A Visit From an Old (New?) Enemy

After several minutes of trying to sort things out in my head, I felt a change in the atmosphere of this place. Even though I can’t feel temperature changes, I could feel the chill that descended on the clearing as a being stepped from the surrounding forest and cast a long, deep shadow.

Papa Locks.

The leaves of the tree whispered in the whipping winds.

I stood up and began picking my way through the tangled roots towards the edge of the canopy.

Papa Locks made his way towards the tree.

We met in at the very edge of the canopy. Only his shadow fell across the threshold of the tree’s reach.

“Locks, what are you doing here?”

His tall frame towered over me. His dark cloak blew in the wind, but his hood remained in place. He was wearing heavy boots, dark trousers and a tunic-like shirt that was tucked into a large, black leather belt with a heavy brass buckle. His frame was thinner than I remembered. He brought his arms up to his chest, folding them as he stood there staring at me. His hands were covered in long black gauntlets. No part of his skin was visible.

He spoke in that same deep Haitian-accented rumble that he had always used when he finally answered me. “I am looking for you, Bones.”

“Why?”

His head tilted back as he let forth a hearty laugh. “Because, Bones, you have something that I want.”

My hands were down at my side, clenched in anger. I made a special effort to open my fists and work my fingers. I had the feeling that I would need to use them soon. “I’m not prepared to give you anything that I have, Locks. I would strongly recommend that you return to your new owners and forget how you found me.”

He shook his head back and forth. “I’m not going to do that, Bones, not until you give me what I want.”

My right hand began to creep up my side towards my shoulder, where Excalibur waited. “Just what is it that you want, then?”

He uncrossed his arms and held his hands out in front of him. “Keep your shiny blade sheathed, Bones. I don’t think you will actually miss what it is that I have come for.”

I stopped my hand about waist high, but did not drop it. I knew that I could draw the blade and strike him down before he could draw any weapons on me. I was also reasonably confident that whatever power he had over Spirits would be of little use against the Darkness that already resided within me. He had been killed before I met Ma Grendel.

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve come for Drake. Give him to me.”

I was taken aback at that. “What do you mean? Drake’s dead. Didn’t El Diablito fill you in on that front since you’ve come back?”

A rumbling chuckle leaked forth from beneath the hood. “Yes, I know that Drake’s body has been taken by his father. I also know that you possess a token with his Spirit contained within it. That is what I have come for, Bones. Give it to me and you will be done with him forever.”

I had to admit that I did at least consider agreeing to his request. Drake was a pain in the ass and there was a certain amount of justice in the idea that I pass the jerk into the hands of one of his former minions.

“OK, even if I did admit to knowing what you are talking about, why would I do that, Locks? Why would I turn over the Spirit of one of my greatest enemies to another enemy, who is himself newly risen from the dead?”

“Stop playing games, Bones. We both know that you have Drake’s Spirit with you right now. I want him for my own purposes, which are none of your concern.”

I shook my head this time. “That’s not good enough. You’ve got a shit load of convincing to do before I’ll even entertain the notion of giving him up. What are you up to? Why shouldn’t I just strike you down right here and be done with you?”

He crossed his arms again. “When my Spirit roamed the worlds, I learned things. I know things about those creatures that I doubt Drake has revealed to you yet. I know what it is that you face. I also know what it is that you’ve become.”

“And just what is that?”

“Drashe’en.”

Hearing that word come from him caught me by total surprise. “What did you just say?”

“I know that your Spirit has been meshed with that of a Drashe’en. I know that you have somehow made yourself into that which the An’girasii fear the most. You have the soul of a Man, but the power and strength of a Drashe’en. You are a marked man, Bones. The An’girasii will not be able to ignore you for long. Once they learn that you have all of Drake’s knowledge at your disposal, you will find no safe haven from their minions.”

“How the fuck do you know all of this, Locks?”

He threw his head back and laughed again. “Bones, you may have the essence of a Drashe’en within you, but you are still that naïve local cop at heart. You are but a babe in this realm of Spirits and Magick, of Angels and Demons. I have made a lifetime of study in this realm. No matter how much Drake thought of you, you will never be up to the tasks that will be required of you. Give Drake to me. I will make him give me the knowledge of how to destroy the An’girasii. I will share that knowledge with you and your allies. We can join forces and destroy them once and for all.” He had moved forward as he spoke until he was right outside of the edge of the canopy of Yggsdrasil, but he stopped short of crossing that threshold.

I reached up with my left hand and touched the ring that dangled from its chain around my neck. I pulled it out from underneath my shirt to let it hang in full view. “How can I trust that you are actually Papa Locks? How can I trust you even if you are who you appear to be? How do I know that you aren’t one of the An’girasii or one of their servants?”

He stood silently as I took a big step backwards, so that he would have to come well under the canopy of the tree, something which he seemed unwilling to do. I used my left hand to pull the chain that held the ring over my head. I reached up and placed the chain over one of the lower hanging branches and over a clump of fluttering leaves.

The wind had really picked up. I hadn’t noticed it before as we spoke, but the branches of the tree and our clothes were being whipped about by the howling, swirling winds. We were at the center of a maelstrom.

My words were barely audible over the rustle of the leaves and the creaking of the branches. As I spoke, I noticed that the one branch that remained motionless in this whole mess was the one from which Drake hung motionless and unaffected.

“If you want him so bad, Locks-or whoever the Hell else you are, come and get him for yourself.”

It looked like he was trying to walk into the zone defined by the canopy, but he couldn’t push through. He reached out one grasping hand as the winds picked up even higher speeds, pushing him back even further.

“Don’t be such a fool Bones! Give him to me! I will have him!”

His voice grew fainter and fainter as his body became slightly translucent and was pushed farther and farther back.

“You are doomed, Drashe’en!”
With that last echoing cry, he was gone. Just as quickly as they had come, the winds died down.

All was quiet, except for the chuckling rustle of the leaves of Yggsdrasil. I shook my head in disbelief as I reached up and picked the necklace off the branch and balled the chain up in my closed fist.

“Fuck. There was my chance to get rid of your dumb ass, Drake. But it looks like you and I have some more talking to do.”

A Visit From an Old Friend

I emerged from the Shadow into the forest surrounding the clearing where Yggsdrasil stood. Since I was in my actual physical form as opposed to my Spirit form, the path did not form for me as it normally would have.

I couldn’t remember the last time that I had come to this place in body as well as soul, but I felt a niggling little pull in the back of my consciousness that told me that it was time to come here. Traveling in this manner was the lazy way of accomplishing the task since it didn’t require any meditation.

I picked my way through the dark, gloomy forest, crunching heavily through the thick, dry underbrush. The forest seemed to resent my intrusion. Every low lying branch hung an inch or two lower than I thought, each root cluster standing an inch or two taller than it looked. But despite the obstacles, I pushed through and emerged into the clearing that John Red Bear had first introduced me to in his earliest instruction. Of course, I had since planted the seed that had grown into the massive black tree that now stood sentinel in the middle of the clearing.

Its massive, gnarled trunk would have required the interlocked arms of ten men to cover its entire circumference. Its enormous crown of leaves whispered in the breezes of this place, sometimes forming words that could be understood when the tree wanted to be understood, but the strangest thing about those leaves was their color. The top side of each leaf was black as the darkest, moonless night, while the bottom side of each leaf was milky white. I had found fallen leaves with the faces of people I knew etched on the white sides. The thick, gnarled root clusters spread from the trunk of the tree in every direction rising up high enough in more than one place to become impromptu benches where I, and others, could sit under the canopy. On the far side of the trunk there was a small, dark opening where the roots of tree parted to reveal a stairwell down to a cavern where a reflecting pool had formed. That part was always the same, the cavern was always on the opposite side of the tree from where I entered the clearing, no matter which direction I came from.

Sitting on its haunches amidst the roots near the trunk of the tree was the brown form of an enormous bear, a bear with a splotch of red fur on its front, left shoulder.

“John? Is that you old friend?” I almost ran as I called out towards the creature.

The massive head of the creature turned to face me, its mouth curling into a snarl that become a smile as his form shifted from that of the bear to a near-human form the glowed with an internal radiance. John raised his right hand in greeting as I approached.

“Jason!” He looked around him, pointedly glancing at the tree trunk and the canopy of black and white rustling leaves. “I see that you have seen fit to redecorate our old meeting place. I must say that I’m rather impressed.”

I reached out to take hold of his glowing hand in mine, noting the stark contrast of light and darkness as he pulled me into a fierce hug.

I shrugged as we pulled apart. “I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.”

He laughed. His smiling face was now free of the lines of premature aging that had once marked it. “That is not unusual in this place. Take care in this place, for all actions taken here are likely to bring about consequences that you didn’t intend.”

“Yeah, so I’ve noticed. Now instead of a quiet place of contemplation, I get a grumpy tree that likes to laugh at me and gives all sorts of cryptic advice.”

The rustling of the leaves grew louder, as if in complaint at my characterization of it, but nothing intelligible was discernible. Probably just as well.

“The Tree is a reflection of its creator, Jason. There is much for you to learn from it, however.” He pointed to a cluster of roots that was tall and long enough for both of us to easily sit. “But I called you here today to speak about other things.”

“So it was you who called to me!”

He nodded. “I have wanted to speak with you for a long time now, but I haven’t been able to get back to this place until now.”

“I would have thought that you travels through the many worlds would have taken you far from this place, John. Frankly, I’m surprised that you’ve come back at all. I’m glad you have though, because I’ve missed our lessons.”

He nodded as he looked directly into my own eyes. I felt as if he could see everything about who and what I had become since we had last spoken. I wanted to tell him about it, but speaking seemed so frivolous, so unnecessary.

“Jason, I can see that you have become far more than I ever could have imagined. I have watched as you have battled first to regain your humanity and then to become…more than human. I cried when I saw you fall to that foul creature of darkness beneath New York.

“I rejoiced to see you return and come to grips with the changes that were brought about by that experience. I wanted so badly to warn you from trying to free the creature that you know as Dracaar, but I was not permitted to interfere.”

“What do you mean that you weren’t permitted? If I had really known what it was that we were trying to do, what it was that was being freed from that damn urn, I would have taken it far, far away from our world and left it to rot.”

A single glistening, radiant tear fell down his right cheek. “I know, Jason. But as I said, I was not allowed to interfere, to help you in any way at that time.” He held up a hand to stay my next question. “I cannot discuss who prevented me, or I why I wasn’t allowed to help. It must suffice for me to say that I was simply not permitted to intervene. What is important is that the deed has been done and that it cannot, now, be undone.

“Dracaar was going to be released, by you or someone else, but it was critical for you know this new foe and for you to have access to information that would allow you and your allies to have a chance to face him and his ilk. It was crucial for you to see the nature of your true enemies.”

“Well, I’ve certainly seen that these damn creatures need to be defeated. But I have no clue how I am to do it. I had trouble facing one of their damn servants!”

He looked down at the mass of roots spread out beneath us. “Yes, the doppelganger in South Beach. You did better with the second one, but you were right in your assessment that the one in Detroit was weaker. You have made yourself known with that killing. The An’girasii will not take the slaying of one of their valuable servants lightly. That is one of the reasons I called you here.”

“Are you going to give me some clues as to how to kill these things?”

He shook his head at that. “No, that touches on other things of which I am not permitted to speak. However, I can tell you that have access to all of the clues that will lead you to find a way to stave off defeat at their hands, if only temporarily.” He reached out and touched me on the chest with his right hand and then waved up at the canopy of leaves and the tree trunk behind us. “Just as you carried within you the seed to plant this magnificent tree, your seed has been used to give birth to the one person who can bring about the final defeat of the An’girasii.”

I sat back. “Alexa?”

He nodded. “Yes. Only she can now bring about their total defeat, though the costs may be higher than even she may be able to bear. But while only Alexa can trigger the keys to final victory over the An’girasii and their minions, she will never be permitted that chance unless you and the ORC’s first find those keys and get them to her, all while protecting her from them.”

I shook my own head. “How can the fate of the world rest in the hands of toddler? How can all that pressure rest on the head and shoulders of any one person period?”

He raised his hand to stop my questions. “It has taken extreme efforts over many millennia by secret allies that I cannot reveal to bring about this one chance.”

“You mean there are ‘secret allies’ out there that have been running this show? Why can’t these assholes, whoever the Hell they are, step in give us some real damn assistance? John, can’t you help me to understand this?”

A second tear rolled down his cheek. “I can only say that there are Laws that prevent these allies from providing any of the direct assistance that you are asking for.”

I threw up my hands. “What the Hell is it with all of these damn ‘laws’? I was a cop and am now and FBI agent. I don’t know of any damn ‘laws’ that would affect this shit! Drake keeps talking about ‘laws’ that the An’girasii have to live by, and that damn elf queen, the Lady of the Lake or whatever the Hell she was, mentioned stuff about ‘laws’ too.”

He laid a hand on my leg. “Jason. I know this all seems so foreign and strange to you now. When I was alive, I was not aware of any of this myself. It is only in the traveling that I have done since my death, and the knowledge that I have gained in those travels, that has given me the perspective I now have. Please understand that the people you have just mentioned have already provided you some of the clues that you will need in order to have a chance at helping Alexa succeed in achieving her mission. Drake is with you for a reason. He holds answers that no one else possesses about the An’girasii.” He brought his hand to tap me on the chest. “Drake has answers about who, and what, you have become. Listen for those clues in what he has to say and perhaps you will find the strength to do what must be done.”

He looked away from me as I sat in stunned silence.

“You have time yet, to seek those clues. The An’girasii are just beginning to emerge again and will take some time yet to gather their strength. They have yet to understand your true significance and the significance of Alexa. Luckily, they also have a disdain for human technology and methods of communication or the telling of this story as you have been until now could be disastrous.”

“Oh shit. Should I stop blogging about this stuff?”

John shook his head again and looked me in the eyes. “No. It is part of what keeps you in touch with your humanity. And it is that which will enable you to face the coming challenges with a chance to succeed. If you lose touch with your humanity, then all hope is lost.”

John stood up. The glow within him grew brighter, his body more translucent. “Jason, I must take my leave.”

I stood up as well. “Will I see you again, John?”

His face looked very somber. “Perhaps. If given the opportunity, I will gladly visit with you again, but that may not be for me to decide.”

I reached out to touch him as his body continued to grow brighter and more transparent. He took my hand in a grasp that was warm and strong. I could feel energy flowing from him as it entered into my own Spirit, filling me with joy and peace as he flashed brighter and faded away.

The whispering of the leaves reflected a sadness that I shared as I sat down again to think on all that was said.

Drake's Tale--#3

It appears that my rather unreliable ‘host’ has finally permitted me to tell my story again. Given his track record, I am going to make the most of this opportunity. Please pardon the length of this post, but this information that will be needed if he and his allies are to have even a prayer of success in this endeavor.

Some of this tale has been mentioned previously, although others have spun the tale to suit their needs, instead of mine. You may rest assured that what I have to say is in fact The Truth.

In my youth, I was seen as the defective child. I had no visible manifestation of the power of the An’girasii running through me like Sorud and Nehmad did. In addition to their powers, they also had the physical stature that allowed them to dominate the normal humans around them, while I was seen as small even by the standards of the people of my home city of Ur.

When it was established that I would never grow out of my puny stature, I was ignored by my father. He also ordered my brothers to ignore me as well, stating that I was not worth their time or attention.

So as my brothers were personally tutored by Dracaar in how to harness their abilities and in the arts of war, I was left to my own devices. I spent my time learning how to be come invisible. I was not invisible in any kind of magickal sense, mind you, but invisible in the way that servants and slaves are invisible around their masters. Such folk are taught early on to keep to the sides, remain silent unless spoken to, and to be properly deferential at all times, head bowed, as they move from task to task, always keeping busy with some little task or another. Following those guidelines, slaves can slip in and out of the most private moments of their masters without being consciously noticed.

It was during a number of those private moments between Dracaar and my brothers that I learned of the true nature of the An’girasii. He spoke to them at such times in the harsh, foreign tongue of the An’girasii, a language I had heard previously only in my dreams, but I found that I somehow understood what was being said.

As I listened to him tell the stories of Creation and Destruction from the An’girasii perspective, I began to understand that Dracaar was not alone, but was instead one of at least several dozen other such beings who had come to this world with the goal to rule over it as gods.

Indeed, many of the names of other such entities that Dracaar told my brothers about, were names of myth and legend that the people of Ur worshipped as Gods, or feared as Demons.

Here is a snippet of one particularly interesting lesson:

Sorud: “Father, these people are so weak! Why must we live among them as we do? Why can’t we set ourselves apart as some of the others have done and just be worshipped as is our right?”

Dracaar: “That is a very good question, son. Each of the others, including Tiamat, has lived amongst these weak humans just as we ourselves are doing now. In other worlds, other places, we have come and conquered or ruled without having to live amongst the lesser beings that inhabit those places, however this world, this place is different. This is a world of flesh and bone. In order for our full powers to manifest here in this place, we must be born of flesh to a creature that is native to this place. That is why your mother, as strong as she is, is still human.”

Nehmad: “Is that why Sorud and I have to train so hard to come into our full strength, because we were born of a human mother?”

Dracaar: “Indeed. It is no small or easy thing, even for the Spirit of an An’girasii to access its full array of powers and memories once it is born into the flesh, as you two have so recently been. There is something about this world and the laws that bind it that prevents almost all Spirits, even those of us who are so much stronger than humans, from having access to the full knowledge of who and what they truly are.”

Sorud: “So both Nehmad and I are of the same order as you?”

Dracaar: “Yes. Both of you are strong An’girasii Spirits. Once you have learned how to fully manifest yourselves, you will come to realize your true nature and take your rightful place amongst us.”

Nehmad: “Father, what of our younger brother…”

Dracaar: “Shush Nehmad. His name is not to be spoken of in our language. His Spirit is weak and puny. He is not of our kind. Something went terribly wrong with him. Your mother’s human weakness must have allowed for a lesser Spirit to come during our coupling. He is not your brother. He is a human.” That last word was spit out like it was an insult.

Sorud: “So why was it allowed to live? Why don’t we kill him so that our name is not associated with something so weak?”

Dracaar: He laughed before responding, a deep, chilling laugh. “Ah Sorud, you are coming into your own. It will not be long now before you Awaken to your true self. But let me answer this question. When a child is first born, the connection between the Spirit and the flesh is not as strong as it will become over time. It is not immediately apparent with young babies in this world just what kind of Spirit has attached itself to body of the baby. For that reason, some patience is required. When that child was born, the body was small and puny, but the Spirit was strong and bright. I had great hopes that one of my ancient brethren had come through the Veil that separates our native world from this one. But while his Spirit showed strength and vitality for an infant, it never developed beyond the initial promise that he had showed. Instead, as he grew into childhood, his Spirit seemed to diminish even further, changing in ways that I had never before seen, even for a human. Once it was clear to me that he was not one of us, I resolved to study him for my own purposes. Once I have learned all that I can from him, he shall be sent to his death.”

Nehmad: “Will you give him to us, father? Can we slay him?”

Dracaar: “No. That is something that I cannot risk. As much as I believe that he is not of the An’girasii, there are laws that may not be broken. His death will have to be at the hands of others. Have no fear. There are no laws of any consequence that prevent humans from killing each other. In fact, it is something that humans are very good at. They can be made to kill each other with very little incentive.”

Sorud: “What laws prevent us from killing each other, father?”

Dracaar: “When you come through your Awakening, these things will be known to you. But it is good to discuss them now so that you don’t violate the law unwittingly. You must never slay another An’girasii.”

Sorud: “Why not? Haven’t you been teaching us that we are Immortal spirits, that if this body is slain that we will be able to take over another at our leisure?”

Dracaar: “Yes. All of that is true. But if you have not gone through your Awakening, you will have to be born again into the body of another human child. Once you have been Awakened, you will have the ability to take on the body of any living creature near you and modify that one to suit your needs. However, if one An’girasii slays another, things are different. A struggle between two of us not merely a struggle of flesh of bone, but of Power and Spirit as well. We are a primal race. If one An’girasii were to slay another, terrible things happen, the Spirits of both entities merge and change, becoming something dark and chaotic. The name we have for those creatures that survive such an event the Drashe’en—the Fallen. If you fail to honor the law and become Drashe’en, there is no return. There is only hunger and pain, suffering and loss.”

Nehmad: “Are there Drashe’en here in this world?”

Dracaar: “Yes. There are a few. We must always keep a vigilant eye out for them, for they are among the greatest dangers we face.”

Sorud: “How can the Drashe’en be stopped then, father? Can we slay them without suffering the same fate?”

Dracaar: “There are ways of dealing with the Drashe’en, but you will not be able to understand them until you have gone through your Awakening. Now, let us go train with our weapons, soon it will be time to test you in battle.”

The Shadow

Dancing between Light and Dark, it is neither Life nor Death, but the thin line between.

Illusory

Ever present

Hollow

Ordinary

Fleet

The flitting Shadow beckons, always near, yet never to be caught.


Hovering amongst Dreams and Nightmares, stoking Hope and fueling Fear.

Dangerous

Simple

Silent

Mysterious

Ambivalent

The Shadow serves, but the wary Master guards against deceit.


Doubting both Faith and Reason, it harbors neither Love nor Hate.

Lonely

Voracious

Irksome

Magnificent

Fractious

The Shadow seeks those that Tremble and breaks those who Dare.

I, Zombie

I am Rusty Bones.

I am a being of the Shadow.

I walk between Light and Dark. I am of neither, at home with both.

My body is that of a zombie, of flesh and bone that once lived, of machine and magick that brought it back. My Spirit is free, though once it was trapped.

I gather the Shadow as my Mantle, my Shroud, so that I may stand vigil over the innocent.

I am Death incarnate.

I am Rusty Bones.

Enemies Mine...The Clean-up

As soon as Papa Locks’ portal closed up, a collective sigh of relief was released by my three companions.

Jim’s face turned a pale shade of green as he looked about the room for a garbage can. When he spotted it, he grabbed the thing and hobbled out of the room, mumbling something about coming back in a few minutes.

Ravyn shot a look of concern Jim’s way, but decided that he preferred to be alone, so she pulled out a chair and sat down. “I can’t believe that Papa Locks is back! How did they manage that? Cerrydwen is not going to be happy at all when she learns about this.”

I grabbed the head of the doppelganger from where I had last placed it and then walked over to where the hand was laying on the floor. I knelt down to pick that up as well. “You know, I don’t know why I didn’t think of the possibility of his return previously. He was a very powerful priest in his own right, and it just makes sense that they would have taken some sort of precautions to be able to bring themselves back from the dead if they were going to do it for the local cops like me who they had snared into the Project.”

Zenny reached down to the table and picked up the Soulscope that she had placed on it to show El Diablito. “Rusty, it seemed like you were the only one in the room who knew what was going on. This encounter didn’t go anything like we expected. How did you know they would back down like that?”

I shook my head as I dropped the head and the hand of the doppelganger next to the main carcass. “I had no idea that Papa Locks would be here, or even that Chandler was a doppelganger until he led us out of that elevator. Something about the way he moved and the way he noticed me looking at him in the Shadowland reminded me of the doppelganger on South Beach, although I don’t think this one was as strong as the other one. As to knowing that they would back down like that, I didn’t. Once I saw how shocked they were that Chandler wasn’t who he said he was, I took the bit in my mouth and bluffed like I had never bluffed before.”

Zenny cocked her head. “Bluffed? What does that mean?”

I grinned. “It is sort of like pretending to be in stronger position than you really are. It is something you do a lot in a casino like this. I used to play a lot of poker when I was alive.”

Slightly less green about the gills than he was, Jim limped back into the room, making a point of not looking at the still smoldering body on the floor. “Well from what I saw Rusty, you might have a future in playing poker again. I was pretty impressed by how you handled that after the surprise of the…creature.”

Ravyn got up impatiently and walked over to Jim, showing him to a seat where the body wasn’t in view. “So how could you tell that the butler was a doppelganger Rusty? If these things serve the An’girasii, then we are going to need to know how to spot them in the future. You won’t always be around to deal with them for us.”

“Well, first I noticed how calm the guy was down in the lobby when he was waiting for us. He seemed to be keeping himself supernaturally still, and then kind of came alive when he noticed us approaching. I’m sure Chandler was a very good butler, someone who had a cool, calm demeanor, but I don’t know too many humans who can keep themselves that calm.

“Second, in the elevator, I noticed how he moved. The first doppelganger that I met in South Beach was super fast. It moved way faster than I ever could, unless I was using magick of some sort to enhance my speed. In the elevator, the butler moved with such speed and grace that I began to have my doubts at that point. That’s when I slipped into the Shadowland to take a glance at his Spirit form. His Spirit form reflected a sense of power and calmness that I didn’t quite think was appropriate for a human. What sealed the deal though was when he gave me a slight nod of acknowledge in the Shadowland, like he sensed me looking at him there. I have yet to meet a normal human being who can sense things simultaneously in both the physical world and the Shadowland and distinguish between the two places. I knew then that he was either a very powerful Caster or something else.

“The final straw was when he exited the elevator and didn’t touch anyone as he slipped past all of us to get ahead again. That was simply inhuman. I’m betting that at least some of these creatures only have the power to fool human sight, but not the sense of touch. I think the doppelganger in South Beach was stronger, that it could fool other senses, but not this one. That’s probably why he chose to impersonate a servant who would not be required to get that close to anyone else—he had a reason to keep his distance from other people.

“It will be very hard to distinguish these creatures from the people they are trying to impersonate. Agent Wilson and her crew will be taking the body back to Quantico and conducting an autopsy of it in the hopes of discovering some of their secrets.”

Agent Jennifer Wilson walked through door to the room just as I mentioned her name. She was followed by several agents in bio-hazard suits, two of whom were carrying a stretcher sheathed in a plastic of some sort.

She glanced at the corpse on the floor, wrinkled her nose at the smell of things and started giving orders to her team to gather up the body. A second crew followed the first, this crew pushing a cart with all sorts of bottles filled with liquid and various cleaning tools. She put those folks to work cleaning up all of the droplets and puddles of liquid that I had helped to create.

“I want this room roped off until we’ve got the task done. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get this done in good time.”

Once she had finished giving her orders and the body had been flipped onto the stretcher and the other parts collected and covered, Agent Wilson let her guard down a bit as she gave Ravyn a big hug. “It’s been too long Mistress Fyre.”

“Oh, stop that. Call me Ravyn. You aren’t my student any longer. So you’re leading a team now, I see.”

Agent Wilson stood slightly taller than the diminutive Ravyn, but it was almost like she still looked up to her. “Yeah, this team was Rusty’s idea, actually. He pulled some strings at HQ to let me form a special response team. Each of the team members has some measure of Talent that most of them were unaware of until I tested them using those techniques you had taught me back at the Coop. I’ve been bringing them along slowly, showing them evidence from our files that had been previously disregarded as unexplainable or as anomalies. I was just about to give you a call actually, before Rusty gave me the heads-up to show up here with the team.”

“Oh, what about?”

“I was wondering if we could set up a sort of intern program with you at the Coop. I’d like some of these agents to really hone the Talents they have, some of them could become decent Casters, if they had the training. It might also help you out to have a couple of agents in residence, in case more creatures like this thing come calling.”

I walked over to them. “That sounds like a good idea, actually. By the way Jennifer, what have you decided to call the team?”

She grinned and looked down at her feet sheepishly. “Zulu recommended that I call it the Omega Team.”

That brought a groan from my lips. “It figures. Well, why not use the designation for something positive?”

Jim stood up now that the body had been removed. He was close to his normal color again. “Well, that might be a good idea for the Coop. However, I would have to see whether or not we could increase the budget to allow for the extra expenses.”

Jennifer shook her head. “No worries there, Sir. If Ravyn agrees to host the agents, I’ve been given the green light to authorize a per diem expense at the going rate for the Chicago area for their living expenses, which should more than cover any expenses incurred by the extra agents in residence.”

Jim nodded. “Yeah, I think you are right. I don’t have any objection then. Do you, Ravyn?”

Ravyn shrugged. “I have no objection, so long as they know who the boss around there is! They can’t be any worse than this dumb zombie of ours is!”

Enemies Mine...Part 5

El Diablito’s eyes narrowed and his voice took on a harder edge as he looked from the red-faced Ravyn to Zenny. “Speaking of pets, is this Bernstein’s little pet? I’ve heard and read so much about her. I must say, I can see what drove him to distraction.”

Zenny stepped up from behind me, her own face a mask a barely hidden pain. “I am no one’s pet, you butcher. Your words cannot harm me any worse than others have already done with their deeds. I have found something you probably wish had remained lost to the sands of time.” She reached into a pocket and drew out the Soulscope. She placed it on the table with the stark Nazi swastika facing up.

El Diablito sat back in obvious shock. “Wherever did you find that?”

I moved forward to the edge of the conference table, placing both hands on the edge and leaning onto it. “Let’s just say that we’ve been digging into your past, Dr. Klimm, and we’re not done yet.”

Dick Arnold finally recovered enough of his wits about him to glance up from the head of the doppelganger that still sat directly in front of him to El Diablito. “Lito, why do these crazy people keep calling you by this other name? Who is Dr. Klimm?”

The Professor finally made his way past the smoking corpse of the doppelganger, moving to Ravyn’s left side. He plopped his backpack on the table, reached in and pulled out a plain manila folder, less than half an inch thick. He tossed the folder to land just to the left of the head and its small pool of sizzling black liquid, on the other side of the head from El Diablito.

“Mr. Arnold, in that folder, you will find copies of the evidence to show that the man sitting at your side was previously known as Juergen Klimm, a German scientist during Hitler’s Third Reich. He is a wanted war criminal. The photos and articles inside that folder should be all the proof that you need that the man you have listed as D. B. Lito in all of your SEC filings for Bone Financial and the Mercury-Unlimited Group is a known and wanted war criminal. This information has not yet been made public, but additional copies of that folder are safely in the hands of those who will ensure that every major newspaper in America will have this information if anything should happen to us tonight. I don’t think your stock holders and investors will like the idea that the man known as the Zombie King in Nazi Germany is up to some of his old tricks with their money.”

El Diablito had recovered from his shock, his face taking on the expression of someone who was thinking hard to come up solutions to an unexpected problem.

During this whole exchange, Papa Locks had stood motionless between and slightly behind both of the sitting men. His arms were crossed, his face still obscured by the enormous hood of the cloak.

Dick Arnold’s expression became one of a businessman engaged in a serious negotiation. He licked his thin lips, intertwined his fingers and looked from the folder, still untouched, back up to Jim.

“So, what is it that you want from us? You obviously could have gone public with this information, but have chosen not to use it yet. Why not?”

That was my cue. I stood up straight again and nodded in El Diablito’s direction while looking Dick Arnold directly in the eyes. “We know who you have working for you.” I glanced up at Papa Locks. “And what you have been doing with his knowledge and expertise. We also know that Dr. Klimm here is building an organization of Caster’s of questionable ethics and character.” I strode down the length of the long table until I approached where the two men were sitting.

The guards behind them nervously fingered their weapons, trying to decide if I was posing a threat to their charges.

I got close enough to Dick Arnold to reach down and palm the top of the head of the doppelganger. In the same motion I picked the head up, droplets of acidic black ichor trailing across the table as I did so.

“As much as we’d like to dedicate the time and resources to putting you and your little undead factories out of business, there are greater enemies out there right now.”

I turned the head of the doppelganger so that I look into its vacant eyes for a moment before turning its dead gaze back on the lesser foes sitting before me.

“This creature, this doppelganger, is but a minor servant of an enemy of all of humanity that sees Casters like Dr. Klimm and Ravyn as threats to be eliminated so that they can take control easier. They see beings like myself, and now apparently Papa Locks, as well as any other undead you dumbasses have managed to create as possible tools to taken and used and discarded at will.

“Dick, you were surprised to see that your longtime manservant, Grimes, was actually a monster in disguise. How long do you think you have been making your plans in front of that servant, not knowing that he served another more powerful master? How many other such spies are around you?”

I brandished the head, letting the little droplets spray around as I did so. “These creatures can take any damn form that they want to, shifting their bodies and their Spirits to match the forms of the person they are killing. They can take your voice, your mannerisms, and enough of your memories to pass as you so well that your own mama wouldn’t know the difference. How much longer do you think you would have lived if this doppelganger had decided that he wanted to be you, instead of your poor servant?”

Dick Arnold sat back and gulped at the thought.

I wasn’t done yet, however. “We agreed to come here tonight to see you in the hopes of getting you to pay attention to the real enemy that we all are facing right now. The An’girasii have been awakened. They are taking stock of the world and gathering their forces.”

I slammed the head back down on the table for emphasis. It landed with a thick, wet splat, droplets spraying all over. Arnold and his guards jerked back in reaction to the spray.

“Finally, we are here to give you warning.” I leaned down and picked up the folder, now splotched and smoldering in a couple of spots. “We don’t expect a lot of help in facing this enemy from the likes you and your cronies, but if we think for one minute that you have decided to throw your lot in with that enemy, or you hinder us in any way—everything that you have built up, your fortune, your reputation, and your companies will all be destroyed without mercy.”

I was looming over Dick Arnold now, his guard having shrunk back in fear at the way I was moving and carrying myself. “And, Dickie boy, I will hunt you down like the dog that you are, and there is not a damn thing you, or any of your servants and stooges will be able to do to stop me. Do I make myself clear?”

His mouth was moving up and down again, but no intelligible sounds were coming out of it.

I turned my attention to El Diablito. He was trying to glare back at me with defiance, but it came across more like petulance.

“You and I have some unfinished business, Klimm. If we both survive the coming struggle against Drake’s ancient foes, you will have much to answer for. I am looking forward to that day. In the meantime, you had better keep a civil tongue in your head, or I’ll make time to deal with you sooner rather than later.”

Finally, I looked straight up into the darkness created by the hood of Papa Locks cloak. He stood unmoving, unimpressed.

“I’m not sorry to see you back, Locks. Now I’ll have that chance to settle my own score with you. But that too, can wait for now.”

I stepped back and made a dismissive wave with my left arm. “I would recommend that you all take your leave now. A team of specially trained investigators and field agents from the FBI will be here shortly. I don’t think it will be a good idea for you to be here when they arrive. The body stays.”

Papa Locks nodded. “I have taken my measure of you anew, Bones. You have grown into your powers impressively.” His laugh rumbled forth from his body again. “I am looking forward to our next encounter, it shall be most interesting.” His hood shifted slightly as he looked down as El Diablito and then Dick Arnold. “Come, my little friends. We have seen and heard enough tonight.”

His skeletal right hand emerged from within his cloak and drew on the power of the Shadow to create a portal. The guards were the first to step through, then El Diablito, his lips pursed in thought. Dick Arnold reached down and took the folder that had been given to him before he too stepped through.

Papa Locks was the last one left. He glanced back in my direction and raised his left hand in either a salute or a challenge. “Until we meet again, Bones.”