Part 10 (1/2)

If you bind yourself to him, you will make yourself part of his war.

”What war?” she demanded. ”Who's he fighting? Tell me that.”

The figure seemed to hesitate. A cloud of silk twisted about its thighs.

He means to kill the Hunter, it said at last. it said at last.

The words were a cold thrill in her flesh. ”He can't,” she whispered. ”No man can.”

A single man, no. But a man with a demonic ally and an army behind him ... perhaps.

”An army? What army?”

The figure hesitated again, then shook its head. I can't tell you that. I can't tell you that.

”What demon?”

I can't tell you that.

”Why? Because I know the Hunter?”

The figure didn't answer.

Wrapping her arms even tighter about herself, Narilka s.h.i.+vered. Andrys or the Hunter. If the two of them pitted all their strength against each other, one would surely die. Maybe both. The thought of that loss was an ache within her. The thought that the loser would probably be Andrys-desolate, wounded Andrys-was almost more than she could bear.

”What can I do?” she whispered. ”Anything?”

In terms of affecting the outcome of the conflict? The figure hesitated. I can't counsel you on that issue. Such interference with another ... it's forbidden. As for Andrys Tarrant, I will tell you this: he would be fortunate to lose his life in this endeavor, for his ally intends to destroy him in soul as surely as he means to destroy the Hunter in body.

Even more softly: ”What can I do?”

You know the options. Now you know the risk. Make your choices accordingly.

”What would you do?”

The figure drew back; if it had been more human in countenance, Narilka might have thought it was startled. I lack the emotions that would make such a question meaningful. The Hunter has created great beauty in his time, though of a cold and inhuman sort; part of me would regret his pa.s.sing. As for his enemy ... we do not share priorities, he and I. And I think that in a world where he ruled, I would have no comfortable place. But the concept of taking sides is meaningless, when I am forbidden to interfere. Only to protect my own may I act. I lack the emotions that would make such a question meaningful. The Hunter has created great beauty in his time, though of a cold and inhuman sort; part of me would regret his pa.s.sing. As for his enemy ... we do not share priorities, he and I. And I think that in a world where he ruled, I would have no comfortable place. But the concept of taking sides is meaningless, when I am forbidden to interfere. Only to protect my own may I act.

Her heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear the whispering voice above its beat; her hands twisted nervously, one about the other. ”You can protect me?”

From his ally. From the illusions that are his power. No more than that.

”How?”

It seemed to her the figure smiled. The same rules bind us all, The same rules bind us all, it said. Silken veils swirled about its it said. Silken veils swirled about its thighs. For as long as you are mine, he cannot touch you. thighs. For as long as you are mine, he cannot touch you.

She shut her eyes; the figure was still bright in her vision. ”I've always been yours. I always will be.”

For now. Until this war is over.

”Always!”

You may choose differently when this is finished.

”I won't.”

We shall shall see, the figure said quietly. Until then, how see, the figure said quietly. Until then, however you choose, know that I am watching you. Always.

The figure began to fade slowly, becoming translucent first so that the walls (there were walls again!) showed through it. Then the veils misted into smoke, and were scattered by the air; the gleaming flesh dissolved into random glitter, then dissipated before her eyes. Nothing was left of the image of the G.o.ddess, save the memory which even now made her tremble.

”Thank you, Saris.” She could barely find enough voice to shape the words. ”Thank you.”

She managed to get to her feet somehow. Managed to get to where her clothing lay and put it back on, piece by piece. How few mortals ever saw a G.o.d incarnate, much less were counseled by one? Her hands were shaking as she put the communion robe aside. Saris was watching, she told herself. She would always be watching. For whatever reason, the G.o.ddess seemed to care about the outcome of this ... what had she called it? A war.

Fully dressed now, she s.h.i.+vered. Oh, Narilka. What are you getting yourself into? Oh, Narilka. What are you getting yourself into?

Had she looked behind her as she left the temple, she would have seen nothing unusual, for Saris no longer maintained the illusion of a solid form. Had she listened closely, she would have heard nothing unusual, for Saris no longer couched her words in cadences the fleshborn might hear. But there was a presence behind her, and there were words, and both were echoed by the fae as it flowed about her feet.

Careful, my brother, the Iezu/G.o.ddess whispered. the Iezu/G.o.ddess whispered. We are all watching now. We are all watching now.

Fifteen.

The snake is black, and its eyes are drops of blood. At one end its many necks twine like tentacles, promising to enmesh the unwary in a living web of cold flesh and sharp teeth. At the other end is a face out of h.e.l.l, whose hot breath stinks of sulfur and carrion as it lunges for him, jaws snapping shut mere inches from his throat as he throws himself backward is black, and its eyes are drops of blood. At one end its many necks twine like tentacles, promising to enmesh the unwary in a living web of cold flesh and sharp teeth. At the other end is a face out of h.e.l.l, whose hot breath stinks of sulfur and carrion as it lunges for him, jaws snapping shut mere inches from his throat as he throws himself backward- Damien awoke suddenly, heart pounding. He was lying on the couch of his rented apartment, and his body was drenched with sweat. What a nightmare! He tried to sit up, but his muscles were like knots and he had to work them loose before they would obey him. What the h.e.l.l had brought that on?

He would have suspected Tarrant, but the dream wasn't his style at all; the Hunter generally preferred a more complex scenario, a sophisticated blend of fear and despair that was light-years beyond the primitive biochemical terror of this experience. What was that thing anyway? It reminded him of representations of the Evil One that the Church favored, only far more real and terrifying than those formalized portraits. And why would he suddenly start dreaming about the Evil One now, after all he'd been through in the last two years? Certainly there were more concrete fears to occupy his mind.

He froze suddenly as a particularly nasty thought hit him. For a moment he couldn't move, but sat rigid on the worn couch as his sweat chilled to ice on his skin. No, he whispered silently. Willing it not to be. What words had Tarrant used when he referred to his patron? Divided into parts, it can be petty and unpredictable. Unified, it is a ruthless evil. Divided into parts, it can be petty and unpredictable. Unified, it is a ruthless evil.

Divided and unified, both at once. He thought of the creature in his dream, and cold certainty filled him. What other image would his mind choose to represent such a Power?

Where the h.e.l.l was Tarrant now? He'd been supposed to come up as soon as the sun set, so that they could compare notes and discuss future strategy. But it was well past sunset now and the Hunter hadn't shown his face. Damien could think of only two reasons why he wouldn't show up on time, and the simpler one-forgetfulness-just wasn't like him.

Someone-or something something-must have interfered.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach Damien caught up his keys and exited the small apartment. By the time the door slammed shut behind him he was already running down the narrow stairs to the first floor, his hand skimming along the demon-wards that had been inscribed into the banister. His feet hammered on the worn stairs in a rhythm only slightly louder than his heartbeat. A voice inside him warned, Even if it is what you think, what can you possibly do? Even if it is what you think, what can you possibly do? but he forced himself to ignore it as he darted to the next staircase, the one that led down beneath ground level. but he forced himself to ignore it as he darted to the next staircase, the one that led down beneath ground level.

Tarrant's door was shut, and looked just as it would if nothing were wrong. He banged on it with a heavy fist, calling out the Hunter's name. Again. His blows were hard enough to make the door vibrate, but still there was no response.

”Who's down there?” The voice came from behind him, a woman's. He heard her steps descending the narrow stairs as he banged on the door again, with force enough that even the frame s.h.i.+vered. No response. d.a.m.n Tarrant to h.e.l.l, what was going on?

”Is something wrong?” It was the landlady, an older woman whom Damien had met but once. Her tone was more suspicious than concerned, and her tone made it clear that he looked more like a raving madman than a reliable tenant. He spared her a quick glance, trying for one moment to look calm enough to rea.s.sure her. He doubted it worked.

”I think my friend's in trouble.” He banged on the door again, hard enough to shake the frame. ”Gerald! Are you in there?” There was cold sweat beading on his brow now, and his hands had started shaking. He tried to remember what the windows of the apartment were like, which he had boarded up only two days ago. Too narrow for him to slide through, he decided at last, even if he could kick the boards free. Worse and worse. He was about to start banging again when the landlady pushed him aside. Her expression was harsh and frankly suspicious, but she had a large ring of keys in her hand and was reaching toward the lock with it. He let her. The bra.s.s key entered the lock and turned, and he heard the metallic snap of a bolt being withdrawn. With one last glance at him she turned the door handle and pulled. Nothing. He pushed her aside and pulled himself, but the door wouldn't budge. Clearly it was bolted from the inside.

d.a.m.n!

”What did you expect?” she demanded.