large armored creature who resembled a bipedal armadillo. They were all armed, and the woman and armadillo lowered devices that looked like high-tech guns whose barrels were covered with glass. I assumed those were the illuminaries, the weapons that had blasted us with light, and I wondered how I might be able to get hold of one for myself. There are a lot of Darkfolk who aren't especially fond of light, and a device like that would come in handy in my line of work.
The man held some sort of scanning device in his other hand, while Maggie and the armadillo both held offensive weapons. The armadillo held a small crossbow armed with silver-tipped bolts, while Maggie held a gun that looked to be covered in snakeskin.
'Is that a serpent's tooth?' I asked her. I'd heard of the weapon, but never actually seen one.
She smiled. 'Nothing sharper, and the venom the teeth carry is deadly to any form of life, natural or supernatural.'
'I'm surprised to see a member of the Hidden Light carrying a weapon so nasty,' I said.
She shrugged. 'God filled the Omniverse with tools for his servants to use. This is but one of them.' Then she smiled. 'But I have to admit, this one kicks particular ass.'
The devices weren't the only weapons the three had. Maggie wore a golden cross around her neck, as did the man, who also wore a Star of David, an ankh, a yin-yang symbol, a Native American dreamcatcher, a Celtic knot, a triple moon, and several other symbols I didn't recognize. It looked like he believed in being prepared. The armadillo wore nothing – I mean that literally; he was naked. It appeared he was content to rely on his illuminary and crossbow. Then again, since he was obviously Darkfolk of some kind, perhaps wearing holy symbols was too uncomfortable for him.
These three weren't the only ones come to greet us, however. A half-dozen men and women stood behind them, armed with everything from automatic machine guns to gleaming broadswords, and from the grim looks of determination on their faces, they were more than ready and willing to use their weapons if necessary.
Maggie looked us over for a moment more before lowering her serpent's tooth. Then she looked over her shoulder.
'Stand down. I'll take responsibility for these three.'
One by one, the men and women lowered their weapons and moved off.
The armadillo kept his crossbow trained on us a moment longer, but in the end he lowered it as well. The man with the scanner continued pointing it at Shamika and fussing with the controls, as if he were determined to wring some kind of reading out of it.
Maggie tucked her serpent's tooth into a leather holster on her belt, then came forward and shook my left hand. She showed no distaste upon touching my undead flesh, and my estimation of her went up a notch. Many people say they don't have a prejudice against zombies, but ask them to touch one, and you'll find out differently. Not Maggie, though.
'So this is what you really look like, I take it.'
She was in her sixties and shorter than me, though not by much. Her silver hair was cut short, and she wore jeans and a white T-shirt displaying a cartoon image of Christ holding a razor, his beard covered with white foam, below it the words JESUS SHAVES!
'In the flesh,' she said. 'No need for disguises here.' Maggie turned toward her two companions. 'The big guy in the leathery shell is Houston. He's a weremadillo.'
'I never would've guessed,' I said.
Houston gave me a hard look. 'Don't mess with Texas,' he growled.
'Duly noted,' I said.
'And this trim fellow here is Arthur Van Helsing. He's one of our best researchers.'
Arthur wore wire frame glasses that made his eyes look larger than they really were. His unruly brown hair was badly in need of trimming, and from the pallor of his skin, it looked like he could use a few days in a tanning bed. He wore a white lab coat that was marred by several stains and scorch marks. His T-shirt said VAMPIRES SUCK! Varney's lip curled in a silent snarl when he saw it, but the Bloodborn said nothing.
'I take it you've decided not to destroy us,' I said.
'For the moment,' Maggie said. 'Come on in, and try not to look around too much. This is supposed to be a secret headquarters, you know.' She turned and walked away. Arthur followed her, casting backward glances at Shamika as if he was still trying to figure out what she was. Houston waited for us to follow, the big lyke clearly intending to bring up the rear and keep an eye on us. I was certain his crossbow bolts weren't merely silver-tipped; they were probably dipped in all kinds of nasty poisons and blessed seven ways to Sunday. They'd prove deadly to Varney, probably to me, and maybe even to Shamika – or at least this particular component of the Watchers' group mind calling itself Shamika. It was a strong incentive to remain on our best behavior.
The Hidden Light's HQ was located in a hollowedout cavern, fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling and power cables stretching along the floor near the walls. Workstations were set up throughout the cavern, and while some contained books, scrolls, and parchments, just as many held high-tech computers and shimmering holo displays. Most of the men and women at the workstations were human, but there was a fair number of Darkfolk scattered among them. Maggie must've noticed me looking at them, for she said, 'Just because someone's a monster doesn't mean they don't have spiritual needs.' She paused, then added, 'Sometimes they need the Light even more.'
'Traitors,' Varney muttered.
Arthur turned around to look at him as if he intended to comment, but when Varney saw the holy objects around the man's neck, he hissed and averted his gaze.
'Sorry about that,' Arthur said, sounding embarrassed. Arthur tucked the scanner he'd been holding into a pocket of his lab coat, rummaged around in there, then brought out a pair of dark glasses which he held out to Varney. 'Put these on. They won't take away the pain entirely, but they should make it bearable.'
Varney hesitated, but he took the glasses from Arthur and donned them. He looked at Arthur, then at Maggie, then back to Arthur.
'It is better,' Varney said. 'Thank you.' He sounded as if it took some effort for him to express his gratitude, and Arthur seemed equally uncomfortable accepting it.
'You're, ah, welcome. We call them diffusers. They're made from solidified shadow caught in a highly focused time-dilation field.' He became more enthusiastic as he went on. 'We have more call for them than you might think. We actually have Bloodborn in our organization, some of them quite high up in your people's hierarchy, and-'
Maggie cut in. 'The less we tell them the better, Arthur.'
He looked chastened. 'You're right, of course. Sorry.'
The men and women around us represented a number of different ethnicities and religions, and while many were dressed in normal street clothes, more than a few wore clothing that indicated their religious tradition. I saw Catholic priests and nuns, Moslem clerics, Hasidic Jews, Buddhist monks, Shinto monks, and Hindu swamis. They worked side by side in apparent harmony, without any obvious conflict due to their different backgrounds and philosophies.
Well, harmony might be overstating the case. Right then the men and women of the Hidden Light were more than a bit agitated, moving quickly from one workstation to another, consulting with each other in front of computer monitors and holo displays, or talking loudly into voxes and microphone headsets. The atmosphere reminded me of Varvara's war room, and I assumed it was for the same reasons.
'I assume it's not always this lively down here,' I said to Maggie.
She said, 'Hardly. Right now, we have a Situation with a capital S to deal with – as you well know.'
'You mean the war?' Shamika asked.
Maggie laughed. 'Goodness, no, child! What do we care if the Darkfolk want to go around slaughtering each other? More than usual, that is. Nekropolis is their city, and if they want to war with each other, that's their business, regrettable though it may be.'
'That attitude seems a little more 'eye for an eye' than 'turn the other cheek,'' I said.
Maggie led us through the maze of workstations and people, and stopped before a rectangular glass structure that resembled a coffin – probably because sealed inside was the perfectly preserved body of a man wearing brown robes, a rope belt, and sandals. His hair was cut in a tonsure, making him look like a slimmed-down version of Robin Hood's Friar Tuck.
Maggie turned to look at me. 'The Hidden Light has a clearly defined mission, Matthew, and keeping peace
