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Fractures Page 10
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“The kobolds are pretty good metal smiths,” I said. “I could ask them to take a look.”
Galahad considered this. “That may not be a bad idea, Vincent. But after this Omnicron business is over. In the meantime, I’m glad I ran into you. Come this way, please.” Galahad led me to the conference room, where I found Jake already seated at the table. “This Omnicron mission that you have been tapped for concerns me, and I intend to take every precaution to ensure you both come back safely. I would be a poor leader if I did not extend the resources I have to you at this point. Therefore”—Galahad tapped on a keyboard and part of the wall slid away, revealing a large TV screen—“I will share what information I have access to regarding this mission.”
“Sounds like we know what’s going on, boss. Sakave’s coming and—”
“I was not speaking of Sakave, Vincent,” Galahad interrupted, but not unkindly. “Xavier is a bit of a contradiction in that he reveals information about you and Jake, yet nothing about himself or Croatoan. He does this to keep people off balance. It’s a tactic that I’m afraid is going to cost him someday. If your mission is to be successful, I believe you should know who and what you’re going into the swamp with.”
An image of Xavier appeared on the screen. “Corben Xavier has been with the Inquisitors for thirty years now. Unfortunately, most of his personnel file is restricted, even from me. As you have seen, he is brash, but he does get results. He is a brilliant tactician and a capable field operative. The Inquisitors have uncovered more plots with him at the helm than any of his predecessors.”
“So what’s he doing here?” I asked. “If he’s running the show so well, why get his hands dirty with us?”
“Xavier is getting on in years,” Galahad replied. “One of the biggest challenges to him has been finding someone to take over for him when he retires.” Galahad tapped the screen. An image of a young Indian woman was displayed. I knew her, Rachna Dabash. “After years of searching, Xavier finally found someone to groom as a successor,” Galahad said.
“Ah,” I said. “So let me guess, when I killed Dabash, Xavier wanted to lead this mission personally to keep an eye on me.”
“I believe so,” Galahad said.
You killed an inquisitor? Jake asked in my mind.
“It wasn’t intentional,” I said. “She’d been transformed into a living shadow by Ulysses Pendleton and was trying to kill me. I fought back, thinking she was Pendleton, and killed her.”
Galahad glanced at me. “Do you have a guilty conscience, Vincent, or was that statement prompted by something else?”
I hastily explained how I could telepathically communicate with Jake. The boss nodded. “Of course. I suppose I should’ve realized that sooner, but you rarely use telepathy. Regardless, I believe that yes, Xavier is here to watch you.”
“Then why involve me at all? If he doesn’t trust me…” I trailed off. “He doesn’t trust me. So this is a test. If I do well, and the mission succeeds, then he keeps watching me. If I don’t do well, and the mission fails, maybe I have an accident or something out in the field.”
“Normally, I would dismiss that as paranoia, Vincent, but I believe this time, you might be right. As such, I am warning you to be extra cautious.”
Well, today just kept getting better and better.
Galahad continued. “Most of the information around Croatoan is classified as well. He was captured by Caulborn agents nearly four hundred years ago, and spends long periods dormant, awakening only when strong extradimensional forces threaten this realm. I had hoped you both might share what you know of him. Between the two of you, you might be able to get a full picture.”
Jake began signing to Galahad as he telepathically communicated to me. I didn’t have much exposure to Croatoan back then. He raised some wights and used them to protect the church where Cynthia was resting. He seemed adamant that we stop Sakave, though.
“He used to be allied with Sakave, according to Xavier,” I said. “Do we know when that happened?”
Jake shook his head.
Galahad looked at me. “I understand how Jake knows Croatoan, Vincent. But how do you know him?”
I puffed out a breath. “Okay, I’ll give you the short version.” I told them about how I’d worked with a Chronicler named Wheatson to purify the time stream after a demon had corrupted it. Along the way, I’d been thrown back in time and encountered Croatoan on the deck of a ship.
“And why didn’t you report this?” Galahad asked.
“Jeez, boss, according to Wheatson, once I fixed time, those events never took place. Wheatson told me that only a handful of beings, like gods and dragons, would even know that anything had happened. For everyone else, time would continue on as if nothing had happened.”
The boss pinched the bridge of his nose. “That is one of the most unique reasons for not submitting paperwork that I have ever heard, Vincent.” He held up a hand and smiled as I opened my mouth. “And I believe you. But that brings up an interesting question. Namely, how is it that Croatoan remembers? I don’t believe he’s a dragon.”
“Can’t imagine he’s a god, either,” I said. “Wheatson didn’t mention any other creature types that…” I thought for a minute. “You know, that demon that was tampering with the time stream, Laplace’s demon, it knew about the changes being made to time. I wonder if that would hold true for all demons?”
“Perhaps you can ask this Chronicler if you see him again. In the meantime, is there anything else either of you can add?” Jake and I both shook our heads no. “In that case, I suggest you head home and get some sleep. I have a feeling we’re all going to need to be well rested to handle the challenges ahead. I don’t care how easy Xavier thinks it’s going to be. I want you sharp out there.”
“Boss,” I said, getting up from the table. “Where’s Croatoan now?”
“Xavier has him locked in the smaller conference room,” Galahad replied. “Behind half a dozen wards of his own design.”
“Is Xavier still around somewhere?”
“He’s made up a room for himself in one of the holding cells on the lower levels, and is likely working down there now. Said he’d rather stay here than in a hotel in case an emergency arose.”
“Don’t suppose we could lock him in there?”
Galahad smiled but didn’t reply. “Good night, Vincent,” he said, leaving the conference room.
Okay, I knew I needed to go and get some rest, but there was one last thing I wanted to take care of today. I walked down the hall to the smaller conference room and placed my hand on the door. The boss hadn’t been kidding; there were multiple wards protecting the door, everything from audible alarms to electrical shocks.
Nothing I couldn’t handle.
I Opened the door; one of the great things about my ability to Open things is that it doesn’t set off alarms or trigger wards; once I pass through them, they reset themselves. When Xavier checked on these later, they’d look as if they’d never been disturbed. Inside, I found Croatoan resting atop the conference room table. None of his lights were on; maybe he was… sleeping? In standby mode? What was the right word for what a sentient bowling ball was doing when it wasn’t awake?
I shook my head. Don’t get distracted Corinthos. Recently, I’d gained control of my Glimpse, so I could choose what I wanted to see. I focused on Croatoan. Show me Croatoan and Sakave, I thought.
Sakave sat on a high-backed chair, which itself was atop a small dais. I couldn’t call the chair a throne, because it looked like it belonged at some old lady’s dining room table. Nothing ornate or flashy, but the spirit of the thing was definitely throne-like. A wight approached, carrying Croatoan in both hands.
“I have learned,” Sakave said, “that you have previously conspired with forces of darkness to break the law.”
“I have not conspired against you, Sakave,” Croatoan replied. “I have done everything you asked.”
“Be that as it may, Croatoan, your past transgressions hint at treacheries you may commit. I cannot forgive this.”
“You cannot forgive things I did to others thousands of years ago? I have upheld my end of our bargain faithfully, Sakave. I trust you to do the same.”
Sakave’s lips twitched. “Trust. An interesting concept from one whose very essence is based in lies and deceit. You would have me believe you have changed? That you are truly repentant? I think not. You told me your spirit was unjustly imprisoned within that ball, cutting you off from your true power and form—”
“Which was absolutely true,” Croatoan cut in.
“—But,” Sakave continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “you were not truthful when you told me why you were imprisoned. You were not a scapegoat, not a sacrifice made by another to assuage justice. I have my own sources of information, Croatoan, and they say you were imprisoned because you attempted to overthrow your masters.”
Croatoan was silent, though lights blinked on the ball.
“I thought so,” Sakave said, nodding to himself. He gestured at the tiles in the floor. “Your wight is standing in a zone of truth, Croatoan. You cannot speak lies here. You were imprisoned because you attempted a coup, and I cannot help but believe that you would do the same thing to me. Our arrangement was that I would release you from that sphere if you helped me take other realms. However, in light of this revelation, I am forced to nullify our arrangement.”
“Sakave, please,” Croatoan pleaded. “I pledge my loyalty to you. I—”
“The loyalty of a liar is worthless,” Sakave said. Throughout the whole exchange, he hadn’t raised his voice. It sort of reminded me of how Galahad’s voice got calmer and calmer the angrier he got. “There are no second chances under my law. You will be destroyed.”
Two Urisk in their inky black suits stepped forward, pyrokinetic sparks flickering around their hands. A series of red lights flared around Croatoan, and then he vanished. The wight looked down at its empty hands, clearly surprised and confused. When it raised its head, the Urisk drove pyrokinetic lances through its eye sockets. The undead collapsed to the ground, and a nirrin servant hastened forward to remove the corpse.
“Harliss,” Sakave called. “Track him.”
A robed nirrin hastened forward. “He appears to have traveled to an uncharted plane, sir,” Harliss replied.
“Follow him. I do not forgive treachery.”
I shut off the Glimpse. Christ, had Sakave had his sights on Earth for all this time because Croatoan had fled here? I rubbed my face, considering everything I’d just seen. One thing that stood out was that the little bowling ball had some transdimensional jumping powers of his own; that was good to know. But why hadn’t he jumped to another dimension when he realized Sakave was after him? And what was he really?
I prepared to focus my Glimpse again—
—And a blast of red light took me in the chest, slamming me into the wall. “That is enough, godling. I do not appreciate your prying into my past.”
“How did you know?” I asked, rubbing the spot on my chest.
“Many creatures are sensitive to divinations being performed on them, and I am one. Do not do that again, I will not be so forgiving next time.”
“Sakave,” I said. “He’s coming here because of you.”
Croatoan sighed. “I believe that was his original intention. I had just arrived on this realm shortly before you encountered me back on that ship. I thought myself safe from Sakave for a time. Unfortunately, my ability to dimension shift was damaged when I arrived here, and I have not been able to do it since.” I made a mental note of that. “I had hoped that Sakave might lose interest in me, and perhaps he would have, had his own divinations not told him of the lawlessness of this realm’s people. He set his sights on it and will not rest until he brings it under his rule. So if you’re thinking of just handing me over, godling, think again.”
“So you’re helping the Caulborn because you’re afraid of what Sakave will do to you if he catches you.”
“Of course. Do you think I am some altruistic fool? But it is a mutually beneficial relationship. The Caulborn keep me safe, and I alert them when Sakave tries to force his way into this realm.”
“But why delay?” I asked. “If Sakave knew you were here, why hasn’t he made it his top priority to retrieve you?”
“I suspect it is because other, more pressing matters claim his attention. Sakave is one who prefers to lead from the front. He does not delegate tasks. He is there personally each time a realm is claimed. He leads the charge into every new dimension. He takes responsibility for those realms, and as such, distractions arise. But he never forgets.”
I rubbed my chin. I didn’t like Croatoan, and I still didn’t trust him. On the other hand, I doubted he was going to screw us over. This time.
“All right, Croatoan,” I said. “I’ll leave you to your rest.”
With that, I went back to my office, jotted off a quick email to the boss and Jake on what I’d learned, and then went home to bed.
I portaled from the alley behind HQ right into my kitchen. I had a bowl of SpaghettiOs, and then five minutes later, I was under the covers and trying to find a comfortable way to rest my still-sensitive head. It felt like I’d only been asleep for a few minutes when something jumped on my chest.
I jolted and found my Commander Courageous action figure clinging onto my shirt. As I snapped the light on, I saw that he hadn’t bothered with his trademark pose or smile this time. “Vincent.” There was a tone I’d never heard before in his voice. Borderline desperation. “Get to the Bright Side right now. Treggen’s gone over there with Black Flash podlings, and he plans to unleash them in Daimin’s settlement.”
A thousand questions flashed through my mind. “How do—”
“No time!” Courageous yelled in a near-panic. “Go now, or the Urisk all die!”
The pure, unadulterated fear in Courageous’s voice got me moving. I portaled to the Bright Side, just outside of Daimin’s settlement. The twin suns were dimmer right now, this was about as close to dark as it got over here. Silver grass crunched under my feet, and I spared a moment to clad myself in my standard clothing. As Reeboks, jeans, and a leather jacket appeared on me, I took in Daimin’s settlement.
Daimin and his, well, compatriots, had renounced me and cut all ties with the other Urisk. They’d left the safety of Aegeon and set out on their own. Using their psychic powers, they’d raised a small town for themselves in a short time, using the same dome-style architecture that was present in the main Urisk city. There were perhaps fifteen or twenty houses, a handful of tool sheds, and a grain silo.
But no defenses to speak of. I was sure that Daimin had lookouts or sentries somewhere, but I couldn’t see them.
And that’s when I caught sight of Treggen, sneaking his way toward the outskirts of Daimin’s settlement.
The bastard hadn’t changed much since the last time I’d seen him. Still tall and well built, and the tattoo of a sun on his neck stood out even at this distance. He clutched a small leather sack in his right fist and was moving with the stealth of a ninja. This sonofabitch was responsible for the deaths of thousands of my people, had tortured my partner, and had engineered a plan to mentally dominate every paranormal in Boston. So saying I had a bone to pick with him was a bit of an understatement.
I raced forward, the short distance between us nothing but a blur as I focused on him. In hindsight, I’ll admit that the smart thing to do would have been to telekinetically bind Treggen, or call up a prison of stone all around him, or just immolate him on the spot. But after everything this bastard had put me through, I really, really just wanted to hit him. I caught him square acros
s the jaw, shattering it like glass. The blow transferred most of my momentum to him, and he went sailing three hundred feet backward, away from the settlement and losing his grip on the sack. I latched onto it with telekinesis and hauled it toward me, being careful to keep a second telekinetic band around the bag’s mouth, holding it shut.
When the bag reached my hand, I risked a quick glance inside. The podlings that I’d seen under the Black Flash’s armpit had hatched, and looked like little inky black starfish wriggling around. They chittered and scrambled toward the sack’s opening. I closed it, conjured a sphere of telekinesis around it, and then crushed the bag with all the telekinetic force I could muster. Which, on the Bright Side, operating at full god power, was quite a lot. The contents of the bag liquefied and squirted out the mouth, splattering all over the inside of my telekinetic bubble. I immolated what was left, using fire so hot the ground within a ten-foot radius turned into a blackened patch of ash.
Treggen was only now woozily getting to his feet, and I rushed over to him, punching him as hard as I could in the stomach. There was no way for him to counter; over here, I can just move that fast. This wouldn’t be a fair fight, and I knew it. But a fair fight wasn’t what I was after. I wanted revenge. Revenge for my people, for the paranormals in Boston he’d harmed, for that flower that had injected Megan with botanical magic and ultimately what caused me to make that damned promise.
Treggen was collapsed on the ground at my feet, whimpering. I was pretty sure I’d ruptured something with that last hit. It was time to end this. I wasn’t going to do the stupid thing and taunt him, I wasn’t going to make witty remarks, and I wasn’t going to gloat. I was just going to kill this man and be done with it. Murder isn’t really in my nature, but this was a case where I’d make an exception.