I lie half awake, a mix of dreams, thoughts, and memories making my sleep fitful. I try to sort out the real from the imagined. I remember Fractal, under the influence of one of the King’s collars, bringing Diablo back and then binding the horse to Mercury. That feels pretty solidly real. Unsettling, but real. Afterwards, there were the intercepted messages from Millennium, and Mercury’s reply. I could have imagined that, but I don’t think so. It doesn’t really make a difference either way. Finally, there was the conversation between Millennium and Lenore that I somehow glimpsed. That one feels the most real of all.
I roll over, trying not to think about that bit.
I’ve almost fallen back to sleep when I overhear Grace and Mercury talking. After a few moments, I realize they’re talking about me. I’m not awake enough to follow the whole conversation, but I catch the drift. Grace believes that I can break the cycles. She thinks I can change things. I’m the reason she’s doing this. I lie there, not wanting to let her know I’m overhearing, because I have no idea what to say. No one’s ever put that much faith in me before.
Eventually, the conversation shifts. They begin to discuss Specter, and how we should deal with what he has become.
“Shiraska was the sixth,” I interject, finally feeling it’s safe to let them know I’m awake.
“The sixth of us?” asks Mercury, confused or simply thrown off balance by my sudden participation in the conversation.
“No,” I explain. “The sixth of the things that are in us.”
“What do you know about him, Delilah?” Grace asks. “What sin did he represent?”
“Gluttony,” I respond.
“Of course,” I hear Frac mumble to himself. Apparently I wasn’t the only one pretending to be asleep.
“Wait,” Grace interjects, looking at me. “You said Shiraska was the sixth. There were seven...”
Grace, how do you always manage to figure out exactly what I’m thinking about?
“Well,” I begin uneasily. I had intended to bring this nagging thought up, just not so suddenly. “Last time, Pride was a child.”
Grace goes pale, and I sense her wavering mentally as well as physically.
“No...” she exhales. Then I see the confidence come back into her eyes. “No, we can’t let that happen...”
“If the child could be a threat, we can’t leave it up to chance...” Mercury says, matter-of-factly, looking at Grace.
Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m in his face.
“Hi, Delilah,” he responds.
“You get one warning, Mercury,” I say, my voice cold and level. “If you lay one hand on my child...”
“If it’s the embodiment of Pride and you protect it...” Mercury counters
“Like I’d protect you?” I growl.
“She has a point, Mercury,” Grace interjects. “The child’s going to be one of us.”
Mercury looks at Grace, and then back to me.
“I hope I’m wrong, Delilah.” He says. “I hope I’m wrong.”
I back off, silently. Mercury’s right; we all make our own decisions. He would do well to remember, though, that I’ve made a decision to protect my child with my life. Until the day the child I’m carrying can fend for itself and be held responsible for its own actions, anything or anyone that wants to threaten it has to go through me. I’ll drop this for now, but I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on Mercury. He’s had his warning.
“So,” Grace says a few moments later, interrupting the tense silence. “We know Shiraska is headed this direction...”
“Called to Galt’s Gulch by Brother Lavey,” Fractal interrupts, his words full of contempt. “And we still have to figure out how to stop him.”
“We have to stay out of his way for now,” I remind them. “Alastor told us we should run.” I pause a moment before adding “And he told me I’d find Lenore again.”
“That’s good, right?” Mercury responds, his voice distant with confusion or disinterest. I can’t tell which.
“Yeah.” I say. “I think it is. She’s pregnant, too.” I stop, and backtrack to correct myself. I was so affected by the second half of that vision that I forgot the others had seen the first. “Or, she was.”
“Was?” asks Grace. I pause for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts. How do I explain something I don’t understand myself?
“I saw her,” I begin. “She was with Millennium and the others.”
At the mention of Millennium’s name, Mercury’s attention snaps back to the conversation. He waits intently for me to continue.
“The doctors found evidence that she had been pregnant, but the baby is just gone.” I explain.
“Gone?” Mercury asks. “How?”
“All the...” I stumble over my words, trying to find one that fits. “All the versions of me were created genetically, biologically, and...” I place a hand on my stomach,” physically the same.”
“Okay...” Mercury responds. He and the others stare at me with looks of utter confusion on their faces. This just isn’t working.
“She’s not pregnant because I am.” I continue, trying a different route. “ I can’t really explain exactly what happened, and I can’t explain how it happened at all. But, I’m pretty sure I know when.”
“When, Delilah?” Grace asks.
“The Icon back in Absolution,” I respond.
“That makes sense,” Grace interjects. “You were both in the Icon. Your images were basically touching.”
“It’s more than that,” I take a deep breath, bracing myself for the painful part of the explanation. “When I was in that Icon, I saw a vision. I was with Adam and Alastor, and they told me I had a choice to make. There were two versions of myself in front of me; me and Lenore. I eventually chose me, because … not that I thought I could make Lenore’s life easier, but because I wanted to give her....”
“Freedom,” Frac finishes for me through clenched teeth.
“Exactly,” I say, half responding to his helping me find the word I was looking for, and half responding to his sharing my anger. “Thanks.”
“Just before I stepped forward toward myself, I looked down.” I continue. “The hands I saw weren’t mine, They were... small.”
“You weren’t making the choice you thought you were.” Grace says thoughtfully.
“No,” I agree. “I wasn’t. And shortly after I made my choice, I found myself in front of Golgotha. Lenore was there. She told me if there was to be hope for this world, I had to carry on.” I pause for a moment, struggling to get the next sentence out. “ And then, I watched as the King in Black, who we now know is Alastor, reached out his hand. And then Lenore disintegrated.”
“I’m sorry it happened that way, Delilah,” Grace tries to comfort me, “But, you made the right decision.”
“I know,” I sigh, “And I know she’s not gone, but I just don’t understand. I don’t get why Alastor would tell me she would have freedom, and then show me that.”
“Because he’s a liar, Delilah.” Frac turns to me, fire in his eyes. “He’s a monster. If the man you cared about ever existed, he was gone a long time ago.”
“You may be right,” I say begrudgingly. The conversation moves on, but I tune it out, concentrating on sorting out my own thoughts.
We get our bearings, and start our day’s travel. The next coven on our way to Galt’s Gulch is Grave’s Pass. We should be able to get there in under a day. The beginning of the trip goes smoothly. The terrain is mainly open and flat, and Diablo makes good time. Eventually, Frac strikes up a conversation.
“Grace,” he says, almost hesitantly. “I know that some of us have talked about the things that have been bothering us. How are you doing?”
“I’m great,” Grace’s words drip with sarcasm.
“You know, the thing inside you has it’s good points, too. It stands for lust, but it also stands for passion. A passion for life.”
Grace listens thoughtfully.
“There’s a middle ground, and you can find it.” Frac pauses. “I’ll help you.”
Grace smiles and half laughs. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
I see a look pass between them, and am surprised to find myself tensing, almost in anger. No, what I’m feeling isn’t anger. It’s.... jealousy. And I’m not sure which surprises me more; the fact that I’m feeling this at all, or the fact that I’m feeling something for both of them. This is going to take a while to sort out.
A little later on, Mercury brings Diablo to a halt. Navigation has hit a bit of a snag. There are two possible paths to Grave’s Pass. One leads over flat, open fields. This would be easier travel, but will take us substantially longer. The other path leads through a twisty, treacherous swamp. As unappealing as it sounds, the swamp seems like the smartest choice. Kassandra seems certain she knows the area, and it will shorten our trip substantially. The decision is clinched when we notice the darkness gathering behind us. Shiraska is on the move, and is quickly gaining ground on us. Mercury urges Diablo forward. The thick shrubbery scratches and snares as Diablo trudges through. Every few steps, we’re jolted as the horse has to struggle to pull a hoof out of the mire. Suddenly, we hear Alastor’s voice in our heads.
“You’re running out of time. Let me help you.”
Our route rises before us. A ribbon of dry ground stretches toward the other side of the swamp. Diablo snorts, and takes a tentative step forward. His feet find purchase, and he continues, more confidently. The rest of our passage is almost anticlimactically uneventful.
Once on the other side of the swamp, we stop again. We’ve reached another crossroads. Shiraska is still close by, but it feels like his route has shifted. Instead of heading straight for us, it seems as if his path is veering toward the northeast.
“There are no covens in that area,” Kassandra informs us, and we all breathe a sigh of relief. “But, that area is the meeting grounds for the yearly gathering of the nomads in this region. And they should be gathering any time.”
“They won’t even know what hit them,” Frac says angrily.
“There is a pass through the mountains that will pass through where he’s going,” Kassandra says hollowly. “But, it is harsh travel.”
“Which means we’d never beat him,” Frac finishes her sentence. “So, there’s nothing we can do.”
We sit sullenly for a moment, and I feel a nudging in the back of my mind. I calm my thoughts, and hear a voice. It sounds like Lenore, but it’s faint and buzzing.
“Shiraska is a creature of the night. As he travels, the night travels with him.” I repeat to the others what I’ve heard.
“And the nomads will feel the shift in the daedelum, and get out of the way,” Grace says hopefully.
“For now, at least,” Frac says, still worried.
We decide that the direct route to Grave’s Pass is best, and we’ll have to leave the nomads to fend for themselves.
“Before we go,” Frac says, “I want to do something.”
From the blank stares I see on the others’ faces, none of them have any more clue what Frac could possibly have up his sleeve than I do.
“Grace,” he continues, “I’m going to need your help. I want to talk to Collusion.”
Grace looks at him in disbelief. “Why?”
“Because I need to know what we find between here and Galt’s Gulch that’s going to let us face Shiraska, since we’re not ready now.” Frac explains. “And I think she can tell me.”
Grace gives him an uncertain look, but doesn’t hesitate to touch his arm, forming the physical connection that will let them share “head space” momentarily. The rest of us keep a concerned watch as they stand frozen and unresponsive for a long moment. Frac snaps back to reality screaming in pain. I gasp in horror as I see the gaping hole to nothingness that is now in the middle of his chest. I can only assume Collusion decided to give him a wound to match hers.
We finally manage to get Fractal to calm down long enough for Kassandra to stitch the wound closed as best she can. This helps, but the nature of the trauma means that Frac is still fading fast. He loses consciousness, and we may very well lose him completely unless one of us thinks of some way to help.
A flash of inspiration flickers across Grace’s face. She kneels over Frac, and her form suddenly shifts. I cringe as I watch Jahi lean down and give Fractal a passionate kiss.
Whatever she was trying to do, it must have worked. The color begins to come back into Frac’s face.
“Was it good for you?” Fractal asks groggily, a wry grin on his face. Grace half smiles and helps him up.
The next leg of the trip is pretty quiet. Just an hour or so of further traveling brings us to a small cabin. The old man who lives there seems nice enough, and doesn’t ask many questions. No complaints here, though it is a little surprising. Especially since we showed up out of nowhere, bloodstained and injured. He seems unconcerned with the coming polarity shift, and brushes off our suggestions that he weather it in Grave’s Pass rather than here, alone. It seems odd that he would rather take such a chance rather than make the short journey to town, but, since he isn’t asking questions of us, we don’t press.
“We’re really grateful for the hospitality,” Frac addresses the old man after finishing his stew. “ Is there anything we can do to help you out in repayment before we leave? I’m pretty good with mechanical things. I’d be glad to take a look at anything you have that might need to be fixed.”
“Come to think of it,” our host replies, “My skiff hasn’t really been working quite right as of late. If you feel like taking a look at it, I’d be obliged.”
The old man points Fractal toward a shed behind the cabin, and Frac flashes a quick glance at Grace and heads off. Grace, catching his point, engages our new friend in some small talk to distract him while Frac works his magic. The less reason he has to ask questions the better.
After the skiff is repaired, we bid the cabin and it’s occupant farewell, and continue toward Grave’s Pass. The remainder of the trip is short, and passes uneventfully. The first of the covenfolk we meet seem sullen, standoffish, and generally unhelpful. There are a couple of gruff guards at the gate, and the commotion they make at our arrival draws the attention of the (drunken) coven doctor. Doc Henry, as he introduces himself, seems rather insistent that we let him take a look at us. We try to explain that all we really need is some time in the Icon (time in an Icon is a lot more likely to fix the hole in Frac’s chest than anything Doc Henry could manage to do, and it’d be better for us if the good doctor didn’t get a good look at the wound).
It’s at about this time that the welcome wagon shows up in force. Three tough looking guys butt in on the conversation. The one in charge calls himself Bart Van Eyck, and from the way he’s carrying himself, he must think he owns this coven. He immediately starts asking invasive questions, and harassing me and Grace. We reiterate that we aren’t looking for trouble. We’re just passing through. In response, the three of them draw their guns on us.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mercury and Fractal start to draw. All five of us are ready for a fight until we realize, after a closer look at our situation, that we aren’t facing just three guys with guns. Van Eyck has cronies stationed all along the ledge off in the distance, and each of them has a weapon trained on us.
The world seems to freeze for a moment. Each side is waiting on the other to move. The tension is broken by the arrival of the coven’s sheriff. It’s a relief when he steps in to diffuse the situation. This relief is somewhat lessened by the fact that he diffuses the situation by putting my friends and me in handcuffs.
Frac disables the restraints as soon as the Sheriff’s back is turned, but manages to do so in a way that makes them appear to still be functioning. We really don’t want trouble, but we also have to look out for ourselves. Now that we have a bit of an ace in the hold, we let the sheriff lead us away without protest.
And so we're spending an afternoon in a jail cell. The longer we're stuck in here, the more uneasy and twitchy I get. I designed this outfit to hide my tail, but hadn't thought about how that would work for long periods of time. The answer is: just fine unless I have to sit down. So, I spend a great deal of time pacing. My general feeling of unease is not helped in the least by the vision we get about Kassandra. Something is wrong with her. Very wrong. And neither the King or Queen can help her. So, it's our responsibility. We're left to clean up their mess, again.
A little later, we receive a visit from a couple of judicators who are stationed in the area. They'd gotten news of what happened when we got to town, and wanted to get the whole story. We give them our version of the morning’s events in as succinct a form as possible, but they don't seem convinced. They ask to cypher us so that they can see exactly what happened for themselves.
Sorry, no go. I certainly don't want some stranger poking around in my head. There’s too much that could go wrong. By the looks on the other's faces, they feel the same way.
“We’ve been out in the wilderness for quite a while,” Grace explains. “and there aren’t any icons out there. If there’s something wrong with us, and you get hurt... well, we just wouldn’t feel right.”
“It’s you’re right to refuse,” The judicator who appears to be in charge gives Grace a look that aims for sympathetic but hits somewhere closer to scornful. “And we appreciate your concern, but we know what we’re doing.”
We stand firm in our decision, and eventually the judicators leave. A few minutes later, a girl comes in with plates of food for all of us. She introduces herself as Maddie. She’s the daughter of the coven’s innkeeper. With a little encouragement, she talks Grace’s ear off for a while about sheriff McCreaty.
“He’s a good man, really,” I hear her say. “It’s just that after he watched his father die standing up to the Van Eycks, well, the spark kinda went out of him.”
Grace nods understandingly, but I can see the gears turning in her mind. And, I think she’s right. If anyone can put that spark back, it’s Grace.
After Maddie leaves, we finish our meals. None of us are lacking in appetite, but I’m especially glad to see Fractal finally looking satiated. A few hours ago, he was famished. I’m not exactly certain what’s going on, but this makes at least twice now when Frac has suddenly become unusually hungry. It doesn’t concern me as much as it seems to concern the others. I trust Frac not to hide something from us that would hurt us. Besides, both times this has happened, someone else has gotten better. I tried to take up for him, and I think I managed to help him somehow (possibly with Alastor’s help). It seems I’m destined to forever screw things up between the two of us, though, and he pushed me away again. And this time, I don’t even know what I should be sorry for.
My train of thought is interrupted when the sheriff comes in, followed by Bart Van Eyck and a couple of his cronies. The sheriff takes our handcuffs off, and tells us we’re free to go.
“No hard feelings,” Bart Van Eyck says with less sincerity than I thought humanly (poeily?) possible. I see the tension in Mercury’s shoulders as he visibly restrains himself from taking Bart Van Eyck out on the spot.
We leave the jail, and start exploring the coven. Just a breath of fresh air is enough to start shaking away my edginess. Being out of that room must be doing Grace some good, too, because she suggests doing a little shopping.
“If we’re going to do something about the Van Eyck boys, we’ll need weapons.” she smiles.
I like the way she thinks. I could really do with blowing off some steam, and those Van Eyck boys are asking for it. Besides, this entire coven seems like it could use a good kick in the pants to set it right again.
With a little effort, we get the shopkeeper to warm up to us. He’s no happier than we are with the Van Eycks. So, after we drop a few not-so-subtle hints as to our plans to take them out, the shopkeeper shutters the windows and locks the doors.
“Let’s talk business,” he says, flipping a switch that reveals a hidden display case, and another that opens a secret door.
Now, that’s more like it.
Everyone found something they liked. I picked up some brass knuckles with claws attached. Not exactly like the ones I had back in Arcadia, but close enough to feel right. I smile as I admire them.
“Kinda surprises me that you’d pick those,” the shopkeeper says. I just smile and shrug. There’s probably quite a lot about me that would surprise you, I think to myself.
We walk out of the shop, and are greeted by empty streets. No covenfolk, and no sign of Van Ike and his gang. Confused and a little concerned, we make our way to the inn.
“Need to talk to the Sheriff anyhow,” Grace says, glancing around uncomfortably. “If we can be sure he’s behind us on this, it’ll make things a lot easier.”
Sheriff McCreaty is, indeed, sitting at a table in the inn. He’s slumped in his chair, a half-full drink in his hand. Grace sits down beside him.
“I know you don’t like the Van Eyck boys any more than we do,” She says quietly. “We’re planning on doing something about it, and we’d like you’re help.”
“I’m not planning on stopping you,” he responds, eyes still on his drink.
“This coven needs someone who’ll stand up for it,” Grace says, firmly but gently. “And we can help, but it can’t be just us.”
“I’m not like my father,” the sheriff’s tired eyes finally make contact with Grace’s intense gaze. “I don’t know that I have it in me.”
“Well, “ Grace says, smiling at him, “I think you do.”
The sheriff cracks a wry grin, and just for a second, a spark of light comes back into his eyes. Grace’s knack for inspiration strikes again.
“You just watch us,” she says. “We’ll show you how it’s done.”
“Show him how what’s done?” The voice is Maddie’s. There’s a hint of concern in her tone that implies that even if she doesn’t know exactly what we’re up to, she has a pretty good guess.
Sheriff McCreaty gets a worried look on his face. “She’s married to Jan Van Eyck,” I hear him whisper to Grace. “But she’s crazy over Bart.”
Grace pauses a moment, introduces herself, and then guides Maddie to a seat.
“Maddie, there are some of us who, to put it mildly, aren’t real fond of some of the things Bart Van Eyck’s been up to.”
A troubled look crosses Maddie’s face, and she avoids Grace’s gaze.
“I know he’s not all good, but...”Maddie struggles for words. I see Grace put a hand on Maddie’s shoulder, and see Maddie’s conflicted emotions reflected in Grace’s face. “He’s always been so warm to me.” Maddie finally continues. “Jan’s just been so distant lately, and Bart was always there.”
“And how does Jan feel about him?” Grace asks, her hand still on Maddie’s shoulder.
“They disagree,” Maddie says, “Jan argues with Bart and the others all the time. But, they’re still brothers.”
“Look,” Grace says, “I know this is hard for you, but things can get better. It hurts, but sometimes people just grow apart. Sometimes that just happens. Jan may not be the right man for you anymore. But, one thing I know for sure. Bart isn’t either.”
I can see from the look on Maddie’s face that Grace is getting through to her.
“So, don’t sell yourself short.” Grace continues. “You’re worth a lot more than that.”
Maddie smiles, and walks away. Grace rejoins us, looking drained but confident.
“I’m pretty sure I got through to her,” Grace says with a smile.
“I think you did,” I respond, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Grace, your something else.”
“You know,” the sheriff says after a thoughtful moment. “You might want to talk to Doc. When he’s not too deep in his cups, he’s not a bad shot. He might want in on this.”
“Okay, we’ll talk to him.” Grace agrees. “Any idea where he is?”
No sooner had the question left her lips than the doors to the saloon swung open.
“Right behind you,” The sheriff says, gesturing with the drink in his hand.
“And what can I do for you, Sheriff?” The doctor notices the gesture, and saunters over to the table.
These fine folks would like to have a word with you,” the sheriff says, Doc sits down, and Grace explains the situation.
“This place could use a little cleaning up,” Doc Henry says, leaning back in his chair. “And you’ll have some time to plan. Bart Van Eyck loaded up his crew and headed to the next coven over. They won’t be back until sometime tomorrow.”
A thoughtful look crosses Grace’s face.
“Do you know if any of them stayed here?”
“Well,” Doc Henry says with a smile, “ I think one of them stuck around. He’s probably hanging out at Bart’s house.”
“I think it’d be a good idea to have a little talk with him,” Grace says, “But first, Doc, I’d like to have a chat with you.”
“It’d be my pleasure,” Doc Henry smiles. “How would you feel about a friendly game of poker?”
Grace laughs. “Never tried it. But, I’m a quick learner.”
Doc Henry leads Grace to a table off in the corner. Frac and Mercury head outside. I spend a few uncomfortable moments sitting with Kassandra, and then decide to follow Fractal and Mercury.
I walk out into the street and hear their voices drifting from the roof of the inn. A quick glance reveals a ladder on the side of the building, and I climb up.
“I’d just feel more comfortable if I were down there with them to give them some cover fire,” I hear Frac say.
I smile to myself. He doesn’t need to worry about me (and probably not Grace, either), but he doesn’t know that. And, actually, I find it kind of sweet that he’s so concerned about us.
“Hey, guys,” I announce myself as I reach the top of the ladder.
“Hi, Delilah,” Mercury says. “We were just discussing strategy for tomorrow. Since you and Grace fight close-up, we were going to put you over there,” he points to an alley near the gate to the coven. “And Grace on the other side,” he gestures to the opposite corridor.
“Okay,” I nod. The tactic seems sound to me.
“They’ll come in through the gate, and you two should hit them from behind.” Frac confirms my theory. I nod again.
“Frac will be down there with you,” Mercury smiles. “He wanted to keep an eye on you and Grace.”
Frac blushes, and for a moment I think he might actually hit Mercury out of sheer embarrassment. I smile, and try to look as if I don’t get it.
“Hello, Kassandra,” Mercury continues. I sigh quietly. At least I’m not alone with her this time. “I was thinking this roof would be a good place for you, since you picked up those firearms glyphs.”
“Whatever you need me to do,” Kassandra’s voice is cold and unfeeling. She fixes dead eyes on Mercury. I shudder, and wish again I had any clue what we’re supposed to do for her.
I see a shadow of what I’m feeling float over Mercury and Frac’s faces.
“Grace should be about done with her talk with the Doc,” Mercury suggests. “I’d really like to have a talk with those judicators again,”
“And then the Van Eyck goon that’s still in town,” Frac grimaces.
And, so, we climb down off the roof and head back into the saloon. We find Grace and Doc Henry still sitting where I left them. I giggle when I see the sheepish look on Doc Henry’s face, and the pile of atma chips in front of Grace. Either he’s letting her win, or she’s even luckier and quicker to pick things up than I thought. Either way, it’s pretty funny.
“Welcome back,” Grace smiles at us. “Good news. Doc here has agreed to help us out tomorrow.”
Grace rises, and with some parting pleasantries to Doc Henry, we’re on our way. At Mercury’s suggestion, we pay the judicators a visit. For once, we let Mercury do the talking. They agree to look the other way, if not directly help. One less thing to worry about.
As we’re stepping out into the street to head to the Van Eyck place, we hear shots ring out from that direction.
We take off at a run, unsure of what we find. When we reach the house, the door is open, so we let ourselves in.
“Jan Van Eyck!” Grace calls out. “Are you in here?”
We walk a few steps further in before we hear a reply.
“I’m here,” the voice comes from the living room. We find Jan Van Eyck standing over a body, holding a literal smoking gun.
“Billy Clanton,” Van Eyck explains. “We had a bit of a disagreement. He got upset, and drew on me.”
We eye him skeptically.
“You won’t mind, then, if I take your gun to get it analyzed?” Frac asks, holding out his hand.
“Of course not,” Van Eyck smiles, handing the firearm over. He notices Fractal eying Clanton’s gun. “And feel free to take his as well.”
As Frac does so, I notice him look at the gun, and then glance quickly at the walls. He stands up after carefully storing the weapon, and whispers something to Grace.
“I know you’ve been through a pretty rough experience, Mr. Van Eyck,” Fractal says calmly. As he’s talking, I see Grace walk over, touch Clanton’s body, and go pale. She stands up, mumbles something about not being used to things like this, and stumbles outside. Frac follows her. I try to catch their eye, but get no response. I decide I’ll give them some space and let Frac handle this one.
Van Eyck strikes up what at first appears to be a pointless conversation with Mercury. A little religion, a little philosophy. Nothing really catches my ear until I hear Van Eyck ask
“Have you ever wondered what life would be like without Icons?”
The question is directed at Mercury, but I would swear I saw Van Eyck glance at me when he asked it. Perhaps later I can answer that question for the others, but for now, I’m so shaken I’d better keep my mouth shut.
Grace and Frac come back in. I notice Frac take a glance at the window, and then he addresses Van Eyck.
“Actually, if you wouldn’t mind staying here, my friends and I will run and get the sheriff.”
We follow Frac outside, but instead of heading to the Sheriff’s place, he walks across the street.
“Clanton’s gun was never fired,” he explains to the rest of us. “And we heard two shots. There’s a bullet hole in the window.”
Mercury and Fractal go inside, while Grace and Kassandra and I stand watch. After what feels like an eternity, I hear Frac and Mercury coming back out the door.
“You need to run,” Kassandra directs me. Before I can even ask to where, I hear Frac say “It’s Maddie...”
I run as fast and hard as I can to the Sheriff’s place. As I approach, I see an odd orange glow surrounding the building. When I get closer, I realize the whole building is in flames. And Sheriff McCreaty was still sitting on the porch, passed out drunk. I wake him up, and drag him away, ignoring his feeble attempts at excuses. A few moments later, and he’d have been a goner.
I make my way back to where the others are waiting, Sheriff McCreaty in tow, yelling “fire” as loud as I can on the way. When we get to Van Eyck’s house, we find the others in Van Eyke’s office. I look around in horror. The walls are covered with scrawled writing, the place is a wreck, and Van Eyke’s body is lying on the floor, the skin on his face gone. As I look from Grace to Mercury to Frac, I realize they aren’t seeing what I am.
“He was Mahama,” Grace says quietly.
“I should have seen this coming,” I say. “The imagery in those messages...” I stop for a moment.
“You aren’t seeing what I am, are you?” They look at me blankly.
“The writing,” I give an example. “Do you see it on the walls?”
“It was there, but it went away when we killed Van Eyck,” Mercury says, confusedly.
“No, it didn’t.” I answer. I see a startled look cross their faces as they see the room as it really is. “Mahama is the Lord of Illusion,” I remind them.
We stand there for a few moments, collecting our thoughts. The quiet is broken by the now familiar sound of Mahama’s laughter. We find ourselves caught in a dream world, which... I may go into later, but not now. Suffice it to say, it was strange, but also oddly pleasant. And it left Grace and I with a bit to talk about. We manage to find our way out of the dream, but I’m pretty certain we haven’t seen the last of Mahama.
