Part 11 (1/2)

A cannonball blow struck Reinhardt in the chest, and he staggered back, dropping Detlef.

The girl who had shot out of the dark on a chain rolled across the stage like an acrobat, and stood up. She had her teeth and claws out.

This was perfect. The Animus could achieve its purpose. Detlef and Genevieve were both here.

Detlef stood up. The Animus slammed Reinhardt's heavy elbow into his face, smas.h.i.+ng his nose, knocking him back against the canvas wall of Dr. Zhiekhill's laboratory. He shook his head, spreading blood around him like a dog drying itself, and tried to stand up.

The vampire came for him, and met a fist which sent even her reeling. Reinhardt had been strong, but with the Animus in his mind he was a superman.

Doors were opening in the auditorium, as people were alarmed by the noise. The company was arriving, and crowds were building up outside.

Genevieve scratched through his britches, drawing blood but doing no hurt.

The Animus brought up Reinhardt's knee against the vampire's chin, and shoved her across the stage.

Lights were streaming in.

The Animus came down hard on Genevieve, knee pinning her body. Reinhardt's hands went around her head.

Only silver or fire or a stake through the heart could truly kill a vampire. But having her head wrenched off wouldn't do her health any good.

The Animus twisted, feeling the vampire's strong neck muscles stretch, her bones draw apart. She had her overlapping teeth clenched but her lips drawn back. Her eyes were dots of fire.

Detlef was hammering on his shoulders, as pointlessly as a gnat might bother an ox.

The vampire's head would come off in a moment.

Detlef stepped back, giving the Animus the room to do his b.l.o.o.d.y business. Genevieve hissed through her teeth, and spat hate up at Reinhardt's mask.

'For the Great Enchanter,' the Animus said, 'Constant'

Something huge and heavy fell on Reinhardt, ropy limbs twisting around his body, hauling him backwards.

XX.

The Trapdoor Daemon had made his way across the ceiling, and dropped down onto the stage.

Reinhardt Jessner had gone mad. The way Eva Savinien had gone mad. Malvoisin did not understand, but he realized there was more to the story of Dr. Zhiekhill and Mr. Chaida than an old Kislevite fable. In a sense it was literally true. Something could bring out the Chaida in all men, and that something had afflicted Eva, and now Reinhardt.

He found uses for the limbs of his altered body, constricting Reinhardt's wrists to break his grip on Genevieve's neck. The vampire had shown him a moment of consideration and, for that, he owed her his loyalty.

Reinhardt left Genevieve and stood, turning around in the Trapdoor Daemon's grasp, chopping with his hands at the bases of his tentacles, thumping for the nerves.

The actor was strong, but his body was only human.

Out in the auditorium people were shouting.

A firebrand hurtled through the air, and landed nearby on the stage. Detlef was stamping it out, protesting.

'Look,' someone shouted. 'A monster.'

Yes, the Trapdoor Daemon thought, a monster. Help me fight the monster.

Reinhardt struggled furiously, cold like a machine, methodically trying to throw off Malvoisin.

'Kill the monster,' someone shouted.

A missile bounced off his hide, and Malvoisin realized who the shouters thought was the monster.

'Kill!'

Detlef was confused. Reinhardt had gone mad, and some creature of the depths was wrestling with him all over the stage.

He picked up Genevieve, and tried to get her to run. She was confused, but finally picked up her feet as they descended the steps into the auditorium.

There were actors there, and an officer of the watch, and strangers in from the street. Everyone was shouting. No one knew what was going on. Poppa Fritz was waving a lantern and shouting at the top of his voice.

Genevieve stumbled, but started pulling Detlef away from the stage, towards the exit. She wanted them to run.

Detlef looked back. Reinhardt wore the monster like a cloak now, but was free of its grip. With a flex of his shoulders, the actor shrugged the thing off, and threw it away. It landed with a wet thump, spreading out, and some people cheered.

Reinhardt walked forwards, and stepped off the stage, falling six feet but landing perfectly. He stood up straight, and kept walking, wading through bolted-to-the-floor seats as if the stalls were a wheat-field.

The people started quieting down as Reinhardt's legs crushed through solid wood and upholstery.

The watchman was in the way. Reinhardt smashed his chest with a sideswipe, and b.l.o.o.d.y foam came from his mouth and nose as he went down, coughing.

Gene was tugging him.

'It's after us,' she said, 'and it won't give up.'

Reinhardt had said something about Drachenfels.

'Is it him? Come back?'

Genevieve spat. 'No, he's in h.e.l.l. But he sent something back to fetch us there.'

'Ulric's teeth!'

Reinhardt tore the arm off a man, and tossed it aside, walking calmly through the fountain of blood. He was turned into a golem of force, unstoppable, single-minded, unreasoning, unmerciful.

Detlef and Genevieve ran into the foyer, and found a crowd pressing in. Ticket-holders mostly. The seeds of panic were sprouting. They had to fight forwards.