Chương 64: Lizards

We walked through the lower city tunnel, and I was awful sure I was still red in the face — whether because of Za'rynn's kiss, or because of the scandalous thing I was wearing. It was Za'rynn's fault all the same! Oh, I looked a proper strumpet. I had to be careful not to look at anybody too long, or they might think I was looking for custom.

But I had worn my belt regardless, with two large pistols and a hunting knife on it, so if any fellow felt inclined to be familiar with me, I should be glad to correct his mistake. As we came to the part of the tunnel where tents and little shacks began to appear, something was plainly different from my last visit. The people weren't frightened of us. I wasn't in a Justicier uniform, and so I wasn't their enemy today.

Instead of hiding, the poor fellows here simply went on with their lives, and looked — well, ordinary. A woman pegged washing along a string strung between two shacks. An old lizard sat on a crate with his snout in a book, licking a claw to turn the page. Children chased one another around a water barrel, shrieking, and very nearly knocked me over. Perfectly normal people. Normal poor people, at any rate.

"Hey, Za'rynn, is that you?" Said a stout woman with a basket of mending on her hip and a baby's shawl over one shoulder.

"Oh, Adèle, it's good to see you," Za'rynn replied, with a warm smile.

"Look at you." Adèle's eyebrows went up at the dress.

"Is that the new cut they wear up top?"

"It is," Za'rynn said, "How are the little ones? Is Mathieu still at the rope-maker's?"

"He is, and he's insufferable about it. Colette asks after you."

"Tell her I'll come and be asked after properly." Adèle looked past her at me.

"And who's your lovely friend? I haven't seen her around."

"Driz— ah. Sophie." I managed a smile.

"We're expected," Za'rynn said.

"Kiss the children for me."

"Kiss them yourself, next time." I looked at Za'rynn strangely. She looked back.

"What?" Za'rynn was a whole new person down here. It almost looked as though she was, to some degree, well… a nice person. By the time we reached the Larksong district market I had forgotten all about my immodesty, and my original mission, and every way Za'rynn had annoyed me that morning. This time nobody threw anything at me.

Instead the merchants were all smiles and held things out as I went by: skewers of something spiced and dripping, paper flowers, glass beads strung on wire, a mirror in a bone frame, bundles of pale mushrooms fried crisp in batter. My head went this way and that and could not settle anywhere. I had a ton of things I wanted to buy, and it was all wonderfully cheap. I decided I would absolutely have to come back in my free time, and bring Henriette too. It would be so much fun!

But then I remembered that I was meant to be on a mission, and had somehow been kidnapped and distracted instead.

"Za'rynn," I said seriously, "where are we actually going? Tell me already!"

"Can't you guess?" she asked, peering into a stall hung with dried little somethings.

"It isn't that hard, and you have clues." I thought about Za'rynn, and what she could possibly actually want from me.

"A party?" I asked.

"It's a party, right?"

"Clearly," she sighed, turning over a strange necklace at the next stall.

"Not the sharpest tooth in the jar."

"Hey!"

"Come now. It isn't far." We walked a bit further through the busy market until we ducked into what looked like a tiny noodle restaurant tucked inside a shabby shack. It seemed we were the only ones there, aside from an old man hunched over the counter.

"Oh, good," I said, perking up.

"I'm in the mood for—""That isn't why we're here," Za'rynn said. She gave the old man a knowing nod; he returned it. Then she took my hand and led me behind the counter, through a back door, into a small room with a wide, open-framed elevator in it. Ah, a secret room! How intriguing! Za'rynn set the crystal into the elevator's bracket. The frame rattled and shook, and we descended. Wait. I think I got it. And I didn't like it at all.

"It's about that criminal," I said accusingly.

"That Lamb fellow you mentioned. You're taking me to him!"

"Ding dong," she said with a smug little smile.

"Ten points for Drizella!" Then the elevator came to a violent stop. Za'rynn moved to get out. I didn't, and caught her hand.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, serious now.

"Undermining your uncle. Azearothiel too. And being a traitor and all!"

"Oh, don't say traitor." She pulled a mournful face.

"The word doesn't suit me at all. I'm simply a young demoness in her rebellious phase."

"But if you get caught, it won't be a spanking for you," I said.

"Azearothiel will have your head on a stick."

"You'd be surprised what a young rich noble can get away with." She winked, and tried to pull me out of the elevator, but I didn't budge.

"But not me," I said.

"I can get into serious trouble, and I actually like my new job!"

"But you wouldn't be doing anything wrong," Za'rynn argued.

"Hearing a man out isn't a crime. And besides, you promised to be nice." I didn't answer, only squinted at her, unconvinced.

"Look," she added, "if it makes you feel better, you could report the whole endeavour to Eulalie or Agustin afterwards. They'd be delighted with useful information about Lamb and the rebels — you could even give them the secret entrance. You'd likely get a commendation out of it. Only… if you do tell, err… feel free to leave me out of the story." I thought about that for a while.

"Fine," I said — more because I was curious than anything else. She led me through a short tunnel, and the short tunnel opened into a wide one. It was dark, and out of the floor grew crystals — long three-sided spears, some no higher than my knee, some a dozen feet tall and thick as trees. A whole forest of them, and the red light from the walls caught in every face and ran down inside the stone. It was very pretty.

"That's really nice!" I said.

"You know, I had a place like this in the cave I lived in—" Wait. Za'rynn wasn't there.

"Ah, Za'rynn…" I said, looking about, peeking behind the crystals.

"This isn't the least bit funny, Za'rynn! You should really—" A tall lizard stepped out from behind a large crystal, aiming a curling bone at me. Shapes moved at the edge of my sight: three more, spreading wide, their weapons level and steady. I raised my hands slowly. I would kill Za'rynn.

"Here." One of them held out a folded black cloth.

"On your head." I hate head coverings! At least this time I wasn't being ridden by a pesky English mouse ordering me about like a pony. Instead a scaly hand took mine, gently enough, and I followed. It wasn't a long walk. Three turns, maybe four, and I heard the squeak and shut of a door, and they took the cloth off. I found myself in a simple, cozy room. Five lizardmen surrounded me, and some still had their bone arms trained on me, as though I were someone terribly dangerous.

"That won't be necessary," a quiet, calm voice rasped from behind a beaded curtain. An old, weathered lizardman stepped into view, dressed in simple linen robes. The weapons came down at once.

"In fact, please leave us. I'll be fine." They looked at one another, uncertain, until the tall one jerked his head at the door, and out they went. The old lizard — Lamb, presumably — lowered himself comfortably into a cushioned armchair beside a low round table, and waved me into the one across from it. I sat.

"Tea?" There were two cups already set out, and a kettle. I shook my head. I wasn't in a tea mood. Lamb poured for himself and took a sip, watching me over the rim.

"So we finally meet," he said, in that quiet, calm voice of his.

"Drizella. Azearothiel's new bloodliner. Also called the fugitive servant. And lately the Napoleon-killer. Or the heaven-evoker." Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Just Drizella is fine," I said.

"I apologize for the rough treatment," he said, after a pause.

"You see—""That is quite all right." I waved a hand.

"Please tell me what it is you have, I have not got all day. A busy afternoon ahead of me, you see."

"Actually," he said softly, "I only wanted a conversation. To get to know you, and for you to know me. If you haven't the time, you're free to leave." He smiled, and looked at the door. I considered simply leaving. I had been tricked into coming, after all. But the truth was that I was curious, and I should feel stupid simply walking out.

"Well, since I'm here and all," I said.

"So. You're new to the city," he said, sipping his tea, "and after your death in the living world you lived mostly in the Kar'telm desert, inside a many-tongue cave."

"That's right."

"I was thinking," he said, "that perhaps you haven't had the chance to learn Hell's history. Its culture. Its geography."

"I suppose not," I said. I hadn't had the chance, nor was particularly interesting in it. History and geography were boring, after all.

"And so you have never climbed the Arag'ash mountain and seen the stars."

"I… haven't," I said. I had assumed there weren't any stars, and mostly I had not thought about it, and now that I did think about it, it made me all confused.

"You cannot see them anywhere else," he sighed, looking upward.

"The air of this world is thick and full of dust — you see how low and red the sky hangs. There are only a few places high enough to stand above the worst of it, and from those the stars come out entire, and they are beautiful past any comparison. You were lucky, to be born on Earth and to have them every night for nothing."

"So Hell is a planet, like Earth?" I asked, and felt suddenly rather dumb.

"What?" He looked up at me, surprised, and made a small chuckle.

"Did you truly think it was anything else? What else could it be?"

"If I'm here and insulted," I said, a bit angry "I shall bid you good day and be on my way!" Mostly I was embarrassed. I simply had not thought about the matter much. I could have asked about the nature of Hell at any time; Za'rynn surely knew, and even my friends at Marguerite cave might have.

"My apologies," he said.

"But if you'll allow it, I would like to explain a few basic facts about this world. I think they matter to our conversation."

"Fine." I crossed my arms.

"I'm listening."

"Once, there were no skeletons here, no demons, no humans. Only us lizards," he began, in that quiet voice of his.

"This is our planet. We roamed it for a million years — the clever ones, the ones who mastered tools and metal and put every other creature beneath us, as your kind did on Earth. Then, about a thousand years ago, you came. The humans did." I listened quietly as he went on.

"Old scriptures tell that in the beginning, we lizards were the ones you named demons. It was the thick air of this place, our red sun, the animals that looked like monsters to you — that is what made your people call this planet Hell. Ironically, it is now the humans with special bloodlines, the ones who grow horns, who carry the noble title of demon. We natives remain simply lizards." Oh, so there was a bunch of important stuff I didn't know! Of course, this Lamb fellow was the suspicious sort.

I would validate everything with Za'rynn later, even if it meant her laughing her ass off at how dumb I was.

"So you lizard people and the monsters are the native species," I said, trying to put it all in order, "and then the humans came, they discover magic and some of them grew horns, and at some point somebody worked a grand magic that made skeletons pop up everywhere, and now we all live together?"

"That simplifies it quite a bit," Lamb chuckled again, "but yes. At first, there were many wars. The humans came with weapons of iron, while we lizards were only in our early bronze stage. Your iron cut our soft bronze, and you killed and enslaved us by the millions."

"Oh..." I said.

"Sorry about that."

"Then, it all changed when humans discovered magic around seven hundred years ago," he said.

"They understood the potential of the unique crystals on this planet—a potential we could never unlock. They learned how using steel and bone conduits could harness that magical energy. The widespread use of magic brought prosperity and eased physical labor, making the crude practice of physical slavery obsolete. Still, it was less than two hundred years ago that lizards finally gained some rights in all Hell. About a hundred years after the skeletons did. There is still much prejudice against us." Oh, prejudice?

But the lizard ladies did have a horrid taste in dresses, and those tasteless necklaces. I mean, that was simply a fact.

"Now we live together," he said, spreading his hands.

"More than that — our culture has been swallowed whole by your Earth culture. The dead of France arrive here, in this region, and have done for a thousand years, and so this is a French province in everything but soil. No lizard ever set foot in France. No skeleton ever did either. And yet we speak the language, our children are given French names — and for some silly reason we hold a grudge against our fellow lizards from the English-speaking parts."

"That's all right, then," I said brightly, "so long as it is refined French culture. Only think of absorbing any other, barbaric one. I met an English lizard lady, you know. It would do her a world of good to absorb more French culture, if I'm honest." I dared not imagine a sausage-eating, punctual German lizard. A horrid sight indeed.

"Well." Lamb looked at me strangely.

"I should rather say that all cultures are unique and hold their own inherent value."

"Really?" I said, taken aback.

"Why is that?"

"Well." Lamb cleared his throat.

"Perhaps we are drifting from the matter I hoped to discuss. I should like to know what you make of our city, Mithatylil, from the little time you've spent here."

"Well," I said, considering, "the upper city is beautiful indeed. All white marble, and fountains, and bridges, and those little lamps strung along the water. It is prettier than Paris, truly."

"But you have also seen the other side," Lamb said quietly, gesturing around himself.

"The truth beneath the marble. The people who are forgotten. The ones called trash."

"Oh, you shouldn't be so harsh on them," I said.

"The Larksong district has its own charm, and the people are nice enough — when I'm not in uniform, that is. It is only the poorer part, with all those paste-heads, that is truly awful. You should really stop selling that stuff."

"Listen," he said, looking more serious now.

"You must hear the truth of it — a truth you will not hear in the upper city. Yes, we may have made these tunnels our home, but it was not always so. We were free citizens once, free to go as we pleased. Mithatylil is ancient; my ancestors lived here more than a thousand years, before any human set foot on this land." Lamb took a deep breath and was quiet for a moment.

"Ninety-four years ago, Azearothiel came with his army. Those who would not surrender, who fought to protect their homes, were killed, enslaved, or driven out. We are the children of the ones who survived, and we were put down here to live in the tunnels like rats — without daylight, among the trash, forced into the mines or into selling illegal goods. My people. The lower city people. You saw them." He made a sad smile.

"They deserve better than this. Don't you think?" Lamb was boring again, and it seemed he had even got onto politics. Oh, by Jove, I think he expected me to answer!

"Why don't you… you know, just leave?" I asked.

"I don't think Azearothiel would stop you."

"And go where?" he asked.

"In another city another high demon would treat us no better. And this is our city. This is our home. My grandfather helped build a good deal of the great architecture you admire up there. The royal library, for one." Oh, I really ought to go to the library today, unless this lizard meant to keep talking until dark. And then a thought struck me: was it possible that Hell held a copy of Fifi that had not yet been released in the living world? It wasn't likely. But if it did— My eyes went wide at the thought.

Lamb looked at me and nodded. I think he read my expression entirely wrong.

"Look," I said, "what you describe is truly, well… sad. But you see, war is like that."

"What do you mean?" he asked, something narrowing in his eyes. This lizard was not very bright, and I would have to explain something rather basic to him.

"Sometimes kings come with an army to take another city, and if you are on the losing side, it goes badly for you. If Azearothiel offered citizenship to those who surrendered, he is probably better than most. And yes, it would be kind of him to give you all full citizenship and let you move to the upper city — but if you are constantly plotting to overthrow him and all his nobles, I can see how that would be a problem for him.

In this world you survive by standing with the strong, not by weeping about how unjust it all is." Lamb didn't say anything then. He simply looked at me, his mouth slightly open. Oh — perhaps I had been dumb again. He did have a good many armed lizards about. I should probably just have told him what he wanted to hear. But Lamb only shook his head sadly.

"When I heard how you killed a tyrant king on earth, how you lived content in a cave, and how you helped a lower city urchin, I truly hoped you would hear our cause. But perhaps I came too late, and Azearothiel and the other Justiciers have already poisoned your mind."

"That's really not—""But tell me," he said.

"What about the exterminations? Did they tell you about those? About the arrangement they came to with the angels — to let them slaughter us instead of them? They do not protect us. They pay with us. And all we can do is hide, and pray quietly that the door they open is not this one." That touched something in me. I thought of all the urchins, and of the talk with Armand back in the cave. Something about angels coming down to laugh and slaughter made me truly furious.

"Cowards," I muttered under my breath.

"What?" Lamb asked.

"All of you." I said, angry now.

"You, Azearothiel, and all the other high demons. Cowards. You claim they need to protect you? Why aren't you fighting to protect yourselves? You have arms! Instead you sit down here plotting against Azearothiel and blaming the upper city for the angels. It is the angels who come and kill you. It is them you ought to be fighting!" I was panting now. Again, I probably should have simply shut it. But I have never excelled at that.

"You..." Lamb looked at me strangely, a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes.

"You have never seen an extermination. If you had..."

"Yes, yes," I said.

"I have been told that before. And yes, perhaps I will freeze and wet myself. That still doesn't make you any braver." I smoothed down my sleazy dress. I did not like this Lamb at all.

"If we are done for the day, I shall bid you good day and—" Lamb raised a hand, silencing me. nothing to go on but a feeling in the gut."

"You are a strange one," he said.

"And despite everything, I believe your heart is in the right place. Za'rynn thinks so too." He looked thoughtful.

"I have something precious. I have been waiting to give it to someone it would matter to — someone who would do some good with it. I wasn't sure it was you. I am still not sure. But at my age a man learns to trust his gut." He reached into his coat and drew out a small black bone, curved and sharp, and held it in his palm.

"What is that?" I asked.

"A magic bone," he said.

"They are meant to be put into the flesh. They give magic, but they poison the body along with it. That is why they are chiefly sold to time-loopers in the living world: if the loop is only a few days long, the body comes back whole and the magic stays. Here in Hell we have better ways, mundane ways, of working magic."

"So…?"

"But you are of the Vess'iliss bloodline." He looked me in the eyes.

"A bloodliner such as yourself could absorb the thing, and live. There are more like you in the city — among the nobles, among the Justiciers. None of them are my friends. And so I shall take a gamble, a very large gamble, and put this weapon in your hands."

"But—" I struggled with it.

"If there are more ordinary ways…"

"Yes," he said, smiling, holding the black bone up by its blunt end.

"If it were an ordinary magic bone, that is. But this is a black Lash'ar's. A product of the old forbidden magic. We sacrificed a great deal to get hold of this thing."

"All right, but…" I swallowed.

"You see, I have only just refused to help you with that rebellion of yours. And now you tell me to stick a black bone into my body. You will surely understand if I politely decline. As gifts go, a cake would be appreciated just as well, and—""I have already apologized for the rough treatment," Lamb said, and snapped his fingers: one loud, dry click. Oh, I had a bad feeling about that.

"Wait, I—" The door burst open and half a dozen lizard men rushed in. Four leveled bone arms at me. Two came straight on for my arms. Despite the weapons pointed at me, I fought back instantly. I stomped down hard and felt one guard's foot break under my heel, and put a rib-crushing punch into the second. But then the heavy bone bracelets strapped around their wrists flared with a harsh crimson light, and the one with the broken foot simply took hold of me anyway. His grip was solid iron.

They pinned my arms behind my back as two more rushed in to secure my legs. I thrashed and swore. Lamb stepped forward with the black bone held between two fingers. I screamed as he pushed the point into my thigh — slowly, steadily, until the whole of it had disappeared beneath the skin. After a few agonizing moments, he drew it back out. I looked in absolute horror. The bone, once pitch black, was now completely white. Then, my blood caught fire. Or at least, it felt that way.

A searing, overwhelming heat bloomed from the wound, and a familiar blackness started creeping into the edges of my vision as I began to lose consciousness. Oh, by Jove. This was, what? The fourth time this year? Surely, passing out was becoming a terribly bad habit of mine. And I didn't even get to ask what the stupid black bone actually does.