"You know, there's something liberating about not wearing the coat," Coraline remarked to Natalina, as they made their way to the cargo elevator. "Suddenly people stop looking at me like I'm going to light them on fire."
Natalina smirked as the passing waves of people swept by them, indifferent as if she and Coraline were just streetlamps to dodge. It was hard to imagine being the centre of attention, to so many, on a regular basis.
"That's sort of what I'm going for. People with power tend to panic when that power is threatened, and your coat alone would give you the power of another gang boss down there," Natalina remarked.
"That's not entirely why I agreed to leave my coat behind," Coraline said. "There's an unwritten rule in the Guild about going into the Undercity. We don't do it."
"Why not?" Natalina asked.
"For exactly that reason. Any crafter is a battalion of firepower, in a single person. One graduated member of the Guild could walk into the Undercity, and make themselves a boss. In hours. The reason we don't is if the Undercity falls apart, the Undercity doesn't meet its quotas. Every reason that last op-ed piece of yours mentioned. We can't risk the quotas," Coraline said.
Natalina nodded, as they wandered into a massive warehouse with an immense, elaborate glass archway.
"What about potentials born in the Undercity?" Natalina asked. "What happens to them?"
"As long as they're weaker than the reject that eventually finds them, they're trained to become future enforcers. There's rarely any emphasis on self-discipline or restraint, so the training goes terribly wrong as often as not," Coraline explained, sombrely. "Often, even if the training takes, it means the teacher ends up that much closer to madness."
Natalina nodded. "And the potentials that are stronger than their teachers?"
"They're killed," Coraline said simply.
Natalina found herself unable to imagine a response. Instead, she quietly lead them to the cargo elevator and joined a small throng of people making their way inside.
The gate shut just as Coraline stepped inside, with a vicious bang that made the crafter jump.
Natalina smirked a little, as Coraline glared at the door indignantly.
"So, Coraline, why are you so interested in the Undercity?" Natalina asked, a few moments after the elevator began to descend.
"There's the reporter in you," Coraline remarked. "I'd rather not talk about it, frankly. We'll just keep calling it eccentric altruism for now."
Natalina nodded, not willing to press.
The elevator fell swiftly, but it was still several long minutes before the ride even began to slow, and several more before they arrived.
The elevator stopped at the end of a poorly lit cavern, one that smelled badly of ash, tinged with the sharp, acidic scent of burnt metal. Natalina wrinkled her nose and coughed once, but Coraline only smiled as the same smell left the crafter unfazed.
"At some point, this is what everything a Crafter does smells like," Coraline explained. "This is what some of my best work smells like, just as it's finished."
Natalina smiled and shook her head, bemused. She lead the way out of the elevator and stepped out into the faint torchlight reflecting off the seared stone.
"We're going to start our search at The Derelict Inspector," Natalina explained. "It's a dive bar, but I've always suspected the owner knows a lot more than he lets on. He was extremely helpful when I was working on that last op-ed piece, he knew a fair bit about the quota system."
"Sounds promising," Coraline nodded and shrugged, seemingly content to follow for the moment.
"I was also given a hint by Redgrave. He mentioned that this boss was bribing a hospital by providing it pure alcohol," Natalina explained.
"Okay," Coraline said, with a shrug. "So?"
"Where would you look for a place in the Undercity capable of making alcohol?" Natalina asked, with a grin.
The Derelict Inspector was ahead, the light shone through its open door as a quiet, plaintive tune carried through the air. Natalina smiled, as she once again glanced down at her shirt, and suspected it was too clean.
Natalina lead them inside, and took an empty stool near the bar, reaching into her pocket and drawing out one of her lottery tokens.
"Two pints of the local house brew," Natalina said to the back of the barkeeper, setting the coin down on the bar.
The barkeep glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes lingering on the coin set on the table.
"The ale here really isn't that good," the barkeep said, though he turned around and reached over to grab the coin.
Before he could grab it, Natalina leaned her thumb on the token, and added, "and a few questions."
The barkeep gave her a long, appraising look before he shrugged. "It's your coin."
The barkeep turned away and pulled three pewter mugs from the shelf, slowly filling them with one of the smaller casks higher up. He filled all three and set two of the mugs in front of Natalina and Coraline.
He left the third nearby and pulled a stool over. "Talking can be hard on the throat," he said, noticing Coraline's disapproving expression before Natalina did.
Coraline shrugged after a moment, and Natalina gestured in front of her, inviting the barkeep to sit.
"So," the barkeep said, as he sat down. "How would you like to waste your lottery winnings?"
"I'm hoping to get an audience with a gang boss," Natalina said, foregoing subtlety. She has imagined a dozen different ways this conversation could go in her head, and had given up on trying to keep her motivation secret.
"Really? Now, what would a nice reporter lady from the upper City want with a gang boss down here? Looking to trade some contraband for a nice time?" The barkeep asked.
"When I said a few questions, I was more interested in having mine answered," Natalina said.
"Fair point," the barkeep replied. "But in a lot of ways, that depends on the gang. Some respond better to bribes, and others, you need recommendations."
"I see," Natalina nodded to herself. "I imagine you know a few people you could point me to."
"Perhaps," the barkeep said, as he tapped his knuckles on the metal bar.
Just as the barkeep stood up, the two doors leading back behind the bar opened, and nearly a dozen people entered the room. Some of them spoke to each other, all of them wore weapons at their belts, and they casually took positions in a wide circle around Natalina and Coraline.
"Now, I understand what you think you've paid for," the barkeep said. "But I admit to a fierce curiosity about what brings you down here. What-"
The barkeep stopped. His confident, almost smarmy grin vanished like a wisp of smoke in a storm, and his hands clutched hard at the pewter mug in front of him.
"Estoban?" The barkeep asked, his eyes fixed on someone to Natalina's left.
Which was odd, because Coraline was sitting on Natalina's right.
Natalina followed the barkeep's gaze, turning her shoulders and craning her neck to look at one of the crowd of thugs who now surrounded them.
The woman was thinner than Coraline. Slightly taller, with ash stained into her clothes and scarf, and a pair of metal sticks holding her hair in place. Her eyes were wide, her hands held in front of her and she was taking slow, tentative steps backwards.
And asides from small differences, this Undercity woman looked oddly familiar.
To Natalina's side, Coraline stood, slid off her barstool, and advanced on the woman.
One of the other thugs made a move to restrain Coraline, but the woman backing away barked harshly. "Don't. We're in more danger than any of you know."
"Mari," Coraline said. Natalina could hear the Crafter's voice quiver with emotion.
The woman backing away stopped, and let her hands fall to her sides. "Cori, I'm sorry."
Coraline strode forward stepped up to the woman and threw her arms around her.
"Mari, I found you. I finally, finally found you," Coraline sobbed, as she buried her head into the woman's shoulder.
The woman Coraline was holding sobbed, stumbled, and nearly fell, as Coraline had to help hold her upright. They cried together, sobbing gentle tears and muttering incoherently.
"Marigold?" the barkeep asked, but his tone was hesitant and gentle.
"She doesn't hate me, boss. This is my sister, and she doesn't hate me," Marigold said, as she and Coraline held each other as if the entire City were trying to tear them apart.
"Marigold, your family?" the barkeep asked, a smile stretching his mouth wide.
Natalina jumped when he slammed his fist on the table, took all three mugs on the counter, and dumped them on the floor.
"None of us are drinking this swill. Stempfor, go to the back and grab one of the metal casks we stole from that High Central gala a few months ago. What did they call the stuff, mead?" the barkeep ordered. "Dartman, get another dozen mugs. The nice ones, not the ones Bethra spits in to clean. It's burning past time we had something to celebrate."
The entire bar erupted into cheers, and new mugs were pressed into Marigold and Caroline's hands, as they were lead to a table. Others from the bar set sweets, and a pitcher of ale that was likely stolen.
"Give them some space!" the barkeep called out. "Let them talk."
The barkeep shook his head, and signed. "I don't think you fully understand what you've done for her, lady."
"It's Natalina Casper, actually." Natalina said, introducing herself.
"Casper? Of the Tributary?" the barkeep asked.
Natalina hesitated before answering. "Is that a good thing?"
The barkeep grinned, and pointed to a nearby wall.
The rock wall was decorated with a single, framed document, set behind a sheet of glass. The document's writing was small, impossible to read from where Natalina sat, but the title was just large enough for her to make out.
It read 'The Revolution that will Never Be'.
"This is an auspicious day in my little bar," the barkeep muttered, just as one of the men dispatched to retrieve something from the back returned. He set two new mugs down, filled them both with a foamy, golden coloured liquid, and set one down in front of Natalina.
"My name is Stenman Xavier," the barkeep said. "I'm the head of the Porters."