Seasons of War, page 16
“They might … they might try to kill me?”
“Maybe, so be extra—”
“You think they’ve poisoned my burger?”
Temper frowned. “The burger you’ve just ordered? No, Adam, I don’t.”
“I have to leave. Oh, jeez, I have to leave.”
“They wouldn’t be trying to kill you yet, Adam. You haven’t done—”
But he was gone, sprinting from the café.
On their ninety-fourth day in the Leibniz Universe, they reached Tahil na Sin.
Careful not to dislodge any loose stones and send them tumbling down the rocky hill they were climbing, Valkyrie crawled on her belly until she was between Tanith and Dexter, and looked out over the city.
The midday sun gleamed off metal and glass, off white roofs and towers. From where she lay, Valkyrie could make out squares and parks and wide streets. There was activity on those streets, in those squares and parks. People. Lots of them.
Like other magical cities, Tahil na Sin was protected by a vast wall. Poles of twisted metal rose at regular intervals around the top of it, generating a shimmering dome of energy that made it look like it was one giant snow globe.
Outside the wall were what must have been hundreds of thousands of draugar. They pressed up against it, and against the gates, constantly moving. Above the energy shield, out of range of the sorcerers on the walls, Necromancers hovered in the air, held aloft by vast columns of darkness. The bats didn’t bother them.
“So how do we get in?” Valkyrie asked. “We can’t walk in, can’t fly in …”
“I might know of a way,” said Serpine, from behind them.
They crawled backwards a bit, then turned to him. He stood there, smiling, and didn’t say anything further.
Tanith growled. “Continue.”
“A few centuries ago,” Serpine said, “I was killing this man, I can’t remember his name, but he was tall, and he had a yellow tongue. Whenever he screamed, I was treated to a wonderful view of the inside of his mouth. Whether this was due to some underlying medical condition or merely residue from what he’d been eating before I’d caught up to him, I’m afraid I can’t begin to speculate. There was very little about him that sticks in the memory, to be honest, but his height and his tongue colour certainly do, as well as what he had to say. He told me a story, amid all the screaming and the begging and the feeble attempts at bargaining, about Tahil na Sin and the secret tunnel that runs underground. All cities of this type have their secrets, their hidden entrances and whatnot, but according to my yellow-tongued friend, who was hastening towards his demise and couldn’t really afford not to be telling the truth, this tunnel in particular stretched for miles. At that point, in between the tears and the gradual realisation that death was inevitable if I did not immediately stop what I was doing, he got very specific as to the direction of the tunnel and, indeed, where it emerged.”
“It is staggering,” Skulduggery said, “how much of that we didn’t need to hear. If you know where this tunnel begins, take us there.”
Serpine clapped his hands together. “I would be delighted!”
They rode the horses eastwards, galloping by the small packs of draugar that were on their way to join the horde around the city. Valkyrie found herself riding beside Serpine.
“I have to admit,” he said, speaking loudly over the low thunder of hooves, “I think the group’s attitude towards me is warming.”
“That so?” Valkyrie responded. The galloping was shaking her bladder.
“I think they’re starting to like me. Are you starting to like me?”
“Not since you stabbed that guy in the throat.”
“But up until that point?”
Valkyrie shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
He seemed pleased with that.
They slowed to a trot, then a walk, and Serpine led them off the trail and they slipped from the saddle, tied the horses to a few skinny trees, and went down a small hill on foot.
“The tunnel entrance is somewhere around here,” Serpine said. “My yellow-tongued friend—” He suddenly clicked his fingers. “Askant! That was his name! Something Askant! Phillip Askant, maybe? I’m not sure. That doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t matter either way, but … what was it? Oh, I don’t know. Anyway, Mr Askant, whatever his first name was, but now that I’ve said it out loud, I don’t think it was Phillip, and now I’m not even sure it was Askant. I may be thinking of somebody else. So, my yellow-tongued friend, whose name has probably passed into the wind, sadly died before he could tell me where the entrance was or how to open it. But we have God-Killer weapons, do we not? There is no wall or door or rock that can withstand the Sceptre of the Ancients.”
“So you expect me to just start blasting?” Valkyrie asked.
“Why not?” Serpine responded. “You’ll find it eventually.”
Skulduggery crouched ahead of them. “Found it,” he said. There were tracks in the dried mud leading to, or coming from, a wall of rock. “A cart and horses,” he said, breaking off a handful of dirt and letting it crumble through his fingers. “Leading away, no more than two days ago. There are older tracks here, as well, heading in.”
“I’m going for a pee,” Valkyrie announced, and headed off while the others discussed what their next move should be.
She found a nice quiet spot and unzipped her suit, and gradually became aware of a creak and a rattle and the clip-clop of walking horses. When she was finished, she stood and zipped up, and heard a cry of alarm, and a curse. Then Skulduggery’s voice and sounds of mild exertion.
After that, it all went calm again.
Valkyrie took a stroll. Crested another hill.
A cart, laden with crates and bulging sacks, pulled by two old horses and ridden by two bearded men. A few draugar corpses littered the trail they’d been taking. Skulduggery, wearing his façade, and the rest of the Dead Men, stood there, wiping gore off their weapons. Serpine remained on his horse.
“Obliged for the help, friend,” said the smaller bearded man. “Mulct’s the name. The eejit over there is Hapathy.”
“We could have handled it,” Hapathy grumbled.
Mulct scowled at him. His accent was a weird cross between Irish and German. “I’m not saying we couldn’t have handled it. Did you hear those words spilling from my lips? I’d wager you didn’t, because no such words did any such thing. I was merely thanking these people for the assistance they rendered – assistance that saved you or me from having to stir ourselves from this cart.”
Hapathy grunted, and spat over the side.
“Are you from here, then?” Skulduggery asked.
“From Tahil na Sin? Aye, we are.” Mulct pushed his hat back on his head. “Well, I am. Hapathy is what you might call a blow-in. He wasn’t born here, but now he won’t leave. Where do you good people hail from?”
“All over,” said Skulduggery. “We were across the water when all this started.”
“To be honest,” Valkyrie said, joining them, “we’re not entirely sure what’s been happening here.”
Mulct barked out a laugh. “What’s been happening, lass? This has been happening! The end of the world, that’s been happening!”
“How did it start?”
Mulct shook his head. “I don’t really know where to begin, to be truthful. The bloody draugar. They started showing up, attacking people. Biting them. I knew instantly, of course. I said to myself, this isn’t normal behaviour from the draugar.”
“No, you didn’t,” said Hapathy.
“You don’t know what I said to myself!”
“I know what you said to me. You dismissed it, so you did.”
“I did not!”
“Everyone says they knew something was different,” Hapathy sneered, “but no one had a notion. You yourself said what do you care what a bunch of zombies get up to? I said they’re not zombies, they’re draugar, and you said there’s no bloody difference, and I said there’s a big bloody difference, and you said—”
“That’s no way to tell a story!” Mulct interrupted. “You said, I said, you said, I said. What’s the purpose of that? Anyone can relate to others what people may or may not have said, but there’s more to telling a story than the words used. You got to build a narrative, you ignorant fool. You got to draw the audience in.”
Hapathy shook his head, and spat once more over the side.
Mulct took that as a victory, and went back to telling the tale. “When it started, most people, it’s true, didn’t give it the attention the situation obviously warranted. We’ve had draugar attacks before, of course, and we’ve had little zombie infections, but Mevolent has always ordered them put down before the problem grew to an unmanageable size. And no one especially cared about a few mortals getting bitten. Let them stumble about in the filth, moaning and groaning and trying to eat each other. They’re mortals. It’s what they do!”
Mulct laughed at that, and didn’t notice the stony-faced silence from those around him.
“But, when Mevolent sent out a few mages to get rid of the problem, the mages didn’t come back. So he sent out more. And then more.”
“Stupid,” muttered Hapathy.
“You shut your mouth,” Mulct glowered.
“It was stupid and there’s no denying it,” Hapathy snapped back. “The moment the first lot of mages didn’t return, he should have sent out an army. But he was too busy building his giant portals, too busy with his invasion. We’re in this mess today because of it.”
“Portals?” Skulduggery interrupted.
“Oh, yes. For invading the other world. He’s been building them for months. Massive things, so they are, all three of them. I heard we’ll be able to march our army through in a matter of minutes.”
“Would you say that to him, would you? That he’s stupid?” said Mulct.
“I would.”
Mulct laughed. “Oh, really? So when we join our forces with Mevolent’s, and we’re all there waiting to step into this parallel world, you’ll walk up to him, will you? Walk up to him and tap him on the shoulder – bearing in mind that he’s eight foot tall and that you wouldn’t even be able to reach his shoulder – and you’ll say to him, ‘Oh, by the way, my lord, I just thought I’d let you know that all this – the vast army of the dead, the decimation of every country on the planet, the fact that we have to evacuate or be torn apart by things no better than bloody zombies – is entirely your fault.’ You’re going to say that to him, are you?”
“Just give me the chance and I will.”
“You’re a liar.”
“You’re a liar!”
“You’re more a liar because you’re lying to yourself! You’d no more challenge Mevolent than a fieldmouse would challenge a … a …”
“A what?” Hapathy sneered. “Can’t think of anything, can you?”
“A lion!” Mulct roared. “A fieldmouse would challenge a lion!”
Hapathy sniggered.
Valkyrie waited a few moments while Mulct regained his composure. “So Mevolent isn’t here, then?”
“In Tahil na Sin? Ha! He’d never deign to set foot in this place!”
“So where is he?”
Mulct frowned at her. “Now, why are you so interested in our Lord and Master, young lady?”
“We have to report back to him,” Skulduggery said.
“You … you work for Mevolent?”
“He gives us our orders, yes.”
Mulct and Hapathy exchanged terrified glances.
“I didn’t mean anything disrespectful from my mutterings,” Hapathy said, going pale.
“Me neither,” said Mulct. “Although, to be fair, it wasn’t me issuing the disrespectful mutters.”
“You shut your mouth,” Hapathy whispered.
“You’re not in any trouble,” Skulduggery told them. “Mevolent sent us off on a mission, and then the world turned into a hunting ground while we were gone. All we want to do is deliver our captive.”
“Captive?”
Skulduggery gestured to Serpine. “This here is Nefarian Serpine. Mevolent wants the privilege of killing this gentleman himself.”
Mulct frowned. “He’s not wearing shackles.”
“Because we don’t view him as a credible threat. And also …” Skulduggery held up the pebble and pressed it, and Serpine slumped in his saddle, then fell off the horse, and everybody laughed.
“That’s funny, that is,” said Mulct, chuckling. “But I’m afraid you’re out of luck. Mevolent left his Dublin-Within-The-Wall weeks ago, for Tahil na Kurge.”
Valkyrie groaned inwardly. More walking. More travelling. More time away from home.
“Then it’s on to Tahil na Kurge for us,” said Skulduggery.
“You’ll never get there without an army,” Mulct said. “Too many draugar in the way. Want my advice? Go with us. We’re preparing, here – forging weapons, assembling the troops. We’ll be heading out in a matter of weeks, most likely. I’m sure you can tag along – Governor Erato is always looking for folk who know how to fight.”
At the mention of Governor Erato, Serpine moaned.
“You won’t be teleporting?” Saracen asked.
“Only a few Teleporters left,” said Hapathy, “and they’re not being risked on trifling matters like the transport of tens of thousands of people. No, we’ll be heading over the old-fashioned way – by road.”
“In that case,” Skulduggery said, “I think we’ll take you up on your kind offer.”
“Look at us,” Mulct said, grinning. “Send us out for food and supplies, and we come back with warriors. You can’t say Mulct and Hapathy don’t deliver value for money.”
The tunnel into the city was long and cold, and the only light came from the lamp at the end of the long pole that Hapathy dangled in front of the horses. Valkyrie and the others rode their horses behind the cart, having buried their modern weaponry at the base of the hill before they entered. Even in the gloom, Valkyrie could see Serpine scowling beside her.
“We were at Dublin-Within-The-Wall before we came here,” Skulduggery said as they rode. “Do you know what happened?”
“The dead had the place surrounded,” said Mulct, his expression sombre in the lamplight. “We weren’t there, but we’ve talked to survivors. The draugar were at the walls, just like they are here. Necromancers, too. Infected, but … different. Seemed to be able to command the dead. Now, on this aspect, there are two schools of thinking. The first is that the Necromancers are behind it all, and they infected themselves deliberately so as to lead the draugar. The second is that the Necromancers went to stop them, thinking their death magic could hold sway over these rotten things, and discovered too late that it wasn’t enough.”
“How long before the city was evacuated?” Saracen asked.
Mulct shook his head. “No one was evacuated. They couldn’t get through the draugar.”
“But Teleporters …”
“Most of ’em are dead,” said Hapathy. Any trace of merriment had evaporated. “They were the first ones the Necromancers went after, before we knew to keep them out. Teleporters and Shunters.”
“Cutting off the escape routes,” Skulduggery said.
Mulct nodded. “Mevolent had been training them up – Shunters especially – over the last few years. All part of his big plan.”
“Obsession,” Hapathy muttered.
“All right then, obsession. You happy? All part of Mevolent’s obsession to start conquering worlds. He had this idea of all these Shunters opening all these portals and his army just marching through. One world after another, falling before us.”
Skulduggery tilted his head. “Does he have any Shunters left?”
“A few. A handful. I don’t know how many. Some say ten. Some say half that. He’s protecting them now. It’s their power he’ll be using to open those three giant portals of his, so he has them guarded at all times.”
“What happened at Dublin-Within-The-Wall?”
Mulct gave a long, drawn-out sigh. “The city was surrounded. The Necromancers can do this thing, kind of like teleporting, except only over short distances? Shadow-walking, they call it. They’d shadow-walk into the city, take some draugar with them and set them loose, then they’d stand back and watch the chaos. It takes a while, weeks, to seal off a city of that size against shadow-walking. All those sigils they need to carve. They didn’t quite manage it in time.”
“The draugar swept over them,” Hapathy said. “I spoke to this woman – she’d lost her family. All of them. She left the house, went to get water from the well, she told me. She was coming back and she said there was a swarm. A swarm of them, the draugar, running through the streets towards her. She saw her husband, one of her children. Dead but running.”
Mulct shook his head. “Dublin-Within-The-Wall was a city of sorcerers, and now those sorcerers have joined the mortals, and they’re all shuffling around the walls of our city, just over that hill. Death makes equals of us all, isn’t that what they say?”
When they finally emerged into the city, they’d been in darkness a long time, and their mood was darker. Everyone except Skulduggery had to blink away the sunlight. The energy dome seemed to alter the light passing through it, making it harsher somehow. Valkyrie had to resist the urge to take out her sunglasses or pull down her mask. Either one would draw unwanted attention.
The further they moved through Tahil na Sin, the more apparent it became that the city had not been built for this surge in population. The streets, wide enough for three carts to fit through side by side, weren’t wide enough for this number of people, who brushed up so close to the cart Mulct was driving that the wheels rolled over feet and left a trail of howling pedestrians in their wake.
Most of the people lugged bags of some description, hauling their worldly possessions with them in case they got the call to evacuate. Valkyrie hadn’t been on many passenger planes back home – one of the advantages of having a Teleporter as an ex – but she’d listened to enough flight attendants to know that, in case of emergency, you should really leave all bags where they are and just get the hell out. Looking around, she didn’t like these people’s chances of outrunning a draugr with a suitcase in either hand.
