Smoke, Vampires, and Mirrors

by Dima Zales

  After a moment of concentration, sparks show up between his skin and the plugs. Then the TV comes to life.

  Interesting.

  Is he a technomancer like Felix?

  But no. Lizzy is working the controls, so the bearded guy must just have electrical powers.

  I’ll call him Sparkles, I decide.

  The VCR comes to life next, and a grainy video starts, showing me on stage, performing the lottery prediction and the rest.

  It looks great and I don’t look like I was freaking out, even though I totally was. As tempting as it is, I resist the urge to ask Sparkles for a copy of the tape.

  I’m probably expected to act repentant at this juncture.

  “Now tune it to live TV,” Sparkles says, and Lizzy complies.

  A TV news show is on, and they have a picture of yours truly.

  “We checked on the lottery ticket,” says the newscaster guy. “It’s genuine, and was bought just before the performance. The folks at the lottery assure us there is no possible way the system could’ve been—”

  Sparkles stops supplying the TV with electricity, and it cuts out. Seeing that she’s no longer needed, Lizzy sets the remote down on the VCR and poofs away.

  “Thank you for coming,” Sparkles says to me nastily. “You will now pay for that heinous crime.”

  As if on cue, Obo turns into his wolf form, and the fingers and weapons of the others point at me again—more menacingly this time.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I assess my chances of flying away if they all shoot at me at once.

  Very low.

  Probably zero.

  “I can explain,” I say quickly. “I came to save all the humans on this world from a horrible fate. I didn’t realize there were Cognizant here as well; else I’d have spoken to you first.”

  The Councilors look confused—and, as a result, slightly less ready to shred me into little pieces.

  “I’m a seer,” I continue, speaking at a rapid clip. “I foresaw Tartarus destroying the world I’m from, and then I learned that he’s also coming to this world—and much sooner. So I came to stop him here.”

  As I pause for breath, I notice that not a single person has shot me with either a bullet or their magic mojo—and some have even lowered their arms.

  Good.

  I might survive yet.

  “Did you say Tartarus?” an older woman with lapis-colored eyes asks and frowns. “Maybe we should get Jaylen to join? He survived—”

  “Oh, please,” Sparkles says, rolling his eyes. “We’re not going to bother the poor illusionist with these lies.”

  “I’m not lying,” I say. “Tartarus is coming and I was prophesied to be the one who kills him. And because I wasn’t sure that I’m powerful enough, I did the TV performance to grow stronger. Again, I didn’t realize I’d step on your collective toes—though it doesn’t really matter anyway. The purpose of the Mandate is to prevent humans from learning about the Cognizant. But as soon as Tartarus arrives, there will be no humans left here—nor Cognizant.”

  I pointedly omit any mention of Lilith’s involvement. They may have heard of her, and being the daughter of evil incarnate is not going to help my case.

  Sparkles sighs theatrically and shakes his head. “Wow. She’ll say anything to save her hide.”

  “My hide is only in danger because I chose that.” I nod at Obo. “Why would I come here if not to warn you and get you ready? I could’ve easily flown to a hub and hightailed it home, leaving you to fend for yourselves in the apocalypse to come.”

  A lot more people look thoughtful, and some—like the older lady who spoke about some survivor—even look convinced.

  “You knew we would hunt you down no matter where you ran,” Sparkles says, but he sounds less certain.

  “Actually, I have powerful allies on the world where I’m from,” I say. “You wouldn’t be able to touch me there.”

  “This could explain where Criswell went,” says a slender woman who was one of the first to lower her gun.

  “Who is Criswell?” I ask Sparkles.

  “A seer who disappeared a few months ago, along with his friends and family,” he says gruffly, his expression more troubled.

  “There you have it,” I say. “He must’ve foreseen the end of the world but didn’t like the rest of you enough to warn you about it.”

  Sparkles strokes his beard for a few long seconds. “I still don’t trust you,” he says, and the few people still aiming at me nod approvingly. “You broke the most sacred rule we have.”

  “Don’t you have anyone with the power to tell if I’m being truthful?” I ask, looking around for limbal rings in people’s eyes and finding none.

  Where’s a dragon when you need one?

  Speaking of dragons, I really miss Nero—and not just because having him here could save my non-lying hide.

  “We can use one of the stones,” the older woman with the strange eyes says.

  “And waste an invaluable artifact?” Sparkles grunts.

  “The stakes couldn’t be higher,” she says. “We have ten stones left. We can spare one for this.”

  Frowning, Sparkles pulls out his walkie-talkie again and fiddles with the controls.

  “Yes?” a feminine voice says.

  “Bring the stones,” Sparkles orders and puts the walkie-talkie away.

  Lizzy poofs into existence once more. This time, she’s holding a beautiful bejeweled box in her hands.

  When she opens it, I see a bunch of large stones that shine with magical, ocean-blue light.

  Ah.

  This rings a bell.

  There’s a necklace in the box as well—one where a stone would fit into.

  That confirms it.

  When I faced the New York Council for the first time, they used the same thing on me. That time, it was Nero who shot a blue stone to make it shine like that—and after he did it, it took on his truth-telling abilities. Here, though, some dragon already pre-loaded the stones with that power.

  Maybe Nero himself?

  Since now isn’t the time to ask if the hot guy I’m sleeping with gave this to them, I wait quietly for Lizzy to put the stone into the necklace and then drape it over my neck.

  Sparkles puffs up. “With that, you will speak only—”

  “The truth,” I say. “Yes, I’m familiar with this magic and want to start by saying that if you need more stones, I know someone very intimately who can recharge them for you.”

  My necklace shines green—which proves beyond a shadow of doubt that I am telling the truth.

  As I intended, everyone’s eyes bulge out of their sockets.

  They must know about dragons—which I guess makes some sense, given the Lord of the Rings vibe of this group.

  In case the implied threat wasn’t clear, I add, “And before you make your decision about my fate, you should know the person in question would be extremely upset with you if I were harmed.”

  My necklace shines green once again.

  “In fact,” I say, feeling bolder at the horrified and impressed impressions all around, “I suspect that if you kill me, Tartarus’s arrival will be the least of your worries.”

  The stone confirms my words again.

  “Are you done with your threats and boasts?” Sparkles asks.

  “I was just stating facts,” I say, and the stone glows green. “How about you ask me what you need to know, so we can focus on what’s important—saving everyone from Tartarus?”

  “Are you really a seer?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say to a green confirmation.

  “Did you really see a vision of this world perishing?”

  “No,” I say. “I ran out of seer power before I could do so. I foresaw my own world ending, then someone else told me the same is going to happen here.”

  “Who is this someone?” he asks. “Is it another seer?”

  Crap.

  I really would rather keep Lilith out of this.

 
“It wasn’t a seer, but she said a seer gave her the information,” I say, choosing words carefully to make sure the stone doesn’t call me a liar. “I believed her because she has no reason to lie—which should be the reason you believe me.”

  “Let’s say we believe you,” the slender woman from earlier says. “The fact remains that Tartarus is a destroyer of worlds. What can we do, besides run?”

  “As I said earlier, I was prophesied to be the one who kills Tartarus. The prophecy was made by a seer who is more powerful than I am. Oh, and besides being a seer, I’m a vampire—as you can tell. And a probability manipulator.”

  The stone confirms my words, and everyone, even Sparkles, looks impressed with my rare trifecta of powers.

  “I also studied deceit and illusions—the conjuring kind,” I say. “Which might help in this situation.”

  “How?” the older woman from earlier asks with a frown.

  Maybe deceit and illusions weren’t the best thing to bring up when trying to sound like the paragon of honesty.

  “Do you have many Heralds on this world?” I ask as an idea that was jelling in my mind starts to crystalize.

  She nods as Sparkles frowns.

  “And can you, the Councilors, speak of things usually forbidden by the Mandate?” I ask.

  She nods again, but more warily. She must be anticipating where I’m going with this.

  “Okay. Then I think you should all go on TV and gain more power, the way I did,” I say before they can start booing my idea. “And I can help design illusions to make your abilities seem even greater.”

  “She’s insane,” Sparkles says. “She may believe her delusions, but that makes her no less crazy.”

  “I’m perfectly sane,” I say, and the stone confirms my words—though I guess it would do the same in any case, as long as I believed the truth of my words.

  “The scope of this conversation is growing far beyond what this Council can handle,” says the older woman from before. “We need to bring representatives from other Councils here—and Jaylen as well. He knows the most about Tartarus, having survived him.”

  A survivor besides Nostradamus? That’s interesting indeed.

  “Doing that is as good as admitting we believe her,” Sparkles says, looking unhappy.

  “I believe in the power of those stones,” the woman retorts. “I also don’t see any reason for her to make this up.”

  Grudgingly, Sparkles fiddles with his walkie-talkie.

  Before the device can come to life, Lizzy shows up, an expectant expression on her round face.

  “We need to gather as many representatives of the other Councils as we can,” he says to her imperiously. “Also, we need to speak with Jaylen—if he’s available, that is.”

  “Got it,” Lizzy says and teleports away.

  Nothing happens for about a minute, so I check if I’ve regained my seer powers.

  Sadly, no.

  After a couple more minutes, Lizzy comes back and brings another person with her, this one dressed in a toga—perhaps from a Council with a different aesthetic, more reminiscent of ancient Greece?

  The next person Lizzy brings is dressed in regular clothes, and the one after that is in a cocktail dress.

  Unlike on Earth, where all Councils like their robes and masks, it appears this world has a theme free-for-all.

  As more and more Councilors gather, I mentally outline the details of my idea on how to improve our chances in this fight.

  My musings are interrupted when I notice that besides Lizzy, there are now a dozen more teleporters bringing people in—at a faster and faster rate.

  The newcomers are exchanging heated whispers with the local Councilors, and my face burns under the weight of all the curious stares.

  A few more minutes pass, and Lizzy shows up holding the shoulder of an ancient-looking man.

  “Hello, Jaylen,” says the older woman who insisted he be brought here. “Sorry to disturb you, but this visitor has something that you, of all people, might want to hear.”

  Curious, I study the new arrival.

  When Samuel L. Jackson is a hundred-and-ten years old, he might be able to play this guy in a movie—assuming any actor would be able to project the bottomless sadness in Jaylen’s eyes.

  “I’m always glad to see your face, Roslin,” he says to the woman in a raspy voice.

  Flirting? Good for him.

  Blushing slightly, Roslin looks around at the noisy people, then points her hand at the ground.

  The meadow vibrates with a mini-earthquake—which gets everyone’s attention immediately.

  “Please tell everyone what you just told us,” Roslin says to me.

  I do as she says—only pausing midway, when the stone around my neck stops shining, likely having run out of dragon truth-telling mojo.

  Being able to lie is nice, so I embellish parts of the story a bit, claiming I came here of my own free will instead of admitting that my psycho mother kidnapped me.

  As soon as the name Tartarus is mentioned, Jaylen’s expression turns as dark as the one I’ve seen on Nostradamus’s face.

  He hates Tartarus, that much is clear.

  “Am I to understand that everyone believes the nonsense that just came out of her mouth?” Sparkles asks loudly, staring at his colleagues.

  The majority of the Councilors nod with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

  “How about we vote on it?” Roslin says. “Those who think we should treat Tartarus’s arrival as a credible threat, please raise your hand.”

  Almost all hands go up—even those of people who didn’t nod when Sparkles asked if they believed me.

  Shrugging, Sparkles lifts his own hand. “Fine. I guess there’s no harm in being prepared,” he grumbles. “But if Tartarus doesn’t come, this one will have a lot to answer for.”

  “I wish I were making all of this up,” I say. “For everyone’s sake.”

  “Right,” Roslin says. “With that settled, I want Jaylen to take over. He’s the only person I know who survived Tartarus’s arrival on a world. And, as an illusionist, he can show us what to expect.”

  Right. She said that earlier, but it only now clicks. No wonder Jaylen had that expression on his face when I mentioned the upcoming invasion.

  Tartarus must have hurt him deeply.

  “Anyone who minds seeing my illusion, please speak up,” Jaylen says, looking around.

  No one has any objections, so he raises his thin arms and shoots red energy at us.

  The forest around us is replaced with the hub Lilith and I came from.

  “Let’s start on my home world,” Jaylen’s disembodied voice says. “I’ll take you there now.”

  Our viewpoint flies into the gate Lilith and I stepped into this world from, then quickly travels the path to Earth that I memorized—only we don’t exit on Earth but follow another set of gates, which are also familiar.

  When we exit at our destination, I see that my suspicion was right.

  Jaylen took us to a world I’ve been to. The one with all the mummified bodies I kept seeing on the way to and from Lilith’s and Nero’s worlds.

  Only here, Jaylen’s world is very much alive—the airport bustling with frantic activity reminiscent of New York’s JFK.

  Like a movie on fast-forward, the viewpoint rushes out of the airport and travels over the highway, then through a city block, up the staircase of a building, and into an apartment where a much younger Jaylen is sitting in front of a TV.

  On the screen is a man who vaguely resembles Jaylen, especially the older one of today.

  “When you look at Tartarus, you see someone you look up to or worship,” Jaylen’s disembodied voice says. “That’s why I see my long-dead grandfather.”

  Right. Nostradamus saw his mentor in his memories.

  Tartarus has a green screen in the background—as if the studio execs wanted to CGI something behind him, but then forgot to do so.

  “Behold,” Tartarus says sonorously. “I ha
ve finally come, and your worries and tragedies are over.”

  As he speaks, I get an odd sensation. It’s like he means every word of that cryptic message. Like I should believe him. Like his word is the truth, maybe with an upper-case T.

  When I mention this, Jaylen explains, “Tartarus has the power to make you want to believe his words. Fortunately, it doesn’t work on those of us who know better.”

  Interesting. So Tartarus can look like something sacred and make you want to believe him—no wonder whole worlds lose to him.

  “I am known by many names,” Tartarus says with the same trust-invoking manner. “Know that those who had faith in me will now be rewarded.” He smiles beatifically, and I wonder how many billions of people see him as their deity. “But worry not, those who did not have faith in me,” he says with an even brighter smile. “Now that I am revealed, you can believe. It’s never too late.”

  The gall of this guy. He’s doing the same thing Lilith did on her world, but on a grander scale. And, unlike Lilith who left her subjects more or less alive, Tartarus plans to have them sucked dry right after he makes himself their god.

  “Soon, I shall bring your essences—your very souls—to join with me,” Tartarus says, his eyes radiating celestial warmth. “We will become as one.”

  What a clever charade. If people believe this last bit—and many will—their belief will enhance his core power, that of consuming life energy. What’s most diabolical is that nothing he said in that last statement is a lie. When he drains someone—or gobbles their essence—they do become “as one,” in a very strict sense of the word.

  “Now my children will arrive,” Tartarus continues. “Treat them with the respect you would treat me, as they are an extension of me. We serve the same purpose.”

  Again true. They’re all here for an all-you-can-eat buffet.

  Finally, Tartarus disappears from the screen, and the programming cuts to a newscaster, who right away starts to speculate on what the viewers just heard, dropping phrases like Judgment Day and Second Coming.

  Young Jaylen isn’t interested in this part. He overhears something happening outside, so he stands up and walks to his third-floor window to look out.