The Brothers Cabal (31 page)

Cabal looked at him, mildly curious. ‘Well what, pray?'

‘Will you help us?'

Cabal frowned at such a stupid question. ‘Of course I'll help you.'

‘There's no “of course” about it, Johannes. Just because a great occult evil is rising on the Continent, just because the lives of millions are threatened with a dictatorship of the dead, just because your brother asks you nicely, none of these are enough for an “of course” from you. I know you too well. So … why?'

‘You need to ask?'

Horst nodded. ‘I do.'

‘First and foremost, Rufus Maleficarus. I don't think you realise what a great threat he is.'

‘You told me he was an idiot in big trousers.'

‘He is a
powerful
idiot in big trousers, although the trousers represent only a small part of the threat. This is a man who used the Ereshkigal Working in an ill-considered revenge plot.'

‘The what?'

Cabal grunted with irritation. ‘Your ignorance appalls me.'

‘Almost everything about me has appalled you sometime or another.'

‘True. In fairness, there's no good reason why you should know of the Working. Briefly, it is a ritual that allows an animatory power into our world. Its subjects of choice are freshly dead humans. These rise and kill more, which rise and so on and so forth.'

‘Is that what Lady Misericorde used?'

‘Emphatically not. The Ereshkigal Working is a trap. The ritualist who summons this power has control over it, but that control fails permanently when they fail to exert it. By falling asleep, for example. The animating power then does whatever it likes, such as killing the ritualist and then carrying on as it sees fit.'

‘More killing and raising undead?'

‘Exactly so. The Ereshkigal Working is a cancer in which the corrupted cells are walking dead. Left to its own devices, it will continue to spread indefinitely. It has been used twice in antiquity, and was fought to a halt on both occasions, although at great cost. It has been used once in modernity, by a loud idiot in big trousers who couldn't be bothered reading the relevant texts to see how badly things worked out the last times it was used.'

‘How did it fail this last time?'

‘Oh.' Cabal sniffed dismissively. ‘I was there. I dealt with it.'

‘You were there?' Horst looked at him askance. ‘That was quite a coincidence.'

‘No coincidence at all. I was the subject of the half-baked revenge attempt whereby Maleficarus performed the ritual. Murder by apocalypse.' Cabal stretched and rested his hands behind his head. ‘Oh, Horst, he is such a
Schei
ß
kopf
, you wouldn't believe.'

‘You haven't mentioned exactly why he wanted revenge on you in the first place. Professional jealousy?'

‘Oh, he'd got the idea I'd killed his father from somewhere.'

‘And … had you?'

‘No. I destroyed his father, but he was already dead at the time.'

Horst raised his eyebrows, which he felt showed impressive self-control under the circumstances. ‘You destroyed his father's corpse?'

‘Yes,' said Cabal emphatically. ‘The idiot had already killed himself, so there was no point in his son becoming so very upset over it.'

Horst shook his head. ‘I feel I'm missing some important factor here. If Maleficarus Senior was already dead, why did you destroy his body?'

‘Because he was trying to kill me at the time,' said Cabal, surprised at having to explain such an obvious thing.

‘His son was trying to kill you, so you destroyed the father's body?'

Cabal looked at him as if realising his brother was actually a complete nincompoop. ‘No,' he said. ‘This was long before I even knew there
was
a son. The father tried to kill me.'

‘Before he killed himself?'

‘
After
he killed himself. Really, Horst, this isn't complicated.'

Horst grimaced. ‘I would accuse you of having an unnecessarily convoluted lifestyle, but then I remember that I'm a vampire on the run from a huge supernatural conspiracy. Very well; so this all boils down to Rufus Maleficarus would be dangerous enough with a box of matches, never mind the keys of life and death? Is that it?'

‘You have it. Conspiracy or not, Maleficarus is too dangerous to have running around, summoning monsters and wearing bad tweed. For that alone, I would join you.'

‘“For that alone”?' Horst looked seriously at Cabal. ‘You have other motivations?'

‘They are legion. They somehow raised Maleficarus as a functional human being. Well, at least as functional as he was before I shot him. That is very interesting, and I intend to discover how they did it.'

‘They raised me, too. Somehow,' said Horst.

Cabal looked at him and frowned. ‘Yes. About that. I honestly had no idea that it was a possibility, Horst. You know that, don't you? I would have tried if I had but known.'

‘I didn't die in an accident. Not the second time.' Horst's tone was cold. ‘I wouldn't have thanked you.'

‘No,' admitted Cabal. ‘No, I doubt you would have.' He coughed, embarrassed. ‘Although that is another major reason that I am offering my help. If the Dee Society had asked me, I would probably have agreed, despite my recent experiences of working with secret organisations. But I would have considered it at greater length than, in reality, I have, and would likely have asked for much in return. I am familiar with the Dee Society, Horst. Their archives are a tar pit for certain books and artefacts. Once the Dee people have their hands on something, it might as well have been destroyed for all the good it will do for certain enterprising individuals.' He saw how his brother was looking at him. ‘Yes. Like myself.'

‘You'd have made them pay for your help in possibly saving the Earth?'

‘Don't overstate affairs.'

‘The Ereshkigal Working, Johannes. Rufus Maleficarus still knows it, even if he may have learned not to use it.'

Cabal nodded. ‘That is fair. But I would still have sought some advantage.'

Horst suddenly sat upright. ‘My God. Johannes, are you saying that you're accepting this task because
I
asked you?'

Cabal did not reply. Instead he found a loose thread on the eiderdown and fiddled distractedly with it. Horst sat on the side of the bed, embraced his brother around the shoulders with one arm, and rubbed the top of his head with the knuckles of the other.

‘Horst!' snapped Cabal. ‘I am no longer eight years old!'

Horst kissed him on the top of the head. ‘You'll always be my little brother, Johannes, even if you look older than me now.'

‘Ah, yes. Only you could find the redeeming virtue of vampirism to be savings in male toiletries.'

Horst rose and looked at Cabal expectantly. ‘You're with us, then?'

‘I'm with
you
. The rest of the miscreants and ne'er-do-wells you have in your train are pure corollary.'

‘Good enough.' Horst grinned. ‘Well, look at us. The necromancer and the vampire against the forces of elemental evil. The Brothers Cabal ride again!'

‘Yeehaw,' said Cabal evenly.

 

Chapter 13

IN WHICH THE BROTHERS CABAL RIDE AGAIN

‘What are the transport arrangements?' demanded Johannes Cabal, a necromancer, of his brother, Horst, a vampire.

‘What makes you think anything has been arranged?'

Cabal wrinkled his nose irritably. ‘While I have never entirely seen eye to eye with the Dee Society, and while on the rare occasions our paths have crossed there has been some acrimony, harsh words, and a little shooting, I still respect their pedigree and their efficiency. By your own admission, you consulted with this Professor Stone and Fräulein Bartos before heading for England.' He paused. ‘How exactly
did
you find me? You had little enough time to stop and ask
en route
.'

Horst was many things—dead, for example—but there were times when his natural glibness deserted him in the face of a direct question and traipsed out of the door, taking his ability to dissemble with it. This being one such occasion, he could only smile weakly.

‘Ah,' said his brother, looking at him steadily. ‘I sense the Dee Society at work again. They know where I live?'

‘They had a very good idea. I'm sorry, Johannes; they have very nearly chapter and verse on you. The professor is something of an expert on the subject of Herr Cabal the Necromancer. Once he got talking about you, it was hard to shut him up. I think you impress him.'

‘Yet they have never seen fit to visit. Perhaps for tea. More likely to kill me and burn the house down. Why would that be?'

‘This isn't going to sound flattering, but let me finish before you lose your temper, yes?' Cabal's eyes merely narrowed, which didn't bode well. ‘It's because you're not considered a threat.' He saw his brother's eyebrow loft and pressed on rapidly to forestall the storm. ‘They
used
to. You're right, Johannes. They were going to get around to dealing with you and your researches at one point. Yes, when I say “dealing with”, I mean killing you and burning this house down. Then they realised that you weren't the kind of necromancer they were used to “dealing with”. More so since after I … after I took my sabbatical from reality.' He coughed, embarrassed. ‘The professor tells me that you, well … that you saved the world.'

Cabal shrugged. ‘Probably. I do a lot of things.'

Horst gave him a hard look. ‘I mean,
saved the world
. You. You did.'

‘Yes,' said Cabal innocently. ‘I know. I heard you.' He looked at his brother, very faintly inquisitive. ‘Which particular time was that?'

‘Don't test me.'

‘I'm not. I've saved the world on two occasions of which I am aware. You remember our little chat about the Ereshkigal Working? Well, that was once, although it was some time ago, and whatever I have done to unblot my copybook with the Dee Society is apparently more recent than that. A clue, please?'

Horst did not trust himself to say anything for a long moment. Then he said, ‘Some sort of super wizard.'

‘Well, it's very kind of them to say so, of course, but … Oh, you mean that was the occasion? Then that must be Umtak Ktharl, yes?'

Horst snapped his fingers. ‘That was the name. Couldn't remember it. You mean it's true?'

‘Well, of course it's true. It was very bad luck finding him in the first place, of course, but yes, I extemporised a little and brought things to a satisfactory conclusion. It was also necessary to brutalise an archbishop, thereby combining business with pleasure. Yes, at the risk of apparent conceit, that was a good day's work.'

‘Since when have you cared about appearing conceited?'

The question took Cabal by the lee, and he was unable to answer immediately. ‘I don't care. It's just a turn of phrase.'

Horst looked at the clock on the chest of drawers. ‘To return to your original question, dawn is three hours away. In an hour or so, Miss Virginia Montgomery will be arriving in her entomopter. It will be the third time she's crossed Europe by air in the space of a week, and she will then embark on the fourth immediately. You will be in the co-pilot's seat, and I shall be wrapped in tarpaulin in the cargo space, because being a vampire is so glamorous. So…' He waved a hand around the room. ‘You'd better get cracking.'

‘“Cracking”, he says. “Cracking”,' muttered Cabal. ‘Might I remind you that I am not at the peak of my physical powers at present. I shall have a bath and a shave, both less leisurely than I would have liked, and then put together some accoutrements that may prove useful. I would be obliged if you could pack a bag of the more mundane necessities for me.'

Horst folded his arms. ‘I'm not your valet, Johannes.'

‘No sensible person would tolerate you as a valet. I am merely asking you to help expedite matters.' He waved a finger at the wardrobe. ‘Oooh, clothes. How exciting. You love clothes, Horst. Think how much fun you'll have sorting out some outfits for me.'

Horst did not unfold his arms and skip joyfully off to the wardrobe. Instead he cocked his head to one side. ‘All your suits, cravats, socks, and shoes are black. All your shirts and underwear are white.' He looked at the rug by the bed. ‘And your slippers are red tartan. You don't have outfits, Johannes. You have a uniform.' He shook his head and went to the wardrobe anyway. ‘Very well. Where's the suitcase?'

‘Under the stairs, as was it ever. Ah, before you start on that, bottom drawer of the chest of drawers, please.'

Horst opened it. ‘Socks,' he said, underwhelmed.

‘Behind the socks, at the back of the drawer.'

Horst pulled the drawer most of the way out and paused. ‘Oh. Of course. I forgot the other necessary part of your dress. Johannes, there are two guns here, both in their original packing.'