Imperium (Caulborn) (26 page)

One left.

“You,” I snarled. “I don’t know if you can hear, if you can speak, or if you can think. But I’m going to find a way to make you talk.” The creature backed away from me, and the glyph on its chest brightened. A self-destruct mechanism, maybe?

“Oh no,” I said. “You’re not getting off that easy.” I shot forward and put my hands on the creature’s chest. Then I Opened it. I was taking a chance here, but the creature that Petra had broken had released a ball of energy, and I was betting that ball was what animated the soldier. Which meant that the soldier body was just a container for that ball. Which meant that it could be Opened.

Sure enough, the soldier’s chest cavity opened and a ball of light drifted out. It quivered and tried to float away. I called up walls of earth and dirt, forming a thirty foot dome around myself and the creature. Suddenly the world was pitch-black, save for the light the ball gave off. I willed some of the rocks within the dome to become phosphorescent, and the dome’s interior was bathed in a pale green light.

I advanced on the ball and reached out to it with my mind. The ball had intelligence, I could sense it. I gifted the creature with the ability to speak and understand my language. “Who sent you?” I demanded. No answer. I applied pressure from all sides, beginning to crush the creature. It did not react. I looked into it again. It had been built without the ability to feel pain.

I blessed it with that ability.

Then I increased the pressure again. The creature screamed. “Talk!” I demanded again. “I am running out of patience and I’m tempted to just crush you here and now!”

“Enough!” It yowled in a voice like a cat’s. “I will talk.”

I stopped the pressure. This thing had never felt pain before; it must have been very traumatic for it. “Good,” I said. “Now, who sent you?”

“Treggen,” the voice returned immediately. “Warlord Treggen.”

“Who is Treggen? What does he want?”

“Treggen wants to conquer all of this realm,” the ball said.

“Why?” I demanded. I had visions of Treggen amassing all of the Bright Side’s nastier residents and leading them on to conquer other realms.

“He just wishes to unify and hold this realm,” the ball said weakly.

“That’s it?” I asked incredulously. “My people have been killed, my girlfriend shattered, because some megalomaniac wants to hold the Bright Side?”

The ball was silent. I snarled and made the ball feel like chains of white-hot razor wire were being dragged across it. It shrieked in agony. I reveled in its suffering for a moment, savored its pain. I wanted this creature to hurt as much as I did right now. I gave myself a shake and released the chains. I had to get control of my temper before I did something I’d regret. The ball whimpered in the after-effects of my attack. I detonated the dome, sending chunks of earth and dirt out in all directions. Anger and frustration welled within me, and I lashed out at the ball. “Tell me where Treggen is,” I hissed.

“I do not know,” the ball replied. “He contacts us through the hobgoblins.” I wanted to kill the ball. Destroy it, teach it more about pain. But I’d done too much already. I was dangerously close to a precipice that if I went over, I wouldn’t be able to stand myself anymore. I released the ball.

“Get out of here,” I said. “You go back to Treggen, and you tell him that the Urisk are under my protection. You tell him that I will tear out his eyes and piss on his brain if he attacks my people again.” I pointed at the ball. “And if I ever see you again, you’ll regret it.” The ball shot away and I scrambled back through the hole in the wall. I knelt next to Petra’s shattered form. The tears came then, and I’m not sure how long I cried. I tried to reform her, and while I was able to get some of her pieces to reattach, I couldn’t make her whole. It was the same as it had been with Megan; some things I could only do for my followers. And while I’m a god here, Petra isn’t of the Bright Side. I didn’t have the power to recreate her. I cradled her head against my chest as I cried. There had to be a way to bring her back.

Gearstripper.

He’d helped fix her once before, back before we’d met. Maybe he’d know what to do now. I conjured a bag and gently placed Petra’s body into it. I checked three times to make sure I had all her pieces and then walked back to the city. Tears were still running down my face. I didn’t care. Aegeon opened for me and I passed through. I was greeted by a crowd of cheering Urisk. I found Lotholio. He looked at me and the mirth drained from his eyes. “Lord?” he asked.

“Have your scouts watch the hobgoblins, Loth,” I said. “This Treggen character is behind these attacks, and the hobgoblins are his pawns. Contact me once you’ve learned anything.”

“Lord, where is the Lady?”

“She’s badly hurt, Loth. She might be dead. I need to go home to get her some help.” The cheers and chants died away as my priest telepathically communicated this to my followers. There were a few heartbeats of silence, and then the Urisk began to hum a song of mourning. More tears came, but I somehow found my way to Aviorla.

“Vincent Corinthos,” she said. “I am pleased to see you well again.”

“Back home, Aviorla,” I whispered. “Please.” The phasilion sensed my distress and said nothing more. Then I was back in the alley behind the Children’s museum. The sky was still dark in Boston and the rain had dwindled to a clinging mist. The windows of Petra’s car were foggy, but I could see Gears’ silhouette in the driver seat. He pushed the door open. His face lit up when he saw me.

“Vinnie! You’re okay!” He jumped and wrapped his tiny arms around my neck. He glanced around. “Where’s Petra?” I looked at the bag and Gears’ eyes went wide. “Oh, Vinnie, no.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I need you to fix her, Gearstripper. Please. Can you do that?”

Gears’ yellow eyes were shining with tears and determination. “I’ll do my best.” I drove the car back to the office. The power had come back on, and Jake looked at us as we walked in. I didn’t acknowledge him. We got to Gears’ workshop and he cleared off one of his tables. Then we carefully laid out Petra’s pieces on the work surface.

Gears sat down next to Petra’s head and his ears drooped. His tiny clawed hand gently traced her marble hair. “This is bad, Vinnie,” Gears whispered.

“But you can fix her, right? She was broken when the Caulborn found her.”

Gears’ mouth worked and I could tell he was trying not to cry. When his voice finally came out, it was barely a squeak. “Her arm was broken, a few of her fingers. Nothing like this.”

“Try anyway.” It came out as a rasping snarl, and fire enveloped my clenched fists.

Gears looked up at me, fear in his eyes. “I will, Vinnie, I will.”

“Jesus, Gears, I’m sorry. I just—” I closed my eyes and consciously unclenched my fists. I felt the fire fade away. Gears’ tiny hand patted my shoulder.

“I’ll do everything I can, Vinnie, I promise.”

I left the workshop and went to my office. I shut the door behind me and put my head on my arms. I’d failed my people. I’d failed Petra. My world was collapsing all around me, and I, a god, was powerless to stop it. I ground my teeth and unsuccessfully tried to fight back tears. A few minutes later, I heard my door click open.

“Vincent?” Galahad’s voice. “Son?” I raised my head. He looked worried as he pulled over another chair and sat down next to me. “Gearstripper told me what happened to Petra. I’m very sorry.”

“I was such an idiot,” I whispered. “I should’ve told her to stay with Lotholio. I could have dealt with those things that broke her before she even got there, but instead I played with them. I—” The tears threatened again and I screwed my eyes shut. Galahad put his arm around my shoulders.

“No shame in tears, Vincent,” he said. “Let it out.” But I couldn’t. I was too angry at myself, too frustrated at everything to cry anymore. I shrugged off Galahad’s arm and began pacing back and forth in my office. I swore and ranted for a long time. My powers started to get away from me, books and action figures flew off the shelves, seemingly of their own accord. Papers in the waste basket began to smolder. I didn’t care. I wanted to burn the world, wanted to crush something, anything.

Galahad’s expression was one of compassion and empathy the entire time.

“I swear, when I get my hands on this Treggen, I will tear him limb from limb.” I looked up at Galahad. “No words of wisdom, boss? You’re not going to tell me this is all part of God’s plan, to turn the other cheek or some bullshit like that?”

Galahad walked up to me, placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me directly in the eyes. “Vincent, did you plan for your followers to suffer?”

The comment snapped me back as if I’d been slapped. “What? No, of course not. I didn’t plan for the Urisk to be attacked, I…” I trailed off. I hadn’t planned for anyone to get hurt. All I could do now was to try and make things right. For the Urisk, and for Petra.

Galahad removed his hands. “Vincent, your anger is natural, and to an extent, healthy. But don’t let it cloud your judgment. If you do, you may find that you’ve lost more than just Petra. The Urisk need you to keep a calm head.”

He was right, of course. I nodded. I looked around my office. My action figures were scattered on the floor, papers were everywhere, and the place was a general mess. “Thanks, boss. I’m sorry I lost it there.”

Galahad smiled. “Nothing to apologize for, Vincent.” Galahad moved and his hip bumped my desk. My Pepsi, which had amazingly not been thrown around, fell off and splashed on the carpet.

“Oh, rats,” he said as he bent over to pick up the can. “Sorry about that, Vincent.”

Rats? Pieces suddenly clicked in my mind, and I hastily relayed what I’d just realized to Galahad. “Angels of mercy protect us,” he whispered as he blessed himself.

I was out the door before he could ask any questions. Kristin’s office was a few doors down from mine. I ducked inside. She was out, but I just needed a few things. The first was one of the hazmat suits she wore when in the sewers. The second was one of the pairs of thick rubber boots she kept handy. I found both of those in her office closet. The third was to get a look at one of the sewer maps. It only took a moment to find what I was looking for: a big four-way junction in the sewers, about a hundred yards from Caulborn HQ. Perfect.

I rushed downstairs. I got to the lobby and found Jake sitting at his usual place. “Jake,” I called. “Get the emergency decontamination unit set up next to the garage entrance. Have the Doc meet us out there. Full gear.” I saw him nod and I sped on. I went outside and telekinetically pulled a sewer grate free of its housing. Then I dropped down into the sewers.

The smell was more than unpleasant. My flashlight barely made a dent in the darkness. I sloshed through the muck into a slightly wider tunnel. I took two lefts and a right, and then I was at the junction. It was about the size of the conference room back in the office. It would do.

I let out a short breath. “Okay, here we go.” I closed my eyes, tapped the Urisks’ faith in me and reached out to the rats. I found dozens of them not too far away, and called them forward, commanding them to line up in rows. As the first batch arrived, I reached out farther, and found more. I called these in as well. I repeated the process over and over again. The tunnel began to heat, and squeaks and scratching sounds filled the air. Sweat ran down my face and I could feel the effort draining my reserves of faith. There were a lot more rats than I’d planned on, but I had to keep calling them in.

Finally, I couldn’t reach any further. I opened my eyes and found thousands of rats, all packed on top of one another in the tunnel. I quested out with my mind and found they were clogging the three other tunnels leading into the junction, as well. I had deliberately kept them from coming up behind me. I’d need a clear passage to run through.

Pestilence said he had plans for the rats, and he’d gotten cranky at me when I’d used the rats for surveillance. But when I’d sent the rats forward as a diversion to let me and Megan escape from Leevan’s basement of doom, he hadn’t chastised me. So that meant he didn’t object to how I’d had the rats bite the zombies, zombies which were created by a supernatural disease. Logically, the rats would pick up the disease and become carriers when they consumed the zombies’ flesh. If my hunch was right, Pestilence planned to use the rats to spread that disease throughout the city, and I’d unwittingly helped him out.

Now I just needed to—

I screamed in pain as something tried to yank the rats away from me. It felt like a blazing hot knife had been stabbed into my head. I fell to my knees and swore every curse I could think of. I latched back onto the rats, willing them to stay where they were. They were confused, and the more agitated they became, the harder they’d be to control.

The stabbing came again, but this time I was ready for it, and held onto the rats. The increased exertion was rapidly draining my faith reserves. Pestilence must’ve realized I was doing something big, and he didn’t want his pets to be a part of it. I was running out of time. If I didn’t end this now, I’d run out of power in a tug-of-war with the Horseman.

I took a few staggering steps back up the tunnel. Then I drew on all the Urisk’s faith and conjured fire. I sent a wave of flames down the tunnels, so hot that it incinerated the rats before it even touched them. Their squeaky shrieks exploded in my mind, but I held onto the fire and willed it on. There was nothing down here for it to burn except for the rats. A wall of heat rushed forward, and I drew on even more of the Urisk’s faith to control it. When the immolation was over, when the last rat’s scream vanished from my mind, I used my will to extinguish the fire.

When it was done, I collapsed to my hands and knees and threw up. The smell of burnt rodent and boiled sewage was too much for me. I leaned against the tunnel wall, covered in sweat and filth. I felt at my faith reserves. I was nearly empty, but I had just enough for one more psychic trick. I struggled up to my feet. Now I just had to get out of the sewers.

“CORINTHOS!” Shit. I looked over my shoulder and saw Pestilence mounted on his horse about thirty yards away. “You have disrupted some very carefully crafted plans, godling.”