. Officially, he's a temp. Just till you recover."

"Oh come on. Don't kid a kidder." Gill scoffed. "I'm damaged goods now." He said it with detached calm, but Vincent could sense the deep regret underneath.

Vincent bit his lip. "I'll see what I can do."

~oo00oo~

Davidson held up both hands, placating him. "Vincent, I don't have a problem with Gill. Everyone's got their problems, and I don't think anyone should be punished for them. But he tried it
here
. He did it in the staff only bathroom. He was found by one of the reception staff!"

"He's got some bridges to build, I don't deny it." Vincent said. "But if he never comes back... none of the others will get past what happened either."

"That's thin, and you know it."

"Maybe." Vincent conceded. "You just said you don't think people should be punished for their problems. He screwed up, no mistake, but it was because of something personal, not professional. His private life..."

"Stops being private when he tries to kill himself on company property. Y'know, we all knew he gambled too much."

"So did I." Vincent conceded.

Davidson sighed. "Does he want to come back?"

"Yes."

"Is he willing to clean up his act?"

"I've already got him into Gamblers Anonymous. His problems are not unique. If anything's going to give you a little clarity on your life, it'd be waking up in hospital." Vincent nodded, sensing victory.

Davidson licked his lips. "Well, Owen's good, but he's here as an intern. He's looking to gain points on the college transcript."

"Little old for college." Vincent was surprised.

"Not by much. I think he went back to school to get another degree." Davidson considered. "Well, we can afford to keep them both on. I don't imagine Owen will want to stay forever."

Vincent was about to answer when his cell phone rang. "Hello?"

"Vincent, it's Connie here." A familiar voice called. "I hate to keep calling you, but Lizbeth called in sick..."

Vincent sent his boss a glance, and Davidson nodded, ducking out. Their business was concluded anyway, and Vincent sat down at his desk, lowering his voice a bit. "She always does on Fridays. She's not sick, she's going clubbing." He said. "A little obvious, but it's hard to snap at volunteers for not being generous enough in their time."

"I hear that." Connie nodded. "Right now it's me; and you know things can get when you're here on your own."

Vincent was smiling at her voice but didn't know why exactly. "See you at six thirty?"

"I'll keep your seat warm."

~oo00oo~

Yasi made her way through the Labyrinth as normal, when she heard a noise coming from the darkness. She was familiar with all the sounds that her home could produce, and there were plenty of them. Steam moving underground through pipes, concrete settling because of the temperature, rats crawling along... This was something else, and she had to take a look. Pulling out her Lantern, she crept up on it, edging around the corner.

The lantern flared into life; as Yasi caught a glimpse of something moving, a flash of metal, and she just reacted, her reflexes making her strike out.

Her fist struck something, and she heard a grunt of pain. The shape moved again, hard to define in the light that was flashing around crazily.

Yasi felt herself get taken in a tackle, and bent with it, wrestling her attacker to the ground. He was surprisingly strong, and as agile as she was. Whoever he was, he'd been trained.

He was fast, she was faster. She shifted backward like a dancer, moving just out of reach as he swiped at her, both of them moving more on instinct than sight. The second his fist passed by her, she pounced forward and let loose a flurry of short fast jabs, high then low, then high again, too fast for him to block, too many for him to handle. It was a technique she had used in battle before, and there were few who could stand up to it. The mysterious warrior fell back, and Yasi let out a heavy spin kick.

Dorcan came running down the tunnel behind her. "I heard..." He noticed the motionless body on the ground. "Who's that?"

"I don't know." Yasi admitted. "But you got great timing; I'd hate to have to drag him back alone."

Dorcan picked up the lantern and shone a light on their mysterious guest. "He's Lostkind. Not one of ours, but definitely Lostkind."

Yasi took Dorcan by the wrist and aimed the light lower. "I don't recognize these glyphs."

The warrior was marked with tribal tattoos, similar to Yasi and Dorcan. He was not part of their Secret City, but he was of their world.

~oo00oo~

The Chapel was the Lostkind Hospital. Dozens of sleeping cots in a wide art deco space; though only a few of them were occupied. Hooded figures moved back and forth between the patients, wearing large face-masks that made them all look like enormous birds.

Keeper entered the Chapel at a quick march and traded a nod with the Healers. Yasi and Dorcan were standing over their prisoner.

"He followed me home. Can I keep him?" Yasi quipped brightly.

"Oh, is that all it takes?" Dorcan commented under his breath.

Keeper strode over to check. "What do we have here?"

The unconscious intruder had been tied to the cot; but that didn't bother the Healers, who looked him over from behind their long full-face masks.

"We should post a few Shinobi guards." Dorcan offered. "To make sure he doesn't escape."

"Would be a lot easier if we knew the Healers would watch him outside the Chapel." Yasi commented.

"Y'know, my whole life, I've never got that." Dorcan complained idly. "Why do the Healers never leave this place?"

Yasi shrugged. "It's their way. Why do the Riverfolk always stay below the waterline?"

"Because they know you'll kill them if they come up for air." Dorcan retorted.

"Enough, both of you." Keeper cracked. "We have an Intruder. The first time in our history that we have an Intruder. Look at him, he's not a New Yorker, he's not a tourist... He came here for a reason, and he found a way into the Labyrinth."

"Yeah, but he couldn't find a way
out
of it." Yasi snorted. "I took a look, and he found one of the dead end tunnels. I don't know how long he's been down there, but long enough to get lost, set up a sleeping bag and eat at least three meals."

~oo00oo~

Kamy hummed a Lostkind Lullaby, as Archivist read over her shoulder. "Very good Kamy, your penmanship is improving."

Kamy was gripping the pen tightly, trying to keep her fingers level. The rest of her class had already done this; but Kamy had trouble with her handwriting. "I don't need to know this." She groused, as only a four year old girl could. "Watchers only need this for reports; and I'm not going to be writing reports yet."

"If you go to the surface, you need to know these things." Archivist told her, not for the first time. "Plus, you're far too young."

"I already know where all the entrances to the Labyrinth are in Central Part." Kamy half-whined.

"Park. Central Park." Archivist corrected with affection. "This won't mean anything to you, dear; but I've taught five generations of Lostkind from your age up. Everyone wants to dance with the Upside. But suppose you get lost and can't find Central Park? What other ways home do you know?"

Kamy looked down, not having an answer.

Archivist raised his voice. "Tecca?"

Across the shelves, out of sight; Tecca shouted back. "Yessir?"

Archivist boomed over to him without moving. "Tell me a Midtown Entrance."

"The Empire State Building." Tecca called back without hesitation. "The foundation goes 55 feet below ground, there's a way in hidden there; but you only use it when you're dead sure you aren't seen."

Kamy gave an envious smile, despite herself.

Archivist chuckled. "He's not much older than you Kamy; you've got plenty of time to get in over your head and do crazy irresponsible things. Until then, be patient, help our at the Market; listen to everything the Borrowers don't tell you; and work on your lowercase 'a'; they're a little squashed."

Kamy dutifully picked up the pen again; and Archivist moved past the shelves to the other side of the Whisper Gallery; to join Tecca.

"So, I know my stuff, and I can write okay." Tecca rubbed his eyes painfully as his tutor came over. "Do I have to do this?"