by Tim Waggoner
Varvara looked at Klamm for a moment, shark teeth still bared, but then she sighed and nodded. She closed her mouth, and when she opened it again, her teeth had returned to normal.
"I suppose you're right." She looked at Varney. "If you're not a spy, I apologize for this."
She waved her riding crop, and Varney yelped as his cybernetic eye exploded in a shower of sparks. The flesh around the eye blackened as it burned, but Varney was Bloodborn, and the injury began repairing itself almost immediately. Too bad his camera eye couldn't be fixed as easily. He looked as if he wanted to protest, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. He was lucky that Varvara hadn't decided to completely incinerate him on the spot, and he doubtless knew it.
Devona stood next to Shamika, a comforting arm around the girl's shoulders. Shamika didn't seem all that intimidated by Varvara, even though the Demon Queen had just used her magic to burn out Varney's camera eye and could use her powers to do worse to us at any moment. Instead, Shamika's attention was focused on General Klamm. The girl stared at him, her gaze intense, but I couldn't tell if she was afraid of him or fascinated with him. Or both.
There was a lot about Shamika I hadn't been able to get a handle on, and it was really starting to bug me.
Klamm was aware of the girl's interest in him, and he returned her look with a knowing smirk that made her avert her gaze.
Varvara turned to me then. "You know I always enjoy catching up with you, Matt, but as you might imagine, I'm a wee bit busy at the moment, what with planning a retaliatory strike on Talaith and all. So why don't you tell me why you came to see me, and then we can both get on with the rest of our day."
I tried to decide how to begin. I couldn't tell her that Dis had asked me to investigate the disappearances of the magic-users in the hope that I might learn something that would stop this war. Dis needed to maintain the appearance of neutrality in the dispute between Varvara and Talaith, and I was determined to keep his involvement in the case quiet, more for my sake than his. The last thing I wanted to do was to make a god mad at me.
"Papa Chatha is missing," I said. I quickly filled her in on what little we knew. "That's why Shamika is with us," I finished. "She's helping us search for her uncle."
"Her uncle?" Klamm said. "Do you have any proof that she's related to Papa Chatha? Had any of you met her before today or even so much as heard Papa mention her?"
"Are you implying that Shamika's a spy?" Devona said, flashing Klamm a little fang to show what she thought of him.
"She is Arcane," Klamm said. "And by appealing to your sympathies, she's managed not only to worm her way into Demon's Roost, but into Varvara's war room."
I started to protest, but then I thought about what Klamm said. He had a point – one that I didn't want to examine too closely lest I become as paranoid as him.
"What do you want from me, Matt?" Varvara asked. "And make it fast: I'm busy planning a war, you know."
With Varvara, I've found that the direct approach works best, and the bold-as-hell approach works even better.
"I want you to release Papa – and the other magic-users while you're at it. Then you and Talaith can make nice, and the rest of us can get on with our lives, such as they are."
Varvara's green eyes blazed with baleful light, and her expression became one of cold fury. I could feel power building around her, and I knew I was a hair's breadth away from being turned into zombie fricassee.
I gave her a lopsided grin. "Come on – you knew I was going to ask."
Klamm fixed me with a disdainful glare. "My queen! You can't possibly tolerate such insolence!"
"Insolence is my middle name," I told Klamm. "Well, actually it's Stephen, but you get the idea."
The queen of the Demonkin looked at me for a moment, then she smiled and the power that had been building around her disappeared.
"Of course you were going to ask, Matt," she said, almost fondly. "It's what you do, isn't it? Ask the questions others are afraid to, go places they won't or can't, all in pursuit of an ideal called Truth that in the end may not even exist."
"I usually find answers," I said, trying not to sound defensive.
"Perhaps," Varvara said, "but they aren't always the answers you hope to find, are they?"
I didn't reply.
Varvara regarded me for a moment more before turning and walking back to the map table. Klamm joined her, but since no one had extended an invitation to me, I stayed where I was, standing with Devona, Shamika, and Varney. I figured I'd already pushed my luck with Varvara enough for the time being.
"I had nothing to do with the disappearances of the Arcane," Varvara said. "Nor did any of my subjects." She glanced sideways at Klamm. "At least, not as far as we know. Investigations are ongoing."
Klamm smiled coldly at that, and I could imagine the excruciatingly agonizing nature of those "investigations."
Varvara continued. "For whatever reason, Talaith has chosen to blame me for the disappearances, and I've been unable to convince her otherwise."
"Not that you tried very hard," I guessed. "After all, a war with Talaith would be too much fun to pass up."
Varvara's smile held more than a hint of slyness. "It has been a long time since we've had a decent war," she admitted. "The last full-scale conflict between the Dominions was the Blood Wars, and they happened over two centuries ago. We're long overdue for another."
"And it doesn't bother you that people will die while you and Talaith play soldiers?" I asked.
Varvara gave me a look. "What part of Demon Queen don't you understand?"
Klamm chose that moment to jump in again. "Have you considered the possibility that Talaith kidnapped the missing magic-users herself and then blamed Varvara for the crime in order to create an excuse to attack the Sprawl? In fact, the disappearances may have only been a ruse. The magic-users may have hidden themselves at Varvara's command."
"Papa Chatha would never do that," I said. "He may be Arcane, but he's his own man."
Klamm shrugged. "Perhaps. Then again, you may not know him as well as you think."
Despite myself, I couldn't help considering Klamm's words. Before that day, I hadn't known Papa had a niece. What else didn't I know about him?
I glanced at Shamika. She continued to stare at Klamm oddly, but she didn't say anything in defense of her uncle. I wondered if it was because she was too intimidated at being in Varvara's presence or if it was because she had no defense to make.
I told myself to stop heading down that path. Demons are notorious for getting inside your head – sometimes literally – and messing with your mind any number of ways.
"Do you have any proof to back up your suspicions?" I asked Klamm.
"Not yet," he admitted. "But as my queen told you–"
"Investigations are ongoing," I said.
Klamm smiled. "Indeed."
"Talaith claims to have proof of Demonkin involvement in the disappearances," I said. "Have you seen it?"
Varvara shook her head. "But even if she did show it to me, I wouldn't trust it. Talaith isn't above manufacturing evidence when it suits her purpose." "Neither are you," I countered.
Klamm shot me a dark look, but Varvara let out a loud earthy laugh.
"True enough! But you know how scheming and vindictive Talaith can be. She makes the rest of us Darklords seem reasonable and even-tempered."
"I don't know if I'd go that far, but your point is a good one."
I figured I'd learned as much as I was going to from Varvara, but I wasn't ready to leave yet. I doubted the Demon Queen could be swayed from retaliating against Talaith, but I figured I should at least make the effort. I wasn't going to attempt to appeal to her better nature, since I was fairly certain she didn't have one. Instead, I decided to appeal to her mercenary side. With the best shops, clubs, restaurants, and attractions in Nekropolis, the Sprawl is the city's center of business – both legitimate and otherwise – and a lot of darkgems exchanged hands here. War wouldn't exactly be con
ducive to the orderly flow of commerce.
"Do you really think attacking Glamere is a good idea? I'm sure it would be emotionally satisfying, but it won't be good for business. With both bridges destroyed, the Sprawl is already cut off from the other Dominions, and that's going to put a dent in profits. And all-out war would be even worse. If the Sprawl becomes a battle zone…"
Klamm answered for Varvara. "Engineering crews have already been dispatched to rebuild the bridges, along with soldiers to guard them once they're finished." He smiled smugly. "If Talaith sends the Weyward Sisters to destroy the bridges again, the witches will find us waiting and ready for them."
"Talaith won't bother attacking the bridges again," Varvara said. "She'll go for a bigger, bolder strike the next time. It's what I would do." She thought for a moment. "It's true that a war might adversely affect business in the Sprawl, and I've already met with several nervous representatives of the Merchants' Guild about that very matter. And I'm not unsympathetic to their concerns. I've worked hard to make the Sprawl the most interesting and exciting Dominion in the city, and I have no intention of throwing that away lightly. But there's a lot to be said for a good war, you know. Like a forest fire, it can be a cleansing force, burning away old, tired wood and making room for invigorating new growth." She flashed a smile. "Besides, it's fun!"
"So your main reason for going to war – aside from getting back at Talaith – is that it will give you a chance to remodel?" I shook my head in disgust. "You know, sometimes you Darklords are more like kids with Attention Deficit Disorder than immortal monsters."
In response, Varvara's smile only grew wider.
"The queen's forest fire analogy is particularly apt at the moment," Klamm said. He bent over the map table, typed a command on the keyboard, and then moved his index finger over the mouse pad. The hologram of Nekropolis blurred and reformed into a detailed image of Glamere, the Dominion Talaith ruled. I haven't spent much time there, considering how much Talaith despises me, but I recognized the more prominent features: the Valley of Silence, the Interstitial Maze, Reversion River, and the Greensward. In the middle of the latter stood Woodhome, Talaith's stronghold, a gigantic tree which contained dozens of interior chambers that had formed organically as it grew.
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 holo-display. "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 redhided 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
burnedout 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."