The Mysteries of Holly Diem (Unknown Kadath Estates Book 2) (28 page)

It was hard to see what happened, and harder still to
explain. Elijah didn’t move at all, except to cross his arms and laugh. It was
his shadow – and the moment it moved, it revealed itself as patently false as a
Hollywood set painting. It was camouflage and habitat both for the parasite
that used Elijah as a host. There was a rush of darkness, a strange bending of
dimensions, and then something like an explosion, a tremendous rush of energy
directed at April, who brought up her arms to protect her face. The force of
the impact rattled the walls and worked up a cloud of dust and debris. Forced
to close my eyes, I tried to blink away the grit.

When my vision cleared, there was nothing but shadow
where April had been. These shadows were craven, insatiable, and
sharp
.
These shadows had teeth. They swirled like a dust devil around the room, and
everywhere they touched felt like alcohol sprayed on my skin, a burning cold
that left blisters and sores in its wake.

It must have ended, eventually.

The caged lightbulb buzzed and whined back to life and
the counterfeit shadows congregated within Elijah’s shadow, and in the depths
of his nothing-head.

April swayed with exhaustion, the scissors hanging
loosely from her limp fingers.

The predatory shadows had reduced her clothing to rags
and singed her hair. The skin beneath her shredded clothing was covered in a
dense mesh of marker script. Looking closer, I saw the same thing beneath the
various rips and tears in her clothing – a single symbol, written with black
paint pen in varying size, in a steady and elegant hand that could only be
April’s own.

“The Yellow Sign,” April said, examining her shredded
outfit sadly. “Weaponized Linguistics; first year, second semester.” She
pointed the tip of scissors at his left eye. “Are you pleased with me, tutor?
Have I earned a pat on the head?”

Elijah took a pocket watch from a suit pocket,
examined it, and sighed heavily.

“I am, and you have.” He fit the Pallid Mask across
his face, and then began to tie it in place. “Unfortunately, I have other
obligations which must be addressed.”

“You’re leaving? What was the point in all this, then?”

“I’m afraid that I must leave,” Elijah said, stroking
his hairless chin. “In any case, all I truly needed was to remove the both of
you from the Estates. Perhaps my method wasn’t ideal, but taking Mr. Tauschen
was effective nonetheless, wouldn’t you say?”

“You’re testing me; aren’t you, tutor?”

“Of course!” He sounded overjoyed. “The world is a
laboratory that you will never escape, Subject Nineteen.”

Her eyes narrowed. A vein in the side of her neck
throbbed along with her pulse.

“Where did you hear that, Elijah?”

“The King in Yellow; he whispers secrets to me, in the
dark, so that I can never fall asleep. Terrible, scalding secrets.” Elijah opened
the grating to the dormant potbelly stove, and then climbed inside, collapsing his
legs beneath him like a spider to fit through the narrow opening. The Pallid
Mask smiled out of the sooty darkness inside the stove. “You will understand
soon enough. Or never. It’s the same thing, really.”

April settled slowly to the floor, her legs curled
beneath her. Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Where are you going, tutor?”

“Another hint?” His tone was incredulous, but he paused
in the act of stuffing himself into the impossibly small confines of the
stovepipe. “Very well; only because you are my favorite. You and Preston have
come to rely on the sanctity of the Unknown Kadath Estates, have you not?”

He studied us in turn, eyes as false as Madeleine
Diem’s doll eyes.

“That was lazy and arrogant. What do you know of the
witch who calls it home? Or,” he added, with relish, “her loyalties?”

Then he was gone, up the stovepipe and then
theoretically out of the chimney on the roof, a grotesque reverse Santa Claus.

April stumbled across the room, and then collapsed into
my lap. She lifted my chin so she could look into my swollen, aching eyes.

“You forgot about me, didn’t you, Preston?”

She let it hang there for a moment, and then she leaned
her forehead against my chest. Her arms snaked around my waist, and I felt the cold
brass of the scissors brush against my wrists. I held my breath. A snipping
sound, and then my hands were miraculously free.

“How did you…?”

“Holly. Told me where to find you.”

Of course. The scissors. I remembered Holly using them
to trim a dead plant in front of the Estates a day or two earlier – and I also
recalled how Madeleine Diem lost her eyes, so many years before, at the Diem
family home. I wondered if this particular pair had originally belonged to one
of the Diem sisters, passed on from Holly to April as...who knew. A joke? A game?

“Fix this, Preston.” April commanded, the scissors
slipping from her fingers to the tile, strands of her damp hair in my mouth.
“Fix it all.”

“Of course.” I moved my limbs experimentally,
calculating damage. My eyes and brain felt bleached and scalded, and my stomach
and hip throbbed, but I was surprisingly intact, otherwise. “What do you want
me to do?”

“They hurt Sumire.” I folded my arms around her, to
protect her from falling. Between the rents and tears in her clothing, I could
see smeared marker and sweat-marred sigils. Her eyes fluttered as she fought to
stay awake long enough to whisper to me. “Hurt them for it. Hurt
everyone
.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean it!” April seized my arm, nails digging
painfully into my skin. “You-know-who included. Make them all sorry.”

Momentary hesitation on my part. Did she notice?

“Okay.”

“Make them understand, Preston.” Her voice was little
more than a whisper, her eyes closed and twitching behind lids smeared with
marker, her body slack and slippery in my arms. “I need to take a nap, now.”

I really felt a lot better, with clear instructions.

The finality of dreaming.     

It is extremely difficult to find a cab in the Nameless City. With
bloodstained attire and an unconscious girl in my arms wearing torn clothes, it
became an impossible task. My phone was long lost, but I found April phone in
the ruins of her jacket.

The log recorded only incoming calls, all from my
number, Sumire’s number, and another that I didn’t recognize. The directory was
empty, as were the text logs and browsing history. There were no stored photos
or contact information. I felt a little surge of pride in April’s tradecraft.

I started with Sumire, whose number rang unto
infinity.

It took a feat of memory to recall any of my
neighbor’s phone numbers. I started with Holly, and got a sultry voicemail
greeting after four rings. I debated the wisdom of leaving a message, then hung
up, still uncertain how much to trust the morally ambiguous owner of the
Estates. Dawes went to voicemail. Short on options, it took me four tries to
remember her phone number, but she picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Yael, I need help,” I said, not realizing how bad I
sounded until I heard an echo of my voice on her end. “April needs help. We’re
in Iram.”

“So am I.” Yael sounded worried. “Where are you?”

The Nameless City isn’t big on street signs, and GPS
is always “Processing.” I slung April over my shoulders, fireman style,
ignoring increasingly agitated chatter from the pedestrians we passed. I’m a
pretty big guy, and circumstances conspired to make my look even less friendly,
but eventually someone would work up the courage to intervene – or even manage
the impossible, and find a cop in the Nameless City.

“Near the central pillars,” I said, breathing hard
beneath April’s forty-odd kilos. The cold air stung my exposed gums every time
I opened my mouth. “Not far from the river. A main street. Providence, maybe?”

“Stay on the line,” Yael commanded. “I’m coming to
you. Keep an eye out for Sumire or me. The Cats, too.”

“Cats?”

“Ulthar. Called in some favors. Everyone is out
hunting for you. Even Jenny Frost promised to look.”

“Wait, what?”

“I know, I know. Jenny isn’t as bad as everyone
thinks, you know.”

Oh, I knew. Jenny was much worse than anyone
suspected.

I adjusted April on my back, and shot an evil glare at
a loud guy in a suit who trailed me for the last couple of blocks, yelling into
his cell phone. I had a head full of angles, calculating for maximum advantage.

Yael had no idea how Elijah nabbed me, or that Jenny
was working for…someone else. Madeleine, probably? Or his shadowy benefactor –
the Yellow King, was it? Either way, she wasn’t involved out of charity or
malice. Jenny Frost had an agenda.

There were all sorts of implications to that, assuming
I could avoid a spontaneous lynching. The crowd noise behind me was angry, and
growing more confident.

“Where did you go running off to, anyway?”

“Sorry about that,” Yael said, her voice thin across
the noisy connection. “I thought I saw Elijah…or his mask, anyway.”

“I think maybe you did.”

I took a moment to bring Yael up to speed. She took it
rather well, all things considered.

“Elijah…tortured you? With paintings?”

“With
etchings
.”

“How awful.” Yael sounded thoughtful. “Professor Dawes
mentioned something like that, once – art that becomes a window onto something
awful – or, worse, a door.”

“Yeah, he said something about the Yellow King doing
him a favor…”

“The King in Yellow,” Yael corrected tersely. “Such
very bad news. Any luck on the street names?”

“I don’t fu…I don’t know. Everything looks the same.
These big sandstone pillars everywhere; jewelry stores, watch stores, nice
cars, a mob on my heels…”

There, on the other end of the block, beyond a shopping
mall with a rotating door and dizzying array of mirrored neon light fixtures. She
dragged her sneakers along the pavement as she walked. The mockery of a dog at
her heels was monstrous and emaciated, a full set of ribs on either side
complementing a mouthful of scraggly yellow teeth. Jenny saw me and grimaced,
shook her head, and then approached me grudgingly, hands buried in her ragged
red hoodie.

On the other end of the line, Yael made interrogative
noises, but I hung up before she could hear anything.

This would have to be fast.

“Hey, Preston.” Jenny popped her gum and ran her dirty
fingers through her filthy hair, while Fenrir growled and eyed me hungrily. “Yael
has everybody looking for you…”

“I bet. Who are you working for?”

She tried on a surprised expression. It fit Jenny as
badly as everything else did.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you kicked the shit out of me! Again!”

“Aha.” Jenny shrugged. “You’re pissed.”

“Just a little. Now be straight with me. Who put you
up to this?”

“I dunno,” she said, with a grimace. “Maybe I blacked
out, or something. Don’t remember.”

“Look, Jenny,” I sighed. “In a minute your little friend
Yael is going to call back. I have to tell her
something
. So try not to
be a bitch for five minutes, okay? You jumped me at Elijah Pickman’s behest.
Why?”

Jenny’s eyes darted about like those of a cornered
animal.

“It wasn’t a big thing,” she said, eyes downcast and
cagey. “Just an opportunity. I don’t like you, Preston.”

“I know it. Why work for Elijah, though? He need a
homicidal vagrant, and see your ad online?”

“I don’t need a reason when it comes to you, Preston.”
Jenny worked her jaw from side to side. “Even if I did – Elijah paid in
advance.”

“How do you even know Elijah?”

“Remember Neil?” Jenny sneered. “Lots of the kids at
Carter take ADD meds. Competitive environment, or what-fucking-ever.”

“What about Yael? You weren’t worried about betraying
your noble-minded friend?”

“For fuck’s sake, Preston,” Jenny whined. “I had no
idea she was involved when Elijah hired me. I don’t ask for references,
asshole.”

“Language, remember?” I wanted to laugh, despite
everything, but it seemed like a bad time. “When Elijah came to you to arrange
my abduction, though, you knew that I was working with Yael…”

“Damn it!” Jenny punched the shop wall, barely wincing
as her knuckles bounced off the concrete. “Elijah and his creepy aunt promised
they’d leave Yael out of it, if I helped them out with you, okay?”

I had suspected something like that – even as I
wondered if it were actually true. Not that it mattered.

“You did it to protect Yael, then?”

“Sorta.” Jenny shrugged and looked away. “I mean, they
paid me. Obviously.”

I attempted to size her up. Even if it was the truth,
I figured it was less than the whole truth. My phone was already buzzing in my
back pocket, though, so I didn’t have time for any more questions.

“I won’t say a word to anyone,” I lied, while she
helped me lean April up against a wall. “I won’t say anything to Yael, about
you. About us. Any of it.”

The bitterness on Jenny’s face almost made the whole
day worth it.

“What’s got you in such a fucking generous mood? What
do you want from me in return?”

Jenny spat the words out like spoiled milk.

“A truce. An even score, okay? You lay off April and
me, permanently.”

She chomped on her gum and weighed my offer.

“Sure.”

“Good.” I gestured at April, and the buzzing crowd gathering
around us. The addition of a woman to the situation partially mollified the onlookers,
and the seemingly rabid dog encouraged them to keep their distance, but it was
a precarious situation. “How do we get out of here?”

Jenny sneered, and then stepped out into the street,
disregarding the oncoming traffic. She glanced up and down the street, until
she located a taxi, about a block away. She put two fingers in her mouth, emitting
a shrill whistle, jarring the cab out of his left turn. Jenny waved him down
impatiently.

Defying all logic and common sense, he headed right
over.

“See?” Jenny returned to the sidewalk, as my phone lit
up with Yael’s number. “How hard was that?”

I carried April to the backseat, and then got in the
other side; her head snuggled against my leg, snoring quietly. The taxi driver
watched nervously as I bled on his upholstery, but Jenny swung into the
passenger seat and shushed his objections. She proceeded to kick Fenrir
viciously in the ribs when he tried to follow.

“Get moving, asshole.” It wasn’t clear whether she was
talking to the cab driver or the dog, but they both obeyed. “The Empty
District, Kadath Estates. We gotta pick up one more on the way, though. She’s a
couple blocks over. I’ll point her out.”

Fenrir disappeared into an alleyway, bloodshot eyes
burning like an infection. The cab lurched out into traffic, apparently more
frightened of Jenny than collision. I sympathized.

The back seat became crowded when Yael joined us a few
minutes later, her windbreaker damp from a sudden burst of rain. She refused an
offer to sit in Jenny’s lap with a blush and a short remark; examined April and
myself with a practical sort of sympathy; and produced a first aid kit from her
bag, bless her uptight little heart.

I swallowed aspirin gratefully while Yael applied bandages
to April’s feet. Jenny fiddled with the radio, which naturally produced nothing
but cultist ranting, while the cab driver looked as if he wished he were
anywhere else. It was a thirty-minute drive in evening traffic, but the weighty
silence in the cab made it seem longer.

The moon sat atop the Empty District in open defiance
of the hour, fat as a pig and twice as smug. The cab driver babbled in an
archaic Romance language, pleading with us to get out of the cab. Jenny refused
with a laugh, while Yael was gentler, urging him softly to continue. Neither
approach bore fruit, as he came to a stop at the top of Leng Street. Jenny
reached calmly across him, releasing his seatbelt, and then opening the door
before he could object. He lunged for the handle, while she hit him with her
shoulder, forcing him out of the car and onto the pavement of Leng Street.
Jenny slid over into the driver’s seat; slammed the door twice, the first time
on the cabbie’s fingers, as he attempted to reclaim his car; and then shifted
back into drive and continued down Leng Street.

“Jenny! What are you doing?”

Yael lectured her the entire way; so pissed, she was
practically vibrating in her seat. Jenny absorbed it with silent bad humor.

“Hey,” Jenny said, pointing at the roof of the Estates
as we approached it. “What is that shit?”

Yael offered no correction.

On the roof, Sumire was in a defensive crouch, waiting
patiently, surrounded on all sides by the amoebic beings generally called
Toads. A black-sailed airship hung ten meters above the building, a Toad wriggling
bodily down a glistening cord as thin as fishing line, while another airship
departed heading east for the water, two blocks away and picking up speed.

We came to a screeching halt in front of the tarnished
silver gates of the Estates as a wave of Toads surged forward. Sumire met them
with open arms, sending the first smoothly over her hip and off the side of the
roof. The Toad collided with the pavement beside the car like a balloon filled
with gelatin. We abandoned the taxi in the middle of Leng Street and made for
the gate. My shoes squelched over the splattered remains of the Toad, and I
felt the goo squirm and flex, busily reconstituting itself. Yael unlocked the
gates and charged for the stairs, as another Toad plummeted down the breezeway,
bouncing off two walls before splattering against the courtyard.

I laid April beside the mailboxes, and a mewling
Lovecraft immediately took up residency, worrying over her and licking her
hands. I petted the old cat gratefully and followed Yael upstairs. The stairs
were murder on my tired legs, so the crowd had thinned out some by the time I burst
onto the roof. There was still a significant infestation of Toads, glistening
with mucous and making low croaking sounds. Voluminous robes and ornate
headgear did little to hide their disquieting forms. Eyeless faces tracked my
movements, purple appendages like tree roots extending from their mouths in
great bundles, darting about and testing the air. Yael stood beside the stairwell,
messing with some sort of mechanism. At the center of the roof, knee deep in
the ruins of Holly’s succulents, Sumire stood her ground, sweaty and cheerful,
egging on her opponents.

The Toads surged forward in unison. Sumire danced
effortlessly between mandibles and pseudopods, tentacles and toxic sprays. She
moved with the explosive grace of a gymnast, slipping attacks and parrying projectiles
with her mechanical arm. She evaded a Toad’s prehensile tongue and countered,
executing a snap shoulder throw that wrapped it around a chimney. She vaulted
over the next Toad, planting a hand on its gelatinous head and using it as a
springboard for a somersault that took her behind the crowd. Before the Toads could
turn and face her, she charged into the crowd, hitting the nearest Toad with a
lariat that nearly tore it in half. She tackled the next, mounting and
bludgeoning it with strikes about the head.