The Bride Wore Black Leather (30 page)

When we finally pulled up alongside the great hole in the ground where the Bar used to be, it all looked exactly as it had before. Big and ugly and completely lacking in any supernatural energies. We all got out of the MINI Cooper, moved over to the edge of the hole, and stared down into it. No difference at all. Just a hole, where something marvellous used to be. Something about the scene bothered me, and I realised it was the quiet. I looked quickly about me. Most of the watching crowd had disappeared, gone in search of something more interesting to look at. Never any lack of that to be had, in the Nightside. And . . . “Why aren’t there any naked people here?” I said suddenly.

Cathy gave me a sideways look. “Should there be? Were you expecting naked people; or are you at a funny age, boss?”

“I mean the Tantric Troops,” I said. “The Authorities’ new attack dogs. They were all over the place here before.”

“Oh, them,” Dennis said wisely. “The Fuck Buddies. Oh yes, my dears, we’ve all heard about them. Talk about making a virtue out of a necessity . . . Last I heard, the remaining Authorities had scattered them across the Nightside, looking for you, Mr. Taylor. After all; it’s not like there’s much here for them to guard . . .”

I nodded and went back to looking into the hole. “I was here before, with Julien. Talking about the Bar’s sudden disappearance. And I can’t help feeling I’m missing something . . .”

I took the book out of my inside pocket, and leafed quickly through it. Cathy frowned slowly.

“Does that book, by any chance, come from where I think it does?” she said. “From, in fact, the much-respected and even-more-feared HPL?”

“I borrowed it, for a while,” I said. “Unofficially. Without telling anybody. Though they’ve probably noticed by now.”

Cathy was already shaking her head. “You’re a lot braver than I am, boss. They’ll send the Library Policemen after you. The big men, with hammers.”

“I have more pressing things to worry about,” I said, still flipping quickly through the pages. It was all very familiar. I’d read it all before. I knew everything that was in the book; so what was I missing? And then I stopped, as a very familiar phrase jumped out at me. The Bar burned down in 1970, possibly in self-immolation as a protest against the breaking up of the Beatles, then came back as a ghost of itself. The Hawk’s Wind
chose
to come back! That was the answer, right there! The Bar made a conscious decision to return, which meant the building was sentient. Not just a ghost image of a missing place but a conscious entity in its own right! That’s why the Bar was able to be so solid and hold aspects of the sixties within itself. And as a real, sentient, ghost personality . . . I should be able to ask it questions and get some answers.

I slammed the book shut, put it away, and quickly explained my thinking to Cathy and Dennis. They both nodded quickly—Cathy excitedly, Dennis reluctantly. I looked out over the empty hole.

“Den-Den; can you . . . ?”

“I’ve been trying ever since we got here, Mr. Taylor; and I can’t feel a thing. Wherever the Bar’s gone, it’s way out my reach.”

So I had no choice but to raise my gift again. It didn’t come easily. It was like lifting a dead weight, then forcing it to do tricks. But I made it work, through sheer will-power, and reached out with my gift to find the Hawk’s Wind Bar & Grille and call it back.

It really was only a ghost, this time. A grey, semi-transparent shape, its colours a faded memory, with transparent walls, through which could be seen dark human figures, standing or sitting at tables, very still. All the people trapped inside when the Bar was forced out of Time and Space. It was a very tenuous, very flimsy manifestation; but it was quite definitely there, right in front of me. I could sense its presence, feel its living, conscious thoughts . . . but I couldn’t understand them. The Bar might be a sentient thing, but it wasn’t in any way human. How the hell was I going to get any answers out of it?”

I turned to Dennis, but he was already shaking his head. “Wery sorry, Mr. Taylor, but I only work with deceased peoples.”

“Try!” I said, very coldly. “Because every damned soul in the Nightside is depending on us, right now, and if we screw this up . . .”

And then I stopped, as one of the dark figures inside the ghostly Bar rose abruptly from its table, then walked slowly through the Bar to the front door. None of the other figures moved, or even acknowledged it. The front door opened of its own accord, and the dark figure stood there, in the doorway. It looked at me. A cold hand took hold of my heart, and squeezed it tight. I knew that face. I hadn’t known Julien Advent back in the sixties, but he hadn’t changed at all. I wasn’t even born then, but he looked exactly the same. He spoke to me; but it was the voice and words of the Hawk’s Wind, speaking through the sixties incarnation of the Great Victorian Adventurer.

I could tell.

“The Sun King didn’t remove me from this reality,” said the Bar, through Julien’s mouth. “The Entities from Beyond did it.”

“The Aquarians?” I said. My mouth was very dry.

“That’s not their name. They removed me from the world because I’m the only part of the Nightside that the Sun King cares about. He went along with it because the Entities said it was important to remove the people held within me; but they lied.”

“How do you know what the Entities want?” I said carefully.

“Because you can’t hide the truth from the dead,” said the Bar. “Many things about the world become so much clearer, once you’re dead. Especially if you’ve chosen not to depart, just yet.”

“How did you become . . . conscious?” I said.

The sixties Julien actually smiled, briefly. “You should have been here, in the sixties. It was all going on.”

“Why is the Sun King so determined to bring about the end of the night, and the Nightside?” I said.

“Because he wants to bring back the great Dream of the sixties, and the Nightside is everything he disapproves of. He’s always had a very limited perception of what Dreams are. You can’t force them on people. He also wants everyone else to bow down to him, and admit that his Dream is better than theirs. Even if he won’t admit it to himself. He’s still very human.”

I nodded slowly. So far, it all sounded plausible enough. Ghosts know everything because the world can’t hide anything from them, any more. The trick is to get ghosts to tell you the truth. Because the dead always have their own agendas. Hopefully, the Hawk Wind’s interests were the same as mine, in this case.

“The Entities are lying to the Sun King,” said the Bar, in Julien Advent’s voice. “They always were. And they never were what he thought they were. Everything he does, he does to serve them and their true instincts. They will destroy me, and everyone trapped inside me, eventually. They’re only holding on to us now in case the Sun King should waver. We are hostages to his fortune. The Entities aren’t what he thinks they are.”

“Then what are they?” I said. “Really?”

“Hungry,” said the Hawk’s Wind.

“Boss?” Cathy said quietly. “What’s it saying? I can’t hear anything!”

I looked at her, then at Dennis, who shook his head quickly. “I can see the ghost but not hear it,” said Dennis, sounding more than a little put-out. “A wery fascinating presence, quite unlike anything I’ve ever encountered before. And I’ve been around. In more ways than one. So I am moved to ask, How is it you can hear it, Mr. Taylor, and I can’t?”

“I told you,” I said. “I trained with old Carnacki. And he knew all sorts of things he never shared with the Institute that took his name.” I looked back at the Julien Advent shade in the doorway. It hurt to look at him, knowing he was as dead as the Bar now. Thanks to me. “Why did the Entities allow the Sun King to return?”

“Because he’s ready. Programmed and primed, to do what they want. And, because the Droods are gone. The whole family, gone in a moment. Only Eddie remains, the last Drood. Arthur Pendragon and the London Knights are also gone, off fighting the good fight in another dimension. When they try to return, they will find the Entities have closed and sealed the dimensional gates behind them. And the Carnacki Institute . . . is preoccupied with its own problems. There are still certain individuals who might hope to stand against the Entities: the Walking Man, the Regent of Shadows, the Detective Inspectre. But by the time they can come together, it will be too late. The Entities will be in control. That leaves only you, John Taylor.”

“How do I stop them?” I said urgently. “How do I stop the Sun King?”

“Show him what the Entities really are,” said the ghost. “Show him what they really mean to do with this world. And what they really think of his precious Dream. He’s still asleep. Wake him up.”

The sixties Julien Advent turned his back on me and walked into the Bar. The door closed itself. And despite everything I could do to hold on to it, the Hawk’s Wind Bar & Grille slowly and silently vanished, and was gone.

“You couldn’t have hung on a little longer?” I said angrily. “Not for one more question? Like, Where is the bloody Sun King? Where can I find him?”

“Boss,” said Cathy. “You’re shouting at empty air. And freaking us all out. I mean, I’m sure it’s all very therapeutic, but . . .”

“I thought the Entities took the Bar because that was where they intended to break through,” I said. “But I was wrong. I was so sure I’d find the Sun King here, but . . .”

“What did the Bar tell you?” said Cathy.

“Not what I needed to know. Think, think . . . Where is the Sun King, right now? Where would he go, to raise the sun and bring down the Nightside?”

“He needs a weak spot,” said Cathy. “So where’s the oldest place in the Nightside? What’s been here longest, boss?”

“Of course!” I said. “St. Jude’s! That was here before it was a church, before Christianity even got started!”

“Then that’s where he’ll be,” said Cathy.

She was right, of course. The oldest and most powerful spot in the Nightside was also its weakest because it had been around so long. The church is one of the few places on Earth where the physical world can make direct contact with the spiritual world. Could the Sun King use that as a doorway, a way to break in and out? Maybe. Some days, all you can do is wing it.

I didn’t want to go to St. Jude’s; but I couldn’t tell Cathy why. Because Suzie might still be there. I hadn’t told Cathy about Suzie. How could I? But I had to go there. I had to go to St. Jude’s, right now . . . and all I could do was hope that Suzie was somewhere else, hunting me down.

My back twinged briefly, where she’d shot me once, long ago.

I turned abruptly to Dennis. “All right, that’s it. Turned out I didn’t need you after all, Den-Den. Go on back to your club. I think I’ve enjoyed about as much of your company as I can stand.”

“Lots of people say that,” said Dennis. “Glad to have been of service. Be assured I bear no ill will at being dragged out of my wery own bar, hauled half-way across the Nightside, only to find I’m not needed. Perish the thought! I suppose a lift back’s out of the question?”

“What do you think?” I said.

He gave me a look of sleazy dignity. “Your mother knits socks in Hell.”

And he turned and strode away. That’s Den-Den for you. Always knows exactly how far he can push it.

“Boss,” said Cathy. “Your eyes are bleeding.”

I put a hand to my face, and the fingers came away bloody. I could see the blood, but I couldn’t feel it. Cathy handed me a handkerchief, and I mopped roughly at my face till the bleeding stopped. Crying tears of blood was not a good sign. I couldn’t keep on using my gift like this. It was killing me by inches. I offered Cathy her handkerchief back; but she looked at the bloody mess and shook her head quickly. I tucked the handkerchief away in an inside pocket. Not the kind of thing you want to leave lying around, in the Nightside. There’s a lot you can achieve with someone else’s blood, little of it good. When I looked at Cathy again, she was looking at me as though she was already buying the wreath.

“Boss,” said Cathy. “What’s happening to you? You look like shit. You look like death warmed up and allowed to congeal.”

“It’s the gift,” I said, as steadily as I could. “You go to the well too often, you get blood instead of water. I’ll last. I’ve still got things to do.”

“We need to get you back to Strangefellows,” said Cathy. “Alex has all kinds of stuff there that will put you right.”

“No,” I said. “I think I’ve gone beyond anything Alex can help me with. It doesn’t matter. We have to get to St Jude’s. That’s got to be Ground Zero. You don’t have to come with me, Cathy.”

“Yes I do,” she said sturdily. “I’m damned if I’ll let anyone interfere with the wedding preparations for tomorrow. You promised I could be maid of honour, and I’m holding you to it.” She stopped, and looked at me thoughtfully. “Do you suppose . . . the Lord of Thorns will be there?”

“I’m banking on it,” I said. “He’s the only weapon I’ve got left.”

TEN

Truths and Consequences

St. Jude’s is still the only real church in the Nightside, tucked away in an area where nobody goes and a hell of a long way from the Street of the Gods. Because St Jude’s is the real deal. It’s only an old, cold, stone structure, built so long ago no-one remembers when, with featureless grey walls, unmarked by time or weather or the designs of man. No tower, no bell, no crucifix on display, a few slit windows, here and there, and one narrow doorway. St Jude’s isn’t meant to be easy to find or easy to enter. This is a church where you can talk directly with your god, and expect to be heard. And, more worryingly, answered. Dreams can come true, and miracles can happen. So be very careful what you ask for.

I had Cathy park the MINI Cooper some distance away from the church, and after she’d locked it up and armed the defences, we left the car where it was and made our way slowly, and carefully, and hopefully very quietly, down the long, narrow street that led to the church. St. Jude’s stood grim and alone in the moonlight. There was no-one else about, and even the ever-present roar of traffic seemed faded and far-away. As though we had come to a whole new place, where everyone kept their heads down to avoid being noticed. It’s one thing to pray to God when you’re in trouble; it’s quite another to have Him take a personal interest in you.

St. Jude’s stood alone because it liked it that way. It existed in its own small and very private world, and always had.

“You really think the Sun King won’t hear us coming?” said Cathy. “It’s so quiet here you could hear a mouse thinking about farting.”

“Why make it easy for him?” I said. “I’ve reached the stage where I’ll take any advantage I can get my hands on.”

Cathy gave me a sideways look. “You really believe all this living-god crap, boss?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve met powers and dominations in my time, and any number of gods and demons, but the Sun King . . . is something else. When he says he wants to change the world, he’s not being metaphorical. Look how easily he turned the whole of the Nightside against me. Even my mother couldn’t do that during the Lilith War; and she’s a Biblical Myth.”

Even as we drew near St. Jude’s, keeping alert for any sound or sight of the Sun King, I was still keeping a careful watch on Cathy. If she was going to betray me, this would be the perfect time and place. I didn’t want to believe that, didn’t even want to think that; but after Suzie . . . I didn’t know what to believe any more. But all the way up the narrow road, right up to the church itself, Cathy said nothing, did nothing but stick close by my side, ready for anything. I felt ashamed to have doubted her. She always was a better person than me.

We stopped a few yards short and looked the place over. St. Jude’s looked solid and implacable, as always, ancient and immovable, something you could trust and believe in. Not for mercy or compassion, or even justice; St, Jude’s stood for the truth. Because St. Jude’s was the one true thing in an ever-changing world.

“What the hell are you suddenly smiling at?” said Cathy. “If there’s anything funny here, I missed it. This whole location is creeping me out, big-time.”

“St. Jude’s,” I said. “Patron saint of lost causes. How appropriate.”

“You’re weird, boss.”

Strange lights blazed through the slit windows of the old church, stark, unrelenting lights that cut through the surrounding gloom like knives. More of the fierce light shone from the open door; pushing back the night like the glare from an open furnace. You only had to look at the light to know it wasn’t of this world. This was light from Outside, light seen from the other side.

“The Lord of Thorns has got to be here. Hasn’t he?” said Cathy, uneasily. “There’s no way he’d allow anyone to misuse the church.”

“I am sort of depending on his being here,” I admitted. “He’s one of the biggest guns I know, in the powers business. But look at the place. I can’t see the Lord of Thorns putting up with this . . . But then, I can’t see the Sun King being powerful enough to drive the Lord of Thorns out, either.”

“So how powerful is the Sun King, boss?”

“He’s as powerful as the Entities from Beyond need him to be,” I said. “And they . . . are starting to worry me.”

“The Lord of Thorns has always worried me,” said Cathy. “He represents all the aspects of God most people don’t want to think about. I’ve never been too sure what he really is, or what he’s really for.”

“I have had long conversations with him, on that very point,” I said. “And I have to say I’m no wiser. I need him to be on my side, one more time. Because I’m running out of options.” I looked at the light streaming out of the slit windows and shuddered briefly, as though something had pissed on my grave. “I don’t want to believe the Sun King can go head to head with the Lord of Thorns. If the Entities from Beyond can slap him down, we are all in deep doo-doo.”

“You can say shit, boss,” said Cathy. “It’s all right. I’m all grown-up.”

And then the Sun King popped his head out of the open front door and smiled engagingly at us.

“You can stop muttering and sneaking about. I’ve known you were there for ages. Come on in! The Entities weren’t sure you’d get here after all the crap I rained down on you, but no, I said, John Taylor will be here, for the finale. Because you really are a stubborn little soul, aren’t you, John?”

“Oh he is,” said Cathy. “Really. You have no idea.”

The Sun King looked at her doubtfully. “And this is . . . ?”

“Cathy,” I said. “She works with me.”

The Sun King shrugged, beckoned for us to enter St. Jude’s, and disappeared back inside the church. And after only a moment’s hesitation, I led the way in after him. Unarmed and unprepared, but doing my best to look cocky and confident because you never let the opposition know they’ve got you worried. The light at the doorway was sharp, even sinister, and painfully bright. Light with all the warmth and goodness taken out of it. I screwed up my eyes and strode straight into the light, doing my best to look like I knew what I was doing.

I made a point of stopping just inside the church, to let my vision clear. I couldn’t afford to seem weak or helpless. Cathy stayed close beside me, as I looked unhurriedly round the church, taking my time. The interior hadn’t changed, but then it never does. Two rows of blocky wooden pews, with a narrow central aisle leading down to the great slab of ancient stone at the far end, covered in a cloth of white samite. A simple altar, for a simple church. No statues, no stained-glass windows, not even a pulpit. Nothing but the essentials. Nothing to distract you from what you came here for. Faith and worship at their most basic and brutal. There were rows of candles to every side, none of them lit. There was only the awful light, which seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Light from Outside; from where the Entities from Beyond were.

The Sun King was lounging lazily against the altar; smiling happily, even arrogantly. The smile of a man who knows he’s already won and is waiting for you to notice, so he can indulge in a little quiet preening and gloating. His Coat of Vivid Colours looked over-bright and even gaudy in the new light. Or perhaps it always had, and I needed to see it in its proper setting to realise. The Sun King pushed his tinted granny glasses down his nose, so he could peer at me over the top of them. His eyes were full of childish mischief and a terrible certainty.

“All the time and trouble it took you, to get here,” he said. “And all of it for nothing. You even found time to pick up a girl side-kick! I am impressed. But there’s nothing you can do to stop me now, or even slow me down. It’s all going to happen right here, in this most ancient of places, where the Nightside had its beginnings.”

“I know,” I said. “I was there, when it happened.”

The Sun King looked at me uncertainly, then shrugged. “You do get around, don’t you, Mr. Taylor? It doesn’t matter. I will raise the sun, and the dawn will come, and the longest night in the world will finally come to an end.”

“Girl side-kick? You arrogant little tosser! You don’t mess with my boss!”

Cathy had a very large pistol in her hand, aimed right at the Sun King’s chest. I grabbed her arm and pulled it down, then wrestled with Cathy till I was sure she wasn’t going to try that again. She stopped fighting me, breathing hard, and glared at me. I glared right back at her.

“Why not, boss? Give me one reason why not?”

“You really think a bullet is going to stop him? Or the Entities behind him? He could turn you inside out just by looking at you! Where did you get hold of a gun, anyway? No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.”

“Suzie gave it to me.”

“Of course she did. Please, Cathy, as a personal favour to me, put the gun away. Before he decides to do something amusing to it. Or you.”

Cathy snarled but made the gun disappear somewhere about her person again. I had to lean on the nearest pew for a moment. Even the brief struggle with Cathy had taken a lot out of me. There wasn’t a lot left in me to draw on. Cold sweat beaded my face, and my legs were trembling. I could barely feel the rough ancient wood of the pew, under my hands.

“Not looking too good there, John,” the Sun King said cheerfully. “In fact, I’d have to say you were looking pretty shit. Been having a hard time, have you? Getting near the bottom of the barrel? I knew there was a reason why I had the Entities mess you up and drive you round the Nightside like a mad thing. Killing you would have been far too kind. I wanted you to catch up with me and be here for my final triumph. Because it’s never enough to break your opponents; they have to admit they’ve been beaten.”

“That’ll be the day,” I said. I pushed myself upright and turned away from the pew, with an effort I hoped wasn’t too obvious. I met the Sun King’s gaze steadily.

“You made it as difficult as you could, but I’m still here. And I will stop you.”

“How did it feel, John?” said the Sun King. “Having to kill your old friend, Julien Advent?”

I heard Cathy’s breath catch in her throat. “You killed him, John? You really did kill him?”

“I need you to trust me, Cathy,” I said, not looking round. “I have no right to ask it of you, but . . .”

“Of course you do. You risked your life to save me. Nothing else matters. You can fill me in on the details later.”

“Yes. I promise I’ll tell you everything, later.” I took a step towards the Sun King. “I did what I had to do. I’ve always been able to do the hard, necessary thing.”

“Yes, but how did it feel, John? Did it break your heart? Well, now you know how I feel. The world, the future that I gave my heart and soul to, betrayed me by not becoming what it was supposed to.”

“Wallow in self-pity on your own time,” I said. “Where’s the Lord of Thorns?”

The Sun King shrugged easily. “I had the Entities lure him away, with urgent news. Though I can’t believe anyone his age still believes in angels. Only room for one living god in this church, and that’s me.”

“But why here?” said Cathy bluntly. “Come on; you know you want to tell us. Your sort always likes to make speeches and justify yourself.”

“Girl side-kicks should be seen and not heard,” said the Sun King. “If they like having their tongues attached. But she’s right, John; I always have loved addressing an audience. Those were my happiest days, preaching in Haight-Ashbury. So why St. Jude’s? Because this particular place was here before the Nightside was here. A holy place, where Heaven touched Earth, briefly, and made a connection. This location was sacred long before someone built a church here, and made it Christian with a saint’s name. Think of St. Jude’s as a conduit, where here meets the hereafter. Where reality itself can be overwritten, by a greater power.

“I will call on the Aquarians, and they will fill me with their power, in this place where miracles happen and dreams come true. I will bring the sun here, and let the sun shine in, and it will shed its natural light over this unnatural darkness and make it what it should always have been. Sunnyside! Let us all hail the Age of Aquarius, and the soul’s true liberation! All things shall be made well, all hurts healed, and good things will happen every day.”

“You can’t do that,” I said.

He glared at me, irritated at being interrupted in midflow. “Oh, I think you’ll find I can. I must. I have to save the world. From itself, if need be.”

“You don’t understand!” I said. “You’ve never understood how important the Nightside is, just as it is! We are the last-ditch defence, against things like the Aquarians, or whatever they really are. What the good guys can’t do, we will. The Nightside is here to do whatever needs doing, to defend Humanity, and the world. Your Aquarian masters need you to destroy us, so they can invade our reality. You must see that! They’re not Entities, they’re Enemies!”

At the end I was shouting at him, but he didn’t flinch. None of it touched him. He smiled coldly, condescendingly.

“You’re so desperate now you’d say anything, anything at all to stop me, wouldn’t you? Well, tough. Here comes the Sun.”

At that moment, the shotgun blast hit him square in the chest, punching him right off his feet, and backwards over the stone altar. Blood flew on the air, and the Sun King hit the floor behind the altar. He hit it hard, and didn’t move again. And while the sound of the shotgun blast was still ringing on the close air of the church, I turned to look; and there was Shotgun Suzie, my Suzie, standing behind me. Smoke still rising from both barrels of her pump-action shotgun. She stood tall and proud in her black motorcycle leathers, my blonde-haired Valkyrie. She smiled at me.

“You didn’t really think I’d leave you to do all this on your own, did you?”

“I thought you’d never get here,” I said. Because I had to say something.

Suzie racked new shells into place and strode forward to join me, tilting the gun up and back to rest on her leather-clad shoulder. I made myself stand very still. Hope was a small and fragile thing in my heart, and I didn’t want to do anything to disturb it.

“I knew someone would be listening in on my phone,” she said, in her cool, calm voice. “It’s what I would have done. So I said what they expected me to say. And once everyone knew I was pursuing you for the bounty on your head, most of the other would-be bounty hunters quietly dropped out of the race. Rather than go up against me. I’ve been trailing you at a distance for ages, taking out anyone who looked like getting too close. You’ve no idea how many times I’ve saved your life, tonight. You didn’t even notice, did you? All caught up in the thrill of the chase. You always did need me to watch your back. And now here we are, at the end of the trail. Together again.” She cocked her head slightly to one side. “You’re being very quiet, John. You didn’t really think I’d turned against you, did you?”