Black City Demon

by Richard A. Knaak

  “Is there a chance that thing’ll come right back?” Claryce asked.

  “No.”

  She finally returned the revolver to her handbag. “What’s going on, Nick? Oberon’s dead, isn’t he? Things were supposed to calm down, weren’t they?”

  “Not as long as the Frost Moon’s still affecting both sides of the Gate . . . something our friend here should’ve explained to us . . . eh, Fetch?”

  “I’m sorry. . . . I didn’t think it’d last long! Mostly it lasts a few days, but it has been said to go weeks on a rare occasion! What could be done, anyway?”

  “A warning still would’ve helped.” I peered over my shoulder to make certain that Lon’d actually gone. “Let’s get going.”

  “Where to now?”

  I rubbed my chin. “Now, more than ever, I want to talk with Kravayik.”

  The weather slowed our drive, but finally we reached Holy Name Cathedral on Wabash. I parked near a drugstore where I knew I could find a telephone. My preference would’ve been to surprise Kravayik after he’d hung up on me, but unfortunately, the only way I was going to get to see him at all was to give him advance warning.

  The cathedral was a magnificent display of Gothic revival. True, it wasn’t a humble house of God, but as the base of the diocese, I supposed it needed to be grand to attract worshippers to the faith. I’d seen a lot more ostentatious in my centuries, some of them for the sake of the Lord, others just for the sake of the ruling class’s egos.

  “Wait here,” I told Claryce. I jumped into the drugstore and asked for the telephone. Fortunately, its location enabled me to keep an eye on Claryce and the Wills while I contacted Kravayik.

  I’ll give him credit. He knew it’d be me, but he still answered immediately.

  “Yes, Master Nicholas.”

  Not a question, but a statement. “I’m outside. I’ll be there in five minutes. You’ll be there.”

  “Yes.” He hung up.

  Returning to the car, I told Claryce about the brief conversation.

  “Should I stay here?” she asked.

  “No.” I still hadn’t told her all my suspicions concerning Kravayik and Claudette. “No. You’ll come with. Fetch—”

  “Yes, Master Nicholas. I stay in the car.”

  “In the car. Not in the vicinity. Not in the neighborhood.”

  “I swear I will.”

  Hoping I could trust him, I took Claryce’s arm. We headed for the arched entrance. At this time of day, there should’ve been little activity. The priests would be busy in other parts of the cathedral. That would leave us alone with Kravayik.

  The entrance opened just enough to admit us. With no service going on, the interior was full of shadow, as the priests conserved light.

  Despite some past misgivings, I instinctively made the cross as I entered. At the same time, from behind the door emerged a figure nearly as much shadow as Her Lady’s enforcer . . . not a surprise considering the similar backgrounds.

  Although only half as wide as me at the shoulder, Kravayik towered over both of us. He had piercing black eyes that if seen directly revealed themselves to be much too large and a nose barely more than a bump. His head stretched more than that of most humans and was flanked by ears sharply pointed. Like a monk, he had a ring of hair gracing his skull, but unlike them, his had a hint of emerald green in it.

  Kravayik’s employers did not see any of this. In fact, they often forgot that they’d even hired him. Kravayik remained in the shadows, tending to the cathedral and seeing to a particular task for me.

  “Master Nicholas. Mistress Claryce.” Finding religion’d done wonders for Kravayik, who, in my opinion, had once been an even stealthier killer than Lon. “A most pleasant surprise. Please. Follow me to my quarters. I have been experimenting—quite successfully, I think—with some gnocchi.”

  Kravayik had not only found religion, but he’d also found an almost religious obsession with Chicago’s Italian cuisine. His first forays had bordered on the frightening, but now there were restaurants in Little Italy that would’ve snapped him up as a chef if he’d been so inclined . . . and looked human enough in the bright light to not scare off the customers and staff.

  “Don’t distract, Kravayik. We’ve got important business to discuss.”

  “Is it about—that?” He tilted his head toward the altar.

  “No. No one hunts the card at the moment.”

  “Praise be . . .”

  I suddenly realized that there was another figure in the chamber. Right on cue, he formed just beyond Kravayik barely a minute after I’d stepped into the cathedral. It didn’t matter what church or similar structure I walked into; the odds were nearly overwhelming that Diocles would be there to torment me . . . and himself.

  I purposely ignored him. He glared, but remained silent. I had more important things to deal with than his constant regrets or my refusals to forgive.

  “You know why I called, Kravayik.”

  His gaze shifted ever so slightly to Claryce. “Master Nicholas—”

  “Don’t be afraid of disturbing me,” she interjected. “I’m tired of being left in the dark. I don’t know all of what Nick suspects, but I know he thinks you met my previous incarnation. A woman named Claudette.”

  “A very lovely name,” he replied noncommittally. Kravayik indicated the hall behind him. “Please. You must try my gnocchi.”

  We followed him back to his spartan quarters. A cross hung on one wall. A table with chairs stood across from a narrow bed.

  Behind the room was a tiny kitchen that I knew didn’t appear on any of the blueprints for Holy Name. Kravayik rarely left the cathedral. He had no interest in the outside world save where it served his purpose, but his only purpose these days concerned his prayers.

  Prayers and the local news, evidently. On another simple wooden table Kravayik himself might’ve carved sat what I recognized from its inexpensive, boxy shape as one of the Crosley 51 radios that were all the rage. Kravayik had it set on KYW, possibly meaning that in addition to religion and cooking he’d found opera as well. I pitied him if he’d done so. I’d been around when most of the operas had been written and heard them in so many variations I could hardly bear to listen to any now.

  We sat at the table while he brought us two small bowls filled with gnocchi. I had to admit it—and I saw by her expression that Claryce did, too—his gnocchi was excellent. Still, I’d had about all I could take of waiting and only an occasional glance by Claryce kept me from interrupting during the small meal. I couldn’t comprehend her patience, considering what this discussion concerned.

  Inside me, the dragon radiated impatience of his own. He had even less love for Kravayik than he did most other creatures, something that went beyond their recent struggle when the dragon’d betrayed me and tried to steal the Clothos card from Holy Name and its guardian . . . Kravayik. The dragon’d used my body to reach the altar where we kept the artifact hidden, but the power the card emanated had enabled Diocles of all people to warn Kravayik of the treachery. Even though Kravayik failed to stop him, the dragon had never forgiven the disruption in his plans.

  Finally, I decided Kravayik’d been given enough time to stall.

  “Tell me about Claudette,” Claryce quietly said before I could.

  “So many names. So many people I have met since I saw the light. Did you know—”

  I jumped to my feet. “She’s asked you much too nicely, Kravayik. If I have to ask again, it won’t be me alone.”

  His expression remained frustratingly even, but as he took the bowl from where I’d left it, he looked at Claryce. “You can imagine my shock when Master Nicholas brought you to me recently.”

  “You hid it well,” I pointed out.

  Kravayik put the bowl aside and clasped his overly long hands together. “May the Lord forgive me; I nearly shouted out with guilt what terrible deed I’d done!”

  That made both Claryce and I shift warily. I know I hadn’t been alone when I’d
wondered if he was responsible for Claudette’s death. Claryce grew pale, and her hand kept near the purse’s opening. Kravayik was fast, but if I took him on first, I was pretty certain that he’d been a part of the mortal plane long enough for bullets to work. I knew I could trust in Claryce’s aim.

  With one smooth motion that reminded me just how effective he’d been as one of the Court’s top executioners, Kravayik lunged toward Claryce. I already had the sword out before I saw that he’d fallen into a kneeling position before her.

  His tone beseeching, one of the deadliest members of the Feirie Court bent his head down in abject apology. “When I saw you with Master Nicholas, I thought that the Lord had seen fit to give me a second opportunity! I had failed to save you after you had saved me in both body and soul! I am so sorry, Mistress Claryce!”

  I had only seen Feirie folk shed tears in pain, not grief, but here was Kravayik, the most staid being I knew, with streaks of water coursing down his cheeks.

  Claryce sat shocked for a moment, and then, her eyes softening, she put a gentle hand on his forehead.

  I wasn’t as inclined to be forgiving, especially considering that he’d not gone into any detail as to how she’d passed on. “What’d you do to her, Kravayik? What happened?”

  “It is my fault, of course,” he muttered as he slowly rose. “My sins are legions. Pride. Hate. Sloth. Greed. I journeyed here with all the confidence of my kind and proceeded to fail at every turn.”

  Slowly sheathing the sword, I snarled, “Let’s begin with the most basic question. Did you—” I hesitated, not wanting to say it out loud before Claryce.

  “Did you kill me, Kravayik?” she asked without hesitation.

  He swallowed, then, to our relief, shook his head. “Nay, Mistress Claryce, though I might as well have been the one who caused your . . . death.”

  “How’d it happen?” I pressed him. “How’d you two come together long enough for this to happen?” I’ll admit it; there was a part of me that at that moment was grateful that apparently I’d not been responsible for the death of at least one incarnation. Yeah, it was a selfish, macabre thought, but I still welcomed it just then.

  Kravayik glided to where a small, brass teapot sat. He raised it toward us.

  I scowled. “Stop delaying.”

  He sighed. “Many are the sins I committed in the service of the Court. The—”

  “Georgius. . . .”

  I guess I should’ve expected that since Kravayik’s rooms were part of the cathedral, Diocles could materialize in them. I was about to tell him to go away, when I discovered that both Claryce and Kravayik were looking in his direction.

  “Is that—” she started.

  Before Claryce could finish, Fetch howled. For his warning to reach inside with such volume spoke of just how great the danger had to be.

  “Kravayik.”

  “Indeed.” With one swift motion, he set down the teapot and scooped up Claryce. To her credit, although she looked furious, she didn’t struggle. Kravayik brought her to a back wall that suddenly opened up.

  I knew that neither the builders nor the church elders had any inkling of a secret door in this part of the cathedral.

  “Something’s terribly different, Georgius,” Diocles announced to me as everyone else moved. “Something’s very different. You need to follow them—”

  The walls of Kravayik’s quarters blackened as something oozed from them.

  Damned moon. Damned wake. Even Holy Name wasn’t safe anymore.

  “Run!” Diocles warned. “It’s spread through most of this part of the church!”

  That stirred a fear in me, not for myself but for Claryce. I knew she was in capable hands, but until I could make sense of what was surrounding me, I couldn’t be sure she’d be safe even with—

  Part of the nearest wall shaped into a four-digit hand that grabbed for me. At the same time, I heard the flapping of huge wings.

  Diocles formed in front of me, trying, it appeared, to act as a shield despite having no substance. “Run after—”

  The grasping fingers turned into a set of small scythes that cut through the late emperor.

  Diocles scattered into thousands of pieces, as if he’d suddenly been transformed into a miniature snowstorm.

  The flapping grew ear-shattering—

  Unleash me! Unleash me!

  I didn’t argue. I let him loose.

  Or tried.

  And while we were both struggling to understand just why nothing happened, something struck our head with such strength we never did stay conscious long enough to see what the hand had in mind.

  CHAPTER 12

  “He made you sound like much more of a threat,” a voice I knew but couldn’t yet identify said from what sounded like the end of a deep tunnel. “Just goes to show, you can’t even believe in legends.”

  He seemed to amuse himself with the last statement, his chuckle echoing for several seconds in my head.

  That chuckle stirred more than myself. I felt the dragon also growing conscious. Conscious and angry.

  I quickly quelled him. I was still too weak to allow him to color my thoughts with his bestial rage. In fact, I was beginning to have some suspicions—

  “I am a bit curious as to where it went, but we’ll deal with that later.”

  My wits had recovered enough to recognize the voice. Of course, he’d not seemed to be interested in trying to disguise it. “Dr. Bond. Did you make up your mind about purchasing the property?”

  From far away, he laughed. “You know very well it wasn’t the property I wanted, but of course, with you there, I had to make an adjustment.”

  I bit back my anger. So, he’d wanted Claryce from the beginning. That made me worry for a moment that he now had her, but then I realized that if that’d been the case, he surely would’ve taunted me with the fact.

  “He said you were too lucky. You so often showed up at just the right moment. ‘Someone’s watching over him,’ he said.”

  Bond was being almost companionable with his conversation, giving me information I didn’t even know I wanted. Still, I couldn’t care less for now about his unnamed associate. Bond could tell me about that when I had Her Lady’s gift at his throat.

  Of course, I didn’t even have the sword. Either Bond’s servants had nabbed it or it’d been left behind. Whichever the case, I had to rely on myself . . . and my companion.

  I kept waiting for my vision to clear, but nothing changed. Finally, I gave in to the dragon’s insistence, at least in that case.

  The shift came, but very gradually, almost as if something had weakened our link to each other. At last, though, I could see my surroundings, such as they were.

  I was in some passage made of wood and metal, a passage that only a yard from where I sat shrank down until I would’ve needed to crawl to get anywhere.

  The dragon laughed. Let Eye burn away this manling’s rabbit den. . . .

  I said nothing, instead reaching a hand to the nearest wall. I felt something thick and wet. Whatever it was, I was of the belief that it wouldn’t be a wise idea to let the dragon’s flames touch it.

  “Yes, that’s a wise thought,” Bond commented from wherever he stood. “Fight fire with fire, you might say.”

  I appreciated that he’d verified my concerns about the dragon’s suggestion, but I was still at the end of my patience. “What do you want, Doctor?”

  “To walk beyond its shadow again, that’s all.” His remark was followed by a grating sound, which I suspected was the maze shifting form. There would be no use in memorizing a path. “But first, let’s deal with distilling what makes you be you. Thus far, for a saint, you’re not much of a dragon slayer.”

  The grating sound continued. I waited for Bond to speak, but there was only silence. I wasn’t just waiting for him, though; until now, my body hadn’t wanted to obey me well enough for me to trust my movements. Whatever Bond had done, he’d done it well.

  If he’d wanted me dead, he’
d had a better chance than many. Instead, he clearly wanted me to follow the passage in front of me. I supposed this could be some sadistic death trap, but, if so, it was one with a certain purpose. That meant that, at least for a time, he needed me alive.

  Eye can free us so quickly! Release me! Let it all burn!

  “That’s what the bastard wants,” I muttered to him. “I’ll keep in charge of things for now, you hear me?”

  Eye am bound to a fool.

  I didn’t argue then just as I’d never much argued before. If I’d been smarter, I’d never have taken on the dragon as I had in the first place. I’d have found out why he was where he was and not just assume he was stalking prey where instead he’d actually been guarding the Gate.

  All that was moot, of course. What was important was dealing with Bond. There was another reason why I’d avoided letting the dragon have his way. I still didn’t know with absolute certainty if the doctor had either Claryce or Fetch—or even Kravayik, with the way things were going—and until I did, I was willing to play along a little.

  Yes, Eye am definitely bound to a fool.

  Ignoring him, I crawled along the passage. The same odd, moist substance covered the walls no matter where I was. It also covered the floor, which meant soon my hands and knees were covered in it. Curiously, it had no discernible scent, not even when tested with the dragon’s sense of smell.

  I came to a juncture. I didn’t hesitate. I chose the path ahead.

  My choice bent to the right . . . and ended a few yards later. With the dragon snickering, I backtracked to the juncture again. I chose the path to my left and moved on.

  This time, we went a short distance until we found another intersection. Going with my success, I picked the left again. My head began to pound as I entered.