17 – Siege

Mike wanted to laugh when the shaking woke him. There was nothing else he could do; all he wanted was a good night's sleep, and now after a clean bed in a clean room for the first time in his life he had the joy of sleep taken from him.

It took a little longer to realise that the shaking wasn't just him, and it only happened because the misshapen wardrobe toppled over with a creaking thud. The walls were pulsing blue in time with the shaking, spots around it brightening and shockwaves rippling out from them as impacts came from the outside. There was a rough pattern: four on one wall, left to right, and then four on the next, on all three sides that bordered other rooms.

Crow was standing in a low crouch in the centre of the room, turning slowly and always facing the impacts. His mouth was set in a thin line, and his legs were tensed to spring; in his hand was the sheet of metal.

Janey was busily folding and unfolding the fallen wardrobe to brace against one wall, eyes opening and shutting as she went. Mike moved over, licking his lips and sticking the base of it to the floor; she shot him a quick smile with both eyes open before moving back to work.

After a minute, Janey stepped back from the wardrobe, and Mike pointed at it, crossing his fingers. A thick sheen of blue light settled on it before sinking in, more quickly than with the walls.

Mike spoke first, his voice a whisper. "What do we do?"

Crow shook his head. "They chose fast. Won't be too prepared."

"So what?"

He hefted the metal. "Fight our way out."

Janey stared at him, shaking her head sharply. "Mike can't."

Crow laughed, then, a deep, booming laugh, and the impacts stopped at the sound of it. His voice was still a whisper. "They weren't expecting to have to. Can you get me a look at them?"

Mike walked to one wall, nodding, and poked it. There was a flare in the blue glow that had embedded itself in the walls, before his finger tore through, leaving a tiny hole to the outside. Crow knelt next to it and peered through, before moving back, a grim look on his face.

"Red and blue. Sorry, but I think this means Esther did turn us in." Crow straightened up and faced the hole, raising his voice. "I don't remember Chase being this brave, lads. Are you really getting paid enough for this?"

There was silence outside, followed by a loud cough. "We're not here for you, Crow."

"So I can go?"

Nervous laughter filtered through the hole. "If you can get out, we won't stop you."

He grinned at them, whispering again. "I think that's our cue."

Mike pointed at the wall to the alley, and whispered. "Open."

The wall seemed to tense, the wallpaper stretching out but not quite opening; the blue glow rose to the surface, pulling and tightening like a bandage over an opening wound. Janey stared at him.

"What did you do?"

"I don't know!" His whisper had risen to a loud hiss. "I can't un-strengthen it, we forgot to learn how."

"So seal it again."

Mike pointed again, and whispered. "Seal."

The straining stopped, and – very, very slowly – the blue glow receded back into the wall.

"Sorry, lads, looks like I won't be leaving." Crow forced the lightness back into his voice. "Don't suppose you feel like giving up?"

There was no reply.

Janey shook her head. "We can't stay here forever."

"Believe me, we can't go out there either." Crow sighed. "Tin Street isn't the worst Harold Chase does to people, and he's had a grudge against me for years. That won't help."

Janey's eyes widened. "Worse?"

"Most of the doors in the tunnel you took to get here in the first place lead right to some of the worst ones." Crow shuddered. "Some of them, nobody comes out, but there are always stories."

"So what other choice do we have?" Mike looked at him. "Starving to death?"

"Like I said earlier. Fighting our way out." Crow sighed. "I don't think you two should watch this."

"How are you even going to get out there to fight them?"

"You only reinforced the walls." Crow slammed the metal into the floor, twice, three times. "This should give them something to worry about."

"You won't get through that way!" Laughter came through again from outside. "I don't care what you've got, these walls aren't coming down for anyone just yet."

Crow grinned, waving Mike over, and he stepped closer and pointed at the floor, whispering. "Open."

The carpet rucked up into tiny waves, rippling out from the middle of the room; in the centre, a tiny sliver of wood poked up, and then fanned outward. It spread in a spiral, beginning as a thin spike and growing into a small square. The edges seemed to stay straight lines, but at the corners they warped and crossed, growing faster in some directions than others, but Crow began peering through as soon as it was wide enough for both eyes and lowering himself through it the moment it widened enough for his shoulders.

He pointed to the gap as he went down, raising one hand and closing it slowly. Mike nodded, and he vanished below the floor.

Mike sighed, pointing to the hole – its spinning had slowed, now, settling into a square border of dark wood – and whispered. "Seal."

Obligingly, the floor closed, moving in a whirlpool spiral inwards to a point. From below, there were no sounds. A long minute passed in silence, both of them listening hard for any signs of Crow's progress; nothing happened, and then everything did at once.

At the top of the stairs, there were two men, both of them paying more attention to the impacts on the walls of the room than the stairs. Crow came across the ceiling, bracing his knees against either side, but they didn't even look over, much less up. When he swung his upper body down, one arm crashing into each of their heads with almost his full weight, the only sound came when they hit the steps on the way down.

He could see three more of the dozen, each with a sturdy column of metal under an arm, and as he finished the swing and pressed himself against the ceiling again they turned towards the clatter. They should have been able to see him, but it was still dark outside, and they hadn't dared light any of the lamps in the house, relying on one portable lantern for the three – no matter how useful it would have been, or how necessary, Harold Chase would never miss a chance to charge them for the oil.

The three of them had, at least, some common sense. Only one walked over to the stairs, the other two staying back, but that was enough. Crow pressed his palms against the walls and swung one leg down, and it made contact with the sound of punching a pillow, a heavy thud into the man's stomach sending him to the ground.

The other two moved back, one going to each other room, and Crow took the chance to swing down and throw the man he'd winded down the stairs. There was another impact as he landed against the bannister, but by that time Crow had already turned annd begun to climb up the corner of the room, bracing himself next to the door to the storage room.

They came through the door one behind the other, which meant that when he swung an arm down into the neck of the first in line, it delayed them all. He dropped down onto the first to recover and head through the door, landing knee-first on his ribcage; there were three more behind them, and as the first tensed to fight back, he pulled the wheezing man he'd already landed on out of the way and slammed the door. Turning quickly and leaping back up, he braced against the corner; the four men who had been in the bathroom were spreading out across the landing.

One of them coughed. "No hard feelings, right, Crow?"

He shrugged. "If you don't get up, I won't put you down again."

One of the others dropped to the ground, and Crow laughed. "One of you's overqualified for this job."

The one who had spoken stepped forwards, and met a palm to the neck. He stayed on his feet for a second, and Crow pressed a forearm across his chest, stepping closer and shoving. After that, he joined the other on the ground; the two still on their feet rushed in.

He crouched, before launching himself upwards, one hand grabbing each of their jaws and pulling them over backwards. They landed with a pair of dull thuds, and didn't stand up again.

A sharp point pressed into his back.

"We said you could leave." The voice from behind him carried a sneer. "Too good for mercy?"

Crow flicked his heel up behind him, and the pressure vanished as it crunched into a kneecap. The other man looked at him for a long second, before walking in a wide arc around him to the stairs. Crow didn't relax until he was out of sight, and then sighed.

"The rest of you had better get your friends and leave."

There was a pause.

"If you don't start moving soon, I'm going to have to make sure you're out of commission myself."

Three of the men levered themselves up to their feet – the one who had chosen to just lie down among them – and Crow shot him a grin as he gathered up another. "Three trips. Get it done quickly."

It took a while for all the intruders to be gathered up and taken out, and once they were, Crow knocked – as loudly as he could – on one wall of Mike's bedroom. "It's dealt with."

The wall pulsed softly, and a sheen of blue light rose to the surface before dissipating. A moment later, the surface rippled, and the plaster receded from the doorframe. The door uncovered was slightly ajar, and Janey flung it open before he could reach it, rushing towards him and grabbing him in a tight hug.

"What did you do?" Her eyes were wide. "I couldn't see anything!"

He scratched the back of his head. "I knocked most of them out, and talked one or two more into giving up."

Mike blinked. "How many were there?"

"A dozen or so." He shrugged. "None of them were really trying."

"What."

Crow laughed. "I'm serious. It's a good deal all around."

Mike shook his head. "Nobody would just let you do that."

"So who loses out?" He began to count off on his fingers. "They get a headache at worst afterwards, I get to not try too hard to run, and everyone I stole from gets to act like I'm superhuman. It makes it less embarrassing that I beat them, and if I climb about the room enough, people start to believe it."

"Including you?" Janey grinned.

"Until I met you pair, I'd have said so." He sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I love the magic, but couldn't you have let me know a bit more gently that I wasn't all that special?"

Mike frowned. "It's got to be a bad system if everyone just lets you win fights."

"Bad for who?"

"Bad at being fair." Mike hummed. "What's the point in having all these edicts if nobody cares about following them?"

Janey frowned. "Why are they going after us if they don't even care?"

"I think we'd better find my sister for some questions, don't you?" Crow sighed. "It's looking a lot like she's the one behind all this."

"How do we find her?"

Crow shrugged. "We follow the tunnel."