Greatshadow (30 page)

The Deceiver shook his head. “The Truthspeakers stripped me of the power to raise the dead. I’m sorry.”

Menagerie ground his teeth together and clenched his fists, his anger rising. But instead of attacking Zetetic, he looked down at the fallen Goon.

“You moron,” he said, his voice trembling.

“That’s a fine goodbye,” said Reeker’s voice from the pool. I looked toward the rippling water and found a bilious yellow vapor rising, coalescing into the familiar form of Reeker. The pale spirit lingered for a few seconds as it looked down on the scene.

“Reeker! It’s me! Stagger!”

Reeker’s eye widened as he saw me. I drifted closer. His naked, barefoot ghost seemed shorter than he had been alive. There had been whispers that he wore lifts in his boots; apparently these rumors were true.

“Stagger?” he asked. “What are you doing here? You’re dead!”

“So are you,” I said. “I’m haunting Infidel. Well, technically, I’m haunting a knife. If you pick something and focus on it, you might be able to stick around.”

He looked down at his burnt body. “Why would I want to stick around?” he said. “Look at what’s left of me. It’s going to hurt like hell popping back inside.”

“I meant you can stay here as a ghost.”

Reeker laughed. “How pathetic would that be? Life was fun because my body was fun. I could eat, drink, and fool around. Can a ghost do any of that?”

“No. But it beats just fading out to nothing, doesn’t it?”

“What? You don’t believe in heaven?” Reeker asked.

“You do?”

“Sure. Like a
Black Swan
barge in the sky. I’ll just keep on eating, drinking, and sleeping around, only there I won’t get bossed around by tattooed shapeshifters. And in heaven, all my friends will have, you know, faces.” He looked on No-Face with a look of unconcealed disdain.

The giant man was standing over Reeker’s body, shuddering, tears rolling over his blank features from his one visible eye, as he gurgled, “Guh huh huh huh. Guh huh huh huh.”

“The big baby,” Reeker said.

“Kind of a cold thing to say about the only man crying over your death.”

Reeker shrugged. “Remember that little calico cat that used to hang around the bar? No-Face cried like a little girl when it got run over by that cart. Him crying over me is nothing special.”

I had an epiphany as I looked into Reeker’s remorseless face.

“I never liked you,” I said.

“What a disappointment,” he said with a sneer. “You were the biggest loser in Commonground. You had the most gorgeous girl on the island giving you goo-goo eyes, and you never had the guts to sneak a kiss. You acted like you were smart, reading all those damn books, but what did you ever do that was important? You wasted your life.”

I ground my ghost teeth, sorry I’d called out to his wraith.

Reeker glanced up at the tree houses. A hundred dark faces looked down at us. Among them was the tall, thin form of my grandfather. “Must run in the family. Hard to get less ambitious than living up a tree like a damn squirrel.”

Before I could think of a retort, he turned his eyes toward the stars and drifted upward. “I’ve stuck around long enough. There are women waiting in the next world. I can hear them calling to me now.” His phantom body remained intact as he rose, not dissipating the way Blade had. He cast one last glimpse down at his battered, broken body.

“Damn,” he said, as he cleared the trees. “I was one handsome devil.”

Meanwhile, Relic and Father Ver had joined the others at the pool. The assembled dragon-slayers glanced at one another.

“This is insane,” said Zetetic, the first to state the obvious. “The dragon knows we’re here. Let’s call this off and try again some other century.”

“Maybe he does know we’re here,” said Tower. “But does he know who we are? If he knows the danger we pose, why such a feeble attack?”

Relic nodded. “I concur. This was merely a test to see what he was up against. If he was worried by what he’d seen, lava would now be flowing down the slope toward us.”

“We’ve lost a third of the party without reaching his lair,” Zetetic said to Tower. “How many of us will have to die before you call this off?”

“All of us,” said Tower. “We have a duty.”

“
You
have a duty,” snapped Zetetic. “What’s in it for the rest of us?”

“Munuh,” said No-Face.

“Money was going to be my answer too,” said Menagerie.

“Was it worth losing a friend?”

“Reeker broke the contract; he paid the price.” Menagerie’s face was hard as he said, “The next Goon I recruit won’t be such a pain in the ass.”

“That’s a very mercenary attitude,” said the Deceiver.

“Is that surprising?” asked Aurora. “We’re mercenaries.”

Zetetic looked at Relic. “Fine. So Tower and Ver are here for duty, and the others are here for money. What are you after?”

Relic pulled back his hunched shoulders and said, in a firm voice, “I’m surprised a man of your learning has to ask. Greatshadow’s hoard is more than a collection of gold and gems. The greatest treasures of the Vanished Kingdom may be found amid his trove. There are scrolls containing plays that no man has seen performed in centuries, sculptures that once adorned the gardens of kings, and paintings and carvings that show the long forgotten world of my youth. I would pay any price to look once more upon these arts.”

“You sound almost like you mean this,” I said.

I thought it would sound plausible. It’s simpler to say this than to reveal my true motive.

“Which is?”

Hatred. Pure and simple hatred of the beast. Every moment that he survives torments my very soul.

“Fine,” said Zetetic. “Let me set you all straight on the real reason we’re here. The Isle of Fire is the largest wild plot of land left in the world. It’s covered in virgin timber, beneath which lies rich volcanic soils begging to be cultivated. The island has fresh water rivers and deep harbors perfect for cities. The king isn’t trying to rid the world of some great evil by slaying Greatshadow. He’s trying to expand his empire. Are you willing to die for that? Because I think that the greedy dreams of an already rich king are a lousy thing to die for.”

“The king’s motives are of no importance,” said the Truthspeaker. “It matters only that you obey. Remember the X sanction.”

Zetetic looked at Aurora, Menagerie, and No-Face. “Don’t any of you wonder what he’s talking about? Do any of you care what kind of monsters are paying your salaries?”

“Enlighten us,” said Menagerie.

“I told you the Truthspeakers stripped me of the power to raise the dead,” said Zetetic. “When
I
do it, apparently, it’s ‘evil.’” He formed little quote marks with his fingers as he spoke the word. “But the Church is rife with hypocrisy when it comes to necromancy. I was captured a year ago. I didn’t go down easy. I killed... what? Fifty knights?”

“Forty-three,” said Lord Tower, tersely.

“They wasted no time when I was captured. I was bound and gagged and given a trial that lasted less than an hour. Ten minutes after my conviction, I was marched to the gallows where a noose was placed around my neck. Father Ver himself gave the order to hang me. I still have nightmares about the trapdoor swinging open beneath my feet.”

“Apparently, you survived,” said Aurora.

“No,” said Zetetic. “I died.”

Aurora furrowed her brow.

“King Brightmoon knew of my powers, and how useful those powers might be if he commanded them. So, he paid the church a bribe. He had the monks who pray Tower’s armor into existence pray that my heart would once more start beating. I awoke from death to learn I’ll stay alive only as long as they keep praying. Tower can send an order through his little magic book at any time for them to stop. That’s the X sanction. Tower and Ver act all high and mighty and righteous, but they aren’t above enslaving the unwilling dead if it will help the king expand his empire.”

Father Ver said, “You are no slave, Deceiver. You’re merely employed. Your wages are paid in heartbeats.”

Zetetic looked at Aurora with a desperate look in his eyes. “I’ve no choice but to obey these bastards. But you and the others are free to resist!”

Aurora shrugged. “The Goons and I work for the Black Swan. We aren’t all that shocked by a boss motivated by greed.”

Zetetic shut up, a moderate pout upon his face. I suspect his feelings ran deeper, but his stitched lips prevented him from showing a full-fledged frown.

As interesting as it was learning what the X sanction was, I was more intrigued by the idea that Tower could communicate with the monks through his book. The notebook had been the only thing in Tower’s hand when he stepped off the platform, and two seconds later he’d had the Gloryhammer in his grasp. Did the notebook contain some kind of portal spell? Maybe the Jagged Heart was still at the monastery, and could be sent to Tower when he was ready for it.

Before I could ponder the puzzle further, Grandfather lowered himself down from the trees on a looped vine. He stopped with his penis-gourd at eye-level and said, “You’ve worn out your welcome, long-men.” Our packs and gear rained to the ground around us as the pygmies tossed them from the platform. “Leave at once. Return to the sea. You may not pass through our territory.”

“We’ll go where we wish,” said Father Ver. “Should your kinsmen threaten us, we will meet any attack with deadly force. You have no—”

Lord Tower raised his gauntlet, motioning for the Truthspeaker to stop speaking. “You were gracious to show us hospitality,” he said to Grandfather. “We will not cause you any further bother. We’re here to fight the dragon, not fellow men, pagans though you may be. We will find another path.”

The knight cast his gaze toward Relic. “It seems we must put your knowledge of this island to a test after all.”

Relic nodded. “I know a way.”

“Do you?” I asked.

Not really,
he thought back at me.

I smiled. For the first time since I died, I finally felt useful. All these years of poking around the island were going to prove valuable after all.

“It looks like I’ve finally got the upper hand,” I said. “I know how to get to the lair from here while avoiding Jawa Fruit territory.”

And what is the price of this information?
asked Relic.

I pressed my lips together, feeling horrible about what I was going to say. But... what choice did I have? “I’ll keep spying on Tower. And in return... in return, you’ll tell me what Infidel’s thinking. I have to know. Is she really interested in him? Is there any danger at all that he’ll win her over?”

Relic’s eyes glowed in the shadows of his hood.
A fair price. And what will you ask if you find that she does feel attraction?

I clenched my fists and said, “Nothing you’re not already planning to do. Tower was never going to come out of Greatshadow’s lair alive.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

OMENS

T
O EVERYONE’S ASTONISHMENT,
nobody died during the next week. I’ll take credit. Having been turned away from Jawa Fruit territory, I had Relic guide the party along the cliffs to reach the north slope. This was the harshest terrain on the island; I knew it well, since the ruins of the Vanished Kingdom here had been left relatively untouched by previous generations of tomb raiders. Treasure seekers have a tendency to look for the easy score; if they had the taste for actual work, there were more reliable careers available. So, most of the explorers stuck to the relative ease of the southern and eastern slopes, as I had done early in my career. It was only after I’d forged a friendship with a woman who could toss half-ton rocks around like bales of hay that the northern slope had opened up to me. Some of my most profitable discoveries had been made here.

There were no substantial navigable rivers on this side of the island, just cascading streams, so there were no river-pygmies. The few trees that clung to the rocky slopes were gnarled and stunted, unsuitable for forest-pygmies. That left only lava-pygmies to worry about, and since the Shattered Palace sat near the dead center of their territory, I didn’t see anything we could do to avoid them.

As luck would have it, in the chaos that followed Infidel meeting my grandfather, she’d never bothered to clean the bone-handled knife. Relic had returned it to her, and I was still free to move about. I felt like a child opening gift-wrapped presents, flitting from ruin to ruin as the others slogged slowly along narrow tracks that would give a mountain goat vertigo. The men of the Vanished Kingdom had regarded this rugged landscape as a spiritual place, carving countless small temples directly into the steep rock faces.

On my last trip through the area, I’d spotted some dark spots high up a jutting cliff that looked more like windows than natural cave openings. Infidel had been willing to risk the climb, but we’d spotted it near the end of our trip and our packs were already bulging, so we’d decided to save it for another day. As Tower’s party crept along the yard-wide lip of rock that led beneath the windows, I could see from Infidel’s expression that she remembered the place. I felt a pang of regret over this and a thousand other plans we’d made that we never got around to doing.