Sharper Than A Serpent's Tooth Part 10

"Now you're just boring me, Henry."

"Really? Try this."

Walker raised the gun and shot Lilith in the face. The paint capsule hit her right between the eyes. Paint exploded all over her shocked face, a thick evil-smelling purple slime liberally spiked with Alex's holy water. Lilith actually fell back a pace, spitting and sputtering and clawing frantically at her face with both hands. Walker chuckled nastily, turned, and ran. White-hot with rage, Lilith chased after him. I have to give it to Walker; I'd never seen him move so fast in his life. He was already down the street and round the corner before Lilith was even up to speed. I don't think she was used to having to exert herself physically. Walker ran, and Lilith followed, and her somewhat confused army brought up the rear.

Walker paused outside the front door of a house that looked no different from all the others around it, then he darted inside, leaving the door that wasn't a door standing open. Lilith charged through the opening a few moments later, and it slammed shut after her. The army stumbled to a halt outside. One of the leaders tried the door, but it wouldn't open. One of Lilith's children pushed forward, placed an oversized hand on the door and pushed, then cried out in shock and pain as the door tried to eat his hand. The front ranks of the army looked at each other, and decided to stay where they were until Lilith emerged from the house to give them orders.

The scene in the scrying pool changed to show me a rear view of the house that wasn't a house, as Walker came running full pelt out the back door. He ran through the overgrown garden to the back gate, then leaned on it for a while, breathing heavily. He looked back at the house, shuddered once, and immediately regained his composure. The back wall of the house seemed to heave, and swell, twisting black veins standing out suddenly in sharp relief in the fake brickwork. First the wall, then the whole structure of the house began to shake and shudder. Black and purple splotches of rot and decay appeared, and the two windows ran away like pus. Holes like ragged wounds opened up all over the sloping roof, and the back door slumped, running away in streams of liquid foulness. The house hadn't stood a chance against Lilith. She'd barely been in it a few moments, and already it was dead and rotting.

Maybe he shouldn't have lobotomized it, after all.

"d.a.m.n," said Walker, quite succinctly. He produced a Strangefellows Membership Card from his pocket, pressed his thumb against the embossed surface, said the activating Word, and was gone, teleported back to the relative safety of the bar. I shut off the scene in the pool. I didn't want to see Lilith's rage when she emerged from the trap Walker had set for her. I was actually a little jealous that Alex had given Walker one of his Cards. They were supposed to be reserved for close friends and allies. I was also just a bit concerned about what Walker might do with the Card, in the future. I really didn't like the idea of his being able to just drop in at the bar, whenever he felt like it.

Of course, that a.s.sumed any of us had a future...

The scrying pool was sobbing quietly to itself, but I made it show me one last vision-what Lilith did next.

Raging mad at being mocked and outmanoeuvred by Walker, Lilith transported herself and all her great army straight to the Necropolis. The main building was barricaded, boarded up, and rendered positively indistinct behind a dozen layers of magical defences, but Lilith ignored them. She tore the air apart with her bare hands, breaking all the barriers set between this world and that of the Necropolis's private cemetery. Nothing was hidden from her, and nothing was safe. The final barrier screamed as it went down, and the cobbled street in this world split from end to end. Through the ragged tear Lilith had made in reality, the grim and grey world of the Necropolis graveyard could clearly be seen. Long streamers of fog drifted out. Lilith gestured sharply for her followers to stay put and stalked forward into the private cemetery.

The vision followed her. The graveyard looked just as cold and depressing as I remembered it, with row upon row of graves and tombstones stretching away to the distant horizon. Lilith looked around her and sniffed contemptuously. The Caretaker reared its earthy head to observe her, took one look, and sank back into the ground again, diving for deep cover. It wanted nothing to do with her. It knew when it was outmatched.

Lilith walked among the graves, glaring about her, and finally stopped and stamped her bare foot impatiently. When she spoke, her voice cracked like a whip on the still and silent air.

"You can all stop lying around, right now! I want every single one of you up and out of those graves, and standing here before me! Why should you lie quietly, when there is work you could be doing for me? Up, now! And the Devil help anyone who dares to keep me waiting!"

She snapped her colourless fingers, and immediately every grave and mausoleum gave up its occupant. They stood in endless rows, in the good suits and gowns they'd been buried in, looking around them in a confused sort of way. Even I was shocked, and not a little impressed. There were major spells defending the private graveyard, but to a Power like Lilith, Life and Death were very similar states.

It had to be said, the returned from the dead didn't look at all happy about their new condition. They'd paid good money in advance, precisely to avoid being disturbed from their rest like this. But they still had enough sense not to argue with Lilith. Even those who had been major players in their day knew better than to cross the ancient and terrible Power standing before them.

"These are your orders," she said crisply. "I want all of you out of here, and back in the Nightside. Snip, snap, no dawdling. Once back in your home territory, you are to kill every living thing you see and destroy everything in your path. No exceptions. Any questions?"

One man raised his hand. Lilith snapped her fingers again, and the reanimated man exploded into a thousand twitching pieces.

"Any more questions?" said Lilith. "I just love answering questions."

There were no more questions. Some of the returned even stuck their hands deep into their pockets so there wouldn't be any unfortunate misunderstandings. Lilith smiled coldly and led her new army back into the Nightside. The newly revived dead didn't object, being ready to do whatever was required of them, as long as they could go back to the comfort of their graves afterwards. Anything for a little quiet resting in peace. Still, some of them did feel the need to discuss their new condition, in guarded whispers and mutters.

"She said kill everyone," said one voice. "Does that mean we're supposed to eat their brains?"

"No, I think that's only in the movies, darling."

"Oh. I think I'd quite like to try eating some brains, actually."

"Now that's just gross," said a third voice.

"Do we have to eat them raw, sweetie; or are we allowed to add condiments?"

"I think it's probably a matter of personal taste, dear."

The ranks of the returned dead streamed through the streets of the Nightside, falling upon every living thing they encountered. Some of them with more enthusiasm than others, but all of them bound to Lilith's will. They couldn't be hurt or stopped, and their sheer numbers overwhelmed any and all defences. A h.e.l.l of a lot of people had died in the Nightside, down the centuries. Walker sent a small army, under Sandra Chance, of his best people to try and contain the returned dead, but they couldn't be everywhere at once.

Many people were distressed to find themselves fighting off deceased friends and relatives, now intent on killing those who had once been closest to them. There were tears and screams, sometimes on both sides, but the reanimated dead did what they had to, and so, eventually, did the living. The risen dead were burned, blasted, and dismembered, but still they pressed forward. Walker's barricades were soon overrun, and the defenders forced to run for their lives. Walker was forced to order a general retreat, just so he could control it. He ordered the demolition of whole areas, to seal off the better defended sections from those already fallen. There was fighting everywhere now, and fires wide as city blocks raged fiercely, unconfined.

There were those who still had the guts to fight. The Demonz street gang, minor demons who claimed to be political refugees from h.e.l.l, poured up out of their nightclub the Pit to defend their territory. Eight feet tall, with curling horns on their brows and cloven hoofs, scarlet as sin and twice as nasty. The reanimated dead stopped in their tracks. They knew real demons when they saw them. Lilith just laughed at the Demonz, said Children shouldn't stray so far from home, snapped her pale fingers, and sent all the Demonz back to h.e.l.l again.

After that, she went to Time Tower Square, deserted but almost untouched by the chaos all around. Lilith struck a mocking pose before the blocky stone structure that was the Tower, and called loudly for Old Father Time to come out and face her. She had work for him. Minutes pa.s.sed, and Lilith snarled and stamped her feet as she realised Old Father Time wasn't coming out. She ordered her offspring to tear the Tower apart, and drag Old Father Time from the ruins to face her displeasure. But, as I knew to my cost, the Tower was seriously defended. The first few Beings to touch the Tower with bad intent just disappeared, blown out of existence like the flame of a candle. Other, greater Powers advanced on the Tower. A terrible stone Eye opened in the wall facing them, and the Powers froze in the glare of that awful regard. The life seeped out of them, and left behind only a handful of ugly stone statues, in awkward poses. The great stone Eye slowly closed again.

Lilith cried out a single angry Word, and the whole stone structure blew apart, until there was nothing left of the Time Tower save a pile of smoking rubble. Lilith glared at what she'd achieved, shaking with effort and reaction, while her army watched carefully to see what would happen next. In the end, it was clear that Old Father Time was either dead or trapped. Either way, he wouldn't be coming out to obey Lilith's wishes, so she spat and cursed, turned on her heel and led her army on to other ventures.

And that brought me up to date. The scrying pool had gone cloudy with shock and trauma, and I left it sobbing quietly to itself. The shop's owner trailed behind me as I left his emporium, complaining bitterly and wringing his hands over what I'd done to his best merchandise. I told him again to send the bill to Walker.

Outside the shop, it was relatively quiet. The fires had run out of things to burn, and the survivors were keeping their heads down and quietly licking their wounds. I walked slowly through deserted streets, and no-one bothered me. Just as well. I had some thinking to do. Why had Lilith been so determined to control Old Father Time? Could there be something about Time travel, or perhaps Time itself, that would be a danger to Lilith's plans? I smiled mirthlessly. It beat the h.e.l.l out of me. I needed advice and information, which meant... I needed to talk to Walker.

I pulled my Strangefellows Membership Card from my pocket, activated it, and called for Walker. After making me wait a little while, to keep me respectful, Walker's face looked out of the Card at me. He looked calm and poised and completely confident. He might have got away with it, if he hadn't also looked like h.e.l.l.

"Taylor!" he said brightly. "Back at last, after your extended vacation? I should have known you'd turn up for the main event. I didn't know these Cards could be used for communication."

So Alex didn't tell you everything, I thought, a little smugly. "I'm back," I said. "We need to talk."

"Couldn't agree more, old chap," said Walker. "I need to know everything you know."

"We don't have that much time," I said. I never could resist a good cheap shot. "Right now, we need to talk to the Authorities. Get their resources behind us. They need to hear what I have to tell them. I need you to set up a meeting."

"I've been trying to contact them ever since this whole mess started," said Walker, just a little tartly. "No-one's returning my calls."

"Call them again," I said. "Drop my name, and set up a meet. We need to do this in person. They'll talk to Lilith's son."

"Yes," said Walker. "Yes, they just might. Very well, I'll arrange a face-to-face, at the Londinium Club."

"Of course," I said. "Where else?"

Nine.

Thrown to the Wolves

I found an undead Harley Davidson lurking in an alleyway, and persuaded it to give me a lift to the Londinium Club, in return for squeezing the essential juices out of several nearby corpses into the undead machine's fuel tank. I swear other people don't have days like this. The motorcycle carried me smoothly through the Nightside, weaving in and out of crashed and overturned vehicles littering the abandoned road. The air rushing into my face was hot and dry, thick with drifting smoke and ashes. It stank of burned meat. Even above the roar of the bike, I could still hear distant screams. Riding through the deserted streets, lit by the intermittent glow of burning buildings rather than the sleazy flush of hot neon, reminded me uncomfortably of the devastated future Nightside that was coming. A future coming true in front of my eyes, despite everything I did to try and stop it. found an undead Harley Davidson lurking in an alleyway, and persuaded it to give me a lift to the Londinium Club, in return for squeezing the essential juices out of several nearby corpses into the undead machine's fuel tank. I swear other people don't have days like this. The motorcycle carried me smoothly through the Nightside, weaving in and out of crashed and overturned vehicles littering the abandoned road. The air rushing into my face was hot and dry, thick with drifting smoke and ashes. It stank of burned meat. Even above the roar of the bike, I could still hear distant screams. Riding through the deserted streets, lit by the intermittent glow of burning buildings rather than the sleazy flush of hot neon, reminded me uncomfortably of the devastated future Nightside that was coming. A future coming true in front of my eyes, despite everything I did to try and stop it.

You're trying to steer again, said the Harley. Don't. I know what I'm doing.

"Then I envy you," I said. "Really. You have no idea."

That's right; condescend to me, just because I'm undead. You wait until the mystical Vampire Lords of the Twenty-seventh Dimension descend in their crimson flying saucers to make me Grand High Overlord of the Nightside... Oh. d.a.m.n. I said that out loud, didn't I? Sorry. I've not been taking my medication, lately.

"It's all right," I said. "We've all got a lot on our minds at the moment."

The Harley mournfully sang Meatloaf's "Bat out of h.e.l.l" as we cruised through the deserted streets. There were hardly any people around now. They were either hiding, or evacuated, or dead. There were bodies everywhere, and sometimes only parts of bodies. I saw piled-up severed heads, and dozens of severed hands laid out in strange patterns. Something had strung a web of knotted human entrails between a series of lamp-posts. I didn't raise my Sight. I didn't want to understand. I didn't want to see all the new ghosts.

The motorcycle dropped me off outside the Londinium Club, then disappeared into the night at speed. It thought there was still somewhere safe to go, and I didn't have the heart to disillusion it. I wasn't blessed with the same delusion. I knew better. Walker was already waiting for me, of course. He stood at the foot of the Club's steps, looking sadly down at the dead body of the Doorman. The Londinium's most faithful servant lay sprawled across the steps, before the entrance he'd guarded for so many centuries. Something had ripped the Doorman's head off and impaled it on the spiked railings. The expression on the face was more surprised than anything.

"He was supposed to be immortal," observed Walker. "I didn't think anything could kill him."

"Now that Lilith's back, all bets are off," I said. "It is a pity."

Walker gave me a hard look. "You know very well you couldn't stand the man, Taylor."

"I gave him a rose once," I said.

Walker sniffed, unconvinced, and led the way up the steps to what was left of the Londinium. The oldest Gentleman's Club in the Nightside had seen better days. The magnificent facade was cracked and holed, smoke-blackened and fire-damaged. It looked like the outer wall of a city that had finally fallen to its besiegers. The huge single door had been burst inwards, forced off its hinges. The great slab of ancient wood lay toppled on the floor of the lobby, torn and gouged with deep claw marks. The once-elegant lobby had been thoroughly trashed and befouled. The statues had been shattered and the paintings defaced. The delicately veined marble pillars were cracked and broken, and the unknown Michelangelo painting that covered the entire ceiling was now half-hidden behind smoke stains and sprayed arterial blood.

Bodies littered the wide floor, left to lie where they had fallen. Many were mutilated, or half-eaten. Most of them looked to have been unarmed. Important men and servants lay together, probably killed fighting back-to-back, equal at last in death.

"Something got here before us," I said, because I had to say something. "You think any of the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are still around?"

"No," said Walker, kneeling beside one of the bodies. "The flesh is cold, the blood-stains are dry. Whatever happened here, we missed it." He looked at the dead man's face for a long moment, frowning slightly.

"Did you know him?" I asked.

"I knew all of them," he said, rising to his feet again. "Some were very good, some were very bad, and none of them deserved to die like this."

He stalked across the lobby, his back very straight, stepping carefully round the scattered bodies. I followed him, my shoulders tense with the antic.i.p.ation of unseen watching eyes. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to trash the Nightside's most visible symbol of power and authority. Walker finally came to a halt facing the right-hand wall, and solemnly considered a part of it that looked no different from any other part. I stood beside him, looking hard for any sign of a concealed door or panel, but I couldn't see anything. And I'm usually really good at spotting things like that. Walker fished in his waistcoat pocket for a long moment, but when he finally brought his hand out, it was empty. He held the empty hand up before me, the fingers pinched together as though holding something.

"This," he said, "is a key that isn't a key, that will open a door that isn't a door, to a room that isn't always there."

I considered his empty hand. "Either the strain is finally getting to you, or you're being cryptic again. This secret room... it's not by any chance going to try to eat me, is it?"

He smiled briefly. "It's a real key. But invisible. Feel it."

He put something I couldn't see into my hand. It felt cold and metallic. "Okay," I said. "That's creepy. If the door is as invisible as the key, how are we going to find it?"

"Because it isn't invisible to me," Walker said airily, taking the key back again. "I serve the Authorities, so I get to see everything I need to see."

"Show-off," I said, and he smiled briefly again.

He thrust the key only he could see into the lock only he could see, and part of the wall before us disappeared. I was staring so hard by now that my eyes were beginning to hurt. Walker strolled into the newly revealed room before us with just a hint of smugness, and I sighed and followed him in. It figured that the Authorities would have their very own special room to hold their meetings in, exclusive even from other members of the Nightside's most exclusive Gentleman's Club.

"The Authorities don't agree to meet with just anyone," Walker murmured. "You should feel honoured."

"Oh, I do," I said. "Really. You have no idea."

Walker actually winced. "Somehow, I know this isn't going to go well."

The wall reappeared behind us, sealing us in, and the room abruptly snapped into focus. It was protected by very powerful magics. I could feel them, crawling on my skin like living static. The room itself was something of a cliche, the very essence of a private room in a Gentleman's Club. Oversized but no doubt extremely comfortable chairs, rich furnishings, and splendid decorations. Far more splendid, indeed, than the expensively tanned, personally trained but still sloppy, overdressed men sitting slumped in their big chairs, with their big drinks and their big cigars. I took my time looking them over, the ten powerful men who ran the Nightside, inasmuch as anyone did. You wouldn't know their names. You've never seen their faces in the glossies. These men were above that. They all had the same casual arrogance of people used to getting what they wanted when they wanted it. Somehow, I just knew we weren't going to get along.

Walker introduced me to the Authorities, then moved aside to stand leaning against the William Morris wallpaper, his arms folded, as though to indicate he'd done all that could reasonably be expected of him. Maybe he simply wanted to be out of the line of fire, for when everything inevitably went wrong. And though he must have had many questions of his own for his absentee masters, he seemed content to leave the lead to me. For the moment, at least.

"So," I said finally, "you're the grey men, the businessmen, the faceless men who only ever operate behind the scenes. Somehow, I always thought you'd be... bigger. Talk to me, Authorities. Tell me what I need to know. While there's still time."

"I am Harper, and I speak for us all," said the man nearest me. His face was far too old for his jet-black hair, and his waistcoat strained over a bulging stomach. It was covered with cigar ash that he couldn't be bothered to brush away. Presumably he had someone to do that for him, in his own world. He stared coldly at me with piggy, deep-set eyes. "Our ancestors made their fortunes operating in the Nightside of Roman times, during their occupation. Our families have spent generations building on those fortunes. We own all the businesses here, at one remove or another. There's nothing that happens that we don't take our cut. The Nightside belongs to us."

"Not for much longer," I said. "If Lilith has her way. This isn't just a corporate take-over she'd proposing, she plans to kill us all. Or hasn't that penetrated your thick skulls yet?"

My voice must have got a little sharp, because that was when the Authorities' bodyguards decided to make themselves known to me. They manifested abruptly, one on each side of the room, and I studied them warily. Two basically humanoid forms, large and overpowering, one made of pure light, one of pure darkness. It would be hard to say which was more unpleasant to the eye. They were presences rather than physical forms, and I could feel power radiating off them. It was like standing in front of a furnace when someone unexpectedly opened the door.

"They used to be angels," said Harper, with more than a hint of smugness. "From Above, and Below. Now they work for us."

"How are the mighty fallen," I said, just to be saying something. Never let the other side know when you've been seriously impressed. "I suppose that's why they don't have wings any more. Or halos."

"You cannot conceive how much we have lost," said the figure of light, its voice like cracking ice floes.

"But we have also gained much," said the figure of darkness, in a voice like a burning orphanage. "We are here because we developed... appet.i.tes. Tastes for things that can only be found in the material world. Our new masters... indulge us."

"We take our comforts here," said the light. "To our eternal shame."

"To our endless satisfaction," said the dark.

"But why serve the Authorities?" I said. "Even as diminished as you are, you must know they're not worthy of you."

"We have to serve someone," said the light.

"It's in our nature," said the dark.

"Enough," said Harper, and immediately both figures fell silent. Harper glared at me, and I glared right back. He raised his voice a little, to convince both of us who was really in charge here. "Normally, we run the Nightside from outside. We live in London proper, in the sane world. We're only here now because Walker summoned us with your name. What do you want with us, John Taylor?"

"Answers, to start with," I said, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "Why haven't you sent your armies to support Walker? Don't you know how bad things are here?"

"We know," said Harper. "But what help could we send that could hope to stand against Lilith and her followers? We're not in the business of throwing good lives away after bad."