There was a loud cracking sound as Garnoff’s body struck the charged third rail of the subway track. The body convulsed and stiffened as thousands of volts of electricity poured into it and the flames surrounding it flared, sending a massive pillar of fire roaring to the ceiling and filling the tunnel with the acrid smell of charring flesh. A loud scream was ripped from Garnoff’s throat. Whether it was him or Gallow, or both, who made it, I couldn’t say. I lay panting on the concrete and threw up an arm to shield my face from the terrible heat.
Finally the charred and blackened body lay still, blue sparks snapping and crackling occasionally around the smoldering form. The ring of fire on the platform flickered and died, leaving only blackened marks where it once was. I looked at the body with my astral sight and saw no living light, no aura whatsoever. It was truly dead.
Gallow was gone.
The alley was quiet and still at nightfall, broken only by the occasional distant sound of traffic or the wail of a siren. The broken and blasted remains of the Asphalt Rats and their machines were undisturbed except for the natural erosion of time and the ravages of scavengers. Only the four-legged kind. The locals called the place “Fire Alley” and said that it was haunted, so no squatter or gang was willing to claim it for their own. They gave it a wide berth.
I stood near the end of the alley and drew my fingers across one blackened brick wall, I used the soot to draw black lines under my eyes and chin, and across my forehead, then I raised my hands and bowed my head.
“Restless ones.” I intoned, “spirits that dwell here, I call to thee. Samhain is fading fast. The door between the worlds is closing. I ask you to appear to me here on this morning, so you may find the rest you deserve.”
As I called, they came, appearing out of the walls and the alley and the bleached bones and twisted metal. They were faint, even to my astral sight, translucent images of the bodies they wore in life, dressed in the colors of the Asphalt Rats. Their eyes were dark and hollow, sad to behold. I didn’t have to tell them who I was. They knew. They drew closer and I stood my ground. I wasn’t afraid.
“Please.” I said to the assembled spirits, “forgive me.”
They looked at me with their lifeless eyes for what seemed like a very long time. They seemed to be waiting for something else. I looked at each of them carefully, noticing their faces and features like I never had when they were alive. Each was a unique individual, each with lives and feelings of their own once. Like me. Like Jase. Tears stung my eyes and began running down my face.
“I forgive you.” I said. One by one, the ghosts began to file past me out of the alley. As they passed, I felt the brush of a hand, a kiss, or a phantom embrace, one last touch of life before they left. The last to go paused and looked into my eyes. His features seemed familiar to me and I realized where I’d seen them before. On the body hanging in the depths of the underground.
Thank you,
the spirit said silently. I nodded and he went past me, out into the street and into the world beyond.
I lowered my hands. The alley was silent and peaceful. Those ghosts had been laid to rest. The violence done here had been so pointless, two pawns struggling with each other on the edges of the board, unaware of the actions of the real players. Dawn was just beginning to creep up over the cityscape and its pale light stretched into the shadows. Frag, I was tired.
“Talon?” a voice said. I turned to see Trouble standing near the mouth of the alley. She was wearing a short leather jacket and under it a jumpsuit that clung to her curves like a second skin. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. I gave a wan smile to show I appreciated the fashion statement, if nothing else.
We talked after we got out of the alley. When I explained things to her, Trouble just laughed and said, “Why is it all the good ones are either married or gay?
“I’m sorry.” she continued. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She started to turn away.
“No, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m done.” I said.
“Boom said you’d be here.”
I made a mental note to someday find out how Boom managed to keep tabs on everyone so well.
“I had some unfinished business to take care of.” I said.
Trouble didn’t comment. She only took a handkerchief from her jacket pocket and offered it to me. I took it and started to wipe the soot and tears from my face.
“You okay.” she said, looking at me with concern written on her face.
“Yeah.” I said. “I think I am. How’s everyone else doing?”
“Hammer is going to be okay. Your healing spell saved his life. Isogi is back in business with the yakuza. I don’t think the oyabun is too pleased with him, but he made up for a lot of it by helping us stop Gallow and bringing all the information about what Garnoff was up to back to the Hiramatsu-
gumi
. I think the yaks will be careful about expanding operations in Boston for a little while at least, which makes Don O’Rilley quite happy.”
“That’s good.” I said. It was always nice to have the local Mafia don pleased with your work.
“I can’t believe it’s over.” she said, looking around the ruined alleyway.
“Why? Wasn’t that enough excitement for you?”
She smiled and laughed. “I’m just glad we were able to pull it off. In the underground I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to keep up the act.”
“You did great.” I said. “You even had Garnoff convinced his spell was still working after I disarmed it.”
Trouble shuddered a bit and pulled her jacket closer in the evening chill, hugging herself with her crossed arms. “Garnoff. That poor fragger. Knight Errant already recovered the body, you know. All burned like that. They have no idea what really happened to him.”
“He was as good as dead anyway.” I said. “Gallow isn’t the kind of spirit who’s likely to share a body with someone. Hopefully, Garnoff was beyond pain by the time his body finally died.”
“Mitsuhama is claiming that Garnoff was involved in illegal chips.” she said. “The press releases are already starting to go out over the newsnets. Knight Errant is blaming the serial killings on him, saying he was unbalanced, crazy, which is true, but there’s nothing about Gallow in any of it. Seems the corp is not too happy. Their PR people must be working overtime. Manadyne canceled their partnership agreement with MCT and they’re looking for a new partner. I hear Novatech is already planning to move in on it.”
“That’s how it works.” I said. “One corp take a fall, and another one moves in to take its place.”
“So, when are you going back to DeeCee?” she asked. “Hammer wants to get everyone together to raise a glass in memory of Sloane.”
“I’m not going.” I said.
“What. . .?” Trouble began.
“I mean I’m not going back to DeeCee. I’m staying here.”
“What do you mean? Garnoff’s dead, Gallow’s dead, there’s no more danger.”
I shook my head. “Gallow’s not dead.”
“What do you mean? They pulled his body . . .”
‘'Garnoff's
body.” I said. “Gallow was just a passenger along for the ride. I told you, mundane weapons can’t really kill a spirit, especially not one as powerful as Gallow. Not even a few thousand volts of direct current. Only magic can kill a spirit permanently. The death of his host-body drove Gallow away from the physical world for a while, but he’ll be able to come back, maybe soon.”
“Oh, gods . . .” Trouble said. “But you know his name, right? Can't you use that to destroy him?”
“I don’t know.” I said. “When I broke off my first attempt to banish it, I lost most of the power Gallow’s true name gave me. I can’t try to banish it any longer and I sure as hell can’t try to summon or control it. I may be able to kill it, but the trick is going to be finding it again.”
“Well, with all of the resources Assets has . . .” Trouble began.
I shook my head. “Like I said, I’m not going back to DeeCee. I’ve decided to stay here.”
“Because of Gallow?”
“Partly.” I said. “Sooner or later, Gallow is going to be back. It’s my responsibility. I have to find some way to keep it from hurting any more people. There’s already been enough death over all this.”
I glanced back into the blackened, silent alleyway. “I also made a promise to Dr. Gordon to continue his studies of the metaplanes. After my first run with Assets I thought we’d taken care of any dangers that could come from there, that the Dragon Heart would keep the world safe from anything like that. This has made me realize that the creatures we encountered during the Dragon Heart run are only a fraction of what’s out there. The metaplanes are vast, maybe endless, and there’s more there than we can imagine. The Awakening isn’t over yet. In some ways it’s only begun. We need to understand what’s out there and we need to be ready for it. I think I’ve got some experience in that department.”
“So, are you getting a research grant and a lab somewhere?” Trouble asked with a smile.
“Who, me? I don’t think so. I like being in on the action too much. Jase taught me that life doesn’t happen in school or in a lab. It happens right here, out on the streets where people live life. I didn’t realize until I came back just how much I missed Boston, and these days the sprawl can certainly use some good shadowrunners. Boom’s one of the best fixers and face-men on the East Coast, and I know a really wiz decker. That is, if you’re interested.”
“We do make a great team.” Trouble said, smiling again.
“The best.” I said.
“I don’t know if Hammer will forgive you, though, stealing his team’s best decker.”
“I think I can work it out with him.” I said. “In fact, I could definitely use someone with his kind of experience, if he’s willing.”
“I think he just might be.” Trouble said. “What about Assets?”
“At this point they’re used to losing mages.” I joked, “and I rather like the idea of being the first magician to walk away from Assets, Inc. alive and in one piece. It’s something I have to do. I still need to talk to them, but I think they’ll understand. In fact, I know they will.” That was just the kind of guy Ryan was.
“C’mon, let’s go and raise a glass to Sloane, then we can talk about this new team. If I know Boom, he’s already got some potential recruits and jobs lined up and waiting.”
Together, we walked away from my past and into the future. When I’d left Boston, I was leaving my home behind. Now I had my home back again. I thought I’d severed my ties with the Hub back then, but life’s connections are too complex to be broken so simply. They’re the ties that bind us to our past and our selves, that make us who we are. I passed the crossroads and began walking down the path I’d chosen.
Gallow appeared in the Citadel of the City of Gold and Brass with a burst of rage and pain.
Damn that accursed mage to an eternity of torment!
He’d underestimated how much Talon’s magic had grown, how much he had changed, during his time of imprisonment. Talon had become wiser, more clever, but his “father” was a fool if he thought killing that flesh-puppet Garnoff would keep Gallow from the physical world. He was still free of the binding, and the time it would take to return to the mundane world would be little more than an eyeblink compared to the long years he’d waited to be free of his imprisonment.
Gallow paced the chamber of the citadel, which contained only a mirror, covered by a pale cloth. There was a flutter of wings and the black bird settled on the top of the mirror, looking at Gallow with glittering, dark eyes. It was a spirit the fire elemental had never seen before. It silently watched him, and he thought of how he would gain his revenge, against Talon, against all of them.
He brushed aside a thread of astral energy that hung like a cobweb from the ceiling as he plotted. It would have to be long and painful, so as to be properly savored, yes, a true masterpiece, not like the work of the clumsy fool Garnoff. Perhaps Talon would make a more suitable host than Garnoff, provided the proper. . . arrangements could be made. Yes . . . that would be ideal. Gallow would enjoy forcing Talon to destroy his newfound friends and make him understand what it felt like to be outcast, alone, always alone.
Another astral thread draped across the spirit’s path. He angrily pushed at it and three more of them dropped down. Then three more, then more, and more, until the mass of threads began to grow into an enmeshing web. The more Gallow thrashed and struggled, the more entangled he became in them. Thin as gossamer, the threads held as strong as steel. Gallow turned toward the raven sitting atop the mirror, where it watched his struggles impassively. What was happening? Who could be ...?
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Poor dear thing, beaten by a mere human in single combat. What is the world coming to?” The mocking voice came from an astral form nearby. Gallow had not sensed it before she simply appeared within the Citadel; an ancient crone clad in black. She smiled and bared her sharpened teeth, her aura dark as the deepest night, filled with a triumphant malice.
“Still, you’ll make a useful enough servant, I suppose, once I’ve taught you some obedience.”
The spirit shook with rage, but recoiled into whimpering as a burst of agony surged through the bindings holding him fast. How could this be? It was impossible . . .
“I have plans for you, my little Talon’s Hate.” she said, using Gallow’s true name. “It was so nice of Talon to come back home, where he’s so needed. Such a good boy, and such an opportunity for me. Come now, my pet, and we’ll begin your lessons.”