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And I knew, then. "You told them I was going to be here."
"Welcome back, John. The old place hasn't been the same without you."
Something moved like a fleeting shadow, or a
passing breeze, and there was no-one standing beneath the neon sign. The alley was empty, apart from
all the scattered body parts, and the blood sliding down the walls. I should have known. Everyone has
their own agenda, in the Nightside. Joanna raised her pale face to look at me.
"Is it over?"
"Yes. It's over."
"I'm sorry. I know I should have run. But I was so scared. I've never been that scared before."
"It's all right," I said. "Not everyone can swim when they're thrown in the deep end. Nothing in your old
life could ever have prepared you for the Harrowing."
"I always thought I could cope with anything," she said quietly. "I've always had to be hard1 to be a
fighter to protect my interests, and those of my child. I knew the game, how it was played. How to use
.., what I have, to get my own way, do all the other people down. But this ... this is beyond me. I feel like
a child again. Lost Helpless. Vulnerable."
"The rules aren't that different," I said, after a while. "It's still all about the powerful, getting away with
murder because they can. And a few of us who won't be beaten down. Fighting our corner, helping those
we can, because we must."
"My hero," said Joanna, smiling slightly for the first time.
"I'm no hero," I said, very definitely. "I just find
things. I'm not here to clean up the Nightside. It's too big, and I'm too small. I'm just one man, using
what gifts I have to help my clients, because everyone should have someone to turn to, in time of need."
"I never met a man I respected," said Joanna. "Before now. You could have run and left me. Saved
yourself. But you didn't. My hero."
She raised her mouth to mine, and after a moment, we kissed. She was warm and comforting in my
arms, pressing against my body, and for the first time in a long time, I felt alive again. For a time, I was
happy. It was like waking up in a foreign country. Afterwards, we sat there on the bloody cobbles for a
while, holding each other. And nothing else mattered at all.
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Storming the Fortress
I hailed a horse and carnage to take us to the Fortress. It was too damned far to walk, especially after
that business outside Strangefellows, and I felt in distinct need of a bit of a sit-down. And it was probably
a good idea to get my face off the streets for a while. The horse came trotting over, glaring down any
traffic that looked like getting in his way. He was a huge brute of a Clydesdale, white as the moon, with
broad shoulders and massive silver-hoofed feet, hauling an ornate nineteenth-century hansom carriage, of
dark ebony and sandalwood, with solid brass trimmings. The man sitting up top, wrapped in an old
leather duster, was carrying a five-foot-long
blunderbuss, its long stock etched with offensive charms and sigils. He looked carefully about him as the
horse manoeuvred the carriage in beside Joanna and me, clearly ready to use his huge gun at a moment's
notice. Joanna had recovered most of her composure by now, if not all her old arrogance, but she was
immediately charmed by the horse. She went immediately over to him, to pat his shoulder and rub his
nose. The horse whinnied appreciatively.
"What a wonderful animal," said Joanna, almost cooing. "Do you think he'd like some sugar, or a
sweetie?"
"No thanks, lady," said the horse. "Gives me cavities. And I hate going to the dentist. Wouldn't say no to
a carrot, mind, if you had such a thing about your person."
Joanna blinked a few times, and then looked at me accusingly. "You do this to me deliberately. Every
time I think I'm finally getting my head round the Nightside, you spring something like this on me. I swear,
my nerves are sitting in a corner, crying their eyes out." She looked back at the horse. "Sorry. No
carrots."
"Then get in the carriage and stop wasting my time," said the horse. 'Time is money, in this business, and
I've got payments to make."
"Excuse me," said Joanna, diffidently, "but am I to understand that this ... is your carriage? You're in
charge here?"
"Damn right," said the horse. "Why not? I do all the hard work. Out in all weathers, wearing grooves in
my shoulders from this bloody harness. And I know every road, route, and resurfaced bypass in the
Nightside, plus a whole bunch of short cuts that aren't on anybody's maps. You name it, and I can get
you there, and faster than any damned cab."
"And the ... gentleman up top?" said Joanna.
"Old Henry? He's just there to take the fares, make change, and ride shotgun. No-one messes with us,
unless they fancy going home with their lungs in a bucket. Handy things, hands. Once I've paid off the
bank, I'm thinking about investing in some cybernetic arms. If only so I can scratch my own damned
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nose. Now are we going to stand around talking all night, for which I charge extra, or are we actually
going somewhere?"
"You know the Fortress?" I said.
"Oh sure. No problem. Though I think I'll drop you off at the end of the block. Never know when those
crazies are going to start shooting again."
Old Henry grunted loudly in agreement and hefted his blunderbuss. I held open the carriage door for
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