“Beneath it, more like. The mortals who built these streets did so under instruction from the Night City, little though they knew it. And we have pockets all our own, where no mortals can walk.”
Somebody collided with Emma. “Sorry, clumsy of me. Cool outfit—you going to the vampire party at Wessex?”
A freckled girl grinned up at her. She was wearing a hockey hoodie, with a laptop bag slung over one shoulder. She was also, unmistakably, from the mortal world. Unlike the students in theGabriel dining hall, this one clearly realized Emma existed. The messenger smiled at the girl and nudged Emma on.
Emma tugged him back. “But—she saw me.”
“What did you expect?”
“Nobody else did, earlier.”
“Ah, but observe. That was in daylight. Now it is dark. Humans can see the folk of our world in the night hours, if we take the trouble to make them. We mostly choose to slip past unnoticed. We do not appear in their gaze as strongly as those of their own world, even in the shadow hours.”
Emma filed that away. Another group passed, this time with cloaks and gowns that trailed the pavement. Stubby horns peered from the curls of one figure. Another wore an amethyst gown and a carnival mask. Emma’s first thought was that they must be students in fancy dress, going to the party the freckled girl mentioned. Then the gowned figure laughed, and Emma realized that she wore no carnival mask. A gull’s beak truly sat across the lower half of her face, where a human mouth and nose would be.
“Now,thosefolk are of our own realm,” the messenger whispered.
“You don’t say,” Emma replied with deadly irony.
They passed an arch where a statue screamed with outstretched arms. Emma watched the statue yawn, shake out her wrists, and return to her pose. She turned to the messenger to remark on it, but he was no longer there. Strangely, he was lounging in a doorway far across the street.
“Well, lady mine, I leave you here,” he called.
“You leave me… but this is the middle of nowhere.”
“Ah. So it is.”
The darkness pressed around her. “But—what about the monster?”
“Ah, the monster.” The messenger’s teeth gleamed in the dark. “I’d suggest you run. That way.”
He pointed to a column of light beneath the screaming statue.
“But what—”
Emma turned back. The shadows were empty. He was gone.
Alone in the dark, Emma tried to steel her shaking legs. A sound from the far end of the street made her decision. Not waiting to see if it was the grunt of a boar-man or simply a passing car, she sprinted for the strip of light. Just as she was close enough to see that the light came from an open doorway, her borrowed boots tripped her. She clutched for the doorframe and missed, sprawling into the space beyond.
And the door swung shut behind her.
CHAPTER 19
Emma peeled herself from the floor. Specks of grit were embedded in her cheek. She spat a mouthful of dust and flexed her wrists. Nothing broken, it seemed.
She was in a tiny cell, lit only by slits of light around the door that had slammed behind her. Emma threw herself at it, but it would not budge under her fists. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw a deeper square of shadow in one corner. It was a flight of stairs, leading underground. With a sinking feeling, Emma recognized the silver shape etched into the first step. The same tree she had seen on the Night City messenger’s tunic.
This was a place of the Night City, then. Emma thought of the messenger’s smiling assurances and ground her teeth. He had, technically, led her away from the boar-man. Exactly as he promised.I just never asked where to,Emma thought.So he brought me exactly where the Night City wanted me in the first place.
But there were no uniformed messengers here, no chains, no one forcing her through dark passages to a dungeon. Just the staircase leading into the earth. There was nowhere else to go.
The staircase ran so deep, roots grew down the walls. Down and down went the spiral, until Emma’s breath was a hypnotic wave in her ears, the thud of her feet on the steps her only mark of time. At last, the stairs ended. Emma came out into an earthen passage, its walls streaked with glowing minerals. She stretched out a hand and felt dirt crumble beneath her fingertips. Her mind began to slide back into focus. The wall was real. The boar-man had been real. Perhaps everything the Sister and the messenger had told her was real too. That she was not a mortal; she was—something else. That the Night City wanted her for something. That the consequences would not be a dream she could wake up from.
Emma felt panic lock her lungs. She steadied herself against the wall. This was not a death sentence. She was alive, and free to wander. She would think of it as an opportunity for information. If she could find out how and why this had happened to her, then she could find out how to undo it. She pushed herself upright, balling her hands into fists.
To one side, the passage was cobwebbed and dank, with a single door. But the other end of the passage glowed gold. Emma blinked, blinded by pearlescent light, and saw in the distance a great gilded hall, held up by living trees of gold and silver. Fruits carved from gemstones dripped from the branches. Beneath, music floated over a crowd dressed as brightly as a bower of spring flowers, their laughter tinkling like bells.
“Oh,” Emma breathed. Was this what she had been summoned to? The Court of the Night City. She could not think why she had been so afraid. It was beautiful. And she would be beautiful within it. The music would run through her like rivulets of sunlight, andshe would dance. Her feet were already servants to the melody. They sped faster, faster, toward the golden hall.
