Dark War (21 page)

  "So you're going to just keep hanging out with us since you can't do what your boss wants?" I asked. 

  "I guess so. He's got plenty of other reporters out in the streets to talk to witnesses, and as long as I stay with you, I can still observe what you do. It's better than nothing, you know?"

  It sounded like a lame excuse to me. I had no idea how long it would take to repair or replace Varney's cyber-eye, but as strong as vampires are and as swiftly as they heal, surgery can be performed on them rapidly. Switching out Varney's cyber-eye might well prove no more difficult than changing the spark plugs in a car. So why wasn't he hauling ass back to the Eidolon Building for a repair job right now?

  I was about to confront Varney about it, but Shamika said, "We were on Earth. Just for a few moments, but we were there."

  The enormity of what she said stunned us into silence. When the Darkfolk decided to leave Earth four hundred years ago, they traveled to another dimension where they built the city of Nekropolis. But if what Shamika had said was true, the entire city had been transported to Earth's dimension, if only briefly. 

  "Is that even possible?" Varney said.

  "The amount of power it would take is staggering," Devona said. "I'm not sure even a being as powerful as Talaith could do it."

  "Why would she?" I said. "Why would anybody? It's not like the Darkfolk are completely cut off from Earth and dying to get back. They import goods and materials whenever they want, and they can apply for travel visas at each of the Darklords' strongholds."

  "Maybe it was her retaliatory strike against Varvara," Devona suggested. "Perhaps she was trying to exile Varvara by transporting the Sprawl to Earth." 

  I thought about this for a moment. "Maybe, but Varney's producer said the entire city was affected, all five Dominions, Glamere included."

  Devona shrugged. "Maybe Talaith screwed up. She wanted to transport only the Sprawl, but the spell accidentally affected the rest of the city." 

  "I guess it's possible. But if Talaith was in possession of a spell or magical device that powerful, why didn't she use it in the first place? Why bother with destroying the bridges?"

  "Maybe she didn't want to risk using it until she felt pushed to strike out at Varvara in a big way," Devona said. "And the spell must be an unstable one and not very reliable. After all, it failed, didn't it?" She turned to Shamika. "What do you think?" 

  "That seems… logical," the girl said. I had the sense that she might have said more, that she wanted to, but for some reason she remained silent. 

  Devona continued. "And the other Darklords – including Father Dis – are probably going nuts right now. Using such a powerful spell was bound to get their attention, and Talaith wouldn't want to drag them into her war with Varvara unless she had to. But the destruction of the Greensward angered her so much that she no longer cared whether she upset the other Lords, so she tried the spell, but it got away from her and failed, thankfully."

  "Maybe." Devona's theorizing sounded good, but like Varney had mentioned earlier, we didn't have any evidence. "If Talaith was responsible for what happened, let's hope she doesn't try it again. Next time she might get it right." 

  "That would be awful!" Shamika said.

  "That's putting it mildly," I said. "It would be bad enough if the Darkfolk suddenly found themselves back on Earth. Especially the vampires, if they appeared outside during the daytime. The humans would panic, of course, and there would undoubtedly be fighting and casualties on both sides, but that wouldn't be the worst of it. If people and buildings suddenly occupied the same space… well, I'm not sure what would happen, but I bet the laws of physics would be mighty unhappy with the situation and the end result wouldn't be pretty." 

  We reached the car barrier, and the demons on top waved us past without a word. In the middle of the street on the other side of the barrier, people were starting to gather, and they were clearly upset about the ghostly images of Earth that had briefly appeared. Some were talking loudly about what they'd seen and demanding someone in authority do something, while others simply cried or just stared blankly into space, traumatized. The crowd continued to grow as we did our best to make our way through, and while most of them ignored us, a few recognized me and begged me to investigate the strange occurrence and prevent it from happening again. It was a weird feeling knowing that people were looking to me for help – and frustrating too. You save the damn city a couple times, and suddenly everyone expects miracles from you. 

  A middle-aged harpy grabbed hold of my left arm with one of her foot claws and held tight to me, while she attempted to explain in tearful detail how awful the vision of Earth had been. I made a few placating noises and tried to pull away, but her grip was so strong that I was afraid I'd tear my arm off if I pulled too hard. My vox rang then, and I told the harpy that I needed to take the call as it might be important information relating to the case. She let me go, and I answered my vox as Devona, Shamika, Varney, and I continued to push our way through the crowd. 

  "Matt? It's Tavi."

  From the sound of his gruff voice and the rapid way he spoke, I knew he was still in his wildform, and I asked him to speak more slowly. Which he did, if only a little.

  "I've been having a devil of a time following Papa Chatha's scent trail. It zigzags all over the Sprawl, and I've been tracking it for hours. I almost lost it when that weird distortion hit, whatever that was. I didn't just see a phantom city – I
smelled
it, too. Anyway, once the ghost city vanished, I picked up the scent trail again and followed it to the Grotesquerie. That's where I am right now. The trail dead-ends here, Matt. I've had a quick look around, and I can't put my finger on it, but something doesn't feel right here. I–"

  Tavi's voice was cut off by a loud roar, which was immediately followed by an agonized scream, and then silence. 

  "Tavi!" I shouted into the vox. "TAVI!"

  No response. The line was dead, and I hoped the same couldn't be said for Tavi.
  "What's wrong?" Devona said.

  I started to tell her, but before I could get more than a couple words out, the crowd around us shrieked and moved rapidly away as Lazlo's cab raced toward us.

  I smiled grimly. It's good to have friends you can depend on, even when they look like mutated tarantula-bats. The cab's new tires screeched as the vehicle swerved to a stop in front of us. 

  Lazlo stuck his head out the window and favored us with a toothy grin. 

  "Going my way?"

 

The Grotesquerie is located on Sybarite Street, not far from the House of Mysterious Secrets. It covers several square miles and is surrounded by a hundred-foot-high wall made of a polished black substance that looks like solidified shadow, atop which sits a complex array of metal and crystal that continuously glows with a gentle, pulsing red light. The force field the wall generates is invisible to the naked eye, but it encloses the Grotesquerie in an unimaginably powerful energy dome that's a synthesis of the highest of high-tech science and the most potent of ancient magics – all in order to keep what the Grotesquerie houses from getting out. But this wasn't a prison. Nekropolis' prison is called Tenebrus, and it's located underground beneath the Nightspire, and I'd once had the dubious pleasure of being a guest there for a short time. What the Grotesquerie holds is far more dangerous and terrifying than anything a mere prison might contain, for the Grotesquerie is a zoo. But not just
any
zoo – it's a Darkfolk zoo.

  When the Darkfolk decided to emigrate from Earth, they gathered up every wild monster they could find, like a twisted version of Noah and the Ark, and brought them along to live in the Grotesquerie. But new ones occasionally surface, due to natural or unnatural evolution or scientific experiments gone hideously wrong, and the Grotesquerie's hunters make periodic expeditions to Earth to search out these monsters and bring em back alive, as the saying goes. They do it for the sake of preservation – many of the Grotesquerie's monsters are rare species or literally one of a kind – but a side benefit is that humans don't have worry about getting stomped on by gigantic radioactive lizards, so it's a win-win all the way around.

  Lazlo dropped us off at the main entrance, and brilliant detective that I am, I immediately suspected something was wrong when I saw all the people running screaming into the street. I turned to Devona and almost asked her to stay outside and watch Shamika, but given how the girl had handled herself with Magilla, I figured she was probably be in less danger going in than I was.

  The three of us pushed through the mass of fleeing zoogoers, Varney right there alongside us. With his camera-eye inoperative he should've had no reason to follow us into what was undoubtedly a hazardous situation, but I wasn't surprised that he'd decided to accompany us. He might've been a reporter, but it had become clear to me that he had a hidden agenda for sticking so closely to us, and right then wasn't the time to try and figure out what it was. There'd be an opportunity to question him later – assuming the four of us survived our visit to the Grotesquerie.

  Once we made it past the crowd and through the main gate, we moved off to the side to get out of the way, but we needn't have bothered. The majority of the Grotesquerie's visitors had managed to make it out, and only a handful of stragglers remained. 

  Inside, the Grotesquerie resembles an Earth zoo, with paved walkways winding between habitats set up for the creatures on display. The major difference is the landscaping. Instead of the pleasant trees and shrubs of an Earthly zoo, the Grotesquerie's paths are lined with deadly leech vine, tanglethorn, and rotweed. Visitors are always careful to give the plants a wide berth, and the plants usually leave them alone. But then they weren't put there to attack visitors. They were an additional deterrent should any of the Grotesquerie's attractions manage to escape their enclosures.

  Huge Frankenstein monsters were employed as keepers, and a half dozen of them clomped past us in their gray coveralls and overlarge work boots, each of them clutching long metallic rods with glowing red tips at one end. The keepers' expressions were grim, but since Frankenstein monsters aren't known for their cheerful, sunny dispositions, it was hard to tell if they were upset over whatever was happening or if it was just another day on the job for them. Given the panicking visitors fleeing for their lives, I opted for the former. Told you I was a brilliant detective.

  "Follow the keepers!" I said, and we did so, setting off at a run.

  Given my undead state, I'm not that well coordinated at the best of times, even if I've just had a fresh application of preservative spells. But considering that I was currently a jigsaw puzzle of a zombie holding himself together through sheer concentration, I was even less coordinated than usual. With every galumphing shuffle-step I took, I felt my body literally threatening to come apart at the seams, and it took an extra effort of will to keep myself intact. 

  We followed the keepers past several enclosures, and though it had been a while since my last visit to the Grotesquerie, I remembered the creatures we passed well: the Beast with a Million Eyes, the Killer Shrews, the Monster That Challenged the World, the Crawling Eye, Q the Winged Serpent, and my personal favorite, the original Hound of the Baskervilles. Each of their enclosures had been specially designed to contain the beasts, using a combination of high-tech science, powerful sorcery, and good old-fashioned titanium steel. And if by some impossibly remote chance any of them somehow escaped, the Grotesquerie's deadly flora would stop them – or at least slow them down long enough for visitors to flee for the exit. The creatures glared, snarled, snapped, roared, and raged at us as we ran by their cages, but that was all they could do, and we were damned thankful for it. 

  When we caught up with the keepers, we found them, along with a dozen others, battling a large di nosaur that, despite all the Grotesquerie's safety precautions, had escaped its enclosure. I recognized the beast as Titanus, an oversized version of a T.Rex that had been captured in a hidden valley on Earth, and from his less than placid demeanor, it was apparent that his time in captivity hadn't mellowed him. The dinosaur stood on the path, roaring in fury, bleeding legs wrapped in tanglethorn, while Frankensteinian keepers jabbed him with their energy lances. The keepers were tall and their lances long enough to reach Titanus' abdomen and sides, and every time a lance struck the dinosaur's leathery hide, there was a bright discharge of crimson energy accompanied by a sizzling sound. Titanus thrashed and tried to get away from his tormentors, but the tanglethorn lining the path was doing its job, holding him in place while the keepers fought to subdue him.

  As impressive as the sight of a dinosaur in full battle fury was, our attention was immediately drawn to a large chunk of meat caught in Titanus' dagger-like teeth – a chunk that looked disturbingly like the upper half of Tavi's body. Like most Darkfolk, lykes can take a lot of damage and survive, but getting bitten in half is a damned serious injury no matter what species you are, and though it was difficult to tell with Titanus shaking his head back and forth and roaring in pain and anger, Tavi appeared to show no signs of life.

  "We have to get Tavi out of there!" Devona said. "As long as his brain's intact, there's a chance he'll be able to regenerate the rest of his body. But if Titanus swallows the rest of him…"

  Devona didn't complete the thought. She didn't need to. Once Tavi's brain had been dissolved by the digestive juices in the dinosaur's stomach, neither magic nor science would be able to bring him back. We had to rescue Tavi – or what was left of him – but the question was how? We couldn't exactly walk up to Titanus, give him a stern look, and say, "Bad dinosaur! You spit that out now!"