All Those Explosions Were Someone Else's Fault

by James Alan Gardner

  Nothing in Elaine’s room leapt out at me, but I searched anyway. I grew to full size to do it—I could have relied on Spark-o-Vision, but it was more satisfying to pick things up, paw through the clothing, and toss every piece on the floor. The biggest challenge was staying on task and not ripping the clothes to shreds.

  The longer I searched Elaine’s belongings, the more I felt I was wasting my time. Why would she leave anything in her room apart from the same old, same old? Elaine had to expect investigators would go through her things—as I’ve said, the mess in the Market would have brought the Dark Guard running. The Goblin would tell all, and point toward Red Pine Villa. The Guard was guaranteed to search this room with a fine-toothed magical comb.

  Elaine would have prepared for that. She’d leave nothing in the room except what she wanted the Dark Guard to find. Even if I stumbled onto a “clue,” it would be deliberately planted—Elaine had the time, skills, and brains to avoid unintentional slip-ups.

  I was wasting my time. Wasting my time. The feeling grew overwhelming.

  DAKINI CLAIMED I HAD NO PSIONIC DEFENSES

  But within the past few hours, I’d resisted Ignorance spells cast by Nicholas and Elaine, and had seen through the Bride’s vision of “victory.” I may not have had mental shields, but I was quick to realize when something had its hooks in my brain.

  I muttered, “This is a waste of time,” and stamped out of the room in a huff. I did it while staying full size. But as soon as I got outside, I shrank to the size of a virus and flew back through the gap under the door. In my head, I counted, One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi …

  Nicholas appeared in a corner of the room. He hadn’t been hiding in shadows or behind an Ignorance spell; he’d learned his lesson and chosen flat-out invisibility. Now he looked winded, his stringy hair glistening with sweat. Perhaps going invisible demanded considerable effort—similar to holding his breath, even if Nicholas didn’t actually breathe anymore.

  I knew he could perceive me if I got too close—I’d seen that when we met near Popigai’s office. So I kept my distance but flew into his line of sight. Then I shot up to Max Zirc size and said, “Boo.”

  Nicholas could still bring out the Kimmi in me.

  HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE EVER SCARED A GHOST?

  Nicholas jumped and jerked away, backing halfway into the wall. He yelled, “Ow!” and flew forward again as if bouncing off a trampoline. He hit me square on. A moment later, we were plummeting to the floor. Being at Max Zirc size, I was still made of rock. When my head hit the hardwood, I didn’t bash out my brains; in the contest between my skull and the oak floor, my skull won.

  Don’t ask why I didn’t shrink as I fell. Usually that was my automatic reflex. This time, though … blame it on Kimmi. Always Kimmi.

  But also Nicholas. I’d already seen that his default response to being surprised was to go insubstantial. This time, though, he stayed solid and fleshy, falling flat on top of me.

  Nose to nose. With our lips almost touching. Full body, too—for once, Nicholas didn’t fade out below the waist.

  He said, “Ouch. You’re hard.”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

  Nicholas groaned and rolled off me. He lay on his back, covered his face with his hands, and groaned some more.

  I raised myself on one elbow. “What’s wrong?”

  He didn’t move. When he talked, his hands muffled his voice. “Number one,” he said, “this place has enchantments in the walls to keep out incorporeal intruders. You made me back into one; it burned my ass and threw me out like a catapult. It also screwed up my ability to go intangible. Thanks so much. Number two, I landed on a shrimpy QUILTBAG Spark who’s as hard as fucking marble…”

  “Don’t be insulting,” I said. “Marble is only 3 on the Mohs hardness scale. Zircon is over 7.”

  I saw him freeze. After a moment, he lowered his hands. His eyes were wide. He levered up on an elbow and faced me there on the floor.

  Once again, we were nose to nose. Nicholas stared, and I didn’t shy away.

  A costume and mask won’t hide a Spark’s identity if the Spark is begging to be caught.

  Nicholas said, “Kimmi?”

  I said nothing. I just waited.

  I WAS SEEING IT ALL IN THIRD PERSON

  My vision hovered outside my body, looking down on the two of us. We were so close, our faces almost touched.

  If Nicholas had been human, I would have felt the warmth of his skin and his breath on my face. But he had no warmth or breath. I felt nothing, as if I were alone in the room.

  I wondered what I’d feel if he kissed me. But he didn’t. Kimmi tingled within me, but Nicholas only saw Zircon.

  Or Kim.

  No one he wanted to kiss.

  HE PROBABLY WOULDN’T HAVE KISSED KIMMI EITHER

  She was the ex. The discard.

  Anyway, the real Nicholas was dead. This was just his ghost.

  HE ROLLED ONTO HIS BACK AGAIN AND SAID, “DAMN”

  Inside me, Kimmi seeped quietly away. Back when I was her, I’d felt so strong and bold. But Kimmi wasn’t a survivor.

  Zircons, on the other hand, endure. Not bold, but tough as hell.

  “YES, NICHOLAS,” I SAID, “I’M FINALLY IN YOUR LEAGUE”

  I got to my feet. It would have been nice to do some flashy Jackie Chan–style flip, but clambering was more my style. “You have powers. I do too. At last, a level playing field.”

  “Was that your problem?” he asked. “You thought I looked down on you because…” He didn’t finish his sentence.

  “You dumped me,” I said, “because you were going to become a Darkling and I wasn’t.”

  I wanted to say more: all the speeches Kimmi had rehearsed in the emptiness after the breakup. The things Kimmi would have said if Elaine had actually brought Nicholas to me for one last conversation. I had muttered and blurted those speeches aloud while hiking alone in the mountains. I’d actually shouted, “I loved you, damn it!” in the Valley of the Ten Peaks, half hoping I would be barraged by a thousand dramatic echoes.

  There was no echoing at all. My voice just disappeared into the empty air. At most, I scared a few tourists.

  All the hurt feelings. All the things I’d wanted to say. But what was the point of venting them now? Kimmi was gone, and good fucking riddance, right? She’d been nothing but a stopover on the road from Kimberley to Kim. My first step toward the edge of the cliff, until Nicholas and Elaine kicked me all the way over.

  I should have thanked him for that. But I didn’t. I was pissed at that “shrimpy QUILTBAG” remark.

  “LOOK,” NICHOLAS SAID, “CAN WE NOT DO THIS?”

  He started to stand, then didn’t. He just hoisted himself on one elbow to look at me. He was still completely solid—the enchantment in the wall must have really done a number on his ability to turn ghostly.

  It occurred to me that maybe Nicholas couldn’t stand. With his Darkling powers suppressed, maybe his paralysis was back. I felt a pang of pity; I wanted to help him up. But he’d hate me if I offered. Even when Nicholas had loved me, his face would turn to stone if he needed my help to do anything. He could recognize the necessity, but he would mentally shut down until the indignity was over.

  Nicholas saw the way I was looking at him. He saw my pity; I saw his anger and shame. But we had practiced denial together, and the moves came back like riding a bicycle. I turned away as if nothing were wrong. With the eyes in the back of my head, I saw him relax. Marginally.

  “No time for hashing out the past,” I said. “We have more urgent matters to deal with: Elaine and Diamond.”

  Nicholas grimaced. “What diamond?”

  “No, who Diamond. Adam Popigai is actually a Mad Genius named Diamond. Elaine may or may not know that. If she doesn’t, he’s using her, and he’ll kill her when she’s no longer needed. I’ve read about him; that’s his MO. But if Elaine does know he’s Diamond and she’s working with him anyway
… well, he’ll still likely kill her, unless he decides to let the Dark Guard do it instead.”

  Nicholas closed his eyes. He shook his head and said, “Elaine.”

  “Do you know what she’s up to?” I asked.

  “Maybe. Check the nightstand.”

  I’d already checked the nightstand. I had, after all, searched the room, even if I’d done it perfunctorily thanks to This is a waste of time being forced into my brain.

  But I went to the nightstand and saw papers I hadn’t seen before. Had Nicholas made them invisible the first time I searched? Or had he simply stopped me from noticing them?

  I hated mental powers.

  THE NEWLY REVEALED PAPERS INCLUDED A GOBLIN MARKET BROCHURE

  It was identical to the one in Popigai’s office. No surprise; still, I wished I could read the writing to see what it said about the doohickey the Widow had purchased.

  The papers also included something that resembled a wedding invitation. It was printed on expensive white card stock that glimmered in my Spark-o-Vision. The writing was done in the same incomprehensible squiggles as the Goblin’s brochure—obviously, a script that Darklings used to keep things secret. In this case, the secrecy was undermined by a map on the back of the card. An X marked a spot on the shore of Lake Huron, a couple hours northwest of Waterloo.

  I held up the card. “What’s this? And please don’t pretend you can’t read the writing.”

  “There’s a blood moon ritual,” Nicholas said. “Tonight at the height of the eclipse. All Darklings are invited.”

  “What does the ritual do?”

  “Nothing you should worry about,” he said. Of course, that worried me like hell. “The point is it’ll be another large gathering of Darklings. Like the Goblin Market.”

  “You think Diamond will attack it?”

  “It’s a similar target. The only place nearby where you’ll find a bunch of Darklings together.”

  “Really?” I said. “It’s three days before Christmas. Surely some Darkling must be holding a party in Toronto or Buffalo. Some city reasonably close.”

  Nicholas rolled his eyes. “Who spends Christmas in Toronto or Buffalo? The nearest parties tonight are in New York City. Or”—he nodded toward the card in my hand—“there.”

  “Okay.” Getting to Lake Huron was doable. Aria could fly us there in less than an hour. But I didn’t like leaving Waterloo—it didn’t feel right. “Awfully convenient,” I said, “Elaine leaving this invitation so easy to find.”

  “True,” Nicholas said. “But…” He stopped.

  “You know something you’re not saying?” I asked. “Maybe something you overheard from Elaine?”

  “Elaine is extremely private about what she does in her spare time,” Nicholas said. “But I knew she’d been hanging out with Lilith. You remember Lilith? From that party at our place?”

  “I remember,” I said.

  “She and Elaine hit it off that night. Father wasn’t pleased—he thinks Lilith is a disaster waiting to happen. So he kept an eye on her. It wasn’t difficult, considering how much Lilith likes the spotlight. When he found out Lilith and Elaine had set up a meeting in Waterloo, supposedly to shop at the Goblin Market…”

  “Your dad sent you to spy on her.”

  Nicholas nodded. “When I arrived, I kept my ear out for trouble. A few hours later, I heard about an explosion that might have killed six Darklings. I started investigating. You can fill in the rest.” He sat up straighter. “If you’re heading to Lake Huron, there’s no time to chat.”

  I looked at him hard, then laughed. “If your powers were at full strength, I bet I’d be racing out the door. But at the moment, you’re practically human, and a human I used to know well. I think you’re hiding something.”

  “Kimmi…”

  “No,” I said, “it’s Zircon.” I hit him with the full strength of my Halo.

  IT WAS A CRAPPY THING TO DO

  It wasn’t all that different from the mental powers that had been imposed on me, from the subtle attempts to influence me all the way up to forceful domination. I’m not proud of what I did to Nicholas; especially not how quickly the idea popped into my mind. What do you do when somebody’s reluctant to speak? Hammer him into submission.

  A shitty thing to do. But I did it anyway. Superhero entitlement.

  I DON’T KNOW WHAT NICHOLAS SAW WHEN I HALOED HIM

  A goddess? An ancient force of nature? Or a monster of the Light, a Darkling’s eternal enemy? Whatever he saw or felt, his powers were still at low ebb, and that included any resistance he had to my aura. He made a soft, high-pitched sound, then rolled away and tucked into a ball.

  I felt like total shit, towering over a frightened paraplegic who looked like a kid I once loved.

  I knelt quickly beside him. I wanted to hug him, but he shied away. To make myself less scary, I started to shrink. Slowly. When I got to half-size, I was apparently small enough not to be totally overwhelming. He suddenly lashed out and knocked me across the room. I stayed where I landed, not speaking, leaving him alone.

  Time passed. Thirty seconds? Suddenly he went cloudy; his powers had come back and he could turn ghostly once more. He disappeared completely for a moment, then returned, floating upright again, dwindling below the waist. The same as he’d been when I saw him in the police station. Trying to pretend nothing had changed.

  “Shit,” he said. “Did you do that for revenge?”

  “No. I don’t want to hurt you, Nicholas.”

  “Just carelessness, then.” He drifted toward me. “Not knowing your own strength?”

  I didn’t answer but grew back to Max Zirc. “I’m sorry,” I said. I wanted to add something about being new and inexperienced, but that was no excuse. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No.” His Shadow flared with fierce intensity. That really was revenge, a ghost trying to terrify me. I could feel all the horrors I’d ever run from: the dark basements, the sounds at night, the nightmares that woke me screaming. Stories I shouldn’t have read at bedtime. Movies I was too young to watch.

  If I’d been human, his Shadow would have broken me—maybe even that cliché of being scared to death. But I was a Spark in the fullness of power, too pumped with ego to feel a rational amount of fear.

  “Sorry,” I said, “I’m sorry. Sorry for what I did, and sorry I’m not as vulnerable to your Shadow as you were to my Halo. When this is over, I’ll let you punch me really hard on the arm or something. For now, just tell me what you were hiding.”

  He made a face, then sighed. “Oh, all right.”

  “MAYBE YOU DON’T FIND ME SCARY,” HE SAID, “BUT I’M ACTUALLY QUITE POWERFUL: SPHINX LEVEL”

  I knew what that meant. Nicholas himself had explained it to me when we were together.

  The Dark grow stronger as they age. A thousand-year-old Darkling is much more intimidating than a typical new convert. Being as old as the Sphinx means a Darkling is very scary indeed.

  But some new Darklings are “born old.” They emerge from the Dark Conversion with the same level of power as Darklings with much more experience. If Nicholas already matched Elders who’d been around since ancient Egypt, he was near the very top of the Dark-power pyramid.

  I wondered how that had happened. Luck? “Liminality quotient”? Or could the Elders control the Dark Conversion and give certain candidates more power than normal? If so, why Nicholas? What did the Elders have planned for him?

  I had no idea. Perhaps he was just lying to impress me.

  “IF YOU’RE SO POWERFUL, WHAT CAN YOU DO?” I ASKED

  “Serious ghostly things,” he replied. “Practically anything that ghosts can do in any story you’ve read.”

  “That’s an awful lot,” I said.

  “It is.” Nicholas tried to look matter-of-fact.

  “Why did you bring this up?” I asked.

  “I can sense ghostly afterimpressions.” He gave me a look. “Basically, I can reconstruct events from the past. I cou
ld show you if you’d let me.”

  I didn’t say yes. I didn’t say no.

  “Let’s go into that corner.” He pointed to the only corner in the room not occupied by furniture. “We’ll see everything from there.”

  I didn’t know what he had in mind, but I walked to the corner anyway.

  Consent.

  Nicholas floated toward me. He raised his hand. His fingertips reached toward my head like Spock doing a Vulcan mind-meld.

  I could think of a million reasons why this was a bad idea. Letting a Darkling inside my brain? Especially Nicholas? Did I trust him not to … well, anything from reading my most intimate secrets to turning me into his mind-slave?

  Did I trust him? Of course not. But I took off my hat and let him touch me. Because.

  HIS FINGERS DIDN’T FEEL SOLID AT ALL

  His touch was like an icy wind. Then the coldness slid into my brain.

  I watched it happen from a viewpoint outside my body. I saw his fingers go in. Then I felt them like a freezing mass of pain behind my eyes.

  My perception collapsed from 360 degrees to the intolerable tunnel vision of normal sight. Colors were replaced by shades of gray: like a black-and-white movie, except that the blacks were faded and the whites were dingy. Everything seemed less solid, almost transparent.

  Semitransparent chairs. Semitransparent Cassatt. Semitransparent bed with rumpled sheets.

  This was how Nicholas saw the world: as if everything in it were a ghost.

  I REALIZED WE WEREN’T ALONE

  Elaine Vandermeer stood in the bathroom doorway.

  Not the real Elaine: a ghostly reconstruction. But she was still real enough to make me squirm. I closed my eyes, but nothing changed. Nicholas was sending this image straight into my mind.

  Elaine wore a gray silk bathrobe, untied. She held a blow-dryer in one hand and a brush in the other. Her hair was wet.

  The sight of her nearly made me throw up: half repugnance at seeing the woman who’d hurt me, and half … well. There’s a difference between sexual attraction and the sickly urge to submit to a vampire who once bit you; it’s just hard to make that distinction when you’re dizzy with approach-avoidance. I didn’t want to have sex with Elaine, I wanted to fight her with the absolute abandon I’d used on Hannah years ago. I wanted to punch and scream and twist …