Issue #66 – City by the Lake

This entry is part 6 of 16 in the series The Descendants Vol 6: Returns and Departures

 
Part 6
 
Chelsea Rimbu’s Chicago campaign headquarters was abuzz with activity. The election was just over a month away and while they were ahead in the polls, it was only by three points.
 
The ground floor was given over mostly to a single, large room where, before the large windows looking out onto the street, dozens of volunteers manned phones from low-walled cubicles. Rimbu for Governor posters and banners were hung everywhere, as were similar items for other Progress and Liberty Party candidates, including presidential hopeful, Monica Devereaux. A lot had been made about the fact that 2076 might be the year that Illinois might get its first female governor and America, its first black, female president.
 
As the room buzzed with the sound of many voices on many phones, all extolling the virtues of their candidate and party, the woman herself descended the spiral stairs from the second floor attended by her campaign manager.
 
Chelsea Rimbu was five feet, eight inches tall in heels, and heavyset. Her hair, the color of dark chocolate, was piled high in the front and cut off in back, leaving a few locks long to frame her tan, rosy cheeked face. She was wearing a black coat and ankle length skirt over a white blouse with ruffles the poked out through the not fully buttoned coat like some nineteenth-century gentleman’s shirt.
 
Her campaign manager, Roger Bartlett, was so tall that had to stoop slightly to keep the tablet in his hand I her field of view as he went over the latest public opinion polls with her.
 
Across the room, the glass doors to the headquarters were thrown open, and with a gust of the wind the city was nicknamed for, a man strode in.
 
He was older, probably in his mid fifties, and dressed in an expensive, tailored suit with a red carnation in the lapel. His black hair was tied back in a short tail and graying at the temples. Also gray was his thin, well groomed mustache. Incongruous with everything else about him, her wore a god chain around his neck that was s thick an heavy that it actually hindered the rhythm of his steps as he walked in. On the end of that chin was a golden disk just a bit smaller than his palm bearing the images of an eagle and a lion locked in fierce combat. Each only had one eye visible, represented by a tiny shard of amber that caught the light in all the wrong ways.
 
If nothing else, he exuded confidence as he stepped in.
 
“Can I help you sir?” Asked a female staffer, a young woman of nineteen with black hair and red highlights, dressed in khakis and a Progress and Liberty Party t-shirt.
 
The man gave her a contemptuous look, then shoved her head, sending her tumbling back and over a table by the door covered in bumper stickers and yard signs for supporters. As her startled shout died away, the room suddenly took notice.
 
He responded to this by calmly taking out a cigar that was already cut, and lighting it with a match he struck on that same table. “No thanks.” He said belatedly to his victim, then raised his voice as stunned murmurs started to fill the room. “I’m here to see the wannabe governor. Where are you Miss Rimbu?”
 
“The police are being called as we speak.” Rimbu replied with stony calm. “Whatever you think you’re going to accomplish by assaulting my volunteers, you’re failing and now you’re going to prison.”
 
“Aw, you hurt me badly with that kinda talk.” He took another mocking puff of the cigar, then put his hand on the rim of the amulet hanging against his breast. “When all I wanted to do was thank you for all you’re doin’ for the psionics.”
 
He turned his fingers counter clockwise along the edge of the amulet.
 
The change wasn’t like any other shapeshifter. There was no twitching, stretching chaos of one body becoming another, not orderly flow between them with clear intermediary steps between. His body didn’t flow like wax, it flowed like water; like air, and with mercurial quickness he was suddenly something else.
 
Something else in this case was a beast the size of a grizzly bear, covered in dark, brown fur with paws the size of dinner plates, exposing black claws. It’s head was that of a bird of prey, with a hooked beak and baleful yellow eyes. A mane of fine, white hair grew from and hung around that head, and from its back grew a second set of muscular limbs, these with elongated fingers between which stretched a membrane covered in snow white fur.
 
It was matted with dried blood, still dribbling from still-healing wounds, and a long tail tipped with a white tuft swished back and forth, catlike in the moment before it pounced.
 
The thing’s wings caught the air and carried it aloft the length of the room until it slammed into Rimbu, bearing her to the floor. It’s shoulder sent Bartlett slamming hard into the back wall where he slumped, senseless.
 
Rimbu stared up at the creature as it bore down on her with its weight, compressing her chest and causing its claws to pierce through he clothes and into her skin. Her surprisingly calm but annoyed response was, “So griffins are real too?”
 
The creature growled and loomed over her, raking one claw across her chest and down to her belly. “Yeah. It’s a damn good thing you’re doin’ for the psionics. But you’re bad for business.” He said in a low tone meant only for her. Let’s see how things go once a ‘descendant’,” He said the word mockingly, “Takes you out.” He drew back his head to deliver the killing strike with his beak.
 
But Rimbu caught his beak with surprisingly strong hands. “Alright, asshole. One: I know descendants. Some my best friends are descendants. My family are all Descendants. And you sir, are no descendant.” She forced his head back and managed to reposition her legs under his enormous weight.
 
“And Two:” Her hazel eyes shifted to gold. “I’m sorry, but your governor is in another castle.”
 
Bowing her back, she got both feet in his stomach and kicked him off her, sending him rolling back into a row of cubicles. Only even as he crashed into them, they dissolved into shadow and evaporated. In fact, the entire campaign headquarters, the people, the desks, and even the windows looking out onto the street disappeared, replaced by the dank interior of a recently closed convenience store. He slid to a jarring stop against a row of selves.
 
Ethereal flute music reached his ears, and he looked up to see Rimbu getting to her feet. As she did, her body stretched and changed, her clothes melting into her body, which was seemingly hit with the Midas touch, because it was turning to gold. Yellow eyes widened a he recalled where he’d seen her from: the prelate from Mayfield: the one called Facsimile.
 
And behind her, the shadows jagged and twisted weirdly, mapping out an outline that became the shape of a young woman in black with a flute to her lips: the Shade’s Apprentice. The girl smiled at him, the too-sweet, dangerous smile. “Yeah, the whole street was an illusion just for you. Your bosses aren’t going to be happy when they hear that even with some sort of magical artifact on your side, you still failed on an epic scale.
 
The mob hitter turned griffin growled and got to his feet, but a rasping voice came from off to his right. “And you know someone else who’s not happy?” He turned in time to see a man covered in black chitin with a blue giant at his side not six feet away. The former raised his hands and a wave of agony washed over him, like many small fires had just been started under his skin. He howled and tried to twist away from the attack.
 
But the giant barged into him and delivered a kick to his ribs that sent him crashing through some shelves an into the next aisle. He barely had his bearing back when he caught a scent he’d committed the memory: the girl who was with the obnoxious creature that botched his previous job.
 
He looked in her direction to see her approaching at enormous speed with a paint bucket in had. Bunching up his leg muscles, he leapt at her, only for her to run right through him. As she did, however, she let go of the paint bucket, allowing it to return to normal space, be retain its incredible speed and force. It slammed into his forehead, making him see double.
 
That was it. He need to get out of there. Outnumbered and caught in an ambush, it was all that he could do. Without preamble, he charged back toward the door. Just as he reached it, however, it faded to shadow and disappeared. And The lank, humanoid form in a cloak that all of Chicago’s criminal element feared emerged from the blank wall, glowing white eyes narrowed.
 
“T-the Shade.” He squawked, the animal fear was making him lose composure and control. The fight or flight reflexes of the griffin were overwhelming his thoughts. He’d never run afoul of the prelate before, but he knew people who had. None of them were in the game anymore, and many of them were so terrified after their encounters that they left every light in their house on as if to ward him away.
 
“Umbrage.” The specter snarled into his face.
 
He turned and ran, breaking for a back door he prayed would be there. But the moment he saw it, a plane of translucent blue energy interposed itself in his past, causing him to run headfirst into it. A young woman in a cape and half mask rose up before him, glowing the same color blue.
 
“I don’t like tormenting people like this.” She said, all sweetness and innocence. “So it’d be much better if you just gave up now.”
 
Something heavy landed on the shelves to his right and he glanced over to see a blonde with extremely long, misshapen legs crouching there. “On the other hand, you’re a mob heavy, maimed two people, tried to kill another, and threatened some more for no reason other than to terrorize someone, so I’m perfectly okay with beating on you until you cry for mommy.”
 
He backpedaled and tried to turn around, only to find his path blocked by a teen girl in boyish clothes and an older boy with brown hair and the first sad attempts at a beard. They both glowered at him with a mighty hatred.
 
“You hurt Noah.” the boy said. The girl said nothing. She was too angry, and something flickered in her eye a second before thunder rolled somewhere to the north.
 
A woman in the blue and white bodysuit stepped up behind the kids and put her hands on their shoulders. “You don’t want to upset Rain. When she looses control, she generates powerful ow pressure systems, which can get very big, very fast. How many of your bosses have properties on the lake shore, I wonder? And how would they react if they lost them in a storm?”
 
The griffin’s fear of the situation overrode his fear of his associates. He was sure he could clear them in one leap if he used his wings, so he went for it—and was instantly wrapped in a coil of muscle sheathed in scales. The snake’s body slammed him to the floor, then lifted him back up to face the women on the other end who had four hands balled int fists.
 
“I’ve been waiting all day to do this tom someone.” She said, cracking four sets of knuckles. “Especially after you made me and my friends look stupid and worthless.” After the first punch, there wasn’t a moment where there wasn’t at least one fist in his face. The world disintegrated into a non-stop parade of blows all around his head until he lost his grip on consciousness.
 
***
Kali kept hitting the griffin until it wheezed and seemingly melted inside her coils, becoming human again and slumping to the floor.
 
The senseless man wasn’t down more than a second before Facsimile was there, tugging the amulet over his head and tossing it as far away from him as she could get it. “Good job everyone.” The golden woman beamed at the room, giving a special smile, the closest either would get to an apology, to Kali and Shade’s Apprentice.
 
Codex folded her arms and nodded. “That was an excellent plan you had, Fax. Did you get the recording of what he said to ‘Rimbu’?”
 
Facsimile tapped her chest, then extracted her palmtop from her sternum. “All right here. It’s not a slam dunk, but the ‘bad for business’ thing will come in handy once we figure out who he works for.”
 
“I just hope we find out who gave him that necklace.” said Umbrage. “I’m not a fan of that kind of power coming into my city unchecked. We already have enough of a problem with the crime bosses and regular old Chicago brand ‘special cases’.”
 
He looked to the Outliers. “And you four…” He gave the impression of shaking his head, though it was hard to tell, “I’m sorry we met in bad circumstances, but I liked what I saw. Seeing as you’re already registered with City Hall as bounty hunters: what do you think of staying in town for a while and making sure no one every feels the need to bring in any of those Interstate heavies?”
 
Kronos smiled broadly and clapped Geiger on the shoulder. “What do you say? It’s steady work, we’ll be helping fellow descendants, and maybe this way we won’t always end up fighting the local heroes—because we’ll be the local heroes.”
 
On Geiger’s other side, Anura smiled at him. “You know it’s a good idea– maybe we’ll even get the blessing of the new governor.”
 
As the Outliers began to deliberate the new offer, Facsimile sidled up to Shade’s Apprentice and nudged her gently with her shoulder. The other woman turned to glare, but found herself looking into a golden grin. “Looks like you’re going to have to change your hero name.”
 
“Why?”
 
Facsimile pointed, “Because it looks like the Shade, or Umbrage, I guess, is about to have more than one Apprentice.”
 
***
The Chicago Police were there within minutes to pick up the man who turned out to be Orrin Blackpool. With Mr. Blackpool’s extensive list of crimes he was suspected of but never convicted thanks to being very good at hiding physical evidence and fighting DNA compulsions, the crime lab was very happy to swab Kali’s fists for a blood sample.
 
Even when he started to come to, Blackpool refused to divulge who gave him the amulet that turned him into a griffin. All he did in response to questioning was laugh and make crude remarks that had both Kali and Facsimile ready to pummel him back to sleep again.
 
As it would take the ROCIC an hour to arrive and pick up the amulet for safe keeping, Facsimile and The Shade’s Apprentice were assigned to stand guard over it while Zero dealt with the police, Umbrage discussed arrangements with the Outliers (who were getting the official credit for taking down Blackpool, both to solidify their reputation with City Hall and give them some seed money to set up shop), and Codex went to finally extend her offer to Noah’s group.
 
“…We could obviously wait until after the election,” She was saying, “Rain and Kevin can start at the Institute in January, and like I said, jobs would be waiting for you and Noah at Descendants Rights Worldwide if you want them.”
 
The three young people glanced at one another, uncertain of what the others really wanted. Rain was sitting cross-legged on top of a counter that Kevin was leaning against while Tillie remained standing.
 
“Since Rain has control of her abilities, there’s no reason for you to stay on the move anymore.” Codex urged. “And Tillie, since you and Noah are both old enough now, you can file to become their legal guardians—I can help in that arena regardless of how old you are.”
 
Kevin ran his hand through his hair, which was shaggy and in need of a trim. “It would be nice to not have to pick up and leave places every few months.” he admitted. “And if we stayed in one place a while, we could make friends that aren’t you know, each other.”
 
Hearing one of the younger kids express positive thoughts on the subject seemed to open a release valve on Tillie. “We wouldn’t have to depend on odd jobs and handouts—no offense, Codex, we really do appreciate what you’ve done for us, but…”
 
“I understand completely.” the older woman interrupted.
 
All eyes turned to Rain, whose eyebrows were furrowed in thought. She looked back at them with a calm solidity that told them that staring wasn’t going to make her reach a decision any sooner. Finally, she nodded. “We really should talk to Noah first—this is a family choice, not just the three of us by ourselves. Me though? I like moving, and I like figuring out how to do things we need done with what we have. It’s… kind of an adventure.” A small smile played on her lips, but quickly faded away as she shook her head.
 
“But having an adventure isn’t the smart thing, or the best thing for any of us. It’s fun, but we only just get by with wits and help and a lot of luck. And we’re not safe. We try to be, but we’re really not; not alone. I read the news and it’s not just the Academy anymore. We’ve been really, really lucky, guys.” She looked between her adopted siblings, then nodded. “Mayfield is probably the safest place in the world for people like us. So I vote we go there… at least until after school.”
 
“As long as Noah is okay with it.” Said Kevin. “I feel like we abandoned him while he was after the guy he thought was framing him—this Blackpool—and I’m not going to abandon him now.”
 
Codex nodded. “You all aren’t too different from how were are. I completely understand. Once the ROCIC clears everyone, I’ll take you to see him in the hospital.”
 
***
“So.” Shade’s Apprentice was leaning on a couple of shelves while Facsimile crouched directly over the amulet. “We still hate each other?”
 
Facsimile smirked. “I don’t know… we did work together pretty good at the end there. That horn of yours is kind of awesome.”
 
“Flute.” the other woman said with mock annoyance. “Jerk.”
 
The golden prelate laughed. “Nah, I don’t think we hate each other anymore. Don’t expect any Christmas cards because your boss is still kind of a sociopath when it comes to the bad guys, but you’re okay.”
 
“Don’t be so hard on him.” said Shade’s Apprentice, “He’s got his reasons for what he does and believe it or not, he has toned down since I first found this flute in a thrift shop and the world went insane around me. And he’s taught me a lot about how things work and how not to lose your mind doing this job.”
 
“I cam pre-‘trial-by-fire’d’, so I never needed that.” said Facsimile. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt… to tell the truth, sometimes it’s hard to keep from going too far. I’ve got people that stop me, and I guess you’re that for hm.”
 
Shade’s Apprentice nodded. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
 
They were silent for a minute, then Facsimile said. “So. Got an account over on PrelateWatch? A bunch of us use their Private Messaging system to keep in touch: Us, some of the Mayfield Irregulars, Majestrix and Zero Point, some of the New York prelates like Whitecoat and Barn Owl—even one of those chumps in LA that stole out name, Teen Machine. It’s kind of funny because the other posters don’t even know we’re for real.” She shrugged, “I was just thinking that a Christmas card is out of the question, but a PM once in a while isn’t.”
 
“You know, I think that’s a really good idea.” said Shade’s Apprentice, then grinned wickedly. “Can you also give me the contact info for the folks that can make a plushie of me?”
 
End Issue #66
Series Navigation<< Issue #65: Fond FarewellIssue #67 – Emet >>

About Vaal

Landon Porter is the author of The Descendants and Rune Breaker. Follow him on Twitter @ParadoxOmni or sign up for his newsletter. You can also purchase his books from all major platforms from the bookstore
Bookmark the permalink.