by E. A. Copen
Just like Samedi to pass the buck. “I don’t even know what to look for!”
His lips parted, revealing perfect, white teeth. Anyone who didn’t know The Baron might’ve called it a smile. “You know what the job requires better than most. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
I started to argue, but Samedi disappeared behind a purple cloud, leaving me choking and alone in the hallway. The smoke dissipated, and I caught my breath enough to mutter a curse. That bastard had been about as helpful as always, which was to say not at all. I don’t know why I expected anything different.
At least he hadn’t taken up what little time I had to rest. Leave it to Samedi to get right to the point.
I put my bag down next to an empty cot and stretched out on it, folding my hands over my chest. Where was I going to find a replacement? Another necromancer would probably be ideal, but I was the only one in town that I knew of. In fact, I didn’t know of any other necromancers. Most of us didn’t exactly advertise our services. I’ll have to find someone, though, and soon. I yawned and closed my eyes. But first, sleep.
I should’ve known better than to expect to have a peaceful sleep.
Almost as soon as I closed my eyes, I woke up back at Algiers Point sitting on a log overlooking the Mississippi, except the water had turned completely black. I backed away from the water. My heel caught on a knot in the log and I tumbled to the ground, landing in the mossy mud with a thud.
Odin leaned over me. “I did warn you to stay away from the water.”
“You could’ve been more specific.” I sat up, rubbing the back of my head. “And you could’ve told me about the shadow thing. Is that why you’re holding onto it?”
He shrugged. The raven perched on his shoulder cawed and took flight. “Without a shadow, you can’t be infected. Wouldn’t do the city much good if their savior wasn’t immune, now would it?”
I stood and shook some of the mud off my arms. “Yeah, except even immune to whatever Mask is doing, I still don’t know if I can stop him. Hell, I don’t even know what Mask is. Don’t suppose you have any more helpful advice?”
Odin crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at me. “You have the stones and the Spellweaver, the assistance of a Nephilim, an Oracle, and the combined firepower of the US National Guard and the New Orleans Police Department. You’re a Horseman. If I give you much more, it’ll hardly be a challenge.”
“Of course. Can’t be too easy on the guy who’s already done you a favor by taking out Loki, right?” I gave up trying to get the mud off. It was just a dream, anyway. When I woke up, I’d still be nice and clean like I’d just gotten out of the shower. It sure as hell felt real though. “Why are you involved in this mess with Mask anyway? I understand why you stepped in with Loki, but how is the Allfather at all related to a monster from the Nightlands?”
“He’s more than just a monster.” Odin sighed and sat in midair. “Mask is a disciple to the old gods. If you’ve studied any myths at all, I’m sure you understand they all follow cycles. Old and terrible gods commit horrific acts only to be defeated and supplanted by new gods. The Fomorians, which Mask serves, are the oldest of gods. They were ancient even when I was still new to the world. But they were never truly defeated. Only sealed away in a dark, desolate land where they were out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, right? An eternity in the Nightlands is enough to make anyone want to escape and exact their vengeance on anyone or anything.”
“Still doesn’t explain why you’re involved.”
His white beard shifted, revealing a smile. “I’m involved because I choose to be. Besides, if the Fomorians have their way, think of what that could mean for the snack cake industry, and I have grown rather fond of those.”
I supposed there were worse reasons to save the human race than Twinkies, which I knew Odin was fond of. Whatever his reasoning was, I wasn’t going to turn away help when it was offered. Not that Odin was offering me any direct assistance. Like he said, that’d be too easy. “When I traded my shadow to you, did you know this was going to happen?”
Odin shrugged. “No one knows the future. All we can ever be privy to are the possibilities the past presents. The moment you ascended into Hell to free your lady love’s soul from Lucifer Morningstar’s grasp, you opened up the possibility that Mask—or some entity like him—would try to come to Earth. To conquer Earth, it naturally follows that he would need to first secure New Orleans.”
“Because of the seal?” I asked.
Odin’s eyebrows shot up. “So, he let that slip, did he? Yes, there was a seal placed in the city long ago, one that was shattered when you went to Hell. The protective spell over this city crumbled, making all of this possible.” He gestured widely.
I sank back into the mud with a splash. “It’s my fault. I did this.”
“True.”
I looked down at my hands. Everything had changed when I went to Hell. Had I known then how that would change the world, I might’ve thought twice about it, but I wouldn’t have made a different decision. Emma was a good woman, and she didn’t deserve to be tortured by Morningstar. I would’ve gone after her either way.
My hand closed into a fist. “I can fix it. I have to. If I restore the seal, will that stop whatever Mask is doing?”
Odin hopped down from his invisible chair and stretched. “What he’s doing is what he does best, creating chaos and confusion, drowning the city in madness. Before this is over, you’ll have a choice to make, Lazarus. The most difficult choice. I can’t tell you if restoring the seal will work, nor can I tell you where the seal is. Doing so will change the flow of time, and I don’t dare tamper with that again.”
I frowned and lowered my hand. “Again? What do you mean again?”
Odin grinned. “Let’s just say it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve altered things in your favor.”
“If you can’t help me and can’t tell me anything, then what’s the point of this meeting?” Mud sloshed underfoot as I pushed myself to my feet.
“Now, I didn’t say I couldn’t help you.” He winked at me. “Just that I can’t give you the help you want.”
I threw my hands up, exasperated, and turned my back.
“Lazarus, you cannot become so consumed with winning this battle that you lose the war. Mask is not your enemy.”
“Then what is?” I turned around, fists balled.
Odin raised a single finger. “Time. Humans are limited in their understanding of the universe by the eighty or so years they have to understand it. Creatures like Mask have had an eternity. He knows the value of losing a hundred battles to win the one strategic one.”
I marched up to him. “I’m a necromancer, Odin, not a time mage. I can’t see the future, no matter how hard I try. Are you telling me Mask can?”
“I’m telling you, Mask and his masters have had millions of years to plan, to follow the threads of time and predict the future down to every detail. He knows what he’s doing. He isn’t an enemy you can defeat with overwhelming force, or trick with your superior intelligence, because he understands your weakness. Even as strong as you are, you’ll never be strong enough to survive a deadly virus, a bullet to the head, or the span of another hundred years. You have limits he doesn’t. You must find a way around them if you want to win the war, Lazarus.”
Above, the two circling ravens began to caw.
He closed his eye and turned away. “I can say no more than that.”
I grabbed Odin’s arm. “Mask has a weakness too. I’ve seen him shy away from the light, from angel fire. He’s not the invincible genius you say he is.”
“And you’re not the all-powerful necromancer you think you are.” He jerked his arm away. “Heed my words, Horseman. Find a way to see around your greatest weakness and you might stand a chance. If you remain shortsighted, Mask has already won. Now, WAKE UP!” His words boomed through the empty space, loud enough it made my ears ache.
I sat up suddenly in the unfamiliar cot.
Emma took a step back, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just having nightmares is all.” My forehead was drenched in sweat. Dammit all, and I’d just taken a shower. “What time is it?”
Emma held out a bottle of water. “Almost midnight. I let you sleep as long as I could. Took me this long to get everyone together on your list. You sure you need this many people?”
I nodded and took the water bottle, chugging half of it before I answered. Despite having nearly drowned earlier, I was dying of thirst. “No matter what we settle on for the plan, we’ll need a variety of people to get it done. I pulled everyone on that list for a reason. You’ll see.”
“Okay, I trust you.”
“Where is everyone?”
“Upstairs in the conference room.” She took a step toward the door but paused. “You want me to wait for you, or can you find your way?”
“I’ll meet you there in a second.”
She nodded and went on her way.
I slipped into the bathroom, where I stared into the empty mirror. Ever since giving up my shadow, I hadn’t had a reflection either. I hadn’t realized that was part of the deal when I surrendered it, but my latest conversation with Odin had gotten me thinking. Maybe there was more to this than just being immune. If the great enemy of all humans was time, how was it Mask was using that against us? We measured time in days, years, and months, but also in the toll it took on our bodies. Without a reflection, I had to rely on other people to tell me I looked like crap most of the time. At first, it had been difficult, embarrassing even. I couldn’t even shave right without help for the first two weeks. But I’d learned. Time wasn’t an enemy in that sense. Time was all I needed to learn how to survive in a new way, with the help of others. What if rushing headlong at this, fighting and winning against Mask now, in New Orleans, was somehow playing into his plan? If I had more time, I’d be able to think about the consequences, to make better choices.
That’s always where it goes wrong, isn’t it? I turned on the faucet and rinsed my face with cold water. I always rush into doing what seems right at the time. I solve the short-term problem but create two more long-term ones. I win the battle, but maybe I’m losing the war.
I turned off the faucet and watched water drip from nothing in the mirror. Just because I couldn’t see me didn’t mean I couldn’t see the water falling from my face. It was one of the tricks I’d eventually figured out after losing my reflection. Anything touching me went invisible in the mirror as soon as it touched my skin, but the minute it broke contact, it showed back up. It didn’t help me shave, though.
The world goes on even without me. I pulled the paper towels down from the dispenser. Guess even for all my power, I’m just a cog in a machine. I toweled off my face and sighed. “Is that what you wanted me to take away from this, Odin? That I’m nobody special?”
He didn’t answer.
I probably seemed like a crazy person, talking to myself in the bathroom.
Whatever Odin wanted, he should’ve been clearer. I couldn’t base my decisions on the ramblings of a crazy, vague god. There were facts I couldn’t ignore. Fact one: Mask was destroying New Orleans, and if I didn’t do something, he was going to win. Everyone I knew and loved would eventually be infected or dead. Fact two: I had the power to stop him. With the three Speaking Stones and Finn and Josiah on my side, we stood a better chance than ever.
We could win this battle, and then there wouldn’t have to be a war at all.
I pitched the towels in the trash and tugged down my shirt. Time to go meet the war council, just in case.
Chapter Nineteen
The conference room was standing room only when I walked in, which meant Emma had indeed gotten the whole band back together. Ulmir the dwarf sat at the opposite end of the table, spinning in his swivel chair. He stopped immediately when I walked through the door and grabbed the table, blinking quickly and shaking the dizziness from his head. Paula punched him in the arm. Adelard crossed his arms and snorted, while his eight-armed wife busied herself working on several sewing projects at once.
Across from them, Josiah sat with his hand propping up his head, his collar unbuttoned, and shirt wrinkled. From the looks of it, he’d had a rough few days in lockup. Stefan sat next to Josiah, looking just as tired. Finn and Remy took up the last two seats on that side of the table, while Detective Drake and Nate sat on the other side. Emma stood off to the right of the door, a paper cup of coffee in her hand. Foxglove took the seat at the head of the table, looking much better than the last time I’d seen him.
Everyone looked up as I entered. I patted my face down. “Is there something on my face?”
Detective Drake crossed his arms. “I think we’re all just wondering why we’re here. I should be sleeping right now.”
“You’re here because I need your help.” I nodded to Emma, who shut off the lights.
A projector slowly whirred to life, projecting a map of New Orleans onto the wall.
“This is a map of the city as it stands,” I said. “The National Guard and the police have been working to keep it updated. Every time they spot a group of infected, it gets marked on this map. Anybody notice a pattern?”
Nate raised his hand.
I sighed. “You can just say it, Nate.”
He slowly lowered his hand. “They’re all headed toward the Quarter, or at least mainly concentrated there.”
“We already knew that,” Drake mumbled.
Emma gave him a sharp glance. “Not everyone is privy to this information, Brad.”
I flipped the light switch off and on to get everyone’s attention. “Rule number one. If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Get along, folks. You’re all here for a reason. I’m not asking you to like each other, just to help me get the job done. Can we focus on that, please?”
Emma and Drake stared at each other a long moment before he finally nodded and sank farther into his chair.
“We have everything we need to take on Mask except for a few choice items, and a plan, which we’ll get to in a minute. What we don’t have is the location of Mask’s primary avatar, and we’re going to have to draw him out for this to work. So far, no one’s been able to pinpoint where he might be, but I’ve got a theory.” I walked up to stand beside the map. “Finn, what did you call the infected?”
He sat forward, surprised to be called on. “I said it wasn’t Mask exactly. It’s like they’re infected by the shadow of an avatar of Mask.”
“I believe those shadows are congregating near the real thing.” I gestured to the many red dots in the Quarter. “Mask is somewhere in the Quarter. We need some way to flush him out and to deal with the infected without killing them.”
“Easy.” Josiah lowered his arm. “They don’t like angel fire. I’ll just lob some at the buildings. Bastard will come right out.”
“I said without killing people. Plus, some of those buildings are like four hundred years old. You can’t just go around burning down buildings, Josiah.”
He crossed his arms, shrugged, and leaned back in his seat. “It’s worked pretty well for me so far.”
“He does have a point when it comes to the light, though,” Stefan said. “We know they don’t like it. We could herd at least some of the infected to a central area with spotlights on helicopters.”
Emma shook her head. “It won’t work for all of them. Some of the infected are holed up in buildings where the light can’t reach, and we don’t have the manpower to go building to building in short order. It takes a long time just to clear one building. Lots of narrow alleys too where they might be able to hide from the light.”
“If they don’t like the light, where do they go in the day?” I asked.
“The reports I’ve seen say they mostly go indoors, or wherever they can find shade,” Nate said. “But the sunlight doesn’t stop them either. They go out in it all the time. They’re just more active at night, and this time of year, the nights are get
ting longer.”
“Lights are more effective weapons at night when they’re brightest.” Drake nodded. “If you want to do maximum damage to Mask, you hit him when it’s darkest.”
“That’ll also be when his people are strongest,” said Remy. “More of them will be awake and roaming around. It’ll be far more dangerous to go in at night than during the day.”
“It won’t matter how many of them there are if I’ve got the stones,” Finn said. “Just get me close to Mask, and I can do the rest.”
I clapped my hands loudly to get everyone’s attention. “Our objective isn’t using the stones on Mask.”
“Pardon?” Adelard put a hand to his ear. “Thought you said we weren’t going to use the Mask-killing weapon to kill Mask.”
“That’s exactly what I said. At least, not at first. There’s a seal somewhere in the city, one that was broken a few months ago. We’re going to find it, close it, and then hit Mask with everything we’ve got when he’s got nowhere to run. That way, we can make sure once he’s gone, he stays gone.”
Ulmir, who had been quiet up to that point, pushed out his chair and stood. “There’s just one problem with your plan, King Lazarus. By the way you phrased that, I’m guessing you have no idea where in the city this seal is.”
I turned my back to the table so I could study the map. “Odin told me the seal was broken when I first went to Hell, but I didn’t enter Hell from New Orleans. The first time I went, I was still in the God’s arena.”
“Does he do this often?” Ulmir whispered.
Finn shrugged. “I don’t really listen to him enough to know. Ninety percent of the time, I’m completely zoned out.”
I ignored them and started plotting out locations on the map. Between each kingdom in Hell, I’d had to talk to a Loa, and each one of those seemed to be located in a strategic location that corresponded to a place around New Orleans. There was the old chapel, the bar, Marie Laveaux’s tomb… But I hadn’t come back to New Orleans each time. Josiah had provided me with the means to travel between realms directly, which had saved me a lot of time, and Emma’s life. But that meant I didn’t know where exactly I had broken the seal. It could’ve been at any of those locations, or somewhere else I hadn’t recognized.