Hex and the City

by Simon R. Green

  I ignored him, concentrating on Lilith. “According to the stories, after you were expelled from Eden you went down into Hell, where you coupled with demons and gave birth to all the monsters that have plagued the world.”

  “I was young,” said Lilith. “You know how it is. We all do things we later regret, when we’re being rebellious teenagers. Anyway, I got over that phase, and after travelling extensively through the many levels of reality, seeing the sights and working out my options, I finally ended up in the world of men. Not that men had made much of an impression on the place, in those days. Beings and Forces still walked freely, and a new legend was born every minute. I created the Nightside, a world within a world, in a place the Romans would later name Londinium. Interesting people, the Romans. A very savage form of civilisation. Some of them worshipped me, and I let them.

  “Now pay attention, John, because this is the important bit. The Nightside was created and designed to be the one place on Earth where Heaven and Hell could not interfere or intimidate. A place set apart from the ordained war between Good and Evil. An alternative way to live. The only truly free place on Earth. It didn’t turn out the way I expected, but then, that’s life for you.

  “Creating the Nightside, on Earth but not of it, stable but entirely separate, seriously weakened me. My power was much diminished, and the rising major players of that time, some human but mostly not, seized the opportunity to band together and thrust me back out of this reality, and into Limbo. So that they could be truly free, even from my intentions. I don’t bear them any malice. Not really. I’ve outlived nearly all of them. And Limbo wasn’t the worst place to be exiled to. Limbo is a place, or not-place, where things only exist in potential. Ideas without form.”

  “Like the Primal?” I said, just to show I was paying attention.

  “Oh, please. They’re just chalk-drawings, compared to me. But as an idea without shape or form, I was helpless to do anything. I was trapped in Limbo, unable to open a door into any other realm. Until someone here created an opening I could use. They were trying to incarnate a female principle into physical existence, a part of the Babalon Working, and it was easy for me to push the Transient Being aside and imprint myself upon the summoning. Someone in that group hadn’t done his homework properly. He’d left all kinds of openings for a determined mind to take advantage of. And once I’d left Limbo behind, they couldn’t keep me out. All the Powers and Dominations that ever were couldn’t have stopped me then.

  “I came through, decanted myself into the idealised body I found waiting in their minds, then disappeared, losing myself in the Nightside. Partly because I wanted to walk incognito to see how much things had changed in my absence, and partly to conceal myself from any of my old enemies who might have survived. I was still vulnerable, then. I needed to rebuild my power in peace. After some time, when I was myself again, I chose one of my unwitting summoners, who seemed to have grasped a little of the truth, and—disguised as the woman Fennella Davis—I made a child with him. The child rooted me in this reality, so that I could never be forced out again. I hadn’t planned to stick around afterwards, but you were so fascinating, John…I’d never had a human child before. Flesh of my flesh, spirit of my spirit…I was curious to see how you’d turn out. And I enjoyed playing human. Being mother. Carrying out the role I had originally been intended for…

  “And then Charles found out. Somebody told him; I never did discover who. But it meant I had to disappear again, back into the more secret depths of the Nightside, so that no-one would ever guess your true identity, your true nature and purpose. If any of the day’s major players had even suspected, they would have been lining up to kill you, for any number of reasons. I knew Charles wouldn’t talk. If anyone ever suspected he was responsible for bringing back Lilith, the manner of his death would have been legendary, even in the Nightside. And, of course, he still believed his research would uncover a way to banish me again. He couldn’t talk to his old friend Henry, by then so highly placed in the Authorities, and he wouldn’t talk to his old friend Mark, who had been the Collector, because Mark had found Fennella Davis in the first place. Charles was alone. He couldn’t trust anyone any more. Not even his young son. Poor Charles.

  “I never did find out who told him. But whoever it was, they never talked either. Perhaps because they knew what I would do to them, the moment they revealed themselves.

  “Now my power is back. The stars have come round again, and all the most dangerous Powers and Forces in the Nightside have been nicely weakened by the angel war. I knew causing the Unholy Grail to be brought to the Nightside would shake things up. The time is right for me to remake and refashion the Nightside into what I always intended it to be. Something much…purer in concept. A great many people will undoubtedly die in the process, yes, but you can’t make an omelette without beating hell out of the eggs.”

  She smiled around at all of us, inviting comment. And all I could think of was the awful dead landscape I’d walked through in the Timeslip. Was that her idea of a purer concept? Or did it mean that something was going to go horribly wrong with her plans? That the Powers and the Dominations of the Nightside would go to war with her, to preserve their vision of the Nightside, and everyone would lose?

  “No,” I said, and everyone looked at me. Even I could hear the coldness in my voice. I met Lilith’s dark gaze as steadily as I could. “I can’t let you do that, Lilith. I’ve seen the world that’s coming, because of you and me, and I’ll see us both dead and gone before I’ll ever let that happen.”

  Lilith shook her head. “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth…”

  “And the fruit never falls far from the tree,” said a familiar voice.

  We all looked round, startled, as Walker unhurriedly descended the metal stairs into the bar. He still looked every inch the city gent, calm and unruffled. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, smiled at us all, and raised his bowler hat politely to Lilith.

  “Doesn’t anybody ever bother to knock any more?” Alex said bitterly. “That’s it; I’m putting in barbed wire and anti-personnel hexes.”

  “You didn’t really think the Lord of Thorns would fool me for long, did you?” said Walker, looking only at me. “Not when we have such urgent business to discuss.”

  “You’re very brave to come in here alone,” I said. “How does it feel, Henry, to be faced with a whole bunch of people you can’t control with your famous Voice?”

  Walker just smiled. “That’s why I brought reinforcements, John.”

  And that was when a whole army of people came clattering down the metal steps to back up Walker. They fanned out on either side of him, taking up half the bar. I recognised some of the combat magicians, but there were a hell of a lot more of them now, all looking grim and determined and ready for action. These were professional fighters, cold-hearted killers, the kind the Authorities send out when they don’t want anything left behind but scorched earth. But it was the last two to enter the bar who really caught my attention.

  Bad Penny descended the stairway with her head held high, like a member of the Royal Family visiting an abattoir. She flashed me a brief, vicious smile. And right behind her came Pew, my old enemy Pew, tall and broad-shouldered, a soldier of Christ in his usual battered grey cloak over his vicar’s outfit, a mane of long grey hair and a simple grey cloth hiding his blind eyes. Descending confidently and valourously into a world of sin, having already made a deal with the devil called Walker. Pew turned his great blocky head in my direction and nodded slowly, armoured in his cold and brutal faith.

  “I apologise for the small turn-out,” murmured Walker, brushing an invisible bit of lint from his immaculate sleeve, “But most of my people are currently earning their money for a change, by keeping the Lord of Thorns occupied so he won’t interfere here and save your worthless souls. I’m afraid this is the end of the road, Taylor. You can’t say I haven’t given you every chance, since you returned. But now the Authorities want you and everyone
else here dead, for the sin of making a bloody nuisance of yourselves.” He paused then, looking at Lilith. “Fennella…my oldest sin, come back to haunt me. I shall enjoy seeing you destroyed.”

  “Poor Henry,” said Lilith. “Always putting your money on the wrong dream.”

  I ignored them both, looking at Pew. He felt my gaze and stirred uneasily, one hand rising to his white collar. And then he squared his broad shoulders defiantly, his mouth hard and unyielding, and I knew nothing I could say would change his mind. I still had to try.

  “Hello, Pew. I thought you didn’t set foot in dens of iniquity like this.”

  “My business is with sinners, so I must go where the sin is,” Pew said roughly. “Time to pay the piper, John, and make your peace with God.”

  “Are you really here to kill me at last, Pew?”

  “Yes. I will save your soul, if I can. For old times’ sake.”

  “My mother is here,” I said. “Do you know my mother, Pew?”

  “Of course. I’ve always known. I told you I gave up my eyes for wisdom. I was the one who told your father who and what he was married to. I still had faith you could be saved, then.”

  Cold anger pushed aside the shock of what I was hearing. “You told him? You broke up my family! You destroyed my life!”

  “You should never have been born, John. Abomination.” His voice was almost kindly now. “I should have killed you long ago, and now I pay for the weakness of my resolve with the pain I will feel for killing…such a worthy adversary.”

  “You will not touch my son, preacher,” said Lilith.

  Pew’s head snapped round in her direction, and he stabbed a finger right at her before launching into a long, angry incantation. I recognised some of it, from old parchments and forbidden books. It was an exorcism, and a very old one, in Aramaic and Latin and corrupt Coptic. The old words hammered on the air, full of significance and power, and Lilith laughed at them. Pew broke off, confused.

  “I know that song,” said Lilith. “It’s the exorcism the Christ used against the possessors called Legion, who ended up in the Gadarene swine. But I am much older than that, and such bindings have no power over me.”

  “You cannot stand against me!” said Pew, almost spitting out the words. “I speak for God!”

  “We never got on,” said Lilith.

  She gestured almost negligently with one hand, and Pew was thrown the whole width of the bar, hurtling ungainly through the air to smash into the far stone wall with sickening force. We all heard his bones break. Blood flew from his mouth. He slid down the wall and curled up on the floor, twitching spasmodically. Lilith laughed, a brief, happy sound like water splashing in a fountain. I ran over to Pew, knelt beside him, and cradled him in my arms. There is no-one closer than friends or family, except perhaps an enemy you’ve known all your life. I cradled his noble head on my chest, and blood spilled out of his mouth to stain my white trench coat. His grey blindfold had come loose, revealing dark empty eye-sockets. His breathing was harsh and uneven, spraying the air with blood from deep in his lungs.

  “John?” he said.

  “Hush, Pew. I’m here. I’m here.”

  “Pride. The sin of pride. I really thought I could take her.”

  “Hush.”

  “I should have killed you long ago.”

  “I know.”

  “But you were a child, and I thought you could be saved. And later, I saw you trying so hard to be a good man, and I doubted. When you left the Nightside, I thought perhaps it was a sign. I wanted to believe that. And then you came back. Why did you have to come back, John?”

  “Hush, Pew.”

  “Always knew you’d be the death of me. I wish…I could have brought you to see the Light. It really is so…glorious…”

  I glared at Lilith. “Do something. Save him! He’s a good man, and he doesn’t deserve to die like this!”

  “You must learn to be strong, John,” said Lilith. “To be able to do what’s necessary.”

  I would have shouted at her, begged and threatened and promised her anything, but Pew had stopped breathing. “You didn’t have to kill him,” I said. “It wasn’t necessary.”

  “I will decide what is necessary,” said Lilith. “You must forget these old restrictive ideas of Good and Evil. The only real good is what serves the Nightside, the only real evil that which opposes its best interests. Come with me, my son, and I will teach you many things.”

  And then Walker’s people responded to some unseen signal from him, and launched their attack, focussing their destructive magics on Sinner and Pretty Poison. The combat magicians waved their hands around, shouting their Words of Power, brandishing magic amulets and wands and pointing-bones, and powerful energies crackled on the air. Tables and chairs exploded, but Sinner and Pretty Poison stood firm. Alex quickly disappeared behind the bar, head well down, dragging Madman along with him. I could hear him shouting something about Merlin’s defences kicking in anytime soon, but I knew better. Walker was the Voice of the Authorities, and Merlin…was just a dead sorcerer. While he was sleeping.

  Walker and Lilith looked at each other, ignoring the chaos around them.

  I laid Pew’s body carefully on the floor and moved the grey cloth back to cover his empty eyes. I raised my head and yelled out to Alex.

  “Any chance you could get Merlin to manifest again?”

  “And make things even worse?” said Alex, without raising his head above the bar. “I think we should wait until we’re really desperate.”

  “Personally, I think we passed desperate some time back,” said Madman.

  I could barely hear them above the roar of discharging magics. Sinner was standing in front of Pretty Poison, protecting her with his invulnerable body. At first the magical attacks couldn’t seem to find him, exploding everywhere except where he stood, doing great damage to the bar and its furnishings, but not much else. But the sheer amount of power amassed against Sinner overwhelmed even his innate condition, and the attacks began to strike home. Bullets from specially blessed and cursed guns slammed into his chest, and though no blood flowed, the holes in his chest did not heal or close. Curses burned his flesh and cracked his bones. Elemental forces ripped and tore at him, and one eye exploded messily in his head. Sinner made no move to attack those who were trying to kill him. For all his dubious history, he’d never learned to hate anyone. I don’t think he had it in him. He just stood his ground, standing firm against everything anyone could throw at him, refusing to go down, refusing to allow Pretty Poison to be hurt.

  None of the magics went anywhere near Lilith.

  And while I was watching all this and trying to decide what to do for the best, Bad Penny took advantage of my distraction. She used her ability to turn up unexpectedly, appeared out of nowhere behind me, and stuck a knife in my back. Some instinct warned me at the very last moment, and I twisted aside, but the long blade still sank deep into my back, jarring against my spine. I lashed out with one arm, throwing Penny backwards, and then the pain paralysed me, screaming through my lower back. I dropped to my knees, panting for breath, my head reeling. I gritted my teeth and clung grimly onto consciousness, forcing my thoughts to make sense. There didn’t seem to be any blood in my mouth, so hopefully Penny had missed the lung. The pain was bad, but it was bearable. I reached slowly round with one hand, crying out at the pain, trying to get hold of the knife hilt, but it was out of reach. So, leave it where it was and worry about it later.

  I forced myself up onto my feet again, sweat dripping from my face at the effort, and Penny swore and stamped her foot angrily as she saw she hadn’t finished me off after all. She started forward, another knife in her hand, and then our eyes met, and we both hesitated for a moment. I didn’t really know her. We’d worked a few cases together, been to bed a few times, but we’d never been close. And right then, I don’t think it would have mattered even if we had been. She was ready to kill me. I could see it in her eyes and in her cold, nasty smile. And I was s
o angry at Pew’s death and needed someone to take it out on.

  She came at me with the other knife, and I reached deep inside myself, powered up my gift, opened up my third eye, and found within Bad Penny the magic that allowed her always to turn up unexpectedly. And it was the easiest thing in the world for me to shut down that magic and rip it right out of her, taking away her ability to turn up anywhere at all. She looked at me with horror as she lost her grip on the world and faded slowly and silently away, never to return.

  I waved good-bye. I don’t think I smiled. I don’t like to think I might have smiled.

  But in using my gift, I had made myself vulnerable to my enemies. They found me almost immediately, and sent their new weapon after me, punching right through the bar’s defences. Bright actinic energies flared, sharp and powerful, dazzling as the sun. Everyone cried out and fell back, except for Lilith. All hostilities paused, as the terrible thing that had been haunting me so remorselessly materialised. The terrible light faded away, revealing the awful weapon my enemies had sent to kill me.

  It was Shotgun Suzie.

  She looked older, hard-used, and horribly disfigured. Her long straggly hair was white, streaked with grey and packed dirt. Inside her torn and battered leathers she was painfully thin, but she burned with a fierce unnatural energy. Her presence crackled on the air, dominating the scene, like Death herself come walking among mortals. Her gaze was cold and implacable. Half her face had been burned away, long ago; the skin was blackened and crisped and twisted around the seared-shut eye. One side of her mouth was twisted up into a permanent caustic smile.

  But that wasn’t the worst thing. Her right forearm was gone, stopped at the elbow. In its place someone had fitted the Speaking Gun. A weapon originally designed to kill angels. It had been refashioned from the last time I saw it, from a handgun to a shotgun, but it was still the ugliest, vilest weapon I had ever seen. It was made of meat, of flesh and bone, held together with dark-veined gristle and shards of cartilage, bound with long strips of pale skin. The long handle was discoloured bone, plugged clumsily into what was left of her elbow. Thick fleshy cables rose up out of the stock of the Gun and plunged into her upper arm. The red meat of the elongated barrels glistened wetly, and the strands of skin had a hot, sweaty look.