by David Finn
A phalanx of smaller craft whizzed through the air, passing through her. Her arc curved, she was over the Glass Desert. She recognised the spine-like mountain ranges, the huge, reflective deserts, the yawning gulf of mile after mile of glass and sand. She thought she glimpsed her cat, Maze, prowling through the wilderness. with a slow and steady pace.
A bright blue bay lit up her vision, fluorescent. Weight and blood came back to her. The blade lurched in her heart. She saw a casino she recognised. A section of restaurants. A ball park. Then she was crashing back down, into the high streets of Bay City, where a small black carriage marched snail-like through the expensive suburbs, pulled by an undead horse.
She woke up with a groan. Josie was grinning like a Cheshire cat, sipping on a martini. Demorn gulped down a nearby bottle of water, her eyes and sinuses aching. She looked out the window, slamming her purple glasses over her sore eyes. The cab had climbed the steep hill, up through the staggered levels of Bay City, the death carriage taking them ever higher, overlooking the vast ocean.
‘What the hell, Josephine!’
‘You’re always so keen to ask me about hell, poppet. Look at the gorgeous day out there. This isn’t hell! Not even close!’
Josephine threw back the sun roof, with her arms outstretched, breathing in the heady breeze.
‘You’re like a fucking commercial,’ Demorn muttered. ‘It’s crass.’
‘Oh come now, dear, aren’t you happy to be back?’
Demorn squeezed the ridge of her nose and the sinus pain faded. Things seemed to be coalescing in her mind.
‘Back? I’m tripping out, Josie. We were at a party, in a Dimensional Fort . . . we hadn’t met before.’
Demorn looked around at the beautiful bay, still trying to get her bearings. ‘But we were also just here, you were talking about time travel and how confusing it is.’
Josephine got back on the seat, curling her feet up. She looked younger, happier. Demorn shot her a look. ‘Which it fucking IS.’
Josephine shook her head. ‘Open your hand.’
Demorn followed instructions. In it she held the grey stone, miniaturised again.
Josephine plucked it from Demorn’s steel fist and fitted it on a small ring. ‘I gave this to you after the party, just before you left.’
Demorn nodded, hazy and unsure. Already the dream was fading. ‘Sure.’
‘And it’s how you got back here. But you didn’t have it when you climbed in the cab before, did you?’
‘How do you know?’ Demorn asked.
Josie smiled. ‘Because I was wearing it.’ She tapped her finger. ‘It was in my ring. It’s not really time travel. Not for you.’
Demorn thought about it. The clopping of hooves upon the paver stones was comforting. ‘If it’s not time travel, what is it then?’
‘An alternate path, me showing you a Parallel. Two pathways that lead to the same point. I call it spatial transportation. Our paths diverged, for just a moment. So instead of coming direct to the Bay, you attacked via the Dimensional Fort at your Baron’s request. But you found your way back here, to the same cab, drawn by the rock.’
Demorn gave her a long look through the sunglasses. Josie was unreadable, a blank slate. Demorn thought she would have more chance with a brick wall.
She said, ‘I wandered through the Glass Desert with Maze. Wolf met me on the road, as arranged. Are you trying to wipe my mind?’
Josephine shook her head. ‘No, dear. You have a brain that wouldn’t wipe easily. So much scar tissue. So much pain. But you’re Asanti born and trained, you can move between dimensions. You’re familiar with the Parallels, unlike so many.’
Demorn sighed. ‘My brain hurts, you got that right.’
The cab started to pull up. Demorn gripped Josephine’s arm as she got up to exit.
‘What about you, Josie? Was it time travel for you? What about the people hunting you? You had Hive Assassins on our tail. I know there’s an open bounty on your ass in so many cities. I don’t care if they pardoned you here.’
Josie fluttered her eyelashes. She held the ring up to the light. The diamond was tiny compared to the huge crystal which had spun over the lake but Demorn’s eyes could still see the flaws and cracks within it.
‘I’m like our universe, Demorn. Cracked to the core but alive. The Hive Assassins, persistent as they are, lose me as we escape through the cracks in the Fracture.’
Demorn said, ‘You seem awful confident.’
She twisted the ring in the sunlight. ‘They get close but I’m fast, Dee. This is one of the Wonders of the Gods. I pulled this from the same cavern where the Tyrant stole his bracelet. The same dark power lorded over it.’
The air inside the cab was freezing. Demorn’s heart went cold but she had to laugh. ‘You’re tempting fate, Josie, that’s what you’re doing.’
Josephine’s hand turned reptilian on the handle.
She said, ‘Don’t throw that name around so loosely. Fate is a stage filled with many actors, Fate is a mad party at the Court on the last day. Fate is no innocent lamb in the woods. Fate is a death bomb jerry-rigged to annihilate everything.’
Demorn’s voice was soft. ‘Maybe. I’ve seen the bones in the sky, Josie. Just like I saw them in Babelzon years ago. Only a fool would laugh at the future in front of us.’
‘Good! Then you know we need to do more if we are to survive.’ Josephine sprang up. ‘Oh look, we’re here!’
She threw the carriage door open and jumped out. Demorn followed, her boots hitting gravel. It felt good to be back on solid ground. Enough already with talking about the Parallels and extended dream sequences. They were on a carpark in front of a large warehouse. Loud music came from inside, a mix of rock and pulsating electro. The walls were spray painted with neon graffiti. A forest of roses and thorny bushes sprang onto the edges of the gravel entrance. The road led down from an arched gate off the main road. A yellow Porsche was parked haphazardly in front of the warehouse.
The undead horse snorted and shifted restlessly. Josie flicked a coin at the driver’s seat and a gloved hand caught it. The cab rolled away. Strangely, night had fallen since they passed through the gate. Stars glittered above.
Josephine gestured at Demorn. ‘Come and meet my friends, Demorn. We have a plan.’
Demorn smiled. Of course there was plan. Just like she had no doubt there was a bomb. She wondered who had designed it. And who would set it off. Demorn followed Josie into the shadows of the warehouse, toward the music which was already making her miss her Johnny Cash albums.
12
* * *
Misty and her blonde bass player lounged in front of the stage in deep chairs. Blondie looked like a junkie, barely awake. The music was never going to be Sinatra but it wasn’t so bad up close. Demorn’s heart did a little leap as Misty danced her way across, her dress riding high. She gave Demorn a tight hug. She had dark circles under her eyes that not even a thick layer of makeup could disguise. Their lips brushed each other’s cheeks. Misty smelt like intoxicating perfection.
Demorn was hopeless when it came to the ages and careers of Hollywood starlets but she could tell Misty had been through a couple of stylists since she’d seen her last. She was so thin and tanned and so desperately beautiful and hungry all at the same time. The whole look was both classy and wanton. It was the kind of thing Demorn ate up.
‘Hey, Misty.’
Misty tilted her head, icy blue eyes gone glassy. She looked like she wanted to be more in the moment than she was.
‘Hey, Demorn, it’s been too long. You’re looking great.’
Demorn chuckled. ‘Feels like yesterday to me, kid. You’re gorgeous.’
Misty shook her luscious long brunette locks. ‘Aw, you’re sweet.’
‘Is that your Porsche outside?’
Misty gave a vague grin. She batted long lashes.
‘One of my producers. We’ve been cutting a few tracks up at Century City.’
Demorn glanced at
the immobile bass player. ‘Him included?’
Misty pouted and simulated snorting a line. ‘Nah, Matt’s becoming a real bore. All product, no output. This time I’m going solo.’
Demorn was struck with sudden, unexpected compassion for Misty. She’d seen the industry chew up so many starlets. The comeback story often ended on a dark note and a down beat.
Misty smiled. Her icy eyes cleared. ‘Anyway, I’m so glad you made it out of the Fort, too. What a bad trip. I thought it was just another party not the end of the world.’
In her mind Demorn saw the men in the black suits running with their guns out. She wanted to tell herself it wasn’t real but it was.
‘What happened back there?’
Josephine cut across Misty. ‘The Dimensional Fort was infiltrated by Triton. It ended badly and the echoes linger on.’
Misty gave Demorn a final fond squeeze and drifted back to the lounge chair.
Demorn asked, ‘It was your party, Josie. Your friends. How can you not care? How can you be so blasé?’
Josephine said, ‘Oh, I care. But you didn’t know them, Demorn. I did. Across multiple worlds. That party always gets busted. It’s damned. There’s somebody in the Fort who lets the Void demons in. Maybe it’s your aging lounge act, Frank goddamn Sinatra!’
Demorn said, ‘Sinatra’s not a traitor. He’s an old friend who helped me see the danger. What about one of your people?’
Demorn remembered what a strange little group they had been. They could have been front and centre in some club in Babelzon. But in this land they were pressed to the edges. The flying woman with bat-like wings gliding across the ballroom. The whole menagerie of were-creatures, their eyes glittering with savage, alien pride. A complete sense of unreality. Demorn wondered if the newsreader with his flashing white teeth made it out with his giggling coterie of models. The list of those left behind was long and mysterious and stained with blood.
Josie grinned. ‘My “people”? Well, there’s a lot more of them to choose from. You’re a lone wolf with attitude, I’m a diplomat.’
‘So you trust them?’
‘No, but diplomacy isn’t about trust. It’s about finding the best solution in the circumstances we find ourselves in.’
Demorn yawned. ‘I feel like I’m listening to a corporate speaker. And where do we find ourselves? In a cold warehouse listening to some annoying loud music like I’m sixteen years old with issues.’
Josie indicated the room, receding into darkness at the edges. Soft lights lit up the vast room as she walked through. There were couches and sleeping bags. Demorn could see a kitchenette and rooms enclosed off. It was kind of cool, Demorn admitted to herself.
‘This whole place is a safe house, a retreat. The wards on the ancient archway are deep, almost down to Source Stone level. This place can shift, it can move. We can bunker down here for five minutes while we work out our next move.’
Demorn rolled her eyes. ‘Well, don’t run too long with the group conference. There’s a comet burning a hole in the sky.’
Josie chuckled. ‘Who says we are under that sky anymore? This is a true safe house. Attached, but detachable from Bay City. I paid a lot of favours to get on the deed.’
Demorn said, ‘You’re very clever. But people don’t trust you, Josie. You’ve got trinkets and random moves to stay ahead of the game but you leave people behind to just burn in the wind. That’s bullshit and why you got kicked out of the Court and Santos didn’t veto it.’
Josephine sighed. ‘More like he pushed for it. It’s such a shame. We were so close once.’
Demorn looked her in the eyes. ‘He pushed against your exile. Santos quite likes you. He knew you were hiding out down here amongst the thieves.’
Josephine pulled her beautiful green dress down, exposing her full breasts, bright pale in the shadows. ‘Have you come to execute me, killer? Get on with it then!’
‘He didn’t tell me to kill you, Josie. I follow my own path and I can cut whatever deal I want.’
Josie’s purple eyes glinted as she fitted herself back into the dress. ‘A deal?’
Demorn popped a mint and shrugged. These diplomats and their goddamn deals. It was exhausting.
‘Sure. If you help me, Josie, actually help me, we can make all sort of moves happen. But it’s not just about Santos trusting you. I have to feel comfortable, too.’
Demorn left it there.
‘You don’t trust me much, do you?’
Demorn smiled her scary smile. Her eyes blazed in the soft shadow. ‘I trust you as much as I trust any stranger, especially one who hasn’t paid me yet. What did Toxis want with you? She’s a true hunter, she doesn’t come sniffing for only crumbs.’
Josie smiled, playing with the light cut on her neck. ‘I have a magic bow and arrow set stashed in one of my sealed rooms. She claims it belongs to her.’
Demorn didn’t know what to say. She struggled to find words. ‘You have the bow of a Blood Huntress? Was it a gift?’
Josie shook her head. ‘No, I stole it, I’m afraid.’
Demorn laugh was laced with bitterness. ‘Then no matter what happens, you’re already dead. Toxis won’t stop until she has it back and your throat is slit.’
Josephine held her hands in supplication. Demorn didn’t know if she was supposed to take it seriously. ‘In my defence, I thought Toxis was dead. That’s what the history books all said. Sent to oblivion. Lost in your White Fort an eon ago. Sundered from her Clan and her soul mate, the Princess of the Swords.’
Demorn laughed. The armband burnt. ‘I wouldn’t sleep too deeply if I was you. Because she sure looked spritely when she was kicking your bodyguard in the face.’
Josie looked puzzled. ‘I don’t understand you, Demorn. Why can’t you tell me what happened? Why is there such mystery in dealing with you? The books showed her falling into the abyss. You don’t have anything to say about it?’
Demorn smiled at the faux level outrage. ‘Believe it or not, honey, I don’t really know or care what you’re talking about.’
‘I’m talking about your legend! It’s so well known across so many Parallels. They leave a copy in the drawers of most hotel chains, an abridged selection of prophecies and histories.’
Demorn had stayed in a lot of hotels on the tour and in the life. ‘I’ve never picked up a copy and never will. Maybe it’s the mercenary in me, but I’m a little averse to bibles in general. It all reeks of propaganda.’
Josie was curious. ‘Even your own?’
Demorn was sharp. She was tired of this bullshit. ‘I’m not a god and it wasn’t me in those old books. Just like it wasn’t Toxis. They’re a stranger’s version of what they think happened, modern day myth making. Nobody interviewed me, or asked for permission, just like nobody asked Toxis what she was feeling on the night she fell. It’s bullshit, frankly. You’re reading fiction dressed up as fact.’
Josie exclaimed, ‘I just can’t believe you don’t read the books!’
‘Well, believe it, hon. I enjoy some of the comics, they’re way more fun. Plus, they give me stunning long hair and awesome boobs in those, so what’s not to love?’
Josie shook her head in wonder, smiling in genuine amazement. ‘Has anybody ever said you can come across really shallow?’
‘Yeah, they have. And it didn’t really worry me.’
Demorn looked back at the empty stage. She could see the hulking figure of Lucas in the shadows. Misty ran up to him and gave him a big hug that descended quickly into a low key make-up session. What a group, she thought. In love with the bouncer. Destined for greatness.
‘I want to see this Aladdin cave of wonders before Toxis comes and kills you, Josie. Open up.’
Josie nodded, pulling a thin gold key from around her neck. The air shimmered in the key’s wake. Demorn could sense the warehouse had layers, space folded in upon itself. A thin outline of a door formed. Josephine inserted the key and the door opened. She walked through, gesturing for Demorn, who fol
lowed close behind her. Behind them, in the cold space, Misty took the microphone and started singing a slow number.
Part 4
1
* * *
Wolf couldn’t ignore the beep of the alarm any longer. Wolf hauled himself off the bed with a satisfied sigh. He put the watch on, quieting the noise. Iverson was all over the front screen. Winter slapped him hard on the ass, hard, laughing as he struggled to put his jeans on. She was lying back, looking so good he almost wanted to dive straight back between the sheets. Winter slowly drew the sheet up over her body, her expression as neutral and innocent as that of a church mouse.
‘I hope you had a nice massage, soldier.’
‘Thanks.’ Wolf chuckled as he splashed water over his face. ‘My shoulder feels way better.’
Winter put some on old, slow, country music. She sipped at some fancy health drink and slipped her tight body into a loose comic t-shirt. ‘Hopefully not just the shoulder.’
He did feel better, flexing his arm. Nothing but a good shave would get rid of the grey-white stubble on his dark skin, but his eyes had a sparkle and some of his endless fatigue had lifted. Winter was conversational as she flicked on a Xbox game, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Brilliant images of a fast car being chased on city streets dominated the shadowed room, lighting up her pretty Euro-Asian features.
She said, ‘It’s been awhile, soldier. Where you been?’
‘Ah, just business.’
‘Cool. Secret government business I bet!’
‘You know I can’t confirm anything.’
It was almost a child’s game, this banter between them. Somewhere early in their relationship she had guessed he was military. Considering the collection of scars and bullet marks across his body, at a certain point he had to buy into the story himself. From there, Winter liked to speculate on his role, painting him as a spy or icy assassin. They played around with these concepts.