Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth (14 page)

I chose the wrong turning and ended up in a side street blocked by piled-up cars. Too tall to climb and no way past. There was a door to one side. I grabbed at the brass handle and it came away in my hand, jerked right out of the rotten wood. I kicked at the door, and it absorbed my foot like spongy fungus. I pulled my foot free and turned around, and there was the great black slug, blocking the street, towering over me. I leaned forward, gasping for breath, coughing out the dust in my lungs. I had nothing on me that could deal with such a monster, no tricks or magics or last-minute escapes. I started to raise my gift, hoping it could find me a way out, then the black slug lurched forward, and my concentration shattered.

Up close, it stank of brine, of the sea. Of something that should have remained hidden at the bottom of the deepest ocean. It hung over me, impossibly huge, then it stopped, as though… considering me. I could have reached out and touched it, but I could no more have made myself do that than plunge my bare hand into a vat of acid. And then, slowly, a reflection formed on the flat black surface of the Beast, facing me, coming into focus like an old photo, or an old memory. An image of me. The Beast remembered me. Slow ripples spread across the black surface, increasing in speed and urgency, and it lurched backwards, returning the way it had come, until finally it disappeared back into the night.

It knew me. And it was terrified of me.

I sat down on some rubble and concentrated on getting my breathing back under control. I could feel my heart hammering like a pile-driver, and my hands were shaking. It was times like this that I wished I smoked. Eventually my composure returned, and I looked around me. I had no idea where I was. All the landmarks were gone, beaten down into mess and ruin. Everywhere looked the same. Civilisation had come and gone, and only monsters stalked old London's streets. I shuddered suddenly. It was very cold, here at the end of the world. But I still had work to do. No rest for the wicked. I got to my feet again, beat my numbed hands together, and raised my gift. There was nothing to See. The unseen world was as dead and gone as everything else. But when I concentrated, it only took me a moment to find the lair of my Enemies. Their light was feeble and flickering, but still it shone like a beacon in this darkest of nights. I shut down my gift and set off in the direction it had shown me. It wasn't far.

I kept well away from the Beasts. Or maybe they were keeping away from me. Either way, nothing crossed my path till I came to my Enemies' hideout. Again, it looked just as I remembered it. A cracked, crumbling house in a rotted tenement, with nothing obviously different about it. No light showed at any of the shuttered windows, but I could feel light and life inside, hidden, barricaded against the monsters of the night. I advanced slowly, carefully, using just enough of my gift to See the concealed protections and magical booby-traps covering all possible approaches to the house. Most were of the Don't see me, nothing here, move along kind, but surprisingly they were all keyed to abhuman energies. None of them would activate even if I walked right through them. Perhaps they no longer had any reason to expect human visitors. Or maybe they just needed to be able to get back inside at a moment's notice. The outer door wasn't even locked.

I let myself in and moved silently through the gloom and tension of the broken-down house. My eyes had adjusted to the gloom of the end of the world, but it was still hard to see anything inside. I trailed the fingertips of one hand along the nearest wall, to keep my bearings, and the plaster crumbled into dust under my touch. I strained my ears against the quiet, and finally I caught the first faint traces of sound, from the end of the corridor before me. I padded forward and came to a door camouflaged in the wall. It wasn't locked either. I slipped through the door, and for the first time there was light, real light. I stopped to let my eyes adjust. Butter yellow light leaked round the edges of another door, in the wall ahead. The light looked warm and comforting. It looked like life. I eased over to the door. It was a little ajar. I pushed it open a few more inches, and looked through. And there were my Enemies, just as I'd seen them before, in my vision.

They had a great haunch of unidentifiable meat cooking over an open fire, turning slowly on a rough metal spit. They were all crouched around it, utterly intent, not even aware of my presence. Such familiar names and faces. Jessica Sorrow, Larry Oblivion, Count Video, King of Skin, Annie Abattoir. All of them major players and even Powers in their time, now fallen far from what they had once been. They were huddled together, as much for companionship and comfort as against the cold that seeped through even into the hidden room. All of them small ragged figures, with fear and hopelessness written deep in their bony, malnourished faces.

Jessica Sorrow, no longer the terrible Unbeliever, looked almost unbearably human and vulnerable as she sat cross-legged before the fire, as close to the flames as she could get without burning herself. She hugged an ancient teddy bear in her skinny arms, holding it close to her shrunken chest. She wore a battered black leather jacket and leggings, that looked a lot like the ones Suzie always wore.

Next to her sat Larry Oblivion, the dead detective. Betrayed and murdered by the only woman he ever really loved, brought back as a zombie, surviving now even when he would probably rather not, because he couldn't die again. His dead pale flesh showed through the tatters of what had probably once been a very expensive suit. Unlike the others, he didn't look tired, or defeated. He just looked angry.

Count Video was a mess. He wore nothing but a collection of leather straps, and his skin was wrinkled and loose in places, from where it had been stitched back on after the angel war. Heavy black staples held him together, in places. Silicon nodules and sorcerous circuitry projected from puckered skin, soldered into place long ago to form the necrotech that powered his binary magics. Plasma lights sputtered on and off around his wasted body, and a halo of intermittent energies cast an unhealthy light on his twitching face.

King of Skin was just a man here, stripped of his once-terrible glamour. In my time he could have killed with a word or enslaved with a look, but not here, not now. He was all skin and bone, his gaze distant and unfocused. Objects of power hung about him on tangled silver chains, half-hidden under a thick fur coat with patches torn away. He rocked back and forth on his haunches, perhaps lost in memories of better times, because memory was all he had left.

And finally, Annie Abattoir; assassin and seductress, secret agent and confidence trickster, praised and feared and damned in a dozen countries. She wore what was left of a long crimson evening gown, the low-cut back showing off the mystic symbols carved deep into the flesh between her shoulder blades. She'd always been very hard to kill, though many had tried, often with good reason. Though she was six-foot-two and still mostly muscle, her face held little of its old striking charm. She looked… diminished. Beaten down.

I finally announced my presence with a polite cough, and they all spun round, scrambling to their feet, ready to fight. Their eyes widened, and a few jaws dropped as they recognised me, then King of Skin cried out like a hurt child and scurried away to crouch in a corner, terrified and trembling. Count Video's face convulsed with rage, and new energies crackled around him as his necrotech sparked into life.

"Don't!" I said quickly. "I'm protected! And I mean seriously protected, by major magics. Anything strong enough to break through my defences would almost certainly attract the attention of the Beasts outside. And I don't think any of us want that, right?"

Annie Abattoir looked uncertain, a glowing dagger in each hand, but after a tense moment Larry Oblivion stepped forward and put a hand on her arm and Count Video's, and they both reluctantly nodded and stepped back. Larry Oblivion studied me coldly.

"I don't see any protections…"

I grinned. "Of course not. That's how good they are."

I was bluffing, but they had no way of knowing that. And they didn't dare risk being discovered.

"John Taylor," Larry said slowly. "How is it that you are here? Did you bring yourself back from the dead, too?"

"Time travel," I said briskly. "For me, Lilith has only just happened. The War hasn't started yet. I'm here looking for answers, and advice."

"Let me kill him," said Count Video. "He has to die. For what he did, he has to die!"

"Yes," said Larry. "But not now. Not here."

Annie made the Count sit down by the fire again. King of Skin was still shivering in his corner, in a spreading pool of urine, crying childish tears. It hurt me to see him that way. I'd never liked him, but I always respected him. Annie Abattoir and Jessica Sorrow stood before me, on either side of Larry Oblivion. They looked at me like I was a ghost, some horrid spectre at the feast, some ancient evil from their worst nightmares. And maybe I was.

"My brother Tommy fought on your side," Larry said finally. "In the great War against Lilith. He trusted you, even though he had good reason not to. And when they struck him down you just stood there, and watched him die, and did nothing to help."

I spread my hands helplessly. "You're judging me over something I haven't even done yet. And may never do… That's why I'm here. I need you to tell me what I have to do to prevent all this happening." They stared back at me, unconvinced. I took a step forward. When dealing with Enemies, it's all about confidence, or at least the appearance of it. I gestured at the great haunch of meat burning over the fire. It smelled really bad. "You seem to be preparing dinner. Do you mind if I join you? There's nothing like struggling to avoid the Apocalypse to give you an appetite. What are we having?"

Larry snorted, amused despite himself. "That… is one of Lilith's children. Pretty much all there is left to eat, these days. Apart from the bodies. There are still a lot of dead people left over from the War, but we haven't been reduced to cannibalism. Not yet. Oh yes, they're still lying around; decades after the War. Nothing decays any more, you see. Except the buildings. All kinds of strange energies were released during the final days of your struggle with your mother. And now all the natural processes are… out of order. Existence follows new rules now. Sometimes we don't feel the need to eat or drink for days or even weeks at a time. And we don't sleep. Bad dreams can take on a life of their own, these days."

"It's hard to keep track of time any more," said Jessica, in a voice like a shell-shocked child's. "There's no way of measuring it, you see. There are no days, the night never ends, and watches don't work even though there's nothing wrong with them. Perhaps you and Lilith broke Time, during the War…" She cocked her head to one side, like a bird, still fixing me with her direct, unblinking gaze. "How did you know where to find us?"

"My gift," I said. "And a little help from an angel."

Her mouth twitched briefly. "You always did move in exalted circles, John."

"Heaven and Hell have abandoned us," Annie Abattoir said harshly. "Nothing left to fight over, any more. Do you know who we are? Why we stay together? Why we still struggle to survive, in this worst of all possible worlds?"

"Yes," I said. My mouth was suddenly dry. "You're my Enemies. You've been trying to kill me ever since I was born, striking back through Time, to kill me before I do… whatever it is I do that brings about the destruction of the Nightside."

"And the world," Larry said flatly. "Don't think this is just London. There's nothing else."

"We had to do it," said Jessica. "It was…"

"Oh please!" I said. "Don't you dare say It was nothing personal! You and your Harrowing have hounded me all my life! I've never been able to feel safe, feel secure, because I could never know when your bloody assassins would appear suddenly out of nowhere, killing everyone in their path for a chance to get at me! You made my life a living Hell!"

"You made the world a living Hell," said Count Video. "Everything we've done is justified by what you did."

"I haven't done anything yet!"

"But you will, John," said Jessica. "You will."

I made myself control my temper. I was here for their help. And there was still one question I hadn't asked. Something I had to know.

"Where's Suzie?" I said. "Where's my Shotgun Suzie?"

Larry looked a little surprised. "You expected her to be here?"

"She tried to kill me," I said. The words hurt, but I forced them out. "She told me she was one of you. That's why I came here, through Time, for information. The future isn't set in stone. This doesn't have to happen. Tell me what you know. The things only you know."

"She volunteered, to be made into one of our assassins," said Larry. "You do know she volunteered, to be made over into… what we made her?"

"Yes," I said. "She told me. We never did believe in keeping secrets from each other."

Jessica hugged her teddy bear tightly, resting her chin on its battered head. "She never came back. We assumed you killed her, like all our other agents. What did happen to her, John?"

"Merlin ripped off her arm," I said steadily. "The one with the Speaking Gun attached to it. Then she disappeared. She was still alive, the last time I saw her. I had hoped… she'd made it back here."

"No," said Annie. "We haven't seen her. We have to assume she's lost to us. Another death on your conscience, Lilith's son."

"He has no conscience," said Count Video. "He's not human. Not really. Why should he have human feelings?"

"I was human enough to get past your defences," I said.

"Then we'll have to tighten them up," said Larry.

I looked at Jessica. "I see you still have your teddy."

"Yes," she said. "You found him for me. I remember. He brought me back to life, and sanity."

"I'm glad I could help," I said.

She shook her head slowly. "I'm not. This world would be so much easier to bear if I was still crazy. Still safely mad."

"Ah well," I said. "No good deed goes unpunished."

"Especially in the Nightside," she said.