by Jack Conner
Danielle nodded. “Also, of course, we must find out who ordered Ludwig’s death. If we can do that, we might be able to unravel this whole mess.”
“I’ll fight for that,” Sophia said. “I attended the Sled Race every year for many years and considered Ludwig a friend, or as close to one as I ever allowed myself to have. About the other stuff—yes, to that, as well.”
“I’m in, too,” the albino said.
“And me,” Harry said. “Obviously what Sarnova wants is in the best interests of humanity, all things considered.”
Ruegger didn’t have to say anything, but attention did turn to Cloire, who shifted uncomfortably.
“Whatever,” she said.
Danielle’s lips thinned. “To be honest, I don’t even know if I can work with you, Cloire.”
“Cloire,” Sophia said slowly, “if you were no longer with Harry, would you return to your old ways?”
The she-wolf shrugged. “Now I’m with Harry, I indulge his principles. That’s all I know.”
“That’s enough for me,” Harry said, then added, “for now.”
“I don’t know if it’s enough for me,” Sophia said. “Or Danielle. I’ve worked hard over the years to maintain my morality. I don’t know if I can abide working with someone that has none.”
“Harry’s the only human here,” Cloire said. “The rest of us here are predators made to prey on humans. Fuck, I’m the only one at this table that sticks to the code of a predator, and I’m the one taking shit. Does a wolf care which rabbit it eats? No. It chooses the easiest catch—like me. I don’t take pleasure in my victims’ pain, but I don’t flinch from it, either. It’s the cycle of life, guys. You resist it, but it’s there. Anyway, am I on the Avengers team or what? Not that I give a shit.”
“You’re honest,” Sophia said. “I guess that counts for something.”
Danielle leaned forward. “The real question is, What are you going to do now?”
“You mean now I don’t have to spring Ruegger?” Cloire said.
“Right.”
That had been the deal Cloire had made with the others in her death-squad, Ruegger knew. She would return to them under the condition they helped her break Ruegger free if he lost the chess match. They hadn’t liked it, but they’d made plans for it, and now they wouldn’t have to go through with them, although Ruegger had never been sure that they would.
“My crew wants me back,” she said, “And since they never had to fulfill their half of the deal, I don’t have to hold up my end, either. Hell, I’d rather stay with Harry.”
“Would you?” Sophia said. “Because if you would, maybe you’re not as evil as you make yourself out to be.”
“Evil? Fuck that shit. I’m a wolf, remember. Wolves don’t know evil. Anyway, I’m not saying I’m fighting for your cause or any of that bullshit. I’m in this for me, and right now Harry’s with me. If he’s in this, I am. I guess. So what now?”
“I think our best chance of getting answers is to either get ahold of Subaire or somehow drag the truth out of Junger and Jagoda themselves,” Ruegger said.
“Also, there’s another priority,” Danielle said. “Maleasoel is a friend and she’s about to make a terrible mistake. Maybe we can find a way to stop her before it’s too late for her, and us.”
“Fat chance,” said Jean-Pierre. “Malie wasn’t there last time I checked, but the Libertarians I was being held by didn’t seem the type to just go away. I mean, think about it; these are the shades attracted to Liberty because they liked the idea of taking over the world. They want power. Attacking the Castle, whether to avenge Ludwig or to seize Sarnova’s empire—that’s something they’d die for.”
“They must be stopped,” Ruegger agreed. “We do that, put Blackie back on the throne, get our answers and deal out judgment, then get out of here.”
“I don’t get it,” said Sophia. “Why so afraid to stick around—I mean, if the war was ended? If someone offered me a throne, I’d be tempted to take it. You alluded to something earlier.”
Ruegger nodded to Harry. “Why don’t you take this one? It’s not something I like to talk about.”
“If you say so, buddy.”
“So,” pressed Sophia, “what’s the secret?”
“No secret,” Harry said. “It’s just that Ruegger wishes to avoid the corrupting influence of power. If he stays, he’ll be heir to the most powerful throne in the underworld. It’s not what he wants. He’s had power before, when he was a general in the Old South, and doesn’t want it again. That’s all.”
Danielle watched him. “You still planning to move to Swakashani, Harry? If you are, I might just drop by and help you move.”
He nodded. “I’ve had enough of New York. Too many memories. Too many enemies.”
“I know the feeling,” said Cloire. “Still, I might want to return there someday, and I don’t want Amelia’s goons descending on me when I do.” She glanced at her watch and said, “Which means I’d better catch Mauchlery while he’s still in the Throne Room and ask him to tell her to take it easy on me ... and my former crewmates.”
“Does that mean you’re leaving?” Harry said. “I mean, the table?”
She nodded. “I need to get this done as soon as possible. But, ah, I may need some moral support ...”
He smiled. “Sure. I’ll come along.”
Danielle looked to Ruegger. “You want to go?”
“Back to the Throne Room?”
“I think it’d be interesting to see what your old nemesis is up to.”
“Then I’ll meet you when you get back. I’ve got something I have to do.”
From across the table, Jean-Pierre nodded. “Ruegger’s right, Danielle. He and I have some business to tend to.”
“Business? Ah. Roche Sarnova.”
Ruegger nodded. “So I guess the plan for now is you, Cloire, Harry and Sophe go see the Ambassador—or the new king, whatever he’s calling himself—and Jean-Pierre and I go to Blackie.”
Sophia shook her head. “I never said I was going to see Mauchlery. Mind if I tag along?”
Jean-Pierre frowned. “No, Sophe. This visit needs to be quiet, personal. Just me and Ruegger. You go ahead, back to the Throne Room.”
“I’ve got no business there, and I hate that boys’ club shit.”
“Then how about this: once Ruegger and I’ve seen Roche Sarnova, I meet you at the casino.”
“Fine,” she agreed slowly. “Just don’t do anything stupid while you’re gone, alright?”
“Trust me.”
* * *
“So you think they’ve got more zombies up here?” Kharker said around his cigar.
“I’m certain of it,” the Dark Lord said, sipping coffee. “Junger and Jagoda knew that little squad of monks they sent to defend Kiernevar wouldn’t be enough. They were just a distraction. Did you notice how rotted they were?”
The Hunter nodded. “They were the expendables.”
“The better-kept zombies were there, too, but as spies. Junger and Jagoda were probably watching through their eyes—probably been doing it since they got here—studying every defense we’ve got.”
“Sacrificing those monks was just to throw us off guard?”
“More likely throwing them at us was our friends’ way of showing that they’ve got a big enough army to waste some.”
“That doesn’t bode well.”
“No.”
“Especially now the Libertarians have come,” Kharker said. “I’m surprised that Malie would ally herself with the likes of Junger and Jagoda.”
“Me, too, but apparently it’s true. I was able to read the minds of the humans they brought along.”
“How’d you know to look for them, anyway?”
“The Libertarians had caught on to my wolves, so I stretched out my thoughts for anything else readable in the area. As it turned out, I picked up a hundred mortals. Fodder, I suppose.”
“And food.”
“Once they ca
me close to the mountain, I was able to scan them.”
Kharker blew a cloud of smoke. “Let’s just hope the Libertarians and the Balaklava kill each other off.”
Someone knocked on the door, and after being invited one of the guards stationed outside entered and bowed respectfully. “You have visitors, Lord Sarnova. The Royal Heir, the Vampire Ruegger, and the Werewolf Jean-Pierre. Shall I let them in?”
“Please.”
A moment later Ruegger and Jean-Pierre moved into the den, where Sarnova and Kharker were sipping their drinks and staring into the flames of the fireplace. The guard left.
“Welcome,” the Dark Lord said. “My heir, and my best friend’s best friend. Please, sit down.”
They obliged.
“I’m almost surprised to see you still here,” Ruegger told Sarnova. “I thought you might be down in the zoo by now.”
“Please, Ruegger, have some respect. It’s not a zoo; it’s a refuge. I didn’t place those creatures down there for my own amusement, rather for their protection. There is a difference, you know.”
“You’ve got soldiers down there, don’t you?” Jean-Pierre said.
“Indeed. Soldiers I placed before Francois made his move, to scare off any more of the Balaklava’s forays into the Refuge. Soldiers that don’t know I’m not their true leader anymore. So you’re wondering why I’m still here and not down there.”
“It’s one of the reasons Ruegger and I came.”
“I will go down there, in time. First, I’ve got to come up with a viable plan. You see, things are worse than you might think. The Libertarians are already here. Worse, they’ve befriended the Balaklava—”
“Impossible! They ra—” Ruegger cleared his throat. “Junger and Jagoda abused Malie; why would the Libertarians befriend them?”
“Perhaps she deceived you.”
“No, Roche. Her wings—her wings—had been ripped off. You can’t fake that.”
“Maybe she ripped them off herself in order to convince you of other Balaklavian misdeeds.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“It doesn’t matter, lad,” Kharker said. “The Libertarians are here—in the Sabo, where their new friends Junger and Jagoda have admitted them.” He made a rueful face. “That sign that you and Blackie went through so much trouble to put up, and which I went to a similar amount of trouble to pull down—yes, don’t look at me like that; I did it and I’d do it again if things were different—well, it was useless. The Libbies just walked right in. They were expected. And they came in greater numbers than before, because Maleasoel arrived finally and brought reinforcements—and, to top it all off, Junger and Jagoda aren’t just squatting in the Sabo. They’ve conquered ... and converted ... it.”
“That’s all we need,” muttered Jean-Pierre. “So the Sabo’s just another zombie now?”
Sarnova gave a tired nod. “Not just another zombie, though. It’s the ultimate deathtrap. In its final seconds, it sent a telepathic message to me saying its own offspring had turned against it.”
“Its offspring,” echoed Ruegger. “You mean the parasites?”
“Junger and Jagoda had turned them into zombies and used them to capture and convert the Sabo itself. With it, their own human zombies, their monsters, plus the Libertarians ... well, things could be better. Francois should be stopping by anytime, and when he does we’ll draw up plans.”
“Why wait? Let’s start now.”
“You’re awful quick, aren’t you, Ruegger?”
The Darkling studied him. “What were those other motivations Mauchlery referred to?”
“You mean about the war?”
“There are other kinds?”
Sarnova and Kharker exchanged looks, after which the Dark Lord took a deep breath and said, “All right, Ruegger. I’ll lay it out for you. You know all the dragons and assorted other magical creatures tucked away in this mountain? Well, most of them are kept alive by enchantments sorcerers brought to life many centuries ago. There are artificial suns, for those creatures that need the sun, there are artificial plants, et cetera. Most spells are not of the sort that last indefinitely.”
“You mean the spells will stop working someday.”
“Not just someday. A particular day, in about six months’ time. That’s the hidden reason behind my war, the hidden reason why I wanted immortals to have their own official homeland—because if we don’t, those creatures will die. No one will ever know the glory of a dragon, or the mystery of a sygot, or what have you. They will die, Ruegger, almost all of them, unless they’re set free. I’d hoped to be able to give them a place to roam unmolested ... but now, if our side loses against Subaire—which I guess it’s already done—they won’t have that chance. Magic will be gone from the earth.”
“Why can’t you just bring in some more sorcerers and recreate the spells?”
“All the known sorcerers are dead. That’s a different story, one that I won’t go into now, but it’s the truth. Trust me, Ruegger, if it was that simple, I would’ve surrendered to Subaire a month ago. But it’s not.”
“Then your only chance is telling her about them—the dragons and everything else.”
From behind his fragrant curtain of smoke, Kharker swore. “Damnit, Ruegger, you’re so young. You don’t know the history behind these things. Don’t you see, it was Subaire who killed the sorcerers. She hates magic. Sure, I’ll give her the fact that she had reason to do it ... the sorcerers were growing more powerful than any of us believed possible and were in fact conspiring to turn their former immortal masters and associates into their slaves ... but the fact remains that she would gladly let the dragons rot if she had that opportunity.”
Ruegger said nothing, just nodded his head in silence. For a few moments, no one spoke, and it was in this air of grim thoughtfulness that Francois Mauchlery entered, bowed to the small assemblage and said, “Good to see you all. Would you mind if I had a moment alone with Roche?”
“You can speak in front of them,” Sarnova said.
Francois looked as if he’d just stuck his hand into a wall socket. “But, Roche ...”
“Look, Francois, I’ve forgiven you, and I still think of you as a friend, but at this point in time I’d just assume there be witnesses.”
Francois appeared hurt. “You don’t trust me?”
Sarnova glared at the Ambassador, his face a cold mask hiding something Ruegger did not want to see, a great and terrible pain.
“Proceed,” commanded Sarnova. “What news of General Brasher?”
For just a second, the Ambassador’s lips spasmed in discomfort. “That was just a ruse, Roche. Brasher was never under attack; it was simply a device I used to leave the room. I’d hoped that Ruegger would not spot my likeness on the mural—but I’d placed spies in the room to watch for such an occasion. When it happened, one of them reported to me ... and I assembled my forces.”
“You were fast.”
“I had expected it.”
“And if Ruegger hadn’t seen your likeness?”
“I don’t know.”
“It was just an excuse, then. You would’ve initiated the coup whether or not Ruegger had figured you out.”
“That I can’t say.”
Painfully, Sarnova lowered his eyes, and in a softer voice said, “What of Subaire’s advance?”
“That part was true.”
“Subaire is coming, too?” Ruegger said.
“Yes, Ruegger. She is.” Roche’s thick black eyebrows drew together in a scowl. “Francois, when can we expect her?”
“Anytime, my friend. It all depends on how well organized she is. All we know is that our underground spies didn’t report on time, but then they’re only supposed to report three times a day, unless in the case of emergency. If Subaire knew this and timed her attack well ... she could be here by now, if she and her army were traveling fast.”
“We have to assume that they were.”
Kharker plunged his cigar into the stone as
htray. “So that’s why she took so long.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Maleasoel,” Kharker snorted. “I mean the reason why she delayed her rendezvous with D’Aguila and the others. Just long enough for her to go to London ... and make arrangements.”
Ruegger blinked. “You’re right. Damn it all.”
“What is it?” Jean-Pierre said. “I’m missing something.”
Ruegger swore. “If Malie’s willing to make allies out of the Balaklava, what would prevent her from doing the same with Subaire? Gods. If that’s true, then I think our best bet would be to attack when the Libertarians meet with Subaire before the strike.”
Sarnova nodded. “If that’s the situation, then yes, that is certainly a possible option.”
“What is?” Jean-Pierre asked.
“That if Maleasoel did in fact ally herself with Subaire—which evidently seems to be the case, based on the facts as we know them: the absence of Maleasoel from her army and the subsequent withdrawal of Subaire from London—then they’ll attack the Castle together. But Maleasoel might distrust Subaire enough—or vice versa—that she would require some form of contact before they hit us.”
Mauchlery ran a nervous hand through his pale flaxen hair. “Yes, if they’re planning a meet, it might be our only chance to get at them before they do the same to us. Even if only a few of them are actually there, at least that’ll give us some prisoners we can question. We can find out what their strike plans are.”
“Once they know we’ve caught on, they’ll have to revert to Plan B, whatever that is.” The Dark Lord rubbed his chin. “In my experience, Plan Bs are generally less effective than Plan As.”
“It’s worth a shot, Roche, but I don’t think you should doubt Malie’s skill at strategy,” Kharker said.
“I don’t doubt her skill, Kharker. I’m just hoping to buy us some time. And hope that her lesser skill at choosing allies will destroy her.”
“I don’t want her hurt,” said Ruegger.
“My heir, with any luck it will be Malie herself that personally contacts Subaire’s force—or maybe even Subaire herself, dare to dream—and we can bag one or both of them without hurting a fly.”