by Tim Waggoner
We were back in the great room. I stood at my usual place by the illusory fire, Varney once again leaned on the wall opposite me, but this time only Shamika sat on the couch. Bogdan was standing over next to me. We'd taken a moment to check on Tavi. The lyke was still unconscious, but the lower half of his body had begun to regenerate. The healing was proceeding at a glacial pace, and it might be days before he was whole again, if not longer, but at least he was healing.
Varney's optic implant had completely repaired itself by now, and his cybernetic eye glowed red. I had no doubt it functioned as a weapon as well as a camera, and though I'd chosen to holster my gun, I suspected Varney was – not to make a pun – keeping his eye on Shamika.
"But you don't look like an insect," Varney said. "You look human."
"I can look like whatever I want," Shamika said. "We didn't have any form before the Darklords arrived. We were one vast shadowy creature, stretching for hundreds of miles in all directions. But when the Darklords saw us moving and rippling in the dark, one of them thought we resembled a carpet of black insects, and so we took that form."
"Insects with obsidian gems for eyes?" Bogdan said.
"It was Varvara, wasn't it?" I said. "She was the Darklord who accidentally gave you form, and you gained gem-like eyes because she thought of a demonic version of an insect."
"That's right," Shamika said. "We kept that form for many years, even after we began to become aware of the Darkfolk as Others. Insects can go anywhere in a city. There are thousands of places to hide, and when insects are spotted, no one pays them much attention. It was a perfect guise to wear while we conducted our observations. But we are not limited to that form."
I thought of murals I'd seen on the walls of the Nightspire depicting images of the Darkfolk's origins and evolution. The Darkfolk had begun as amorphous shadow creatures that were psycho-reactive, and as humans evolved, the Darkfolk took on shapes and attributes inspired by humanity's fears and nightmares. The Shadowings evolved naturally, but humans had turned them into the Darkfolk. From what Shamika was saying, it sounded like something similar had happened in this dimension. Only in this case, it was the Darkfolk who had unwittingly turned the native life form into the Watchers.
A couple more pieces of the puzzle fell into place for me then. "When you got blasted outside Overhexed, I saw you fall apart, just like I did. Except that you were separated into your component pieces, and all you had to do was reassemble them. And those chiranha you called upon to deal with Magilla. They weren't really chiranha at all, were they? They were more components of you that took on the form of chiranhas."
"Right on both counts," Shamika said. "Since I'm not really Arcane, I can't perform any magic. I know lots about magic," she hastened to add. "I know all kinds of things from my years observing the Darkfolk. I just can't work any spells. So I used my abilities to fake magic powers."
"Why masquerade as a human?" I asked. "And why pose as Papa Chatha's niece in particular?"
I remembered when we'd been in Papa's workroom, and Dis appeared and froze time for everyone but him and me. He'd given Shamika a look then, almost as if he'd known who and what she was, but he hadn't said anything to me about it. Maybe he'd just sensed something odd about her but hadn't been able to put his finger on it. Then again, he was Father Dis, the single most powerful creature among all the Darkfolk that had ever existed. I had a hard time believing he hadn't recognized Shamika as a Watcher. But if he had, why hadn't he done anything about it? Why hadn't he at least warned me?
"I told you that Gregor and I are different manifestations of the same consciousness. Gregor is the part of us that fears Otherness. I am the part that is intrigued by it. Where he observes in order to gain knowledge to destroy the Darkfolk, I observe simply because I wish to learn more about you. I take on humanoid form so that I can move freely among you and interact." She smiled playfully, looking like the teenage girl she resembled. "It's a lot more fun that way. As for why I posed as Papa Chatha's niece… well, that's more complicated." Her smile faded. "Dis did destroy every one of us in Nekropolis after Gregor's plot to stop the Renewal Ceremony failed. Dis killed us all – both those who were Gregor and those who were me. But even though Dis is a god by your standards, even his power has limits, and only those Watchers within the city were slain. So we waited a bit and then more of us simply moved in." A ghost of her smile returned. "Just like real insects, we're damn hard to get rid of."
"But if Dis destroyed you both, how do you still have your memories?" I asked.
"We're not the same as you. Our memories aren't stored within a single body or even a thousand bodies for that matter." She pointed to the stump of my right wrist. "It's more like your injury. You've lost a hand, but you haven't lost the essence of who you are. It was the same with us."
I was about to ask Shamika another question when I had the strangest sensation that my right hand was moving – except of course I had no right hand. It was with Devona, wherever she was. I chalked the sensation up to the phantom limb syndrome that amputees often experience and decided to leave it at that. But it was a really weird feeling.
Thinking of Devona made me realize something else, and I felt a surge of new hope.
"If you and Gregor are different aspects of the same mind, that means you know what he knows," I said, "which means you know what happened to Devona!"
"I'm sorry, Matt, but it doesn't work like that. I wish it did. Gregor and I might technically be the same mind, but our different… viewpoints, for lack of a better word, have caused us to become separated. Right now, we're more like one mind suffering from multiple personality disorder, and our separate personalities can't and won't communicate." She smiled sadly. "In fact, Gregor views me as the ultimate proof of the contaminating effects of Otherness. Where once we were one, now we're two. He blames the Darkfolk for this schism in our shared being, and it's only strengthened his determination to see you all destroyed."
"What's the point of being an unimaginably vast shadow creature if you don't have access to all your memories? It's a damned inefficient way to run a group mind, if you ask me." I sighed. "I should've known it wouldn't be that easy."
"I watched you and Devona stop Gregor from disrupting the Renewal Ceremony, and when I learned that Gregor was abducting Arcane, I knew he had come up with a new plan to destroy the Darkfolk. I like watching the Darkfolk. They're interesting, and I've learned so much from them. I won't let Gregor hurt them, and I'll do whatever it takes to stop him. I tried to discover what his plan is, but though I searched throughout the city, I couldn't find where he'd taken the Arcane, nor could I discover what he wanted them for. I knew I needed help, and I immediately thought of you and Devona. And once Papa Chatha was abducted, I knew how I could approach you. I was too afraid to come to you as myself. I feared you wouldn't trust me if you knew who and what I really was. But if I posed as Papa Chatha's niece… I kept watch on you, and when I learned you were going to see him, I got to his home before you, let myself in, and waited."
She smiled almost shyly at me. "I've watched you since you first came to Nekropolis, Matt. I've seen you help so many people, solve problems that seemed unsolvable, triumph against impossible odds… I knew if anyone could stop Gregor, it would be you."
"By Merlin's ingrown toenails!" Bogdan said, sounding half amused, half irritated. "She's one of your fans!"
I ignored the warlock's comment, mostly because I had no idea what to say in response. I wasn't sure how I felt about being entertainment for a Watcher, even a seemingly harmless one like Shamika.
"That was you I saw in Devona's room at the Fever House, wasn't it?" I said to her. "Or one of you, at any rate."
She nodded.
I frowned. "How did you manage to get into Papa's place? You said you can't work any magic, and the wardspells on it…" I stopped as the answer occurred to me. "At one time you secretly observed Papa deactivating the wardspells to enter his home, so you knew how to do it."
Sh
e smiled again, looking proud of herself. "Like I said, I know a lot of things."
"I wish you'd trusted me with the truth from the beginning," I said, "but I can understand why you didn't. I honestly don't know how I would've reacted if you had told us who you really were, so maybe it's best you didn't."
Another huge chunk of the mystery had made itself clear to me, but I didn't see how knowing Shamika's true identity made much difference. I'd already learned that Gregor was behind the Arcane abductions, and I could assume that he used the same technique to teleport his chosen targets as he'd used to snatch Devona. Shamika confirmed it for me when I asked a moment later.
"We can't perform magic, but that doesn't mean we can't make use of it," she said. "Each insect carries a small teleportation gem in place of one of its eyes.
"We can do more than change our shape," Shamika said. "We can change our scent as well. Gregor left the scent of Demonkin at the site of each abduction. Not strong evidence, but more than enough to convince Talaith, who has a highly suspicious and accusatory nature."
Yet another piece of the puzzle slid into place. "That's how Gregor lured us to the Grotesquerie. He imitated Papa Chatha's scent and laid a false trail for Tavi to find – a trail that ended at the Grotesquerie. And once Tavi was inside, Gregor's insects released Titanus, and then when we arrived, they released the rest of the monsters. Guess he wanted to stop us from finding out what he was up to." I frowned. "But why would he abduct Devona? She's not a magic-user. She deals with magic in her security work, but she doesn't actually cast spells."
"I understand why Gregor had to lure Devona outside to teleport her," Bogdan said. "The mystical defenses on the building prevent any of his insects from entering without one of us letting them in. What I don't understand is how he compelled Devona to go outside in the first place."
"I can answer that," Shamika said. "When Matt and Devona were investigating the theft of the Dawnstone, Devona agreed to carry one of Gregor's insects with her. At the time, they still believed Gregor was nothing more than an information broker, and that was the price he asked for his help. Unfortunately, she had to carry the insect inside her."
I shuddered at the memory of the insect burrowing its way into her ear. Devona's half-vampire physiology had allowed her to withstand the pain of the insect's entry into her body, but it had been far from pleasant for her.
"But that insect left her body after Gregor's plan to stop the Renewal Ceremony failed," I said.
"Yes, but it left some residue of itself behind," Shamika said. "Not enough to harm her, but enough to influence her mind should the need ever arise. Gregor wanted to abduct her, but he couldn't physically reach her in here, so he made her go outside using a post-hypnotic suggestion he telepathically implanted in her mind earlier, probably when we were at the Grotesquerie."
"But that brings us back to the question of why he wanted to abduct her," Bogdan said. "She isn't a magic-user, and it doesn't appear Gregor wants to hold her hostage. So why did her take her?"
I remembered then what Varvara had told Devona and I about our children during our visit to Demon's Roost.
I can't tell too much about them. The magic that surrounds them is too strong and too different from anything I've ever encountered before. But they're going to be very special children, that I can promise you.
A horrible realization occurred to me. "Devona might not possess magic, but our babies do – or at least they will. Strong magic. Varvara told us so. And when Galm visited us in the Fever House, he pretty much said the same thing, although at the time we all thought Devona was only going to have one child. Galm didn't know what kind of magic our children would have, but he said it would be powerful and he was determined to control it if he could."
"It's true," Varney said. "Lord Galm does believe your progeny will possess great power. But that's not the sole reason he charged me with protecting his daughter. He is truly concerned with her welfare."
"Forgive me for being skeptical," I said, "but I've never known a Darklord yet who wasn't concerned primarily with satisfying his or her own needs." Although Dis was different, I thought. He might be the darkest of dark gods, but I'd only known him to act in his people's best interest. Still, that didn't mean I trusted him fully.
"Believe what you wish," Varney said evenly. "It doesn't alter the truth."
I expected Varney to stand up for his lord and master, and I almost said so, but now wasn't the time to get sidetracked by petty bickering. We needed to stay focused so we could find Devona and stop Gregor from doing whatever nasty thing he was planning.
"Maybe Gregor plans to use the twins' magic somehow," I said. "Even if they aren't born yet." I felt a chill in my soul then, and I turned to Bogdan. "Will Gregor… I mean, in order to use the twins' magic, will he need to…" I couldn't bring myself to say it.
Bogdan put a hand on my shoulder. "If he intends to draw upon their power, he will need them alive and healthy. That means he won't harm them or their mother."
A wave of relief washed over me. Bogdan's words rang true. The Gregor I'd known was cold and calculating, not given to reacting emotionally. If it was in his best interests to keep Devona alive, he'd do so. I turned my attention back to the problem at hand. "But what does he need that power for?"
Before anyone else could speak, my vox let out with its obnoxious ring-ring-ring. Without thinking, I reached for it with my right hand, and though I no longer had a right hand, I once again felt the strange sensation of it moving. I used my left hand instead, pulled my vox out of my pocket, and opened it.
"Hello?" I said.
"Matt, I don't have a lot of time, so listen closely."
It was Scorch, and she was speaking softly, as if she didn't want to be overheard.
"Several squads of demons were deployed a few minutes ago, and the rumor going around Demon's Roost is that they're headed for the Midnight Watch. Supposedly Klamm's spies have come up with some kind of evidence linking you to the magic-users' abductions, and he wants you brought in for questioning. I've got to go before I'm caught talking to you. Good luck."
She disconnected before I could thank her. I tucked my vox back into my pocket, and told the others what she'd said.
"So since Gregor failed to kill you at the Grotesquerie, he's trying to frame you now," Bogdan said. "I wonder what evidence he created for Klamm's people to find."
It was the look on Shamika's face that made me realize the truth. I remembered the way she and Klamm had looked at one another in Demon's Roost, almost as if they'd recognized each other.
I looked at Shamika. "Klamm didn't need any evidence, did he? Because he's really Gregor in disguise."
She nodded. "I didn't know he'd taken another form until we were in Varvara's penthouse, and since you didn't know the truth about me then, I couldn't tell you about him. I'm sorry."
"It makes good tactical sense," Varney said. "It's a lot easier for him to use war as a distraction when he can take a direct hand in guiding Varvara's strategy."
"He's playing a dangerous game," I said. "He might be able to fool Varvara for a time, especially if her attention is focused on her war with Talaith, but she's a Darklord. He won't be able to fool her forever."
"Maybe he just needs to fool her long enough to accomplish whatever his ultimate goal is," Varney said.
"I hate to interrupt your theorizing," Bogdan said, "but have you forgotten what Scorch told you? Demons are on their way here to arrest you, Matt. You need to get out of here before-"
There was a loud pounding at the front door.
"-they arrive," he finished.
The portable Mind's Eye set that someone had brought into the great room to watch Varney's "improved" footage of me was still there. All the sets in the building were programmed to display images from the Midnight Watch's security cameras on command, so I activated this one and mentally commanded it to show us the view from the frontdoor camera. A squadron of demon soldiers had cordoned off the street and stood i
n ranks outside the Midnight Watch. They were all armed and had their weapons drawn and aimed at the front door. Which, I thought, was unfortunate for the poor sonofabitch who was currently knocking on it.
"That guy better hope his people don't have itchy trigger fingers," I said.
The demon resembled a satyr – horned, bearded, with hairy black goat legs – except his skin was turquoise and he had a mass of tentacles growing out of his back. He looked supremely unhappy at having been chosen for the dubious honor of knocking on my door, almost as if he feared it was booby-trapped and would explode in his face. Too bad it wasn't. Maybe I'd talk to Devona about adding that feature.
The demon might have been nervous, but when he spoke, his voice was deep and steady. "Matthew Richter! We know you're in there! In the name of the Darklord Varvara, we order you to exit the building and surrender to us for questioning!"
"Too bad Scorch didn't call a couple minutes earlier," I said. "We'd have had time to sneak out." I commanded the Mind's Eye to show us a view of the back entrance, and the scene was the same – a squad of armed demons stood outside, weapons aimed at the door. I checked the alley cameras and saw demons there as well. The roof camera showed several greasy black spots where flying demons had attempted to land, only to encounter the defenses in place there. A dozen more demons hovered twenty feet above the roof, weapons out and ready, unwilling to come any closer and risk sharing their comrades' fate, but still determined to catch anyone who might try to use the roof as an escape route.
I commanded the Mind's Eye to display the front view once more. The turquoise satyr was still talking, but he'd taken several steps back from the door, and a number of demons in the squad were hurriedly assembling some kind of large weapon in the street.
"If you refuse to turn yourself over to us voluntarily, we will be forced to come in and get you," the satyr said. "You have two minutes to decide."
