Ghost of Doors (City of Doors)

by Jennifer Paetsch

  "Read it?" Wolfgang suggested.

  The tiny dog snarled and spoke again out of the corner of his mouth. "Wash wif you, Mac?" he said, card flying from his mouth to the stone floor. "Dogs can't read."

  Wolfgang slapped his hand to his face and massaged his temples for a moment. "OK, how am I supposed to prove I am who I say I am, again?"

  "Don't know," the watchdog barked. "The burden of proof lies with you, pal. Ipso, facto. I'm the one asking questions and taking names."

  Marie appeared beside Wolfgang then, splashing out of the empty space like a mermaid from the water. "Jees, Louise!" yelped the watchdog. His hair exploded with a fiery burst around him, consumed by the well of flames that opened up under his feet.

  "Hi there, Le Ying," said Marie as her hair drifted slowly to her shoulders with the help of gravity.

  "Hiya, Marie," the tiny dog replied. The pyrotechnics faded and the dog's hair swung around him, relaxing into hues of red and gold. "Glad to see you. This guy's got me playing card games."

  "This guy's my best friend," Marie explained. "He's looking for Markus Schäfer, but if he's not here, he'd like to see Simone. Oh, and Wolfgang, this is Le Ying, Guard Captain and Foo Dog 5th rank."

  The tiny dog bowed with his front legs. "Pleased to meet you."

  "Likewise," Wolfgang said. Simone. What a fantastic idea. Why hadn't he thought of that? Wolfgang envied the craftiness of Marie's mind not for the first nor last time. Simone was the one person who might know something about Doktor Markus Schäfer, his life's work, and therefore, perhaps, his death. Even in as haphazard an organization as SUN, people had to report to higher ups or there would be total chaos. Simone was one such higher up, had been here as long as Wolfgang could remember, and his father reported to her directly and often. She better than anyone would know what happened to the real Markus Schäfer. The thought of her intentionally replacing his father with an impostor after his death began to boil his blood, since it seemed to him extremely likely that she had. After all, someone did.

  "Is Simone here?" Marie asked.

  "Yeah, she's here," Le Ying said. "Burning the midnight oil, as it were." He looked pointedly at Wolfgang. "Listen, next time you want to see somebody, be direct, would you? I got a lot to patrol, and I'm always short."

  "We can see that," Marie said.

  The foo dog growled, albeit playfully, Wolfgang was sure. Wolfgang picked up his father's Ausweis from the floor. "I'm telling you, Marie," the dog said as he led them through the lab into a hall, "things are getting tougher and tougher. If we don't get some new blood soon, we're going to be seriously outnumbered." His little red, round eyes searched Wolfgang up and down as he trotted along. "Hey, what about you? You look like a strapping young whelp."

  He didn't want to explain his plans to the dog, so instead he said, "I'll think about it." Who could he trust anymore? He had no way to tell.

  The dog wagged his tail. "Convince him, Marie."

  "I’ve been trying."

  Le Ying led them to a door at the end of the hall and rapped upon it with his claws. "Frau Simone, you in there? I got a visitor for you."

  "Tell them I'm busy," came the raspy voice from behind the door. Wolfgang pushed past the little dog and shoved at the door, trying to break it open with a well-placed kick beside its lock.

  "It's got a handle," Le Ying said.

  Wolfgang looked down at him and snarled. "Simone!" he shouted. "I need to speak with you, now." His rage poured into his voice, having no other outlet. He wanted to scream, but he knew if he lost all control he could forget ever seeing her, and he had to know what she knew, what she was keeping from him.

  "Who is that?" she shouted back.

  "Wolfgang Schäfer," he said. "Doktor Markus Schäfer's son."

  "I said I don't have time," he heard he say. "Especially for you." Wolfgang turned the handle and shoved again at the door. This time it opened a few inches, then shut with a bang.

  "Simone!" Wolfgang raged, but he knew those inches were enough. Marie was no longer beside him, and he was sure what she'd done: Slipped through the door to confront Simone for him. Sure enough, moments later, they heard a cry.

  "What? What are you doing here? I didn't..." He couldn't hear the other half of the conversation muffled as it was, but he was sure that it involved a knife, most likely to the throat.

  "Yes, yes, okay. I'll see him. Just put that down. Really." Simone sounded more annoyed than scared which Wolfgang figured would be the case, but at least she knew they meant business. In fact, Wolfgang wasn't even sure that a knife could penetrate her thick skin. The sphynx that was Simone sat in a room with books in shelved on every wall, and stacked in every available place. Marie was, for the moment, nowhere to be seen, but Wolfgang knew she wouldn't just leave. A cup of tea sat as yet untouched on the desk, and tremors wobbled its surface every few moments as one of her great forepaws rapped upon her desk. She wore a necklace that looked as if an octopus had laid its chain of eggs around her neck. She waved the foo dog away, adding, "It's okay, Le Ying, you can go," as little claws clambered out of the room.

  "Thanks for seeing me," he said while glaring at the sphynx.

  "Look, I haven't got all night," she growled.

  “Day,” he said. "I want to talk about my father."

  "Day," she said, sighing. "What about him?"

  He didn't want to explain everything to her. He didn't trust her. "I believe that my father is not who he says he is."

  She took off her reading glasses and let them fall to hang from the gold chain around her neck. "What do you mean? A spy?" She leaned forward on massive forepaws, making the desk creak with stress. She lowered her voice. "A spy has taken his place?"

  Wolfgang stared at her blankly for a moment. He hadn't expected this. Was she bluffing? Didn't she know what he was talking about? If she didn't replace him, who did?

  "No," he said finally. "Well, sort of. Maybe," he reasoned. "I mean, my father is not the person I thought he was."

  "Hm. We all realize that at your age," Simone replied, her long tail swishing as she stretched out her wings which reached the tops of the book cases. The light that flashed in her eyes made him suddenly realize that he may have put his replacement father—whoever it was—in danger, and Wolfgang wasn't so sure that was deserved. He began to think that perhaps this was a mistake. But he had to find out the truth; there was no way he could live with the things the way they were now, knowing what he knew. "If that makes him a spy, then, yeah, maybe he is. But he is not this person..." and he handed the Ausweis he had found in the forest to her. She gripped the tiny card in elegant talons and drew her glasses with the other hand back up to her face.

  "And who is this?" she asked, scanning the card slowly. Wolfgang watched the movement of her amber eyes as they shifted right to left, right to left.

  "See there," Wolfgang said. "My father...my father's name, my real father's picture."

  Satisfied for the moment, she looked up. "Where did you get this?" she asked, peering over her glasses at him.

  "This is from the other world, the world I was born in." The world I belong to, he thought.

  "So then how," she asked, letting her glasses fall again, "did you get this?"

  "Does that matter?" he replied. "The point is, I have this, and it's real. So, what I want to know is, who is the man who says he is my father?"

  Simone leaned back then, the desk groaning with pleasure at the release. But the chair, oh, the poor chair, creaked in agony. "I am afraid," she said deliberately, "that we need more to go on than just this card. Do you have any other evidence?"

  Just then, the door flew open. Le Ying had returned and trotted jauntily back into the room, a pair of large stone gargoyles on either side. Wolfgang’s hands became fists. So this chat was merely to get him to let his guard down while back up was brought in. He’d never spent time in the dungeon prison, but he supposed he would soon find out what it was like. Le Ying trotted over to Simone and whispered in her e
ar. Her eyes grew wide. Bounding off the desk, the tiny dog spoke with Wolfgang next. "Come with us," he said.

  "Where're we going?"

  "The Lady wants to speak with you."

  "Look, I don't want any trouble. I just want a few answers."

  "If anyone's got answers," Le Ying said, "it's Lady Welt."

  Chapter 15

  THIS PART OF THE HQ was much darker and deeper than the rest. Wolfgang and his escorts descended several staircases which led them to a catacomb. It didn't smell of death or decay so much as fresh water running through deep caverns, as if they had descended into catacombs forged from existing caves. They passed by lights and marks upon the walls that Wolfgang guessed must serve as some sort of defensive measure; perhaps wards to keep away members of MOON or other, more powerful entities who might find this place by accident or for a sinister purpose. Through one series of great doors and then another, they finally entered a large underground chamber where some sort of pale light glowed from above, mimicking the moon, and various faeries and sprites flitted about from bloom-like mushroom to mushroom. Sitting upon a bench on one side of this garden was a delicate figure in layers of light, ornate robes. Wolfgang walked as lightly and quietly as possible upon the stones and moss so as not to disturb the reverence that she and her garden demanded. The gargoyles halted at the entrance and came no further, while Le Ying charged ahead, looking like a fiery toy, a plaything, in a maiden's garden. The girl turned to face the dog, and Wolfgang saw her for the first time: Her skin was a silk mask, flawless and pure. Her eyes were purple-blue like the sky before twilight and so intense that he could see their color from where he waited a reverent distance away. And the braided hair that had slipped from the robes were golden cords woven by the hands of the most skilled weavers. Wolfgang had always thought that Marie, one of the true fair folk, was beautiful in her glamour, like an angel. This young woman, fresh and new as a spring morning at the dawn of time, was a goddess.

  On his way out, Le Ying trotted back over to Wolfgang. "The Lady will see you now," he said in a way that meant it was a formality he had said a million times before. "Just—don't lose your head like you did with Simone," the little dog whispered. "I gotta be honest, that won't work here." And he left, but the gargoyles stayed, their eyes burning low at the ready. Knowing what Wolfgang did of the elder fae, he wondered if she really needed their protection.

  Wolfgang approached the Lady. Turning from the pond she had been minding, she watched his approach. "So you are he, the son of our greatest inventor." It was not a question. Her voice had a double tone to it, as if two people were speaking. The first was clear and bright, the voice of vigor and youth and eternal life, the second, rough and devoid of all music, dull as a lead bell. The voice of death. "We welcome you to our home."

  "Greetings, Lady," Wolfgang said and bowed before her. "I beg your pardon. I had no idea this was your home."

  "Before this war, We used to live in a palace in the Hindernis," Lady Welt explained, "made from the sands of time. But that life is long past." Wolfgang could feel it—this woman was a thing of raw nature, of the ancient past; an elder and primal fae, something that he only met once before, when he was a just child. There were not many of these left, either driven away or gone by choice, drawn to other worlds by the lure of wild, simple peoples to rule, to prey upon. The new order of things was lost on these old ones. Wolfgang felt pity for her, in spite of the power he knew she must have. SUN did not choose her to be their leader for nothing. Yet here she sat on a bench, so fragile, so child-like. Did she ever leave this room? Did she ever go to modern Earth or to new Doors, with its cars and smoke and technology? Was there a place for her in this world anymore?

  A long shadow stretched out behind her, and a soft glow came from her features, as if she reflected the light that came to her from the pool and the myriad faeries who danced and swirled there as if to entertain her. But Wolfgang knew that they were actually basking in her aura and drawing strength from it--there were some who could not live but in the presence of an elder, that is, an older tree or older fae in order to draw strength. Without the Lady, these tiny things would shrivel up and die. And they lived in her glow like the moon revolves around the earth, a model of the universe as tiny bodies like stars and planets danced around her. And in the long shadow, shapes darker still moved and shifted, like heavenly bodies lost to the darkness of deep space. "You are looking for answers about your father's past," she said, "and I understand you already have some."

  "Not really," Wolfgang said.

  "Oh?" the Lady said, more like a sigh than a spoken word. "You have met him in the forest and he gave you proof of...that other place. That hungry place."

  Wolfgang nodded. He hadn't really considered his father's Ausweis to be an answer, but he supposed it was, sort of. If it had just been laying on the ground for years, it would have been unintelligible, perhaps even in pieces, or destroyed. Markus must have dropped it purposefully for him to find. Even so, that was hardly an answer, more of a plea for help. "That's not the answer I was looking for," he said.

  She played with a string in her fingers, perhaps weaving or unwinding it, Wolfgang wasn't sure. It was thick and dark, maybe gray, but as Wolfgang studied it a moment, he realized it was many colors threaded together. Gazing on that string gave him a moment to collect his thoughts. That Ausweis was not all that he wanted, far from it. In fact, he was almost sorry that he had found it in the first place. "Are you sure?" asked the Lady. Her indigo eyes channeled a strange mix of childlikeness and wisdom, the impishness of the fae conflicted with a deep sorrow. "Sometimes, that's all we get. Sometimes, that has to do."

  "Not for him," Wolfgang replied. "And not for me. He doesn't deserve that." Looking out onto the water, he could see several sirens leering at him as they sang. If there ever was an unpredictable monster, it was the siren. He wondered vaguely what they were doing here. The monsters that Lady Welt had assembled in her court, for whatever reason, did not exactly encourage his trust.

  "How do you know?" she said. "You don't even know him."

  "Excuse me?" was all he could manage.

  "If the person who raised you was not him, then you don't really know what your father was like, at all," she said simply. Wolfgang scoured her face for a hint of sinister intent, but he couldn't find one. Her expression was wide-eyed, honest, and pure. "You know, you can be satisfied with the answer you have so far," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. "No one would think less of you for it."

  "No," he said a bit angrily. "No, sadly, I can't. I can't be satisfied. I'm not satisfied now, and I don't think I can ever be."

  "Sadly, indeed," she said. "You must believe strongly in him and yourself in order to not be afraid of the answers. But, all too often, we are mistaken about the burdens we can bear." She had a point. What he had discovered so far had been thrust upon him, and he hadn't even had time to consider what the answers might do to him. He did, in a way, trust that everything would turn out okay, but this was like finding blood dripping from the ceiling and not thinking about why, only wanting to open up the ceiling to stop the flow of blood. There could be any number of horrible outcomes from learning the truth, but the Lady was the first person so far to point out how ill-advised this venture might be. Somehow, Wolfgang doubted she was speaking out of concern for his welfare. A fae didn't become the leader of a faction by being honest and true. There was a reason why some ancient peoples thought the Fair Folk were devils. "And you are not at all free of burdens," she added. "That is all too easy to see."

  She shifted to look upon him better as she sat on the pitted stone bench that resembled a monument over a grave while her long, dark shadow flickered against the light about her like a black flame. “When I look at you,” she said, “I see darkness.” As Wolfgang, distracted, stared into the shadow, he thought he could feel it staring back at him. "The answer you have now is better than most get," she said. "At least you have seen him, and, though perhaps damned as he is,
you must realize he loves you. Why else would he have told you—in his own way, of course—who he was?"

  She was right about one thing. It was Wolfgang's passion for his family that had helped him survive this long in Doors. A passion that he felt was returned, and, even though things were growing more and more confusing, he still got the feeling that his family—changing as it was—still needed and loved him. If blood meant anything, then he was like his father, and his father was like him. Why wouldn't he be worthy of rescue? "It's a terrible fate," he said. "I want him to live. With me. And my stepmother."

  Wolfgang looked to the pool he had seen glowing with its odd light, expecting to see luminous plants or fishes or water faeries. But as his eyes gazed over the water, he saw only faces looming up and out, scared faces, faces that were human, and somehow not. And it was then that Wolfgang realized that the pool was not full of faeries or water or anything like he had previously thought. It was full of souls.

  "What—is this place?" he asked. "You said this was your home? Is the leader of SUN taken with drawing strength from human souls?"

  She smiled weakly. "One of SUN's tenets is to protect humans, as you know. This is what draws so many Fair Folk to us, and not to MOON, with their bloodlust and their unending thirst. Sometimes, the humans are...displaced. And something must happen to them."

  Wolfgang got the definite feeling that, should other members of SUN know about this place, they wouldn't be so eager to help her with her plans. This explained why this cavern was so heavily guarded: What the others didn't know wouldn't hurt them. There was a song in the air, the faint notes of a sad lullaby, and Wolfgang was sure that the sirens sang it. He felt inexplicably calm, a feeling that he knew was inspired by the magic and not by any true feelings of his. This place explained too much, just being here made him realize how deceptive SUN was, how much of this was like discovering child labor in a cellar beneath an orphanage. Supernaturals UNited was one of the few faerie organizations that Wolfgang had truly believed was designed to help humans in Doors—and not only did he believe this, but Marie and others who meant well believed this, too. He was sure his fake father and his stepmother believed it, or why else would they have raised Wolfgang here openly with the promise that there would be a place for him in SUN, as there had been a place for his father? Living in a well beneath the HQ was not, he was sure, what they had imagined, and he found that, as the tune shifted, he had to concentrate to keep his thoughts from wandering, from forgetting these discoveries which he counted on his human instincts to reveal. He reached into his pocket for his iron and silver talisman, which he stroked with his thumb as he often did for concentration.