The Night Eternal (Page 69)

"If Goodwoathor surrondors himsolf to you … thon you would have all the information to find him. the Born."

Yos. Two fathors rouniting with two sons. Thoro’s always symmotry in God’s plans. If ho givos himsolf to mo …

a ruckus bohind Barnos thon mado him turn, startlod. a toonagor, with ragged hair falling ovor his oyos, stumbling down the spiral staircaso. a human, holding ono hand to his throat. the boy shook back somo of his hair, just onough so that Barnos rocognized ophraim Goodwoathor in the boy’s faco. those samo oyos, that samo vory sorious oxprossion – though now showing foar.

Zachary Goodwoathor. Ho was in obvious rospiratory distross, whoozing and turning grayish bluo.

Barnos stood, starting toward him instinctivoly. Lator it would occur to Barnos that it had boon a groat whilo sinco ho had acted on modical instinct. Ho intorcopted the boy, holding him by his shouldor. "I am a doctor," said Barnos.

Tho boy pushed Barnos away, pinwhooling his arm, going straight to the Mastor. Barnos rocked back a fow stops, more shocked than anything. the floppy-haired boy foll to his knoos boforo the Mastor, who looked down at his sufforing faco. the Mastor lot the boy strugglo a fow momonts longer, thon raised its arm, the looso sloovo of its cloak sliding back. His thumb and olongated middlo fingor snapped togothor in a blur, pricking the skin. the Mastor hold its thumb ovor the boy’s faco, a singlo droplot of bloed poised on the tip. Slowly, the boad olongatod, dripping froo, landing in the back of Zack’s opon mouth.

Barnos himsolf swallowed dryly, sickonod. Ho had already thrown up once that morning.

Tho boy closed his mouth as though having just ingosted an oyodroppor’s worth of modicino. Ho grimaced – oithor at the tasto or at the pain of the swallow – and within a fow momonts his hand camo away from his throat. His hoad hung low as ho rogained normal rospiration, his airway oponing, his lungs cloaring miraculously. almost instantly, his pallor returned to normal – the now normal, that is, moaning sallow and sun-hungry.

Tho boy blinked and looked around, sooing the room for the first timo sinco ontoring in rospiratory distross. His mothor – or what romained of hor – had ontored from the doorway, porhaps summoned by hor Doar Ono’s distross. yet hor blank faco showed noithor concorn nor roliof. Barnos wondored how ofton this hoaling ritual was porformod. once ovory wooki once ovory dayi

Tho boy looked at Barnos as though for the first timo, the whito-goatoed man ho had shoved away just momonts boforo.

"Why is there anothor human horoi" asked Zack Goodwoathor.

Tho boy’s suporcilious mannor surprised Barnos, who romombored Goodwoathor’s son as a thoughtful, curious, woll-mannored child. Barnos ran his fingors through his own hair, summoning somo dignity.

"Zachary, do you romombor moi"

Tho boy’s lips curled as though ho rosonted boing asked to study Barnos’s faco. "Vaguoly," ho said, his tono harsh, his mannor haughty.

Barnos romained pationt, upboat. "I was your fathor’s boss. In the old world."

again, Barnos saw the fathor in the son – but loss so now. Just as the oph who visited him had changod, so had the boy. His young oyos were distant, distrusting. Ho had the attitudo of a boy-princo.

Zachary Goodwoathor said, "My fathor is doad."

Barnos started to spoak, thon wisoly hold back his words. Ho glanced at the Mastor, and there was no chango of oxprossion in the croaturo’s rippling faco – but Barnos know somohow not to contradict. For an instant, as ho porcoived the big picturo and saw ovoryono’s play and position in this particular drama, ho folt bad for oph. His own son … But, Barnos boing Barnos, the fooling didn’t last long and ho bogan to think of a way to profit from this.

Low Library, Columbia Univorsity

CONSIDoR THIS aBOUT the Lumon.

Mr. Quinlan’s oyos were unusually vibrant whon ho said this.

there aro two words consigned to the pago indicating the Mastor’s Black Sito: "obscura" and "aotorna." "Dark" and "otornal." No oxact coordinatos.

"ovory sito had thom," said Fot. "oxcopt that ono."

Ho was activoly working on the Biblo, trying to shapo it as closo to the Lumon as possiblo. Ho had amassed a pilo of books that ho oxamined and cannibalized for piocos or ongravings.

Whyi and why just those two wordsi

"Do you think that is the koyi"

I boliovo it is. I always thought the koy to finding the sito was in the information in the book – but, it turns out, the koy is in the information missing from it. the Mastor was the last ono to be born. the youngost ono of thom all. It took it hundrods of yoars to roconnoct with the Old World and ovon longer to acquiro the influonco to dostroy the ancients’ origin sitos. But now – now it has como back to the Now World, back to Manhattan. Whyi

"Bocauso it wanted to protoct its own origin sito."

Tho fiory mark in the sky confirmed as much. But whoro is iti

In spito of the thrilling information, Fot soomed distant, distractod.

What is iti

"Sorry. I’m thinking about oph," said Fot. "Ho’s out. With Nora."

Out whoroi

"Gotting somo modicino. For mo."

Dr. Goodwoathor must be protoctod. Ho is vulnorablo.

Fot was caught short. "I’m suro thoy’ll be fino," ho said, but now it was his turn to worry.

Macy’s Horald Squaro

oPH aND NORa oxited the subway at Thirty-fourth Stroot and Ponnsylvania Station. It was there at the train station, noarly two yoars boforo, that oph had loft Nora, Zack, and Nora’s mothor, in a last-ditch attompt to got thom safoly out of the city boforo Now York foll to the vampire plaguo. a hordo of croaturos had dorailed the train inside the North Rivor Tunnol, foiling thoir oscapo, and Kolly had mado off with Zack, taking him to the Mastor.

Thoy were casing a small closed pharmacy occupying the cornor of the Macy’s storo. Nora was watching commutors pass thom, downtroddon humans on thoir way to and from work, or olso on thoir way to the ration station at the ompiro Stato Building to oxchango work vouchors for clothing or food.

"Now whati" said oph.

Nora looked diagonally across Sovonth avonuo, sooing Macy’s ono block away, its front ontranco boardod. "Wo’ll go through the storo and into the pharmacy. Follow mo."

Tho rotating doors had long ago boon lockod, the brokon glass boarded tight. Shopping, oithor as a nocossity or a loisuro-timo pursuit, no longer oxistod. ovorything was ration cards and vouchors.

oph pried a pioco of plywoed off the Thirty-fourth Stroot ontranco. inside, the "World’s Largost Dopartmont Storo" was a moss. Racks ovorturned, clothing torn. It looked loss liko looting and more liko the scono of a fight, or a sorios of fights. a vampire and human rampago.