by Glen Cook
Maybe. “Damn! Who did it?”
Morley spread his hands wide and gave a blank look. “I suppose one of the same fun-loving bunch. It went down in broad daylight, in front of fifty witnesses. Farmer-looking guy just steps out of a doorway behind him and lets him have it.”
“Being a wizard ain’t everything.” I’d developed an itch between my shoulder blades. That could happen to anybody at any time. If somebody wants you bad enough, they’ll get you. “I don’t know if I wanted to know that.”
“We’ll tighten up around you, Garrett. We’ll make them work for it.”
“That’s a comfort, Morley.” Peridont getting it bothered me bad. I had this feeling I’d lost my last best ally.
“You think I want to go tell Chodo I blew it?”
I knew what he wanted to say, but he was saying it so clumsily it was worse than if he hadn’t said anything. For Morley, the actual expression of concern or friendship is next to impossible.
“Never mind,” I told him. “Quit while you’re ahead. Was there anything else?” His friend was tickling his neck with a fingernail. He wouldn’t keep his mind on business long.
“No. Go home and stay there. We won’t have to pick up pieces of Garrett if you keep your head down.” “Right. I’ll think about it.” “Don’t think. Do.” “Come on, Maya. Let’s go home.” Morley and I both knew I wouldn’t give it a thought.
40
It started when we were two blocks from my house, a roaring and grumbling hurrying up from the south. Lightning zigged around it. I pulled Maya into a doorway.
“What is it?”
“Something we don’t want to notice us.” A big, red nasty bobbed in the middle of the cloud.
People stuck their heads out windows, got a look, and decided they didn’t want to know.
The micro storm headed straight for my place.
Wouldn’t you know it?
This time there was no roof busting. A nasty red spider strutted down out of the night — and something swatted it right back.
“Old Chuckles is going to pay his rent tonight,” I muttered.
“You’re shaking.”
I was, worse than if I’d been in the thick of it. Yet my mind wasn’t working right. I didn’t think about Dean or the Dead Man. All I could think about was what might happen to my house. It was all I had in the world. I’d gone through hell to get the money to pay for it. I was getting too long in the tooth to start over.
The storm whooped and hollered. The spider headed in again, scarlet swords of fire leaping from its eyes. Bam! They hit an invisible wall. The spider bounced back.
“I didn’t know he had it in him.”
The Dead Man had a lot more than I’d suspected. He never tried to hurt the spider, but he turned every assault. The more its efforts were stymied, the more ferocious the monster became. It didn’t worry about damaging the neighborhood.
This was going to make me popular with my neighbors.
You can only stay keyed up so long. When I began to settle down I had a thought. “This doesn’t make sense. I may have been a pain in the ass to those guys, but not this big a pain. There’s something else going on.”
The flash and fury distressed Maya less than it did me. Maybe it was her lack of experience with sorcery. “Analyze it, Garrett. This is the second time your place has been attacked. You weren’t home either time. Maybe it doesn’t matter if you are. Maybe it’s the house.”
“Or something in it.”
“Or something in it. Or someone.”
“Besides me? Nobody …” The Dead Man? But he’d been dead too long to have enemies left. “Know what I think? I got started on the wrong foot at the beginning. I’ve been trying to get it to make sense.”
Maya looked at me weird. “What the hell are you yapping about?”
“I’m trying to make sense of something that isn’t rational. I knew from the beginning that religion was involved. Several religions, maybe. You can try from now until the end of the world and you’re not going to make sense out of that. I shouldn’t be attacking it that way. I should be going with it, going after who’s doing what to who and not trying to figure out why.”
Her look got weirder. “Did you get hit on the head? You’re raving.”
Maybe I was. And maybe somewhere in my nonsense there was a kernel of wisdom. That business down the street looked like a good argument for reassessing my place in the excitement. “Ever been to Leifmold, kid?”
“What?”
“I’m starting to think the smart thing would be to get out of town. Let this thing take care of itself.”
She didn’t believe me for a moment. And she was right. Maybe it’s a lack of common sense. Maybe I just have a feeble survival instinct. I’d hang in until the end.
I mean, what kind of reputation would I get if I backed off just because that was the safe thing to do? Somebody hires you, he wants you to stick. You want to work, you got to do that — at least until moral revulsion forces you out. You don’t let a little thing like fear slow you down.
The thing with eight limbs was on the ground now, stomping around the house, making the earth shake, roaring, grabbing up cobblestones and throwing them. I told Maya, “Every living city flunky will be around to pester me now.” I didn’t look forward to that. I’m not at my best with those people.
One of my angels darted through the shifting witch light. I recognized Wedge.
“Remind me I don’t want to get into your line of work, Garrett.” He looked up the street. “What the hell is going on?”
“You got me. I’m not sure I want to know.”
The eight-limbed thing tore chunks out of a couple of houses, and flung them at my place. They bounced back. The Dead Man was showing unnecessary patience. The monster jumped up and down like an angry child. It looked to me like he and the Dead Man had a standoff. I was amazed. I couldn’t picture my boarder holding his own against the avatar of a god.
“I didn’t sign on for this, Garrett,” Wedge told me. “I ain’t no chickenshit, but saving your ass from demons is a little top much.”
I could empathize with that. “Saving my ass from demons is a little too much for me, too, Wedge. You want to do a fade you won’t hear me cry. I didn’t beg Morley for any guardian angels.”
“You didn’t. Chodo did. If you did he’d have told you to go tongue-kiss a ghoul. Bye, Garrett. Good luck.”
“Yeah.” Candy ass. When the going gets tough, the smart get going and the stupid keep heading toward trouble. Garrett didn’t have enough sense to follow Wedge’s example. He hung on where he was.
Maya asked, “We going to do something?”
“Find a tavern and hang out till it’s over.”
She knew a wisecrack when she heard one. “We hang around here and the Watch will scoop us up. They must be awake by now.”
She had a point. Something this loud would force those guys to come out so their asses would be covered when questions were asked later. In that way having the spider get held off was worse than having the house get smashed. This was a hurrah that couldn’t be ignored.
“Hell!” I spat. “Enough is enough.” I stepped out of the doorway, trotted up the street, stopped a hundred-fifty feet from home, eyeballed the spider, wound up and let my last bottle fly like it was a flat rock. It didn’t hit the spider but it did smash between the monster’s legs. Whatever was inside splashed.
The thing jumped about forty feet high and shrieked like the world’s biggest stuck hog. It turned in the air. It picked me out of the crowd, which wasn’t all that tough. It started its charge before it hit the ground.
Now what, genius?
I shoved Maya into a breezeway and scooted in after her. The spider smashed into the buildings as though trying to bull right through. It let out a big bass whoop of frustration, then started ripping materials out of its way. One hairy leg kept reaching for me.
There were greenish spots on the leg where Peridont’s stuff had splattere
d it. Every little bit it paused to scratch those. In five minutes it was scratching more than it was trying to get us.
The breezeway was a dead end. We were caught good. I didn’t waste the five minutes it took the spider to become preoccupied with itself. I tested two doors and attacked the weakest. I got it open just as the spider started spending most of its time scratching.
“Come on.” I pushed into the darkened interior, part of someone’s home. Maya stumbled around behind me. When I paused I heard rapid, frightened breathing. There were people in there, trying to keep quiet and not be noticed.
We got through without killing ourselves on unseen furniture, found a window in back, got it open and slithered through.
“Slick, Garrett,” Maya said. “You’d better hope they didn’t recognize you.”
“Yeah.” I already had enough trouble getting along with my neighbors.
“What now?”
We took half a block along an alleyway, toward home, to where I could check on the spider.
For a god it wasn’t very bright. It was still trying to tear its way into that breezeway, when it wasn’t scratching. Doing a fair job, too. “When I say go, we head for the front door. And pray Dean lets us in before that thing catches up.”
“I think maybe going to Leifmold was a better idea.”
“Maybe. Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Go.”
That damned spider wasn’t as fixated as I hoped. It spotted us and began bouncing in our direction before we’d gone ten steps.
We wouldn’t make it in time.
41
Maya pounded the door with both fists. I bellowed at Dean. The spider galloped toward us. I spotted a human skull-type face where the thing’s head was, sort of like it had been painted over the usual spider face. Spreading mandibles made that skull look like it was grinning.
Chains and bolts rattled on the other side of the door.
We had gotten Dean’s attention.
But it was too late. The spider was on us —
It hit something. Or something hit it. There was a sound like crunching gravel. The monster went tumbling back the way it had come, trailing another of its bellows of frustration. “The Dead Man is still on the job,” I gasped at Maya. “Come on, Dean!”
The monster was charging again before the old man got the door open. We plunged inside, trampling him, then tumbled over one another trying to bolt up. Though a fat lot of good bolts and bars would do against that thing.
“What’s going on, Mr. Garrett?” Dean was pale and rattled.
“I don’t know. I was just going to call it a night when that thing dropped out of the sky.”
“Like the thing you saw at the kingpin’s place?”
“Same kind of thing in a different shape.”
“I don’t think I want to be involved anymore, Mr. Garrett. Things like this don’t happen in your regular cases. I think I want to go home until it’s over.”
“I don’t blame you. But first we have to get that thing to go away.” I peeked out. It had quieted down. I thought it might be getting ready to try something nasty.
It was standing in the street, balanced on three legs. It scratched itself with the other five. The green spots on its legs had grown and now shed a phosphorescent light. The more it dug at those the more they irritated it.
Good. Maybe it would forget us altogether.
It pounced at my place like it meant to take us by surprise. Off it went with a howl, slapped away. It stood up unsteadily, scratched vigorously. I told Maya, “I’m going to have a chat with my dead buddy. Why don’t you help Dean in the kitchen?” Hint, hint.
It took the old boy a while. But he got it after I told him to bring me a pitcher.
The house shook again. Storms of rage played around outside. I went into the Dead Man’s room, settled into the chair we kept there for me, and considered the old mountain of blubber. Despite the excitement he looked no more animated than usual. You couldn’t tell if he was asleep or awake if it wasn’t for a sort of electric radiation bleeding off him. “Whenever you have a minute or two,” I told him.
He wasn’t himself. Go ahead, Garrett. He was saving his irritation for the thing outside.
“Got any idea what that thing is?”
I have begun to develop a suspicion. I have not yet gathered evidence enough to establish a certainty. I do not like the suspicion. If that thing is what I fear....
He wasn’t going to say, but then he never let anything out of the bag until he was sure he wouldn’t contradict himself later. I knew what sort of answer I’d get, but I asked anyway. “And what’s that?” Maybe he’d be distracted enough to let something slip.
Not yet.
“Can you at least get it to go away?”
I do not have that power, Garrett. You seem to have done what was needed to discourage it, though it is losing its determination very slowly.
Not sure what he meant, I took a peek outside. The spider was more involved in scratching itself and less interested in my place. I went back. “You going to contribute something now or are you just going back to sleep?”
Though I am certain you brought this upon yourself and deserve any villainies visited upon you, it seems —
“Don’t get wise, Old Bones. That thing didn’t come to see me. Neither did those firebombers. I wasn’t home either time. So you tell me —”
Quiet. I must reflect. You are correct. I have failed to see the obvious, that you are too small a mouse to interest this cat.
“I think you’re special, too.”
Quiet.
He reflected. He batted that spider away. I got tired of waiting. “You better not take forever. It won’t be long before we’re up to our hips in people who want to know what’s going on. Hill-type people.”
Correct. I have foreseen that. I do not have enough information. You must tell me all that has happened since you became involved. Spare me no detail.
I protested.
Hurry. The thing will accept defeat soon. The minions of the state will bestir themselves. It will be to your advantage to be absent when they arrive. You will not be absent if you do not hasten.
That was true, though maybe it wasn’t his full concern. I played along, anyway. I started at the beginning and gave him everything to the moment I’d gotten in a step ahead of the spider. The telling took a while.
He took a while longer to digest everything. I was pretty antsy when Dean stuck his head in. “Mr. Garrett, that thing gave up.”
I hurried to the front door and peeked out. Dean was right. It was staggering down the street, not even trying to walk on air, spending more energy scratching than going. I bounced back into the Dead Man’s room. “It’s headed out, Chuckles. We don’t have much time.” I leaned back into the hall. “Dean, tell Maya we’ve got to get out of here.”
He scowled at me. He muttered and cursed and made it damned clear he thought I had no business putting Maya at risk.
The Dead Man said, If I can have your attention?
“You got it, Smiley.”
Your sense of humor never rises above the juvenile. Pay attention. First, it is probable that you are correct. The attacks upon this house were not launched either to get you or because the place belongs to you. For a moment I considered it possible that I was their target. That seemed reasonable under the assumption that this trouble springs from the source I suspect. But that source should not be aware of my presence, considering its prior indifference to researching the nature of its adversaries. So its focus, its interest, must be something within the house.
Say what? He knew who was stirring all the commotion?
Have you bothered to examine the guest room? You did not mention having done so, yet I cannot imagine any protégé of mine having been so lax as to have overlooked the obvious.
He was going to bounce right up on his high horse. He loves it when he nails me.
Damn it, I’d thought about this before and I hadn’
t bothered to see if Jill had left something.
Sometimes you get too busy to think.
Now, with him sitting there smirking, I began to wonder if Jill hadn’t set me up.
“Dean! Go upstairs and see if Jill left anything in the guest room. Maya can help you look. If you don’t find anything, look wherever she could’ve gotten to while she was here. If you still don’t find anything, look where she couldn’t have gotten. There must be something.”
Better late than never.
“Right. I’m sure the neighbors will agree when they try to figure out why their houses got torn up.”
He understood. If he’d gotten off his mental duff back when, we might not have this mess now.
Let us not fall to bickering, Garrett. Time has been wasted. Let us waste no more.
“Check. So let’s get at it. You think you know what’s going on? Do you know anything about these Sons of Hammon?”
I recall them. A vicious and nihilistic cult. For them all life is sorrow and misery and punishment and shall continue to be till their Devourer has been unchained to scour the world clean. The many shall be consumed and the True Believers, the Faithful, who serve without cavil, who help release the Devourer and set the Devastation in motion, shall be rewarded with perpetual bliss. Their paradise resembles the adolescent paradise of the Shades cults. Milk and honey, streets of gold, an inexhaustible supply of suppliant virgins.
“That part doesn’t sound so bad.”
To you it would not.
I waited for him to tell me more.
The cult’s roots reach back to the time of your prophet Terrell. It was declared heretic and a persecution launched against it a thousand years ago. Till then it was just one of countless Hanite cults. The heretics fled into various nonhuman areas. A colony formed in Carathca, where its doctrines became polluted by dark elfish nihilism, then fell under the sway of devil-worshippers who brought it around to its present philosophical form three hundred years ago. About that time its high priests began claiming direct revelations from heaven, revelations the laity could feel themselves. The cult began acting politically, trying to hasten the Devastation.
