Read City of the Automatons Page 11


  “How ridiculous!” Kyra thought. Was she supposed to thank some mischievous deity for her predicament, or should she just bang her head against a wall? Not even a day had gone by since she had passed through the city gates and she was already in deep trouble!

  She could almost forgive herself for falling into the trap, though she was furious at herself for such naivety: Dekka was a city of many faces, and she should have been more careful from the start. But now, to think that she had become a gang leader just like that, completely out of the blue! It was really too absurd.

  And she suspected it would be a source of countless problems.

  “Let me understand this better” she said, turning to ferret-face, “Are you saying that you and these men are now under my orders? That I, a perfect stranger, am now your new boss?”

  “Rules are rules” said the man, with a shrug “You defeated in duel our previous boss Kwan Shark-Teeth, so now you have to take his place.”

  “A duel? What nonsense!” snapped Kyra, “I was fighting for my life! I am quite sure I didn’t challenge that beast because I felt like it!”

  “Well, that doesn’t change a thing, does it?” insisted the man, both surprised and insulted. “Aren’t you glad? We Dock Rats are the most feared gang of the whole... docks! Many would kill to be in your place!”

  “Yes, of course...” Kyra whispered, glancing around. She was at the gang members’ center of attention; arranged around her in a circle were thieves, crooks, thugs and other dregs of humanity. Their stench was the only fearful thing about them.

  “What’s your name?” she asked ferret-face, who seemed the most civilized of the bunch.

  “I never knew my real name, boss” he said, with a half smile “But you can call me Fishbone, like everyone else. I don’t know why, but my enviable leanness has a comic effect on this bunch of idiots!”

  “Fishbone, huh? Very appropriate” she said. The man looked like a stick in his shabby clothes, at least two sizes too large.

  “Uhmpf! If you say so, boss.”

  “Tell me something, Fishbone. Can I go now, or does this farce have to last much longer?”

  Fishbone shook his head.

  “I wouldn’t, if I were you. The rules, you know. A leader who turns his back to the gang is not worthy of respect. And if she’s not worthy of respect...”

  He drew a finger across his throat.

  Kyra sighed. The wolf pack analogy fitted the gang perfectly. She would have to play along, and sooner or later an escape opportunity would come. She’d just have to keep her eyes open.

  “So, what do you expect me to do?”

  “I don’t know, boss. It’s your call, as I said.”

  Kyra looked at him almost pleadingly.

  “You might announce your name, to begin with” suggested Fishbone.

  “Brilliant” she snorted.

  She turned around to face her bizarre rogue public, none of whom had dared utter a word until then. All eyes were on her. Had it not been for the squalor of the setting, and of the bystanders in general, it would have been a solemn moment.

  “My name is Kyra” she said, sporting a frown meant to inspire awe and respect “It seems I shall be your boss from now on. My predecessor has decided to resign” she added, pointing disdainfully at the unconscious body of Kwan Shark-Teeth.

  It was a smart move: there was a lot of grinning and derisive laughter. Their reaction gave Kyra an interesting idea: there was something she had dearly wanted to do right from the start of the ambush...

  “Otto!” she called loudly, looking around.

  There was no response.

  “Come on, don’t be a coward! I want to reward you for the wonderful gift you have given me!”

  There was some movement to her right. A couple of the men parted, cursing, and Otto appeared between their knees, pushing his cart with his arms. He advanced timidly, his gaze fixed on the ground, until he found himself at Kyra’s feet.

  “Here I am, boss” he said, giving her a smile of naive hope.

  Kyra smiled back, with the sweetness of a cobra.

  Then, without warning, she landed him a blow so violent that it overturned him. Otto remained trapped under his board, turned over like a turtle on its back, and screamed his anger with all the power of his lungs. His cries were drowned by an avalanche of boos and laughter.

  Now Kyra knew she had done the right thing. She squatted next to the turtle-like man.

  “With this, Otto, I consider my debt of gratitude paid” she said, offering her hand “and you should feel lucky about it.”

  Otto snarled at first, refusing to admit the public humiliation. But since he was stuck there with everyone mocking him, he soon realized he had no choice. He ground his teeth, spat, and finally shook Kyra’s outstretched hand, accepting her help.

  She pulled him towards her with such force that the robber almost fell on top of her. As their faces skimmed each other, Kyra hissed in his ear:

  “Don’t try it ever again, understood? You have seen what I am capable of...”

  “Yes, boss! You have been very clear!” said Otto, moaning, as she shook his hand with such enthusiasm that she almost snapped his bones.

  Kyra let him go, satisfied. Otto shot out as fast as a rat, and laughter followed him as he went back into hiding. Fishbone approached, his mouth stretched into a chequered smile.

  “Well done, boss! You’re smarter than I’d thought! But there’s one more thing you have to do to become one of us...”

  He knelt beside Kwan Shark-Teeth and jerked the bandanna from his head: it was dyed red and black, in stripes. He turned around, then seemed to reconsider, and kicked the motionless giant in the ribs. Only then did he hand Kyra the bandanna.

  “Here, you deserve it.”

  “How nice!” thought Kyra “Another pack ritual...”

  Trying not to think about all the dirt and sweat already smeared on the handkerchief, she tied it around her forehead.

  The Dock Rats responded with a jubilant roar.

  “I propose a toast to your health, boss!” yelled Fishbone, raising his voice above the general clamor “To the Old Lantern!”

  “To the Old Lantern!” they all repeated in chorus.

  Kyra knew right away that her new authority was going to be useless in that situation. She was literally swept away by the torrent of cheering men; swept ever deeper into the ill-lit maze of the docklands.

  Whether she wanted or not, her visit to Leon would have to wait.

  ------

  The next morning she woke up with a start and a sense of panic, unable to remember where she was, or why. Her temples throbbed like two beating drums.

  Irritated by the rays of sunlight filtering through the shutters, she found it difficult to keep her eye open. She glanced around: she saw a bed with not-so-white sheets, some dusty furniture, and four walls covered in wallpaper that had certainly seen better days.

  After a while, her memory began to return: blurry images of a feast, men singing and dancing, choruses, laughter, and above all, gallons and gallons of dark rich limpaq flowing from the steins...

  She rubbed her temples.

  “When will you learn, Kyra?”

  The events of the night before were hazy and unreal in her mind, but the fact that she had awakened in a bed at the Old Lantern left no room for doubt. It was all true: she really had put pay to Kwan Shark-Teeth and his henchmen, and she really had become the new leader of that gang of thugs.

  “Dock Rats” she thought, disconsolate.

  At least the name was apt. Seldom in her life had she come across such a dirty and forlorn group of people. As she understood it, most of them were just a jumble of half-baked criminals. The really dangerous people among them, murderers and the like, could be counted on the fingers of one hand. The old gang leader had been one of these: they had told her that he was deranged and violent, and had been accepted as leader only out of fear, not respect. That was why they had all been so happy to see
him knocked to the ground, defeated. That was also why Kyra had immediately begun to watch her own back.

  Kwan had in fact appeared at the tavern’s doorway shortly after midnight, a huge mass standing against the dark background of the night, causing a dead silence to fall. He had approached Kyra very slowly, studying her, working his way through the men turned to stone. He had stopped less than a step away from her, a towering, fearsome creature, and had looked her up and down with indecipherable eyes.

  But just before Kyra was about to plant a knife in his stomach - and much to the great surprise of all present - Kwan had parted his lips in a horrific metallic smile. A little black window appeared in his mouth where the tooth Kyra pulled out had been..

  After giving her a friendly, resounding slap on the back - which had almost made Kyra spit out her teeth - Kwan had snatched a cup from the hands of a poor fellow nearby, toasted Kyra with a mumble, and downed the strong beverage in one gulp. Then the feast had resumed amid laughter and cheers, as if nothing had happened, and Kwan had lost himself in the crowd, jostling through the mob of drunks.

  Kyra had been speechless at first. Then, after thinking a while, she had realized it couldn’t be otherwise: “Like the wolves, again...” People on the edge of society like Kwan, people lacking the most basic ethical principles, respected one law only, and respected it all the way: the law of the fittest. By humiliating him in front of everyone, and most importantly from a position of distinct disadvantage, Kyra had taught him a lesson hard to forget. Like a dog - or a wolf? - trained by beating, from now on Kwan would follow and obey her without question.

  She returned to the present, and found herself still sitting on the bed. If only she could stay there all day...

  And why not? When it came down to it, was she or wasn’t she the boss?!

  She laughed at her own joke, but then Ezer’s anguished face passed before her eyes, and the weight of her responsibility extinguished her smile. She had better things to do than lounging around, and she felt ashamed of all the time she had already wasted. Things were going to change, and that very day. First, as planned, she would visit the merchant Leon and obtain more precise information on the disappearance of young Ethan. Then - the idea had begun to form in her mind the night before - she would think how to take advantage of the Dock Rats.

  Their group wasn’t well-trained, there was little harmony between them, but they had their strengths: for one, they enjoyed a certain supremacy over the other residents of that district, because of their repeated affrays with the hateful City Watch. Their fame endowed them with excellent powers of persuasion, and these would come in useful if they had to comb the neighborhood in search of information. In addition to that, the gang members shared an enviable knowledge of the city’s slums. Who better than a rat, in fact, to discover unexpected paths, and to walk through seemingly impenetrable defenses? These skills would certainly come in handy.

  One step at a time, though. Starting with Leon.

  She washed in haste, put on clean clothes, and left the room. Contrary to her expectations, rather than finding the whole noisy gang waiting for her in the main hall, she found just two familiar faces: Fishbone, who was wearing his usual wide grin across his hollow face, and an embarrassed looking Otto, whose gaze was fixed on the ground. Both wore the signature striped gang handkerchiefs across their foreheads. Kyra thought she should probably wear hers, before she offended someone.

  She greeted them, and sat at their table.

  “You slept well, boss?” asked Fishbone.

  “Like a stone” she said.

  “It was a really good feast... We should change boss a little more often!”

  “That’s very funny, Fishbone. But where is everyone?”

  “Oh, don’t worry; they’ve gone out to do their routine chores. We’re quite an independent bunch, as you’ll find out.”

  Kyra couldn’t hide a smile of approval. She had been afraid of spending hours handing out tasks that did not interest her, and resolving issues that did not concern her. Now, however, she would be free to do what she had to.

  “Very well” she said “What about you two?”

  “Well, we thought you may need someone to guide you around town...”

  “Can’t say I liked the first experience” said Kyra, staring at Otto with accusing eyes. The man shrank back and blushed before her.

  “Eheheh, I don’t doubt it, but we will ensure that things go better this time!” said Fishbone.

  “I very much hope so.”

  Still struggling with her hangover, Kyra didn’t eat anything, and was happy with just a simple infusion of bitter herbs. The innkeeper served her with ill-concealed fear, and she realized that the man would not ever ask for - nor receive - the payment he deserved for that breakfast, not to mention the feast and the room. She vowed to herself that she would pay the bill as soon as possible, even though it may not be easy to convince the other gang members.

  She left the table shortly after, flanked by her odd pair of guardian angels. They left the tranquility of the half-empty tavern behind them, and were immediately struck by the noisy vibrancy of the neighborhood, crowded and colorful as ever. Men and women came and went at a brisk pace, immersed in their own affairs, while merchants shouted from behind their diverse piles of wares.

  The only thing that really got to Kyra was the unbearable stench that plagued the streets. The locals seemed immune to it, but she felt stifled by the lethal mix of aromas of ripe fruit, spoiled fish and sewage. When she gave instructions to Fishbone and Otto, she did it while covering her nose with a sleeve.

  “Don’t you like the pure morning air?” joked Fishbone.

  Kyra rolled her eyes, trying not to vomit.

  “I have some business to attend with Leon, the draper” she muttered behind the cloth “Can you take me to him?”

  Otto cleared his throat.

  “Sure, boss! It’s a stone’s throw from here. And I mean it this time.”

  “Let’s go then. I have already dallied long enough.”

  Otto kept his word: in less than ten minutes he took her to the front of an anonymous looking store, and announced that they had arrived at their destination. The air was less putrid there, and Kyra was able to resume normal breathing. A glance at the store front was enough for her to realize that Leon’s business wasn’t going too well: the goods on display were few, and the store’s appearance, starting with its peeling paint and crumbling sign, left much to be desired. It looked as if it were on the verge of bankruptcy.

  It did not strike her as an isolated case though. She had noticed many other stores in similar conditions since her arrival in Dekka. She thought of the fat merchant’s rantings at the “Dancing Lion” in Mirna. He had not lied: the Factory really was making a clean sweep of the competition. Who knew what Leon’s opinion on the subject would be? She must remember to ask.

  “Wait here, if you want” she said.

  Otto and Fishbone looked at each other, and then smiled at her.

  “Go ahead, boss. When you are done, you’ll find us here where you left us.”

  “Lucky me…” Kyra mumbled between her teeth, as she turned.

  A pale wooden door with glass insets stood before her. She gingerly pushed it open, and entered a confined, poorly lit room. Rolls of fabric of various sizes were randomly stacked along the shelves. At the center of the room stood a massive desk, besieged under a small mountain of debris.

  Kyra stepped forward, raising clouds of dust in her wake. She was beginning to wonder if the store had been abandoned when a man came out from the back, with a surprised and almost frightened look. He adjusted a pair of round glasses on his nose and squinted through them to better see the unexpected visitor.

  “A customer?” he murmured, with a hint of a smile “I was losing all hope!”

  He looked about forty years old, was of medium height, and his baldness revealed much of his scalp. His face, with its sunken eyes and strained lips suggested a deep une
ase.

  “Are you Leon, the draper?”

  “In person” he answered, as a shadow of doubt crossed his face “Who else did you expect?”

  “Nobody else, just you” she said, advancing a step “But I am not here to buy from you.”

  Leon retreated, waving his arms.

  “Leave me alone, I beg you!” he wailed “I have already told you everything! Everything I know, I swear!”

  Kyra outstretched her arms.

  “Calm yourself, you have nothing to fear from me! I come from the village of Mirna, on behalf of Ezer, the fisherman.”

  She pulled the yellowish letter from her pocket, and showed it to him.

  Leon stared at her open-mouthed, but the doubt did not leave his eyes.

  “If you do indeed know him, you must also know his wife’s name…” .

  “Her name is Anna. The old man named his boat after her.”

  “Right... But tell me: how does my dear Anna fare these days?”

  “Not too well actually. She’s been dead for years. And once you are through with these silly games, we must turn to serious matters. I have not come all this way for nothing.”

  An expression of relief crossed Leon’s face. He stepped forward and shook her hand with enthusiasm.

  “At last!” he cried “My letter found its destination! But tell me, where is Ezer? Where is the boy’s father?”

  “He is not here.”

  “He isn’t? And who would you be?”

  “My name is Kyra. Let’s say I am... a family friend. I thought it was too dangerous for the old man to come, so I came in his place.”

  “A brave decision” Leon nodded, studying her. Then, with sad eyes, he said: “I am truly sorry, I did not want you or anyone else involved in this ugly story, but I saw no other way. I hope I haven’t caused you too much trouble...”

  “I am scraping by well enough” said Kyra, and she almost laughed aloud at the thought of the draper’s expression after finding out what she had managed to do in less than a day since her arrival in Dekka.

  “Very good. We need to talk! But where are my manners? Would you like something to drink, a cup of tea perhaps?”

  “No, thank you, there’s no need to...”

  “Have a seat, please, if you can find a chair in this sea of junk! I’m going to get you something.”

  And with those words he disappeared into the back of the shop, leaving Kyra no time to reply. Brimming with impatience, she dropped into the first chair she found, not worrying about the dust. Leon returned a few minutes later carrying a tray on which a porcelain teapot and two old cups were precariously balanced. Kyra tried to swallow at least a finger of the foul, greenish drink, while she rattled off the sequence of events that had led her there.

  Just as she had foreseen, the dealer almost jumped out of his chair when he heard about the Dock Rats.

  “I can’t believe it! You mean that you are now the boss of that gang of thugs? You alone have defeated that mountain of muscle with iron teeth?”

  “Why, do you know him?”

  Leon whistled in admiration.

  “Who doesn’t? I’m gobsmacked! I would have fled with my tail between my legs! I can only hope that all this fuss has not drawn the Watch’s attention to you. It would be very inconvenient, especially if you are serious about helping me...”

  “If I weren’t, I think I would have spared myself the trip, don’t you? But I need more precise information; your letter was too brief. What else do you have to tell me?”

  Leon gazed into the distance as he cast his mind back to the recent past.

  “As you read in my message, there has been no trace of the boy for several days already... Since that accursed night when he decided to satisfy his curiosity and I didn’t even try to hold him back...”

  He adjusted the glasses on his nose.

  “I don’t know how many times I had told him it was dangerous to wander about near the Factory, and even more so to ask questions about it, or about the Automatons! The few who tried paid dearly for it, believe me!”

  “Do you know who’s behind it?”

  “Dinor, the governor, no doubt. And the City Watch on his payroll...”

  “These are potentially damaging accusations. Do you have any proof?”

  “Yes, I have very concrete proof”. Leon groaned and rolled up his sleeves. “I believe it will stay with me for some time yet!”

  His forearms bore several bluish bruises, the unmistakable marks of hostility.

  “This is why I was so scared when you said you had been looking for me. Please excuse my candidness, but I doubt you are accustomed to making a good first impression on people...”

  Kyra raised an eyebrow.

  “What happened to you?”

  “The City Watch. And to think that it is they who are supposed to protect law abiding citizens from scum. Bah!” He shook his head in disgust. “When Ethan vanished, I went to ask for their help. But it didn’t go as I had hoped. They sent me packing with no explanation, and then three of them came to pay me a visit. They questioned me, thinking I knew things that I didn’t... And when they were finally convinced that I knew nothing, they left me these reminders to drop the matter. But they made a terrible mistake!”

  He slammed his fist on the table, and then drew it back, blushing.

  “I am scared, I admit, but I am also furious! I will not take this lying down!” He looked at Kyra with intense eyes. “I have already suffered a great deal in the past because of abuse like this. I don’t want history to repeat itself.”

  “I believe you” said Kyra “And we share the same aim: to find the boy and take him back home safe and sound.”

  “You can count on me! After sending the letter, I didn’t just sit about twiddling my thumbs: I found out some interesting things from Ethan’s closest friends. Apparently, the fool had infiltrated the grounds of the Factory several times before.” He looked at her with curiosity. “You know what I mean, right? Here in Dekka we have spent the last few years talking about it, so it’s no longer a novelty for us. But I would imagine that the Factory and its Automatons are still news outside our walls...”

  Kyra nodded, trembling at the thought of the Automaton guard she had seen the previous day on her way to the docks. That boy Ethan must really be mad to have gone so close to the Factory of his own free will!

  “There is no building larger than the Factory in the whole of Dekka, and perhaps not in the whole Kingdom” said Leon “It is certainly bigger than any other structure I have ever laid eyes on. The surprising thing is that it was built in under a year! And under turbulent conditions, to say the least: an entire district was razed to make way for the foundations, and the City Watch made every effort to keep the curious at a distance.”

  “How were they able to work so fast?”

  “There are rumors that a small army of Automatons took care of all the work, and I am inclined to believe it. And of course nobody I know, neither a casual acquaintance nor a friend, was ever employed in the construction, which I think is rather strange. But where did those damnable machines come from? I am quite sure they did not fall from the sky into the governor’s hands...”

  “Let’s get back to Ethan. Why was he so interested in the Factory?”

  “I cannot say for sure. From what is rumored, the Factory’s only purpose is to produce as much as it can in the shortest time possible. What does it produce? Anything! Think of anything, and you’ll find it on the list. Raw materials enter one side, and finished products come out the other, ready to be traded. At least…, this is the facade that we all are shown...”

  “But…?”

  “But that doesn’t explain all those security measures! Are they really just to keep spies out, as Dinor says? It’s ridiculous! Even if I or anyone else managed to get hold of the Factory projects, we wouldn’t know what to do with them, not without a huge amount of money. A governor, though, with full access to the city’s coffers... Bah! The boy had notic
ed anomalies in the transport of products out of the Factory: there were special wagons loaded with concealed goods, armed escorts, sudden detours... In short, he felt something was wrong, and decided to investigate further.”

  “And he discovered something, right? Something that shocked him.”

  “This is what his friends have confirmed, even though they didn’t seem to know much more than me. That night, when Ethan came to me... He was distraught, I had never seen him like that before. He had a strange light in his eyes when he left. I’m afraid he bit off more than he could chew, and managed to get inside the Factory. As if wandering around outside it were not dangerous enough already! This time, he never came back to tell the story.”

  “So this is your hypothesis: after telling you, Ethan went back to the Factory that same night. He attempted to get in, but someone saw him and he was caught, or even worse. And we still don’t know whether he was alone.”

  “I believe he was. None of his friends appear to be as brave - or rather, as foolhardy - as to follow him in his investigation. Certainly not since he began to hang around the Factory. Any sane person would avoid that place like the plague!”

  “Sensible of them” mused Kyra “Do you know anything else that may come in useful?”

  “No, unfortunately. Ethan always acted with discretion, and that night was no exception. He told his friends only the bare minimum, and this is all I have managed to get from them.”

  “So, correct me if I am wrong, but that seems to leave us only one path” Kyra said, gravely “even though the prospect is not at all enticing. If our only clues point to the Factory, then that’s where we have to begin our search.”

  Leon frowned.

  “I wish I could disagree, but I fear you are right: the Factory is the key to everything.”

  They sat in silence for a while, each considering what to do, until Kyra realized that she was wasting time. She had got the information she had been looking for: now it was up to her to organize an effective plan of action.

  “Thank you, Leon” she declared, leaving the still warm cup on the side; “You are a man of good heart. Few others would risk so much to help someone like Ethan.”

  “Ethan was - no, is! - a special young man” said Leon with a smile, “Brave, selfless, willing to do anything to solve the problems of others. And you are made of the same stuff, Kyra, judging from your intentions. I am but a timid man, trying to save what little dignity I still possess. I will give you all the information I can to help you, but do not ask me to take even a step towards the Factory, I beseech you! I don’t... I can’t do it!”

  It seemed to Kyra that his thoughts had retreated into a distant past.

  “I want everything to be resolved in the best way possible, believe me! If only I were a man of action, instead of what I am...”

  “Don’t be so harsh on yourself” she said, “Have faith, I will solve this matter. I promised that to a friend, and I never make promises lightly.”

  “I am glad to know that” said Leon, with a fleeting hint of a smile.

  “Very well” said Kyra, rising “It’s time to get going.”

  “Wait!” he held her back “I don’t know how you intend to start your quest, but perhaps you will accept some advice...”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “I think it would be foolish to try to enter the Factory from the surface: you would meet with armored doors, patrols of Automatons, and who knows what other kinds of mischief. The boy came across this kind of thing, and it did not help him.”

  “What should I do then? Fly?”

  “Of course not. But I imagine that entering from underground may offer better opportunities.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The old sewer pipes: they form a network beneath the city, and I bet that not all the passages below the Factory are watched over so diligently. Surely some of your Rats must know enough about them to lead you there.”

  “Yes, I guess that could work...”

  “And now a warning, if you will take it: the Dock Rats are not the only band of brigands here in Dekka. There are many more, and I have heard that one of them has established its headquarters somewhere down in the sewers. They are numerous, well armed, and they know the underground system like the palms of their hands. It would be a bad idea to fight them on their home ground. It would be much better to gain their cooperation. If you ever meet with their leader, show him this.”

  He slipped a gold ring from his finger, adorned with a green gem, and gave it to Kyra.

  “I cannot be sure, but I think it will be of help.”

  Kyra weighed the ring in her hand, and looked with curiosity at Leon.

  “Don’t ask” he said, avoiding her unasked question “You will know everything in due course, if fate decrees it. And make sure you don’t lose that ring, I would like to have it back on your return.”

  “As you wish” said Kyra, slipping the ring onto her finger “Thank you again, Leon. You are a resourceful man. I don’t think you have told me all there is to know about you...”

  “It is just your kind impression” he said, accompanying her to the door “Be careful, please. I don’t want another missing person on my conscience.”

  “Fear not, I will return safe and sound, and with the boy.”

  “May the Gods hear you! Farewell, Kyra.”

  “Goodbye, Leon.”

  As soon as the door closed behind her, Fishbone gave a low whistle. He and Otto were loitering on a street corner.

  “Such a long time boss! We were beginning to think you had sneaked out the back... Were you able to conclude your business?”

  “Enough chitchat, Fishbone. Let’s move back to the Old Lantern, I need your help to arrange something.”

  “Ohh! Not even a day in command, and you are ready for action?” he teased “We really are lucky!”

  “You have no idea just how lucky...” said Kyra, wondering what would become of his enthusiasm once the goal of her mission became clear to them all.

  ------

  Leon stood watching them until they had disappeared from view.

  He took off his glasses and laid them on a shelf. They made his head ache every time he put them on. But they were perfect for giving him an air of clumsiness...

  The girl was a real stroke of luck: using the old man as his tool had been a desperate move, with little hope of success, but Kyra’s appearance had changed the cards on the table. She seemed to have skill and cunning; a real fighter. Maybe he would get from her more than he had dared hope for. And all without exposing himself, which was what really mattered in the end.

  Kyra… A pretty girl, as well as a strong one.

  Too bad he had to send her into the belly of the beast...

  He sighed.

  “How many lies, Leon? Until when?”

  On one thing, however, he had not lied: his conscience was already too heavy to bear another loss.

  XII - The Guardian