It wouldn’t stop there, though. I’d confronted a variation on this a couple of times over the centuries. Father William would never be the same. There’d be some tremendous benefits . . . but there’d also be some repercussions.
Neither I nor the mortal world could afford the latter. I steeled myself.
Eye will do it for you. . . let me bear the guilt. . . I will do that. . .
“Shut up!” He’d enjoy that, knowing I’d always have to think about having turned responsibility over to him.
Then, at the very least. . . let me give you the tools . . .
I felt my hands tingle. If I accepted, they’d become tools all right. Efficient killing tools.
“Keep your claws,” I muttered. Before he could make another tempting offer, I reached down, gripped Father William’s head . . . and twisted it. I felt some guilt that his apparent idolization of me as St. George had left him open to her manipulation, but there was nothing I could’ve done to change things.
The dragon’s blood hadn’t become enough a part of him to deal with a broken neck. This time, the priest died properly.
Signing the cross for whatever it was worth in regard to me, I looked to Fetch. “Where are we?”
“Just a block from St. Patrick’s! I smelled your scent and followed it here.”
“And how’d you know to come to this area at all?”
“The stained glass. Didn’t tell ye. Some symbols I saw were of Feirie. With them in there, ye’d need double the blessing to make this place holy. The Wyld we slew verified that and I thought it nothing more . . . until on a hunch I came back and smelled some elf scent the creature’s presence had covered. I ran back to tell ye . . . and ye were gone from the house. Had to follow your scent all the way back here again. I’m damned tired, I tell ye.”
Considering he’d still managed to find me soon enough to help, I forewent any reprimand. Besides, we had a sticky situation. It didn’t please me, but I did as I’d done so many times in the past. I adjusted the scene as needed to prevent anyone from getting too near the truth. Checking her goons, I saw that they’d been halfway dead anyway. She’d been devouring their lives much like a vampire would. Another two or three feedings and they’d have ended up just more corpses found in bloody Chicago.
“What is this place?” I’d seen nothing thus far but this room.
“Old business, Master Nicholas. Shut down, it looks like, but her scent’s everywhere. She used this for some time.”
“So, no one’ll be coming here soon.” It was tempting to leave the bodies, but I couldn’t even do that. Keeping the mortal plane ignorant of Feirie meant bending not only laws, but morals. For a saint, I’d bent morals quite a lot over the centuries. Out of necessity, of course.
“Step back, Fetch.”
He looked uneasy. “Master Nicholas—”
“Yeah, I know. Got to be done.”
Ears flat, he scurried out of the room. I hefted poor Father William over to the other bodies.
“Sorry you had to become a part of this, Father.” She’d planned everything for a long time. I was certain of that. She’d probably watched several priests, looking for weaknesses. His had just been an admiration for a hero with very clay feet.
Eye can help, the dragon whispered again.
“You already know I need you for this part,” I grumbled. “But we do it carefully. Not like fifty years ago.”
Of course. Eye promise . . .
I never trusted his promises. Still, I had no choice. I opened myself to him.
The world receded. It was as if I stood watching the scene from a theater seat and yet I knew I was still there, still the dominant part of us.
I opened my mouth. Our mouth.
I did what any good dragon did. I burned things.
It took only seconds for the three bodies to be reduced to ash. Nothing burns so completely as a dragon’s fire.
Father William would become just another missing person. I hated that, but there was no other option. His file would eventually be put with all the others.
There was just a slight hint of smoke by the time we left the abandoned building. I considered going to the Feirie Court and demanding to be told what else besides Oberon’s daughter Her Lady’d left out about her realm’s past, then decided against it. I’d just hear more Feirie lies.
Fetch stayed with me as I tracked down the Whiting. They hadn’t had time to move it, for which I was grateful. I felt as if I’d fought the dragon all over again. I looked forward to getting home and sleeping, regular nightmare and all.
There were few lights nearby, the Black City living up to its name tonight. When the organizers of the Columbia Exposition had set up everything back in 1893, their big displays had included covering nearby buildings in white facades to make them look more like classical structures. The White City. The hypocrisy considering what the real Chicago looked like had inspired some people to refer to the rest as the Black City. Over the decades, I’d found the latter title to be far more apt . . . especially tonight. It made my own place here even more understandable. What more appropriate protector of the Black City than a tainted saint? Tonight wasn’t the first time I’d had to do things that I wasn’t proud of and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. There’d be other Father Williams. Too many of them.
Fetch leaped into the passenger seat next to me, but kept quiet this time. He knew better. I started up the Whiting and we left the area of St. Patrick’s behind us, two more shadows adding to the darkness.
Two more shadows in the blackest of cities.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Tony DiMatteo and Ross Bishop for their contributions to this story.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Richard A. Knaak is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Legend of Huma, Kaz the Minotaur, World of Warcraft: Wolfheart, Legends of the Dragonrealm, Black City Saint, Black City Demon, Rex Draconis, and many more. In addition to his own works, he has contributed to a number of series, including Dragonlance, World of Warcraft, Diablo, Pathfinder, and Conan. He has also written manga, comics, and gaming-related material. His work has been published worldwide and in a number of languages.
His most recent publications include Lords of the Dragon Moon— second in his Rex Draconis epic fantasy series—the Permuted Press edition of his Turning War trilogy for the Dragonrealm, and Climate Changeling for The Flash.
Currently he is at work on more Rex Draconis, an online saga for the popular Pillars of Eternity, and other projects to be announced shortly.
And, of course, plotting the next in Nick’s saga.
More about the author can found at his website at http://www.richardallenknaak.com.
Please also Like his Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/richardallenknaak/ and join him on Twitter at @RichardAKnaak.
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