by Nazri Noor
There was the distant recollection of what Arachne would ask of me if I ever beseeched her for more help in the future. And there was, of course, the slight matter of Amaterasu hypothetically being pissed at me for breaking her mirror. Carver stared at me so fixedly that I just knew he could read all that in my mind.
“Very well. As long as you know the consequences. Surely there must be a handful of entities you can consult.” He waved his hand across his desk, the verdigris dagger disappearing where his fingers passed over it, vanishing back into nothingness.
“Last question,” I said, my mind still processing the space where the dagger sat only seconds ago. “Are there more of these tools? These weapons?”
“I would presume,” Carver said. “Though I confess that your sword is unique. I’d never seen one of its kind before. Perhaps there are others. It would do well for us to keep all that we can find.”
I drummed my fingers on his table. “For your collection, I assume?”
Carver looked at me sideways. “Not at all. For our arsenal. When it comes down to it, these objects may be the best weapons we have against the Eldest and their agents.” He stroked his beard, his gaze going distant. “Imagine if they sent their avatars.”
The very mention of the word sent tremors crawling through my skin. Avatars were representatives of earth’s entities and gods, possessing only fractions of their power. Both Hecate and Dionysus had sent their avatars to deliver messages to me in the past. I hadn’t considered it, but I should have realized that the Eldest could possibly send their own avatars to do their insane bidding.
“You mean – the Eldest can bring out their own avatars? What, to herald their coming?”
“It’s not something to worry about, Dustin. If you run into an avatar of the Eldest, it’s already far, far too late. The mere sight of some of them would drive you utterly insane.” Carver adjusted his tie, stood erect, then smiled congenially, as if his last words hadn’t just filled my entire body with freezing dread, as if this entire conversation hadn’t irreparably blown my mind. “Shall we break for lunch?”
Chapter 14
Mama Rosa had prepared one of her signature dishes for lunch – sinigang, a sour Filipino stew filled with vegetables, flavored with tamarind, and starring some kind of meat, anything from fish to chicken or pork. Today’s sinigang featured succulent prawns, which was perfect. Sweet, crisp seafood went well with the tangy soup.
Gil, who I’d learned normally only ate raw meat when he needed to speed up his recovery process, partook of the sinigang, along with a hefty serving of rice. Carver poured boiling cupfuls down his throat, relishing how we weren’t in public, where he would have to pretend to be a little more human by acknowledging mundane concerns such as the temperature of liquids. Asher relished every spoonful, his face screwing up each time he sipped.
“This is incredible. Better than my mom’s.”
I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Mama Rosa was reacting to what he’d said. Parts of her face, I realized, were attempting to rearrange themselves into something resembling a smile. I swear I could hear the stone of her face cracking in the attempt. It was terrifying. Asher smiled back.
We were having lunch inside of the Boneyard, at the makeshift kitchen that Carver had generously prepared for us humans. Sterling had no need for sustenance, but vampires could eat for enjoyment, and the absence of sunlight in the domicile meant that he could join us for lunch. He was mostly quiet, and honestly, quite friendly by his standards. Lunch was nice, really, even pleasant.
But nobody would deny that there was a sort of tension in the air, the awful knowing that we were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There had been three doppelganger attacks so close together already, and that was discounting the ones we didn’t know about.
It was possible that the Lorica was receiving reports on them, too, which meant that it was only a matter of time until they came down on my ass. I chewed, fresh prawn turning into rubber in my mouth, and raised my head as I swallowed, resigned to once again being marked as a fugitive by the Lorica. That was when I spotted the glimmer in the corner of the kitchen cabinets.
This had happened once before, and I knew better about what to anticipate. The sparkle came from a little blue gem that was moving, primarily because the spider in which it was embedded was also moving, sliding down a thread of silk that it was forming into a particularly complicated web.
It was one of Arachne’s secret-spiders, probably come to report its findings. If this was going to go as it went the last time, it meant that the spider was going to weave the arcane equivalent of a flatscreen TV. I thought it best to warn the others.
“Guys,” I said, pointing up at the ceiling.
Asher knitted his eyebrows. “The hell is that?”
The telltale amber glow coming from the end of our table told me that Carver was preparing a spell. Even worse was Mama Rosa rushing to one of the cabinets in the kitchen, rummaging quickly, then raising her arm triumphantly when she found what she was looking for: a can of bug spray.
“No no no,” I cried out. Why the hell was everyone in the Boneyard so damn bloodthirsty, even Rosa? “It’s a friend. It’s one of Arachne’s spiders. She must have information for us about the doppelgangers.”
Carver stared at me momentarily, but he lowered his hand and nodded. Mama Rosa didn’t move, but she held the bug spray close to her chest, wielding it like a sacred weapon. Asher shoved another spoonful of rice in his mouth, then slurped more of his soup.
The spider completed its web and settled into the center. Light radiated from its back, spreading across the web until it created the same flickering screen Arachne had once used to communicate with me in my bedroom.
“How is this happening?” Carver asked, more out of interest than indignation. It was a fair question. The Boneyard was supposed to be magically warded, after all. It was the main reason we’d never been found or raided by the Lorica.
The silhouette of Arachne’s face blurred, then finally came into focus on the web-screen. “One wonders indeed. But Arachne has her ways, and my offspring have theirs. No place or person in this known world can hide its secrets from us.”
“But of course,” Carver said, his voice more amiable. “Welcome to our home, Arachne.”
“And I thank you for your welcome, sorcerer.” She angled her head, peering out of her screen, then grinned. “Ah, so many more sweetlings here today. It is good to see you again, Dustin Graves. And Asher Mayhew, too.”
Asher paused from decimating his food long enough to lift a hand. “Sup.”
“I won’t tarry,” Arachne said. “I bring word of what I’ve learned of the meat sacks that have dared to assume my precious sweetling’s form. It appears that they are attracted to magical items, no matter how small or insignificant. Like magpies, they are, looking for treasures, for anything pretty and shiny.”
“Yeah,” Gil said. “We kind of figured that out.”
“Ah, excellent. But have you discovered that they all come from the same source?”
“I think that should be obvious,” Sterling said, in a snooty enough tone that I thought I had reason to worry about Arachne’s reaction. But she only tilted her head and grinned. “The same pattern of attack, the same creature, clearly they all come from the same place.”
“That much is transparent, blood-cursed. But that is not what I meant. What I wonder is whether you’ve realized that these creatures are created from the same stock.”
I blinked. Somewhere along my spine, something cold and uncomfortable began to build. “Created? Sorry. I would have thought that this was a race of shapeshifters, or copycats wearing some really good glamours. Something like that.”
“Yes,” Carver said, rubbing his chin. “The phial of blood Sterling returned to me corroborates what Arachne is suggesting. These creatures are not from a different species. Their source is human in nature.” He glanced at me, studying my face, but said nothing more.
Sterling’s chair
scraped against the stone floor as he twisted in his seat, uncharacteristically excited. “Wait a minute. Come to think of it, that thing’s blood tasted kind of – familiar. Almost – wait.” The chill building down my back crept further up my spine as Sterling’s eyes swiveled very, very slowly in my direction.
Everyone turned to stare at me. The room went still, and dead silent, disturbed only by the flicker and sizzle of Arachne’s magical screen.
“What? Why’s everybody looking at – oh. Oh no.”
“My sweetling,” Arachne said. “These corrupted abominations are grown from the seed of your very blood.”
I started to chuckle. “Haha. Real funny. Ha. Right? Guys?” No one was joining in. “Uh, guys?”
“What Arachne says points to a very real possibility,” Carver said slowly. “This isn’t the first I’ve heard of this. But to produce so many at such a rapid pace?”
Sterling clucked his tongue. Gil helpfully avoided my gaze. Mama Rosa made the sign of the cross, muttering something I couldn’t understand. And Asher kept slurping.
“I leave you to discuss this among yourselves. It is a busy time for Arachne. So many places to be, people to eat.”
“I, uh. Thank you, Arachne,” I said.
“Think nothing of it, sweetling. At least until the next time we meet. Remember. From this point forth, Dustin Graves will always pay the fullest price.”
She giggled to herself, vanishing from the screen as if she had stepped away from an arcane webcam. Then the web disintegrated, collapsing into a tangle of dust and loose silk. The secret-spider glimmered again as it climbed into a corner cabinet, then disappeared.
“Wow,” Gil said. “Handy trick she’s got there.”
Carver nodded. “Arachne is a powerful ally. How she’s able to penetrate our domicile is anyone’s guess, but Dustin should be thankful for her aid.”
Mama Rosa swatted at me with a rolled-up newspaper.
“Ow, geez, hey.” Where did she even get that?
“No pets. Was that your pet? No pets, especially insects.”
“Well technically that was an arachnid, and – hey, ouch, quit it.”
“Don’t care. I don’t like pets. Mr. Carver doesn’t like pets. Please.”
“Technically that is correct. But there’s no need to be upset, Mama Rosa. Dustin speaks the truth. That was simply an entity delivering a message.”
“It’s homunculi, isn’t it?” Sterling cut in, with what I thought was an unnecessary amount of enthusiasm. “Everything she said totally points to homunculi.”
“I’m afraid you’re correct,” Carver said. “It appears that the doppelgangers were taken from the same source. These are not creatures that have existed for ages. It is not a race of changelings or a huddle of mages with access to glamours. What we have here is an infestation of homunculi.”
I cleared my throat. “You guys keep throwing that word around like it’s common knowledge. What is a homunculi?”
Carver folded his hands together, setting them down in front of him on the kitchen table. I was in for a lengthy lecture. “Homunculi is the pluralized version of the term. The word you are looking for is homunculus. It’s the name given to a creation made from a union of sorcerous and alchemical talent, one that results in a servant that, while capable of independent thought, is totally loyal to its master.”
“And the main ingredient,” Sterling said, “is usually blood.”
Carver nodded. “That is correct. Though it isn’t unusual to hear of alchemical recipes where the base is generated from human feces, or even semen. Normally homunculi are very small, the way you might see imps or other minor demons, but whoever is generating these clones of yours has found some method of making them human in size.”
“Small?” Mama Rosa glowered, then crossed herself again. “Dios mio. I have heard of these things. We have them in the Philippines. They belong to people with bad magic. We call them tiyanak.”
Asher blinked, then set his down spoon for the first time. “Hey, I’ve actually heard of those. Mom used to scare me with those stories when I was a kid. You mean to say she was right?”
“Of course,” Rosa bellowed. “Mothers are always right. It is terrible how they make them. You take an aborted fetus, then you put it in a jar. And you give it a drop of blood every night. And when a whole month has passed – ”
Mama Rosa shuddered. It was a strange sight, because I’d never thought her capable of being frightened of anything. And that, naturally, gave me more cause for concern.
“Indeed,” Carver said. “After a month, the being comes to life to do your bidding. It is very similar to another version of these strange creatures, called the toyol, from your neighboring Malaysia. Interesting, isn’t it, how stories and myths can cross oceans and continents? But as I said, there are many ways to generate homunculi, and whoever has created your copies, Dustin, has found an exemplary manner of doing so.”
Then all of those doppelgangers, all my clones had come from the same source. That shouldn’t have been at all surprising. They had the same objective, after all, of stealing magical items. The Heartstopper, Madam Chien’s jade peach, the Null Dagger – it didn’t matter what they went for, did it?
“I think it’s safe to say that Thea is behind this,” I said. “But why is she sending all of these creatures out to steal artifacts? And how did she get my blood?”
Carver stroked his chin. “It’s possible that she kept a sample when she first sacrificed you. But the more likely possibility is that she collected one during your last encounter. When you fought Thea, did she cut you at all? Think.”
I stared off into empty space as my mind ticked through our last battle. “She did. She slashed me with her talons. You don’t mean to say that she managed to keep enough of my blood just from one cut?”
“The woman is a powerful sorceress and an accomplished enchantress. To say that she also has a firm grasp on alchemy wouldn’t be a stretch. She didn’t need much of your blood to work with. Whatever she harvested from you that one night was more than enough. As for why she’s stealing artifacts – that remains a mystery. Sterling?”
Sterling grunted.
“Perhaps you could speak with Diaz.”
“Are we talking about the blood witch?” I said. “The one who sent two vampires to corner me in a dark alley?” I frowned a little, remembering that I still hadn’t managed to make time for a burger.
“I would be quite upset if someone stole my enchantments as well,” Carver said, “but I confess that Diaz’s actions were somewhat rash. I am unable to locate Thea because of her cloaking mechanisms, but perhaps Diaz has his own way of tracing the homunculi back to their point of origin.”
“Or,” Sterling said, grinning, “or, we could start from the source.” He winked at me. “I might be able to track them down. But I’d need another taste to be sure.”
“Sterling,” I groaned. “No. Stop.”
“You’re right,” Sterling said, rising from the table, stretching his limbs and yawning, like a cat. “We may as well go with someone who knows his stuff. Let me take a nap, then I’ll contact Diaz for a meeting.”
“Dustin should come,” Carver added.
“Oh. I should? Yay.”
Sterling chuckled. “It’ll be fun. Diaz is okay. The twelve vampires he lives with, though? Not so much.”
My eyes went straight for the pantry, where we kept all the garlic. If only they were afraid of the stuff.
I pulled out my phone, wondering where in Valero I could go to buy myself a stake. Just – just in case.
Chapter 15
“So you cleared this with Carver, right?”
I sipped on my latte, eyeing Herald with a little more guilt than I’d intended to show.
“Um, yeah. Sure. Sure I did.”
Herald nudged his glasses up his nose, fixing me with a quick scowl before turning his attention back to the road. “You’re a terrible liar, Graves.”
“Actually I�
��m usually really good at it. You just happen to be really good at sniffing me out.”
“What a pair we make,” Herald muttered. I could hear his eyes rolling. “But seriously. This sounds like the exact kind of thing Carver would have your head for.”
This was true. Sterling said he needed a nap, and besides, he hadn’t clarified whether we were going to see Diaz that very same day, so I made plans. It had taken some hemming and hawing on my part, but after hours of pacing back and forth in my bedroom I finally gathered up the balls to pick up the phone and call Herald. And even then we had to swing by for coffees to help settle my jitters. I realize that sounds totally counterintuitive, but just go with it.
I told him I would pay him back for the car rental. I guess I could have gone on my own, but I didn’t know how to drive. Okay, fine, I do, but I was too anxious to do it. Plus the destination was on the edge of town, and unfamiliar to me. I didn’t want to go it on my own.
I hear you, okay? Yes, I could have taken a rideshare. Enough already. Maybe I was nervous. I hadn’t seen my dad in ages, and I needed the moral support.
A stupid idea, you say? Totally. Sure. For the record, you and Herald are on the same page. But I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Arachne had given me his address. I’d been through more life-threatening scrapes in the past few months than I have in my entire existence. And I knew that the danger was only going to amp up.
Some sinister shit was going on behind this whole homunculus business, and someone was going to get hurt real bad. I wanted to see my dad just in case. It’d be the first time in a long while. If things went truly horribly for me somehow, between the meeting with Diaz’s vampires and the unknowable threat of the doppelgangers, it might even be the last.
“Carver doesn’t have to find out, okay? And he won’t. Not unless you rat me out to him.”
“I won’t,” Herald harrumphed. “It’s not like we’re hanging in some secret group chat together. What, I’ll be like, ‘Hey Carver, your boy Dustin is out here making awesome life choices again.’”