Nightside 03 - Nightingales Lament

"I hope very much there isn't going to be a next time."
    "Just how much of my life force did we use up on this stunt anyway?"
    "Surprisingly little. It seems there is more to you than meets the eye, John. Mind you, there would have to be."
    "You were dead!" said Mr. Cavendish, just a little shrilly. He sounded like he might be going to cry. "You were all dead, and now you're alive again! It just isn't fair!"
    "That's the trouble with the Nightside," Mrs. Cavendish said sulkily. "You can't rely on people staying dead. Next time, do remember to bring some thermite bombs with us."
    "Quite right, Mrs. Cavendish. Still, they all look decidedly weakened by whatever unnatural thing it was they just did, so I think it's back to the old reliable bullet in the head. Lots of them, this time."
    "Exactly, Mr. Cavendish. If we can't have Rossignol, no-one can."
    They aimed their reloaded guns at her. I moved to put myself between her and the guns, but that was all I could do. My time in the dark had taken everything else out of me, for the moment. I looked at Dead Boy, who shrugged.
    "Sorry, I'm running on empty, too. Rossignol, any chance of a song?"
    "Darling, right now I couldn't even squeak out a note. There must be something we can do!"
    "Oh, shut up and die," said Mrs. Cavendish.
    The two of them approached us, guns extended, taking their time, enjoying seeing their enemies helpless before them. They were going to shoot us all, and I had no magics left to stop them. But I've never relied on magic to get me through the many and varied dangers of the Nightside. I've always found using my wits and being downright sneaky much more reliable. So I waited till the Cavendishes were right in front of me, then I dug a good handful of pepper out of my hidden stash and threw it right into their smug, smiling faces They both screamed pitifully as the pepper ground into their eyes, and I slapped the guns out of their flailing hands and gave the two of them a good smack round the back of the head, just on general principles. Dead Boy kicked their feet out from under them, and they ended up sitting on the stage, huddled together and clawing frantically at their streaming eyes.
    "Condiments," I said easily. "Never leave home without them. And once the Authorities get here, I'll rub salt into your wounds as well."
    At which point, an unconscious combat magician came flying onto the stage from the wings, upside down and bleeding heavily. He'd barely hit the stage with a resounding thud before two more combat magicians were backing quickly onto the stage, retreating from an unseen foe. Zen magics spat and shimmered on the air before them, as their rapidly moving hands wove cat's cradles of defensive magics. But Julien Advent, the great Victorian Adventurer himself, was more than a match for them. He bounded onstage with marvelous energy, dodging the thrown spells with practiced skill, and proceeded to run rings around the bewildered combat magicians with breathtaking acrobatics and vicious fisticuffs. He moved almost too quickly to be seen, impossibly graceful, smiling all the time, smiting down the ungodly with magnificent ease.
    Being an editor for thirty years didn't seem to have slowed him down at all.
    He finally stood over three unconscious combat magicians, not even breathing hard, the bastard. Dead Boy and Ross and I applauded him because, you had to, really. Julien Advent actually was all the things they said he was. He shot me a quick grin as he took in the defeated Cavendishes.
    "I see the cavalry probably wasn't needed after all. Good work, John. We were afraid we might be a little overdue."
    I'd only just started to process the word we and get the beginnings of a really bad feeling, when Walker strolled on from the wings, and all I could think was Oh shit. I'm really in trouble now.
    Walker strode over to consider the weeping, red-eyed Cavendishes, his face as always completely calm and utterly unreadable. Walker, in his neat city suit and bowler hat, representative of the Authorities, and quite possibly the most dangerous man in the Nightside. He had been given power over everyone and everything in the Nightside, and if you were wise, you didn't ask by whom. I would have run like hell, if I'd had any strength left.
    The Cavendishes became aware of Julien's presence. They forced themselves up onto their feet and faced him defiantly. He studied their faces for a long moment, his smile gone, his eyes cold.
    "I've always known who you