by Tim Waggoner
Jayce watched the chaos for several moments, coldly amused, and then he spread his arms outward and began slowly spinning in a circle. Darkness gusted forth from inside him, pouring into the air and racing toward the fleeing Shadowers. More darkness emerged, vast clouds of it, far more than a single human body should have been capable of containing. But then Jayce wasn’t human and hadn’t been for some time. Maybe not ever. He just hadn’t known it until now. Valerie had, though. It was why she’d given up her life as a Shadower, left the Cannery, and never returned. Why she’d been so overprotective of her only child, why she’d worked so hard to convince him the world was a dangerous place. She didn’t want to risk anything waking the monster inside him.
And I failed, Valerie said. Lords of Blight, how I failed.
As he rotated, Jayce saw Ivory running, not toward the elevator, though. In a different direction. It stood to reason that there would be other ways in and out of Crimson Splendor’s lower levels besides the elevator, even if those ways were only known to Ivory herself. Jayce wasn’t worried that she’d get away. He knew he could find her any time he wished.
Nicola remained where she’d been when the Harvest Man appeared, only now she crouched low to the ground, as if she were trying to make herself as small as possible so she might go unnoticed by him. She watched Jayce, but she didn’t look afraid of him now. If anything, she looked happy, almost joyful. Her reaction struck Jayce as odd, but he was too caught up in what was happening at the moment to worry about it.
His darkness rolled over the bleachers in billowing waves, and wherever it went, another voice was silenced, then another, and another. Until, more swiftly than would’ve seemed possible to him only a short while before, the Pit was silent. He paused for a moment, relishing the stillness, before breathing in once more. The darkness rushed back toward him, moving even faster as it returned home. As it flowed back into him, it brought with it the minds and spirits of everyone it had touched. No longer was Valerie alone inside him. Joining her were the dozen Therons he’d gathered – no, harvested – along with hundreds of Shadowers, and he could feel all of them, each and every one, could hear their weeping and moaning, their voices a tumult inside him.
I contain multitudes, he thought, and he knew he could hold more, infinitely so. This was only the beginning.
“Hush,” he said softly, and the legion inside him fell silent at his command.
He closed his eyes and searched inside for Ivory, but he was not surprised that she wasn’t there. She’d made her escape – for the time being.
Clouds of black dust rose into the air as the ashen remains of the Shadowers collapsed, and the particles began drifting down into the Pit like black snow. Jayce thought he’d never seen anything more beautiful.
Nicola straightened. Blood splatter marred the white of her coveralls, but she didn’t appear to be wounded. She walked up to him, smiling, then bowed her head and knelt before him.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said.
She looked up at him, beaming. “I know.”
He held out his hand, and she allowed him to help her rise.
“Did Ivory—” she began.
“She remains free, but I know where to find her.” He paused, then added, “I know many things now.”
He glanced at the bodies of the three Emorys lying on the stone floor of the Pit.
“It’s time to finish this,” he said, his voice like the mournful wind of an October twilight.
* * *
He led Nicola to an opening in the wall behind one of the bleachers. He presumed it was a secret door, one that Ivory had opened and, in her haste, failed to close. A set of stairs led down, and while they were unlit, Jayce didn’t hesitate to take them. He didn’t need light to find his way anymore. He didn’t want to drip blood on the steps and risk Nicola slipping and getting hurt, so he concentrated and the flow from his stomach wound stopped. He didn’t bother to close the wound itself. There was no need.
Nicola followed at a respectful distance.
The air grew warmer and more humid the farther they descended, and the atmosphere quickly became stifling. It felt like he was breathing through a throat full of wet cotton, and runnels of sweat flowed down his body. He smiled. It seemed he had some human left in him after all. A rank miasma of body odor filled the stairwell, and Jayce imagined hundreds of bodies jammed together, sweating in the heat. Once, the smell would have turned his stomach and made his gorge rise, but now it did nothing to him. It was merely a detail to be noted, nothing more. There was a different scent in the mix, a combination of stagnant water and rotting fish. Jayce didn’t need his new abilities to tell him what the smell belonged to. It was easy enough to guess: the Primogenitor.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into a cavern, what Ivory had referred to as the Creche. There was no source of light, but Jayce could make out the details of the place as clearly as if they were on the surface and the sun was shining bright. The cavern appeared to be a natural structure, with no reshaping by human – or inhuman – hands. The walls, ceiling, and floor were unhewn rock, and stalactites and stalagmites projected from its surfaces. A huge fungus-like mass grew on the ceiling, and it had used the stalactites to anchor itself, growing around them to the point where it appeared they had pierced it like spears. The ceiling wasn’t very high, maybe twenty feet, Jayce guessed, but the greenish fungus was so thick that it cut that height in half. The mass was covered in a thick viscous layer that resembled clear gelatin, and embedded in this substance, hanging facedown and arms stretched wide as if they’d been frozen in the act of flying, were the naked bodies of men, women, and children, eyes closed and faces expressionless. They ranged in age from infants to seniors, and different races and body types were represented. It made sense. Ivory would want a wide selection to offer her customers. Did she bring some of them down here – only the most wealthy and esteemed among them, naturally – and allow them to choose from her stock, like a high-class restauranteur showing off the quality of her wine cellar? Probably.
The cavern wasn’t high, but it was wide, and the fungus – the Primogenitor – covered the entire ceiling. Dozens of bodies were held in its substance, so many that Jayce had difficulty estimating their number. One hundred? Two hundred? More? And until recently, Emory had been among their number. If only he’d come into his power sooner, he might have been able to save her. It was too late for that, but it wasn’t too late to take vengeance in her name.
Ivory stood in the center of the chamber, surrounded by a number of robed figures holding long metal rods like they were staves. The figures made no apparent move, but the top ends of their staves began to glow with baleful yellow light. Nicola, now able to see their surroundings, looked up at the Primogenitor and gasped. Jayce kept his attention focused on Ivory. She struggled to maintain control of her emotions, but even from a distance, Jayce could see the fear in her eyes. But she was a creature that had endured for two centuries or more, and she hadn’t survived that long by giving up easily.
She stretched her hand toward them and pointed. She gave no verbal command, but the robed figures lowered their staves as if they were weapons and charged. Some of their hoods fell back as they ran, and Jayce could see that the Primogenitor’s attendants were more Therons. He waited until they were within ten feet, breathed out, breathed in, and they were gone, their ashen forms falling apart an instant later. With no hands to hold them, the staves clattered to the floor, glowing tips still providing light.
Ivory stood alone now.
Jayce walked toward the old woman, not hurrying. He knew she had nowhere else to go. Nicola trailed after him, but he was barely aware of her presence. His attention was focused entirely on Ivory.
“Stay back,” the woman said. She raised her hands above her head, fingers twisted into strange configurations. “I am far from defenseless.”
“If you possess m
agic, use it,” Jayce said as he kept walking. “I’ll harvest it the same way I harvested your servants.”
Ivory began to tremble and a quaver entered her voice.
“You know that I come down here from time to time to make duplicates of myself, but you have no way of knowing how many duplicates of me there are, or even if I’m the real Ivory. I might not even know which is the real me by this point.”
Jayce continued toward her. He closed most of the distance until only two feet separated them. He stopped, so close now he could reach out and touch her. But instead of drawing back, Ivory lowered her arms, and a sly smile spread across her face.
“I brought the Primogenitor here, although it was much smaller then, of course. It obeys me, and if I tell it to, it will crush all of those it holds within its substance. Including your daughter.”
Jayce had a sudden realization. “You lied in the Pit. None of the Emorys were real.”
Ivory laughed. “Of course I lied! You think I would waste an original when I can have the Primogenitor make as many duplicates of her as I wish? The Emorys who died in the Pit were all Underborn. The real Emory is still here” – she gestured toward the Primogenitor and the naked forms trapped in its substance – “somewhere.”
“And if I let you go, you’ll return her to me, is that it?”
From behind him, Nicola said, “Don’t trust her, Jayce.”
“Not exactly,” Ivory said, ignoring Nicola. “You let me leave and I won’t tell the Primogenitor to crush everyone. Once I’m gone, you’ll be free to search for her. When you find her, I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out a way to free her – especially given your new…talents.”
Jayce considered her words. “You could be lying now. The real Emory might be one of the three lying dead on the level above us, and you’re just hoping to save your own skin.”
“I admit, I have become rather fond of it over the centuries. Well, if your abilities don’t extend to determining whether someone is lying – and it appears they don’t – then I suppose you’ll just have to take a chance, won’t you? And you know better than to try to breathe your darkness on me. It didn’t affect my duplicate in the club when the Harvest Man tried it, so you know it damn well won’t affect me.”
Now that she was negotiating, Ivory was less fearful and more confident. She was once again in her natural element, and no matter what Jayce had become or what powers he’d gained, he was just another mark that she could manipulate.
“By bringing the Primogenitor to Oakmont and using it the way you have, you’ve thrown Shadow out of balance. The imbalance worsened as the years passed, and now it has reached the point where it can no longer be tolerated.”
“I’ve saved lives!” Ivory insisted. “I’ve made Oakmont a better place, a safer one!”
Jayce gave her a grim smile. “Shadow isn’t supposed to be safe.”
And then, before she could say or do anything more, his hand shot out, his fingers wrapped around her throat, and he gave her neck a single, sharp twist. A loud crack sounded in the humid air, and Ivory’s eyes went wide for an instant before they glazed over and her body went limp. Jayce released her, and she fell to the floor and lay still.
Nicola stepped forward and gazed upon Ivory’s corpse. She looked at the woman for a long moment before spitting on her face. Afterward, she turned to face Jayce.
“You were helping him all along, weren’t you?” Jayce didn’t have to speak the Harvest Man’s name. They both knew who he was referring to.
She gazed at Jayce with undisguised adoration.
“Yes. Remember when I told you that I was lost in Shadow for a time when I was younger, and I couldn’t remember what happened to me? Well, I lied about not remembering. He came to me. He told me things – awful, wonderful things – and he showed me foul glories beyond anything human minds can imagine. He said that there would come a day when he would need a successor. I hoped he meant me, but he said that was not my destiny, but another’s. My task was to help the successor, to guide him until he was ready to take on the dark mantle of the Harvest Man. And now that I have done as I was bidden, I have only one request of you, my new lord.”
Jayce smiled and reached out to gently touch her cheek.
“You have been a good and faithful servant, and you shall have your reward.”
He leaned forward to kiss her, and as she opened her mouth, he breathed his darkness into her. She sighed, then fell silent as he inhaled. When he stepped back, a face of ash stared at him and then, bit by bit, it collapsed into a pile of black dust. He felt Nicola inside him, heard her shout for joy. Jayce looked upon Nicola’s remains for several moments before turning his attention to the Primogenitor.
Ivory should never have brought the thing to Oakmont from whatever dark corner of the world she’d found it in, but she had. It could no longer be allowed to exist, that much was clear, but the question was what to do about all the people who’d been abducted and forced to serve as raw material to create the Underborn? If he released them, several hundred missing people – some of them missing for decades – would be free to return home. And once they did, attention would be drawn to the Cannery. National, and maybe even international, attention. He could see the headlines now: Hundreds of Prisoners Held Captive Beneath Ohio Town. Naked Abductees Used in Sinister Cult Rites. Crazed Cave Cult Captures Citizens! He doubted the people would remember much, if anything, about what had happened to them, but even with humans’ ability to ignore the strange things happening in their midst, there would simply be too many people returning to ignore. He knew instinctively that it was now his purpose to preserve the balance between Shadow and the rest of existence. But what was the best way to do that in this case?
In the end, he didn’t see he really had a choice. He took in a deep breath – deeper than any he’d ever taken before – held it for several seconds, and then exhaled.
* * *
When it was over, the Creche’s ceiling was clear, the stalactites free of any encumbrance, and the cavern’s floor was covered with black dust. The Primogenitor, along with the bodies it held, was gone. But Jayce wasn’t alone. Lying on a bare spot on the floor several feet from him, curled into a fetal position, naked body glistening with slime, was Emory. He allowed her to wake up in her own time, and as she slowly stirred, he removed Ivory’s tuxedo so she would have something to wear. He shook black dust from the clothing, and when he was finished, he folded Ivory’s shirt, jacket, and pants, and along with the shoes, placed them on the clean floor next to Emory. He then knelt at his daughter’s side. She was still half asleep, so he spent the next few minutes licking the slime from her with his new elongated black tongue. Not long after he’d finished cleaning her, she opened her eyes. She looked around for a moment, confused, and then she focused on him.
“Dad? Is that you?”
Jayce smiled.
“More or less.”
* * *
Jayce didn’t bother destroying those Underborn on Snuff or Carnality. They would be used up soon enough, and no replacements would ever be made. Sometimes, the best way to achieve balance was to let events run their natural – or in this case, unnatural – course.
The sky was a pale blue when Jayce and Emory stepped out of the building and onto the sidewalk. Dawn was near.
Emory, dressed in Ivory’s tuxedo, turned to him. The outfit was a bit snug on her, but it would do until she got home. He thought she looked rather cute in it, actually. Her hair was a matted, tangled mess, but he’d only been able to clean it so well with his tongue. She’d need a shower and lots of shampoo and conditioner.
She gazed at the bloodstains and black smudges on his once-white coveralls. When she’d first noticed them in the Creche, she’d feared he’d been injured and needed help. He’d assured her he was fine, and while she’d seemed skeptical, she hadn’t challenged him. Now she looked like she wanted
to say something about the blood again, but instead she said, “I’m not sure how I got down there. The last thing I remember was.…” She broke off, as if suddenly embarrassed.
“Being in The Hole Thing. I know. It’s okay. It’s your life to live, and all you need to know is that I love you, no matter what. Just try to be careful, huh? Shadow is a dangerous place.”
She nodded, eyes glistening. Did she sense this was goodbye? Maybe.
“Why don’t you go home, get cleaned up, and get some rest? I’ll see you later.”
She looked at him for several seconds, and he thought she was going to say something, but in the end she nodded and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek – being careful not to brush up against his filthy coveralls – and then she turned and walked away. As he watched her go, he knew that while he’d never have regular contact with her again, he would keep his promise. He would see her again. He would watch over her, and if she ever needed his help, he would be there. He might be a monster now, but he was still her father. And when it came to his daughter, balance be damned.
When Emory turned at the corner of the block and was lost to his sight, he started walking. He had one last stop to make before this was all over. It looked like it was going to be a nice day, and he decided to travel on foot instead of taking his Altima. He’d never need the vehicle again, anyway. He passed pedestrians on the sidewalk, and commuters drove by on their way to work. Most of them didn’t see him, and those that did, did a double-take, frowned, shook their heads, and promptly forgot about him.
Chapter Fourteen
The two-note electronic tone sounded as he pushed open the door to CrazyQwik. Bee-baw. He stepped inside and saw Virgil standing behind the counter. The store was empty, aside from the two of them, but this didn’t surprise Jayce. They had private business to conduct.
Virgil smiled as Jayce approached the counter.