The Nekropolis Archives (108 page)

  The Grotesquerie's alarms had continued to sound the entire time we were trying to escape, but now their tones rose in pitch and intensity.

  "The force field fails entirely," Varney finished.

  No more time for talk. We ran out into the street where Lazlo was still waiting for us in his cab. We were about to jump in when there was a
pop!
of displaced air and suddenly Varvara was standing on the sidewalk next to us. The Demon Queen gave me an irritated look.

  "This is quite a bit of trouble – even for you," she said.

  We could hear the sounds of giant monsters roaring and shrieking as they lumbered toward the main gate. I pictured creatures throughout the Grotesquerie preparing to climb over or batter through the wall as soon as the force field finished collapsing.

  "I tried calling," I said lamely, "but I couldn't get a signal."

  "Good thing I don't have to rely on you for my intel," she said. She pointed skyward and I saw a half-dozen flying demons overhead. No doubt they'd spotted the trouble in the Grotesquerie and had reported it to their queen.

  "Now if you don't mind," Varvara said, "Mommy's got some work to do."

  She stepped closer to the main gate, planted her feet apart as if to steady herself, and raised her hands high. She began chanting in a language I'd never heard before. The words were rough and guttural, and they blistered the air with unholy power. Just hearing them felt like my spirit was being violated. Filaments of glowing green energy streamed forth from Varvara's fingers, lengthening and picking up speed as they went. They flowed over the walls, completely covering them, and continued upward, rising into the air and curving inward from all directions until they formed a green dome over the Grotesquerie. The process took several minutes, and Varvara had a grim look of determination on her face the entire time. But when she was finished, the entire Grotesquerie was sealed in a dome of mystic power. We could still hear monsters roaring inside and more than a few began pounding at the newly erected barrier, but their cries were muted now, their blows muffled.

  Varvara stopped chanting and lowered her arms. She staggered backward, and I was so shocked to see a sign of weakness in her that for an instant I hesitated. Then I stepped forward and took hold of her elbow to steady her.

  "Thanks," she whispered. "That took a bit more out of me than I expected. But it should do the trick until the keepers can repair the force-field generators."

  I was about to ask her who was going to help the keepers – those who were still alive, that is – subdue the giant monsters running wild within the Grotesquerie. But just then a long red truck came roaring around the corner, sirens wailing and flames trailing behind it.

  "Right on time," Varvara said.

   The vehicle pulled up to the curb not far from Lazlo's cab, which growled beneath its hood and rolled back several feet to give it room. Considering that the entire truck was wreathed in flame, I didn't blame the cab one bit. Emblazoned on the side of the truck was a stylized SFD: Sprawl Fire Department. They aren't firefighters, though; they're fire
bringers
. The doors opened and a horde of fire demons armed with pitchforks poured out into the street.

  Varvara pointed to the Grotesquerie's entrance. "Get in there and help the keepers put the monsters back in their enclosures. And try not to burn them too badly. They're one of our best tourist attractions."

  The demons inclined their heads to acknowledge their queen's command, and then formed two ranks and began running toward the Grotesquerie's entrance, leaving a trail of black and smoldering footprints behind them as they went.

  "How can they get inside?" I asked. "You just sealed the place off."

  "Give me a little credit. The barrier is impassable to everything
but
demons," Varvara said. She waited until the fire demons were all inside and then said, "There. That should take care of that. Now, if you don't mind, I have a war to win." She made a mystic gesture then, but nothing happened. She scowled and tried again, with the same result. Finally, she furrowed her brow in concentration, made the gesture more slowly, and this time she vanished with a
whoosh
of inrushing air.

  "She wasn't kidding when she said creating the dome took a lot out of her," Devona said. "I've never seen a Darklord have trouble performing a simple teleportation spell before."

  I was just as surprised as Devona by what we'd just witnessed, and more than a little disturbed, but we didn't have time to consider the implications right then. We needed to get Tavi medical attention, and we needed to do it fast. We hopped in Lazlo's cab, and he hit the gas and roared away from the curb.

  As he drove, something hit me.

  "Hey, Lazlo, why didn't you get out of your cab and kneel before Varvara? I mean, she is the queen of all the Demonkin, and that includes you."

  Lazlo let out a raucous honk of a laugh. "You're funny, Matt! Why would I kneel to my own sister?"

THIRTEEN

During all the excitement in the Grotesquerie, I'd forgotten about the destruction of the Bridge of Nine Sorrows. With the bridge out, we couldn't get from the Sprawl to Gothtown, and that meant we couldn't get to the Fever House. Klamm had said that crews had been dispatched to repair the bridges, but Lazlo said both of them were still a long way from being rebuilt. I considered having Lazlo drive us to the broken bridge and then asking Varney to assume his travel form and fly Tavi over to Gothtown, but the vampire still looked pretty wiped out, and the last thing I wanted was for him to get halfway across and be unable to hold on to his travel form. If that happened, he'd resume his humanoid shape and plunge into Phlegethon, taking Tavi down with him. And to be honest, though Varney had helped us out of a couple tight spots, I didn't entirely trust him.

  If Papa Chatha had been home, I'd have had Lazlo take us there, but of course, Papa was missing. Instead, I told Lazlo to take us to the Midnight Watch, and then I called Bogdan on my vox and told the warlock to meet us there.

  When we arrived, I couldn't resist asking Lazlo if he'd been serious when he'd said Varvara was his sister. All he did was laugh, and give me a parting wave as he drove off.

  Bogdan had beaten us back and was waiting inside for us. The Midnight Watch building is fairly large, and though all of the employees have their own homes, they each have a room there as well. We went into Tavi's quarters, which, aside from a couple paintings depicting jungle scenes, was decorated as sparsely as any hotel room. Devona pulled back the covers of his bed, and I removed him from my pocket and laid him gently on the mattress. Varney and Shamika stood off to the side, watching.

  Bogdan took one look at our miniature friend and then turned to me. "I take it there's a story behind his condition," the warlock said.

  "He got bit in half by a dinosaur and I shrank him to make him easier to carry," I said.

  "Of course you did." Bogdan looked at Tavi once more. "How did you shrink him? Wait – you used that shrunken head of yours, right?"

  "Yeah, but Livingstone didn't make it, so I can't use him to unshrink Tavi."

  "So not only do you want me to try to heal Tavi, you need me to restore him to his normal size as well," Bogdan said.

  "Not to make a joke, but that's about the size of it," I said.

  Devona gave me a look that let me know I wasn't funny.

  "Like anyone else, we Arcane have our individual talents and strengths," Bogdan said. "We're all born with the ability to generate, focus, and channel magical energy, but the specific form that magic takes can vary quite a bit from person to person. My own specialty is the conjuring of objects, not making alterations in another's body. Changing someone's size and healing injuries are both outside my realm of expertise."

  "Tavi's a lyke, and his body stands a good chance of healing itself," Devona said. "We just need to give him a little help."

  Bogdan smiled at Devona. "All right, boss. I'll give it my best shot."

  I didn't particularly appreciate the way Bogdan smiled at Devona, but I decided now wasn't the time to act petty. There'd be plenty of time for that after Bogdan did what he could to help Tavi.

  Bogdan's specialty wasn't just conjuring objects. In a way I didn't understand, his talent lies in conjuring
useful
objects, ones he needs at any given moment. Sometimes I wonder if Bogdan himself fully understands it. He kept his gaze fixed on Tavi's miniaturized form, gestured, and a magnifying glass appeared in his hand. He held it over Tavi and a beam of light shone through and down onto the lyke. As we watched, Tavi's body slowly grew until he was once again normal size. When Tavi was finished growing, the light from the magnifying glass winked out, and a second later the glass itself disappeared. It's too bad that Bogdan's objects never stick around long once they've fulfilled their purpose. He'd make a fortune if he could conjure up permanent magical items.

  "That's step one," Bogdan said. "Now let's see if I can do anything to help him start healing."

  I was used to the warlock sounding supremely confident, so the doubt in his voice took me by surprise. I felt Devona reach out to me through our psychic link.

  Why are you surprised
? she thought.
Tavi is Bogdan's friend, and he doesn't want to let him down.

  Nothing against Bogdan, but I didn't think he was especially fond of any of us – with the exception of you, that is.

  Jealous: table for one,
Devona thought, with more than a trace of amusement
. But seriously, you should take the time to get to know Bogdan better – and Scorch and Tavi too.

  This wasn't the first time that Devona had gently chided me for keeping to myself too much. I'd been something of a loner when I was human. Dale had been my only real friend back then, and after we came to Nekropolis and he died, I'd been on my own for the most part. Oh, I'd made a number of acquaintances, but I never got close to anyone. I didn't let myself. That changed when I met Devona. She's more than my lover; she's the best friend I've ever had. But she encourages me to "expand my emotional palette," as she puts it, and establish deeper friendships. I'm working on it. Slowly.

  Once more Bogdan fixed his gaze on Tavi, concentrated, and gestured. This time nothing appeared in his hand, and he frowned. He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and allowed his features to relax. When his expression was one of serene calm, he gestured once again, and this time an old-fashioned glass thermometer appeared in his hand.

  He opened his eyes and looked at it.

  "Please tell me it's not a rectal thermometer," I said. "Because if it is, I'm afraid Tavi's out of luck."

  Devona gave me a look that said I was even less funny than the last time she had given me the look. Bogdan ignored me and gently placed the thermometer between Tavi's lips. There were no obvious signs of any magic at work – no glowing light, no strange sound – but the lyke stirred and gently sighed. He settled back into the bed, and a peaceful expression came over his face.

  "I'd say that's a good sign," Devona said.

  "I hope so," Bogdan said. "Like I told you, healing's not my specialty."

  "Once Tavi regains consciousness, he's going to be ravenous," I said. "He lost a lot of mass, and he's going to need help replacing it."

  "You're right," Devona said. "We should lay in a supply of raw meat and blood."

  That wouldn't be a problem. One of the nice things about Nekropolis is that you never have any trouble finding a butcher's.

  A slight breeze ruffled my hair, and I knew Rover was in the room with us.

  "Keep watch over Tavi," I told the guardian spirit. "And let us know if there's any change in his condition."

  Rover blew gently on my face one time, a signal for yes. We left Tavi's quarters and adjourned to the great room. Devona, Shamika, and Bogdan sat on the couch, I took up my usual position near the fireplace, and Varney stood on the opposite side of the room and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. He'd been awfully quiet since we'd escaped the Grotesquerie, but at least he was no longer making any pretense of wanting to make a documentary about me. I still didn't know what his game was, and that needed to change. First things first, though. I told Bogdan what we'd been up to since we'd seen him last. When I was finished catching him up, I asked if he'd learned anything of interest from his Arcane contacts.

  "I stopped by
Overhexed
, only to discover that you'd been there before me and broken up a street riot before it even got started," Bogdan said. "As you might imagine, not many of the patrons were inclined to chat with me after that, seeing as how I work with you. The Sea Hag was sharing a table with Dr Bombay, and they'd both had more enough than enough drinks to put them in a talkative mood, though. They told me they'd heard rumors that Talaith had solid evidence that Varvara was behind our people's disappearances, though neither could tell me what precisely that evidence might be. Dr Bombay is something of a gossip, and once he started talking, it was hard to shut him up. He told me the names of the Arcane who disappeared. A dozen in all, men and women who specialize in different facets of magic." Bogdan grimaced in distaste. "He also told me more about their vices and sexual proclivities than I wanted to know. Beyond the fact that they all happen to be Arcane, there doesn't seem to be any connection between them."

  "Do you remember the names?" I asked.

  Bogdan gave me an affronted look that seemed half put on, half genuine. "I'm a professional. I know better to rely on memory." He gestured and a leather-bound notebook appeared in his hand. He opened it and read off the names of the missing Arcane.

  Papa Chatha was on the list, and while I wasn't familiar with every name, I knew most of them: the Bedazzler, Preston Digitator, Ms Mockery, the Uncanny Gaston, Alteria, Chang-Xi, and the Crystalline Dancer.