City of Ruin - Mark Charan Newton [109]
‘And you, what, just came here to watch this performance? I don’t understand why.’
With a disturbing smile, the man nodded. ‘I can always sense death, but can do nothing about it.’ And he gestured with a wave of his hand towards the corner where he had vomited.
The old man edged into the conversation, though hunching fearfully away from Dannan. ‘BanHe, this one – likes death, so the word on the street goes. You have your witch women in Villjamur, doncha? Well this is a male one.’
Brynd was used to the eccentricities on the streets of Villjamur, but back in his home city it was easy to comprehend which were merely wild stories.
Out here, he didn’t know what to believe.
*
Eventually the rumel investigator arrived, his hat tipped aslant across his eyes. He was clutching a pastry and, with his mouth half-full he mumbled, ‘I got your damn message. You realize what time it is?’
‘Four more,’ Brynd announced. That message had been sent ages ago, and yet the investigator had stopped off at a bakery to fill his gut even more. ‘Four soldiers gone tonight, and these two men here are actual witnesses.’
Information was exchanged between them until Jeryd was fully briefed. He then examined the scene, noted the remnants of a giant trilobite, the discarded swords, the precise location. Now and then he’d nod as if what he was seeing confirmed some hunch. At one point he took a blade from his boot, and scraped some residue off the cobbles. As he returned he grumbled, ‘Spider, eh?’ The rumel suddenly seemed on edge.
‘That’s what they claim,’ Brynd admitted. ‘But I’m doubtful something of such a size could remain concealed in a city as populous as this. Someone would be bound to spot something sooner or later.’
‘Don’t be so sure. You can stay hidden very easily, when you don’t want to be seen.’ Jeryd held out his blade from which drooped strands of some substance.
Brynd was astounded. ‘Looks consistent with what these witnesses have claimed.’
‘Doesn’t it just,’ Jeryd observed. ‘And, yeah, I’ve seen this before, smeared across various rooftops. I was wondering what could produce such a substance, and now with two witnesses claiming to have seen a giant . . . arachnid—’
‘Bigger than giant, like!’ the old man protested. ‘Monstrous!’
‘I’ll fucking second that,’ the so-called banHe cooed. There was an androgynous air to the way he inhaled his roll-up.
‘Well, issues of scale aside,’ Jeryd continued nervously, ‘we have at least got ourselves something to go on.’
‘Please share that with us, investigator,’ Brynd encouraged him sarcastically.
‘It isn’t an exact science, this job.’ Jeryd wiped his brow. ‘Some days you find yourself just chasing your tail – if you have one, that is – and you end up getting nowhere. This might easily be one of those days. But I’ve seen this substance more than once and I’ll tell you this: it’s nothing natural. If these guys say you got a . . . giant spider picking people off, I’m inclined to believe them.’ A pause as he screwed up his face. ‘Even this banHe guy – met a lot of his female kin in Villjamur. Good sorts, when you dust away the weirdness, so you can rely on what he says.’
‘Oh, I’m sooo fucking thankful,’ piped the banHe, reminding Brynd fondly of Kym, a man he knew in Villjamur.
‘What do you suggest,’ Nelum added, ‘in terms of making progress? I have to say, it is rather a shame this spider thing isn’t our ally. I once read of how silk was used for treating battle wounds, in the past. It doesn’t cause any allergic reactions, being quite inert.’
‘Tell you one thing,’ Jeryd said, ‘if any soldier lived long enough to set eyes on whatever the hell produced this’ – he indicated the excessive gossamer strands – ‘then he’d probably be damn well frightened to death on the spot. I know I would . . .’
Nelum persisted, ‘Still, if it saves lives—’
‘At the moment it’s not saving anything,’ Brynd interrupted. ‘It’s taking soldiers from the street, valuable men we need in combat.’
‘But the real question is, why?’ Nelum observed.
‘Indeed,’ Jeryd added. ‘Could do with more of your sort in