Under Ordshaw, page 32
Beaming at his imagined future, Casaria approached his apartment block and stopped across the street. His smile disappeared as he felt, all in an instant, the trepidation and urge to run that he must have so frequently bestowed on others. He let it pass, forcing his smile back onto his face and walking towards the entrance.
The two large men he had fought in the afternoon were waiting with metal bats in their hands. There was no shame in their stance, even though they were loitering by the door of a wealthy apartment block in one of central Ordshaw’s most prestigious neighbourhoods. Between them stood a shorter man, more discreet but menacing in a different way. He was round at his waist and cut a contrast to his goons in their labouring overalls, with his brown woollen suit – something he had clearly chosen with an eye to personal preference, rather than style. As Casaria approached, the man stepped forward.
“Mr Casaria.” He had a rough west Ordshaw accent, the sort that intimidated people from out of town. “My name’s Stacy Monroe. I believe you had a disagreement with my men today.”
“I thought we’d settled that,” Casaria replied.
“No. We’re about to.”
Casaria scanned all three men, particularly focusing on the bats. They were making a statement, bringing bats instead of guns. And he had already established that at least one of them was no pushover. Tired and injured as he was, it was unlikely he could take on all three of them. He kept smiling, though, thinking it was still worth a try.
27
Pax got out of the car for some air, finally clear of the centre of town and, apparently, not being followed. Letty flew out to settle on the car roof next to her. Pax rested an arm on the car, with barely the energy to keep standing.
“You got a new wing,” Pax observed tiredly, mustering the strength to smile.
“Of sorts. You got all beat up.”
“Kind of,” Pax said, nodding.
“Reeling with regrets?”
Pax looked into the car, at Grace hunched exhausted across her defeated father’s slowly breathing chest. She scanned over to Holly, who was stretching her legs, staring out at the city skyline. On this hillside road, the view was spectacular, all the skyscrapers and low houses coming together in a chain of yellow windows reflected in the calm river. Pax said, “Nah. You?”
Letty followed her gaze to the skyline. She took a breath. “Not especially.”
“I hoped you’d come back,” Pax told her.
“Yeah? I hoped you’d get yourself killed.” Pax reached out to poke her, her finger all but knocking the fairy down, and Letty batted back at her. “Oi. I’ll tear it off.”
Holly turned back to them, no humour in her face. She had developed lines of exhaustion over the space of the past few hours. She gave Letty an odd look, still unsure quite how to reconcile the existence of such a small person. Rather than dwell on it, she turned to Pax. “Where do we go? I have a sister in Manchester.”
“I’m not sure that’s safe,” Pax said. “I wish you hadn’t become involved yourselves.”
Holly nodded. “All this...it’s unnatural. Not for normal people.”
“I’ve got some people that we might contact. They’re not normal.” Pax pictured Bees’ warehouse. He might still be there at this hour. Even if he wasn’t, they could hide inside, it wouldn’t be difficult to find a way in. Though given that Casaria had turned up with the device instead of them, and her phone was fried so she couldn’t call ahead, that avenue looked hazy.
“My husband has a friend, near Long Culdon I believe,” Holly said. “The inventor. She knows what we’re dealing with, at least. And she’s kept herself hidden from it, all these years, somehow. I think she could help him, if we can’t go to a hospital.”
Pax considered it, thinking out loud. “Mad scientist versus possible gangsters. Some choice.”
“That settles it, then,” Holly said firmly. “You didn’t mention your friends were criminals.”
“Ah.” Pax lifted a finger, about to protest, but realised there was no point. “Okay.” Holly nodded and went to get back in the car. Pax said, “Mrs Barton. You did well.”
Holly gave her a short nod. “Thank you for keeping my daughter safe.”
She sat back down in the car and turned to her family, whispering assurances to them.
Letty lolled onto her elbows and let out a big sigh. She said, “So you great lummox, what now? Now that there ain’t no one wants to resolve this thing but us.”
“Whatever that thing is down there,” Pax said, “it’s doing more damage than I think even your people realise. Or care about. And it’s more complicated than you realise. It was feeding the thing that I think was giving Apothel orders.”
“His Blue Angel?”
“Yeah. Its screens can do way more than communicate messages. Whoever or whatever’s behind them, I think it’s their monster. Why did they make Apothel jump through those hoops? Why did they encourage him to get your device if it could harm this thing that they’re somehow connected to?”
“To remove it from the equation?” Letty replied. “Apothel died, remember.”
Pax frowned. She drummed her fingers on the car. “Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t what he thought it was. Right?”
“Yeah.” Letty yawned. “I need a fucking drink. So do you.”
Pax nodded. She imagined going back to the Sticky Tap, and putting a full stop in the craziest weekend of her life. Have a drink, pat herself on the back. They’d all got away more or less safely, at least. But that only reminded her of Rufaizu. He must’ve known what Apothel went through, having come back from wherever he’d been. And she hadn’t done a thing for him, even as she’d risked everything to save this family. Hadn’t done a thing for him yet, she told herself. She said, “We can figure this out, Letty. We want the same thing, don’t we?”
Letty stared at her, like she was studying her anew. The fairy said, “Close enough.”
“That’ll do,” Pax said. She laid her hand down for Letty to hop on, and the fairy regarded it oddly. She didn’t need the help any more. But she shrugged and stepped up anyway. As Pax lifted Letty and moved to get back in the car, she said, “We’ve still got a few days until the WPT. Think we can save the city by then?”
Enjoyed reading?
It’d be an awful shame to stop there, wouldn’t it? If you enjoyed Under Ordshaw, rest assured there’s plenty more to come, starting with what happens on Monday…
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About the Author
Phil Williams is the author of the Estalia, Ordshaw and Faergrowe series. Living in Sussex, UK with his wife, he also writes English guides for foreign learners and spends a great deal of time walking his impossibly fluffy dog, Herbert. You can find him online at:
www.phil-williams.co.uk
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Also by Phil Williams
Wixon’s Day (Estalia Series)
A desolate post-apocalypse, with no records left to explain how this wasteland came to be. Clouds conceal the nation of Estalia, where a lone boatman makes his way across the freezing landscape. Marquos drifts without meaning, through a dystopian empire riddled with steampunk war machines, searching for hope of a better future. In the Deadland of the North, they say the sky is clear, and the stars shine: he dreams of seeing it. Dreams that there is something worth living for…
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Aftan Whispers (Estalia Series)
As the days grow darker in the Estalian Empire, young Tyler stays positive by helping others. But when he meets a girl on the run with enemies in the highest places, Tyler's life gets complicated fast. Deni isn't afraid to kill, and she’s got a secret that could tear apart the sky.
In a mortal chase that takes them from a besieged city across the war-torn countryside, Tyler soon discovers that the Empire’s guardians are their most dangerous foe. Worse still, Deni is faced with a terrible choice: remain hidden and save herself - or expose herself to prevent the oncoming darkness.
AVAILABLE ON AMAZON
Balfair’s Confinement (Estalia Series)
The novella that started Deni’s journey.
Isolated in the derelict estate of the engineer Balfair, with only a miserable fellow slave for company, Deni dreams of changing her arduous life. When her master drags something new from the swamp and excludes her from his secretive project, she finally sees her chance. Deni will do whatever it takes to break free - even if it means bringing the full weight of the war-mongering Guard down on Balfair.
The results may be devastating, but they will notice her at last - and she will be free.
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Acknowledgements
This book would not have been possible without the input of many inspiring people. Some of the first seeds were sown when I visited New York, so thanks to Fran and Chris, whose companionship helped shine a light on the minotaur lurking under the city. Thanks are also due to everyone who read and gave encouragement to the screenplay of Penguins and Seahorses (even those that wanted the story completely changed). The project never manifested, but this novel is much richer for it.
Thanks, as always, to my excellent editor Carrie O’Grady, who helped me make sense of a labyrinthine story, and polished it up to boot. Thanks, too, to my readers who have offered words of support in the run-up to its release.
Above all, thanks to my wife, Marta, who I must emphasise has always been informed and supportive of my own forays into fantasy underworlds.
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 by Phil Williams
The moral right of Phil Williams to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by P. Williams
Published by Rumian Publishing
Phil Williams, Under Ordshaw
