Into the Shadows (18 page)

I shrugged. "I don't know about it being
helpful, sir, but it's good to know. Uh, one last thing, if you
don't mind. When you say relatively advanced years, how many are
you talking about?"

Viggo stood and straightened his long coat.
"Most of those who can claim the term 'daemon' are usually a
respectable two hundred to five hundred years old, sometimes more.
Some older ones care little for other titles, so they continue
referring to themselves as that. Now, unless you have any truly
important questions, we need to go visit your pseudo-mistress. Come
with me."

"You mean the dog-woman?" I asked as I
followed him into my dark kitchen.

"Her name is Ragna, but she takes no offense
to that canine title." Viggo stopped and held out an arm out wide.
"You once inquired about my uncanny mode of travel. It is time I
answered your question. Step closer, Leo. I will show you."

I was suddenly afraid. Look, only a fool
would say he fears nothing. I'm not the brightest star in the sky,
but I'm no fool. I've had more than my share of scary moments and
scenarios, and I've faced them. But, standing there in the dark
with the looming silhouette of an ancient being who was about to
share something so eerily supernatural with me . . . Shit, I was
terrified. I trusted Viggo without hesitation; that wasn't an
issue. The thing was, I was about to step into the unknown, the
unimaginable.

My faith in Viggo gave me just enough
courage. After I took a long swig from my flask, I stepped next to
him. He wrapped his long arm around my shoulders, and then he began
to turn us in a circle. The dim outlines of my kitchen appliances
suddenly blurred into a dizzying darkness. It felt like we only
made one 360 degree turn, but in that short movement we'd slipped
into a jet-black void.

Shades of black swirled and pulsed all around
me. There was no smell, no sound, and nothing under my feet. I only
felt the pressure of Viggo's iron grip on my bruised shoulder. The
churning abyss started to surge. Bands of it flowed at me and
caressed my skin, like slow licks from a cold, dry tongue. A
chilling, lonely noise began to fill my ears and mind. I couldn't
hear myself, but I think I screamed.

Just as I was about to fully panic, Viggo
yanked us to one side. Sensations came rushing at me. My vision
cleared, like running out of a dark room. My boots landed
unsteadily on pavement, and I collapsed to my knees. I gulped for
breath and took in the stench of the dumpster I was kneeling next
to. I put my hand on the side of it to make sure it was actually
there. The air was cool, the only light came from a crescent moon,
and I could feel Viggo's presence behind me. My eyes focused on the
dark, dirty alley we were in. Just to be sure of my condition, I
clinched my butt to make sure I hadn't shit myself.

Viggo crouched next to me and waited until I
had control of myself. My hands were still shaking and my breath
was still ragged, but I managed to turn my head to him and say,
"I'm sorry I asked."

RAGNA

"You endured it quite well," Viggo said.

"Seriously, what was that?" I asked, back on
my feet but bent over with my hands on my knees. I could still feel
that touch of nothingness on my cheek and hands. It kept giving me
chills. I fumbled my flask out of my coat pocket and took a long
drink to help calm my nerves.

Viggo put a hand on my back. "It is an old
and rare Gift, once called 'travelling the abyss'. I now refer to
it as 'void-walking'. It was practiced by a small sect of Eidolons
long ago." His voice lowered and became more ominous than normal.
"I learned it when I drained them and consumed their souls."

Soul consumption sounded like some very bad
shit. I looked up at that cracked, gruesome face and saw that some
dark emotions had turned Viggo's rough features into a deep scowl.
He stared off, lost in a memory. As I studied his harsh profile, I
noticed shadows gathering around him, causing his form to shift and
blur. I thought he wasn't doing it consciously; it just seemed to
happen when he was feeling some deep emotion. I also thought that
the effect was spine-chilling every time I saw it.

I didn't want to keep standing in a damp,
smelly alley all night while he brooded, so I put my flask away and
spoke up. "So," I said quietly as I stood straight, "where are
we?"

Viggo brought his attention back to me and
answered, "We are in the claimed territory of Ragna, the dog-woman.
Ah, speak of the daemon . . ." He pointed to my right. I looked
past the dumpster and saw movement at the end of the alley. I was
just able to make out the shapes of a hunched figure with a full
shopping cart, surrounded by tail-wagging dogs of all sizes.

"That's Ragna?" The question fell out of my
mouth before I could stop myself. I couldn't make out her features
from that distance and lack of light, but she gave the impression
of an old, stooped homeless woman in layers of clothing.
That
was a powerful hemo?

"Don't let her appearance fool you," Viggo
advised. "She has chosen her lifestyle, and many within the other
factions underestimate her for it. Living on the street also keeps
her quite up to date on certain events. Ragna's body may be warped,
but her mind is strong. Her Gift of Fauna is potent; with that
comes her benevolence toward lost or discarded lesser beasts. I
will caution you, Leo; Ragna is eccentric and has peculiar views,
but she is both wise and trustworthy. Keeping my honor and your own
safety in mind, you
will
be respectful. I will speak with
her first. Wait here until I call for you."

"Yes sir." I watched the figure of my
commander slowly return to a solid form as he walked away. Some of
the dogs were at first apprehensive of his approach, but they
quickly calmed and returned their attention to her. Viggo, who
stood at over six and a half feet, looked even more like a giant
compared to Ragna's stooped form. While they talked, I looked
around at the two-and-three story brick buildings that framed the
alleyway; not many windows, and only a couple of them lit - a
commercial district, probably. It was a good place not to be
noticed. But, shit, it was a good place not to be in the first
place.

Just as I started to think about how fucked
up my situation was, I heard Viggo's deep, menacing voice echo up
the alley, calling my name. I jogged over to them and stopped at a
respectful distance. Ragna and Viggo stood at the end of the alley.
The nearby streetlights were conveniently burned out or broken.
There were a few parked cars on the desolate street. About half of
the small businesses that I could see were boarded up. Loose trash
lined the curbs. How fucking cheerful.

A dozen or so dogs that ranged from a little
furry mutt to a giant Rottweiler milled around Ragna, most of them
eyeing me warily. Ragna herself was a little surprising. What I
mean is, she mostly looked like your stereotypical vagrant - shawl
around her head with strands of dull hair sticking out, a ratty
scarf wrapped around her neck and mouth, worn knit gloves, and
layers of filthy clothing over her warped spine. Her eyes, though,
were beautiful; large and ice-blue. Her nose was petite, and her
cheekbones were high. I bet that under the grime and rags was at
one time an attractive woman.

I glanced at the shopping cart. From what I
could see, it was filled with a stained blanket, sleeping bag, and
a frayed tarp. Under those items were random bags of dog food,
plastic bags full of God knew what, a small radio, a stack of food
bowls, and a first-aid kit. Ragna saw me looking at its contents,
scowled at me, and pulled the cart behind her. Yeah, like I wanted
to steal any of that shit.

"Ragna," Viggo said to her, "this is the one
I spoke to you about - Leo."

She studied me with her big, light eyes, and
then sniffed long and deep. "You reek of liquor," she said in a
scratchy voice, slightly muffled by the scarf over her mouth. I was
ten feet away; I doubted she could actually smell my breath. I
figured she probably saw me taking a swig. "Out of respect for the
elder," she nodded her head at Viggo, "I'll be claiming you as my
minion for a time. But," Ragna pointed a finger at me, "don't you
dare be drunk in my presence. And add more cola to your whiskey to
mask the stench."

I reeked? Was she fucking kidding me? A
goddamn homeless woman telling me that
I
smelled? As Viggo
ordered, I kept my mouth shut. It wasn't easy. Then, unexpectedly,
Ragna leaned forward and fixed her eyes on me. For some reason, I
couldn't turn away, couldn't peel my eyes from her glare. After a
few seconds, it felt like something was prodding at my brain. I
squinted and tried to push back, if that makes any sense. "What are
- what're you doing?" I asked as I felt the pressure build.

Ragna turned her eyes away from me, and the
stress on my brain immediately vanished. To Viggo, she commented,
"His mind is stubborn."

"That is a good thing, no?" Viggo replied
almost proudly. "Leo's resolve would make it more difficult for any
others with the Gift to coerce him. I've already told you of his
other qualities. He is a worthy minion, and will serve you well
until I reclaim him." If it wasn't Viggo saying those things, I
would have been offended as hell, being talked about like a pet or
a slave. "One other topic needs to be addressed," he continued.
"Leo is currently without steady employment, so his time is yours.
However, he does have occupational options, one of which is
complicated but beneficial. Discuss it with him if you choose
to."

"Or I otherwise have to afford his needs?"
Ragna asked, obviously annoyed at the possibility.

"He is not one of your stray dogs," Viggo
answered sternly. "If you want to keep him constantly at your beck
and call, you must accept full responsibility. If his uses will not
outweigh your costs, then he must be allowed to garner his own
funding. We've spoken of this before, Ragna . . ."

She looked away, grimacing. "Yes, yes, elder,
I understand. I will hold true to our deal." She gave an irritable
hand signal to the dogs, and they all sat down around her.

"Good," he said agreeably. "I am off to make
arrangements for your request. Please send your runners out
straight away with word of your new minion." Viggo then turned to
me. "Leo, I must leave you in Ragna's good care for a short time,
as we have discussed. If you have further questions, she can answer
them as readily as I could. Of course, you can always call, but I
will be back to visit with you soon."

"Yes sir, I understand." I understood
logically, but my heart wasn't in my words. I knew the move was
best for his unspoken plans, and that I was still being afforded
some protection, but . . . shit. If Viggo was going to hang out in
crap-lined sewers for a year or something, I still would've wanted
to go with him. And for fuck's sake, why Ragna? Why not someone
like Barnabus, maybe? Okay, he might not have been as powerful, and
that big red eye was pretty freaky, but at least he was cool and I
would've learned from him. What was I gonna learn from some
miserly, cranky cripple with a dog fetish?

CHINESE

Viggo turned and walked out of the alley. I
stared at that brick corner he went around, wondering if all of
this was a good idea. That's when I noticed the huge - and I mean
huge - Rottweiler sniffing my leg. I bet he weighed more than I
did, and I wasn't small. I looked over to Ragna to ask how friendly
the black and tan monster was, and saw that she was busy digging
through the bags in her cart. I closed my eyes and hoped that when
I opened them I wouldn't be standing in a dark, smelly alley with a
pack of mongrels and a neurotic, homeless hemo. I thought I had a
firm answer to that 'good idea' question.

"Ah, here we are," Ragna announced as she
held up some sort of necklace. Without turning to me, she tossed it
in my direction and said, "Put that on. Wear it over your clothes."
I caught it and took a look. It was a small claw necklace on a thin
leather strap. Before I could ask, she explained while she repacked
her cart. "Owl talon, encased in silver - all of my minions wear
one so as not to be interfered with."

I squinted in the dark and saw that some of
the dogs, including the nosy Rott, wore one. "Are you saying that
I'm basically the same rank as a dog, ma'am?"

Ragna turned her bent body halfway in my
direction and looked past her shoulder at me. "Are you stupid? Of
course not; they're all above you." She turned back to her cart and
asked, "You have cash?"

I answered through clenched teeth, "Yes
ma'am, a little."

"Good, you buy your own dinner. Follow me."
Ragna got behind her cart and pushed it out onto the sidewalk. Her
pack of pets moved with her. With an exasperated sigh, I slipped on
the necklace and followed behind them.

Out of the alleyway, we went up to the next
street corner and turned again. Ragna stopped a few doors down and
shooed the dogs away from her, letting me approach. We stood in
front of a small Chinese restaurant, the Wise Owl Wok, with a
'closed' sign on the door. I guessed their wasted food was what
kept the alley so aromatic. Ragna rapped on the curtained picture
window, and we stood there waiting in silence. Ten seconds later,
an attractive Asian woman peered out of the window, and then
promptly unlocked the door. How and why a homeless hemo had
influence at that place, I didn't even ask.

The restaurant was narrow, deep and dark.
None of the dogs followed us inside. Lights were on back in the
kitchen, where I heard voices in foreign conversation. While the
woman locked up behind us, Ragna led me over to a booth and turned
on its overhead lamp before sitting down. Because of her curved
spine, she slumped on the table. With different company, the
ambiance would have been romantic. As I slid in across from Ragna,
she pulled out a pen from her layers of drab clothing and started
scribbling something on a napkin. The Asian woman set a menu in
front of me, then stepped back and waited.