“Why? Did you find something?”
I was just pulling into the clearing behind the house, having successfully navigated the forest path without getting a single dent, and I finally felt like I could pull my gaze away from the road for a few seconds. I glanced at Gen. She turned the book around and held it out for me to see. “Does this look familiar?”
The page she showed me contained an elaborate drawing of an ogre’s physique -very humanlike and similar to myself, but about twelve feet in height. It was a cutaway drawing, showing layers of muscle and skeleton on half of the body. Next to the ogre was an enlarged drawing of a small walnut-shaped organ with an arrow pointing at its heart. This seemed to be what Gen was pointing at.
“That’s the second heart,” I said, relaying what a doctor had told me years ago. “It’s a -what do they call it?- vestigial; an organ left over from my ancestors that doesn’t work anymore. Like tonsils.”
“Who told you that?”
“A doctor.”
“Did he know that for a fact? Or was he just guessing?”
We pulled up behind the mansion, and I parked the truck. I turned to face her. “What are you talking about?”
Gen tapped the image with her index finger. “That’s not a heart, Hank. It’s a seed!”
Chapter 10
Inarrowed my eyebrows as I stared at the drawing. “What are you talking about?”
“Have you heard of seeds that need fire to germinate? Like giant redwoods?”
“I don’t know... I may remember hearing something about that.”
“Sequoia seeds are protected inside the cone. It won’t open unless it gets scorched by a wildfire; that’s how they grow.
“Fascinating,” I said. “Thanks for the botany class. What does that have to do with me?”
“This organ inside of you, Hank. It’s like that. It can’t grow except in very specific circumstances.”
I thought back to the last moments before I died. There was definitely fire, no doubt about that. There was also an explosion that decimated me, and everything else within a few hundred feet. “It’s not possible,” I said. “I was blown to smithereens. No organ could survive something like that.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you! This thing isn’t a normal organ. It survived the explosion because it’s a seed. It’s hard as a rock, Hank.”
I gave her a skeptical look. “For the sake of argument, let’s say it could survive a blast like that. What’s the point? What could possibly come from a seed?”
“You could,” she said. I snorted. Gen turned the book back, and flipped to the next page. She scanned the next few paragraphs. “It’s called a heartstone. It says here that it stores up information about an ogre, all throughout his life.”
“Like what? Like a memory stick? Like a computer?”
“Yes, something like that. The stone contains memories and genetic information. If an ogre dies prematurely, the heartstone can be used to regrow him. That’s why you’re still the same person, Hank. Your memories make you who you are.”
I leaned back in the seat, gazing out the window at the back of the mansion. It was dark, damp, foggy out there. The place looked dead. “I still don’t get it. What’s the point?”
Gen flipped the page. “It says here that it’s a way to guarantee the continuity of the species. Since ogres are so rare, even a natural disaster could wipe out most of the population. This makes it so the population can be restored.”
“By planting a seed and growing an ogre?”
“There’s some sort of magic involved, but it doesn’t name any spell. It just says that the seed can be germinated by a powerful mage. Listen to this:
Due to the nature of the heartstone, the ogre, while maintaining his stewardship and authority over the fae, must also remain keenly aware of his dependence on the very creatures over which he rules. In order to perpetuate the species and assure that wisdom is passed on to their youth, the ogres rely on the fae just as the fae look to the ogres for protection...”
My head swam. Gen leaned closer.
“Don’t you see, Hank? It’s the balance of nature. The fae rely on Stewards to protect them and keep the peace, but the Stewards need the fae, also.”
“So what happened?” I turned my head to lock eyes with her. “What happened to the other ogres? Why didn’t the fae do something to save them?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But somebody does.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Think about it, Hank. Siva found this book. Siva knew. This is how she brought you back! Maybe she knows what happened to the rest of the ogres, too.”
“But why did she get this book?” I said. “Why does she care about this information? Did Gallan put her up to it?”
Gen clicked her tongue at me. “You don’t really think that, do you?”
“Why not?”
She smiled. “Hank, let me be blunt with you. It’s the only thing you understand anyway. Siva loves you. She didn’t go looking for this book to destroy you, she was looking for a way to save you.”
I thought about that for a minute. I didn’t know what to say. It did make sense, in a way. She’d left that trunk for me. She had left clothes and money...
“See? It’s the only thing that makes sense. Siva may have been working for Gallan, but it wasn’t by choice. I think she knew he was going to kill you. She knew she couldn’t stop it, but she found something even better.”
“By helping him kill me? How is that better?”
“Because with you dead, Gallan would no longer be a threat. She figured he would move on, and you would be safe. Siva couldn’t possibly have known he’d die in that explosion with you. From her point of view, she was only trying to protect you. The rest of it -the bombs, the anarchy- she had no way of knowing about any of that. She didn’t know Gallan’s whole plan. She just knew Gallan was trying to kill you.”
I snapped my fingers. “That’s what got Miley and Jacques killed. Siva went to the Preservation Society. They were helping her with this research.”
“Of course, Hank! Gallan must have followed Siva and realized she was up to something, but the Preservation Society wouldn’t let him in. They knew he was a threat.”
I rolled my head back, staring up at the headliner. “Why didn’t I see any of this before?” I mumbled.
Gen giggled. “Because you didn’t ask a woman.”
We sat there in silence for a minute, until Gen nudged me with her elbow and whispered, “What now? Are we here for a reason?”
I sighed. “I was hoping to find a clue, maybe figure out what happened to Siva. Now, I’m not so sure I want to know. What if she needed my help, but I wasn’t there?”
“I’m sure she’s safe, Hank. She was still alive after Gallan died.”
“Then why did she leave? Why keep running if she didn’t have to?”
Gen opened her door. “Let’s go find out.”
We crawled out of the truck, and together approached the back of the mansion. It was a u-shaped building, with the ends of the “u” facing the swamp behind the house. At one time, the courtyard in the center was home to a lush garden, but now it was just as dead and moldering as everything else around there. The weeds had grown wild, creeping up the sides of the house like vines, strangling the old walnut tree into a misshapen caricature of something once lush and living. There was a pond in the center of it all, under the old, dead boughs of the walnut, and the water was murky and smelling, buzzing with mosquitoes even though it couldn’t have been fifty degrees.
Gen and I hurried past, trying to avoid the putrid water and insects as we made our way through the overgrowth to the back door. The paint on the door had been white once, but it was now black and green with mold, peeling away in shreds to reveal dark rotting wood underneath. I reached for the old crystal doorknob, and it gave off a little pop!, and a puff of smoke as I twisted it.
“Protection spell,” Gen muttered. “Siva didn’t leave
the place entirely vulnerable. Better watch our backs in there.”
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. I found myself in an old European farmhouse-style kitchen. Aside from the dust and mildew, the place was relatively clean. It had the untouched look of a kitchen that was meant for display only, a place where expensive appliances and valuable porcelain might sit unused on shelves collecting dust, unappreciated except by the occasional envious guest.
I wasn’t surprised. It was hard to imagine Siva cooking anything other than some sort of toxic brew or potion. This was just one more aspect in which everything I knew about her seemed to conflict with what I had recently learned. She was a dark elf. She had given her better nature over to the dark studies. Was a creature like Siva truly capable of love? Was I deluding myself, once again falling under her spell just so that she could betray me at the moment I needed her most?
I pushed my thoughts aside and moved on to the next room. Gen and I investigated the dining hall, a few bedrooms, and eventually made our way to the front of the house. I had a growing sense of unease, as if someone was watching me, and it grew to a crescendo as we approached the library. Perhaps, I told myself, it was because this was the last place I had seen Siva. This was where Gallan had revealed his plot to me, sent me scrambling to save the city, sent me ultimately to my doom.
I felt a cold chill as we approached the doorway. Even before we stepped into the library, I knew something there was different. Dim light streamed in through the windows, casting black shadows across the furnishings. Cobwebs streamed from the ceiling, spanning the corners and stretching from the walls to the tables, the chairs, and the sofa. I threw a glance around the room, looking for anything out of place. Nothing immediately caught my eye.
Gen came in behind me. She let out a gasp and leapt back, nocking an arrow and drawing it in one smooth, blindingly fast motion. I followed her gaze. My blood froze as I saw a humanlike figure sitting in the shadows by the wall. It was too dark to make out any features, but the instant we realized it was there, the creature moved. It turned its head, and an eerie crackling sound filled the room. It was like rocks breaking, or gravel under the wheels of a tire.
The thing rose to its feet. It lurched a few steps in our direction. Not a man, I realized as it came out of the shadows. A dwarf. And not just any dwarf... Siva’s zombie dwarf.
I had seen the creature a couple of times before. It had never spoken, or done anything but the simplest of tasks for Siva in my presence. The thing always made me slightly nauseous just looking at it. This time was no exception. The creature’s flesh seemed to be peeling away, crumbling as it moved. Only the dull pupil-less eyes gave any indication of life as it stood in front of us like a statue, waiting...
“Where is Siva?” I demanded.
The zombie twisted its head, tilting it a little to the side so it could stare up at me. As it moved, chunks of flesh fell away from its throat. I fought down bile. The dwarf’s mouth opened with a horrific cracking sound, and in Siva’s voice it said, “Hank, I was hoping you would come.”
The hairs rose on the back of my neck. The zombie dwarf was hideous enough without that sound coming out of it. I exchanged a nervous glance with Gen, and I could see the tension in her face. This was some sort of spell... but what kind? Was Siva using the dwarf to communicate with me, like some sort of voodoo zombie telephone?
“Is that... you?” I said cautiously.
“No, I am not Siva. I am a message, nothing more.”
I frowned. “Then what’s your message?”
“It pleases me that you have come this far, Hank. The fact that you are still looking for me gives me hope. I believed that you would have given up by now. In part, I wish you had. I warned you not to pursue me.”
“Why did you do it?” I said. “Did you know about the heartstone?”
The zombie ignored me, and continued speaking: “I know you have many questions, and I wish I could answer them all for you, but I can’t. I’m afraid you’re going to have to solve this mystery on your own. I will give you one clue: seek your answers in the Hall of Records. I promise, you will learn the answers to the most important questions if you try hard enough. I believe in you, Hank. Don’t give up.”
“Is that it?” I said. “I already know about the Hall of Records. I’ve been there. That’s how I found out about the heartstone.”
“One more thing, Hank. I have a gift for you. Since you’ve made it this far, you’re going to need this.”
The zombie held out its hand, displaying a small hardwood box. Gen gave me a perplexed look. “What kind of gift is that?”
Before I could respond, we heard the roar of an engine out front. I stepped around the dwarf and hurried to the front window. There were two speedboats full of Peacekeepers pulling up to the dock. Before the boats had even stopped, they leapt to the shore and came rushing across the front lawn. They had guns this time. Lots of ‘em.
“We have a problem,” I said to Gen. She hurried over to get a look. We stood on each side of the window, hiding in the shadows.
“We need to get out of here,” she said in a whisper.
“Too late. They’ve already moved around back.”
As if in response, a hobgoblin Peacekeeper put a megaphone to his lips and started to speak: “Mossberg, we know you’re in there! We have the whole place surrounded. If you come out now, we won’t kill the elf right away.”
Zak appeared. He yanked the megaphone away and put it to his mouth. “Don’t listen to these idiots, Hank. We just want to talk. Come on out, and we’ll just talk.”
“Right,” Gen muttered under her breath. “That’s goblin-speak for chop you into tiny pieces and feed you to the gators.”
“I know,” I said. I glanced around the room looking for anything that might be useful. “There must be another way out of here. At least a cellar...”
“Don’t count on it. We’re in a swamp, remember? How did Siva get in and out of here?”
I thought back, remembering her shiny new Dodge Charger. Somehow, I couldn’t imagine her driving it through that swamp. “My guess is she teleported. I’m sure she had a spell for that.”
I took a step into the room, inadvertently exposing myself to one of the Peacekeepers who had snuck up to the window. The instant I moved, he started shooting. He had a machinegun of some sort, and he released a series of short, controlled bursts. I dove to the floor. The window shattered behind me, the curtains dancing in a hail of bullets. Pictures fell from the walls, and plaster exploded. Gen vaulted through the air and somersaulted behind the leather couch, adjacent to the zombie.
Chapter 11
Iwas on the floor in a pile of dust and cobwebs. I started crawling in Gen’s direction. A metal canister flew into the room and landed on the floor a few feet in front of me. It let out a pop! and started spewing out thick white smoke.
I wish I had my gun, I wish I had my gun... I never had asked Gen about what had happened to it. She’d taken it into evidence after Gallan stole it from me and used it to kill Jacques. Of course, Gen didn’t even realize that gun was mine. I’d never admitted it. On second thought, I was probably better off without it. I had no interest in carrying a gun that had been used to commit murder.
As the machinegun fire died down, a shadowy figure appeared in the hallway. I threw a glance around, looking for anything I might use as a weapon. Thanks to the gunfire, there were several broken bricks from the fireplace on the floor next to me. I snatched up a hefty chunk and threw it just as hard as I could. I nailed him. He dropped without a sound.
I heard a noise behind me. I twisted around to see a hobgoblin pushing through the broken window. Gen popped up from behind the couch and put two arrows in his chest. He slumped over the window frame and dropped his machinegun to the floor. My eyes lit up. If I could get my hands on that gun...
Before I could even move, the entire detachment of Peacekeepers opened fire. For the next minute or so, I couldn’t do anything but hide my face
as bullets flew like hailstones and plaster rained down around me.
I threw a glance in Gen’s direction and saw the zombie standing between us. The Peacekeepers focused their gunfire on him for a second, probably mistaking the creature for one of us. He stood motionless, frozen like a statue, but shaking from the hail of bullets. Chunks of his body fell away with sharp cracking noises. After a few seconds, his entire body crumbled, collapsing in on itself.
The gunfire stopped, leaving everything strangely silent except for the ringing in my ears. A cloud of dust floated through the air, mingling with the smoke from the grenade and the scent of earth in my nostrils. Zombie pieces clattered to the ground around me. I picked one up to examine it, and frowned as I realized it was a piece of clay.
“Golem,” Gen said in a low voice.
I glanced at her with my eyes wide. “That thing wasn’t real?”
She smiled. “You didn’t really believe in zombies, did you?”
“That’s enough talking!” A voice shouted in the hallway. Three goblins burst into the room with automatic weapons trained on us. Gen reached for another arrow, but hesitated when she realized it was too late.
“Don’t even think about it,” said a goblin. He made a motion with his gun. “Get on your knees.”
They took Gen’s bow away from her, and guided her over next to me, in the midst of the golem’s remains. Following their orders, we settled on our knees, which put me just about face-level with the goblins. Smoke and dust drifted around us, the breeze from the shattered window pushing it slowly into the hallway. Half a dozen Peacekeepers filed into the room. Zak was among them. He handed his firearm to one of the others and came forward to look us over.
“Well, how about this?” he said, standing in front of me with his fists on his hips. “Lucky, lucky me. Now I get to finish what we started the other day.”
“You’ll regret this,” said Gen.
A Dame to Die For Page 9
