And I’ll never forget that, you bastard.
“Roughly one week ago,” Burke said without preamble, as if everyone in the room was perfectly used to him addressing them like they were his soldiers, “an Ebon Cities spy attempted to murder me and supplant a shape-shifter in my place at Black Scar. Half of that plan succeeded.”
“Whoa,” Kane said. “Huh?”
“Just listen,” Ronan said. Kane sat down next to him.
“Why are you so ok with all of this?” Kane asked him.
“Look, I don’t trust the guy,” Ronan said. “But he knows where Danica and Cross are.”
“Danica is back in Blacksand,” Kane said.
“No, she’s not,” Burke said. “The Revengers took her so they could get their hands on your friend Eric. They want something he has.”
“And what might that be?” Ronan asked.
“We don’t know,” the woman named Turner said. “At first we thought it was so they could gain possession of the arcane blade he’d recovered, but…”
“Wait, hold on,” Kane said, and he stood back up. “How do you even know about that?”
“Come now, Michael,” Burke said. “We know a lot more than you think. In any case, that isn’t what they want.”
“Then what is?” Maur asked as he stood up. His face-wrappings were off, so his scowl was unhidden. “Maur has many questions. What is the connection between Black and Cross’s abduction and the vision that Maur and his allies had in the desert? Why have the Grey Clan allied with you?”
“And, best of all, why should we believe you, you son of a bitch?” Kane said to Burke.
Burke kept his eyes on Kane. Both of his Revengers looked at him uneasily, as did the Grey Clan. Burke smiled.
“Show them,” he told Turner.
Turner frowned as she manipulated the control stick. The air stiffened, and her eyes turned ice blue. Power dripped from her hand.
The monitor shimmered and pulsed. It became a mirror, a molten glass sheet that throbbed with the tune of a dying heartbeat. Vaporous images like smoke shadows drifted into the air and arranged themselves into three-dimensional holograms. The images folded over one another, twisted and came together in a haze of white shadows. Silhouettes fused into living beings. It wasn’t like watching them on a screen but like standing next to them, walking among them.
He’s in Black Scar.
He sees the vaulted passages and chain walkways and bloodstained halls. He hears the roar of dread furnaces. Blasts of flame drown out the cries of prisoners.
The entrances to the mines stand in the distance, past the squat cell blocks and the walking iron towers lined with motorguns and grinding saws. Prisoners walk with their heads low. Their backs strain beneath the burden of rocks and stones hauled from the red diamond mines.
Drifts of black dust fall in waves. Steam blasts into the subterranean sky and turns the walls ghastly and stark. Phosphorescent crystals glow like ghosts.
Burke is there, the false Burke. He has no scar, and he stands tall and proud. Three Revengers accompany him as he surveys the scene.
The false Burke looks at his cohorts. No words are exchanged, and yet they communicate.
The four vampires stand on a platform over the prison city. They watch the mines and the prisoners, but their thoughts are elsewhere. They think about Cross, and Danica.
The past unfolds in a flash of images and sound. Visceral emotions explode like wounds. The vampire Burke, whose real name is Krage, reflects for a moment, and the previous weeks unfurl. They expand and fill the skin of moments.
Burke, the real Burke, is telling the truth.
Krage’s mind reveals months of planning. He sees bone vehicles and flesh juggernauts poised to make a strike, a massive force assembled in the wastelands. They’re not there to attack the Southern Claw, or any human city, but something else, a remote and forgotten outpost that’s important to their plans.
The memories play on. Kane is aware of his body, tense and on edge. It pains him to sit there. His consciousness aches from viewing this.
He sees murder. Bodies flayed open and hollowed out. Vampire tanks and Razorwing fliers. Bone giants and two-dimensional skin golems. War wights in steaming armor. Vampire shock troops with curled blood blades and poison needle rifles.
Whatever it is they seek, Cross is the key to finding it. And the vampire’s enemies in the renegade necropolis of Koth want it, too. The undead nations will destroy each other trying to get it, and they’ll crush anyone who gets in their way.
It won’t be long.
Kane fell back from his vision. His stomach churned, and he almost vomited. Ronan, Maur, Jade and Sol had similar reactions. They all looked like they’d just been dropped off a cliff and then caught at the last possible moment.
Kane fell to his knees. His face touched the ground, and the concrete was cool against his burning skin. His body shook all over. After a moment, he understood why.
Dread whispers clawed through the air. They were just like the voices they’d heard in the desert before the Ebon Cities tanks had ambushed them. His head shook with pain. Blood dripped out of his eyes like tears and dribbled on the ground around his fingers.
Tortured cries, droning whines, a high-pitched screech like a thousand wailing birds.
He saw Burke mouth something, saw Turner and Marcus struggle with the control stick. Everything was slow.
He saw Ekko’s face. He knew he was about to die.
Somehow, he stood up. He stumbled forward, seized the controls from Turner, and yanked the cable out of the screen. Sparks exploded across the floor. The monitor cracked with a sound like a pressure cooker.
The screech faded, and the screams melted away. Kane’s arms still shook, but he was alive.
Everyone gasped. Ronan helped Jade to her feet. Maur and Sol were slow to stand up. Turner and Marcus looked dazed, but they weren’t as bad off as the others. Burke was shaken, but still standing.
Kane handed the ruined controls to Turner, stepped around her, and punched Burke square in the face.
“Dumbass,” he said.
Marcus pulled a gun and aimed it at the back of Kane’s head, but then he froze. Ronan had a kodachi to Marcus’s throat.
“You sure about that, tough guy?” Ronan asked in a quiet voice.
“Enough!” Burke roared. Blood ran down his nose and mouth. “Enough…God damn it, that shouldn’t have happened. The surveillance malfunctioned. Turner?”
“It worked fine the last time we used it…”
“What?” Jade demanded. “Used what?”
“Experimental technology,” Turner explained. “We call it a necroscope. It allows us to peer into the vampire collective consciousness and transform their harmful thought stream into visuals and sounds that humans can comprehend.”
“And when it breaks, it makes our brains pop,” Kane said angrily. “That’s awesome. Nice work.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Burke said. “You saw what they’re up to. Four vampires have infiltrated Black Scar. They’ve taken my place, and the place of three of my closest Wardens.”
Ronan let Marcus go. The two men sized each other up, but Turner and Jade stepped in to settle things down.
Kane returned to his seat.
“So I get the fact that your people and Koth have teamed up and are looking for something, and Cross is the key to finding it,” Kane said. “Great. And whatever it is, the Ebon Cities wants it, too. Swell. That just makes my butt pucker. The question is…what the hell is it? And what does it have to do with the beautiful people over here?”
The Grey Clan members had been largely unaffected by the malfunctioning glimpse into the vampire mind hive. They sat by, passive.
This concerns us greatly, one of them said. They spoke into Kane’s mind with his own voice, as usual.
I hate it when you guys do that.
Regardless… the voice continued. One of the entry points to the Whisperlands lies in our territory. T
hat is why the Ebon Cities came into our lands.
“Wait…the Whisperlands?” Kane asked.
“Did you hit your head or something?” Ronan asked him. Kane realized that no one aside from he and the Grey Clan could hear the entire conversation.
“That’s what Greyface over there said…”
Raal, the voice corrected.
“Ok…sorry…wait, which one are you?”
The shorter, more human Grey Clan stood up.
My companion is Mourne.
“Figures.”
“Mike…who the hell are you talking to?” Ronan asked him.
“Them.”
Ronan and Maur looked at the two Grey Clan, who menacingly looked back.
“Maur thinks Kane is crazy,” Maur said.
“You’re probably right, Bro,” Kane said. “So there’s an entrance to the Whisperlands in your territory…I’m guessing it’s near those temple ruins where the Ebon Cities bushwhacked us, right? Wait…not to sound like a moron, but what the hell are the Whisperlands?”
“One thing at a time,” Burke said. He sounded genuinely exasperated. “Let us explain.”
Kane shrugged. Jade, Ronan, Sol and Maur all sat down.
“The Whisperlands,” Turner explained, “is a transitional realm. The Black reconstructed reality, but not all of the changes – the shifting of creatures or locales, the refusing of spatial and temporal zones – was completed. Some of it’s still going on. Some of it outright failed. Some things that didn’t complete the transition between worlds still exist in exile in the Whisperlands.
“The realm is finite, but it’s larger than one might expect. It’s also just a shade of the worlds that have passed through it. Over time, any living creatures, structures, and even natural landscapes loose most of their original qualities and dissolve into darkness-infused versions of themselves. The land is literally drowning in shadow. It saturates everything.”
“This is exciting,” Sol said. “When does this fairy tale start to make sense?”
“Open your mouth again, and I’ll shut it for you,” Marcus said.
“Pretty boy, you couldn’t shut a toilet seat cover…”
“Dude, shut up!” Kane yelled. “I’m listening here!”
“There’s been a recent development.” Turner kept talking as if nobody had spoken. Kane decided he liked her, even if he only understood about half of what she was saying. “A group of mages has discovered the means to enter the Whisperlands.”
“What?” Jade asked. “How?”
“It helps to not be a mage,” Burke interjected. “Though a warlock or witch can better acclimate to the dark environ, they have a more difficult time pulling away if they ever intend to leave.”
“That’s why you didn’t send Jade with us,” Kane said. “Why not Maur?”
“Gol are arcane creatures,” Maur said. “They do not have spirits, but their bodies are powered by magic.”
“Exactly,” Burke nodded.
“And why did you send us there in the first place?” Ronan asked angrily. “We nearly died destroying that Ebon Cities murder squad and their little hidey hole.”
“There are ways to navigate the Whisperlands, if the right preparations are made,” Turner said matter-of-factly. “Because it’s a liminal zone with its own spatial rules, it’s conceivable that one can travel great distances in our world without having to travel great distances there. More importantly, the Whisperlands can be used to reach areas that are totally inaccessible on our side.”
“A shortcut,” Jade said.
“Like the portal we used to save Cross,” Ronan said. “Only not. Because travel through that gate was instantaneous.”
“Right,” Turner said. “Using the Whisperlands as a shortcut is less direct, but just as effective, provided you can survive the Whisperlands themselves.”
“Ok, ok, hold on,” Kane said. His brain ached. For some reason he was incredibly thirsty, and his gums hurt like he’d stabbed them with something. “A few things. One, what the hell is that temple thing we saw in the desert? Two, why did you have us destroy that outpost? Three, what does this have to do with Cross? Four, how are we going to get him and Dani out of Black Scar?”
The temple you saw was a remnant of our home world, Raal said into Kane’s mind. He looked around and saw surprised looks on everyone else’s faces, which meant for once the Grey Clan communicated with all of them, not just him. Our kings were barbarous beasts who worshipped creatures of the great deep. They sacrificed our people by the score. For many of us, the event that you call The Black was a blessing. It saved us. The temple of Mek’taar had been an unholy and terrible place. Its hold over us is gone, but so much magic once saturated its walls that its power has not entirely died.
“The temple is a zone of temporal instability,” Turner explained. “That’s how we managed to identify it as a breach into the Whisperlands.”
“When we learned of this Temple of Mek’taar, we contacted the Grey Clan,” Burke said. “In return for providing them with good weapons to keep themselves safe from both sides of the war, they agreed to help us navigate into the realm.”
“And I take it the Ebon Cities beat you to it?”
“That outpost you destroyed was a reconnaissance tower,” Turner said. “They actually plan to encroach at another point, because only a small number of creatures can pass through the Mek’taar portal at a time. Still, they were able to squeeze a recon patrol through, and they set up a watch post to scope out the area.”
“Why did you send us in?” Kane asked Burke angrily. “You ass.”
“Because it needed to be done,” Burke said. “I wasn’t going to ask the Grey Clan to risk themselves, and I certainly wasn’t going to send in Turner or Marcus.”
“So you dumped us in there?” Ronan growled.
“Yes,” Burke said flatly. “And you survived. And while I can understand how that might not make you feel all that happy with me, frankly I don’t care. Because if you want to save your friends you’ll need my help.”
Ronan bit his lip, but quieted. Kane shook his head.
“So what do they want?” Jade asked. “Why are both Koth and the Ebon Cities trying so hard to get in there? And why are The Revengers interested?”
“Honestly…I don’t know,” Burke said. “That was between Rake and the Grand Vizier of Koth. I do know, however, that the plan involves using Cross.”
“Why do they need Cross?” Ronan asked.
“Because you may have his body, but you don’t have his mind,” Turner explained. “He’s trapped in the Whisperlands. And both Koth and the Ebon Cities seem to think he knows exactly how to find what they’re looking for.”
“Why haven’t you made contact with your people?” Ronan asked Burke.
“We tried,” Turner answered. “But they’re rapidly approaching the final stages of their plans, so Black Scar is in full lockdown. No communication in or out. We literally have no way to reach them.”
“The best we can do now,” Burke said, “is to get to the portal to the Whisperlands before they do, expose the Ebon Cities spies, and stop them. If you manage to rescue Cross and Danica in the process…so be it. I’ll help you so far in that I’ll look the other way. We’ll consider it payment for services rendered.” He smiled. “Any questions?”
“On a scale of one to ten, how screwed do you we think we all are?” Kane asked him.
“You don’t want to know…”
They laid their rescue plans. Burke and his aides knew where The Revengers and the Kothian forces planned to breach the Whisperlands: the ruins of Voth Ra’morg, once a city-state that had been occupied by survivors and desert hunters but that had later been sacked by Vuul raiders and left abandoned. Now there was little left except a hollow shell, but there was also a means to enter the Whisperlands hidden somewhere beneath an old industrial tower right in the middle of the city. Chances were better than not that the Ebon Cities would try to use the same access point.
>
Crap, Kane thought. This is too much.
After over an hour of planning, Kane had to step away. His muscles ached from standing hunched over maps and diagrams of the area, and he was completely on edge. It didn’t matter that they had a temporary truce: he didn’t trust Burke and his crew any more than he could throw them, and he still had no reason to believe much of anything that Jade or Sol said, either.
He walked to the edge of the room and looked out through a sealed and dingy window. The gelatinous air the Grey Clan breathed back on their home world was thick outside. Debris drifted through the murk. Reptilians moved sheets of metal and tossed them into piles or placed them in the backs of heavy carts.
“Did Burke tell you what they do here?” Ronan asked. The swordsman had snuck up on him. He looked as exhausted as Kane felt.
“Yeah. They’re making ships and weapons.”
“Makes sense,” Ronan nodded. “The Ebon Cities have been pushing deeper into their territory. We saw some of what they’d done to these people on that ship full of wounded.”
“Ronan…I have a really bad feeling about this,” Kane said quietly. The others were still back in the chamber going over maps and strategy. They had very little to work with, and it was important to get every detail right. He worried about Maur being in there alone with the others, but decided he was just being paranoid. “I don’t trust them. Any of them.”
“Good. That means you’re not stupid,” Ronan said with a grim smile. With the number of scars he bore, Ronan almost looked like a movie monster. He’d acquired the worst of them saving Cross from his own spirit. “We can’t get anywhere without Burke’s help. You want to save Dani, right?”
“I want to save her, and Cross…”
“But mostly Dani. Right?” Ronan quietly waited for an answer.
Kane laughed. He always laughed when he was nervous. He gripped the steel windowsill tight. He wanted to break something.
“Ronan…I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore.” He took a steadying breath. He was shaking. “I’m not sure if I ever did.”
Crown of Ash (Blood Skies, Book 4) Page 17