“I’m afraid not. Father Moretti may. I have to call him. I’ll ask.”
“Father Moretti is your friend in the Jesuits?”
“No. No, I’m telling this all out of order. I . . . thank you.” Rule had ignored the priest’s refusal and set a glass of wine at his elbow. He sat beside Lily as Father Michaels continued. “I have to ask you to promise you won’t reveal what I’m about to tell you.”
Lily exchanged a glance with Rule. She let him say it. “We can’t promise that.”
“This is information the Church has kept secret for centuries. I must have your word.”
Rule shook his head. “My people take vows seriously. If I promised that, I wouldn’t be able to speak of it even if it were necessary to save lives. I . . .” His brows drew together. He blinked, then nodded. “What if we promised not to speak of it—except to those who already know, of course—unless we are in truly urgent and dire circumstances?”
The priest looked troubled, but after a moment he nodded slowly. “Yes, I think I can accept that. Very well. About all I knew of dopplegängers when Cynna called me was that they probably fell within the responsibility of a certain group of Jesuits. I called a friend of mine in that order. Alejandro intended to do some research, then call me back. Instead I heard from Father Moretti. Ah . . . he’s a senior advisor to the Superior General of the Order. Extremely senior. Alejandro’s inquiries sent up a red flag, it seems.”
Absently he sipped his wine—paused, and seemed to notice the glass he held. “This is quite good.”
“Thank you,” Rule said.
“As I was saying, Father Moretti is in charge of a particular group of Jesuits. You might call them watchdogs. Some of what they watch for is unlikely to ever occur, but inquiries such as Alejandro’s draw their attention.”
“So dopplegängers have been created before?” Lily said. “Copies of humans, that is, not bumblebees.”
“Cullen mentioned the bumblebee.” Father Michaels glanced at Cullen, a small smile briefly lightening his expression. “The Church has encouraged the idea that dopplegängers are a pipe dream, but yes, they are possible. Until shortly before the Purge, they were not considered a grave threat to anything but the souls of their makers. They lacked sufficient duration to be a real problem. But in the seventeenth century, someone discovered how to make a new type of dopplegänger that lasted much longer. Some accounts claim . . . but I’m getting ahead of myself. This new type of dopplegänger was created using death magic, just as you believe yours are. The Church called them
nex in vita
.”
“Death-in-life,” Rule murmured.
Father Michael’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Yes, exactly. They were different from previous dopplegängers in significant ways. For one thing, they were unsouled.”
Lily frowned. “Like demons?”
Cullen snorted. “They’re constructs, Father. Of course they lack souls. So does my computer.”
The priest shook his head. “Involving death magic in their creation changes things. I don’t know enough about it to explain. I can only repeat what Father Moretti told me. These dopplegängers lacked souls, but unlike your computer, they were capable of volition. If their
presul
was killed—ah, that means the director or controller of the dopplegänger. If the person directing the dopplegänger was killed, the creature didn’t disperse, as happened with the older dopplegängers. Instead it went on a killing spree. There are accounts of
nex in vita
lasting up to a week—and one account of one lasting an entire month, dispersing only when it had killed everyone and everything in the village.”
“A
month
?” Cullen was incredulous.
“I don’t know if the story is accurate,” Father Michaels said apologetically, “and I’m afraid the medieval Church took steps to alter the historical record, so you’ll be unable to verify it on your own. But Father Moretti takes that account very seriously.”
“I’m not buying it.” Cullen looked more grim than dismissive, however. “It would take massive amounts of death magic to fuel a dopplegänger for a month. Even if a practitioner was able to channel that much power—and that’s a big if—we’re talking at least a hundred people killed in a short time in a controlled ritual. I don’t see how anyone could do that—or how the Church could keep it quiet if someone did.”
“But it wasn’t done in ritual. Not once the dopplegänger had been created, that is. Father Moretti believes that the
nex in vita
can feed upon death directly, without ritual, to avoid dissolution. If a dopplegänger’s creator doesn’t dispel it—or if he is killed and no one controls it—then as long as it can keep killing, it won’t cease.”
“Until someone kills it,” Rule said.
Father Michaels shook his head. “They exist in a sort of half-life. Death-in-life, as it were. Because they aren’t fully alive, they can’t be killed.”
Lily’s eyebrows shot up. “At all?”
“Perhaps with modern weapons . . . but according to the historical record, they cease when they run out of power, but they can’t be killed.”
After a moment Rule said, “Are you sure of this, Father?”
“Father Moretti is, and I believe him.”
“Then how do we stop a dopplegänger? The Church must have found a way to do so.”
“I don’t know.” Lines grooved his face as if he’d aged a decade since he arrived. “The method the Church used back then isn’t one we’d want to repeat. I don’t want to see a second Purge.”
THIRTY-FOUR
LILY
rubbed her face and thought wistfully about coffee. “For a while there, I thought you were going to tie him up.”
It was after ten. She, Rule, and Cullen were seated around the table once more. Father Michaels had just headed upstairs to the bedroom Cullen wasn’t using. Rule had been utterly insistent that the priest was in danger and should stay with them. At first Father Michaels had refused, but he had agreed to call Father Moretti from their house. That way they could answer questions—some of them, at least—and between Rule’s presence and Cullen’s debugging spell, they could be sure no one listened in on the call.
Father Moretti had spoken with Cullen and Rule, but hadn’t asked to talk to Lily.
Quel surprise
—there was sexism in the biggest, oldest boys’ club in the world. He’d then spoken privately with Father Michaels for nearly an hour.
The upshot of all that talking was that Father Michaels would stay with them, after all—and the Jesuits were sending specially trained priests to D.C. Lily hoped they were trained in something other than killing all the Gifted they could find. The first Purge hadn’t worked out well.
Not that Cullen had any doubts how to handle it. Mage fire, he’d pointed out, had destroyed an ancient staff created by an Old One. It could burn up some dead elf’s trinket, too.
Cullen had been known to be overconfident, but Lily was betting with him this time. At least on that score. On another subject, he was becoming a real pain.
“I’m not buying it,” Cullen said for the fifth time. “The Purge did not take place because some renegade German spellcasters managed to cobble together an evil, death-eating dopplegänger that the Church didn’t know how to deal with. I don’t care how good the Church was at hushing things up back then. There would have been rumors, speculation—something about it would have reached the magical community.”
“History is written by the winners,” Rule said. “The magical community lost that round in a big way. And Father Michaels didn’t claim that the Purge was caused only by the advent of these
nex in vita.
They might have been the deciding factor for the Pope, but God knows secular authorities were behind it, too.”
The priest believes what he said
, a crisp mental voice announced.
Lily jolted. “Mika? You’ve been listening?”
Did you think my only function was to act as your personal e-mail service?
Rule raised his eyebrows at Lily. “I thought you knew. Mika chimed in with a suggestion about the wording when Father Michaels asked us for that promise.”
She grimaced. “He must have just spoken to you.”
Sam says that Arcan in Rome says that some priests there believe as this one does. Mostly the ones in the red robes.
“The cardinals?” The ones high enough up in the hierarchy that they were privy to most of the secrets.
In English they are so called. Were they named after the birds, or were the birds named for them?
“The birds were named for the red-robed priests,” Cullen said, still peevish. “People thought one gaudy creature resembled the other.”
English is a flexible language. Often confusing, but flexibility can be an advantage. Cullen Seabourne would do well to remember this.
Rule gave Cullen an amused glance. “That’s telling you.”
“Never mind about the Purge,” Lily said. “If the rest of what Father Michaels told us is true, our enemies have the ability to make dopplegängers that can last a hell of a lot longer than the two we know about did. Dopplegängers that want to kill so they can eat death magic and stay . . . I guess
alive
isn’t the right word. So they can continue. And they can’t be killed.”
A puff of feeling arrived, almost like a contemptuous mental snort.
The priest is not right about everything. In the past it has taken an Old One to create any form of the undying. I do not believe abysmally ignorant spellcasters of a backwater realm succeeded in doing so.
“That’s telling all of us,” Lily said dryly. “I’m not about to get a big head now. But these dopplegängers may be hard to kill.”
Possibly. If so, Sam suggests you obtain possession of the focus.
“You’ve told all this to Sam and the other dragons?”
Of course. We have informed most of the Shadow Unit, also.
“By focus,” Cullen said, “are you talking about the artifact used to make the dopplegängers?”
Yes. You will need to destroy it. Ah. Sam has reminded me of something.
“Is Sam listening to us now?” Rule asked.
Sam is monitoring several situations. Be quiet while I speak with Lily Yu. Lily Yu, you will be unable to absorb power from the dopplegängers or the amulet. Sam believes it is best you are aware of this so you can plan your tactics properly.
“I wouldn’t want to try. It’s death magic, isn’t it? Ugh.”
Your understanding is as dangerously inadequate as Sam suspected. Absorbing death magic would turn you into a creature we would have to hunt down and kill. Sam believes that under sufficient stress—to save Rule Turner, perhaps, or the lives of young children—you would violate this ban. To ensure you do not, during our recent session I created a barrier.
“You did
what
?”
Do not be alarmed. I am young for such advanced and delicate work, but I did an excellent job. I am unusually skilled at perceiving and manipulating the . . . bah. Your language lacks a word for this. I refer to the interface between power and physicality. I cannot manipulate your Gift directly without destroying you, but I was able to place a barrier in this interface. You are still able to use your Gift in the way normal for you, but you will not be able to pull power from others.
Lily was on her feet. “This was Sam’s idea?” she demanded. “Sam wanted you to do this? Without asking me—you deceived me, tricked me—”
It is unlikely you would give permission without a great many explanations we were and remain unable to offer. I tell you now so you can plan accordingly. Oh, and I will need to remove it later, or your Gift will burn itself out attempting to override the barrier. Now I must go. I have a great deal of distance to cover by dawn.
“What? What do you mean, you’re going?”
Neither I nor any of the dragons in North America will be available to pass on messages for two or three days.
“Mika!” Rule was on his feet, too. And furious. “You’re leaving at a critical time, and without notice or explanation! Is this the way allies support each other?”