Into the Shadows (24 page)

With the box of books in the back of my car,
I went about turning that pouch into cash. After that, I stopped in
at Keegan's for a few more drinks. Thinking that I might have
another meal at the Wise Owl Wok, I only ordered some pub grub to
accompany the alcohol. It was good to see the staff and a few
regulars again, with the bonus of making vague plans to get
together with Tanya soon. The sky was already dark when I left the
bar, so I drove straight over to Ragna's shitty neighborhood and
waited in my car outside the restaurant.

I was listening to Glazefinger's latest CD
when Gungnir pressed his wet nose against my window. I hurriedly
grabbed the box of Edward's books and followed him back to the
alley. As expected, Ragna was there with her shopping cart and a
pack of dogs milling around her. She waited until I put the box
down on the cart's undercarriage before she debriefed me about my
messenger mission.

When Ragna was finished with her questions,
she said, "We meet with Fletcher the night after next. Be here at
eleven. If you're done bothering me for tonight, you can go drink
or fornicate or hit things until then. But be here on time and
sober. And for Baldur's sake, wear some less offensive
cologne."

I did not understand how her mind worked. I
was told to be there, and, considering that I brought news of a
successful mission, I thought Ragna would be happy - or at least as
close as she came to happy. Her mood swings were like a teenage
drama queen's on her period, only a thousand times more dangerous.
She switched emotional gears often, and I couldn't see a pattern to
it. Per Viggo's order, though, I had to deal with her
'eccentricities'. "Well actually, I do have a few questions if you
don't mind, ma'am."

Ragna made a grunt of irritation. "Only for
your master do I put up with this. Be quick with what plagues that
small mind of yours tonight."

I tell ya, if Ragna wasn't a woman . . . or
able to turn my brain into pudding, or able to send a pack of
hellhounds to tear me apart, I would've kicked her ass. Yeah,
right. I bet she'd laugh if someone planted an ax in her face. It
probably would've also improved her looks. "Uh, yes ma'am. First, I
was wondering if your pets get smarter after you make them minions.
That one you sent with me the other night -"

"I was correct; you're an idiot. I sent Auga
- that's her name; it means 'eye'. I sent her with you because, of
all my dogs, she has the strongest sight. I used one of my Gifts of
Fauna to see through her eyes, as well as her other senses. I now
know where Edward Galloway lives. I also know where
you
live, too. By the way, your bed smells like semen and whiskey, and
there's a dead mouse in your hall closet."

Okay, that was more of an answer than I was
expecting, but it reminded me to do some cleaning when I got home.
"Uh, alright, thanks. Now, about a month and a half ago, Barnabus
said something that I'd been meaning to ask about. I think it was
like 'lifting the veil'?"

"Oh, that," Ragna replied as she began
handing out dog biscuits to each of her pets. "The veil, the
facade, the charade; all those terms apply to the same thing. It is
a way to describe concealing our existence from mortals, sometimes
in plain sight. One of our rules is to not reveal ourselves, or we
are all in danger. You couldn't figure that out on your own?"

I treated the insulting question as
rhetorical and ignored it. "Okay, one more question."

Ragna stared at me with those big, icy eyes
and said, "It's about your master, yes? You want to know how the
Veleti became a legend . . ."

"Well, yeah. I mean, just the name made the
Doyenne nervous. Oh, and Edward Galloway actually prays to him.
Fine, Ed's a whack job, but somewhere he got the idea that Viggo is
a fucking god."

"Ah, and you don't think your numen master
deserves such high acclaim?"

I took a deep breath to stop myself from
saying something rash. "Please don't twist what I'm trying to say,
ma'am," I managed to state calmly. "I know my commander is
powerful. It's just that I have no one to compare him to, no gauge
to understand." I planned to look up what 'numen' meant later
on.

"I doubt that few truly do," she said
frankly. "Your master's progeny is strong; I daresay he is a fifth
scion from the source, perhaps even fourth. Those with blood that
strong have the potential for pushing their Gifts to heights I can
barely imagine. Add that to the rumor of the Veleti's age - some
estimate fifteen hundred years or more. Try to grasp what I say
next: those Eidolons of such power and age eventually tire of
prowling the night. I'm told it's about the time they reach a
millennium."

That made me concerned. "What do you mean,
tire?"

"Exactly what I said," Ragna answered
sharply. "Most ancient ones have seen enough, experienced enough, I
suppose. They find safe places to sleep for centuries or more. Who
knows if any of them will rise again? I've heard tales of others
going mad from their long, dark existences, and step out into the
day. But those tales are rare. My point is that most Eidolons as
old and strong as your master are in slumber. For reasons I do not
know, the Veleti has never rested. And because he has remained
active, his Gifts have been given that much more time to
strengthen, nearly into myth. Some mortal children are told of
monsters, of a boogeyman. Elders and scholars of the other factions
are told of the Veleti."

SEWER

The realization hit me; the oath Viggo made
to watch over my line was the reason he never rested. I felt sort
of sick. I didn't want to ask any more questions. I wanted away
from that alley. I wanted to talk to Viggo, and at the same time I
had no idea what I'd say.

Ragna's raspy voice got my attention. "Hold
on a moment, Beck. I've thought about it . . . I may have been too
lenient with the misguided Adept you visited today. Go follow
through with my threat."

I wasn't expecting that. "Whoa, wait a
second. I told Galloway that he should pack up and leave town. You
don't expect him to do that in a matter of hours, do you?"

"I expect you to do as I say. Your master has
left you in my charge, and I doubt he'd object to my order."

"That's pretty much murder, Ragna," I said
with restrained emotion. "That Edward guy might be nuts, but he
hasn't really hurt anyone that I know of."

She stepped closer and glared at me. "His
teachings are a lie. His sermons are profane! Edward Galloway is a
beguiler who preys on the weak and the lost! His so-called religion
is the product of a demented mind, and he will spew false hope
wherever he goes! What I call for will be saving other unfortunates
from the Sentinel fallacy!"

That little rant made me and the dogs
nervous. For some reason, the whole Sentinel church thing had
gotten under Ragna's skin, but she'd quickly gone from irritated to
right on the verge of bat-shit crazy. I did not want an unbalanced
elder hemo getting pissed at me. Maybe she saw the doubt and fear
in my expression, or maybe she just took it out of my head. Either
way, Ragna used a slightly different tactic when she added, "He
slanders the name of your master, and you hesitate? You know this
is right, Beck! Do not make me force you!"

At that moment, I thought she was ready to do
just that. Yeah, the slander bit was true, but I thought the
warning for Edward to get out of town - and shooting him - was
equal punishment. I backed away from Ragna, avoided eye contact,
and told her I saw her logic. When that seemed to calm her down a
notch, I excused myself and hurried back to my car. I abused the
engine with how fast I rocketed out of her neighborhood, more than
once making sure there was no dog in my backseat.

On the drive home, I called the ShadoWorks
number. Viggo answered on the third ring. "I need to talk to you as
soon as possible, sir," I blurted. "It's very important." He said
he'd come to my house in an hour or so. I wanted to stay sharp and
clear-headed to explain the situation, but I also needed to smooth
out my nervous edges. I compromised by slamming only three shots of
whiskey.

A little while later, Viggo knocked on my
back door. I unlocked it to let him in, but he waved me out onto
the patio. The wind had picked up, and a thin drizzle had begun.
"No offense to your home, Leo," he said with that voice that made
me think of grinding rocks, "but I am concerned with it being
monitored by listening devices. You have become an interest to
various parties. We can discuss your topics in a safer location."
He held an arm out to his side. "Come travel with me."

Oh fuck
, I thought,
here we go
again
.

Viggo's strong hand reached around me and
gripped my shoulder. A sudden spin and I no longer felt the uneven
patio blocks under my boots or cold drizzle on my face. I tried to
forget the first time he'd taken me on a 'void walk', and not very
successfully. The second time wasn't quite as horrific; maybe it
was because I knew what to expect. The caresses of the black
tongues weren't as eager, like they'd already had a taste of me and
had lost curiosity. As a result, I was sure I didn't scream like a
little girl. Don't get me wrong, though - the second experience was
nearly as disorienting and disturbing as the first.

Just as I felt solid ground under my feet, a
gagging stench flooded my senses. My eyes started watering
immediately. I wanted to breathe through my mouth to give my nose a
break, but I was afraid of getting a taste of the fumes. The sound
of flowing water made me blink through my tears to see where I was
at.

Viggo pressed a small flashlight in my hand.
Surrounded by stained concrete, he and I stood in a sewer alcove.
Behind us were algae-caked metal rungs set into the wall that led
twenty feet up to a manhole cover. A tunnel was few steps in front
of us; the obvious source of the stench. I stepped out and looked
from left to right - the light didn't penetrate very far into the
darkness. The drainage tunnel was maybe six feet wide with a
barreled ceiling, and a cluster of small pipes were secured to the
far wall.

Half of the sewer's floor was a sunken
channel for water to drain, although I had trouble thinking of the
lumpy grayish-brown liquid as water. The other half - the near
half, thankfully - was a walkway full of cracks and loose chunks of
cement. A thin film of sludge covered most everything, and tufts of
algae filled any cracks. In the few seconds that I held the light
on the flowing sewage, I saw a broken milk crate and a shit-stained
Aqua Man doll float by.

"It is pleasant, no?" Viggo asked with a lilt
in his craggy voice.

I coughed and tried to spit out the tang of
sewer that had quickly gathered in the back of my mouth. "Uh, no
sir," I managed to say.

"It is an acquired odor, I'll admit," he
said. "Follow me. You won't have to endure it for too long." Viggo
made a strange noise, sort of like how Ragna lured her dogs for a
treat. He then stepped past me and began strolling down the walkway
to the left. I followed behind, fighting the urge to retch. "You
should feel fortunate, Leo," he commented airily. "For those who
are desperate enough for information to come visit us, this is not
one of the passages that we avail to them."

"Are you saying that you make your visitors
use other tunnels that are somehow worse?" I asked over the
constant run of the wastewater, hearing my voice echo in the
dark.

"Oh, quite - the tunnels we reserve for them
don't have walkways."

Just the thought of that made me stop and try
to cough up my last meal. Right after I cleared my throat I heard
another noise, a low din of shuffling and soft scraping. I turned
the flashlight behind me, and wished I hadn't. Starting about
twenty feet behind us, the walkway was filled with rats as far back
as the light would shine. The horde of dirty fur and red eyes was
moving toward me, slow and steady. I pulled my Glock and said to
myself, "I am so screwed."

ILLUSION

"What are you doing?" Viggo calmly asked me.
I was training my sights on one of the rats in front, a big black
bastard about the size of a housecat. I hesitated with an answer,
figuring my commander wouldn't want to hear the smartass reply that
came to mind. "Those are my other minions," he said right behind
me, "and I would be displeased with you shooting any of them."

I immediately lowered my gun, and saw that
the vermin army had come to a stop in front of me. No shit, they
just . . . stopped and waited. It was pretty cool trick for a huge
pack of overgrown sewer rats.

"I called for them as soon as we arrived,"
Viggo said. "They are needed for a chore. You have no need to fear
them, Leo. Now come along. It is a short distance further to one of
my dens." He turned and continued down the pitch-black walkway.

I reluctantly turned and shined the light on
Viggo's back. When he started walking again, so did the horde of
rats. I had to pick up my pace to stay ahead of them. A minute
later I heard gurgling and splashing in front of us. I was nervous
about the sound until I saw that it was just water draining from
ports cut into the far wall. Another twenty yards beyond those, the
tunnel spilt into a Y. The bad part was the walkway ended there. I
was not dressed to go wading through a canal of human waste.

Viggo stopped before we came to the end of
the walkway and turned to me. "Leo, this is a good time explain how
some Gifts work. The physical powers - strength, speed, endurance -
they merely build upon themselves if one desires to increase them.
Other Gifts, however, allow for a range of abilities as they
increase. Take the Gift of Shadows, for example. First let me state
that it is not the same as the Gift of the Void, which I use to
travel. The Gift of Shadows is a power that all Deviants possess to
some degree. It allows for supernatural abilities in illusion and
stealth."