had no idea what I could hope to do as a disembodied spirit-I just knew I had to do something. I wished Lyra were here to give me a few pointers. She’d spent enough time as a spirit and probably could…And then it hit me. Lyra and Honani, one soul exchanged for another.
I didn’t have a spell designed by Papa Chatha to aid me, but I did have a hell of a lot of determination. I concentrated on drifting toward the Sentinel, who was still unmercifully blasting Father Dis with the Dawnstone.
More specifically, I aimed for the gash in the thing’s chest.
I slipped into the Sentinel’s body and was suddenly aware of another consciousness within it. A fragmented, alien consciousness that I experienced as a million tiny voices whispering back and forth to each other. And then I sensed the voices become aware of me and begin speaking as one, only they weren’t whispering this time: they were shouting-shouting for me to get out.
But I wasn’t about to go anywhere. I concentrated my entire will on merging with the Sentinel, on becoming one with it, being it. I could feel the alien presence’s grip on the golem begin to weaken, and I took advantage of the opportunity to seize control of the Sentinel’s arms.
The alien presence shrieked within my mind as I brought the crystal to the chest of the body we shared, pried open the gash, and aimed the stone within. I sensed that all I needed to do to activate the Dawnstone was will it.
I did.
Light flooded through our shared being, and I could hear the presence’s agonized screams, feel its death throes. And then the presence was gone, and the Dawnstone’s light grew dim and went out altogether, leaving me alone in the Sentinel’s body.
I began to feel my thoughts slipping away then, to feel my very Self begin to dissolve into an approaching night that was warm, welcoming, and eternal.
I didn’t care, though. All that mattered was Nekropolis-and more importantly, Devona-was safe. I only wished I’d had a chance to say goodbye.
TWENTY-FOUR
I walked down the steps into Gregor’s basement, my flashlight on high this time. I half expected him not to be there, but he was, crouching against the wall in his usual position, masses of his children-more than normal, I thought-all around him, covering the walls, floor, and ceiling. The ones scuttling across the floor remained outside my flashlight beam, but only just.
“Hello, Matthew,” Gregor said.
“You don’t seem very surprised to see me alive, or at least my version of alive. But then you wouldn’t be, would you? We never did find the child of yours which Devona carried in her head. She thought it had somehow been destroyed by her proximity to the light of the Dawnstone. But it really escaped while Devona was half unconscious with pain and came back here to report to you, didn’t it?”
“Getting into the Nightspire is one thing,” Gregor said. “Getting out another. Your surmise is correct.”
“Why’d you implant it in her? As a sort of fail-safe device?”
“As a precaution, in case either of you came too close to interfering with the plan. We would have tried to manipulate you into hosting one of us, Matthew, but we knew you would never agree to it.”
“You were right. Speaking of people being right, I’m still shocked that crazy Carl actually reported a legitimate story.”
“Even a lunatic is occasionally correct,” Gregor said.
“That’s what you are, isn’t it? One of the Watchers from Outside…meaning outside the city.”
“Yes, but despite our pose as Gregor, it is incorrect to refer to use as separate individuals. We are One.”
“That’s what I saw back in the Cathedral, when I looked out the window over the Null Plains and viewed what I took to be shifting waves of darkness. It was really millions upon millions of bugs, wasn’t it? Millions of bits and pieces of you.”
Gregor, or at least the part of the Watchers’ group mind that appeared to be Gregor, nodded.
I became aware of insects gathering quietly around us. I had no doubt that if I turned to look, I’d find the entrance to the stairs blocked. But I continued talking.
“You know, I always wondered just what species you were. You didn’t seem like any other being in Nekropolis. Now I know why.”
“This dimension is our home, and has been for more years than your birth planet has existed. When Dis and the Darklords first entered this dimension and created Nekropolis, we had no idea what had happened, for as One we had no concept of otherness. No concept of invasion. But we learned. We entered the city, tunneling beneath the flaming barrier of Phlegethon, and we spread throughout Nekropolis. It took over fifty of your years before we began to understand what had taken place, understand that others had come to our home, had stolen part of it and claimed it as their own. We became determined to do what anyone from your world would do in similar circumstances: repel the invaders and reclaim what was ours.
“We merely observed for the next century, learning as much as we could about Nekropolis and its denizens, their strengths and weaknesses, desires and fears, wants and needs. And when we felt we had learned enough, we decided it was time to begin. We created the guise of Gregor and began trading information. Not because we needed it; we collected more than enough on our own. But because we wished to make contacts with others that would be able to serve us. This is why we aided you over the last two years, Matthew, in the hope that we might eventually find a way to use you. Unfortunately for us, you proved adept at resisting manipulation.
“As the years passed, we slowly, cautiously began to shape the course of events in Nekropolis. Through our agents, we helped foment dissent between the Darklords, founded the Dominari and the Hidden Light, established street gangs, encouraged the growth of crime on all levels. We worked especially hard to make sure the Darklords did not cut off all contact with Earth. We wanted not only to make certain the Others had a way to leave our dimension, but that the developing technology from their former homeworld would continue to flow into the city to provide us more tools to fight with. And for the next two centuries, we gathered information, made contacts, manipulated, plotted, and schemed. And finally we saw our opportunity.”
“The Dawnstone,” I said.
“Gregor” nodded. “We have worked hard the last dozen or so years aiding the development of various thaumaturgically enhanced drugs such as tangleglow and mind dust. But when one of our agents created veinburn, a drug so powerful it would prove addictive even to the strongest of supernatural beings, we realized its awesome potential. As Gregor, we made arrangements with the Dominari to begin producing veinburn in limited quantities-”
“And made sure Morfran, who was the supplier to a bloodson of a Darklord, distributed it.”
“Yes. Varma, indolent pleasure-seeker that he was, eagerly sampled Morfran’s new product. And from that moment on, he was ours. By threatening to cut off his supply of veinburn, we convinced Varma to cooperate with us. He told us anything we wanted to know, all the secrets of his father that he was privy to. Including the contents of his vaunted Collection. And we learned of the Dawnstone.
“We had acquired much mystical knowledge over the last few centuries, and were instantly aware of the potential a crystal that produced actual sunlight would have here in a city of darkness. The Renewal Ceremony was fast approaching, and we realized it would be the perfect time to strike, for if Dis and the Darklords could not revitalize Umbriel-the power source which actually maintains the existence of Nekropolis within this dimension-the city would be destroyed and we would finally have gotten rid of the hated Others.”
“So you had Varma steal the Dawnstone. After using your magical know-how to make sure his aura matched his father’s so that he could get past Galm’s wardspells.”
The insects were all around me now; I was surrounded by solid walls of them. Only the illumination of my flashlight protected me. Still, I did nothing.
Gregor went on. “Varma delivered the Dawnstone, and we resumed his supply of veinburn. We saw no need to slay him at that time; there was no chance he would report his crime to Lord Galm, and we did not wish to draw
