The Nekropolis Archives (40 page)

  "As the years passed, we slowly, cautiously began to shape the course of events in Nekropolis. Through our agents, we helped foment dissent between the Darklords, founded the Dominari and the Hidden Light, established street gangs, encouraged the growth of crime on all levels. We worked especially hard to make sure the Darklords did not cut off all contact with Earth. We wanted not only to make certain the Others had a way to leave our dimension, but that the developing technology from their former homeworld would continue to flow into the city to provide us more tools to fight with. And for the next two centuries, we gathered information, made contacts, manipulated, plotted, and schemed. And finally we saw our opportunity."

  "The Dawnstone," I said.

  "Gregor" nodded. "We have worked hard the last dozen or so years aiding the development of various thaumaturgically enhanced drugs such as tangleglow and mind dust. But when one of our agents created veinburn, a drug so powerful it would prove addictive even to the strongest of supernatural beings, we realized its awesome potential. As Gregor, we made arrangements with the Dominari to begin producing veinburn in limited quantities–"

  "And made sure Morfran, who was the supplier to a bloodson of a Darklord, distributed it."

  "Yes. Varma, indolent pleasure-seeker that he was, eagerly sampled Morfran's new product. And from that moment on, he was ours. By threatening to cut off his supply of veinburn, we convinced Varma to cooperate with us. He told us anything we wanted to know, all the secrets of his father that he was privy to. Including the contents of his vaunted Collection. And we learned of the Dawnstone.

  "We had acquired much mystical knowledge over the last few centuries, and were instantly aware of the potential a crystal that produced actual sunlight would have here in a city of darkness. The Renewal Ceremony was fast approaching, and we realized it would be the perfect time to strike, for if Dis and the Darklords could not revitalize Umbriel – the power source which actually maintains the existence of Nekropolis within this dimension – the city would be destroyed and we would finally have gotten rid of the hated Others."

  "So you had Varma steal the Dawnstone. After using your magical know-how to make sure his aura matched his father's so that he could get past Galm's wardspells."

  The insects were all around me now; I was surrounded by solid walls of them. Only the illumination of my flashlight protected me. Still, I did nothing.

  Gregor went on. "Varma delivered the Dawnstone, and we resumed his supply of veinburn. We saw no need to slay him at that time; there was no chance he would report his crime to Lord Galm, and we did not wish to draw any undue attention to the theft of the Dawnstone. Eventually, of course, it became necessary to have him killed in order to keep him from talking to you. He was a pathetic, weak creature, and would have told you everything with little prompting on your part.

  "We had previously managed to implant some pieces of ourself into one of Dis's Sentinels, and we realized we could use it to ferry the Dawnstone into the Nightspire and then, once inside, use it to attack Dis and disrupt the Renewal Ceremony."

  "So you stuck the Dawnstone inside the Sentinel, and waited for it to be recalled for the Ceremony. Tell me, why did you leave a scar on the Sentinel, even a faint one?"

  "Our mystic knowledge, gleaned as it has been in scattered fragments over the centuries, is less than complete. The spells Dis used to create the Sentinels were unfamiliar to us, and we could only partially heal the golem's flesh. We had no choice but to go forward with the plan and hope no one would notice."

  "I should have known it was you all along, Gregor. One of your children was on the wall listening when I first spoke with Devona. You were the only being in the city besides the two of us who knew we were investigating the theft of the Dawnstone, the only one who could have sent the Red Tide vampires to kill us after we left the Great Library."

  "We knew you, Matthew. You wouldn't let go of this until you saw it through to the end, one way or another. You had to be stopped. Ms. Kanti was of lesser importance. If she had been been killed, it would have been solely due to her association with you."

  "How did you manipulate the Red Tide members?"

  "They were pathetically simple-minded creatures. To secure their services, we had only to promise them unlimited access to whatever technology they wished. They were no different than Varma, in that regard. They cared only for seeing their lusts fulfilled. Vampires' need for blood tends to make them highly addictive personalities in other regards."

  "Thanks for the psychology lesson." The insects were only inches away from me now, and edging closer all the time. "I suppose you were behind all the attempts on our lives?"

  "Most of them. Through various agents, we made sure Thokk knew you were in the Broken Cross, and that Talaith was aware of your passage through her realm. And of course, we made certain the Red Tide vampires were waiting for you after you left here. We also had the Dominari order Yberio and Skully to kill you. Unfortunately, the warlock proved too weak for the task, and Skully prized your friendship more than he feared his masters."

  "And the insect we saw in the alley?"

  "An error. It was one which we had implanted in Varma in order to keep track of him. The sheer amount of veinburn the Red Tide vampires injected into Varma was enough to affect the child, and slow its escape long enough for you to see it."

  The writhing, softly chittering wall of darkness that surrounded my back and sides was only an inch away now. I knew if I swept my flashlight beam around, they would scurry off. But I kept the light shining at my feet. I wanted to lure as many of them into the basement as possible.

  "I understand why you misled us into thinking Talaith might be behind the Dawnstone's theft; you wanted to draw attention away from yourself. But why did you tell us the truth about Morfran being a veinburn supplier?"

  "Because the best lies are those mixed with some truth. And if the Red Tide vampires failed to kill you, we hoped that Morfran would lead you to Skully, who would finish you off. A hope that was in vain, as it turned out. It is a shame our plan failed, but we are nothing if not patient. We came close this time, and we shall succeed the next, whether it be tomorrow or a hundred years from now."

  "I'm glad to see you're maintaining an optimistic outlook."

  "We would have succeeded if not for you, Matthew. You have a fine, incisive mind and excellent instincts. Join us; help us free our home from the scourge of Others which infests it."

  "Help you?" I said incredulously. "After everything that's happened, everything you've done, how can you even ask such a thing?"

  "Because I have something to offer you, Matthew. I can make you mortal again."

  "You're lying."

  "The child Ms. Kanti hosted remained hidden in the Nightspire long enough to witness the Renewal Ceremony completed and Dis reward you for saving his city by removing your spirit from the Sentinel and restoring your body to you. But he didn't return you fully to life, did he?"

  "He said it was beyond his power, that I had been a zombie too long to make me human again."

  "Perhaps it is beyond the capabilities of Dis, but it is not beyond ours. Remember what you said when I asked you how you felt about being a zombie? You said you were a freak, trapped in a body that was little more than a numb piece of meat. Cut off from the world around you, on the outside of life. A pale memory of the man who was once Matthew Richter. We can end your suffering, Matthew. Help us destroy the invaders and we shall make you live again."

  I didn't respond.

  "Surely you have no love for this city or its inhabitants. Your kind regard them as monsters: unnatural, unholy things. You would be doing creation a favor by helping us destroy them."

  "After nearly two years as a walking dead man, it's hard to see others as monsters, Gregor."

  "Then consider it justice. This is our home; the Others are trespassers. They have no right to live in this dimension, no right to befoul it with their obscene otherness. Help us be rid of them, and we shall make you a man once more and use one of the Darklords' portals to return you to Earth. Perhaps you will not be able to resume your life where you left off, but at least you may begin a new one."

  "Sorry, Gregor, but I can't do that. Maybe Dis and the Darklords shouldn't have built Nekropolis here, but they did, and you didn't protest."

  "We did not understand! We knew nothing of otherness then! We did not know there were Others to protest to!"

  "Even so, the city and its people have been here for almost four centuries. Isn't it time you learned to co-exist with them?"

  "Impossible! Otherness can not be tolerated!"

  "Then there's nothing I can do for you, Gregor. I won't help you. In fact, I'll do everything I can to stop you."

  "You'll do nothing. It's a pity you won't join us, but that is your decision. You were foolish to come here alone, Matthew. We destroyed your body once, and we shall do so again – and this time there is no one to restore you. And don't think your flashlight will protect you. While we are creatures of this dark dimension and light does hurt us, there are far too many of us for your feeble beam to kill."

  "I don't intend to use my flashlight. And you're wrong, Gregor. I didn't come alone." I clicked off the light and was plunged into darkness.

  No insects swarmed over me as in the Nightspire. Instead, there was a rushing, moaning sound that made me think of a cold winter wind blowing across a blood-soaked battlefield. And then I heard the screaming of thousands upon thousands of tiny voices, the same as when I had shone the Dawnstone into the Sentinel's chest cavity, only multiplied to the nth degree.

  And then there was silence. I waited a few moments more, and then I turned the flashlight back on. Its beam revealed Father Dis, standing alone in the now empty basement.

  "Are they all gone?" I asked. I was grateful my flashlight had been turned off. I had no idea how Dis had destroyed the insects, and from the horrible sounds they had made while dying, I was certain I wanted to remain ignorant.

  "All that were present at this location. I fear many more remain within the city, however, and even if none do, there are uncountable millions more outside Phlegethon's boundaries. I seriously doubt we've heard the last of the Watchers." He sighed. "I was of course aware of them when I led my people to this dimension, but I thought them some sort of native animal life. I never realized they were intelligent. If I had… well, it's too late now, isn't it?"

  "Can't you do something? Like wave your hand in a godly gesture of omnipotence and smite them?"

  Dis smiled. "As I told you when I restored you, there are limits to even my powers. The vast majority of my strength is used to maintain Umbriel and Phlegethon. The Darklords help, of course, but far less than even they imagine. Still, there's no use in letting them know that; everyone likes to feel they're important, don't they?"

  "So you were telling the truth when you said you couldn't make me alive again?"

  Dis nodded. "Though I was able to see to it that you are in no danger of inevitably decomposing again, provided of course you keep up regular applications of preservative spells. Barring accidents, you might very well exist forever."

  Forever. The word had no meaning to me now. I wondered if it ever would. I figured I'd find out.

  I showed Dis the underside of my hand. "My little finger grew back when you restored me, but I still have Edrigu's mark."

  "Edrigu had a previous claim on you which I can do nothing about. Be careful what deals you make in Nekropolis, Matthew. They are always binding."

  "I figured you'd say something like that. One more thing: back at the Nightspire, that mural in the corridor…"

  "Yes?"

  "The first scene depicted shadow creatures emerging from a swamp. Those things were the beginning of the Darkfolk, weren't they?"

  "The Shadowings," Dis said. "There were indeed the progenitors of all of my kind that would follow. That was our only form for millions of years until humans began to evolve. Their dreams changed us, molded us, until we became dark reflections of their worst fears. Creatures that drank blood, changed into animals, worked black magic, and survived beyond death – all because humans imagined it so." Dis smiled. "So you see, Matthew, the Darkfolk really are your people's nightmares." But his smile quickly faded. "But the humans outgrew us, came to hate us and desire our destruction. Perhaps because we reminded them of the darkest parts of themselves."

  "Maybe," I said. "But eating them might've had something to do with it too."

  A hint of Dis's smile returned. "Possibly."

  "When you and I first met, you allowed me to glimpse the true darkness that lies behind Father Dis. That darkness is what you really are, isn't it? You're one of the first Darkfolk – a Shadowing. One that's never changed for all these millions of years, not deep down where it really matters."

  Dis didn't respond right away, and I thought he wasn't going to answer. But then he said. "It's why the Darkfolk call me Father, you know. I didn't literally sire them, of course, but my kind gave rise to theirs."

  "That's why you wanted to create Nekropolis, wasn't it?" I said. "Because it's a father's duty to look after his children, to make sure they have a safe place to live."

  Dis smiled fully once more, showing his perfect movie star teeth, but I knew that what I was really looking at was only a mask, a disguise for something so old, so utterly inhuman, that there was no way I could ever hope to understand it.

  "You know, Matthew, you're really quite good at figuring things out. Have you ever considered becoming a detective?"

  He laughed, and with that Dis began to fade, like the Cheshire Cat in a purple toga, until he was gone, not even leaving behind so much as a smile.

I picked my way though the rubble above what had been Gregor's lair, and walked down the steps to the broken sidewalk. Dis had brought me here after restoring my undead body so we could take care of Gregor before he abandoned his hidey-hole, but for whatever reasons, the Lord of Nekropolis hadn't seen fit to provide me with a lift home. Not that I was ungrateful: Dis had already done plenty for me. Still, it was rude to leave a guy stranded – especially when said guy had just saved the whole goddamned city.