"What will happen to them?" he asked. "What are they for?"
"The future of Doors must be decided," she explained with a far away look. "When I see the future, I see two fates. Only one of them holds the victory of SUN in this horrible and pointless battle for conquest of the city. In the other, we are doomed, banished, scattered and lost amongst the worlds, perhaps never to return." The tension of genuine fear strained her voices, and Wolfgang became convinced that she believed whatever it was that she saw to be real. He wanted to question her, but knew better. If a fae said that she saw the future, there was no point in arguing, because she would never doubt her magic. That was kind of the point of being a fae, or anything that draws its magic from faith. In fact, without faith, she might very well cease to exist. "These souls are needed for SUN to win. So have I seen it, so have I made our plans, based largely on your father's work and sacrifice. You should be proud. He shall live on in our success." As she rose, Wolfgang was convinced that she was more than a fae. An angel, or even a goddess of a small universe. Almost as tall as Wolfgang, golden locks fell in thick cords from beneath her cowl, and the scent of a strawberry meadow in the summer sunshine bloomed in the air around them, released from her robes with her movement. Summer sunshine...and damp, dead earth. "Which is why you need not feel regret, should you change your mind about seeking his fate. His legend will live on in all of us, and these brave souls here thank him, as do We. As do we all."
Drawn again to stare at the pool of agonized faces, he wondered just how thankful those souls really were. "I feel it's my duty to learn the truth," Wolfgang said. "I don't know how to explain it. I feel that, by giving me this card, he was asking for my help."
She did not seem happy to hear that. She frowned for the first time since Wolfgang entered, a look he had thought her charming visage incapable of. The shadow behind her seemed to grow or darken if that were possible. The howling of tiny voices in protest rose from where the darkness enveloped their source. "I am sure it was a sign to put you at peace," she said. The second voice, the deep undertone, rasped, almost hoarse. "Why would he even need your help?"
"Because he cannot help himself?" Wolfgang thought this reply obvious.
"You really think that your father could not help himself? A man so clever, his inventions rival the power of artifacts, gifts of the gods. You honestly believe a man of that kind of skill and intellect could not save himself, if he wanted to?"
Wolfgang shrugged. "We all make mistakes. We all need help sometimes."
"Not all," she said with a laugh that comes from knowing. "Most, but not all. That is a lie the weak tell themselves." She locked eyes with him and he saw in hers the immenseness of oceans and clouds, saw in them a turning world. A world that he could feel his mortal heart long for, as if he had seen heaven through her and now knew it was real. "You want to know what happened to his soul?"
Wolfgang drew back from the sensation of someone crawling through his thoughts. But, no, she hadn't done that. That feeling came from his own heightened emotions. It was her golden tongue, that gift of the fae, to make common knowledge seem special, as if she'd drawn some secret out of him. But Markus' soul was why he was here, and she knew that. Everyone he'd spoken to in SUN HQ this day so far knew that. It was crucial in this place to not get carried away with fear. Fae were like animals: They sensed fear. Some even thrived off it. After finding his courage again, he spoke, "I can guess. I know that his soul was taken from him. And that SUN was responsible."
"By his own hand," she explained. "But not by his heart."
For a moment, he feared she meant suicide, but then it all made sense. "His weapon," he said. She nodded slowly, her hood bobbing slightly with the motion, like the sail of a ship in the wind. "What happened to it then?"
"I cannot say," Lady Welt explained. Her double voices slinked low with a certainty that told him there was no doubting her words, and that arguing would prove pointless.
That was not what he expected. "What? Where is he?" When she did not answer, horror crept into his heart. An old fae, a riddle-maker. Life or death meant nothing compared to the ego boost of tricking humans. "You can't say, or you won't say?"
"I cannot claim to know," she said.
"Like hell you can't!" Wolfgang felt all the blood in his body drain to his feet, then all his strength flow out of him through the floor. To say outright that she didn't want to tell him would not be any fun. Words were cheap to the fae, who felt words were beneath them and loved to turn mortals' useless languages back on them. Because the fae could communicate with scents, emotions, or even telepathy, it was only logical, and Wolfgang could even rationalize their hatred when he realized it made no sense to respect the people you prey upon. His outburst came as no surprise to the Lady; her expression remained passive, disinterested, the same brooding distance that Marie often gave him. The look that had always made him feel more like a specimen than a friend. "It's always riddles with...the Fair Folk," he said, angry enough to show it, but not enough to grow stupid and insult and enrage her here, in the middle of her own fortress.
"It's always boring anger from souls," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. She returned to her seat. "So expected. No surprise that you can't get what you want. Simone thinks that you are the opposite of your father. Perhaps she is right. Have you ever done anything to help your own kind?"
He could see where this was going. Weird, he thought, how people always assume their own faults to be the faults of others. A thief believes that everyone is a thief, and a liar thinks that everyone lies. And the Lady thinks that all humans are selfish, when it is so obvious that she is the one with the problem. "SUN is prepared to rise and take over all of Doors," she said proudly. "But you must understand that sacrifices will be required to do so. We need help from every one of our members. It would be wonderful should you wish to follow in your father's footsteps and join us. Remember, too, that those who are not with us, are against us." This last part was said rather candidly, a clear and unabashed warning.
"It sounds as if you are saying I don't have a choice."
"Everyone has a choice," she said. "But why would you choose to remain with the losers? We look at your history, and We ask Ourselves, why are you so determined to fail? And you have not even done anything to help your own kind that we are aware of. If you'll do anything to remain human, why do you not aid them?"
Wolfgang thought of Leonie, and how much he wanted to help her, how much he wanted her to stay pure, stay human. "Are you so sure that SUN will win?"
"Ah, so that is your problem. Doubt. Suspicion. That is surprising, considering your dogged pursuit of your father. We would like to remind you, Herr Schäfer, that it is not what you are that matters so much in your rather short and heretofore aimless life, but rather, who you are. Those who wait to join the winner at the end of a bloody battle may find themselves unneeded, or perhaps, more to the point, unwanted."
"So, join or die."
"We did not say that. Fight with SUN or against us, that choice is yours." She smiled a wicked grin, the guise of a true monster. Beauty did nothing to shield the raw selfishness and surety, lording her plan before him like a wolf before a fresh kill. "Join MOON. See if they accept you with open arms as you are, a mere mortal. But you may end up having to serve us, after all. If you are lucky."
He knew she was about to get rid of him. He had a better chance of her helping him if they had some common ground—if they both agreed that she was superior. Because, for her, like most fae, happiness meant, in a word, flattery. Her true world, everything that mattered to her, was inside her. She only loved herself. "You're right," he said as sincerely as he could manage. "I'm sorry."
She made no effort to hide her shock. "You admit to your faults, then?" she asked, surprise heavy in both voices.
"Everyone has faults," he said. "I am no different."
She thought a moment, the string turning in her hands. "Then We will give you some aid," she said. "A starting pl
ace for the answers you seek." She drew the string she was toying with to the length of her forearm and held it up before Wolfgang. It looked exactly like the talisman False Markus had given him. A dark stone even hung from it, spinning like a mirror. "Take this talisman. Wear it like a necklace. It will provide you with dreams to show you where to go." Wolfgang felt a chill come over him as he neared the Lady to accept the gift. A wind born from the dark side of her shadow had drifted toward him and slipped against his face, caressing it in a cold touch.
"You mean, where to find my father?" he asked. Her hands were warm and soft as she fastened the cord in a special knot, around once, then twice, forming several loops.
"Where you belong." She leaned back, satisfied with her work as she looked him up and down.
He said the only thing that came to mind. "Thank you."
"When you are done with your journey," she added, "perhaps you will come to realize the truth in what I have said."
He looked down at the pendant that hung on his chest. The colorful string had turned to gold. Grateful for the enchanted gift and not wishing to offend her further, Wolfgang bowed and followed the bold woven patterns laid into the marble floor leading back from where he came.
Satisfied that Wolfgang was gone from her secret chamber, Lady Welt drew her hood forward to cover her beauty and free her second face. The youthful visage fell away, hidden beneath the folds of the hood, and an old, decaying skull, bald and eyeless, melted from the shadows on the opposite side, haloed by the glowing light that had been before her but now bloomed behind her. Bones shifted and her lithe body turned, making her back become her front. The creatures who dwelled within her dark side writhed and sang in a chirping and screeching cacophony. The deep shadow laid before her now, and the light side draped behind. This was her favorite face, of late; the opposite of dawn, the nightfall; the destroyer, so that, from the loss, all can be made new. Winter must come to pave a way for spring. Doors would have to fall to be rebuilt, she knew. And the humans would be built in it. Their souls will be the cornerstone of a new city, a city founded not with their blood as the old city was, but with their being. "We have sent him to his death," she told her new champion as he stepped from his hiding place in the shadows. "See to it that he finds it." The doppelganger of Wolfgang Schäfer, that other, left to perform the task he had been born for.
"All answers shall be his, soon enough," she whispered.
ACT 3
Hwær cwom mearg? Hwær cwom mago?
—The Wanderer
Chapter 16
"YOU MADE IT BACK!" LEONIE said in greeting. Wolfgang could see the excitement in her eyes all the way across the expanse of the weapons laboratory where she sat on the stool he normally took. “Your father came back while we were waiting for you.” Wolfgang looked around for the rest of “we” but didn’t see Marie or Pilgrim anywhere. There in the middle of the room, working on a weapon of some sort, was the man he had always called father who didn’t act as if he knew he had been found out.
“My son! Welcome home,” this Markus chortled as he approached. “How was your trip to the Hindernis? Did you find what you were looking for?”
Wolfgang narrowed his eyes and pushed his glasses up against his face to better study this man. He had never seen this expression on his face before. His eyes held a wildness, a lack of control that Wolfgang could not recognize. “Dad, are you okay?”
“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“Wolfgang! Look out,” Marie shouted after bursting through the double doors. “He’s not your dad. It’s a trap.”
Wolfgang turned to see the changeling return to his null form. He recognized himself easily beneath the long, sticky hair and coat, army boots and inappropriate grin. It was like looking in a warped mirror, one that only showed all the worst sides of a person. “You’re the guy who took my name in that other world and ruined it.” He said this mainly for Leonie’s benefit, but he wanted to make clear just how much he appreciated his name being drawn through the mud, an identity that he could no longer claim in that other world, the human world.
“In the flesh,” he said, and managed a weak little mocking bow.
“It’s people like you,” Wolfgang said, “that make me wish I was a monster.”
“Ah. Envy, huh?”
“No. I wish I was a monster so I could be strong enough to beat the life out of you with my bare hands.” He drew Vogelfang over his shoulder. “But I’ll have to do it with this instead.”
“Big talk.”
“Where’s the old scientist who works here? The one pretending to be my dad? What did you do to him?”
“Dead. Pretty sure. Well, I don’t know, but I think dead. I gutted him good.” He drew a knife which Wolfgang presumed was the knife he had used to hurt his father, the man who may have been lying to him about his identity, but had raised him none-the-less. “Thought you might like to hear that.”
Rage pumped Wolfgang’s blood, giving him exceptional strength, but he could not give this murdering slime any advantage. He had to keep a cool head or he would be killed and his father’s salvation would die with him. Wolfgang struck out against the knife with his halberd, and the changeling dropped it low to grab the halberd’s shaft, pulling it forward with the strike and in one fluid motion spun behind him to clip the invisible Marie, who had been sneaking up on him all the while they were talking. She cried out in pain and gripped her arm after stumbling back, pushed by the blow. Wolfgang used the distraction to attack, swinging Vogelfang’s shaft the other way and hard against the changeling’s throat. One thing was clear—Wolfgang was pulling no punches this time, not against a piece of work like this guy.
It sounded like he wanted to shout out a curse, but only a gurgle and some blood spewed from his mouth. “You sound better that way,” Wolfgang said, spinning the halberd back and away. “Say it again.”
The Devil shone from his enemy’s eyes as he recovered and lunged at Wolfgang, but by now, Marie was also back on the attack, her own dagger drawn and ready. She stuck his back with what seemed to be all of her might, and Wolfgang watched as his twin stumbled, almost collapsing. With a panicked look, he vanished, as did Marie. Wolfgang backed up against a bookcase so he couldn’t be attacked from behind. A moment later, three Wolfgangs roamed the laboratory. But the doppelganger had a new plan: He grabbed a weapon from a table, a weapon that Wolfgang recognized as his father’s soul-stealing device, and turned it on Leonie. At the double doors, hostage in tow, the doppelganger paused and wheezed in spite of the pain it must have caused him, “I’ll fix my mother’s mistake. I swear.”
“The only mistake your mother made was you,” Wolfgang shouted after him.
“Should we chase him?” Marie asked, turning back into her null form.
“Of course,” he said. “Just don’t let him see you.”
“Just be careful, Wolfgang. I'd hate to think what will happen if he gets you alone.”
“There’s no time to worry about it. We’ll lose him. Where’s Pilgrim?”
“Probably outside. You know he hates being underground.”
“Hopefully he’ll cut them off if they get to him first.” Wolfgang started for the door, and Marie rushed ahead, vanishing to go unnoticed by her quarry. Wolfgang hoped their discussion, however brief, hadn’t given his doppelganger enough time to get away.
☽☉✩
THERE WAS A CHILL IN the air that spoke of summer waning even though it was mid summer, like the realization of death that comes finally for everything. Just a thought on the wind, just the idea of the end came to Wolfgang; the thought of cold nights and falling leaves which awaited everyone who held on long enough to see autumn approach. He looked up to the sky swept with blue and swaths of hot, dry clouds hoping to see a sign, if not from his father, then from any higher power to help him find his way. He hadn't really expected SUN to help him and wondered if confronting Lady Welt had been such a good idea, but he’d had no other choice. Who else knew a
bout his father's secret work? Even Wolfgang as a progeny of the doctor had no clue about anything game-changing enough that could turn the tide of the turf war that had raged in Doors since before he was born.
"I can tell by the way you're acting that you either don't know what's going on or you're unfathomably dense. Perhaps both." Of course Wolfgang didn't hear him approach. No one hears a vampire approach. Deathless creatures travel in their own ways, unlike mere mortals, even in the charmed Land of Eternal Youth. But Raphael did not always sneak up on his prey. He preferred to stalk it and let his stalking be known to increase the terror in his victims. Wolfgang knew this, but they both knew that Wolfgang wouldn't be scared so easily. Not by Raphael. He knew him too well, knew when he was dangerous and when he was sated, like denizens of the jungle know the leopard, especially the leopard they had known since it was a cub. This greeting was unusual for Raphael; no grandstanding, he wanted everything about this to be a secret, and Wolfgang needed to know why.
"What do you want, Brad?" Wolfgang didn't even try to disguise the disgust which petered out into his voice. He figured this was about Leonie, but he wasn't about to give her up easily to the self-destructive forces of MOON. But the fact that Wolfgang could not trust SUN anymore worried him. He was becoming more and more outcast in a world where the chance of survival depended heavily on how many creatures could be counted as friends. And he could really use a friend right now. All he had were growing numbers of enemies.
Ghost of Doors (City of Doors) Page 16
