Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth (24 page)

"We're all glad you're back, Taylor," said Walker, a little tartly. "But you'd better have some really good ideas, because we're all out. We're losing, John."

Outside the bar, I could hear the roar of unchecked fires and the rumble of explosions, running feet, human screams, and the cries of monsters loose in the streets. Merlin's shields were apparently still holding, but the War was edging closer. It occurred to me that this might be the last safe haven left in the Nightside. I remembered my Enemies, huddled together in their last refuge, and shuddered despite myself.

"What is there left for us to do?" said Walker. "We've tried open confrontation, manning the barricades, hit-and-run tactics, and guerrilla warfare, and none of it has ever done more than slow down Lilith's advance. Now there's just us… We're all good, in our own ways, but she's Lilith. Even her children were worshipped as gods for centuries. Lilith represents a kind of Power that's almost beyond our comprehension. And her army of followers is growing all the time. I like to think most of them have been terrorised into joining, and would cut and run if given a chance, but…"

Everyone looked at me, and the silence stretched, because I had nothing to say. I had no plans, no schemes, no last trick up my sleeve.

"Can't you use your gift, to find out what Lilith will do next?" said Cathy. It was hard for me to look at her. She still had faith in me. "Couldn't your gift find us a way to defeat her?"

I shook my head slowly. "I know you're trying to help, Cathy, but my gift doesn't work like that. And every time I raise my gift now, it's like running up a flag to tell Lilith exactly where I am."

"But you're always finding new things you can do with your gift," said Cathy.

"Specific questions lead me to specific answers," I said tiredly. "The vaguer the question, the harder it is to get any kind of answer that makes sense."

"Where did you get this gift, anyway?" said Ms. Fate, in his rough, smoky voice. "I would have loved to have a gift to help me. I had to create myself through hard work and long training."

"I won my gift in a poker game," said Tommy Oblivion, unexpectedly.

"It's true, he did," said his brother Larry. "And he was bluffing, with a pair of threes. I couldn't believe it."

"My gift was a legacy, inherited from my inhuman mother," I said. "My only legacy."

"Now that's interesting," said Mien Advent. "Why that gift, in particular, and no other? I mean, when your mother is an ancient Power and a Biblical myth, I think you could reasonably expect to inherit at least half of that power, simply through the operations of chance. If all you got was one specific gift, it's because that's what your mother intended. She wasn't prepared to risk your becoming powerful enough to challenge her, but she wanted you to have this gift for finding things. Why?"

An earthquake shook the bar. Tables rattled and chairs shimmied across the heaving floor. The walls creaked, and the long wooden bar groaned out loud. Everyone clung to each other, to keep from falling. Bottles toppled and crashed behind the bar, and the lights swung crazily. My first thought was that Lilith had found us at last, and was smashing her way through Merlin's defences, but as quickly as it started the disturbance faded away, and everything grew still again. We were all standing, prepared to defend ourselves in our various ways.

"The cellars!" Alex said abruptly. "I can hear something moving, down in the cellars!"

We all fell silent, listening. Nothing good could come from the cellars under Strangefellows. Finally, we heard faint but definite footsteps, coming up the stairs under the bar. Slow, measured, inexorable footsteps. And then the trap-door behind the bar flew open with a crash, and that ancient sorcerer, Merlin, came up into the bar. Merlin of Camelot, the Devil's only begotten son, risen up in his own dead body with the dirt still on him from where he'd burst up out of his own grave. I'd known that giant crucifix wouldn't hold him down if he wanted out.

Merlin strolled out from behind the bar, taking his time, enjoying the shock and apprehension in all our faces. Alex stared, open-mouthed. He'd never seen his ancestor before, because up till now Merlin had always manifested through him. This was the real deal, Merlin's dead body up and about again, raised from its long rest through an effort of supernatural will.

Merlin Satanspawn. A man born out of Hell who became a warrior for Heaven. And scared the crap out of both sides.

His face was long and heavy-boned, unrepentantly ugly, and two flames leapt in the empty sockets where his eyes should have been. (He has his father's eyes, they said…) His long grey hair and beard were stiff and packed with old clay. His skin was taut and cracked and stained with grave-moss, but still he looked in pretty good shape for someone who'd been dead and buried for fifteen hundred years. He wore the magician's robe they'd buried him in, a long scarlet gown with golden trimming round the collar. I remembered that robe. He'd been wearing it when I killed him, back in the Past. The robe hung open to reveal a bare chest covered in Druidic tattoos, interrupted by a great gaping hole, from where I'd torn the living heart out of his chest with my bare hands. For what seemed like good reasons at the time. As far as I knew, he didn't know I'd taken it.

Merlin came striding through the bar, and the tables and chairs drew back to get out of his way. His dead body made low, creaking sounds with every movement, and gravedirt fell off him. He wasn't breathing. He ignored Razor Eddie, standing ready with his straight razor shining impossibly bright in his filthy hand. He ignored Suzie Shooter, with her double-barrelled shotgun following his every movement. He ignored Dead Boy and Julien Advent and all the others. He came straight for me, his dead lips drawn back in a mirthless smile that showed brown teeth and grey leathery tongue.

He stopped right before me, and actually bowed slightly. "Here we are at last," he said, in a voice like everyone's favourite uncle. "Two sons of distinguished parents, who only ever wanted to be left alone to work out their own destinies. I was born to be the Antichrist, but I declined the honour and went my own way. And much good it did me. We've always had a lot in common, you and I, John Taylor."

"What brings you up here, sorcerer?" I asked. I kept my voice calm and easy through an effort of will. (First rule of operating in the Nightside—never let them see they've got you scared or they'll walk all over you.) "What brings you up out of your grave, after all these centuries?"

"To tell you things you need to know," he said, still smiling his unnerving smile. "I know why your mother bestowed only the one gift upon you, when she could have made you one of the greatest Powers in the Nightside. I am old and wise and I know many things I'm not supposed to. Being dead didn't stop me listening, and learning. Lilith gave you that one gift and no other because she intended to make use of you and it, on her return. Your gift will find for her the one thing that will make possible her control of the whole Nightside.

"I would have thought you'd have worked that out by now. If she could remake the Nightside by will alone, she would have done it by now, don't you think? But her creation has grown and changed so very much during the long centuries of her absence, become something far greater and more intransigent than she ever intended… Why else would a Power like Lilith need an army to subdue the Nightside?"

"Why haven't you manifested before?" Walker said sharply. "We could have used your help. Why wait till now, when it's almost too late?"

"I'm here now because you finally asked the right question," said Merlin, still looking only at me. He pulled up a chair and sat down before me, and his manner made it seem like a throne. His presence dominated the room, pulling all eyes to him. "Now I'm up and about again, Lilith will know I'm back. She'll know where to come, to find me. She has to face me, because I'm her only real rival. She'll never feel safe until she's seen me utterly destroyed and cast down."

"Can you stop her?" said Mien Advent.

Merlin ignored him, his fiery gaze fixed on me. "The protections I have set in place around this bar won't keep her out forever. She'll be here, very soon now. And if she finds me in my present condition, she'll strike me down with a look and a word and laugh while she does it. And then she'll take you over, John, make you her puppet, and use your gift as though it were her own. Just as she's planned from the very beginning."

I considered him for a long moment, letting the silence build. "But now you're here, to save the day. Because you have a plan, too, don't you, Merlin?"

He nodded. "Yes. I have a plan."

"Of course you do. You're Merlin Satanspawn, and you always have a plan."

"Don't drag my father into this," said Merlin. "You know very well we never got on. Now, John Taylor, I need you to use your gift for me. I need you to find my missing heart and bring it here to me. I will place it back in my breast, and then… Ah then, I will show you wonders and miracles beyond your wildest dreams! I will live again, my body made new and vital, and all my old power will return! I shall be the greatest magician of this Age, and walk out of this bar, free at last… to teach Lilith the error of her ways."

There was a long pause. I looked around, and it was clear that no-one except Merlin thought this was a good idea.

"You might win against Lilith," I said finally. "Or you might not. But even if you did… who's to say you might not prove as great a threat as she?"

Everyone looked at me, then at Merlin. He rose slowly up out of his chair, his dead body creaking and groaning, and I stood my ground, facing him unflinchingly.

"I could make you find my heart," said Merlin.

"No you couldn't," I said.

We stared at each other, both of us very still. I looked into the flames that were his eyes, and I'd never felt colder in my life. And in the end, Merlin looked away first. He sat down heavily on his chair. I sat down quickly, too, so no-one would see how badly my legs were shaking. There were impressed murmurs all around me, but I just nodded stiffly. I was the only one there who knew for sure that I'd been bluffing.

"I've had enough of this," I said harshly. "Enough of guesses and warnings and prophecies of doom. It's time to get to the heart of the matter, time to find out the truth, once and for all. You were right all along, Cathy. The only way to find out what I need to know, is to use my gift. So, gift, Why did Lilith give you to me ?"

I was ready for another fight, another concentrated effort of will that would half kill me, but in the end it was as easy as taking a deep breath. As though my gift had been waiting all my life for me to ask of it the one question that really mattered. My shadow stood up before me, separating itself, taking on form and substance until it looked exactly like me, right down to the white trench coat with the flapping sleeve. Exactly like me, in every detail—except my doppelganger's eyes were full of darkness. It leaned against a table and folded its arms across its chest, smiling mockingly at me.

"Took you long enough," it said. Its voice was smooth, assured, and only just short of openly taunting. "Well, here I am, John. Your gift personified, ready to answer all your questions."

"All right," I said. My mouth was very dry. "How do you work? How is it you're always able to find the things that are hidden from everyone else?"

"Easy. I tap directly into reality itself. I see everything that is, all at once. I'm really so much more than you ever allowed me to be, John."

"Damn," Tommy said quietly. "That is… really spooky."

"Why did Lilith give you to me?" I said.

"Because she intends to use you to find the Speaking Gun. The most powerful weapon in the world. It was originally created to kill angels and demons, but it can do so much more than that. Lilith will use the Speaking Gun to remake the Nightside in her own image. Return it to what she originally intended it to be, before Humanity infested and perverted it from its true purpose and nature. She was responsible for the Gun's creation, long and long ago. Adam gave of his rib and his flesh to make Eve, and after Lilith came back up from Hell, having lain down with demons and given birth to monsters, she also gave of her rib and her flesh, to make the Speaking Gun. With the help of Abraxus Artificers."

"Yeah," Suzie said suddenly. "That was engraved on the stock of the Speaking Gun; Abraxus Artificers, the old firm, solving problems since the beginning. I've always been very good at remembering things, where weapons are involved."

"Very good," said my double. "Now shut up and listen, and you might learn something. Abraxus Artificers were the descendants of Cain, the first murderer. How else do you think they could fashion such marvellous weapons of destruction?" My double paused. "You do all realise that I'm talking in parables, representing a far more complicated reality? Good. I shall continue. The Speaking Gun was designed to speak backwards the echoes of the original Word of Creation, which resonates on in everything, giving each separate thing its own true secret name. By speaking this secret name backwards, the Speaking Gun can thus unmake or uncreate anything. But the Speaking Gun could be used, by someone with enough power, someone who gave of their own flesh to make it, to respeak those secret names, and thus change their essential nature. Lilith will use the Speaking Gun to respeak the Nightside, making it over into whatever she wants it to be. Personally, I can't wait to see what she's going to do…"

"That's enough," I said, and shut down my gift. It didn't fight me, just collapsed back into darkness, and my shadow was nothing more than my shadow. I wondered if I'd ever look at it in the same way again. Or ever really trust my gift, knowing that it lived within me like a parasite.

"So," Walker said finally, "who has the Speaking Gun? My people lost track of it some time back."

"I last saw it here, in this bar, with the future Suzie Shooter," said Alex, glancing apologetically at Suzie. "Before Merlin banished both of them."

"Don't look at me," said Merlin. He sounded a lot smaller, since I'd stared him down. "I only sent them away. They could be anywhere now. Or anywhen."