The Dark at the End Page 7

  Weezy had been finding references to q'qrs in the Compendium and Glaeken had filled in the gaps: Q'qrs were created by the Otherness back in the First Age - genetically retrofitted from humans - as savage soldiers in its war against the Ally. Dark, hairy bipeds with two arms and two tentaclelike appendages sprouting from their armpits.

  "But why New Jersey, of all places?"

  "I believe the cage - or pyramid, as you've called it - was erected in the late Archaic period. The Order had preserved a good deal of knowledge after the cataclysm that ended the First Age, but never shared it. The 'New World' was not the least bit new to them. They penned the last q'qr near their first Lodge in North America. "

  "The one in Johnson?" Jack said, his expression baffled. "Why?"

  "The Pine Barrens, in what would eventually become New Jersey, were convenient to the coast via rivers and streams, and even more isolated then. The woods presented a good buffer against the natives. "

  "But why not someplace warmer - like the Carolinas?"

  "The location of the Johnson lodge isn't random. It lies on a convergence near a particularly powerful nexus point. A settlement sprang up around it long before Columbus or even the Vikings found this continent, and eventually became the Old Town section of Johnson. You probably can't pronounce its First Age name, but because of the presence of the last q'qr, it was referred to as Q'qret - which translates as Q'qr Home. As English became the dominant local language - "

  Weezy saw where he was going. "Q'qret was bastardized into Quakerton. "

  Glaeken nodded. "Which remained the town's name until President Andrew Johnson decided to spend the night there. Members of the Order had largely moved on by then, leaving only the Lodge as a permanent holding. I knew the cage was empty and assumed the last q'qr was dead, but I bought the land around it to prevent development. Who knew what trouble people might unearth if they started digging?"

  Weezy remembered what she and Jack had uncovered when they'd dug on his land - Glaeken had been known to the locals back then as Old Man Foster - and it had led to a ton of trouble.

  She looked at the Lady. "But you're saying that old stone cage would be a safe place for you?"

  "Wait," Jack said, holding up a hand. "We're just going to forget about this Other Name thing?"

  Glaeken said, "I think it's a dead end, Jack. "

  Jack shook his head. "I'm not so sure. There's an opportunity there. I don't know what, exactly, but something's there. "

  "Not if I do not perform the ceremony," the Lady said.

  Jack leaned back, looking frustrated. Weezy had a feeling he wasn't going to let this go.

  The Lady turned to Weezy. "To answer your question: Yes, I think that ancient cage might offer a hiding place. "

  Jack frowned. "How? It's got open sides. I think you'd be more exposed. "

  "But it was built in a way that honors the Otherness. If I stay within its confines, its walls might deflect the One's awareness of me. "

  Glaeken said, "It's obvious he has no way to harm you - at least at the moment - otherwise he would have used it yesterday. But we can be just as sure that he is leaving no stone unturned looking for a means to extinguish you. So I see no downside to trying the cage. "

  "Well, who knows?" Jack said. "If you drop off his radar, he may waste time and resources locating you instead of hunting up ways to off you. " He looked at Weezy. "Somebody's going to have to drive her. "

  Right. The Fhinntmanchca encounter had robbed her of the ability to zap herself around, appearing anywhere on Earth whenever she pleased. Until she regained her full strength, she had to travel like anyone else.

  Weezy raised her eyebrows. "Road trip?"

  He sighed. "I guess so. "

  He couldn't have sounded less enthused.

  "Today?"

  He shook his head. "Something I need to do. Tomorrow is better. "

  "Then we head home tomorrow. "

  Home . . . so many memories back there, good, bad, and awful.

  THURSDAY Chapter 4

  Dawn stared through her windshield at the McCready Foundation building from her quasi-legal parking space. Senator James McCready had died last year but his foundation lived on. Part of the building was rented office space - mostly to the private practices of the physicians associated with the foundation - but the rest was devoted to research.

  And that totally bothered Dawn. Dr. Heinze was a pediatric surgeon - it still bothered her that Mr. Osala had called in a surgeon - associated with a medical research facility. Were they doing research on her baby? Were his birth defects so unusual that he had to be hidden away and studied?

  She didn't care about his defects, she wanted him back.

  But where was he?

  She hadn't named him, and he certainly wouldn't be listed anywhere with her last name. Baby Boy Pickering. Totally unlikely. But he had to be somewhere.

  Banned from the building, she'd had to set up watch out here. Not an easy thing in midtown Manhattan.

  She stepped out of the car - a used Volvo V70 wagon - and stretched her legs. Jack had helped her buy it. She glanced through the side window into the rear where the infant seat was securely strapped in. She'd wanted a Volvo because she'd heard they were safe, and if she was going to be driving her baby around, she wanted a safe car.

  She'd parked where she could see not only the front entrance to the office section of the building but the ramps in and out of the attached garage as well.

  She was suddenly on alert as a silver Lexus pulled out of the garage. Dr. Heinze drove a silver Lexus -

  And yes, that was him behind the wheel.

  She jumped in and started the car. She'd never before been able to follow him after he left his office. Now she'd know exactly what he was up to. And, eventually, where he lived.

  THURSDAY Chapter 5

  After arranging a time to meet here at the Lady's and drive her into the wilds of the Jersey Pine Barrens, Weezy left to meet Eddie, and Jack stayed behind.

  As Glaeken rose and started for the door, Jack said, "I want to show you something. "

  He pulled off the long-sleeved T he was wearing and angled his wounded left arm toward him.

  "Remember that from yesterday?"

  The butterflies were gone and the wound had further healed. No dressing necessary.

  Glaeken peered at the arm, then looked at Jack with concern in his eyes.

  "You're healing . . . quickly. "

  "Too quickly. What gives?"

  "It's obvious, isn't it?"

  "It's obvious in a direction I don't want it to be moving, so tell me something else. Please. "

  "I wish I could, but the answer is clear: As I begin to fail, you are progressing. "

  "Toward what?"

  Jack knew the answer but needed to hear Glaeken say it.

  "Toward what I used to be. You are the Heir, after all. And as you well know, upon my death, you assume my old place as Defender. "

  Jack did know.

  "Swell. "

  Glaeken looked at the wound again and heaved a sigh. "I can only assume this means I haven't much time left. "

  That saddened Jack. Yeah, he wanted Glaeken to live forever for his own selfish reasons - so he wouldn't have to take on the Defender mantle. But he had others. He'd grown attached to the old guy. Glaeken had a quiet nobility that appealed to him. He was a walking trove of arcane knowledge. With his passing, humanity would lose someone unique and infinitely valuable.

  "How much do you think? I mean, this is all new to me. "

  Glaeken smiled. "It's new to me as well. I've never died before, so I have no idea. " The smile faded. "But I'd hoped to outlive Magda. Without me. . . " He looked at Jack. "May I ask you a favor?"

  Jack sensed what was coming. "Look after her? Sure. Gia and I will see she's well taken care of. And you know Weezy will pitch in. "

  "Thank you. That's a comfort. I want her
to stay right where she is. Any change in her surroundings worsens her confusion. If she was moved to another apartment, it would upset her terribly. I don't want her upset. "

  Jack slipped back into his T-shirt. "Don't worry. I'll see to it. "

  "Good. I knew I could count on you. " He turned toward the door, then swung back. "Oh, and don't worry about paying for her care. I - "

  "I've got plenty of money stashed away. "

  "You won't need it. I've left everything to you. "

  "What do you mean, 'everything'?"

  "All that I own. You are the Heir, after all, so you will be my heir as well - my sole heir. "

  "You don't have any kids?"

  "Hundreds. But they're all gone. And Magda and I never had any, so you're it. You'll own this building and all my other holdings, including the Foster tract in the Barrens. "

  Jack shook his head. Me . . . owning a building on CPW -

  "Wait. I can't inherit anything. I don't exist. No Social Security number, no property, never paid taxes. "

  He'd run into this problem when Gia was pregnant. Without an official existence, he couldn't be a child's legal parent.

  Glaeken smiled again. "I'm aware of that. And I've been aware of you for a long time. I knew this day would come, so, maybe a dozen years ago I had someone create an alter ego for you. You, as you are now, have a corporeal life but no legal existence. This other entity has a legal existence but no life. He draws a salary from me and pays all proper taxes on it. He has your face and your fingerprints. He is named in my will and you will assume that identity whenever you need to access the assets I will leave to you. "

  "But I don't need - "

  "A few billion dollars? Of course you don't. No one does. But it's got to go somewhere. "

  Jack swallowed. "Billions?"

  Glaeken shrugged. "Give or take. I'm not sure of the exact figure. I've had a long time to accrue treasures and property, and they all tend to increase in value over time. "

  Billions . . . the responsibility was daunting. But then . . .

  "This is all working under the assumption that there'll be anything to inherit. People who've had a peek at the future say it all goes dark sometime in the spring. That's not far off. "

  Glaeken nodded gravely. "Yes. If Rasalom gets his way, if he succeeds in bringing about the Change, this conversation becomes moot. Ironic in a way. He's wanted me dead for all these millennia. But now that he has the upper hand, now that he's so close to succeeding, he wants me to live - so he can rub my nose in the Change before he destroys me. And in a way, I will deserve that. "

  That startled Jack. "Deserve? How?"

  "Because I could have ended the One back in the fifteenth century when I trapped him in the Keep. But I didn't. I thought our existences were linked, and if I destroyed him, the Ally would have no further use for me, and would destroy me in turn. So I locked him away for what I thought was forever. Well, not forever, just until I tired of the world. I wanted the decision to make my exit to be my own, and to choose the time of that exit. When I was ready I would return to the Keep and end him. But the German Army ruined that plan. "

  "You couldn't have known. "

  He shook his head. "Pure selfishness on my part. I'd lived for thousands of years. I could have risked it. So now, if we lose, I deserve whatever happens to me. "

  Jack found the thought intolerable.

  "Not if I find him first. "

  "But should I die before anything happens, promise me you'll use some of the inheritance to keep Magda comfortable. "

  "Of course. Absolutely. Anything and everything she needs. "

  He clapped Jack on the shoulder. "Good. Good. "

  Glaeken headed for the hall and the elevator, leaving Jack alone with the Lady.

  "I have sensed you undergoing a change for a while," she said.

  She hadn't moved from her place at the table. Her gaze was serene, her voice low.

  "Really? Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I know you do not want it. The realization has caused you only pain. What purpose would telling you serve?"

  Good point. He was glad he hadn't known. He cocked his head toward the door where Glaeken had exited.

  "And him? Any idea how long he's got?"

  "Not long. His heart is failing - not his will to live on and fight. Those will never fail in that one. But the pump itself is old and it is tired. He will not see midsummer's eve. "

  "When's that?"

  "In the latter half of June. "

  Shaken, Jack pulled out a chair and dropped into it. One thing to say he hasn't got much time left, but to hear it narrowed down like that. Early March now . . . that meant . . .

  "Glaeken's got less than four months to live?"

  The Lady nodded. "I cannot say the exact day, but the way his light is fading, it cannot last too long. "

  Jack felt his throat constrict. He'd bumped into Glaeken - as Mr. Foster - once as a kid, but had come to know him only last May, not even a year ago. Yet he felt as if he'd known him all his life.

  "I'm going to miss him. "

  "You're going to miss him!" the Lady said. "He's been my friend since the First Age. We've been the only constants in each other's lives over these many millennia. " She pointed at Jack. "It rests in your hands to see that his few remaining days are not reduced to even fewer by the One. "

  Right. Eliminate Rasalom first.

  "Any sense of where he might be?"

  She shook her head. "I sense him most often to the east, but he seems ever on the move. "

  "To the east . . . Monroe?"

  "Where he was conceived . . . perhaps. Perhaps farther. Perhaps Europe. "

  This was no help.

  "Well, tonight I'm going to meet with someone who might know the One's whereabouts. "

  "Someone who knows is not likely to tell you. "

  "Oh, if he knows, he'll tell me. "

  THURSDAY Chapter 6

  "Are you really going to eat that?" Weezy said, eyeing Eddie's thick pastrami on rye. "All of it?"

  He smiled. "Every freakin' bite. "

  Weezy shook her head. If the meat wasn't stacked a full two inches, it was close. She looked around at the Lower East Side kosher deli Eddie had chosen - Moishe's on Second Avenue.

  "How'd you find this place?" she said as he took a great-white bite. He had a sublet in the West Village, on the opposite side of the island.

  He chewed, swallowed, and sipped his Pepsi One.

  "I wander the city most of the day. I mean, nothing else to do. I wandered in here for breakfast once and liked it. "

  "Youse folks okay here?" said a high-pitched, cigarette-scorched voice with an aggressive Brooklyn accent.

  Weezy studied their waitress. She looked seventy and was built like Olive Oyl, but with a widow's hump and hair the color of a caution light. She seemed to have a pot of coffee grafted to her hand. Her name tag read Sally and her eye makeup was a wonder - a rainbow of blue hues applied like spackle.

  "We're doing great," Weezy told her.

  "You ain't touched your lox. Eat up. You never know when you're gonna get to eat again. "

  As Sally wandered away in search of needy coffee cups, Weezy forked a piece of the salmon into her mouth. She wasn't particularly hungry. Not after seeing the Lady pierce herself with that sword.

  She nodded at Eddie who'd just taken another huge bite. "I don't think you'll have to eat again for a week. "

  She noticed he'd gained some weight since she'd last seen him, though nothing like the Pugsley pudginess of his teen years. He was either letting his sandy hair grow longer or hadn't bothered to get it cut.

  "Still working out?"

  He shrugged. "What's the point?"

  "Same point as before, I guess. "

  "For what?" he said with some heat. "I played by all the rules, Weez. I slimmed down, I got in shape, I worked hard, gave good value to
my clients. And where did it get me? I had to abandon my business, I'm afraid to go back to my house, I'm subletting a roach-infested apartment. What went wrong?"

  He'd never been the type to feel sorry for himself. Maybe he was simply bored and frustrated. Either way, she would let him answer his own question.

  "I think you know what went wrong. "

  He sighed. "Yeah. I joined the Order. "

  Bull's-eye.

  They'd discussed this before but she'd never gotten a satisfactory answer.

  "Why, Eddie?"

  He shrugged. "At the time it was, 'Why not?'" He raised a hand as she opened her mouth to reply. "I know, I know. You always categorized it as one of the sinister forces in the world, one of the powers guiding the Secret History. But do you know how that sounds to the average person?"

  "Yeah. Crazy. Plus I did have my emotional problems, and I was diagnosed as manic-depressive, so I don't blame you one bit for dismissing what I said. "

  "It went beyond dismissing, you know. I got to the point where if you said something was black, I'd assume it was white. "

  She felt her throat tighten and her eyes fill. She blinked back tears.

  Eddie reached across and covered her hand. "I'm sorry, Weez. I didn't mean - "

  "No-no. It's okay. It wasn't just you. Mom and Dad were the same, and the kids in school. Every time I opened my mouth, eyes would roll. Finally I simply shut up. And now. . . "

  "Now you know you were right all along. "

  "And wish I weren't. I wish this were all the product of a mind careening out of control due to a screwed-up soup of neurotransmitters. " She squeezed his hand. "But Eddie, it's worse and more fantastic than I ever suspected. "

  He frowned. "More fantastic? How - ?"

  "Trust me?" She squeezed his hand harder. "I'm saying it's black. "

  He hesitated a heartbeat, then nodded. "Then black it is. How black?"

  Weezy closed her eyes and swallowed a sob of joy. Breakthrough. Her brother believed her . . . finally believed her.

  "Black-hole black. "

  He shook his head. "That book of yours - "

  "The Compendium of Srem. "

  "Yeah, that. There's nothing else in the world like it. That was a clue. And then the Order turning against me. "

  "They were never for you. "

  "Pretty obvious now, but they come on so benign, with such a seductive line. All the movers and shakers belong, and you can belong too - if you qualify. "