Black City Saint

by Richard A. Knaak

  I sense him nowhere.

  Her use of “I” intrigued me almost as much as her information did. Her Lady couldn’t sense any hint of Oberon. That meant that this time I’d finally gotten that part of the job done right . . . I hoped.

  They sing of you in all Feirie . . .

  “Because you order them to?” I was startled to find I had a voice in this . . . whatever it was.

  They sing because you are the one to vanquish . . . Oberon . . .

  I could see where that might actually have earned me praises in Feirie, at least outwardly. Despite Her Lady’s word, I doubted that so many of her subjects were that happy their former lord was dead . . .

  Speaking of dead . . . “And have you come to take my soul?”

  I expected her to laugh, but instead, she answered in a surprisingly reflective tone, Only if you gave it freely . . .

  Her Lady leaned close—very close—and the scent of lilacs bathed my nostrils. I knew what she wanted me to do, but I held back.

  Showing no disappointment, she pulled back. The Court is always open to you, Gatekeeper . . . and a seat beside me as well . . .

  Her Lady started to fade.

  “Wait!”

  She solidified again, her smile more enticing.

  I doused her spirits immediately. “Oberon . . . he is dead, right? He’s nothing but ash, isn’t he?”

  Let us assume that he is more dead than he was last time, Her Lady replied cryptically. A slight smile returning to her perfect features, she added, Until then, I shall keep a special eye on my champion . . . for his own safety . . .

  With that, she was gone.

  “Nick!”

  The false Court vanished. I felt a sense of displacement, then figured out that I now lay on my back in the sand. I also managed to figure out that something had happened to heal me of not only the fall but the poisoned spear, too.

  “You said she’d cured him!” Claryce shouted. “You promised!”

  “You had the sword pointed at her, Mistress Claryce! She swore by it and swore that she’d drawn the poison out! She wouldn’t pull a double-cross then! It was the least she could do, she said . . .”

  I was surprised to hear Fetch. Surprised and still bitter. I knew that he’d betrayed me. That, more than even Claryce, forced me completely conscious. I snatched at where I heard Fetch’s voice and was rewarded by his startled yelp as he managed to pull his leg free of my still-weak grip.

  “You can—can run,” I rasped, “but I’ll find you . . .”

  Claryce seized me by the arms, in the process blocking my view of the lycanthrope. The sword lay nearby, and she had the dagger thrust in her belt. I didn’t want to think what she’d had to do to retrieve the latter. “Nick! Listen! He helped save you! I know—I know what he did before, but he came back to his senses in the end!”

  There was shouting going on somewhere in the dark, but I didn’t care about it for the moment. Fetch’s half-seen lupine form shifted behind Claryce. I forced her aside enough to get a better look—

  If I’d not known better, I’d have sworn that he’d died after those gunshots Cortez’d pumped into him. Fetch was back to his mongrel self, but a soaking wet, emaciated, ragged, and even burnt variation. “What happened to you?”

  “Everything,” he muttered. “Master Nicholas . . . ye knew Oberon . . . but ye didn’t know Oberon . . . ye never knew the full seductive powers at his command, the way he can twist one’s desires and make one agree to what they regret . . . only too late.”

  He turned to the side. I saw that his entire spine was scorched black.

  “What’s that from?”

  “The thing he set in me to poison ye. I’d no sooner agreed to doing his bidding to bring Feirie to safety and be returned to my station than he used my bound word to seal that beast within!” His ears flattened. “I could feel it squirming in there! Like a flapper gone giddy! It drove me mad!”

  “So what happened to it?”

  He grinned in a manner not possible for normal animals. “Mistress Claryce did some carving with that big shiv! Sliced it right outta me . . .”

  “It was disgusting,” she interjected. “Like some kind of giant slug . . . I ran it through for good measure and the sword just absorbed it!”

  “’Twas a myurka,” the shapeshifter added. “The Court often used their poison . . .”

  That made me wince for him. “Couldn’t have been pleasant.”

  The grin vanished. “Better’n I deserve . . . and not near as painful as when ye landed atop me—”

  “I did what?”

  “He helped save you,” Claryce explained, assisting me to a sitting position. Whatever Her Lady’d done had healed me pretty good. I wasn’t about to feel beholden to her, though, not after all her subterfuge.

  “He caught you,” Claryce continued, pleading Fetch’s case. “Nick, he broke his back catching you! He was still—still—”

  “I was still my original self . . . the one ye remember, Master Nicholas. I was already changing again, but I thought I had time . . .”

  Even if I didn’t trust Fetch, I did trust Claryce. “He did that.”

  “Yes . . . if it wasn’t for . . . for her . . . he’d probably be dead from the injuries.”

  I believed her. I was grateful to Fetch, but looking at him, I knew there was something I still wasn’t being told. I had a suspicion I knew what it was. “What did she offer you?”

  He had the decency to look guiltier. “A place at her feet. Her loyal servant once more . . .”

  “A high honor . . . and you said . . .”

  Fetch nervously cleared his throat. “Said I’d have to stay here and keep watch on a so-called saint who’d be dead a dozen times over without my guidance . . .”

  I rewarded him with a grunt. He took that as a sign I wasn’t going to use Her Lady’s gift to slice him in two and wagged his tail. Matters weren’t right between us, but I couldn’t deny I’d needed Fetch in the past and probably would need him in the future.

  Fetch shifted and I saw behind him the spear. I understood now why he was also soaking wet. He’d gone and retrieved the spear, though how he’d survived underwater long enough with all his other injuries I couldn’t say.

  “Thanks for that, too,” I finally muttered.

  He wagged his tail.

  The distant shouts rose to the point where I couldn’t ignore them anymore. I tried to see what was going on, but without the dragon’s eyes only caught glimpses of light. “What’s that? Oberon’s goons still after us?” I forced myself up. “You should’ve warned—”

  “No, Nick!” Claryce kept me from taking a step toward Her Lady’s gift. “Listen first! It’s the police! Detective Cortez has them rounding up what’s left of Oberon’s gangsters!”

  “Cortez?” My thoughts tried to gather. Cortez should’ve been dead or at least injured, a victim of the attack on the station. “He’s all right?”

  Before either of them could answer, the shouting died down. I tried to see what was happening.

  Let Eye help . . .

  I got over my surprise at the dragon’s sudden emergence as his emerald world ate away the darkness. I saw several squad cars and a paddy wagon surrounding the crooks’ autos. There were at least two bodies that I could see, both of them obviously from Oberon’s gang. I didn’t see or sense any of the Wyld and assumed that they’d either fled or been taken by Her Lady.

  Thinking of Her Lady again, I quickly retrieved the sword . . . and the card. I was surprised that Her Lady’d left the card. There was no mistaking that it was the real thing. I could feel its odd power even now. I stuffed the card into my pocket and put the blade back in its special hiding place.

  I also glanced toward the Gate. It was barely visible even to the dragon and growing more faded yet. Her Lady’d been able to reach more strongly into the mortal realm while Oberon’d had everything in flux, but now the Gate was all but sealed again . . . thankfully.

  The right thing shoul
d’ve been to wait and speak with Cortez. Instead, I took Claryce by the arm and started leading her away. “The Packard near?”

  She pointed ahead of us. “It’s up this way.”

  “Good.” I eyed Fetch and pointed at the spear. He was clever enough to immediately snap it up in his jaws like any dog would a stick and trot ahead of us.

  “Nick, shouldn’t we—”

  “No.” There were too many questions. I needed time to think. I also needed time to deal with the Clothos card . . . and while I was at it, Claryce.

  Claryce sat in the back row of the cathedral while I saw to the card. I was pleased to see that Kravayik was all right, if a bit bruised.

  “I have not had the occasion to fight since I left the Court,” he muttered, as we finished sealing the card inside again. The exile winced as he tried to bend his wrist. “I suppose I should attend to the body as well as the soul from here on . . . just in case. I was not much help, I am sorry to say.”

  “You’re fine. You didn’t want to hurt me.”

  “There is that, I suppose.” The exile peered at the card’s hiding place. “Will this be enough?”

  “It has to be. At the very least, he won’t be able to pretend he’s me to gain access again. It’ll recognize who exactly is wearing this flesh.” I stepped back. “As always, thank you, Kravayik.”

  He shook his head. “No, Master Nicholas. Thank you.” Kravayik bowed slightly. “I will lock up after you and the lady are gone. . . .”

  “Try to get some rest.”

  “You need it more than I, Saint George.” He turned and melted back into the shadows before I could reprimand him for using that name and title.

  Shrugging, I headed toward Claryce, only to have Diocles materialize next to me. “Is it true? Did you see him?”

  I kept walking in the hopes he’d get the hint. “St. Michael? I don’t know. I’ve seen and heard about a lot of Michaels. Don’t know if any of them were him or simply someone he used . . . if he even used them at all.”

  “It was no coincidence, Georgius. You and I are proof that such things can be.”

  “Maybe.” I couldn’t shake the feeling that if St. Michael did exist and was finding excuses to lend me a hand even when he wasn’t supposed to be, it was because something very, very bad was happening that went beyond Oberon.

  I would’ve liked to have questioned my fellow “saint”—questioned him about a lot of things, actually—but thus far I hadn’t seen any hint of any version of him. I still remembered the second black bird and how painful it’d looked when it’d been skewered. If that’d been St. Michael, he’d felt far more pain than Her Lady had. Maybe that’d been the price he’d had to pay for doing what he did for me. Maybe.

  I suspected that this wasn’t the end of this situation.

  “I’ve given some thought to the spear,” the late emperor commented, turning to what he likely thought a safer subject. “There is a place. You know it. The perfect place to bury it in hallowed ground, where it belongs . . .”

  He didn’t have to go farther. I knew where he meant. It was actually a good idea, but I kept quiet.

  Diocles sighed. “Just be careful, Georgius.”

  He faded away. I suppose I should’ve replied before he vanished completely, should’ve thanked him for his part in trying to stop the dragon . . . but I didn’t. The only thing I did was nod. He deserved better . . . but he didn’t get it.

  Claryce rose as I neared. As we headed out the door, she asked, “Now what?”

  I didn’t get a chance to answer, because a much-too-familiar auto chose that moment to pull up. An overly cheerful Cortez stepped out.

  “Nick Medea!” he greeted. “And Miss Claryce!”

  I glanced over at the Packard, where I caught a glimpse of Fetch crouching out of sight. Now that the Gate was sealed again and the moon was normal, he looked exactly like the mongrel hound Cortez’d seen before, but I was still happy that Fetch had chosen to hide himself. The less questions the detective had, the better.

  “Hello, Detective Cortez,” Claryce interjected when I said nothing. “How are you?”

  He offered both of us a Lucky. We declined. Shrugging, Cortez stuck one in the corner of his mouth, but didn’t light it. “Quite a night! I tell you, it didn’t start out too well, what with some goon we brought in turning arsonist on us! We’d have been in worse shape if some old shoe-shine guy hadn’t spotted it right after it started. Made a lot of smoke—a lot of smoke—for some reason, but that was it.”

  “What about the armor and the spear?” I asked, curious how that loss had played out with his superiors.

  Cortez frowned. “Don’t understand, Bo . . . you mean the Art Institute robbery? We’re still trying to find that loot, though I think it’s sitting pretty in some swell’s swanky estate, you know?”

  I could imagine Claryce’s surprise on hearing this, but to her credit, she kept quiet. Cortez’s mention of an “old shoe-shine guy” left me with no doubt as to who’d manipulated events—and memories—as best as he was permitted after Oberon’s men had circumvented Her Lady’s protections. My fellow saint’d been busy.

  As for Cortez, I just nodded, then replied, “You’re probably right. Lost forever, then. Sorry for you.”

  “Ah, that’s okay! Night got a lot better after the smoke! You should know something about that, Nick! Had a big haul tonight! Buncha Micks that appear to be working for a so-called honest bigwig you and me talked about.” He rubbed his chin. “Say, didn’t know you knew the captain I mentioned at the station, but it figures you did. Michael said you and he go way back.”

  “Michael . . .” I muttered. “Yeah, way back. Farther than I thought.”

  “Yeah, well, Michael—don’t remember his last name, but you know it already—he said he got this tip from you about these hoods meeting down here and that there’d be fireworks. Said I should get down here fast. He wanted to join us but said his chief was already on his case for crossing the line too often. Said you’d understand, you know?”

  I did. And didn’t. I’d been going to St. Michael’s Church for years, both to pray for and curse my existence. Apparently, I’d been heard. Also apparently, he who’d heard me wasn’t supposed to help me in any way, but’d done what he could. I appreciated that, even if I could’ve used a lot more help against Oberon.

  I made a note to make a special prayer at St. Michael’s the next time I was there . . . assuming he was still able to hear it.

  “So all went well, then,” I finally replied. Then, “And how’d you know to find me here?”

  “That? Just happy coincidence, you know? I saw you come out of the cathedral and decided to stop.” He pulled out the unlit cigarette. “As to why I’m here, we’re just givin’ Bugs and Hymie a little drive-by, just to keep them on their toes! Pretty sure they had some tie to this, even if we probably won’t be able to prove it.” Cortez tipped his hat at Claryce. “Speaking of which, you understand we’re speaking of Mr. William Delke, don’t you, Miss Claryce?”

  “Yes . . .”

  “Now, Nick and I, we know you’ve nothing to do with him, but if I could ask you to come to the station and make a statement, that’d be helpful.”

  Claryce nodded. “Of course. First thing in the morning all right?”

  “That’d be nifty.”

  “Maybe you’d better take her with you now, Cortez,” I suddenly interjected. “I wouldn’t wait too long to get all the info you can about Delke Industries. Someone’s bound to be trying to burn papers soon.”

  “There is that,” Cortez agreed, though he didn’t look happy. He no doubt wanted to get back to his Maria and the kids, but I’d brought up a point he couldn’t ignore. “Miss? Can you come now?”

  Claryce wasn’t any happier than the detective. “Nick, couldn’t I—”

  I stared deep into her eyes. “It’d be best if you went now.”

  She frowned. Without looking at Cortez, she asked, “Can I have a moment, detective?”
<
br />   “Sure thing.” He nodded at both of us, then trotted back down to his auto, where he toyed with his cigarette.

  “What’s this about, Nick?” Claryce whispered. “Why do I need to go with him right now?”

  I decided to be blunt. “It’s time to end this. I gave it plenty of thought, Claryce. I don’t want to do this, but I need to do it. You’re safest far away from me. You need to finish up with the police about Delke Industries and then leave Chicago. Go somewhere on one of the coasts. It’s your best hope—”

  Her gaze burned with a fury worthy of the dragon. She fought to keep her voice down. “You can’t be serious about this! After what we’ve been through! I can’t leave you—”

  “You have to! I don’t want you to die . . .”

  “Remember that William—Oberon—found me first. I didn’t even know who you were. To me, that says I’m safer with you than away from you.”

  I’d been afraid she wouldn’t agree. I turned to the one other I thought might give me support. You know what I need. Help me . . .

  Eye will not. It is her choice whether she lives or dies, you know that. Eye will miss her strong will, either way . . .

  He ended with a low, mocking chuckle, but I had no time to argue with him. Claryce was already stepping back.

  “I’m ready to come with you now, Detective Cortez,” she called out. To me, she added, “And I’ll see you when I’m done . . .”

  Cortez held the door open for her. She thanked him, then entered. The good detective grinned at me and went around to the driver’s side.

  I watched them drive off, considering one chance I hadn’t thought of before. Claryce’d been a client; therefore, now that the case was over, she was prey to the shunning spell. Even if I’d wanted her to remember, there was a good chance she’d still forget.

  I waited for the dragon to contradict me. I waited for him to tell me that Claryce was immune, that she’d remember everything.

  But he said nothing.

  I had one final act to take care of that night. I had to wait until later, when no one would possibly be around. There was some risk to what I needed to do because it took me very near Cortez’s home. I didn’t know how long he’d need to keep Claryce at the station but hopefully long enough for me to finish my task here.