At that moment, it took great control to keep from bolting from her hiding place, and taking one of the machines then and there. But she did not have the means to power or control one. She watched the human’s thoughts as he locked down the equipment, then fled like the others; and she contemplated what she had learned.
One of the machines was directed very near one of the points that would trigger a major quake. Near enough, in fact, that the humans here had hesitated to use it for this experiment, and in the end, took a chance that the experiment would fail rather than take the greater risk.
She could go out now, and manually re-aim the machine. The fire and the escape of her host’s captives would cause a great stir—she could use that and her host’s high status to order this building sealed before the humans learned of her meddling. Then she could return to this level, and use the re-aimed machine.
And then, all she need do would be to wait.
Potential crystalized. This was a good plan, with high probability of success.
She squeezed her host’s body out of its hiding place, and set to work.
Kory supported Beth as she stumbled and nearly fell; there was something very odd about the absence of guards and Warden Blair’s men. Was that strangeness connected with the evil creature he had sensed outside their door?
Suddenly, without warning, a shape out of nightmare loomed up in front of them, blocking their path. Kory knew it the moment it appeared, although he could not put a name to the thing. It was the creature—or one like it—that he had sensed outside their door.
And it loomed above the body of one of the guards, mantling shadowy wings over it, as if it were a great bird of prey.
Beth stifled a gasp; Kory backed carefully away from the thing. It did not move, apparently intent over its victim. After a few seconds, it drifted away, sliding through a half-opened doorway.
Well, now they knew where the guards had gone.
He glanced at Beth, and saw that she was standing motionless, her back pressed against the wall, still staring at the spot where the guard had lain. “Beth, we must leave here—” he whispered urgently to her.
“Can’t you feel it?” she whispered back to him. “They’re all around us, hidden in the shadows. They’re so close, I can feel them brushing against my skin, stealing the air we’re breathing. We’ll suffocate here, as the walls fall in around us, and the shadows will eat our souls…“
“No!” He gathered witchlight in his hand, casting light into every corner of the corridor. “There’s nothing around us, Beth. We’re close to the exit, just another doorway and some stairs. I know Eric is out there, I can feel he’s close to us”—And so can anyone else within five hundred leagues, my friend the Bard is shining like a torch tonight— “Lean on me, love, and we’ll walk out of here together.”
Her hand tightened on his, and he half-carried her past the place where the guard had died. He saw another Emergency Exit sign with a feeling of relief, and herded Beth toward it. As they reached it, a flood of people appeared coming from the other direction, and crowded into the door with them. There were a great many more people in this building than he would have judged, and it seemed as if all of them had chosen to bolt into the staircase he and Beth had taken.
That was not so bad—many people would provide confusion and cover, in which they could escape.
And more victims for that—creature?
Was that something Eric had called, in an effort to free them? If so— could the Bard control something like that? Or had he taken on more than he knew?
Kory could only hope that the Bard knew what he was doing, as he and Beth let the press of humans carry them up the stairs and into the free night air.
Eric and Kayla waited as patiently as they could for something to happen. There didn’t seem to be much going on out there, though, and Eric began to wonder if he’d made a really bad choice of weapons. Maybe he should have gone to the police after all—or the media—
The Nightflyers had all headed towards one building; he and Kayla watched them drift inside, not all of them by means of doors or windows. A few of them seemed to be able to pass right through solid walls if they wanted to; something that did not bode well for his sleeping habits for a while. From the look on Kayla’s face, he had the feeling the same was true for her.
But since they had entered the building, it looked like business as usual from the outside. Those shadows drifting across lighted windows—they could just as easily be late workers as his otherworldly creatures. No one came running out of there, screaming or otherwise—
Alarms sounded, shattering the silence, startling both of them into shrieks, which fortunately were drowned in the klaxon-horns. He grabbed Kayla and hauled her back, deeper into the shadows, as she tried to bolt for the building.
She couldn’t have heard him unless he yelled, but his meaning was plain enough: they needed to stay where they were.
As armed security guards appeared from other parts of the lab complex, racing towards the building in question, Eric noticed that the lights in the windows had all turned red. Is that some kind of emergency lighting? Did the Nightflyers finally do something that triggered an alarm?
The front doors burst open as guards took up defensive positions—and were promptly overwhelmed by the rush of frantic people streaming out of the building. Some wore white lab coats, but only about half the rest were in ordinary street clothes. Some looked injured; there were groups of two and three helping each other along. There were a lot more of them than Eric would have expected; evidently there was a lot of work going on at night. He peered through the confusion, hoping, fearing—
And spotted a pair of familiar heads as a knot of people passed under a sodium-vapor light, ignoring the guard who tried to stop them. One blond—one red—
“Elizabet!” Kayla squirmed out of his grip and sprinted away, and he didn’t even try to stop her this time, assuming that the confusion would cover her. He made a dash of his own for histwo targets; brushed aside a guard whose bewildered expression told him there was something odd about the situation, and threw his arms around the two who were supporting each other.
There was no time for greetings, though; he swept them from an embrace into a stumbling trot, heading for the gate. No one moved to stop them—no one made a move to stop anyone who was trying to leave.
At some point between the place where he caught Kory and Beth, and the entrance, Kayla and Elizabet joined them, making a group too formidable for anyone to trifle with. At the entrance, Eric guided them all off to the side, shoving Kory and Beth ahead of him. “I’ve got transportation,” he said to Elizabet, “but there’s something I have to take care of back there. You guys go back to the house—I think it’s safe, I don’t think those goons knew where we live. I’ll catch BART back home.”
Elizabet looked as if she wanted to object, but finally nodded, tersely. “Neither Beth nor Kory look as if they’re in a fit state to be left alone,” she said. “And knowing what happened to me—we’ll stay with them. Kayla, I think Beth may need you the more. I’ll stay with Kory.”
Eric nodded his thanks, and left them heading in the direction of the bikes. He turned, and went back to the edge of the fence.
Now to put the genie back into the bottle. If I can…
* * *
CHAPTER 9:
Beauty in Tears
The creature glided slowly in her direction. Dr. Susan Sheffield crouched further into the corner, watching as something slid past the tall yellow barrels.
The scientist in her noted calmly that the creature seemed to be composed of different light intensities, which shifted as it moved. No, not variable light intensities, but rather the absence of light. As it floated through the air, it—absorbed? deflected?—light waves, creating the shadowy framework. It also seemed to be slightly confused by the heavy metals disposal canisters. Possibly the contained radioactivity, or maybe the metals themselves? No way to know, not without some extensive test
ing…
The other part of her mind was too numb to think, too horrified to consider anything but screaming. But she knew that making a single noise would be fatal. She’d seen one of these things kill Frank, and the new lab tech, the boy whose name she could never remember. At least, she hoped they were dead.
The creature inched closer, blotting out the last of the light. She was too terrified to scream; she closed her eyes, wishing she could at least knowwhat had killed her…
A faint sound pierced her terror, a sound that she felt resonating beneath her skin, even though the room was completely silent, A melody, strange and alluring, calling to her, calling…
She opened her eyes again, to see the creature still floating in the air before her, It began to move away, drifting toward the stairway. Without thinking about it, she moved after it, following it up the stairs. The music seemed to be saying something to her, something too important to ignore, even with the shadows of death moving through the hallways around her.
She followed the creature up the long flights of stairs, through the emergency exit and toward the main lobby. Other shadow-monsters joined them in this strange trek, drifting past her through the white metal railings.
Something stopped her by the door, though; a silhouetted human figure, standing near the doorway, staring at something beyond. A moment later, she recognized him—Warden Blair, the project manager of the team down on Level 13, one of the “sealed” floors. He stood very close to the doorway, his fingers clenched white on the lintel, as though trying to hold himself back from a force that was pulling him through the door.
She stood there for a moment, as the creatures drifted past her, coiling around her ankles and swirling her skirt around her knees. Beyond, she could see the floodlit area beyond the glass doors. Standing beyond the doors was a young man with long dark hair, playing a flute. As she watched, the shadow-monsters drifted toward the young man, gathering before him, a shifting dark cloud.
Blair turned and saw her. She recoiled at the look in his eyes…there’s nothing human there, a corpse has more emotion in its eyes… and stepped back, though the music still tugged her forward.
Those inhuman eyes fixed on her face, lit with a strange hunger. Blair let go of the doorjamb, and reached out a clawlike hand toward her.
Susan dove past him, into the dimly-lit lobby. Her hand slapped the door release knob by the side of the glass doors, and she slammed into the doors shoulder-first, falling through to the concrete steps outside. She glanced back; there was no sign of Blair in the shadowy lobby. Now she didn’t have to worry about a homicidal maniac… instead, she had two hundred of those deadly creatures gathered on the asphalt not quite fifteen feet in front of her.
No problem, she thought crazily, and fainted.
* * *
All right, Eric. You get one try at this; don’t screw it up. He took a deep breath, and looked out at the gathered assemblage of Nightflyers on the pavement. I can handle this. It’s just like conducting the high school orchestra back home.
Except that the kids in the school orchestra weren’t going to eat me alive if I made a mistake…
The Nightflyers waited patiently. Eric could sense that they were watching him, waiting for… something.
For me. They’re waiting for me to make a decision, to lead them. The image of the Nightflyer in the ruined city flashed through Eric’s mind, the creature bowing to him as if to a great lord, a leader.
That’s what I could be to these guys. A leader. He imagined himself at the head of the unliving army, sweeping through the countryside and righting all wrongs… no more wars, not when there wasn’t a conventional army on the planet that could fight against his troops. No more crime, no drug-wars in the streets of the city… no one dying of violence, no one at all, ever again.
Except when these Nightflyers get hungry and need to find a dinner somewhere.
Then again, maybe all of that wouldn’t be such a good idea after all…
Eric shuddered, bringing himself back to the present. He saw that the crowd of Nightflyers had moved closer to him while he’d been daydreaming, and now were hovering only a few feet away, almost close enough to touch. Get your act together, Eric, and get rid of these guys before you end up as the Blue Plate Special yourself
He brought his flute up to his lips, and began playing a slow slipjig, “The Boys of Ballysadare”—a tribute to fallen soldiers, young boys killed in a battle nearly forgotten in the mists of history—one by one, the Nightflyers faded from view, like shadows touched by bright sunlight. Eric felt sweat running down his skin, as he realized just how many of the creatures he had summoned, and still had left to banish.
One of the Nightflyers drifted very close to him as it faded away, the shadow-wings brushing against his skin, a touch colder than ice. He held onto his concentration like a shield, willing the monsters to go away, return to that strange place from which he’d called them. Only a few left, he saw as he began playing the A part of the tune again, only a few… one of his fingers, damp with sweat, slipped on the smooth metal key of the flute, and the remaining Nightflyers surged forward toward him. He caught up the thread of the melody again, holding them at bay until the last one was gone, and he was alone in the parking lot.
Eric slid down to his knees on the asphalt, the flute clutched in his nerveless hands. The adrenaline charge hit him a split-second later, his heart pounding too fast, hands shaking with the realization of how close he’d been to death.
Next time, maybe I’ll just call in the Marines instead.
He managed to stand up somehow. Fortunately, he was still alone… no, he wasn’t. He saw an older woman, dark-haired and wearing a laboratory coat over her clothes, slumped on the pavement a split-second later, and hurried to her. Eric knelt beside her, checking her throat for a pulse.
At his touch, the dark-haired woman opened her eyes and blinked at him. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “It’s all over.”
She sat up slowly, looking around the parking lot. In her eyes, Eric recognized the same look of total shock that he’d seen in the eyes of the Los Angeles elves, after the battle in the park.
“Do you have a car?” he asked. “I’ll help you get home.”
She nodded, not speaking.
He helped her to her feet. She leaned against his shoulder, walking unsteadily. As they approached a blue Suzuki jeep, parked alone beneath one of the floodlights, she silently handed the car keys to Eric. Well, he knew in theory what to do. As Eric drove the jeep out of the Dublin Labs parking lot, weaving like a drunkard, the woman looked back once at the brightly-lit laboratory complex and began to cry.
Beth held tightly to Kory as the motorcycle banked through the turn from Van Ness onto Geary Street, accelerating through the pools of light and shadows cast by the streetlights. Something bothered her about the moving shadows, the way they glided past the motorcycle and disappeared behind them.
The Faerie motorcycle braked delicately into a right turn, heading up their street and toward the only lit house… of course Eric forgot to turn off the lights in the garage when he left the house, she thought and smiled. Figures. I just hope he remembered to lock the front door—
They pulled up into the driveway, the bike courteously switching off its own headlight. She slid off the motorcycle and nearly lost her balance, grabbing onto Kory for support.
“I’m okay,” she muttered, then repeated the words louder for Kory’s benefit. A moment later, the second motorcycle pulled into the driveway, and Elizabet and Kayla followed them to the front door.
Inside, the house was warm and dark. Beth felt her way carefully through the darkness, turning on lights as she went. She continued into the kitchen and the living-room, making sure that all the lights were switched on. She caught the curious looks from Elizabet and Kayla as she went into the dining room to turn on the light in that room. When all of the first floor of the house was brightly lit, she rejoined them in the living-room, slumping into her favorite
chair, a Papasan with a fat pillow-seat.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asked, remembering to be a good hostess. “Some tea or coffee?”
Kayla shook her head. Beth noticed that Elizabet was giving her apprentice a different kind of odd look.
“Is anything wrong, Beth?” the older woman asked, watching her intently.
“No, not at all. I’m just glad we’re home. Are you sure you wouldn’t like anything to drink?” She stood up, walking to the wooden cabinet by the fireplace. “Well, if no one else wants anything, I think I’d like something.” She reached for the bottle of Stolichnaya, and realized for the first time that her hands were shaking.
Elizabet stood up, and took the bottle from Beth’s hand. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Beth,” the healer said firmly.
Without even thinking about it, Beth slapped her across the face.
She brought her hand up to her mouth, suddenly horrified by what her hands had done. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I To her horror, she burst into tears.
Beyond Elizabet, she could see Kory, staring at her. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said, angrily wiping the tears from her eyes.
“I think you need some rest,” Elizabet said, taking her by the arm. Something about that touch, it seemed too familiar to her… she glanced at Elizabet’s face, and saw her handsome dark features melt, changing into something else… a man’s face, a man wearing a business suit, smiling at her with that look of a little boy with a new toy, he was going to take her apart like a clock and toss all of her gears and wheels across the floor…
She shoved Blair away from her, sending him falling back against the cabinet, and turned to run. Kayla was blocking her path, though… why was the little healer kid trying to help Warden Blair? Kayla said something that Beth couldn’t hear, and then the world went very bright, the white light blotting out everything else. Very strange, she thought as the light washed over her and carried her away.
Summoned to Tourney Page 14
