Shadows of Valderia: An Urban Fantasy Detective Noir

Sometimes, Wally was right, in his own way. Timmy sat back, with his feet up in front of the fire and gave a pleasant little belch, listening to the rain tinkling on the windows. It had taken three different cafes before they found one that wasn’t suddenly closing for the day at the sight of two policemen. The one they had found was a pleasant little corner cafe run by an ancient Goblin matron. She had supplied them with hot coffee, and then cold cider, while they tucked into some sort of surprisingly delicious stew. They knew better than to enquire what was in the stew but it was nourishing and hearty. They had eaten their fill, and were now posted up in front of a nice little fireplace letting their boots dry and drinking hot spiced wine. All in all, it was a pleasant change from the cold cobbles, the drizzling rain, and the frigid looks of the public. Wally snored gently to his left, with his cloak wrapped around himself like a blanket and his helmet slid down over his eyes. Timmy watched the clouds darken overhead as the sun disappeared and checked the clock on the wall. Was that the time already? Their shift was almost up.

“Wally.” Timmy shook his partner awake.

“Wah… wot is it?” Timmy murmured bleary eyed.

“Shift’s nearly over.”

“Is it?” Wally stretched languidly and yawned. “Cor… I could do with a pint. Let’s get back to the precinct then the first round’s on you.”

Wally stood up and swished his cloak around his shoulders. The old Goblin matron looked up from the counter she was fastidiously polishing. Wally made eye contact with her and gave her a small smile and a nod.

“Cheers for the hospitality gran.” With that he made for the door.

“Hold on, we need to pay,” Timmy said, reaching for his wallet.

“Naa, I’m sure it’s been a pleasure ‘avin’ two coppers stopped by in such a troubled time,” Wally said, still grinning at the old matron.

She worked her tongue around her mouth, her eyes narrowed, and she gave a brief nod.

“Iss okay. Next time.”

“See? Taa very much,” Wally pulled open the door.

“But… we should pay,” Timmy said.

“Come on Tim!”

“But… are you sure?” Timmy asked the matron.

She looked from Timmy to Wally and she gave a terse little nod.

“Iss okay.”

“Come on!”

Timmy dithered for a moment before nodding and thanking the matron on his way out. The wind had whipped up now and was slanting the rain straight into their faces. Everything seemed bathed in a concrete grey as the last light of the day faded.

“We should have paid. We’re not allowed to take bribes.” Timmy said to Wally as he pulled the hood of his cloak up.

“That weren’t a bribe,” Wally said, his face tinged red with the ruddiness of a good buzz.

“Receiving any goods or services for free while on duty is considered a bribe.”

“Naa… that was just… perk of the job.” Wally meandered away with his head high. “Ain’t so bad being a copper if you do it properly.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t,” Timmy said, catching him up.

“I mean all that detectoring and chasing down villains and all that, that sort of fing is better in the stories. This, walking the cobbles, being respected by the community, ‘aving a lovely lunch and getting out the rain, that’s proper coppering.”

“It is?”

“Corse! Why would you wanna go getting yourself involved in all that crime stuff when you could have your feet up and stay out of the way? I mean look at us! We got full bellies, our boots is dry, and we’ve had a couple of cheeky pints. Does it get any better?” Wally gesticulated enthusiastically, his eyes bright and a stupid grin plastered on his face.

“And we didn’t pay for any of it,” Timmy grumbled.

“Exactly!”

“But that ain’t why I became a copper. I wanted to catch the bad guys and be a detective…”

“And look where that got us! Nose to nose with the bloomin’ Landlord and dragged up in front of the Cap’n and that bloody politician. I’m sorry Tim, but your way ain’t for people like us. We’re normal like. Just ordinary people of the city. We ain’t supposed to get accommodations and be in the paper and all that. We’re supposed to read the paper… or at least skip to the back for the ‘orse racing. We should be concernin’ ourselves with keepin’ our heads down, our feet dry, and our bellies full.”

“Maybe… you’re right,” Timmy said. 7

A part of him still yearned for the chase and the excitement, but the last few days had left a bad taste in his mouth. It seemed like all he had got for his troubles… was more trouble. Trying to be a real copper had got him ridiculed, interrogated, and he almost had his head caved in by real villains. Doing it Wally’s way had left him with a full stomach and pleasant warmth in his cheeks.

“Corse I’m right! Stick with me Timmy mate and every day will be like this one. No more chasing shadows and playing detective for us. Now it’s just ‘ot food, cold drinks, and the odd midday nap! What more could a fella want?”

“That does sound nice,” Timmy admitted.

They were laughing and bumping into each other playfully when Wally nudged Timmy off the curb. He stumbled into the street and in a flash a screaming horse and cart flew by him, whipping his cloak around and knocking him over. As the cart zipped by Timmy caught the sight of several dark hooded figures hunched over in the back. It was only a flashing glance, but Timmy distinctly saw the face of a Human swaddled deep in a black cloak.

“Oi! Slow down you madman!” Wally shouted after the cart, shaking his fist. “You okay Tim?”

“Yeah,” Timmy said shakily as Wally helped him to his feet and tried to wipe down his sodden cloak.

“Bloody loonies. Fancy driving like that, they could ‘ave ‘urt someone!”

“I-I-I think they are going to hurt someone,” Timmy looked at the way the horse had gone.

“Drivin’ like that they will,” Wally said blithely. “Come on, let’s get back to the precinct ‘fore anymore nutters come out.”

“No, Wally, I mean I think they’re on their way to hurt someone. Those were humans in the back of that cart.”

“‘Umans? What would ‘umans be doin’ down ‘ere… well other than us?”

“Nothing good,” Timmy said, looking down at the blood on the scraped heel of his hand.

“All the more reason we need to get out of ‘ere. C’mon, we can get to the precinct round the other way…”

“We should have a look at least,” Timmy said.

“You sure you even seen them? They went by pretty quick,” Wally said, his voice holding a pleading tone.

“I’m sure… sort of. Come on, we’ll just take a look down the road to make sure nothing’s happening.”

“And if it is?”

“Ummm… we’ll… think of something.”

“Oh great,” Wally said, his pleasant buzz from only a few minutes ago washed away like rain down a gutter.

Timmy followed after the cart at a light jog with a reluctant Wally on his heels. They rounded the corner and saw no sign of their quarry. Timmy kept going before Wally could catch up and start moaning. He had a gnawing feeling in his gut, and it wasn’t just that dodgy stew they’d had. After stumbling down three more roads Timmy was badly winded and lost in the suburban labyrinth of the Goblin quarter.

“Enough!” Wally wheezed as he caught up with Timmy. “I’m gonna see me lunch again if we carry on like this!”

Despite himself, Timmy was grateful for the break. He bent over double, his hands on his knees, and sucked air. He wiped the sweat from his pink brow and looked around.

“They could be anywhere by now!” Wally said, spitting a thick wad of phlegm on to the cobbles. “We’ll never catch ‘em on foot.”

Timmy nodded and straightened up.

“I guess you’re… what’s that?” Timmy was looking over Wally’s head at a coil of black smoke being whipped away by the wind.

Wally turned around and followed his gaze.

“Looks like… smoke?” he said.

“Smoke?” Timmy thought for a moment. “Something’s on fire!”

“Wait, not necessarily,” Wally said, holding his hands up placatingly. “There could be smoke… without fire.”

“Really?”

“Might just be a bonfire. You know these Goblins with their strange ways an’ all that.”

Wally looked again and the coil had turned into a plume of thick, greasy, black smoke.

“That’s no bonfire! Come on!”

Timmy took off as fast his chafing thighs would let him. His breath rattled in his ears, his face felt so hot he could hear the rain sizzling as it splashed on his cheeks, but he forced himself to keep running towards the smoke. Now he could smell it. The chimney of smoke rose high above the neat little houses, making their route easy to navigate. After a few minutes they came out onto a long road with a mixture of houses and shop fronts. At the end of the road, they found the source of the blaze. A shop standing alone on the corner was belching flames. Its windows had been smashed and great gouts of flames licked out from it. Goblins were pouring out of their homes in terrified shock.

“Bloody hell,” Wally cursed as they got close enough to feel the heat of the roaring inferno.

The shop looked like it had been some sort of tailor, its highly flammable inventory proving delicious to the ravenous fire. Goblins stood around chattering in Kittei and gesticulating wildly. Timmy was utterly lost. He didn’t know what to do. He came to a stop as another great tongue of flame was whipped up by the wind. The crowd noticed the two policemen and they began pointing and barking in their own tongue.

“What… I don’t understand… ummm… what do we do?” Timmy looked at Wally who had gone pale.

“There’s people in there!” An older Goblin gentleman shouted at them, pointing to the upstairs window.

Timmy looked up and saw desperate hands clawing at boarded up windows as smoke filled the room.

“What? Why? Who are they?” Timmy felt panic clawing its way up from the pit of his stomach, strangling the sense out of his brain.

“Its brother Ga’zoo! His family lives above the shop! He has little ones!” The Goblin howled.

The crowd took up his dread and soon panic had flared across the crowd as quickly as the fire had spread through the shop. They screamed up at the Goblins. Some had started to throw rocks at the windows trying to smash them and others were trying to find a route into the burning building.

Timmy stood frozen. His legs were numb. He watched as the frantic scrambling at the windows slowed. The windows were nailed shut. They must have barricaded themselves in, like most of the shops in the Goblin quarter had. They had trapped themselves in the inferno. He could see smoke filling the room.

“Wally! Wally!” Timmy screamed, although his voice sounded distant and weak. “Wally! We have to do something!”

Timmy looked around for his partner. Wally’s bright, horrified, eyes were glued to the upstairs window, his face ash white. Timmy stumbled towards the door of the shop and was beaten back by the sheer heat of the blaze. One of the Goblins who had tried to break his way in was being dragged away, half of the scales on his arms melted by the heat of the fire. Timmy pulled his cloak up over his face and tried to make a mad dash into the furnace only to be grabbed by Wally.

“Wally, what are you doing! We have to help them! We have to save them! Let go of me!” Timmy was wild in his desperation. He shoved and tore at Wally trying to get him off of him.

“You can’t,” Wally said, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper. “They’re… they’re gone.”

Timmy stumbled backwards and looked up at the window to see the flames licking the rooftop as the room filled with fire. He couldn’t see the grasping hands of the trapped Goblins anymore. He heard the Goblins around him wailing and screaming in horror, beating at their chests in grief. He felt Wally’s hands go slack on his shirt. He wasn’t sure when his legs had given out, but he found himself sitting down on the wet cobbles, still looking up at the window. He was still looking when the roof collapsed. Goblins wept all around him, holding each other, and crying out in their mother tongue. Timmy felt tears trickling down his cheeks. At some point Wally had sat down next to him, hunched over, his knees pulled to his chest and his face buried between them. Timmy could hear his wracking sobs but he could do nothing to comfort his friend.

Who would do this? Why would they…

Timmy thought he was going to be sick. He could feel the acrid tang of bile rise in the back of his throat. He clenched his teeth and swallowed it back.

“Wally, have you got your comm scroll?” Timmy’s voice was strangely calm. Like it wasn’t him talking but someone else. Someone far away from the stench of smoke and burning flesh. Someone who couldn’t hear the heartbroken wailing of the Goblins.

Wally lifted his head, scrubbed the tears from his face on the back of his sleeve, and nodded.

“I think we should contact the precinct.”

*

“So what now?” Nairo asked Ridley as they climbed out of a bottom floor window that led to one of the various dark alleyways behind the precinct. Getting out of the precinct without being seen had been tricky until an emergency scroll had come in. Something about a fire in the Goblin Quarter. After hiding out in an empty office for fifteen minutes, the precinct cleared out and they were able to sneak down and out the back.

“I gotta hunt down this midget with the Diamond,” Ridley said, pulling up his coat collars and fishing for a smoke in his voluminous pockets.

“It sounds like they’re losing control,” Nairo said, chewing her lip.

“The Diamond’s becoming more unstable,” Ridley said. “Tolliver’s bridge could just be the start.”

“And if the Diamond cracks, the whole city could be levelled.”

“Who is this guy?” Ridley growled in frustration. “What does he want? Why is he running around the underbelly of the city with a literal ancient weapon of war?”

“Why haven’t they sold it yet? Or taken it out of the city, especially now that it’s becoming more unstable? They risk blowing themselves up and the city!” Nairo added. “None of this makes any sense.”

“Nothing ‘bout this case has ever made much sense,” Ridley said. “And it doesn’t sound like our thief is too stable himself. Time’s running out.”

“Any idea where you're gonna start?” Nairo asked, falling in step next to him as they slowly walked down the alley.

“Nope. I guess around Tolliver’s bridge, see if anyone spotted a little nutter in a dark cloak doing a runner. Gotta be honest, Sarge, asking questions was a lot easier with you around.”

“I guess the badge helps.”

“It does… but people like you. They open up when you’re around.”

Nairo looked sideways at Ridley. Was that a compliment? Or at the very least, not a comment dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah I guess, but you always knew who to ask. Guess we made a good team.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

They came to the end of the alleyway and stood for an awkward moment.

“Ridley, I’m sorry…”

“No, don’t worry…”

“But I should…”

“You can’t, I get it…”

“Still…”

“I know.”

They stood examining their shoes for another moment.

“Thanks for the help. I appreciate it.” Ridley said, flicking his smoke into an overflowing gutter where it sizzled. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Yes. Goodbye.”

Ridley nodded at her and then turned to walk away. A large black horse and carriage pulled up in front of him. The driver tugged on the reins so viciously the horse reared and whinnied in protest as its hooves slipped on the wet cobbles. The door to the carriage banged open and a handsome, dapperly dressed, young Goblin grinned out at them. Three more Goblins sat in the back of the cab looking decidedly less friendly.

“Hello Ridley.”

Ridley looked up and froze.

“Rufi?”

“Get in. My uncle needs a word.”

“Oh…”

“You too Sarge.” Rufi looked at her and flashed her a cavalier grin. “You two have been up to all sorts. Now it’s time to pay the piper.” The smile dropped from his face. “We’re going for a ride down south.”