Death Masks

Shiro was quiet for a moment before he said, "They will understand. Take it now."

I swallowed and did. The wooden hilt of the sword felt too warm for the room, and I could sense a buzz of energy emanating from it in rippling waves. I made sure I had a good grip on it.

Shiro said quietly, "They will come for you. Go. Second right. Ladder up."

Nicodemus watched me as I fell back through the doorway into the dimness of the hall beyond it. I stared at Shiro for a moment. He knelt on the floor, still holding Deirdre’s neck at the breaking point, his eyes on Nicodemus. From the back, I could see the wrinkled skin on the back of his neck, the age spots on his freshly shaved scalp. Nicodemus’s shadow had grown to the size of a movie screen, and it covered the back wall and part of the floor, twitching and writhing slowly closer to Shiro.

I turned and headed down the tunnel as quickly as I could. Behind me, I heard Nicodemus say, "Keep your word, Japan. Release my daughter."

I looked back. Shiro released the girl and stood up. She flung herself away from him, and as she did Nicodemus’s shadow rolled forward like an ocean wave and crashed over the old Knight. One moment, he was there. The next, the room where he stood went totally black, filled with the rasping, seething mass of Nicodemus’s demon shadow.

"Kill the wizard," Nicodemus snarled. "Get the sword."

Deirdre let out wild, primal scream from somewhere inside the darkness. I heard ripping, tearing sounds. I heard popping noises that might have been bones breaking or joints being dislocated. Then I heard the steely, slithery rasp of Deirdre’s hairdo, and half a dozen metallic strands whipped toward me from the darkness.

I shuffled back, and the blades fell short of me. I turned around and started hobbling away. I didn’t want to leave Shiro there, but if I’d stayed, I only would have died with him. My shame dug at me like a knife.

More blades emerged from the dark, presumably while Deirdre was still transforming into her demonic aspect. It couldn’t be long before she finished and came flashing down the hallway after me. If I couldn’t get myself clear, I’d be done for.

So once again I ran like hell. And hated myself for doing it.

Chapter Twenty-three

The shrieks died off more quickly than I would have thought, and I did my best to keep moving in a straight line. It was mostly dark. I was aware of a couple of doorways passing on my left, and I stumbled along until I found the second one on my right. I took it, and found a ladder that led up some kind of pipe or shaft, with a light shining down from about seven hundred miles above.

I got a couple of rungs off the floor when something hit me at knee level, grabbed my legs, and twisted. I fell off the ladder, the cane clattering onto the floor. I had a brief impression of a man’s face, and then my attacker let out a wordless snarl and hit me hard on my left eye.

I ducked and rolled with the punch. The good news was that it didn’t tear my face off or anything, which meant that the person throwing the punch was probably another mortal. The bad news was that he was built more heavily than me and probably had a lot more muscle. He piled atop me, trying to grasp my throat.

I hunched my shoulders and ducked my head as much as I could, and kept him from squeezing my head off. He threw another punch at me, but it’s tough to throw a good punch when you’re rolling around on the floor in the dark. He missed, and I started fighting dirty. I reached up and raked my nails across his eyes. I got one of them and he yelled, flinching away.

I managed to wriggle out from under him, giving him a hard shove that added to the momentum of the flinch. He fell, rolled, and started to rise.

I kicked him in the head with my rented formal shoes. My shoe went flying off, which I was pretty sure never happened to James Bond. The goon faltered, wobbling, so I kicked him with the other foot. He was tough. He started coming back from that one too. I bent over and slammed my fist down sledgehammer style at the back of his neck, several times. I was shouting as I did it, and the edges of my vision burned with a film of red.

The rabbit punches dropped him, and he fell limp to the ground.

"Son of a bitch." I panted, feeling around until I found Shiro’s cane. "I didn’t get my ass kicked."

"Good day to get that lottery ticket," Susan said. She came down the last several feet of ladder, dressed again in the black leather pants, the dark coat. She checked to make sure the goon wasn’t faking it. "Where’s Shiro?"

I shook my head. "He isn’t coming."

Susan took a breath and then nodded. "Can you climb?"

"Think so," I said, eyeing the ladder. I held out the cane. "Take this for me?"

Susan reached out to take the blade. There was a flicker of silver static and she hissed, jerking her fingers back. "What the hell is that?"

"Magic sword."

"Well, it sucks," Susan said. "Go ahead; I’ll come up behind you."

I fumbled around with the cane, slipping it as best I could through the tux’s cummerbund. I started up the ladder and once again Deirdre shrieked, this time her voice wholly demonic, echoing weirdly through the stone corridors.

"Wasn’t that-" Susan asked, shaking her fingers.

"Yeah. Climb," I said. "Climb fast."

The action and adrenaline had done something to thaw me out, or at least it felt that way. My fingers tingled, but they were functional, and I gained speed as I climbed. "How’d you find me?"

"Shiro," Susan responded. "We went to Michael’s house for help. He seemed to know where to go. Like instinct."

"I saw Michael do that once," I said, panting. "He told me he knew how to find where he was needed. How long is this freaking ladder?"

"Another twenty or thirty feet," Susan said. "Comes out in the basement of an empty building south of the Loop. Martin’s waiting with the car."

"Why did that guy talk about a Fellowship when he saw you back at the auction?" I asked. "What Fellowship?"

"It’s a long story."

"Condense it."

"Later."

"But- "

I didn’t get to protest any further, because I slipped and nearly fell when I reached the top of the ladder. I recovered my balance and scrambled up into a completely dark room. I looked back over my shoulder and saw Susan outlined, a dim shadow against a faint green-gold light.

"What’s that light?" I asked.

"Eyes," Susan said. Her voice was a little thready. "Coming up. Move over."

I did. Susan slid onto the floor as the green-gold light grew brighter, and I heard the steely rasping sound of Deirdre’s hair moving below. Susan turned and drew something from her jacket pocket. There was a clinking, clicking sound. Then she whispered, "One, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thousand, four, one thousand," and dropped something down the ladder.