I moved quickly forward to place myself between Merlin and Alex, doing my best to meet his terrible gaze with my best hard look.
“Your King Artur isn’t here, and none of us have seen him in ages.”
“Oh, I know that,” said Merlin. “He came to this Nightside against my wishes, and he has never returned. And I can’t have that. Can’t have people thinking they can go against my wishes. My magic tells me you have a gift for finding things, and people, John Taylor. I can see your gift, hiding within you. You only think you know what it is. Use that gift for me, find my missing Artur, and you and your friends can live.”
“If I’m to find him,” I said steadily, “I need to know about him. What is Artur doing here? What is he looking for?”
“A toy, a trinket,” said Merlin. “Something I’d already told him would do him no good.”
“Excalibur,” I said. “He wanted Excalibur, didn’t he?”
Merlin looked at me for a long moment, and I could feel my skin crawl, feel my legs shake. My heart was hammering in my chest. He could kill me in a moment, and we both knew it.
“I want my Artur,” said Merlin. “Find him for me. Or you ... are no use to me.”
“Don’t you threaten him,” Suzie said immediately, her shotgun trained on his face again.
Merlin didn’t even look at her. “Or perhaps I’ll turn your little girlfriend inside out and leave her that way, alive and suffering, forever.”
“Did you know I killed this world’s Merlin?” I said, my voice like a slap across his face. “Did you know I tore out his heart and watched him die by inches?”
“You’re telling the truth,” said the living Merlin. “I can tell. How very amusing. Well, well ... Who knew such a small thing as you could kill a Merlin? But after all, he turned away from real power when he defied our father. I don’t have time for this. Someone else will find my missing King for me; and when Artur is back under my wing again ... I think perhaps I’ll destroy this whole stupid Nightside before I go home again.”
He disappeared abruptly, gone in a moment, taking his iron throne with him. I let my breath out in a long gasp and leaned back against the bar for support. My legs were shaking so badly they could hardly support me. It’s not every day you outbluff the Devil’s only begotten son ... Suzie slipped her shotgun into the sheath on her back and took a long drink from her bottle. Her face was cold and calm as always, her hands entirely steady. Alex was busy pouring himself a large drink and spilling most of it. The sense of evil and oppression was gone, but some harsh sense of it still lingered, like a psychic stain. The great jagged crack in the floor wasn’t there any more—if it ever really had been. Sorcerers deal in illusion as often as not. If only because it costs less magic.
Betty got Lucy back onto her feet and led her away. Lucy’s death and rebirth could have been an illusion, too; but I didn’t think so. The reality of it was still clear in Lucy’s face, in her eyes. She was shaking all over, her hands clasped together on her chest where the wound had been. And this from a woman who’d never backed down from anyone, in all the time I’d known her. Betty looked almost as shocked as Lucy. I had to wonder if either of them would ever get over what had happened.
“I will see that smug bastard hauled down off his long throne, trampled underfoot, and fed to the pigs, for what he did to my girls,” said Alex, in a worryingly matter-of-fact voice. I turned to face him.
“Don’t,” I said. “I mean it, Alex. He is way out of your league. Maybe even out of mine. Dead Merlin was dangerous enough; this version is seriously scary. I’m going to have to do a lot of hard thinking and planning, before I’m ready to go after him.”
“But you will go after him?” said Alex.
“Yes,” I said. “He threatened me, and my friends, and no-one gets away with that.”
“He said he was the anti-Christ,” said Suzie.
“Our Merlin rejected his father’s plans for him,” I said. “He could have been the anti-Christ, but he declined the honour. If only because he wouldn’t take orders from anyone. Of course, that was before he met Arthur, and everything changed. The Merlin we just met ... is every inch his father’s son.”
“I’m going to have to get a bigger gun,” said Suzie. “Something heavier, and more ... spiritual.”
“Got to be more useful than an angel’s feather,” Alex said pointedly.
“We’re still here, aren’t we?” I said. “Now, we have work to do, and not a lot of time to do it in. It won’t take Merlin long to find someone who can take him straight to the missing Artur. There’s always someone, in the Nightside. Hell, there are probably already people lining up to sell their souls to him. After speaking to the London Knights, I’m pretty sure Artur came here looking for this world’s Excalibur. His Merlin doesn’t want him to have it because the sword could give Artur power over him. The Lady of the Lake from Sinister Albion wouldn’t give Artur her sword because he wasn’t worthy. So all that’s left to him is to steal some other world’s Excalibur. Which makes him Stark’s best buyer.”
“Who’s this Stark?” said Suzie.
“Rogue London Knight. Currently allied with Queen Mab’s elves. The man who stole Excalibur from me.”
“I hate him already,” said Suzie. “Let me kill him for you.”
“A nice thought, but not until we’ve got the sword back from him,” I said.
“You really think you can find Stark before Merlin does?” said Alex.
“Of course,” I said. “I have a gift; and I know the Nightside better than he ever will.”
“Yes, but ... he’s Merlin!” said Alex. “Alive and in his prime, after fifteen hundred years of practicing his craft! With all the powers of the anti-Christ! He could probably pull the Moon down out of the sky and crash it into the Nightside for laughs! And I’m not sure there’s anyone in the Nightside who could stop him!”
“Do I need to get you a paper bag to breathe into?” I said. “Of course there are people here who could stop him! Off the top of my head, there’s the Lord of Thorns. And Hadleigh Oblivion, the Detective Inspectre. And Jessica Sorrow, the Unbeliever.”
“You really do know some scary people,” said Alex. He made an effort to calm himself. “And there’s the whole Street of the Gods, of course. Sorry. It’s hard to think of anyone else, when that oversized piece of shit is floating right in front of you, larger than life and twice as nasty. Okay, maybe ... there are people here who could slow him down, but I’d still want to be several dimensions away when they tried it.”
“Speed is our best friend here,” I said, trying hard to sound confident and in control. “Get to Stark first and take Excalibur back from him; then Merlin can have his bloody Artur for all I care. Let him take his King home, and we’re rid of two people we’re better off without.”
“What’s to stop Merlin from destroying the whole Nightside before he goes home?” said Suzie.
“I will,” I said. “Once I’ve got Excalibur back.”
“You think you can stop him?” said Alex. “With a magic sword and a feather?”
“Excalibur is a lot more than a sword,” I said patiently. “That’s why Artur wants it. And knowing I’ve got the sword will be enough to stop Merlin coming back again. Now, stand back and prepare to be amazed; it’s finding-things time.”
I concentrated on my gift and sent my mind soaring up and out, shooting up through the bar and rising high into the dark skies above. My mind rose free, no longer held back by the limitations of flesh, and I could See all across the Nightside. The huge Moon glared more brightly than ever though it had no sun to reflect light from. There is no man-in-the-moon face on the Nightside’s Moon; it’s a huge dead silver eye that sees everything and cares for nothing. The stars danced all round me. If I listened really hard, I could hear them singing. I looked down across the brightly lit streets and squares, the flares and smears of gaudy colour as the Nightside spun slowly beneath me. Hot neon blazed, and magics dazzled, but I couldn’t See t
he sword Excalibur anywhere. Its nature made it invisible to everyone except the man who bore it, rightly or not. And for the moment, that man was Stark. So I looked for him instead.
My gift found him easily, a beacon blazing in the night. My all-Seeing mental eye plummeted down into the Nightside and shot along the streets like an invisible comet, rocketing in and out of streets and side alleys until finally it settled outside one very familiar building. I drifted slowly forward, cautious of protective spells that might set off an alarm, but my gift was more subtle than anything this place had. Soon I was inside, in one particular room; and my Vision showed me two men talking together. Back in the bar, I reached out to Suzie, so she could take my hand and share what I was Seeing. I felt her fingers in mine, and together we watched, and listened.
I knew this place. I’d been in this building before. They called it the Fortress, the one place you could go in the Nightside where no-one would bother you. A place of sanctuary and protection. Originally established by a self-help group of alien abductees, who decided to get together and set up a safe place, with constant electronic surveillance and a whole lot of guns. And a complete willingness to shoot the shit out of anyone or anything that tried to take them anywhere against their will. Let the aliens come again and see what was waiting for them. Over the years, the Fortress had become a refuge for anyone who needed it. Good place for Artur to run to and hide. And a good place for Stark to do business ...
The rogue knight stood tall and proud in a pokey little room, facing a man who had to be Artur. The room had only the most basic furnishings and few comforts; the Fortress runs on a very strict budget. They prefer to spend what money they have in constantly upgrading the surveillance systems and buying bigger guns. It isn’t paranoia if they really are out to get you and shove probes up your behind.
Not really the proper setting for a King in exile, as Artur’s expression seemed to confirm. He was tall and elegant, with a pale, aristocratic face that would have been more than usually handsome, if it hadn’t been for the cold, dark eyes and thin-lipped mouth. He held himself like a King, like a man used to giving orders and having them obeyed; but he also looked dangerous in his own right. Like a man who could do his own killing, as and when he felt it necessary. He was wearing a suit of some dark armour; but I couldn’t See it clearly. Must have its own built-in protections.
Stark looked suspiciously at the surveillance camera set ostentatiously into the room’s ceiling. “Any way of turning that thing off?”
“Apparently not,” said Artur. His voice was smooth and cultured, with an undertone of viciousness. “It’s for my own protection, after all. There’s always someone watching. Anyone tries to attack me, the whole Fortress will turn out to defend me. That is why I came here, after all.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Stark. He sounded surprisingly tired for someone so close to getting everything he wanted. “They won’t recognise me and probably wouldn’t care much if they did. I’ve committed no sins in the Nightside.”
“I never got the chance, unfortunately,” said Artur. “I’d barely joined up with Queen Helena and her Exiles, when Walker sent his assassin to kill us all. A very scary young lady; I was lucky to avoid her. I’ve been hiding out here ever since. If Walker finds me ...”
“Walker’s dead,” said Stark. “You’re safe from him and his people ...”
“They say there’s a new Walker,” said Artur. “A certain John Taylor. Yes, I thought you’d know that name. And the assassin who wiped out all my fellow Exiles is his woman and partner. So pardon me if I feel a little ... unsafe, even here. Let us make our deal, so we can both get what we want.”
“You want Excalibur,” said Stark. “I have it. And it’s yours, in return for Merlin’s raising my wife from the dead.”
“I have to have the sword first,” Artur said patiently. “Merlin won’t do a damned thing for you of his own free will. But owning Excalibur will give me control over Merlin; then I will make him restore your dead wife to you.”
“Is Excalibur really that powerful?” said Stark. “I mean, it’s just a magic sword.”
Artur laughed softly, unpleasantly. “You know better than that, Stark. You’ve been carrying it long enough to know better. It’s made its mark on you. I can see it.”
“I am my own man,” Stark said stubbornly. “No sword tells me what to do.”
“Excalibur is far more than just a sword. You have no idea what it really is. To own the sword, to have control over Excalibur, is to have control over the natural world and everything that lives in it. Merlin may be the most powerful sorcerer my world has ever known, he may even be the anti-Christ he claims to be; but all of that is nothing in the face of Excalibur. Merlin is still a living man, and part of the natural order of things, and Excalibur rules the living.”
“I wish I had your confidence,” said Stark.
“I wish I had your sword,” said Artur.
“You will,” said Stark.
I shut down my gift and dropped back into my body, in the bar. I looked at Suzie.
“The Fortress,” she said. “Could have been worse.”
“We have to get there fast,” I said. “Stark’s ready to make the deal.”
“The Fortress is where we first met, after you came back from London Proper,” said Suzie. “And I was so glad to see you again.”
“You pick the strangest moments to get sentimental,” I said. “But it’s time we were moving. Allow me to show you my new toy.”
I took out Walker’s old gold pocket-watch, opened it, and the Portable Timeslip within whisked us away.
The Timeslip dropped us off right outside the Fortress. Suzie shook her head a little and gave me a hard look but said nothing. She’s never been big on surprises. I put the watch away and looked up and down the street; but there was no-one else about. Most people steer clear of the Fortress, to avoid being shot at. The Fortress is always on the lookout for Men in Black. Suzie and I strolled casually down the street as though we just happened to be out for a walk. The Fortress is a massive square building, with all its doors and windows protected by reinforced steel shutters. Heavy-duty gun emplacements all but crowded each other off the flat roof, pointing up as well as down, and the exterior of the building positively bristled with all the very latest surveillance gear. The word FORTRESS had been painted in large letters all across the front of the building, over and over, in every language known to man and a few only spoken in the Nightside. For all those who have good reason to feel threatened, the Fortress is the last safe place in the Nightside.
These days it stands between two new franchises of utter respectability. On the one side stands The Devil Has Designs, where a satanic mechanic will implant black-magic circuitry into your brain, so you can make better contact with the infernal realms. Some people will believe anything ... And on the other side of the Fortress lies Bonsai Dinosaurs. Genetically modified, miniaturised dinosaurs for people who will buy anything. Their window display consisted of a playpen full of miniature mammoths, chirping cheerfully together, and a large metal cage full of one-foot-high Tyrannosaurus rex, shoving and snapping at each other like vicious puppies. Suzie bent over and tapped on the window to get their attention, making ooh and aww noises.
“We are not getting a pet,” I said firmly. “You know very well you’d never walk it, and I’d end up having to look after it. Besides, you never know how big they’d be when they grow up.”
We moved over to stand before the heavily reinforced steel door that was the only entrance to the Fortress. It was, as always, quite definitely shut. You couldn’t blast through that door with a bazooka, and people have tried. Cameras set all round the door whirred loudly as they turned to focus on Suzie and me. I stepped forward and smiled pleasantly into the main security camera.
“Hi!” I said cheerfully. “You know who we are, and you know what we’ll do if you don’t open up. We are not here to cause trouble, for once; we only want to talk to someone. So be a g
ood chap and let us in before Suzie starts feeling unappreciated and does something unfortunate.”
There was a slight pause, then there was the sound of many locks unlocking and many bolts sliding back. The door swung open before us, and I walked in like I owned the place, Suzie strolling casually along beside me. She hadn’t even drawn her shotgun, which I thought showed considerable restraint. The comfortably appointed lobby was entirely deserted, with only a few overturned chairs to suggest that certain people had vacated the area in a hurry. A single desk clerk stood pale and trembling behind the reception desk.
“Oh God,” he said, staring in horrid fascination at Suzie. “Not you again. The last time you were here, you shot up half the building.”
“I get that a lot,” said Suzie.
“Only because it’s true,” I said. “Last time I was here, you had half the security staff pinned down behind a barricade.”
“That was just business. They shouldn’t take these things personally. I would have been ever so much more destructive if it had been personal.”
“Somehow, knowing that doesn’t help,” said the desk clerk. “I was on duty the last time you were here, and I’m still on pills.”
“We’re here looking for King Artur of Sinister Albion,” I said. “ Tell us what room he’s in, and we’ll go away and stop bothering you. Won’t that be nice?”
“Room 1408,” the clerk said immediately. “Never liked the man. Trouble-maker. Knew it the minute I laid eyes on him. But you must realise ... the Fortress won’t let you walk in and take him. He’s entitled to protection even if he is an aristocratic little turd who never tips. You kick his door in and try to haul him away, and everyone in the place will come running with really big guns in their hands.”
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