“So I lied,” the restauranteur said nervously. “You go in through the storage room. There’s a cupboard in the corner that’s really a door. There’s a tunnel behind it that leads to a converted warehouse behind this building, facing Shoemaker Street. That’s where they hold the pit fights.”
“Any guards?”
“Two. They’re stationed just before the door at the other end of the tunnel.”
“Thank you for being so forthcoming,” Hexe said. “I have just one final question, and then you’re free to go—what’s in the pot?”
Ghastly gulped so hard it looked as though he were trying to swallow his own Adam’s apple. “W-werewolf stew.”
“That’s what I thought.”
The moment the Dying Gaul’s sword moved away from his jugular, Ghastly heaved a sigh of relief and raised a trembling hand to his pallid brow—and kept it there.
“What the hell is this guy?” I asked, staring into the diner owner’s frozen eyes.
“He’s a ghoul,” Hexe replied, grimacing in disgust. “I have to hand it to Boss Marz, though—he figured out the perfect way to dispose of the evidence from his barbaric little enterprise.”
My stomach flip-flopped as what Hexe said sank in. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” I groaned.
“Hey! What did you do to Ghastly?” The waiter was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, still holding his rag in one hand. As Ariadne and the Cyber-Panther turned to face him, the dishrag dropped to the floor. The ghoul opened his mouth to call out for help, only to freeze in midshout. I could see the pinkish gray slug of his tongue and double rows of tobacco-stained teeth.
The storage room was at the very back of the kitchen, beyond the dish pit. It wasn’t hard to figure out which cupboard was actually the secret door, since the drunks ahead of us had not bothered to close it, revealing a brick-lined tunnel lit only by low-wattage bulbs strung from a crumbling ceiling.
Hexe took his scrying egg from his pocket, fogged it with his breath, and held it up to the dim light. Inside the crystal I could see a pair of Malandanti goons shooting craps at the end of the tunnel. They were so engrossed in their game that they didn’t hear the sound of rapidly approaching, rattling metal until my welded warriors were almost on top of them.
The first Malandanti—a heavyset Kymeran with a cobalt blue brush cut—jumped to his feet, gesturing frantically with his left hand. A fireball, which he hurled at Ariadne, instantly filled his palm. The fire immediately obliterated the papier-mâché mask that served as her face and then spread to her silver lamé gown, none of which stopped her from wrapping her articulated typewriter-key fingers around his throat. The blue-haired croggy shrieked as the hellfire he had summoned spread to his own body, sending him to whatever unpleasant afterlife awaited him.
The second Malandanti, who wore his lime green hair in dreadlocks, was knocked to the ground by the Cyber-Panther. The Lovers moved forward in tandem, crushing his hands under their metallic feet. The goon cried out in agony as his fingers broke, robbing him of what magic he might possess.
Hexe knelt beside the dreadlocked Malandanti, grabbing his face so he was forced to look directly into his eyes. “Tell me where the kennels are.”
“Bang off, fecker,” the croggy groaned through clenched teeth.
“I can make the pain go away,” Hexe promised, tightening his grip on the other man’s face. “But you have to tell me where the kennels are.”
“He’ll kill me if I tell you,” the dreadlocked goon moaned.
“He’s going to kill you, anyway, for not stopping us,” Hexe countered.
The Malandanti guard closed his eyes and nodded, surrendering to Hexe’s logic. “On the other side of the door you’ll see a stairway to your left and a door to your right. The door leads to the kennels. There—I told you what you wanted to know. Now make the chuffin’ pain go away.”
From his breast pocket Hexe removed the copper tube he’d used to anesthetize Lukas and shot a fine white powder into the wounded Kymeran’s face. Within seconds the Malandanti’s eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp.
“Is he dead?” I whispered.
Hexe shook his head. “I placed him in an induced coma until he gets to a healer or a hospital. I might despise the Malandanti and all they stand for, but I’m not a sadist.”
“What about him?” I asked, pointing at the other Malandanti, whose charred body lay tangled with Ariadne’s.
“He’s beyond any mortal help,” Hexe said grimly. “He was doomed the moment the flames spread to him.”
The Cyber-Panther nudged the amorphous glob of melted metal and plastic that used to be his companion piece’s head with his muzzle, like a mother cat urging a sickly kitten to its feet. To my surprise, Ariadne’s partially fused fingers began to twitch, and she managed to raise her upper torso a few inches, only to collapse once more. The Cyber-Panther touched the pile of scrap with his paw, but this time Ariadne remained still.
“She’s gone,” I explained, placing my hand atop the Cyber-Panther’s sleek skull. “The heat was too intense. It melted her joints and destroyed her welds.”
On the other side of the tunnel were the staircase and doorway the guard had described. Hexe put a finger to his lips as muffled footsteps and muted voices floated down from the floor above. From the sound of their laughter, it did not appear that the battle in the tunnel had been overheard.
Hexe opened the door that led to the kennels, keeping a wary eye on the stairway in case someone came down to check on the tunnel guards. I shooed the remaining sculptures in ahead of me. The last one across the threshold was the Cyber-Panther, but not before he cast a final glance in the direction of his fallen mistress.
On the other side of the door was a huge, dimly lit room with row upon row of large enclosed steel cages, with narrow channels cut into the floor to drain away the waste generated by the inhabitants. There was a low, persistent hum, which I recognized as the sound of electrified fencing. The air was so rank, my eyes watered and I had to breathe through my mouth.
“Mother of God!” I groaned in disgust. “It smells like the lion house at the zoo!”
“There’s a reason for that,” Hexe said dourly, pointing to the occupant of the nearest cage.
An African lion, its ribs visible under its tawny pelt, paced back and forth, regarding us with a fiercely burning look. Upon seeing the Cyber-Panther, the lion bared its fangs and growled. The metal cat responded in kind, making a noise that sounded like squealing brake drums. Startled, the malnourished king of beasts retreated to the far corner of its prison.
The lion was not the only captive in Boss Marz’s kennels. A cursory glance revealed a half-starved grizzly bear and a hungry Sumatran tiger on the first row alone.
“They probably keep the beasts separated from the shape-shifters and half-men,” Hexe said. “At least that’s the impression I got from Lukas.”
“Where do they get these things?” I wondered aloud.
“Probably from private zoos or circuses,” he replied. “It would be easier to buy captive animals from inside the country than to run the risk of having them smuggled in.”
“What about this one?” I asked, pointing to the unicorn. A tennis ball had been jammed onto the end of its razor-sharp horn, like the button on a fencer’s rapier. The unicorn glared at me with its ruby-red eyes and bit the air with its teeth.
“That was definitely a smuggler job. Don’t get too close—its hooves are as sharp as its horn,” he warned, pointing to the beast’s cloven feet. “If it lands a kick through those bars, it’ll cut you to the bone.”
“Where do you think he is? This place looks like the warehouse in Citizen Kane. . . . There are hundreds of cages down here!”
“Maybe our friend there can help point the way,” Hexe said, nodding to the Cyber-Panther. “Lukas served as the model for the sculpture. I’ve noticed that he seems to be more aware than the others. Perhaps there is a sympathetic connection between the two?”
“I thought you said they weren’t alive?”
“They aren’t. But there’s something unique about this one. Maybe it’s because it was actually modeled on another living being. Perhaps a spark of Lukas is in there?”
“There’s only one way to find out if you’re right.” I leaned down and whispered into the Cyber-Panther’s ear, “Go to Lukas.”
The metal feline jumped to his feet and ran down one of the rows like a cheetah going after a gazelle. Hexe cursed in surprise and sprinted after the Cyber-Panther as the figure sped through the dimly lit maze of caged animals. I hurried after him, the remaining sculptures in tow, but he had already crossed the border into shadow and disappeared into the darkness beyond the feeble glow of the overhead lights. A few seconds later, I found myself at a crossroads formed by two intersecting aisles of cages, trying to figure out which way they had gone.
I didn’t want to shout, for fear of alerting any Malandanti that might be lurking about in the kennels, so I stood in the middle and turned around and around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Cyber-Panther’s steely hide.
Suddenly I heard the sound of tiny bare feet slapping against the concrete floor. I looked in the direction of the noise and saw the cutest little monkey, dressed in a red velvet vest and matching fez, scamper out from between the cages. Upon catching sight of me, the tiny primate froze and began to chatter in fear. Sucker that I am, I felt sorry for the damned thing. You would have thought the last time I found myself lost in a maze would have taught me something.
“Poor little thing . . . What are you doing down here?” I asked, talking in that high, slow voice reserved for small animals and the mentally handicapped. I crouched down on one knee, motioning for it to come closer. “It’s okay, little fella. ...” The squirrel monkey made a high-pitched chirping noise as it nervously washed its hands. After looking about fearfully, the squirrel monkey took a couple of cautious steps toward me. “That’s a good boy.” I smiled. “I’m not going to hurt you. ...”
“Tate! No!”
I looked up to see Hexe standing in the aisle opposite me, a bruised but otherwise unharmed Lukas alongside him and the Cyber-Panther. The horror on both their faces told me something bad was happening. I turned back toward the cute little monkey in the cute little fez, only to find it had been replaced by a hideous demon-ape.
It was six feet long from snout to tail, and stood five feet high at the shoulder, with greenish yellow fur. It looked like a mutant combination of mandrill baboon and hyena, with long forelegs and short, backward-sloping hindquarters. Huge, menacing spikes grew along its spine, like those of a dinosaur. Its head, which hung low between its hunched shoulders, was hairless, with a prominent brow and patches of bright blue ribbed skin marking its cheeks, as well as a long, bright scarlet snout. It still had on the fez and matching vest it had worn in its squirrel-monkey aspect, which somehow made it all the more terrifying.
Bonzo, the familiar of Boss Marz, opened his jaws in a terrifying yawn that split his head from brow to breastbone, revealing curved fangs the size of steak knives as he charged right for me.
And then everything went black.
Chapter 21
I was surrounded by shadows, shadows that shuttered my eyes and sealed my ears, rendering me blind and deaf. The shadows also lay heavily across my arms and legs, making it difficult for me to move. Although I could not see or hear anything, I somehow knew there was something dangerous hidden in the void.
As I struggled to look around, it felt as if my body were mired in fresh tar, and the faster I tried to move, the more enmeshed I became. I looked up and saw, far above my head, a pale, shimmering gray smear, like the moon hidden behind storm clouds. As I fought my way toward the distant glow, I became aware of the sound of muffled voices in the distance. Although I could not make out the words, the tone was angry. Yet there was something about one of the murky, dimly heard voices that made my heart leap and spurred me toward the rapidly expanding halo of light.
Suddenly I was awake, gasping like a swimmer tossed onto some nameless beach by an angry sea. I was on my side, my hands bound behind me. The nap of the Persian carpet I was lying on was pressed against my cheek. My body ached as if I’d just been in a collision, but I did not feel any sharp pain in my bones or flesh.
“Ah-ha! It looks like your lady friend is finally awake,” Boss Marz said. He was seated behind a very large, very imposing desk, and was smoking an equally oversized cigar. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.
As I focused my eyes, the first thing I saw was Boss Marz’s familiar, still in its demon-ape aspect, leaning over me. I gasped and tried to recoil when it poked me in the ribs with its leathery finger.
“I swear by the sunken cities, Marz, if that baboon of yours hurts her ...”
It was the voice that had summoned me from the shadows back to the land of the living. I turned my head and saw Hexe kneeling a few feet from where I lay, his hands encased in metal globes chained together at the wrist. Behind him stood Boss Marz’s lieutenant, Nach, and a tall, lean man dressed in matching leather pants and jacket, with dirty blond hair and the unibrow of a shape-shifter.
“You’ll do what?” the crime lord sneered as he leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on his desk. He rolled his cigar between his thumb and magic finger, savoring the moment. “You’re hardly in a position to threaten me, ‘Serenity.’ ”
“I’m okay, Hexe,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. “Just a little sore, that’s all.” I looked around, but there was no one else in the room. “What happened to Lukas?”
“Allow me to answer that question, my dear,” Boss Marz said as he moved to sit on the corner of his desk nearest Hexe and me. “I sent your feline friend back to his rightful place in the kennels. But you needn’t fear—you’ll be seeing him again quite soon enough. And as for your ragtag army of welded warriors—I took the opportunity to dismantle them while you were unconscious.” He gestured with his cigar to a pile of scrap metal heaped just inside the door. “Pity, really. Their construction was quite artful.”
I gasped aloud as if I’d been punched in the gut upon espying the Dying Gaul’s sword lying bent into a steel pretzel. A second later I spotted Lover Number Two’s torso, her aluminum funnel breasts pointed at the ceiling, and one of the Thinker’s arms amid the tangled wreckage. The sight of my creations lying there, mangled and tossed aside like so much junk, genuinely shocked me. It was like discovering several close friends slain in a drive-by shooting. Although they had not been truly alive, neither had they been simple automatons. I had put something of myself into each of them, and seeing them demolished was as if a part of me had been violated several times over. As I looked at Boss Marz’s smug, self-satisfied face, I was overcome by a loathing so profound it erased all vestiges of fear.
“You’ll pay for destroying them, you bastard,” I growled.
“I sincerely doubt that,” Marz said, blowing a lungful of smoke into my face. He then turned his attention to Hexe. “I must say, ‘Serenity,’ you disappoint me. I gave you credit for being smarter than this! Invading a Malandanti operation with nothing more than a human girl and a handful of overglorified marionettes?”
“We still managed to take out your guards and breech your defenses, didn’t we?” I said defiantly.
“And see how well that worked out for you,” Boss Marz replied condescendingly.
“How did you know I was harboring Lukas?” Hexe asked.
“It wasn’t that difficult to figure out, really,” Marz admitted. “I knew you were the only healer in all of Golgotham who would dare to defy me. Then a mutual acquaintance told me that he had seen you at a party in the company of a young man with an unusual five o’clock shadow.” He smiled as he tapped the space between his brows. “But I realized it would not be ... prudent . . . of me to kick open your front door and demand the return of my property. So I had to wait until the most opportune time to make my move. When you left the securi
ty of Golgotham, and the protection of your mother’s skirts, to travel uptown, that’s when I knew I had you. Still, my primary goal was simply to recover my chattel. It never occurred to me that you would deliver yourself to my care so soon. Now you and that were-cat bastard will learn at the same time what happens to those who disobey me.”
“Am I supposed to be scared, Marz?” Hexe asked, his words dripping with contempt. “You’re nothing more than a parasite, sucking the blood of the Kymeran people!”
“Mind your tongue, hedger!” Nach snarled, cuffing Hexe hard enough with his metal hand to knock him to the floor.
“Keep your hands off him, you candy-colored asshole!” I shouted as I struggled to get to my feet. The shape-shifter Phelan stepped away from Hexe to push me back down with his boot.
“Leave her alone!” Hexe snapped.
Nach and Phelan exchanged glances and snickered in amusement, but neither one touched me again.
“You and your kind have helped keep our people locked in the ghettos by perpetuating the stereotype of witches and warlocks as the willing accomplices of murderers and rapists.” Hexe spat in disgust. “It is bad enough that you help others justify their mistrust of our race, but you have preyed on your own people far worse than any witchfinder.”
“Those are fine words from the descendant of the greatest traitor to ever bear twelve fingers!” Boss Marz retorted, his cheeks turning bright red. “If it weren’t for the Malandanti, thousands more of our people would have died in the Sufferance. Ours is an ancient and noble organization, and we have much to be proud of. Who are you to stand in judgment? Your precious royal ancestor surrendered our rights as a sovereign people by agreeing to the disarmament and dispersal of the Dragon Cavalry. He turned a proud and feared race into nothing more than common charm peddlers and potion pushers.”
“It is because of the Malandanti that the humans felt justified in persecuting us to begin with!” Hexe replied hotly. “By following the Left Hand Path, you do nothing but invite enmity from the humans. ...”
Right Hand Magic Page 21
