by Ren Garcia
Dav sat there for a moment, trying to process the information Ennez had just given him. Beyond, Kilos was admiring a bronze sword that fought by itself when activated: The GEORGE WIND of House Hannover, Dav's mother's house. Dav knew that weapon well and it, like the ALLYSON of House Colt, worked.
"He checked it three times, sir," Beth said.
"Yep … three times."
"Beth," Dav said, "are you ever going to stop calling me `sir'?"
"No, sir." She smiled—she cherished Dav.
He shrugged and continued. "Ennez, I knew Hath from the time we were both children."
"And so? Were you there for her birth? Did you witness it?"
"No—how could I? I wasn't even ten, for Creation's sake!"
"Well then, either the Dursts adopted her or they took her in as a refugee and raised her as their own. In any case, she's not related to them at all. She is, however, related to Syg—a genetically perfect match."
"She's either your sister, Syg," Beth said, "or she's a clone of you."
Syg felt her heart stop.
"This is utter nonsense," Dav said again.
Syg began to cry. Dav took her and held her.
"Sorry, Dav—that's what we found. Did you want us to lie about it to you?"
"No, no, Ennez … it's just that instead of clearing up this mystery one way or the other, it has been enhanced. I suppose, if I think on it, Hath doesn't overly resemble anyone else in the Dursts. Nobody else had her green eyes or red hair. Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean anything. But if she was adopted or boarded, she never said a thing about it. She was proud to be a Durst."
"You're damn right she was," Kilos said, approaching the table holding the NAS, a small glowing knife of House Albans. "You know how many times she dressed me down, proclaiming her Durstness the whole time?"
"Then she must not have known herself," Beth said. "You said Countess Medaline didn't willingly offer up any samples, you had to lift it. She must have known Hath wasn't her sister. She must know the truth and didn't want it coming out."
Dav dried Syg's tears. "Syg, do you want to continue this, or shall we leave the matter as it stands?"
"I need to know, Dav—something. Captain Hathaline … my sister …"
"Or your clone."
"Or my damn clone! Yes, thanks, Beth."
Kilos sat down. "Listen, I told my husband back at the University of Tusck what Syg told us about the whole Black Hat/Hulgismen abduction thing. I also told him about the Lady Poe/Shadow tech female thing, and he became fascinated with the subject and began doing research. Some of the things he found out. I have no idea how he comes up with this stuff, but it applies specifically to this conversation."
"What do you have, Ki?" Dav asked.
"Quite a lot, actually, and I need to know if you really want to hear what my husband found out."
"I do," Beth chirped, already a gossip lover.
Dav looked at Syg. "What do you say, Syg?"
"Yes, go ahead, Ki. Let's hear it."
"All right, don't say I didn't warn you. He found evidence of the abductions, just like Syg said—bits and pieces, a news item here, a bit of correspondence there—and a picture began to form. He thinks the reason Lady Poe didn't get abducted was—and are you ready for this—Sadric killed the Hulgismen that were there to abduct her. He fought and killed them when they tried to take her."
"You're saying my father … killed somebody?"
"Yes, with your CARG. He defended his baby daughter. Would you have expected him not to?"
"No … but … I can't imagine my father killing anybody. The picture just doesn't fit."
Ki looked around the room. "There's more, Dav, if you want to hear it."
"Go on," he said.
Beth poured herself a drink and scooted in, loving the gossip, tingling with it.
Fiddling with the NAS, Kilos continued. "My husband found evidence that the Black Abbess tried to abduct Lady Poe again, years later … more Hulgismen—more fighting, more killing, and then there was Hathaline, out of the blue."
"My father killed more people? Are you kidding me?"
"No, Sadric was not there for the second attack. He was away sabotaging a Grenville gala. My husband thinks it was either Pardock or your mother who fought them off. Probably your mother."
"Well, I can buy that more than I can my father doing it. So, what are you saying—that Hath was a Hulgisman?"
"Ask my husband. He's the egghead, not me. But there's more. The Dursts already had six children, all girls. Lady Evaline was getting old but got pregnant again with a seventh child, and this time it was a boy—they finally had their heir, their Lord Durst."
"And?" Beth said, fully absorbed, holding her glass.
"He was born dead … stillborn it's called, I think."
"That almost never happens," Ennez said. "The statistics against that are staggering."
"Well, nevertheless, Ennez," she said, annoyed. "Maybe it was due to Lady Evaline's age—I don't know. Anyway, there they were, grieving over the loss of their Lord, their heir, when suddenly Hathaline shows up."
"Ki, when were you planning on telling me this?" Dav asked, slightly perturbed.
"I only found out a day or two ago myself, for Creation's sake!"
"I don't understand," Syg shrieked. "Where did Hathaline come from then, and how can she be related to me?"
Beth poured herself another glass and grabbed a plate of snacks. She was loving this.
Ki toyed with the NAS. Dav took it away from her.
She continued. "My husband is still gathering information, but he thinks he knows what happened—and I wouldn't argue against him if I were you. So, Poe was attacked again when she was in her twenties— more Hulgismen, I guess. They tried to kidnap her—to take her to the Black Abbess's church. Either your mother or Pardock fought and killed them. One of the Hulgismen involved in the attack was pregnant and near her time. As she lay there dead, slain, they saw movement in her belly. They cut her open and removed a baby—a beautiful baby girl with striking green eyes."
"How can your husband know that?" Ennez asked.
"I don't know, gossip has a great staying power, gets written down, becomes a matter of public record. My husband can find out anything if he wants to. In any event, when Sadric returned to the castle, he found out about the attack and about this baby girl—a bit of greeneyed detritus from the attack, you might say. Sadric, knowing his friends the Dursts were grieving over the loss of their son, presented them with this baby girl—to slake their pain, I suppose. And they raised her as their own. Nothing more was said."
Davage thought a moment. "Syg, you must have been in your sixties then. You were a fairly new Black Hat, yes?"
"Yes …"
"Could the Black Abbess have used some of your Hulgismen for an abduction plot?"
"She was always taking our Hulgismen for this and that … yes, it's possible."
"Then I suppose that could be the correct story. Hath … was the daughter of one of your Hulgismen. Hulgismen are cloned, so I don't know how one could have been pregnant."
"Female Hulgismen are pregnant all the time. I don't know from whom."
"Well, that would make Lady Hathaline a daughter of your clone— your granddaughter," Beth said with a mouthful of food.
Syg glared at Beth.
"But let's be patient for a moment. Hath couldn't be a Hulgisman. She had the Sight," Dav said.
"Well, she wasn't a Shadow tech female—she didn't have the mark … so why not have the Sight? It's rare, but it's not unheard of, I suppose. And since she was in close proximity to you, maybe she chose to concentrate in that area, since you could do it. Maybe she wanted to please you."
Dav stood up and walked away from the table. "If you'll excuse me … I wish to be alone for a bit."
He put the NAS back on the wall and walked away.
Syg stood. "Dav … Dav!"
She ran after him. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"
He took her hand. "Walk with me, Syg,"
They walked out of the hall into a dark corridor. Syg stopped him. "Dav, what is wrong? Please talk to me. If anyone here should feel upset, it's me."
"I'm all right, Syg. It's just … Hath was my friend. I thought I knew everything there was to know about her. And now, here she is, a second-generation clone of you. Not a Durst; being a Durst meant so much to her."
"I suppose it's good her surrogate parents loved her enough to keep the truth quiet."
"My mother and Pardock never said anything."
"Would you expect them to? It was in the past and need not be discussed further, until I came along—her look-alike, or I should say, she mine."
"I guess I've known you for my whole life then, Syg. First your clone … then you."
"Or my … granddaughter, I suppose."
"Yes, or your granddaughter."
She put her arms around him. "It could be that we were fated to be together, you and me. Someone, somewhere, in a cosmic place, wanted us together, and that suits me fine."
They kissed.
There was movement at the end of the corridor.
They looked. In the darkness, Dav could see someone standing at the end of the corridor in a hooded robe. The figure vanished.
Dave Wafted.
Syg Wafted.
9
THE BATTLE IN THE CORRIDOR
They emerged at the end of the hall where the figure had stood.
Dav lit his Sight. Down in the murky depths of the corridor he saw a figure standing there. It was wearing a robe, tall and thin. The figure appeared strange in Dav's Sight—as though there were many figures standing there, huddled, occupying the same space. He'd never seen anything like it.
Syg jumped in front of him, her expression lost in wonder.
"Dav …" she exclaimed staring at his glowing eyes.
"Syg," Dav shouted, "not now!"
He Sighted through her.
He saw the figure move. He saw something hurtling toward them.
Like lightning, he unsaddled his CARG and pushed Syg out of the way. With a quick downstroke, he deflected a nasty-looking brass knife, which dug deep into the stone floor.
He made to tear down the hall and engage the figure, but a soft hand on his shoulder held him back.
Syg, having recovered from her short trip into Dav's Sight, brutally caught the figure in a Boxed-in Sten, Syg's control over it masterful. The figure cringed in surprise for a moment, bounced around in the box, and fell.
Dav and Syg moved down the hall toward it.
"Is this person still alive, Syg?"
"Possibly. I wouldn't intentionally kill anybody in front of you, Dav," she said cheerfully as they arrived at the fallen body.
In the dim lighting, Syg could see a tall, thin man in a thick, heavy robe. His hair was cut short and spiky and dyed an angry color of red.
"Hmmm," Syg said, "spiky red hair. That is vaguely familiar for some reason."
Dav Sighted the body to make sure he was out.
The man was dead … the Boxed Sten, the brutal embrace, was too much for him. But he saw something further … something strange. He saw many people inside of him, struggling to get out.
"Syg, back away!" he said, pulling her from the man.
"Why?"
Suddenly, they saw Princess Marilith, face painted, long blue hair, and colorful veils, come climbing out of the fallen man, from out of his robes.
Growling, Syg fired a blast of Silver tech, enveloping her in it. She savagely pulled her out and slammed her down head first. She then constricted the Silver tech with relish, and Marilith screamed in breathless pain, her ribs and bones snapping in the silver embrace. Syg began unwrapping the dying Marilith; she wanted to throttle her with her own two hands.
Dav Sighted something … something terrible.
Another Marilith came crawling out of the fallen robed man. She drew a large brass knife and sent it rocketing toward the back of Syg's head.
"SYG!"
Dav whipped his CARG around and just barely was able to clip the knife with the cork-screw end of his weapon up into the lofty heights, where it stuck in the stone ceiling.
Dav brought the CARG down into Marilith's head, splitting it in two. She fell back into the fallen man, as if he was some type of endless hollow space, her arms waving in a blood-splattering death frenzy.
Dav Sighted again. He led Syg away toward the wall of the corridor.
"Get your Sten up and keep it up!" He was feeling a little shaken after almost witnessing Syg's death.
"Stay close, love!" she said and lifted a quick Sten around them. Dav could see it shimmering in the dark.
Mariliths began pouring out of the fallen man.
Two.
Four.
Eight.
Sixteen.
Thirty-two.
The leering group of Mariliths gathered around the edges of the Sten, confident and arrogant, and looked at it for a moment, fully able to see it, apparently. They lightly prodded it with metal-capped fingers that seemed to counteract the Sten's shocking power. They made laughing, chiding faces at Dav and Syg, certain they were in complete control of this situation. They were going to enjoy this.
Syg didn't wait; she extended the Sten, trying to push them into the far wall.
They held it fast, leaning against it, their metal-capped fingers sparking on the vibrant surface of the Sten. They howled with condescending laughter.
A few other "Mariliths" drew handfuls of little colorful trinkets from their pouches and began scattering them on the floor; there were little frogs, cats, pink birds, and an assortment bouncing, multi colored balls. The balls, in a flurry of bouncing motion, appeared to be reacting with the Sten, draining power from it, and they grew in size steadily as they bounced.
"Dav—I think I'm going to pass out!" Syg cried.
Dav kissed her. "Pull it back close to you, and keep it up! Do not let it drop!" With that he Wafted through the field, right into the mass of leering, cavorting Mariliths.
With CARG whirling, Davage engaged them.
"Oh, look at this, he wants to fight!" one said.
"Truly—we've got a fighter on our hands," another said.
"Oh, he's handsome. Let us leave his face intact so that I may kiss him once he's dead!"
In a confident, condescending manner, they drew all sorts of knobbed, bladed, and projectile weapons and responded in kind, and soon the corridor was a buzz saw of movement.
"I think I'll cut his—urk!" a "Marilith" said as she fell headless, her weapon clattering to the stone floor along with her quivering, headless body.
Syg, behind her shrunken Sten Field, had no idea what to do. She had never been in a fight where she was actually concerned about anyone but herself. Her Sten having been somehow counteracted, she would have normally scoured the corridor clear with a Shadow tech maelstrom, and nothing in that hallway would be alive afterwards— but she couldn't with Dav in the middle of all of them.
What was she supposed to do?
A Marilith fell in two pieces and roughly bounced off of her Sten, a victim of Dav's glinting CARG. Instantly Marilith's guise fell away, and she reverted into a short, homely girl with spiked red hair, the look of shock and surprise indelibly etched into her now-dead face.
She tried a TK. Quick, easy to use, and powerful, TKs were an oftoverlooked staple of any Black Hat's arsenal. In her many battles with the Sisterhood, she'd seen them do amazing things with it, TKs being not flashy enough for a Black Hat. She tried to pick a Marilith up with TK; she was going to toss her about a bit, use her like a club against the others. As she did, a flock of little pink bird trinkets, scattered about on the floor by the Mariliths, took flight and happily chirped about the corridor. The Mariliths joyously laughed. Somehow the birds absorbed and diverted her TK energy.
The TK was defeated in a flock of pink birds.
Syg tried to Dirge. "You there!" she Dirged, picking
one out of the crowd. "Fall on your own knife!"
The Mariliths laughed. A toy frog resting on the floor amid the various trinkets began speaking, mimicking Syg's Dirge, somehow muffling it, rendering it harmless.
Her Dirge was defeated.
Not knowing what else to do, she Pointed. She felt a bit shy about using such a gruesome killing Gift such as the Point with Dav around—she didn't want him to see that particular aspect of her—but what could she do? They were in a serious, no-quarter fight, and she had to help out. The "Marilith" she'd picked out recoiled in pain as the deadly Point energy wrapped around her. Reaching into a pouch at her waist, she pulled out a small blue flower. The flower began growing, began taking in the potent Point energy. She quickly advanced on Syg, holding a long, cruel knife in the other hand. She reared back and lunged.