The Indestructibles (Book 3): The Entropy of Everything (15 page)

Chapter 32:

The castle in the sky

      It took Doc Silence some time to find Lady Natasha Grey in this expiring future.

      Most magicians worth the title knew how to cover their tracks, to erase their footprints in the ether. It wasn't difficult to do, but it was a challenge to do it well. Unfortunately for Doc, Natasha was the best in the world at hiding her presence.

      Fortunately, though, she had very little competition here. There are precautions you take out of habit, Doc knew, and there were safety measures you took when you discovered your mortal enemies were looking for you. Even the Lady was capable of cutting corners, letting her guard down, if she thought she'd removed all threats to herself in the world.

      Eventually, using old magic and mortal detective work, Doc found her trail. He followed her through the astral plane, walking across sand that sparkled like crushed diamonds under a purple sky, watching as the ghosts of dead wizards wandered by searching for bodies they could never return to.

      He wondered if he would see himself there, among the dead. Magicians had a way of hanging onto this world, peering through the torn fabric of realities, refusing to believe their lives were truly over.

      When he found Natasha's hideaway, he smiled. Always the flair for the melodramatic.

      Adrift on a cumulous cloud, slowly meandering across the night sky, Natasha built a castle like something from an old fairy tale. Four tall towers, a gate and drawbridge, and guarded by a pair of gryphons riding on the wind. Castle Grey.

      She's always said that she wanted a citadel in the sky, Doc thought. But all the years he knew her, the Lady had insisted it wasn't possible. Not because of the magic—the supernatural power to build a castle in the clouds was not as difficult as one might think—but because she was a nomad, because she kept no home and few friends. The Lady remained a creature of impermanence, and to build a home, to build a castle, was to put down roots and stay.

      It seems like she's found her compromise, he mused. A castle that moves with the wind.

      Doc returned to his body from the astral plane, gathered his belongings, and reviewed the words to key spells and enchantments he might need. One of these, permanently etched to his body, allowed him to fly. He casually stepped off the ground and drifted a few inches from the floor of the small room he'd used as a way station while searching for Natasha. Then, he carefully crafted a teleportation spell that would take him to the castle in the sky.

      A heartbeat later, he hung above the clouds, the earth below not identifiable as any particular place in the world. The Lady chose to moor her castle in a place where she wouldn't be disturbed easily, Doc noticed.

      He flew slowly toward the front gate of the castle, and two of the massive gryphons, big as Shire horses, landed to block his way.

      Doc held out a hand, an arcane symbol glowed there in greeting. Both gryphons relaxed and then bowed their heads in respect. Odd that Natasha would choose such creatures to guard her palace, Doc thought. She'd always been more inclined to darker beasts, demons and devils. Gryphons were violent and dangerous, but they had, over the millennia, always been more servants of light than of darkness, and Doc had made friends among the surprisingly intelligent creatures. You chose very noble protectors for yourself this time, Doc thought. Perhaps it was because gryphons were, for the most part, honorable monsters, and required less care in handling than demons would. The latter always needed more wrangling, more bribery, and the diligence of a constant eye to ensure they wouldn't betray you.

      And given Natasha's arrogance, Doc thought gryphons were particularly humble creatures for her to employ. He figured she at best would have discovered a way to be protected by a dragon. Though dragons were notoriously hard to bargain with as well.

      Either way, these guards of the Lady's castle allowed Doc to walk right up to the front entrance and knock.

      He waited a moment, listened to the echo of his rapping fist against the huge door. Then, the clangs and creaks as the gateway unlocked from within.

      Natasha Grey had answered the door herself. She looked not a moment older than the last time He'd seen her, but Doc knew that her unchanging immortality was a bargain she'd made long ago. He hadn't expected her to age in twenty years. Her hair appeared different, longer. She wore a dark gown, simple and black, that fell all the way to her ankles, ending just above her bare feet.

      "So now it's ghosts who come knocking on my door these days," Natasha said.

      "I'm not a ghost, Natasha."

      "Have you come for revenge, then?" the Lady said. "I'd deserve it, I suppose. Though revenge is not a very Doc Silence thing to do."

      "Perhaps we might just need to talk for a bit," Doc said.

      He'd expected something different from her, more defensiveness, more rage. But this woman standing before him, who had been, through his entire life, the single most dangerous person he knew, felt harmless. Defeated. And something else.

      She seemed lonely.

      I can't let my guard down, Doc thought, looking into the burning eyes of his friend, his nemesis. I can't allow her to fool me.

      But he knew her. He understood her so well. And the one thing he could do that no other magician, no demon, no wizard or immortal being had ever figured out to do was know when the Lady was lying. Only he knew her tell. It was the one thing he possessed over her, the one way he was able to stop her if he had to. Because the Lady Natasha Grey was the patron saint of liars, the goddess of falsehood, and that was how she'd built her empire of magic. How she gained immortality. Through the long con.

      And Natasha wasn't trying to lie to him now. He knew it.

      "Come inside," the Lady said. "You and I have some catching up to do."

*  *  *

      Natasha led him through a vast antechamber, down a long, elegant corridor to a sitting room right out of a post-Edwardian lord's home. Doc listened, both with his human ears and with spells of detection, to determine if there was anyone else in the castle, but it seemed that the Lady decided to live alone in the sky. Small creatures, air elementals and wood golems, moved busily throughout the home, puttering away, keeping it neat.

      She gestured to a rose-colored couch, and Doc sat down, crossing his legs. Natasha chose a chair designed in a garden pattern. Another hand gesture summoned a tray with a kettle and teacups and that set floated in, carried by one of the little air elementals, which then poured for the couple. The full teacups rose from the serving tray and flew delicately to the waiting hands of Doc and Natasha.

      "Bergamot tea," Doc said.

      "Let it never be said I have no sense of humor," Natasha said. She leaned in. "Where are you from, Doctor? Another plane? Another reality?"

      "A different timeline," Doc said.

      If she wasn't going to lie to him, he saw no reason to be untruthful with her.

      Natasha nodded her head just slightly.

      "Your little friend."

      "Annie, for some reason, thinks this timeline is worth saving," Doc said. "She came to me for help."

      "Because you weren't here in this timeline to ask," the Lady said.

      "And I'm told you may have had a little something to do with that," he said.

      Natasha smiled and gazed out the nearest window, a high-peaked structure of coiled iron and glass.

      "It was just business," the Lady said. "And you and I always knew we'd have to face each other someday. How could we exist the way we did forever?"

      "And what way is that?" Doc asked.

      "Have we never fought in your timeline?" Natasha said. "Have we never been adversaries?"

      "All the time," Doc said. He sipped his tea, tasting hints of citrus, then focused on the raised etching of the teacup beneath his fingertips. She probably made this herself, he thought, impressed with the elegance of her imagination.

      "And we've never tried to kill each other," she said.

      "We simply don't do that," Doc said. "And we've both done some very irrational things to avoid really hurting each other. I'd like to know what's different here."

      "How do we ever know?" Natasha said. "You and I, we've walked the planes. We realize how one little thing can alter an entire reality. That an elder god from a time long since forgotten can sneeze in one instance and suddenly there's a reality where the oceans turn pink and the skies are silver. We've been to places where dreams are dreamt by mortals one night and the next they are born in flesh and walk on the other side of the veil. How can we ever understand why we might fight to the death in one timeline, and simply play chess in another?"

      They studied their tea, not making eye contact, not speaking. Outside, clouds drifted idly by.

      "Are you here to destroy me then?" the Lady said.

      "What?"

      "You've been brought here to save this dead little world. You know I killed you once. Have you come to stop me from getting in your way again?"

      "I think at first I did," Doc said. "But I can't hurt you. Never been able to hurt you. I love you too much. That's always been the problem."

      Natasha's glass dropped from her hand and shattered on the floor.

      Doc felt a slight breeze when the little air elemental zipped across the room to clean up the mess.

      But Natasha waved the creature away. Instead, she picked up a shard of the porcelain glass with her hands and held it up between two fingers.

      "In your timeline," the Lady began, never taking her eyes from the broken teacup. "In your timeline, did you ever reveal as much?"

      "Did I ever tell you I loved you?"

      "Yes," she said.

      Doc nodded gently. "Of course I did. You were my closest friend, for a long while. You taught me most everything I know. Of course I told you I loved you."

      Natasha smiled. Not a happy smile, one without warmth, filled with subtext and frustration. She finally dropped the piece of porcelain onto the floor.

      "So I knew that?" she said.

      "Knew it, yes," Doc said. "But believed it, I'm not sure. I was never convinced you really believed me."

      "Because I'm an unlovable monster, you fool," Natasha said. "Do you know how difficult it is to cultivate an armor of unlovable traits? It takes centuries to become a legitimate monster."

      "But you were my friend," Doc said.

      Natasha stood up, strolled over to the window, watched the clouds continue to roll by aimlessly.

      "I never tried to kill you there, in your timeline?"

      "No," Doc said.

      "I wasn't afraid to kill?"

      "Not remotely," Doc said. "You terrified me with your ability to destroy things without remorse. But you always left me standing."

      "Why would I destroy you?" Natasha said. "You were the only living being who actually cared about me. Why would I kill the one person who cared if I lived or died?"

      Doc joined her by the window. Below them, some European village or another rolled by, blissfully unaware of the castle in the sky hovering above them. The place looked untouched by the war, untouched by time.

      "Why wouldn't I have told you?" Doc wondered out loud.

      "One sentence," Natasha said. "That's how delicate these worlds are. One sentence can change an entire reality."

      "It might not have been that one sentence."

      "For me it was," the Lady said. "For me this world hinged on one sentence. And clearly it did for you as well. For us, our worlds divided because of one thing you said to me, just one time."

      "They say that the past can't be changed," Doc said. "We can't fix things. But can only splinter off another timeline."

      "I know."

      "So this place will always exist. Even if we save it, even if we stop the people who want to destroy this timeline, all we'll really do is create one more branch, a branch where things turn out a little better."

      "While the other branch withers and dies," Natasha said. "Time is more powerful than all of us."

      "It is."

      "You'll still try, though?" Natasha said.

      "It's why we're here," Doc said. "And it's all we've ever done. We try."

      "Well," the lady said, putting a hand lightly on Doc's shoulder. "You'll meet no resistance from me. I'm done toying with this world."

      Doc listened to the silence again, the vast and empty echoes of Natasha's castle.

      "Thank you," he said, pausing. "Why did you build this place, Natasha?"

      She placed her free hand against the windowpane.