his gaze was focused on her mildly swollen belly, and the look on his face was one I couldn't read, but which made me uncomfortable for some reason.
'My father visited me recently,' Devona said. 'Why didn't he say anything?'
'He might not have sensed the truth,' Varvara said. 'We Darklords, while more or less equally matched in power, possess different skills. Talaith and I are both more versatile when it comes to working magic than the boys are.' She paused. 'Then again, Galm might've had his own reasons for not telling you. But I assure you, it's true. You are carrying twins.'
I looked at Devona and she looked at me, and we both smiled. We'd once been trapped in a virtual reality in which we were a human couple living on Earth. In that dream scenario, we'd have two children, fraternal twins, a boy and a girl. Though they hadn't been real, we'd believed they were, and when we'd realized we were living in an illusion, we'd fought to free ourselves. But in doing so, the virtual reality vanished – including our two children. Even though they'd been nothing more than dreams, losing them had still hurt like hell. There was no way the babies Devona was carrying were those two dreams made flesh, I knew that. And yet… Nekropolis is a damned strange place, and the impossible happens here with almost monotonous regularity.
I decided to go back to being a loudmouth, since it's something I seem to have particular talent for. 'I'm surprised to see you so happy for us, Varvara. I didn't know you were the maternal type.'
The Demon Queen gave me a look I couldn't read. What is it with me and interpreting demonic facial expressions today? I thought.
'The Creche of the Demonkin lies in the caverns beneath Demon's Roost.' Her voice was even and without emotion, and I thought that I'd never heard her sound so dangerous before. 'I may not personally lay every egg incubated there, but I make damn sure they receive the very best care. And if a single egg fails to hatch due to the negligence of a caregiver, the penalty for that failure is dire indeed. Do you understand?'
Since I'm dead, I don't need to swallow, but I did so at that moment anyway. 'I do.'
She looked at me for a long moment, and then frowned. 'Is something wrong with your head? It looks a little lopsided.'
I'd been so concerned with not angering Varvara further that I'd momentarily allowed my concentration to lapse, and my neck's hold on my severed head had slackened. Luckily Varvara had said something before my head had slipped off and fallen to the floor. That would've been embarrassing, and I didn't want to think about what cutting remark Klamm might've made if it had happened. I concentrated, and my head and neck gripped each other tightly again.
'I'm all right,' I said, trying to sound casual.
Varvara looked me up and down, and though I didn't feel anything, I had the impression that she was mystically scanning me. When she was finished, her grin returned.
'Just try to keep it together, Matt.' She then turned to look at Varney, Shamika, and Scorch. 'The demoness I know, for am I not ultimately mother to all the Demonkin?'
She walked over to Scorch and gently touched her cheek. 'There's a war on, dear. Go downstairs and join the rest of your fellow soldiers.'
Scorch bowed her head. 'Yes, my queen.' She gave Devona and me an apologetic look before heading back to the elevator and getting on. As the door slid shut, she gave a thumbs-up to wish us luck. I didn't blame Scorch for leaving. She had no choice but to obey Varvara's command – not if she wanted to continue breathing, that is.
Varvara then turned to Varney and Shamika. 'And who are these two charming people?'
I introduced them, and Varvara gave Shamika a long look, scowling as if she were puzzled. But then she shook her head as if to clear it and focused her attention on Varney.
'I'm glad you're here,' she told him. 'You have my permission to film and broadcast anything you see. When this war is over, history will vindicate the Demonkin, and I want the citizens of Nekropolis to see what we do here this day.'
'My queen,' Klamm began, 'Do you really think that's wise? If the Arcane should somehow tap into the Bloodborn's signal…' He gave Varney a sideways look. 'Assuming he isn't an Arcane spy, that is.'
Varvara turned to Klamm and this time when she smiled, her mouth was full of shark's teeth. 'I'm not afraid of anyone, General. Least of all the Arcane. Please do your best to remember that.'
I had to give Klamm this: he was one cool customer. Anyone else would've fainted dead away to have Varvara talk to him like that, but he not only held steady, he replied in a calm voice. 'Of course, my queen. I meant no disrespect. But you made me a general because of my skill at intelligence-gathering. I would be remiss if I didn't point out the potential pitfalls of allowing a cameraman with cybernetic implants access to our war room.' He paused. 'Especially right now.'
Varvara looked at Klamm for a moment, shark teeth still bared, but then she sighed and nodded. She closed her mouth, and when she opened it again, her teeth had returned to normal.
'I suppose you're right.' She looked at Varney. 'If you're not a spy, I apologize for this.'
She waved her riding crop, and Varney yelped as his cybernetic eye exploded in a shower of sparks. The flesh around the eye blackened as it burned, but Varney was Bloodborn, and the injury began repairing itself almost immediately. Too bad his camera eye couldn't be fixed as easily. He looked as if he wanted to protest, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. He was lucky that Varvara hadn't decided to completely incinerate him on the spot, and he doubtless knew it.
Devona stood next to Shamika, a comforting arm around the girl's shoulders. Shamika didn't seem all that intimidated by Varvara, even though the Demon Queen had just used her magic to burn out Varney's camera eye and could use her powers to do worse to us at any moment. Instead, Shamika's attention was focused on General Klamm. The girl stared at him, her gaze intense, but I couldn't tell if she was afraid of him or fascinated with him. Or both.
There was a lot about Shamika I hadn't been able to get a handle on, and it was really starting to bug me.
Klamm was aware of the girl's interest in him, and he returned her look with a knowing smirk that made her avert her gaze.
Varvara turned to me then. 'You know I always enjoy catching up with you, Matt, but as you might imagine, I'm a wee bit busy at the moment, what with planning a retaliatory strike on Talaith and all. So why don't you tell me why you came to see me, and then we can both get on with the rest of our day.'
I tried to decide how to begin. I couldn't tell her that Dis had asked me to investigate the disappearances of the magic-users in the hope that I might learn something that would stop this war. Dis needed to maintain the appearance of neutrality in the dispute between Varvara and Talaith, and I was determined to keep his involvement in the case quiet, more for my sake than his. The last thing I wanted to do was to make a god mad at me.
'Papa Chatha is missing,' I said. I quickly filled her in on what little we knew. 'That's why Shamika is with us,' I finished. 'She's helping us search for her uncle.'
'Her uncle?' Klamm said. 'Do you have any proof that she's related to Papa Chatha? Had any of you met her before today or even so much as heard Papa mention her?'
'Are you implying that Shamika's a spy?' Devona said, flashing Klamm a little fang to show what she thought of him.
'She is Arcane,' Klamm said. 'And by appealing to your sympathies, she's managed not only to worm her way into Demon's Roost, but into Varvara's war room.'
I started to protest, but then I thought about what Klamm said. He had a point – one that I didn't want to examine too closely lest I become as paranoid as him.
'What do you want from me, Matt?' Varvara asked. 'And make it fast: I'm busy planning a war, you know.'
With Varvara, I've found that the direct approach works best, and the bold-as-hell approach works even better.
'I want you to release Papa – and the other magic-users while you're at it. Then you and Talaith can make nice, and the rest of us can get on with our lives, such as they are.'
Varvara's green eyes blazed with baleful light, and her expression became one of cold fury. I could feel power building around her, and I knew I was a hair's breadth away from being turned into zombie fricassee.
I gave her a lopsided grin. 'Come on – you knew I was going to ask.'
