and a few even I didn’t recognise. All the objects of death, and not one of life.
“I thought there might be at least a few mourners,” said Suzie.
“Not many come here to visit,” said Eddie. “I mean, would you? Now follow me and walk carefully. There are concealed traps here, for the uninvited and the unwary.”
Suzie brightened up a bit. “You mean some of those stone gargoyles might come to life? I could use some target practice.”
“Possibly,” said Razor Eddie. “But mostly I was thinking about bear traps and land mines. The Necropolis takes security very seriously. Stick to the gravel path, and we should be safe enough.”
“I never get to go anywhere nice,” I said, wistfully.
I fired up my gift, hoping that since I was closer to Cathy, it would at least be able to provide me with a direction. My Sight was limited, in this new dimension. There was no hidden world here, no secret lives for me to See; just the dead, lying at peace in their gravesж and mausoleums, like so many silent strangers at the feast. And yet there was a feeling… of being watched, by unseen eyes. I tried to focus in on Cathy, but a strangely familiar shadow still hid her exact position from me. At least I had a direction.
I set off down the gravel path, with Suzie Shooter and Razor Eddie on either side of me. Suzie had her shotgun in her hands, alert for any opportunity to show off what she did best. Eddie strolled along, his hands in his pockets, his unblinking eyes missing nothing, nothing at all. The sound of our feet crunching the gravel was uncomfortably loud, announcing our coming. I watched the shadows between the stone mausoleums, ready for any sudden attack from behind the larger tombstones; but I wasn’t at all ready for what lay in wait for us around an abrupt corner.
They were sitting at a picnic around a pristine white cloth, laid out on a long earth barrow. There was a food hamper, with plates of cucumber sandwiches and sausage rolls and nibbles on sticks, and a bottle of quite decent champagne chilling in an ice bucket. And smiling calmly back at us—Tommy Oblivion, the existential detective, and Sandra Chance, the consulting necromancer. Tommy’s usual New Romantic silks were mostly concealed under a heavy fur coat, but he still managed a certain dated style. He smiled easily at us, showing off a broad, toothy grin in his long, horsey face, and toasted me with a brimming glass of bubbly. Sandra just glared coldly, pale of face and red of hair, wearing nothing but apparently random splashes of dark crimson liquid latex from chin to toe. She looked like a vampire after a really messy meal, and not by accident. Sandra went out of her way to make an impression on people. Supposedly, the liquid latex also contained holy water and other useful protections. The tattoo on her back could make angels vomit and demons hyperventilate. Interestingly enough, she’d had all of the steel piercings in her face and body removed, recently enough that some of the holes were still closing. A simple leather belt, carrying a series of tanned pouches holding the tools of her unpleasant trade, surrounded her waist. She didn’t feel the cold because she thrived in graveyards. Sandra Chance loved the dead —and sometimes even more, if that was what it took to get them to talk.
We’d worked together on a few cases, successfully, if not entirely happily. Sandra only cared about getting results, and to hell with whoever got caught in the crossfire. I liked to think that wasn’t true of me, any more.
“Hello, old thing,” said Tommy Oblivion. “So glad you could join us. And you’ve brought company! How sweet. Do sit down and have a little something with us, and a splash of champers. I think it’s terribly important we all remain civilised in situations like this, don’t you?”
“Want me to shoot him?” said Suzie.
“I’m thinking about it,” I said. “Hello, Tommy. I should have known it was you, with your existential gift, hiding Cathy. Still sticking with the effete image, I see.”
He flapped his long, bony fingers in an affable sort of way. “Stay with what works, that’s what I say.”
“How’s your brother?”
“Still dead. But he says he’s starting to get used to it. And he’s a better private eye now than he ever was while he was alive.”
“I think that’s enough civilities,” I said. “Tell me where Cathy is, or I’ll have Suzie shoot you somewhere really unfortunate.”
“Any violence and you’ll never see her again,” said Sandra. Her voice was deep and vibrant and bitter as cyanide. “You’ll never find Cathy Barrett without our help.”
“Where is she?” I said, and my voice was colder than the night. Tommy and Sandra sat up a little straighter.
“She’s sleeping peacefully,” said Sandra. “In one of these graves. I put a spell on her, then Tommy and I opened up a grave, put her in it, and covered her over again. She’s quite safe, for the time being. All you have to do is turn yourself in to Walker, and Tommy and I will dig her up and return her safely to the Nightside. Of course, the longer she stays underground, the more difficult it will be to wake her from the spell…”
“Of course,” I said. “You’re never happy with a spell unless it’s got a sting in the tail.” I looked at Tommy. “Why are you doing this? Sandra I can understand. I’ve never known her to balk at anything if the price was right. But you… what happened to those principles you used to trumpet so loudly? Cathy’s the only innocent in this whole business.”
His cheeks flushed a little, but he held my gaze steadily. “Needs must when the devil drives, old sport. You’re just too dangerous to be allowed to run loose any more. I saw what you did with Merlin and Nimue, remember? You don’t care about anyone or anything, except getting your own way.”
“No,” said Razor Eddie. “That’s not true.”
We all glanced at him, a little startled. He was so quiet and still it was easy to forget he was there.
“You have to be stopped,” said Tommy, a little more loudly than was necessary. “You’re cold and ruthless and…”
“You got back from the Past months ago,” I said, talking right over him. “Why didn’t you do something before this? Why wait till now?”
“I was keeping my head down, out of sight, while I thought things through,” said Tommy. He was trying hard not to sound defensive. “I put a lot of thought into how best to stop you. It took me a while to admit I couldn’t hope to do it alone. So I came up with this plan, and went to Walker with it, and he put me together with Sandra. Not at all a nice plan, I agree, but you brought it on yourself. Fight fire with fire, and all that. You might say… this was my last test for you, John. One last chance to see what you’re really made of, to see if you care for anyone other than yourself. Prove me wrong about you. Prove to me and to Walker that you’re not the evil we think you are by turning yourself in. And I give you my word that Cathy will be released, entirely unharmed.”
“I can’t,” I said, trying hard to make him hear the need and urgency and honesty in my voice. “My mother Lilith is back, and she’s worse than I’ll ever be. I’m the only one who can stop her from destroying the Nightside.”
“Such arrogance,” said Sandra. “We’ll stop her, after we’ve dealt with you.”
“I could blow your head right off your shoulders,” Suzie Shooter said casually.
“You could try,” said Sandra Chance. The two women smiled at each other easily. Sandra leaned forward to put down her champagne glass, and Suzie moved her shotgun slightly to keep her covered. “I am a necromancer,” said Sandra. “And this is my place of power. With this much death to draw on, even the Punk God of the Straight Razor can’t hope to stand against me. Your presence here was not expected or required, little god. This is nothing to do with you.”
“Yes it is,” said Eddie. “I know what you found in the future, John. I know who you found. I’ve always known.”
I looked at him sharply. I saw him die, in the Timeslip future. I helped him to die. But I never told anyone.
He shrugged easily. “I’m a god, remember?”
“This doesn’t have to end in violence,” Tommy said urgently, sensing the undercurrents. “You know I’m an honourable man, John.”
“You might be,” I said. “But Sandra works for Walker. And Walker… has his own very personal take on honour, when it comes to the Nightside. He’d sacrifice any number of innocents to preserve the Nightside for the Authorities.”
“He was supposed to be here,” said Tommy, frowning slightly. “To reassure you of his good intentions. But unfortunately he was called away. It seems something really unpleasant is happening on the Street of the Gods.”
