Simon Green - A Hard Day's Knight

“Don’t,” I said. “I mean it, Alex. He is way out of your league. Maybe even out of mine. Dead Merlin was dangerous enough; this version is seriously scary. I’m going to have to do a lot of hard thinking and planning, before I’m ready to go after him.”

“But you will go after him?” said Alex.

“Yes,” I said. “He threatened me, and my friends, and no-one gets away with that.”

“He said he was the anti-Christ,” said Suzie.

“Our Merlin rejected his father’s plans for him,” I said. “He could have been the anti-Christ, but he declined the honour. If only because he wouldn’t take orders from anyone. Of course, that was before he met Arthur, and everything changed. The Merlin we just met ... is every inch his father’s son.”

“I’m going to have to get a bigger gun,” said Suzie. “Something heavier, and more ... spiritual.”

“Got to be more useful than an angel’s feather,” Alex said pointedly.

“We’re still here, aren’t we?” I said. “Now, we have work to do, and not a lot of time to do it in. It won’t take Merlin long to find someone who can take him straight to the missing Artur. There’s always someone, in the Nightside. Hell, there are probably already people lining up to sell their souls to him. After speaking to the London Knights, I’m pretty sure Artur came here looking for this world’s Excalibur. His Merlin doesn’t want him to have it because the sword could give Artur power over him. The Lady of the Lake from Sinister Albion wouldn’t give Artur her sword because he wasn’t worthy. So all that’s left to him is to steal some other world’s Excalibur. Which makes him Stark’s best buyer.”

“Who’s this Stark?” said Suzie.

“Rogue London Knight. Currently allied with Queen Mab’s elves. The man who stole Excalibur from me.”

“I hate him already,” said Suzie. “Let me kill him for you.”

“A nice thought, but not until we’ve got the sword back from him,” I said.

“You really think you can find Stark before Merlin does?” said Alex.

“Of course,” I said. “I have a gift; and I know the Nightside better than he ever will.”

“Yes, but ... he’s Merlin !” said Alex. “Alive and in his prime, after fifteen hundred years of practicing his craft! With all the powers of the anti-Christ! He could probably pull the Moon down out of the sky and crash it into the Nightside for laughs! And I’m not sure there’s anyone in the Nightside who could stop him!”

“Do I need to get you a paper bag to breathe into?” I said. “Of course there are people here who could stop him! Off the top of my head, there’s the Lord of Thorns. And Hadleigh Oblivion, the Detective Inspectre. And Jessica Sorrow, the Unbeliever.”

“You really do know some scary people,” said Alex. He made an effort to calm himself. “And there’s the whole Street of the Gods, of course. Sorry. It’s hard to think of anyone else, when that oversized piece of shit is floating right in front of you, larger than life and twice as nasty. Okay, maybe ... there are people here who could slow him down, but I’d still want to be several dimensions away when they tried it.”

“Speed is our best friend here,” I said, trying hard to sound confident and in control. “Get to Stark first and take Excalibur back from him; then Merlin can have his bloody Artur for all I care. Let him take his King home, and we’re rid of two people we’re better off without.”

“What’s to stop Merlin from destroying the whole Nightside before he goes home?” said Suzie.

“I will,” I said. “Once I’ve got Excalibur back.”

“You think you can stop him?” said Alex. “With a magic sword and a feather?”

“Excalibur is a lot more than a sword,” I said patiently. “That’s why Artur wants it. And knowing I’ve got the sword will be enough to stop Merlin coming back again. Now, stand back and prepare to be amazed; it’s finding-things time.”

I concentrated on my gift and sent my mind soaring up and out, shooting up through the bar and rising high into the dark skies above. My mind rose free, no longer held back by the limitations of flesh, and I could See all across the Nightside. The huge Moon glared more brightly than ever though it had no sun to reflect light from. There is no man-in-the-moon face on the Nightside’s Moon; it’s a huge dead silver eye that sees everything and cares for nothing. The stars danced all round me. If I listened really hard, I could hear them singing. I looked down across the brightly lit streets and squares, the flares and smears of gaudy colour as the Nightside spun slowly beneath me. Hot neon blazed, and magics dazzled, but I couldn’t See the sword Excalibur anywhere. Its nature made it invisible to everyone except the man who bore it, rightly or not. And for the moment, that man was Stark. So I looked for him instead.

My gift found him easily, a beacon blazing in the night. My all-Seeing mental eye plummeted down into the Nightside and shot along the streets like an invisible comet, rocketing in and out of streets and side alleys until finally it settled outside one very familiar building. I drifted slowly forward, cautious of protective spells that might set off an alarm, but my gift was more subtle than anything this place had. Soon I was inside, in one particular room; and my Vision showed me two men talking together. Back in the bar, I reached out to Suzie, so she could take my hand and share what I was Seeing. I felt her fingers in mine, and together we watched, and listened.

I knew this place. I’d been in this building before. They called it the Fortress, the one place you could go in the Nightside where no-one would bother you. A place of sanctuary and protection. Originally established by a self-help group of alien abductees, who decided to get together and set up a safe place, with constant electronic surveillance and a whole lot of guns. And a complete willingness to shoot the shit out of anyone or anything that tried to take them anywhere against their will. Let the aliens come again and see what was waiting for them. Over the years, the Fortress had become a refuge for anyone who needed it. Good place for Artur to run to and hide. And a good place for Stark to do business ...

The rogue knight stood tall and proud in a pokey little room, facing a man who had to be Artur. The room had only the most basic furnishings and few comforts; the Fortress runs on a very strict budget. They prefer to spend what money they have in constantly upgrading the surveillance systems and buying bigger guns. It isn’t paranoia if they really are out to get you and shove probes up your behind.

Not really the proper setting for a King in exile, as Artur’s expression seemed to confirm. He was tall and elegant, with a pale, aristocratic face that would have been more than usually handsome, if it hadn’t been for the cold, dark eyes and thin-lipped mouth. He held himself like a King, like a man used to giving orders and having them obeyed; but he also looked dangerous in his own right. Like a man who could do his own killing, as and when he felt it necessary. He was wearing a suit of some dark armour; but I couldn’t See it clearly. Must have its own built-in protections.

Stark looked suspiciously at the surveillance camera set ostentatiously into the room’s ceiling. “Any way of turning that thing off?”

“Apparently not,” said Artur. His voice was smooth and cultured, with an undertone of viciousness. “It’s for my own protection, after all. There’s always someone watching. Anyone tries to attack me, the whole Fortress will turn out to defend me. That is why I came here, after all.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Stark. He sounded surprisingly tired for someone so close to getting everything he wanted. “They won’t recognise me and probably wouldn’t care much if they did. I’ve committed no sins in the Nightside.”