"Lots of things you don't know about me, Deathstalker."
"That's true. Where's Silver?"
"Out in the streets somewhere. Fighting for his city. I'd never have pegged him for a hero, but it just goes to show how you can be wrong about people."
"Well," said Owen. "None of us are perfect."
It was as close to an apology and a reconciliation as they were going to get, and they both knew it, so they moved on to other things.
"You know," said Hazel, as they headed for the door, "this could happen again, if you use the boost too much."
Owen shrugged. "I've been doing what's needed. The boost makes it possible for me to do what I have to."
"I know how that feels," said Hazel. "Blood does the same thing for me."
They stepped out into the hallway and looked at each other. Finally Owen smiled slightly. "Guess it takes one addict to recognize another. Now let's go down and play the hero one more time, and pray the poor bastards depending on us never find out about our feet of clay. You're a good friend, Hazel. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Don't push it, aristo," said Hazel d'Ark, smiling despite herself. And they went down the stairs together, leaning on each other just a little.
Down in the bar they found the whole room cleared of customers, not to mention furniture. The chairs had all been pushed up against the walls, so that the city Councillors could crowd round a large circular table in the middle of the room. They were studying a map of the city and arguing loudly, with much gesturing of the hands. People were darting in and out the front door all the time, bringing in computer terminals, monitor screens and other useful equipment from Tech Quarter. Runners came and went with up-to-date information, pausing only briefly before rushing out into the night again. With the comm systems down, they had to be the Council's eyes and ears in the city. Luckily, people in Mistport were used to improvising.
The proprietor of the Blackthorn Inn watched the chaos from behind the safety of the long wooden bar at the end of the room. Cyder had a quick smile that didn't always reach her cold blue eyes, and thin scars crossed one side of her face like worry lines. She used to be the hardest-working and hardest-hearted fence in all Mistport, but was now a highly respectable citizen, owner of a popular and thriving tavern, and according to her old friend Silver, just possibly in line for Council membership. Only in Mistport, Owen had said. Don't you believe it, said Hazel.
Beside Cyder, nursing a mulled ale, stood the young man called Cat—Cyder's sidekick, lover, and occasional fall guy. Cyder wasn't known for being sentimental. Cat had pale youthful features, dominated by dark watchful eyes and pockmarks that tattooed both cheeks. He wore a white thermal outfit that enabled him to hide in the snow and the mists with equal dexterity. Tall and slender. Cat was a deaf mute, and quite possibly the best burglar in the city. He was supposedly retired, now that Cyder had the means to keep him, but roof runners of his quality were always in demand, and he liked to keep busy.
Owen and Hazel moved over to the bar, and Cyder scowled at them both. "I don't know why I let you in here. Every time you barge into my life, everything goes to hell in a handcart and my tavern gets trashed. I'd take out insurance against you, if I could find anyone dumb enough to underwrite the policy. Just look what's happening now! I'm a spectator in my own tavern! I was making good money till the Council threw my customers out, and they're too busy to drink much themselves. Who's going to pay for my loss of custom?"
"Relax," said Owen. "I have some associates in the city who'll be only too pleased to make good your losses. Well, actually they won't be too pleased at all, but they'll still do it. Because they know I'll cut them off at the knees if they don't. Possibly quite literally."
"So, what's happening here?" said Hazel, after she and Cyder had embraced briefly across the bar and kissed the air near each other's cheeks.
"We happy few are organizing the resistance," said Cyder, pouring herself a very large drink. "Until the Empire finds us. That should take a while. Officially, only the Council members themselves were supposed to know about this. But they're having to call in more and more people to help them, and someone will talk eventually. Someone always does. In the meantime, the Council is doing its best to coordinate resistance, and minimize the damage and loss of life."
Steel finally noticed Owen and Hazel's arrival, and beckoned for them to join him. He introduced them to the other Councillors, who looked decidedly unimpressed, so Owen decided not to be impressed by them either. It wasn't difficult. Donald Royal was there, looking frail but determined, accompanied by his partner Madelaine Skye and Young Jack Random. Quentin McVey represented the Guilds. He dressed like a color-blind peacock with absolutely no taste, and had the most false-looking false teeth Owen had ever seen. Albert Magnus represented the Merchants. He dressed in dusty grey, a perfect match for his face, and generally looked like he'd died and then been dug up again quite recently. Louis Barren spoke for Thieves Quarter, a short and compact woman who looked tough enough to chew up a tin can and split nails. She had a bone-crushing handshake, too. Owen did his best not to wince. Finally, Iain Castle represented Tech Quarter. He was a dwarf with a crooked shoulder, and looked like he had absolutely no sense of humor about it.
The Council took it in turns to give Owen funny looks, and after catching sight of himself in the mirror behind the bar, Owen could understand why. He was covered in dried blood and puke, and his clothes looked as though someone had died in them. His face was deathly pale, and his eyes were so deep-set it was a wonder he could see out of them. All in all, Owen decided he looked rather like some homicidal holy man who'd finally discovered the real meaning of life, and was thoroughly pissed off about it. Hazel looked like a barroom brawler, but then, she always did.
Quentin McVey was the first to speak. He screwed a monocle into his left eye and looked Owen up and down. "Have this boy washed and sent to my room."
"Forget it," Owen said amiably. "You couldn't afford me."
"You always did have a thing for rough trade, Quentin," said Lois Barron. "But this is slumming, even for you. Dear God, this disreputable-looking pair are supposed to be our contacts with the Golgotha underground? They're a disgrace. If they turned up at my front door, I'd set the dogs on them."
"Right," said Magnus. "Get them out of here. We've got work to do. If Golgotha wants to be taken seriously here, they'll have to send us better than this."
"Kick them out," said Iain Castle, the dwarf. "We don't have time for this."
Owen and Hazel reached out mentally to each other, and linked. Power shot back and forth between them, building and building. Their presence was suddenly overwhelming, filling the room from wall to wall, drawing all eyes to them. They were wild and powerful, so wildly potent as to seem almost inhuman, or more than human. Their power hammered on the air like a giant heartbeat, vast and overpowering. The Councillors would have liked to run, or kneel, but they were held where they were, like mice before a snake. New energy flooded through Owen and Hazel, washing away all weaknesses and impurities. Hazel's Blood use had kept them from linking for so long that they had forgotten how powerful they were when joined.
"Cut it out," said Cyder, forcing out the words despite the awe that pressed her back against the far wall. "We're impressed, honest. Now shut it down, before the Empire espers pick up on it."
Owen and Hazel reigned back on their link, internalizing their power, and suddenly they were just a man and a woman again. Owen could hardly believe that just a few minutes ago he'd thought he was close to death. Now, with Hazel at his side, he felt he could take on an army. It seemed there was still a lot about what the Maze had done to them that they didn't understand.
"Relax," Hazel said calmly to the Council. "I don't think any esper could pick us up. Whatever it is that powers us, I don't think it's esp."
The Council members looked at each other, and if anything looked even more upset than before, and Owen suddenly realized that for the moment they were
just as frightened of him and Hazel as they were of the invaders. At least the Empire was a known threat. He stepped forward, hands raised reassuringly, and tried not to notice when they all flinched and drew back from him.
"Take it easy, people. We're here to help. This is your city; you tell us how best we can help you defend it."
Donald Royal stepped suddenly forward to stare into Owen's face. His gaze was firm and steady. "Yes, you're a Deathstalker, all right. I can see it in your eyes. Damn, it's good to have a Deathstalker with us again. Your Family always did have a talent for stirring things up. I knew your father and your grandfather, boy. Good men, both of them, in their different ways. When all this is over, I'll tell you some stories about them that you probably won't find in your Family records. It's good to see you here, maintaining your Clan's traditions."
"Leave the old-times shit for later," said Castle. "What kind of help are you offering us, Deathstalker? Going to walk out into the streets and awe the Empire troops to death, are you? You might have esp or juju coming out your ears, but that won't stop an invading army. Surely Golgotha didn't just send us the pair of you and their best wishes? We need guns, explosives, equipment."
"We brought a ship full of projectile weapons and crates of ammunition," said Owen calmly. "They should be being distributed even as we speak. That's it."
"Projectile weapons?" said Magnus. "What use are bloody antiques against gravity barges with disrupter cannon?"
"You'd be surprised," said Hazel. "Besides, you've got me and Owen. We're an army in our own right."
"Oh wonderful," said Lois Barron. "An ex-aristo and an ex-pirate with overblown esp and delusions of grandeur. Like we haven't got enough of those already. Why don't we all just shoot ourselves now, and get it over with?"
"If you don't stop whining, I'll shoot you myself," snapped Royal. "These two are different. You felt their power."
"Oh, we're different, all right," said Owen.
"That's for sure," said Hazel. "And there's always Jenny Psycho. Wherever she is."
"I don't think we need to tell the Council about her yet," said Owen. "They'd only worry."
"And if you find those two disturbing, there's always me," said Young Jack Random.
Everyone turned to look at him. He'd been quiet for so long that everyone had forgotten he was there. It quickly became clear that the Council found his tall muscular frame and handsome face much more satisfying than Hazel and Owen.
"And who the hell are you?" said Castle, climbing onto a stool to get a better look over people's heads.
"I know the face," said McVey. "I'm sure I know the face."
Donald Royal smiled. "Allow me to present my good old friend, the one and only Jack Random."
The Council gaped soundlessly for a moment, then left the table en masse to crowd around Random, pumping his hand and slapping him on the back, and saying how delighted they were that he'd come to save them in their hour of need. Random smiled and nodded modestly, looking every inch a hero and a legend born. Owen looked at Hazel.
"I may puke."
"You already did. Try not to get it all over me this time."
Eventually the Councillors got tired of telling Random what a savior he was to them, and having him modestly nod and agree, and they brought him over to the table to show him the great map of Mistport. Steel pulled Random in beside him to explain things, and Owen and Hazel pushed in on the other side, determined to not be left out of anything. Steel ignored them, concentrating on Random.
"Right, Jack, this map covers all four Quarters of the city, from boundary to boundary. The city's perimeter is defended by high stone walls, but they won't last long. They were only ever intended to keep out marauding local wildlife. A war machine will walk right through them. And of course they don't do a thing to stop gravity barges and sleds. To the north we have Merchants and Guilds Quarters, and Thieves and Tech in the south. The River Autumn runs through all of them except Tech. With our communications out, and most of the streets blocked with people and barricades, we've been using the barges on the Autumn to transfer messages and people. One of our few Emergency plans that is worth anything. Most of the rest depended on espers, and they're not part of the agenda anymore. Whatever it is the Empire's doing, it's scrambled the minds of practically anyone with even a touch of esp in them. A few of the stronger talents are holding out, but it's anyone's guess as to how long. What's left of the esper union is concentrating on combating the air invasion, but all they're doing is buying us some time. We've got runners bringing in information all the time, but by the time we get to hear about anything, it's already over. I'd kill for just one working comm system, but the runners are all we've got…"
"Not anymore," said a new voice from the tavern doorway. Everyone looked around, and there was Jenny Psycho, looking very pleased with herself, along with Chance and a dozen esper children from the Abraxus Information Center. The children were awake and more or less steady on their feet, but their eyes were wild and unsettling. A general shudder went through most of the people at the table, as they studied the insane children in their ill-fitting, grubby dressing gowns.
"All right," said Magnus, in his cold grey voice. "Who the hell are you, woman, and why have you brought these… people here?"
"I'm Jenny Psycho, last manifestation of the Mater Mundi. So watch your mouth or I'll turn you into a small hopping thing. These children are possibly the only espers left in Mistport who aren't bothered by the new Empire weapon. Possibly because they're so far out of it even under normal conditions. The rest of the children are taking up positions all over the city. They're a bit strange to work with, but once you get the hang of it you should have a working communications system again. And I am here to protect you in case the Empire works out where you are. With the Mater Mundi's power flowing through me, I'm more than a match for anything the Empire can throw at you. Now, don't you all feel so much safer?"
"You know, I'd probably feel a lot happier about all this if it wasn't coming from a woman called Jenny Psycho," said Donald Royal.
"Well done, Jenny," said Random. "I knew you'd come through for us. Now let's get these children settled, before anything else. The poor lambs look like they've come a long, hard way."
People bustled around getting the children hot drinks and blankets to lie on, while Chance hovered protectively over them, getting in the way. Jenny Psycho busied herself ordering some strange but potent cocktail at the bar. She seemed to feel that having got the children safely here, they were no longer her responsibility. As always, Jenny had her own sense of priorities, with herself at the top of the list. The children were barely settled when they all suddenly stiffened on their makeshift beds, their eyes rolled up in their heads.
"Do they often do that?" asked Lois Barren.
"Shut up," said Chance. "They're seeing something."
"They're here," said one of the children, in a calm, dreamy voice. "The wall has gone down at the southwest boundary. Imperial foot troops are streaming through. The wolves are in the fold."
"Shit!" said Steel. "I thought we had more time. Chance, how reliable are these charges of yours?"
"When it comes to seeing the present, one hundred percent. As to the future…"
"I know, I know." Steel thought furiously. "Get the runners on their feet again. I don't care how tired they are. I need them to gather reinforcements for whatever's left of the wall."
"No need to bother the runners," said Random. "Let them rest. They're exhausted. Give me some men, and I'll lead a force down to the boundary to stop the invaders."
And as quickly as that the meeting broke up into shouted plans and orders. Albert Magnus volunteered to take Random to the nearest groups of militia and city Watch, and lead them to the southwest boundary. Random clapped him on the shoulder and called him a Good Man, and the grey man almost blushed. They hurried out the door, and Owen and Hazel hurried after them. Jenny Psycho grudgingly worked with Chance to stabilize the children, and interpret
what they were seeing. She seemed to feel this was somewhat beneath her, but did it anyway to show she was a good sport.
Cyder led Cat off into a quiet corner, wrote out several messages, then sent him off to deliver them. If Empire troops were already in the city, she wanted to be sure her various properties were being well protected. Just because there was a war on, there was no need to lose track of one's priorities. Cat frowned, and then shrugged. He could never say no where Cyder was concerned. And as one of the finest burglars and roof runners in Mistport, the chances of his being detected and stopped were less than most people's. Mistport's sea of connected roofs and gables were familiar territory to him. So he smiled reassuringly at Cyder, kissed her good-bye, then again for luck, and again because he enjoyed it, and disappeared out the nearest window, up the wall, and onto the roofs, his white thermal suit blending seamlessly into the snow and fog. He had no way of knowing he would never return to the Blackthorn Inn again.
High above the world, floating in its massive tank. Legion grew stronger and flexed its mental muscles. Its powers stretched across the city of Mistport, dark and potent, messing with men's minds. Men and women fell to the ground, frothing at the mouth, driven into madness to escape the awful presence that peered out at them from within their own minds. Espers went catatonic, or mute, or writhed helplessly on their beds as their power discharged on the air around them, out of their control. Legion was abroad in the night, walking up and down in human minds and spreading horror. It was vast and powerful, and nothing could stand against it. It was Legion, and it was many in one.
John Silver fought with the others at the break in the southwest boundary wall, under Legion's continuing scream. He'd fought in so many campaigns in his previous life as a pirate, against odds of all kinds, but never anything like this. There seemed no end to the Imperial troopers as they came streaming through the huge gaps in the wall opened up by the Empire war wagons. Time had blurred into a rush of blood and pain and clashing steel, and though he stood his ground amidst the rubble of the wall and would not yield, he knew he didn't stand a chance.
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