Chasing the Dragon (46 page)

Light, the book began, is all there is in the universe. Nothing but light.
A mirror reflects light. A glass may also refract light, splitting it up into its
component frequencies and scattering them over a wider area, creating the
appearance in the mind of the beholder of false images and misleading colours.
Blah blah blah ... there were over eight hundred pages and illustrations. The more suited a being becomes for the passage of light, the more able and open to enslavement by higher powers it is; therefore as the individual
ascends in refinement of the higher frequencies and energy forms it is paramount
they guard against the unwitting inclusion and transmission of more able and
subtle forms.

She reread that a few hundred times and looked into the inky
blackness where Teazle was standing, unseen. She would have said,
"Oh, shit!" but that was more words and she'd already used far, far too
many of them.

Temple Greer was looking at him as if they had all the time in the
world. Malachi knew that he didn't have such a luxury in this one, but
if they were talking to someone here, someone who would be here at
least in twenty seconds' time in order to speak and listen, then that
someone wouldn't be anywhere else right then. He would know, for a
minute, where trouble was.

"Give it to him," Malachi said. "I'll work on it from the other side."

He galloped down the stairs, leaping the cables, not waiting for
Greer's reply or Bentley's thundering pursuit. Out in the street he
turned corners, found shadows, the concealment of dustbins, and he
was cat, then small cat, then moving through the darkness shared by all
worlds and into the harsh, biting cold of a place he had begun to know
very well. In the depths of Under time would stretch much farther than
a few more seconds. But instead of a fire he saw ashes and the black of
cinders. Madrigal's camp was gone. She had moved on. He cursed, cast
about, and then began to run in the trail her wolf had made.

In his mind's eye he saw a green sun and bronze shadows of three
women. Their axes rose and fell, rose and fell, and the mountain they
carved ran with black rivers; and all the creatures like him, whose kingdom was the dark of night, howled and screamed. The tallest woman, the
oldest, turned. She had tiger's eyes and they looked right at him.

The snows of Under were beginning to melt, but in the high passes
the snow was resilient. He had hoped that Madrigal would be nearby so
that he could have mustered her help or at least a kind word, but
summer itself was coming and she had business in the lowlands, he
guessed, so he must take the road to Tath's lonely outpost by himself.
The brisk run gave him time to think of what he would say, but as he
neared the turn of the path where it lost itself completely among the
last pines of the steepening slopes he was stopped by the sight of scarlet
on white. Instinct made him flatten himself down until his back was
lower than the snowline and his belly was wet on the hard ground.

It was not the ears of Tath's hounds, but blood on the snow. The
smell of it was strong as the wind turned towards him.

"Who would think we would still bleed red?" said a voice behind
him wistfully. He turned his head and saw the elf not six metres away
from him, all but invisible in the stand of white birches.

"Tath?"

"I guess your arrival means I am not the only one to have found
something curious and regretted it." Tath came forwards and showed
his empty hands. He was covered in a fine layer of snow, but it didn't
disguise the fact that at least some of the red had come from him. He
limped although he tried to conceal it. Hearing his master's voice a lone
hound darted out across the bloodied hillside, but he waved it back and
Malachi heard its whine of disappointment after it had vanished.

"What happened?" Malachi hardly noticed his teeth now, almost
was grateful for them in fact. He let himself get to all fours and shake
off the cold.

"I was careless with all my new power," Tath said wryly, and then
as Malachi's stare urged him on he gave an uncomfortable sigh. "A
necromancer came to find me. I have met them on occasion. Knowing
the art I understand what I must look like from the other side. And I
saw myself something that looked greatly interesting-so unusual for
anyone to survive such regions for any time, Malachi, you have to understand, for someone who is not one of the angels or monsters natural to these places. Anyway, to cut to the point, I saw a necromancer's
form surrounded by masses of the dark agents. He was a kind of focus
for them. In common situations this would be the end of the necromancer, but they formed order for him and it seemed he spoke to them
in their own way. I have only been able to do this since I was cast in
Jack's shoes, so I thought I would take a closer look. Well, he saw me
and he pursued me with the ferocity of a savage. There was no talk, just
an assault. Took me by surprise." Tath paused. "He sent all his creatures
after me. They hesitated. But then they came on anyway. His will was
stronger than theirs. I fled here, thinking a material plane was a place
they'd not follow me to. Most didn't. But he had angels with him,
Malachi. I don't know if you ever encountered one? No? Me neither
until now. They have no trouble manifesting parts of themselves on this
plane at least, let me tell you. We fought. Terrible weapons. My pack
tried to save me and most of them are spirits on the winds now."

"How did you survive?" Malachi looked at the figure before him
more carefully.

"I am not easily killed anymore."

"Jack's power was godlike." This was speculation for Malachi, and
not a little envy and awe. "Are you saying you are immortal?"

"No, I think not. But the Winter King can't be defeated on his
own ground. The land saved me. Its strength is mine while I stand on
it. I think this is always so for the older fey, no?"

"Yes." Malachi nodded. "Tell me about these angels. Are you sure
about it?"

"Not sure. I never saw one before, not close and never in a material form. They were weak here. Their blades only had spirit powers
and the strength of normal iron. I am not iron-weak. But they were
not either." He stopped talking suddenly and Malachi watched him
ease his hip and cautiously move his arm. A fine tremor was visible on
him. It shook the snow off his clothing and revealed its shredded tat ters. "They almost tore me to bits. Their blades have a righteous
power; every evil you have ever done, every hurt, every torment, all
awaken to their touch."

"Some angels," Malachi muttered, though he was shaken. He
realised Tath's checking was genuine surprise that body parts had not
fallen off him, but in fact he seemed to be unharmed, physically at
least. "But how did you best them?"

"I am not sure I did. They left me here when it was clear I couldn't
be killed. I healed too fast." His voice broke and he turned away.
"Better to die in those circumstances, Malachi. So, now amuse me,
have you come for my help?"

Malachi explained the situation as he understood it. Meanwhile
Tath beckoned him forwards and they walked a wide berth around the
bloodied ground to the cave where they had sheltered before. It was
quiet. Just two dogs ran to meet them. Others lay by the fireside,
panting, their eyes closed, their coats blackening with gore.

"And you thought I would have a way to stop him."

"You seemed like a good bet," Malachi said, trying not to be
defeated. "I didn't expect this. Angels and that. I don't know what
they are."

"They are proxies acting at lower frequencies to their master
powers," Tath said, standing by the fireside but looking no less cold.
The bleakness in his eyes spoke of a great deal of pain. "So either he has
ascended greatly already or he has the favour of beings best not dealt
with. You were right to give him the device back. You should feel less
guilty. Where is Lila?"

"She went to find that useless husband of hers." They both mulled
this over for a minute. Malachi regretted his rancor, but he couldn't
help but feel it. "And started some new war with the rogues, but that
is unimportant."

"They are hunting for Zal," the elf said, as much to himself as to
Malachi, who nodded and stared at the fire's slow lick on the fallen branches in the grate. Then he said, "This is not an attack on the
human world. It is something quite different. If it were an assault you
would have fallen. Kidnap, hostages, murder-small-time games. A
zombie, the Fleet ..." His musing trailed off into silence briefly. "No,
I think he is after her weapons," Tath said. "And Teazle himself. You
said that he came here and was changed. Lightbringer, you said."

Malachi squirmed uncomfortably, "I hate these names. They are ill
to speak of."

"Lila has Tatters and the pen. Teazle has the swords and the fire. I
am undead. You ..."

"... are unaltered, just retro. That's all." He began to look around,
and found the things necessary for making tea, water, a kettle. He
started work.

"And Zal?"

"Those bitches took him," Malachi muttered, setting the pot over
the fire. He struggled with his hands but the difficulty was a pleasant
distraction.

The elf nodded, containing his shaking by keeping a grip on his
own arms. "Well, whether these things are more than opportune can't
be said, but they are a hell of an opportunity for someone."

"And what for?"

"Does it matter? The dreams of creatures like that seldom stray
from acquiring power. What they do with it later is anyone's guess.
Acquisition is usually enough of an ambition to draw them to their
ends. Only godhead would be enough of a summit to turn their hearts
to other greeds they might satisfy."

"Godhead. Is that an ambition these days?"

"It ever was," Tath said. He bent down to one of his dying dogs and
placed his hand on its head gently. For that instant his own shaking
stopped. Its ribs stilled and stiff legs relaxed. Tears were on his face.

Malachi stared at the pot. He had run out of jobs. "Okay. Seems
like he's well beyond us then."

"Suppose he has mastered the continuum of death, dream, and void.
He sends servants to do his work in Otopia. He sent angels for me."

"You think he has trouble in these regions?"

"Yes, I would think so."

But Malachi had suddenly realised a greater implication. "Mastered? What does that mean?"

"Passing between them at will, moving things through them at his
command."

"Tath. All these memories ... this snow ... is this snow the memories of the dead?"

"Yes."

"But the spirit ..."

"Departs."

"Can there be true resurrection?"

"Come, tell me what you are leading to. It will be faster."

Malachi snarled with frustration at himself. "I wish I knew. Jones
said this bastard wanted to ascend. He was going to become a conduit
for a dead thing. Is it possible? Isn't that energy gone forever, turned
into everything else in the constant round?"

"Usually."

"Usually, usually! Damn it, there has to be some law!"

"Which dead person are we talking about?"

"Don't you listen? Agh, no I didn't tell you that part of it. Listen
now, then. Jones said he wanted to use Night. Mother Night. Ridiculous, of course. But then, unlike the others, I remembered ... she's
dead. They killed her. The Three Sisters killed her and used her body
to make the lower worlds of Faery, Demonia, and Alfheim. I saw it. I
was there. If this creature has mastered death and dream, if this snow,
if if if, Tath ..

"Yes, I see," Tath said. He took his hand from his dog's head and
he was calm. "He does not propose resurrection. He proposes to
become."

"What does that mean, Tath?"

"He wants the mantle of Night."

"To become a dragon?"

"Yes."

Malachi did not understand why that would be desirable, but then
he was not a demon and he didn't deal with the spirit realms, so what
did he know? "Should we stop him?"

"If we wait and he is successful we will not be able to. Then he can
take whatever he wants from anywhere. Only the gods will stop him if
they live, and you know there is some debate about that."

"You didn't say yes."

"Is my word all you need?"

Malachi looked at the elf closely. "I am not saying it would be your
responsibility."

"But you would like to. I would like it to be yours. We are afraid.
Rightly so. Already his actions prove he has no cares for whoever gets
in his way. But also they show he does not go out of his way in order
to cause harm, else there could have been much more chaos than there
has been. Only the sending of the zombie to Lila seems to me to be an
offensive move. If we set out to stop him, and by stop you mean kill
for nothing else would work, then that puts us at least on an equal
footing of evil as he, does it not?"

Malachi bared his teeth. "I should have expected a debate on metaphysics from an elf."