by Tim Waggoner
I had a bad feeling about this. "You're not going to attack Woodhome, are you?" If Varvara made a direct strike on Talaith's stronghold, the Witch Queen would be so furious that not even Father Dis would be able to stop the war then. Worse, it might drag the other three Darklords into the conflict. Galm, Amon, and Edrigu would sit back and watch Varvara and Talaith fight it out as long as their dispute didn't spill over into the other Dominions. But it would be a different story if either of the women attacked the other's stronghold. While the Darklords had fought against one another in ways large and small over the centuries, by unspoken agreement they had never attacked another Lord's stronghold. If Varvara broke that custom now, the other Darklords might decide she'd gone too far and join forces against her. If that happened, the destruction Devona and I had witnessed in the alternate Nekropolis would pale in comparison to the devastation a five-way battle between Darklords would wreak on the city.
"It's tempting, I'll admit," Varvara said, "but no, we're not going to attack Woodhome." She smiled darkly. "Just the next best thing." She nodded to Klamm, and he pressed a button on the map table's console. The Demon Queen then waved her hand and the walls of her penthouse became transparent. I'd always assumed Varvara's quarters didn't have windows because she didn't want to be vulnerable to a possible attack by another Darklord – and because she didn't want anyone spying on the more lascivious activities she indulged in with playmates of either sex – but now I understood that the walls were windows… when she wanted them to be, anyway.
Vibrations juddered through the floor, and the entire building shook around us, as if in the grip of an earthquake. The vibrations ceased as a dozen fiery streaks shot up from the ground and arced up into the night-black sky above the Sprawl. The streaks flew northward and were rapidly lost to view.
Varney moaned. "My producer is going to kill me for not being able to film this!"
"Look at the map," Devona said in a tone that held equal parts of awe and fear.
We all did as she said and saw a dozen miniature recreations of the flame trails heading toward Glamere from the south.
"Are those missiles?" I asked.
"Yes," Klamm answered without taking his eyes off the holodisplay. "Fired from silos surrounding Demon's Roost. Each contains a payload of a dozen salamanders." The light from the holographic recreation of the missiles bathed his face in bright orange, and it made his glossy black eyes gleam. "My own special design."
None of us could take our gazes away from the holographic scene playing out before us. We all watched silently as the missiles arced downward and impacted on the forest floor of the Greensward in a circle around Woodhome. I had no doubt that the salamanders Klamm referred to weren't the tiny amphibious creatures of Earth but rather mythological salamanders, magical fire lizards capable of igniting vast conflagrations. The recreation wasn't detailed enough for us to see exactly what happened once the missiles hit, but I imagined panels in the sides of the missiles popping open and hordes of small red-hided salamanders pouring forth. An instant later, a wall of flame sprang up around Woodhome and immediately began moving away from Talaith's stronghold, devouring the Greensward as it went. I imagined the salamanders scuttling forward in a circle, obeying a preprogrammed geis to keep their flames away from Woodhome. It seemed Varvara had been telling the truth when she said she wouldn't attack Talaith's stronghold.
Talaith didn't waste any time in striking back. Three small dots of light emerged from the holographic recreation of Woodhome, and flew up and over the rapidly expanding circle of fire.
"The Weyward Sisters," Varvara said. "Talaith's dispatched them to put out the fire." The Demon Queen spoke with barely contained excitement, sounding like an overeager sports fan watching a particularly tense moment in the game.
Thread-thin beams of light emerged from the dots representing the Weyward Sisters and lanced downward into the circle of flame. The salamanders' fire flickered and slowed down, but it continued spreading.
Klamm smiled. "Those aren't ordinary salamanders. They've been both mystically and genetically augmented to withstand any attack. The Sisters might be able to extinguish the flames the salamanders have already created, but they won't be able to stop them from making more."
"Another of your 'special designs'?" I asked.
Klamm looked up from the holo-display long enough to give me a smug smile before returning his attention to the action.
We continued to watch as the Weyward Sisters unleashed one mystic bolt after another in an attempt to stop the salamanders' fiery march across the Greensward, but while they were able to douse the flames the creatures created, they couldn't stop the salamanders themselves. Finally the Sisters broke off their attack and flew up to a point above Woodhome where they gathered together.
"What are they doing?" Varvara asked.
Shamika had been silent since we'd entered Varvara's penthouse, but she spoke now. "Since they can't destroy the salamanders, they're going to prevent them from spreading their fires throughout all of Glamere. And there's only one way to do that."
Devona's eyes widened in sudden comprehension. "Destroy the rest of the Greensward. That way, they won't have anything to burn."
Shamika nodded, and we watched as the three dots representing the Weyward Sisters began to blaze with light so intense that it was hard to look at them directly. The light then pulsed outward in a wave that rolled over the rest of the Greensward, and an instant later, the forest was gone. I wasn't sure what sort of spell the Weyward Sisters had used, but it was damned powerful, disintegrating the surviving trees instantly. The salamanders' flames continued to burn for a few seconds longer after that, but denied fuel, their flames died out. The Weyward Sisters then parted, each of them flying down into the burned-out plain where the Greensward had been and flying low over the ground.
"What are they doing?" Varney asked. "Capturing the salamanders?"
Varvara nodded. "Since they no longer have to worry about saving the Greensward, their magic can protect them from the salamanders' flames. They can just pick them up off the ground now. But it doesn't matter. My little pets have done their work."
I thought she was going to say something more, but before she could speak again, the image of a woman's head appeared above the holographic recreation of Woodhome. It was Talaith.
She appeared to be in her late sixties, with short gray hair, baggy eyes, and sagging skin. Her expression was normally fixed in a permanent tight-lipped scowl, but now her features were twisted with rage.
"How dare you!" she said in a low voice.
Varvara smiled sweetly at Talaith. "You made the first move, love."
"You kidnapped my people!"
"I've told you, I had nothing to do with that. And even if I had, do you really think the abduction of a few witches and warlocks rates the destruction of both bridges to my Dominion? It's hardly what I would call a reasonable response, dear."
"I'll show you a reasonable response, you demonic slut! I'll–" Talaith broke off, frowning. The image of her head slowly rotated until she was looking at me.
"Richter!" She said my name like it was a particularly nasty venereal disease. "I should've known you would be involved in this!"
"Actually, one of his friends is among the missing magic-users," Varvara said. "Matt came here to find out if I knew anything about his disappearance. Technically, I suppose that means he's on your side."
"Don't insult me," I muttered.
Talaith's eyes burned with such hatred that I was glad I was only looking at a mystic projection of her and not the real thing. If she had been here, she'd have likely hit me with a spell so powerful it would've reduced me to an undead smear on the floor.
"You've been a thorn in my side for far too long, Richter," she said. "First I'm going to deal with Varvara, and when I'm finished with her, I'm coming for you."
"Don't write checks your ass can't cash, dear," Varvara said.
Talaith whirled back to face her, snarled, and
then the image of her head faded as she broke contact.
Varvara grinned. "That went well, didn't it?" She grinned at Klamm. "Excellent work, General."
Klamm bowed his head. "It's my pleasure to serve you, my queen. I'll have my people begin assessing the damage and running simulations to determine what Talaith's next move might be." He glanced sideways at us. "About our visitors… They've seen far too much, my queen. While I understand that you find the zombie amusing, he and his companions should be placed in holding cells where we can keep an eye on them until the current situation with the Arcane is resolved. It would be the…" he paused, searching for the right word. "prudent thing to do."
Varvara smiled at him. "In case you hadn't noticed, General, I'm not one for making the prudent choice. Where's the fun in that? Matt is far more interesting when he's allowed to roam free, causing his own unique brand of chaos."
I frowned. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult."
Varvara grinned. "Works either way."
I couldn't help but smile back. "Guess so." But then I grew serious. "You know Talaith will take the destruction of the Greensward as seriously as if you had attacked Woodhome. Unlike you, Talaith doesn't embrace technology, and she forces her people to live in harmony with nature – whether they like it or not. To her, destroying a forest is the same as destroying a city full of people. Actually, she probably considers it to be worse. And the Greensward isn't just a simple collection of trees, it's her personal forest, the one surrounding her home. Whatever she does next, it'll make the destruction of the bridges pale in comparison."
Varvara's grin took on a dark edge. "I'm counting on it."
ELEVEN
We left Demon's Roost without Scorch. We looked for her among the ranks of demons drilling in the Atrium, but there were too many, and we didn't spot her. Not that she could've come with us even if we had found her. Varvara had ordered her to join the ranks of her demonic army, and Scorch had had no choice but to obey if she didn't wish to incur the Demon Queen's wrath.
"I hope she'll be all right," Devona said when we were out on the street. Demons patrolled the area, but none of them challenged us. Varvara had likely sent word ahead that we were to be allowed to leave, and while her soldiers might not like it, none of them would dare disobey their queen.
"She's more than tough enough to take care of herself," I said. Still, if the war between Talaith and Varvara intensified to the point where ground troops were called in, Scorch might find herself in more trouble than she could handle. I didn't say this to Devona, though. I didn't need to. I was sure she was thinking along the same lines.
"That was a useless trip," Varney said, fingering his ruined cyber-eye. "You didn't learn anything, and I lost my camera. I can't believe I was present when Varvara struck back against Talaith, and I didn't get a single moment of footage!"
"It wasn't totally wasted," Devona said. "We learned that Varvara had nothing to do with the disappearance of the magic-users."
"We did?" Shamika said.
Devona nodded. "Of all the Darklords, Varvara is the most… I suppose honest isn't exactly the right word. Upfront, I guess is what I'm trying to say. She's a lot like a wild animal. She is what she is and does what she does and makes no effort to pretend to be something she's not. If she had kidnapped the magic-users, she wouldn't have denied it. In fact, she'd have gloated about it."
"And she loves an audience," I added. "As far as she's concerned, there'd be no point in striking against a fellow Darklord if there was no one around to appreciate the brilliance of her plan."
"But you don't have proof Varvara didn't order the abductions," Varney said.
"True," I admitted, "but Devona and I know her well enough that I'm willing to bet she didn't. But you're right: since we don't have any evidence that clears her, we can't completely rule her out as a suspect."
Shamika chimed in then. "That other demon – Klamm – said that maybe Talaith is only pretending magic-users were kidnapped as an excuse to attack Varvara. Do you think he might be right?"
I shrugged. "Talaith is devious as hell, and she has a history of attempting to attack the other Darklords." That was how I'd originally come to Nekropolis from Earth. Talaith had sent one of her servants to Earth to kidnap humans with strong psychic potential in order to harvest their brains and use them to create a device called the Overmind, which she planned to use against Lord Edrigu. My partner and I had tracked the kidnapper to a portal that led to Nekropolis, and we went through. Eventually we reached Glamere and confronted the kidnapper and Talaith in Woodhome. We destroyed the Overmind, and my partner lost his life in the process, but somehow the release of magical and psychic energies resulted in my being resurrected as a self-willed zombie. I still miss Dale. He was a good man and a good friend – rare qualities, no matter what dimension you're from.
"If Talaith is responsible, maybe Bogdan will uncover some evidence of it from his contacts," Devona said.
"Maybe," I allowed, "but Talaith plays things pretty close to the vest. There's a good chance no one but she would know the truth. But who knows? Maybe Bogdan will get lucky."
I didn't particularly like Bogdan, but he was smart. If anyone in the Sprawl's Arcane community had information relating to the magic-users' kidnapping, I was confident he'd find out – not that I'd ever admit it to him.
"We did learn one other item of interest," Devona said, reaching out to take my hand. She gave it a squeeze, and I could feel the seam between my hand and wrist weaken, then give way. "Oops!" Devona said. "Sorry about that. Way to spoil a tender moment, huh?"
My detached hand continued to grip hers, and we stopped walking long enough for her to place my hand against the stump of my wrist. I concentrated, and my hand reattached to my body. Devona let go, and I flexed my fingers to test out the connection. I wasn't sure, but it felt a bit weaker than before. If we didn't find Papa Chatha before too much longer, I'd eventually be unable to hold myself together and I'd end up a pile of disconnected parts, which would make it a wee bit harder for me to stop the war building between Varvara and Talaith.
I clasped Devona's hand once more. "Now where were we?"
"We're going to have twins," she said, grinning.
"Hard to believe, isn't it? Matt Junior and Devona Junior."
"Maybe we should try to come up with some better names."
"Maybe we should think about getting married," I said. The words popped out of my mouth before I was aware of it, but once I said them, they felt right. But then something occurred to me and I frowned. "Uh, Darkfolk do get married, right?"
Devona pulled me down toward her, then stood on her tiptoes and kissed me. When she pulled away, she beamed at me and said, "We can make plans later. Right now we should concentrate on finding Papa Chatha, OK?"
"All right."
Varney moaned. "Great! You propose to Devona, and I couldn't film it! My producer is going to put a stake in my heart for sure over this!"
Shamika smiled at us. "Can I come to your wedding?"
"Of course, honey," Devona said. "In fact, you can help us plan it if you–"
We were nearing one of the barriers around Demon's Roost, this one made of a row of vehicles parked end to end across the street, with armed demons standing on the roofs. The air rippled around us, as if distorted by waves of heat rising from the asphalt, and at first I feared that Talaith was already retaliating for the salamanders' fiery destruction of the Greensward. The distortion effect increased, accompanied by a strange disorientation, as if the entire world was slowly tilting to the left. Ghostly images began to appear around us – people thronging the sidewalks, vehicles clogging the street, tall modern office buildings rising into the sky… The people were all human, the vehicles normal cars, trucks, vans and the like, and the buildings lacked any hint of the bizarre that typified the Sprawl's architectural style.
"What's happening?" Devona shouted. Her voice had a strange hollow quality, as if she was shouting from the o
ther side of a thick wall.
"I don't know!" I shouted back. The ghost images reminded me of Bonetown, the Dominion of Edrigu, Lord of the Dead. But unlike Bonetown, these phantasms all appeared to be from the same modern time, and none of them possessed any sign of having died in violent ways – their bodies were unmarked, and aside from their transparent quality, they appeared whole and healthy. It was as if we were gazing upon a faint image of an Earth city, an American one, like New York or Chicago.
Or Cleveland, I thought. My old hometown. Varvara has a mirror in her penthouse – though it hadn't been visible during our latest visit – and it opens onto a park in Cleveland. It was through this mirror that Dale and I had first traveled to Nekropolis. The more I looked at the people and buildings around us, the more convinced I became that I was looking at Cleveland. And what was more, some of the people had begun staring in our direction and pointing, as if they could see us too. Others were looking around them, and I wondered if they were seeing ghostly images of the Sprawl superimposed upon their city.