Tim Waggoner: Nekropolis

“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 any undue attention to the theft of the Dawnstone. Eventually, of course, it became necessary to have him killed in order to keep him from talking to you. He was a pathetic, weak creature, and would have told you everything with little prompting on your part.

“We had previously managed to implant some pieces of ourself into one of Dis’s Sentinels, and we realized we could use it to ferry the Dawnstone into the Nightspire and then, once inside, use it to attack Dis and disrupt the Renewal Ceremony.”

“So you stuck the Dawnstone inside the Sentinel, and waited for it to be recalled for the Ceremony. Tell me, why did you leave a scar on the Sentinel, even a faint one?”

“Our mystic knowledge, gleaned as it has been in scattered fragments over the centuries, is less than complete. The spells Dis used to create the Sentinels were unfamiliar to us, and we could only partially heal the golem’s flesh. We had no choice but to go forward with the plan and hope no one would notice.”

“I should have known it was you all along, Gregor. One of your children was on the wall listening when I first spoke with Devona. You were the only being in the city besides the two of us who knew we were investigating the theft of the Dawnstone, the only one who could have sent the Red Tide vampires to kill us after we left the Great Library.”

“We knew you, Matthew. You wouldn’t let go of this until you saw it through to the end, one way or another. You had to be stopped. Ms. Kanti was of lesser importance. If she had been been killed, it would have been solely due to her association with you.”

“How did you manipulate the Red Tide members?”

“They were pathetically simple-minded creatures. To secure their services, we had only to promise them unlimited access to whatever technology they wished. They were no different than Varma, in that regard. They cared only for seeing their lusts fulfilled. Vampires’ need for blood tends to make them highly addictive personalities in other regards.”

“Thanks for the psychology lesson.” The insects were only inches away from me now, and edging closer all the time. “I suppose you were behind all the attempts on our lives?”

“Most of them. Through various agents, we made sure Thokk knew you were in the Broken Cross, and that Talaith was aware of your passage through her realm. And of course, we made certain the Red Tide vampires were waiting for you after you left here. We also had the Dominari order Yberio and Skully to kill you. Unfortunately, the warlock proved too weak for the task, and Skully prized your friendship more than he feared his masters.”

“And the insect we saw in the alley?”

“An error. It was one which we had implanted in Varma in order to keep track of him. The sheer amount of veinburn the Red Tide vampires injected into Varma was enough to affect the child, and slow its escape long enough for you to see it.”

The writhing, softly chittering wall of darkness that surrounded my back and sides was only an inch away now. I knew if I swept my flashlight beam around, they would scurry off. But I kept the light shining at my feet. I wanted to lure as many of them into the basement as possible.

“I understand why you misled us into thinking Talaith might be behind the Dawnstone’s theft; you wanted to draw attention away from yourself. But why did you tell us the truth about Morfran being a veinburn supplier?”

“Because the best lies are those mixed with some truth. And if the Red Tide vampires failed to kill you, we hoped that Morfran would lead you to Skully, who would finish you off. A hope that was in vain, as it turned out. It is a shame our plan failed, but we are nothing if not patient. We came close this time, and we shall succeed the next, whether it be tomorrow or a hundred years from now.”

“I’m glad to see you’re maintaining an optimistic outlook.”

“We would have succeeded if not for you, Matthew. You have a fine, incisive mind and excellent instincts. Join us; help us free our home from the scourge of Others which infests it.”

“Help you?” I said incredulously. “After everything that’s happened, everything you’ve done, how can you even ask such a thing?”

“Because I have something to offer you, Matthew. I can make you mortal again.”

“You’re lying.”

“The child Ms. Kanti hosted remained hidden in the Nightspire long enough to witness the Renewal Ceremony completed and Dis reward you for saving his city by removing your spirit from the Sentinel and restoring your body to you. But he didn’t return you fully to life, did he?”

“He said it was beyond his power, that I had been a zombie too long to make me human again.”

“Perhaps it is beyond the capabilities of Dis, but it is not beyond ours. Remember what you said when I asked you how you felt about being a zombie? You said you were a freak, trapped in a body that was little more than a numb piece of meat. Cut off from the world around you, on the outside of life. A pale memory of the man who was once Matthew Richter. We can end your suffering, Matthew. Help us destroy the invaders and we shall make you live again.”

I didn’t respond.

“Surely you have no love for this city or its inhabitants. Your kind regard them as monsters: unnatural, unholy things. You would be doing creation a favor by helping us destroy them.”

“After nearly two years as a walking dead man, it’s hard to see others as monsters, Gregor.”

“Then consider it justice. This is our home; the Others are trespassers. They have no right to live in this dimension, no right to befoul it with their obscene otherness. Help us be rid of them, and we shall make you a man once more and use one of the Darklords’ portals to return you to Earth. Perhaps you will not be able to resume your life where you left off, but at least you may begin a new one.”

“Sorry, Gregor, but I can’t do that. Maybe Dis and the Darklords shouldn’t have built Nekropolis here, but they did, and you didn’t protest.”

“We did not understand! We knew nothing of otherness then! We did not know there were Others to protest to!”

“Even so, the city and its people have been here for almost four centuries. Isn’t it time you learned to coexist with them?”

“Impossible! Otherness can not be tolerated!”

“Then there’s nothing I can do for you, Gregor. I won’t help you. In fact, I’ll do everything I can to stop you.”

“You’ll do nothing. It’s a pity you won’t join us, but that is your decision. You were foolish to come here alone, Matthew. We destroyed your body once, and we shall do so again-and this time there is no one to restore you. And don’t think your flashlight will protect you. While we are creatures of this dark dimension and light does hurt us, there are far too many of us for your feeble beam to kill.”