Dale kept his empty gun trained on the warlock, and with his free hand he gestured to me behind his back. Get ready.
My left hand still had fragments of glass in it-and still hurt like hell-but my gun-hand was free and uninjured, and I took a half-step behind Dale to cover my motion from Yberio as I reached into my jacket pocket and removed the last device we’d managed to acquire in the Sprawl. It looked like a simple pocket watch, old and badly in need of polishing, but otherwise unremarkable. Lady Varvara-who was very displeased that Talaith had made use of her dimension portal in her latest scheme to attack Lord Edrigu-had given the device to us before we left the Sprawl. She’d said it was called the Death Watch and that all we would have to do was push the switch to activate it when the right time came. After that, we’d know what to do.
I hoped like hell she was right-and that she was telling the truth. She was a demon, after all, and her kind had a reputation for being somewhat lacking in the truth-telling department.
If Yberio had seen me take hold of the Death Watch, he gave no sign. Perhaps he simply thought he was too powerful to worry about whatever meager magics Dale and I might have acquired during our brief stay in Nekropolis.
“You gentlemen were quite correct in your earlier surmise,” the warlock said. “I did use magic to kill those people. The spell is a quite simple one, really.” He smiled coldly. “Allow me to demonstrate it to you.”
That sure as hell sounded like a cue to me. I thumbed the switch atop the Death Watch, and the black hands on the clock face began spinning wildly. Dark energy spread outward from the watch, so cold that it felt as if I’d plunged my hand into ice water. I wanted to drop the damned thing, but I forced myself to hold on to it.
Talaith continued chanting, but she shot me a quick look, and her eyes widened in shock when she saw what I held. Yberio stared at the Death Watch and the spreading ebon energy that surrounded it, his jaw hanging open in a way that might’ve been comical in other circumstances.
“You can’t possibly have that!” Yberio shouted. “There’s no way you could’ve gained possession of a token of such power!
Talaith broke off her chanting to yell at him. “Don’t be an idiot! That bitch Varvara must’ve have given it to them! But it doesn’t matter how those poor excuses for mortals came by it, just kill the morons before they can use it!”
Yberio’s head jerked as if she’d just physically slapped him, and he blinked several times before raising his hand and pointing his index finger at me. I understood then what was going to happen to me: Yberio was going to use his magic to stop my heart, just as he had done with the seven men and women he’d killed on Earth. By this time the dark energy emanating from the Death Watch had formed a black sphere around my hand about the size of a soccer ball. My hand felt frozen, and I could sense tremendous power building up within the sphere, but I still had no idea what to do with it.
C’mon, Varvara…you said I’d know what to do when the time came…
Yberio spoke a word and a thin beam of white light shot forth from his finger and headed straight toward me. But Dale threw himself between me and the warlock, and the light speared him straight through the heart instead. He made no sound, but his entire body stiffened as if a massive electric current passed through him, and then he simply collapsed to the floor. No final words, no last look passing between us. It was like Yberio had reached inside my partner, found his life switch, and flipped it off.
Yberio grinned as he looked down at Dale’s corpse, then he raised his head to look at me.
“That’s eight,” he said. “And you’ll make nine.” He lifted his hand and aimed his index finger at me.
And then, just as Varvara had promised, I understood what I had to do.
“Fuck you-” I looked to Talaith-“both.” And then I turned to the Overmind and thrust the hand holding the Death Watch into the pulpy mass of the gigantic brain. I heard Talaith shout “No!” followed by the sharp sensation of Yberio’s magic beam cutting through me. And then I heard the Overmind’s voice in my mind-a chorus of six voices combined, actually, and it whispered two words:
Thank you.
And then a darkness blacker, deeper, and colder than anything I had ever imagined rushed in to fill me, and I knew nothing more.
“When I woke up, the Overmind was nothing but a pool of necrotized tissue on the floor on the metal chamber, the cables that had attached it to the walls dangling useless in the air. I crawled over to Dale-my limbs were stiff and uncooperative, and at the time I thought it was just due to the aftershock of the Over-mind’s destruction-and I checked his pulse. I wasn’t surprised to find he no longer had one. Yberio and Talaith were both lying on the floor as well. I assumed they’d been hit by some kind of psychic or magical backlash when the Overmind exploded, but I had no idea if it would cause them any permanent damage. After all, I was still alive. Or so I thought.
“I checked their pulses. Yberio didn’t have one. Talaith did, but hers was weak. I was a cop-supposedly one of the good guys-but I confess at that moment, I seriously considering wrapping my hands around Talaith’s throat and finishing what the destruction of the Overmind had started. Instead, I turned away and did a quick search for the Death Watch. I’d lost my grip on the device when I blacked out, I couldn’t find it in the mess of what remained of the Overmind. For all I know the Death Watch was destroyed, but if not, I suppose Talaith has it. I really don’t know, and to tell you the truth, I don’t care. I gave up looking for the watch, picked up Dale’s body, and carried him out of the chamber.”
Devona, who’d been listening to my story as raptly as Arvel, if not more so, put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed hard enough so I’d be sure to feel it. “I’m sorry for your loss, Matt.”
I nodded my thanks for her sympathy. Dale was a good man, a good partner, and a good friend. I don’t know how I would’ve made it through my divorce if he hadn’t been there for me. He saved my life more than once on the streets of Cleveland, and in the end he’d given his own life so that I could live a few moments longer to finish the last case we’d ever work together.
“He was a hell of a cop, and he died in the line of duty.” It was all the epitaph I could bring myself to say aloud, but maybe it was enough.
“Yberio was a Demilord,” Arvel said, “one of the high-ranking Darkfolk who, while extremely strong, weren’t quite powerful enough to be chosen by Dis to help him create Nekropolis. There’s been no mention of him on the streets for the last couple years.” The ghoul smiled with his blood-stained lamprey mouth. “Now I know why.”
“What happened to Talaith?” Devona asked.
“She’s a Darklord,” I said. “I assume her powers enabled her to withstand the blast, but considerably weakened. She’s recovered some since then, but she’s still not up to her full strength. Needless to say, I haven’t been to Glamere many times since. And I make sure to watch my back when any Arcane are around.”
Arvel smacked his lips. “A most…delicious story, Mr. Richter. But you left out one salient detail: how you became a zombie.”
“Remember how I said the murder victims showed no sign of external injuries? It’s because Yberio threw a deathspell at them and stopped their hearts instantly. That’s how Dale died, and Yberio did the same to me-just as I released the power of the Death Watch into the Overmind. Somehow, Yberio’s spell, the Death Watch’s magic, and the release of psychic energy when the Overmind died all combined and when I awoke, I was dead, but in a way still alive, too.” I shrugged. “That’s Papa Chatha’s theory, anyway.”
“Fascinating!” Arvel gushed. “I knew some of the details, of course, but I’ve never heard the full story. Tell me, what arrangements did you make for the disposal of Mr. Ramsey’s remains?”
I felt a wave of anger and disgust. Ghouls had an unhealthy preoccupation with dead bodies, and I wasn’t about to tell Arvel where and how I’d laid Dale to rest, just in case the gluttonous monster decided to go in search of my dear, departed partner.
“Not to be rude,” I said, not caring if I was or not, “but my associate and I are in something of a hurry.”
“Ah, another case full of danger and intrigue! You must let me know how it turns out!”
“I will,” I said. It was an easy promise to make, since I knew there was a chance I might not be around to keep it. “Now if you could quid quo pro us right back?”
“I’ll be happy to answer your questions; once I’ve finished attending to nature’s call, that is.”
I was about to ask if he needed any help getting up, but then I noticed the large metal washtub beneath his chair. Arvel clicked his teeth and Carbuncle scuttled over and pulled a lever on the side of the ghoul’s chair, releasing a trap door in the seat.
As the next few moments passed-along with a number of other things-I was more grateful than ever that I
