The Peregrine Omnibus, Volume Two (52 page)

“You’re a monster,” Moriarty said with a sneer.

“Says a man who has engaged in criminal activities throughout the world?”

“My crimes are ones that a gentleman can speak about with a straight face. I kill because it is a necessary component of my career. I don’t gain sadistic thrills from it.”

“Please.” The Warlike Manchu appeared like an apparition, the sun shining over his shoulder and making his body nothing more than a silhouette. “We stand on the cusp of a tremendous victory. Now is not the moment for petty disagreements.”

Satan inclined his head in agreement. He rose, the girl at his feet moaning as he did so. She kept her eyes downward, looking to Moriarty like nothing more than a whipped puppy. “You are correct,” Satan said. “If the so-called Napoleon of Crime is willing to overlook my… unusual desires, I am certainly willing to put aside my frustrations with his old-fashioned sensibilities.”

The Warlike Manchu noted the expression of anger on Moriarty’s face, but was pleased to see that the old man refused to take Satan’s bait. “We have reached the site, gentlemen. Down below us, buried beneath the silt and grime and centuries, lies R’lyeh… and ultimate power for us all.”

Moriarty tore his attention away from the naked girl and glanced up at the Manchu. “You are still certain that the Great Old Ones won’t simply tear us to shreds when they’re free?”

“I believe that the writings are quite clear on that regard,” the Manchu answered, stroking his long moustache as he said so. The men and women who worked on his ship were dropping anchor and making preparations for the celebratory feast their master had demanded, moving about in near silence. “The ones who release them will be granted protection from the turmoil to come, and each of us will be given dominion over one sect of people. I shall claim my Asiatic homelands, and I believe that Doctor Satan has aims on the eastern United States.”

Satan shrugged, a smug smile on his face. “I don’t really care where my lands will be, as long as Ascott Keane and the Peregrine are mine to torture at length.”

“The Peregrine is not yours to kill,” the Manchu said, and his voice dropped an octave as he spoke. The tall Asian’s body grew rigid, and for a moment he seemed to shake with an inner rage. “He was once my pupil, in the days before he claimed the Peregrine identity for himself. I had such hopes for him, but instead he has become a constant thorn in my side, foiling my efforts too many times for me to count. If any one of us is to be the one responsible for his demise, it shall be me.”

“As you wish, Manchu. Your hatred for him eclipses even my own.” Doctor Satan bowed low, but Moriarty caught a glimpse of the man’s face and recognized the expression he saw there: a deceptive evil that suggested that Satan was playing the Manchu for all he was worth.

If the Warlike Manchu realized this, he gave no sign. “Then let us eat in celebration, for as soon as night falls, our ritual must begin. By the end of the evening, the Great Old Ones will stride the world anew!”

* * *

While the consortium of evil met above decks, a slender man of Asian descent slipped below. He wore the colors of the Ten Fingers, but he was not truly one of them. James “Jimmy” Imada was twenty-three years old and blessed with a physique that was svelte but firm. His raven-black hair was cut short, and his facial features were carefully sculpted into a handsome cast.

Four years ago, Jimmy had been given an ultimatum that had changed his life forever. Caught running drugs for a Chinatown gang, Jimmy had come face-to-face with the feared vigilante known as the Peregrine. To Jimmy’s surprise and eventual gratitude, the Peregrine had recognized something within the frightened young man. Max had asked him why he was working with the gang, and Jimmy had confessed that he needed the money to pay for his ailing father’s medical treatments. The Peregrine had agreed to fund the doctors’ visits if Jimmy would become one of his agents—specifically, he wanted Jimmy to try and infiltrate the Ten Fingers. Jimmy had agreed, though he was informed of the dangers. He wanted to do the right thing and this was the opportunity to do that, and he was grateful that the Peregrine was able to look past his race and his unfortunate profession to see the good man inside.

Four long years of slowly gaining the trust of those around him had finally led to this: a posting on the Warlike Manchu’s yacht. It was really the first time that Jimmy had been close to the Manchu himself, though the information he’d passed on to the Peregrine had helped the hero foil a number of smaller operations.

Jimmy reached into his pocket and retrieved a small radio device given to him by the Peregrine. He used it only sparingly and only for the most dire of situations. From what he’d overhead so far, this was certainly one of those occasions. The radio functioned like a telephone, except over tremendous distances, allowing for instantaneous communication. Even better, the device was small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. A small listening piece slipped inside his ear, connected to a microphone by a small cord.

Jimmy hid himself in a small cabin containing the mystic artifacts assembled for the ritual. He stared at each of the things in turn, his eyes falling lingering on the Mask of Nyarlathotep. The strangely carved covering seemed to call to him, making him feel somewhat sleepy…

“Jimmy? I was hoping to hear from you.”

Jimmy jumped, recognizing the sound of the Peregrine’s voice in his ear. He didn’t even remember activating the device, but he must have done so. “I’m aboard the Manchu’s yacht. He’s got two other men with him and they’re talking about raising some sunken city…”

“I’m on it, Jimmy. I need you to stay close to him and keep your radio open for incoming messages from me. Today’s the day you really earn your keep.”

“Will do, boss.” Jimmy heard the line go silent and his heart seemed to skip a few beats. Tonight he’d either help save the world… or watch it go down in flames.

And still his eyes never left the Mask of Nyarlathotep.

CHAPTER IX

The City of the Damned

Revenant calmly flew the seaplane low on the horizon, her hands steady despite the nervousness she felt. In mere moments, she could be walking through infamous R’leyh, the Great Old Ones slithering all around her. She couldn’t help but wonder if her father had ever encountered anything remotely like this. Most of the stories she’d been told of the past Revenants had implied they had spent most of their time battling pirates, slavers and the like, but never had she heard of them traveling to sunken cities that were home to demonic gods, fallen from the stars.

“Mind if I sit with you for a few minutes?”

Sally looked up to see Professor Stone settling down into the copilot’s seat. “Not at all. Bored with the conversation in the back?”

Stone smiled, staring out the front window. “Not quite. Max and the others are mainly making small talk. Everyone knows the danger we’re about to face, but no one really wants to talk about it.”

A small silence fell between them before Stone said in a quiet voice, “I knew your father. He was a good man.”

Sally blinked in surprise. She kept her eyes on the waters before them, spotting a small speck on the horizon that might be the Manchu’s yacht. “You did? I never heard him mention you.”

“I’m not surprised. He and I shared a few adventures together that probably wouldn’t have been fit for conversation with one’s young daughter. We encountered horrible things, things that would have broken the sanity of lesser men. He aided me against the Cult of Set twice, and once against Dr. Phobos.”

Sally laughed softly. “I was just thinking that he probably never had to deal with menaces like the Warlike Manchu and Doctor Satan.”

“He did, and he handled himself incredibly well. I wish I’d heard about his death in time to attend his funeral. He always spoke of you with pride.”

“I’m sure he mentioned that he wished I’d been a boy,” Sally said, her humor fading somewhat. “He was terrified he’d die without a male heir to continue on as the Revenant.”

“I won’t lie and say he didn’t mention his disappointment that he wouldn’t have a son to pass the mantle on to. It made him feel like a failure to the Revenant line, but he never expressed disappointment with you specifically. Quite the contrary—he always spoke of you with pride.”

Revenant sighed and shook her head. “I should be over this by now, shouldn’t I? I’m a grown woman and I’m doing just fine as the Revenant. Heck, I’ve even had dreams and visions of my father telling me he was proud of me and the job I’m doing.”

“Then maybe it’s time you listened to them.”

Revenant’s response was lost in the flurry of thoughts that suddenly came to her. Up ahead, a city was rising from the depths of the sea—tall spires reached towards the moon, and the architecture was at once both alien and familiar. The peculiar slanting of the rooftops and the narrow branching of the streets spoke of inhuman inhabitants and struck a chord with Sally. It was a place of nightmares, usually kept buried in the human psyche…

“I’m going to bring us in for a landing nearby,” Sally said, flipping switches as she spoke.

“Watch out!” Stone shouted, but his warning came far too late.

From the churning waters surrounding the rising city of R’leyh came a group of octopoid tentacles. They were massive, far larger than the normal representatives of their kind, and they whipped out at the plane carrying the Claws of the Peregrine. The impact snapped the back half of the plane in two, sending both halves hurtling towards the moonlit sea.

Sally’s head snapped back hard and her skull cracked against the side of the cockpit. Blood began to ooze down her face and she slid into unconsciousness. The front of the plane slammed hard into the water, and the cockpit quickly flooded. Stone was a blur of motion. Before the plane had even hit the ocean, he was out of his seat and undoing the straps holding Sally in place. He gripped her hard against him and swam with her into the forward section of the passenger compartment. The Claws were nowhere to be seen, and Stone found himself hoping that Catalyst had managed to whisk them all to safety.

Stone found his way out into the larger ocean and began swimming upwards as the plane’s wreckage sank beneath him. Thanks to his excellent physique, he was able to quickly reach the water line and hold Sally’s head up to avoid her taking in any more of the liquid into her lungs.

The professor spotted the shores of the risen city and began to move towards them. R’leyh was a bizarre sight, and in the moonlight, Stone’s powerful eyesight allowed him to drink in the details. In the heart of the city was a hideous monolith-crowned citadel, and Stone could feel the perversity of the place even from his spot in the ocean waters. It was like the devil himself was entombed within. The sheer immensity of the city was breathtaking, with gargantuan statues and bas-reliefs.

Even more disturbing to the well-traveled Stone was the basic inhumanity of the city’s architecture. It was a panorama of vast angles and stone surfaces, far too large to belong to anything right and proper for this world. Horrible images and disturbing hieroglyphs lined the exterior walls of the buildings, telling silent tales of torment and horror. Stone recognized the very geometry of the place was abnormal and non-Euclidean. It was a loathsome place, speaking of dimensions and worlds that were by necessity far apart from humanity’s.

Though the narrow streets of the city were cast in shadow, Stone thought he picked out several dozen forms beginning to shamble about. That they were not human was never in question, though the exact nature of what they were was thankfully unknown. Stone could easily understand why some went mad at the sight of such things.

The professor pulled himself out of the water, yanking Revenant up at his side. They were now resting on a cobblestone path leading into the city proper. Something was flopping on the ground nearby, and Stone noticed that it wasn’t a normal fish at all—it had a disturbingly human face with razor-sharp teeth. When it caught sight of Stone, it began flopping around more quickly, as if trying to somehow reach them.

An emerald-clad foot came down upon it, causing its guts and eyes to burst out from its body. Stone looked up to see Nathaniel Caine, the Catalyst, standing before him. “They haven’t awakened Cthulhu yet,” the mage said, looking around. “But it won’t be long now. We have to make it to the temple in the center of town.”

“Where are the others?” Stone asked, rising to his feet.

“I don’t know, and my powers are being twisted by the energies surrounding this place. I can’t call upon all my usual spells, so I can’t find Rachel or the rest of the Claws.”

“Can you heal Sally? She hurt her head.”

“No need,” Revenant groaned out the words, slowly crawling up to her knees. With Stone’s help, she managed to find her footing and stand up. She coughed out some water and looked deathly pale. “I’m okay.”

“You have a concussion,” Stone said with a frown. “You’re in no condition to—”

“I’m fine,” Revenant said in a flat tone that brooked no argument. “I’m leader of the Claws of the Peregrine. I have to be present for the final battle.”

Catalyst gave Stone a
you better not argue—trust me
sort of look that the professor took to heart. “We need to move towards the city square on foot—if we take to the air, we’ll be spotted. And then we’ll be fighting for every inch we take.”

Revenant checked her pistols to make sure that the sojourn through the water hadn’t damaged them. Convinced they were still in functioning order, she gave a curt nod. “Then let’s do this.”

* * *

The rest of the Claws team—the Peregrine, Esper, and Vincent—had likewise made their way to shore, though they were several city blocks away. Rachel had spotted the two men flailing in the water and used her telekinesis to help them to dry ground.

Max ran a hand through his sopping hair and quickly checked his weapons. He’d brought along extra ammunition and a variety of implements designed to inflict maximum pain to occult creatures.

“Be on your guard,” Vincent said. The hulking creature was staring fixedly at several shapes that were moving towards them through the gloom. A thick fog, knee-high, seemed to encapsulate the newly risen city, making visibility difficult.