34 Cal

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Cal went down the street at a quick trot. He did not know where he was going. Harlan had pointed out the direction that the taxicab had left carrying Dapper Jack and Emiliana, but that was little help. The cab had not headed straight towards the fashionable Lew where Dapper Jack might have accompanied the girl to Bellea’s or any number of clothing and department stores. Not that there was a straight route, for the streets on the various districts of Delta Mouth wound around in circles that followed the contours of the islands or branched off suddenly to cross the canals on one of the city’s hundreds of bridges.

He could go to the Lew and stop by the Hotel di Ferello. Perhaps Vincent or one of his staff might have seen Dapper Jack go by. But his feet would not take that direction. In the pit of his stomach Cal already knew, as Helen had, that Dapper Jack had not come to take Emiliana Josephine shopping. He would not find them at Bellea’s. He would not find them on the Lew. If he found them at all, it would be too late.

One of the smaller footbridges was on his left, both ends guarded by statues of a horse with a curling fish’s tail. He walked beneath the arched neck of the hippocampus on the Torgove side and stopped in the middle of the span to look down into the canal. He half expected to see Emiliana’s body floating there, or Minnie’s. Instead there was only the usual gray, sludgy water carrying the waste of the city out to the sea.

He passed the second statue and crossed the next island. It was one of the smaller ones, but crowded with tenements and boarding houses for the men who worked on the docks and passed through the ports. The Pels and Plains were well-mixed here, like the statues on the bridge. Scrawny kids chased chickens down the alleys and into the cooking pots that steamed on the street corners. The groups of men clustered near the little stands to buy dumplings in chicken broth took no particular notice of Cal as he walked among them. A few might have been occasional customers at Minnie’s, for they tipped their hats to him. Perhaps he should ask one them if they seen a taxi go by—but no one would have taken any particular notice of a taxi. There were three on the street right now. The only thing that would have been remarkable would have been Dapper Jack, and who would be foolish enough to remark the knife man’s dark presence?

“I don’t understand why everyone hates the railroad so much.” Cal whipped his head around in the direction the voice came from. His knees went weak and he stumbled. “The railroad is the future,” Minnie said. “It will change everything.”

“Oh no, no, no—what are you doing here?” Cal whispered.

“You alright, mister?” There was a man at his elbow, looking at Cal with a worried crinkle on his forehead.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He fumbled for his pocket watch as Minnie laughed. “I’m just late. Thank you.” He hurried away, not looking back to see if the man followed him or stood in the street wondering at his strange behavior.

He dodged around one of the taxis, which was crawling slowly down the street, brushed past the crowd waiting to fill their bowls on the corner, and turned down the next street.

“Try to see things from my point of view.”

Minnie was still beside him. He risked a glance to the side and watched her transparent form slide through a man walking the other direction on the street. He was a burly fellow with a oilskin jacket over a thick sweater and a flatcap pulled low over his forehead, well-used to shifting cargo on the docks in all weather. As Minnie passed over him, the man was seized by a sudden, violent shiver. Cal walked faster, turning often, crossing bridges whenever he came to them. Minnie trailed after him, still ranting and leaving a chill on anyone unlucky enough to find themselves in her path. Cal came to a narrow intersection, looked both ways, and chose the direction with the fewest people.

When he had first come to Delta Mouth, Minnie had been a fresh, open wound in his heart and mind. She had chased him along his relay route from Halen to Japeth and back again, until he’d bent to her wish to come to the city. That had not helped, for she followed him through the streets. An old woman with a face like sun-shriveled fruit had told him that the spirits of the dead could not cross running water. Unfortunately, he had never found this to be true. Reuben had been the only one who could give him a measure of control over Minnie’s presence.

“Stop it!” Minnie said loudly, just as Cal was brought up short by the thought of Reuben.

The chalk—he must have smudged it when he fell against the doorframe.

“Cal, let go! Let me go!”

Cal looked down at his jacket. There it was, a long white smear on the right side below his arm. He brushed at the chalk with his left hand and shook his dusty fingers at Minnie. “Go away!” She screamed and fell backwards, disappearing into the cobblestones.

For a minute there was quiet, or at least only the usual rumble and rush of the city around him. Cal closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt the cotton cloth of his shirt shift over his chest, felt the cool air feathering through his hair. He had left without his hat.

He had left in a hurry. To look for Emiliana.

“Cal, I need to talk to you,” Minnie said.

He opened his eyes. Minnie floated in front of him. He could see the lamppost through her face. Its line was paralleled by the straight dark braids hanging down over her shoulders. “I’m leaving,” she said.

Cal patted down his jacket. There was nothing in his pockets. The green glass bottle was somewhere in his room above the nightclub.

“There isn’t anything here for me. I’m going to Delta Mouth.”

Cal began to run.

Minnie trailed behind him.

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