I was ready for another fight, another concentrated effort of will that would half kill me, but in the end it was as easy as taking a deep breath. As though my gift had been waiting all my life for me to ask of it the one question that really mattered. My shadow stood up before me, separating itself, taking on form and substance until it looked exactly like me, right down to the white trench coat with the flapping sleeve. Exactly like me, in every detail—except my doppleganger’s eyes were full of darkness. It leaned against a table and folded its arms across its chest, smiling mockingly at me.
“Took you long enough,” it said. Its voice was smooth, assured, and only just short of openly taunting. “Well, here I am, John. Your gift personified, ready to answer all your questions.”
“All right,” I said. My mouth was very dry. “How do you work? How is it you’re always able to find the things that are hidden from everyone else?”
“Easy. I tap directly into reality itself. I see everything that is, all at once. I’m really so much more than you ever allowed me to be, John.”
“Damn,” Tommy said quietly. “That is…really spooky.”
“Why did Lilith give you to me?” I said.
“Because she intends to use you to find the Speaking Gun. The most powerful weapon in the world. It was originally created to kill angels and demons, but it can do so much more than that. Lilith will use the Speaking Gun to remake the Nightside in her own image. Return it to what she originally intended it to be, before Humanity infested and perverted it from its true purpose and nature. She was responsible for the Gun’s creation, long and long ago. Adam gave of his rib and his flesh to make Eve, and after Lilith came back up from Hell, having lain down with demons and given birth to monsters, she also gave of her rib and her flesh, to make the Speaking Gun. With the help of Abraxus Artificers.”
“Yeah,” Suzie said suddenly. “That was engraved on the stock of the Speaking Gun; Abraxus Artificers, the old firm, solving problems since the beginning. I’ve always been very good at remembering things, where weapons are involved.”
“Very good,” said my double. “Now shut up and listen, and you might learn something. Abraxus Artificers were the descendants of Cain, the first murderer. How else do you think they could fashion such marvellous weapons of destruction?” My double paused. “You do all realise that I’m talking in parables, representing a far more complicated reality? Good. I shall continue. The Speaking Gun was designed to speak backwards the echoes of the original Word of Creation, which resonates on in everything, giving each separate thing its own true secret name. By speaking this secret name backwards, the Speaking Gun can thus unmake or uncreate anything. But the Speaking Gun could be used, by someone with enough power, someone who gave of their own flesh to make it, to respeak those secret names, and thus change their essential nature. Lilith will use the Speaking Gun to respeak the Nightside, making it over into whatever she wants it to be. Personally, I can’t wait to see what she’s going to do…”
“That’s enough,” I said, and shut down my gift. It didn’t fight me, just collapsed back into darkness, and my shadow was nothing more than my shadow. I wondered if I’d ever look at it in the same way again. Or ever really trust my gift, knowing that it lived within me like a parasite.
“So,” Walker said finally, “who has the Speaking Gun? My people lost track of it some time back.”
“I last saw it here, in this bar, with the future Suzie Shooter,” said Alex, glancing apologetically at Suzie. “Before Merlin banished both of them.”
“Don’t look at me,” said Merlin. He sounded a lot smaller, since I’d stared him down. “I only sent them away. They could be anywhere now. Or anywhen.”
“The last time I saw it, in the Present, Eddie had it,” I said. I looked at him. We all looked at him, and he nodded slowly. “You were using it to kill angels from Above and Below, in the angel war,” I said, being careful to sound not at all challenging or confrontational. “What did you do with it, Eddie?”
“I gave it away,” said Razor Eddie, quite calmly. “To Old Father Time. The only Being I knew powerful enough to control it and not be corrupted by it.”
“I thought all you cared about was smiting the bad guys?” said Suzie.
“No,” said Razor Eddie. “I wanted to do penance. There’s a difference. All the time I had the Speaking Gun, I could feel it working on me, trying to seduce me with its endless hunger for death and destruction. But I have been there, and done that. I am something else now.”
“According to my agents’ last reports, Lilith has destroyed the Time Tower,” Walker said heavily. “Reduced it to nothing but rubble. Old Father Time is dead, and the Speaking Gun buried under the rubble with him.”
“No,” I said, feeling hope rise anew within me. “Time’s domain isn’t actually in the Nightside. The Tower was just how people got to speak to him. There is another way to reach him…. So, who’s up for one last suicidal charge for glory? Don’t all speak at once.”
TWELVE
Last Train to Shadows Fall
I explained what I had in mind. Everyone looked at me. And somehow I knew they weren’t too keen.
“You’re crazy!” said Larry Oblivion.
“And if you think we’re going along with you, you’re crazy, too!” said Dead Boy.
“Hold everything,” said Walker, holding up his hand, and it was a measure of the man that everyone else fell silent, like children when the teacher speaks. “Let me be sure I’ve grasped all the details of this cunning plan of yours, John. You want us to go out onto the streets full of madmen and monsters and run interference for you, at the risk of all our lives, so you can get safely to the nearest Underground station and catch a train to take you safely out of the Nightside? Is that it? Have I grasped all the nuances correctly?”
“I love it when you get all sarcastic, Walker,” I said. “But actually, you’re pretty much right. Look, Old Father Time resides in Shadows Fall, that small town in the back of beyond that’s an elephants’ graveyard for the supernatural. He only commutes into the Nightside to work. When Lilith destroyed the Time Tower, all she did was cut off his access to the Nightside. He’s still safe in Shadows Fall, with the Speaking Gun. If I can get safely to the Underground, I can take a train straight to him. And just maybe I can persuade him to give me the Speaking Gun, to use against Lilith.”
“Or, you could just run out on us,” said Larry, fixing me with his cold unblinking gaze. “Even Lilith would think twice about going after you, if you were hiding out in Shadows Fall.”
“He may be dead, but he has a point,” said Walker. “You’ve never been the most trustworthy soul, Taylor. Why should we risk our lives to save your selfish skin?”
“Oh ye of little faith,” I said. “We need the Gun, and I’m the only one he might give it to. Do you have any means of communicating with Shadows Fall, Walker? Any way we can talk to Time, and save me the journey?”
“No,” Walker admitted reluctantly. “All outgoing communications have been jammed. Scientific and supernatural. We’re completely cut off from the rest of the world.”
“Then I have to go in person, don’t I?” I said. “Is there anyone else here who thinks Old Father Time might surrender the most powerful weapon in the world to them? No, I didn’t think so.”
“Why should he give it to you?” said Julien Advent. From him, it was a fair question.
“Because I’m Lilith’s son. Because he knows I’m the only one who can stop her now.”
“I say!” Tommy Oblivion said suddenly, and we all jumped a little. “I’ve just had a brilliant idea! Taylor, why don’t you get Old Father Time to send you back into the Past again, to before all this started, so you can warn yourself about what’s coming?”
“I can’t,” I said patiently, “because I didn’t.”
Tommy frowned, his lower lip pouting out sullenly. “I can’t help feeling there should be more to the argument than that.” He pulled a notepad out of his pocket
and started jotting down equations and Venn diagrams, muttering about divergent timetracks, opposing probabilities, experiment’s intent, and whether or not someone’s pizza had anchovies on it, so we left him to get on with it. In my experience, Time travel just complicated things even more.
“The Speaking Gun is what matters,” I said forcefully. “It’s the only weapon we can be sure will work on Lilith, because it’s made out of her flesh and bone. I can use it to speak her name in reverse, and uncreate her.”
“Or perhaps to respeak her?” said Walker. “Remake her into some more acceptable form? She is your mother, after all.”
“No,” I said. “As long as she lives, she’ll always be a threat. For everything she’s done, and for everything she intends to do, she has to die. She was never my mother. Not in any way that mattered.”
Alex produced a rather grubby and much-folded map of the local Underground system out from behind the bar, along with half a dozen cards from local taxi firms, a stuffed cat, and a dead beetle or two, and after a certain amount of argument and calculation (because the streets around Strangefellows aren’t always there when you need them), we finally decided the nearest Underground station entrance had to be Cheyne Walk. Within walking distance from the bar, under normal circumstances, which these weren’t, but still…it was reachable.
“I don’t like this,” said Ms. Fate. “It’s a war zone out there.”
We all stopped and listened to the chaos raging outside the bar. Even behind the shuttered windows and the locked doors, even behind Merlin’s ancient defences, we could still hear screams and howls, the rage of fires and the rumble of collapsing buildings. Raw hatred ran loose in the streets, and it was hard to tell what sounds were human and which weren’t, any more.
“So,” I said, trying hard to sound confident, “who’s coming with me?”
“I am,” said Suzie Shooter. “But you knew that already.”
“Yes,” I said. “My love.”
“I may puke,” said Alex.
“I can’t go with you,” said Walker. “I have responsibilities, to my people. Many of them are still out there, fighting. Someone has to stay here, to organise the resistance. In case you don’t come back. I will do my best to keep Lilith distracted while you make your run to Shadows Fall.”
“I’ll go with you, old thing,” said Tommy Oblivion, throwing his notebook aside. “I feel fine again. Honest! And I owe you more than I can ever repay. I was so wrong about you.”
“If you’re going, then I’m going, too,” his brother Larry said immediately. “You’ll need someone to watch your back. You always do.”
“You’re not coming, and that’s final!” snapped Tommy. “I don’t care if you are dead, one of us has to survive this mess, to look after Mother.”
Larry subsided, muttering under his breath. Razor Eddie drank the last of his designer water, tossed the bottle carelessly over his shoulder, and nodded to me.
“I’ll go. I’ve always wanted to see Shadows Fall.”
“I’m not going, and you can’t make me!” said Alex Morrisey. “I’ve got a bar to run. And no, you can’t have the Coltranes either. I need them, to protect the place.”
Alex couldn’t leave Strangefellows. The bar’s geas held him there. We all knew that, but he had a reputation to keep up.
“I cannot go to Shadows Fall,” said Merlin. “And no, I’m not going to tell you why. I’ll just say…you’d think such a proud, ancient, and legendary town would have more of a sense of humour about…certain things. I’ll stay here and keep Lilith’s attention focused on me. I’m pretty sure I can set up a glamour, to fool her into thinking Taylor’s still here with me. For a while, anyway…”
I looked at Julien Advent. “I really could use your help on this one, Julien…”
But he was already shaking his head. “I’m sorry, John. It’s my responsibility to protect the Nightside, not risk my life on such a long shot. I’ll help Walker run the resistance. I have contacts and associates and Beings who owe me favours that even he doesn’t know about.”
“I wouldn’t put money on that,” said Walker. “But thanks, Julien. I could use someone level-headed around here.”
“Who’s he looking at?” Alex said loudly. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. Like to see him run a dive like this. I can feel one of my funny turns coming on.”
In his own way, he was trying to cheer us up. I looked at Cathy before she could say anything.
“No,” I said, “you can’t come with me. You’d have to kill or be killed out there, and I won’t have that on my conscience.”
She nodded jerkily. Her eyes were full of tears she refused to shed. “You come back safe,” she said. “Or I’ll never forgive you.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” said Ms. Fate. “She’s stronger than you know.”
“You keep her safe,” I said. “Or I’ll come back from my death to haunt your Bat-cave.”
“You probably would, too,” said Ms. Fate. “I wish I could go with you, but I know my limitations. Good luck, Taylor.”
And that left Dead Boy. He scowled, shook his head, and finally shrugged. “Oh hell, why not? I could use a little excitement. Where did I put that duct tape…?”
“I could use my gift to transport you right to the station entrance,” Tommy said suddenly.
“No, you couldn’t,” I said. “Lilith will be looking for that. If she even guesses I’m heading for Shadows Fall, she’ll stop me.”
And that was that. People finished their drinks, said their good-byes, and set about preparing themselves for what was to come. Shotgun Suzie took me to one side, and looked at me solemnly. She put a leather-gloved hand on my chest and let it rest there, like a butterfly on a wall.
“I wanted us to have a moment together,” she said, in her cold calm voice. “Because…things can always go wrong, and we might not get a chance to say a proper good-bye, later. We’ve been through so much together, and if this is it, well…I need to say something to you, John. You…matter to me. No-one’s mattered to me for a long time. Not even me. Perhaps especially not me. But you…made me want to live again. So I could share my life with you. I care for you, John. I wanted you to know that.”
“I knew that, Suzie…”
“Shut up and let me say this. It isn’t easy. I love you, John Taylor, and I always will.”
She made herself hug me. Her leather jacket creaked loudly as she put her arms around me, and her bandoliers of bullets pressed hard against my chest. She put her head forward, and deliberately pressed her unscarred cheek against mine. Flesh to flesh. I held her gently, as though she was brittle and might break. I could feel the effort involved, in what she was doing, of how much strength it took her to do a simple thing like this, and I was so proud of her I could hardly get my breath.
“If we do both make it out of this alive,” she said, very quietly, her mouth right next to my ear, “I can’t promise I’ll ever be able to be a woman for you, John. But I will try.”
“Suzie…it doesn’t matter…”
“Yes it does! It matters to me. Do you love me, John?”
“Of course I love you, Suzie. Now and forever, and all the times between. I’d die for you, if I had to.”
“I’d much rather you lived for me.”
She let go of me and stood back. I let go of her immediately. I knew better than to push it. She looked at me, her face apparently entirely unmoved.
“I know about the future Suzie. I know what happened to her, here in this bar. You can’t keep secrets in a dump like this. You mustn’t worry about it, John. The future is what we make it.”
“That’s what worries me,” I said.
And so, finally, I led my brave little band of heroes out of the bar. Shotgun Suzie, Razor Eddie, Tommy Oblivion, and Dead Boy. I eased open the door, slowly, silently, and one by one we crept out into the narrow cobble-stoned back alley. It smelled really bad. The piled-up bodies I’d expected from Suzie’s defence were g
one, and it was best not to wonder where, but the blood and gore remained, splashed up the alley walls and soaking the cobbled ground. The air was hot and heavy, thick with old smoke, and an overbearing sense of a world running down, of things coming to an end. There were screams and roars and howls, all the sounds of death and destruction, horror and fury. The Nightside might be going down for the last time, but it sure as hell wasn’t going down quietly. I set off down the alley at a steady pace, ignoring the blood splashing under my shoes, trying hard to radiate confidence and a strong sense of purpose.
Suzie was right there at my side, shotgun at the ready, happy and smiling like a woman on her way to a really good party. Tommy and Eddie and Dead Boy moved along with us, and together we made our way to the end of the alley and looked cautiously out into the main street.
Fires blazed everywhere. Dead vehicles sprawled the length of the road, overturned and abandoned. A hearse had been broken apart from the inside out, and a taxi lay on its side with a wooden stake hammered through its engine block. Maddened crowds swept back and forth under a flickering twilight of burning buildings and half-smashed neon signs, attacking everything in sight. The noises they made didn’t sound human any more. Reason had been blasted from their minds, by loss and horror and Lilith’s will, leaving them only the most basic instincts and emotions. Men and women killed and ate each other, while monsters roamed freely, killing where they would and exhausting their various appetites on the fallen. Lilith was softening the Nightside up, before she went in for the kill. And because she enjoyed it.
“How the hell are we supposed to get to Cheyne Walk through that?” said Tommy.
“I’d suggest running,” said Suzie.
“I’d also strongly suggest killing anything that isn’t us,” said Dead Boy.
“Works for me,” said Razor Eddie. “But…loath as I am to be the voice of reason in this group, I really don’t like the odds out there. Too many of them, too few of us. Enough hyenas will bring down even the strongest lions. If we have to fight for every step of the way, they’ll drag us down long before we get anywhere near Cheyne Walk.”