Perdido Street Station - China Mieville [225]
Isaac and Derkhan eyed them without enthusiasm.
“This,” said Lemuel, pointing to them each in turn, “is Shadrach, Pengefinchess and Tansell.”
The three looked at Isaac and Derkhan with ruthless, swaggering arrogance.
Shadrach and Tansell were human, Pengefinchess was vodyanoi. Shadrach was obviously the hard man of the group. Large and sturdy, he wore a miscellaneous collection of armour, studded leather and flat, hammered pieces of iron strapped to shoulders, front and back. It was spattered with slime from the sewers. He followed Isaac’s eyes to his outfit.
“Lemuel told us to expect trouble,” he said in a curiously melodic voice. “We came dressed for the occasion.”
In his belt swung an enormous pistol and a big, weighty machete-sword. The pistol was carved into an intricate shape, a monstrous horned face, its mouth the muzzle. It would vomit forth the bullets. A flared blunderbuss flapped on his back, along with a black shield. He would not be able to walk three steps in the city like that without being arrested. No wonder they had come through the city’s underside.
Tansell was taller than Shadrach, but much more slight. His armour was smarter, and seemed designed at least in part for aesthetics. It was a burnished brown, layers of stiff curboille, wax-boiled leather engraved with spiral designs. He carried a smaller gun than Shadrach and a slender rapier.
“So what’s happening, then?” said Pengefinchess, and Isaac realized from the vodyanoi’s voice that she was female. There were, with vodyanoi, no physical characteristics for an inexpert human to recognize that were not hidden below the loincloths.
“Well . . .” he said slowly, watching her.
She squatted like a frog before him and met his gaze. She wore a voluminous white one-piece garment—incongruously and bizarrely clean, given her recent journey—that fitted close around her wrists and ankles, leaving her large, amphibious hands and feet free. She carried a recurved bow and sealed quiver over her shoulder, a bone knife in her belt. A large pouch of some thick reptile skin was strapped to her belly. Isaac could not tell what was within.
As Isaac and Derkhan watched, something bizarre happened below Pengefinchess’s clothes. There was a quick movement, as if something wrapped itself around her body at speed and then removed itself. As the weird tide passed, a large patch of the white cotton of her shift became sodden with water, clinging suddenly to her, then drying as if every atom of liquid was suddenly sucked out. Isaac stared, thunderstruck.
Pengefinchess looked down casually.
“That’s my undine. She and I have a deal. I provide her certain substances, she clings to me, keeps me wet and alive. Lets me travel in much drier places than I’d otherwise manage.”
Isaac nodded. He had never seen a water elemental before. It was unsettling.
“Has Lemuel warned you of the sort of trouble we’re facing?” Isaac said. The adventurers nodded, unconcerned. Even excited. Isaac tried to swallow his exasperation.
“These moth-things aren’t the only thing you can’t afford to look at, sirrah,” said Shadrach. “I can kill with my eyes closed, if I have to.” He spoke with soft, chilling confidence. “This belt?” He tapped it nonchalantly. “Catoblepas hide. Killed it in the outskirts of Tesh. Didn’t look at that, neither, or I’d be dead. We can handle these moths.”
“I damn well hope so,” said Isaac grimly. “Hopefully, no actual fighting’ll be necessary. I think Lemuel feels safer with some backup, just in case. We’re hoping the constructs’ll take care of things.”
Shadrach’s mouth curled minutely, in what was probably contempt.
“Tansell’s a metallo-thaumaturge,” said Lemuel. “Aren’t you?”
“Well . . . I know a few techniques for working metal,” Tansell replied.
“It’s not a complex job,” said Isaac. “Just need a bit of welding. Come this way.”
He led them through the rubbish to where they had hidden the mirrors and the other materials for the helmets.