Dying Is My Business (40 page)

Ahead of me, in the dim light of the glowing lichen, Snaggletooth nodded. “Bad enough he is not of our kind, but his cruelty is unbridled, his tyranny unmatched. He rules through fear and intimidation. Those who fail him are publicly executed as a warning to the rest of us, to keep us meek and obedient.”

I cringed, remembering the gargoyle skulls cemented into the Black Knight’s throne. Failure and disobedience got you the best seat in the house, only in the worst way. It reminded me of some of the crime bosses I knew. Anger them, don’t follow their orders, and you got two in the back of the head. The Black Knight would have felt right at home in the Brooklyn underworld.

“Many are too young to remember the time before the usurper,” Snaggletooth continued. “Many remain loyal to him. But not all. There are others like me who would be free of him. Our numbers grow by the day. The time will soon come when we will rise up, but still we are not enough. We need … I do not know the word. We do not have our own word for it. We have need of you. That is why I have done this.”

The words were garbled but the meaning was clear enough. In return for freeing me, Snaggletooth was asking for my help.

“What is it you want me to do?”

Another chamber opened off the corridor. Snaggletooth paused by the doorway and peeked inside. The gargoyle turned back to me, put a long, clawed finger to its jaws, and waved for me to follow. Snaggletooth crept silently past the doorway. I did the same, risking a quick glance through the opening. Inside, a throng of gargoyles surrounded something wounded and bleeding on the floor. I heard the sounds of gnashing teeth and the bleating of an animal, and caught a glimpse of blood-tinged fur. Dinnertime. I hurried past.

“The usurper must not be allowed to wake Stryge from his slumber,” Snaggletooth said as we continued through the cave tunnels.

“Wait a minute. I thought you said you liked it better under Stryge’s rule, before the Black Knight came along.”

“You misunderstand. Stryge was as cruel a tyrant as the usurper. We do not wish his return. But that is not the usurper’s intention anyway. He would never allow Stryge to reclaim the throne. All the usurper craves is power. It is all he has
ever
craved. He plans to steal Stryge’s power for himself, just as he planned to steal yours.”

Damn, was there anyone who
didn’t
want a piece of Stryge? Still, what Snaggletooth said gave me pause. “He wants to steal
my
power?”

The tunnel bent around a corner. Snaggletooth motioned for me to wait before we turned. A cluster of gargoyles flew down an intersecting tunnel. Then it was safe to move again.

Snaggletooth continued, “He tasted your power when you bested him last night. After that, he grew obsessed. He yearns to take that power for himself, and he surely would have had I not freed you.”

That explained why the Black Knight had tried to drain the life out of me a second time. Alchemists were scientists, after all, and like a scientist he’d tested me to see if the same results would occur again. After that, he’d tried to figure out why, testing my blood to find the answer. The test had failed, but what if it hadn’t? What would he have done then? Distilled it out of me like salt from water? Cut it out like a tumor?

“I didn’t think it was possible to steal someone’s power,” I said.

“Oh yes, power can be stolen, provided you have the right spell and equipment—” Snaggletooth stopped suddenly and waved me back, eyes wide with sudden terror. We had come to another chamber doorway off the tunnel. I was too far back to see inside, but whatever was in there had set Snaggletooth’s nerves on edge. The old gargoyle motioned for silence, then darted past the doorway. Snaggletooth stopped me with a raised claw, then a moment later gave me the all clear. I ran past the chamber, risking a quick glance inside. My chest squeezed tight.

It was the Black Knight. He was surrounded by old wooden chests, their lids flung open, and their contents rummaged through. His back was to me as he bent over one of the chests and searched through the objects inside it. I saw him pull out a long steel blade like a bone saw, and then I was past the doorway and hurrying after Snaggletooth. The old gargoyle was running remarkably quickly, the walking stick now tucked under one arm.

The tunnel forked in three different directions. I followed Snaggletooth down one, and when we turned the corner, we stopped to catch our breath.

“You’re faster than you look,” I said. “Do you even need that walking stick?”

Snaggletooth’s face twisted hideously in what I could only assume was the gargoyle equivalent of a grin. “It is better if the usurper believes I am weak. No one would suspect rebellion from one so feeble.” The gargoyle looked up at me then, its black eyes hard and serious. “We wish only to be free. Not to be ruled, but to rule ourselves in peace, without fear, and without constant strife with the outside world. Surely that is the right of every living thing.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I had to admit, Snaggletooth had surprised me. I’d thought the gargoyles were senseless killing machines, mindless servants of the Black Knight that reveled in carnage. Everyone had said as much. Yet there was so much more to them.

Snaggletooth continued, “Long ago, the oracles spoke a prophecy, one that claimed we would be granted our freedom by an immortal storm. For a time, many of us believed this was a reference to the usurper himself, but now we know better. The usurper did not bring us freedom, and the prophecy remains unfulfilled. These old eyes of mine have seen centuries born and die, but there is a limit to even my patience. The time has come to stop waiting for freedom to be granted to us, and claim it for ourselves.”

The immortal storm again. It seemed to be on everyone’s lips today. Gregor had called it a danger to all existence. Snaggletooth thought it would bring the gargoyles their long overdue freedom. Two completely different interpretations of the same prophecy. Just another reason not to believe in prophecies, as far as I was concerned.

“I think it’s best not to put too much stock in these things,” I said.

The gargoyle nodded. “I agree. I have lost faith that the immortal storm will ever come.”

That wasn’t exactly what I’d meant, but it was close enough.

We came out of the tunnel at the foot of the natural stone bridge. Now I could see where the overpowering stench of rotting meat came from. Far below was a wide crevasse filled with bones and what looked at first like mud, though the smell told me otherwise. It was liquefying flesh, rotting off the bones with the help of the maggots and beetles that crawled through the muck. This was the gargoyles’ garbage bin, I realized, the place where they threw the bones of their prey when they were finished eating.

Snaggletooth dashed across the bridge, once again tucking the walking stick under one arm. When I joined the old gargoyle on the other side of the bridge, I said, “Look, I’d help you if I could, but I don’t know what I can do.”

“You have already shown you are immune to the usurper’s magic, and you have caused him pain in a way no one else has. You are our best chance. Our only chance.”

“Best chance to do what?” I pressed.

“To kill him,” Snaggletooth said.

I paused, surprised. A gargoyle asking me to kill its king didn’t make sense. It also didn’t seem doable. “No one’s been able to kill the Black Knight in four centuries,” I pointed out.

“They simply did not know how.”

“And you do?”

“I do, though the opportunity has never come to me. His heart is his lone vulnerable point. Destroy his heart and you destroy him.” Using the walking stick again, Snaggletooth led me down another tunnel.

“His heart?” I scoffed. “That’s his big secret? That’s the information he killed those Dutch settlers in Fort Verhulst over? It hardly seems worth it.
Everyone’s
heart is their vulnerable point.”

“You know nothing of what you speak. I was with the usurper at the human settlement called Fort Verhulst. Like the others, I killed at his command.” Snaggletooth’s voice softened then, and the old gargoyle nodded, its eyes filled with regret. “Yes, back then I obeyed without question, foolishly. Would that I had known better. Still, those humans did not die for any reason but one: They knew the usurper’s name.”

“His name? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Names have power,” Snaggletooth said. “To know someone’s name is to have an advantage over him. It can be the most dangerous information of all.”

“Then tell me his name,” I said.

Snaggletooth sighed. “Would that I could remember, but the point is moot now. Too much time has passed. No one remembers his name. Not even the usurper himself.”

It figured. Nothing was ever that easy. And yet I had the strangest feeling that the answer was dangling just out of reach, a missing puzzle piece I could almost see.

I hurried after Snaggletooth. “Even if I managed to get a shot at his heart, how would I pierce his armor? Everyone says it’s impenetrable.”

“It is not armor,” the old gargoyle corrected me. “It is a shell, a carapace containing only his essence. All that remains of the usurper’s original form within is his heart, and the feathered fragments of his soul.”

“Feathered…? Oh, the crows,” I said. “But that still doesn’t tell me how I can get to his heart.”

“The usurper carries with him the only spell that can pierce his carapace.”

“A spell? How am I supposed to get it from him?”

“That is up to you.”

We came out of the tunnel at the cave mouth. Snaggletooth went first to check if the coast was clear, then waved me forward. “We must get you to safety. The time will come soon for you to face the usurper again, and when you do, remember what I have told you.”

“Come with me,” I said. “If the Black Knight finds out you helped me, you’ll wind up part of his throne.”

“No, he will never suspect me,” Snaggletooth replied. “I am his vizier, his trust in me is absolute. As is his trust in others he ought to be more cautious of.”

Another gargoyle emerged from the shadows. I stiffened, but when Snaggletooth didn’t react I realized it was one of his allies. To my surprise, it was Yellow Eye. I remembered Yellow Eye spotting me on the street in Manhattan but backing off instead of attacking. Now I understood why. Yellow Eye had been part of Snaggletooth’s underground resistance all along.

The two gargoyles chittered at each other for a moment, and then Snaggletooth turned back to me. “You will be taken to safety, but you must go now. The usurper will notice your absence soon and come looking for you. His rage will make him even more dangerous.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t blow up any more gas stations,” I said.

“Once again you know nothing of which you speak,” Snaggletooth said. The old gargoyle spoke quickly, knowing there wasn’t much time. “The fire was not his doing. I followed the usurper this day as he searched for you, though the cover of the storm clouds could not fully shield me from the painful rays of the Dayburning Hellstar above. Yet follow him I did. Your trail led him to the building you speak of, this gas station, but it was destroyed
before
he reached it. The death of those inside is one crime the usurper is not responsible for.”

“What?” If the Black Knight hadn’t destroyed Underwood’s base, who had?

A loud gargoyle screech emanated from deep within the cavern. Snaggletooth and Yellow Eye looked back in alarm.

“We have run out of time,” Snaggletooth said. “Your absence has been discovered. Even now, the usurper will be sending guards to find you. You must go!”

Yellow Eye took to the air above me, flapping its wings hard enough to cause a strong downdraft that almost knocked me over. It grabbed me under the arms with its prehensile hind claws and lifted me off the ground. Below, Snaggletooth turned and started walking back into the tunnel.

“Wait,” I said. “You never told me your name.”

The gargoyle turned to face me. “It is Jibril-khan, fourteenth hatchling of Khan-maku. Go now, and may the Guardians show you favor this night.” Then Snaggletooth—Jibril-khan—disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel.

Gripping me tightly, Yellow Eye flew us out of the cave mouth. The gargoyle’s claws dug through the fabric of my trench coat and shirt and into my shoulders. It hurt like hell, but at least it kept me from falling into the Hudson River as we flew toward the distant shore of Manhattan. I breathed a sigh of relief as the cavern—and the Black Knight—fell farther behind.

I looked up at Yellow Eye. “I remember you from the warehouse. We fought there, didn’t we? I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Yellow Eye looked down at me with its one good eye and grunted dismissively, as if to tell me I was flattering myself.

Just then, another gargoyle came hurtling out of the cave mouth behind us. Yellow Eye saw it the same time I did and immediately took evasive maneuvers, diving and banking while I held on for dear life, but we couldn’t shake our pursuer. The second gargoyle flew high, then dove in front of us, causing Yellow Eye to pull up in order to avoid a collision.

The other gargoyle screeched, loud and angry, and I saw that it was Long Face, the same gargoyle that had helped Yellow Eye carry me from the cemetery. Now that Yellow Eye’s betrayal had been revealed, Long Face was enraged. The two gargoyles shrieked, bit, and clawed at each other like bitter enemies. Yellow Eye twisted in midair to slash at Long Face, jostling me dangerously in its rear claws. I held on as tightly as I could.

Long Face let out a high-pitched screech of pain and fell back. Yellow Eye flapped harder, propelling us toward the far shore. We didn’t get far before Long Face came at us again, though this time the gargoyle flew directly at me. I got my legs up and kicked, striking Long Face in the snout and knocking it back a few feet in midair. The kick jostled me in Yellow Eye’s grip again. I glanced nervously down at the dark water far below.

Long Face came back at us. Yellow Eye banked to one side, trying to get around Long Face, but it was no use. Long Face attacked Yellow Eye again, and the next thing I knew we were spinning out of control. Blood rained on me from above, but from which gargoyle I couldn’t tell. Given the ferocity of their attacks, probably both of them. They snarled and shrieked and clawed at each other, and all the while we fell, twisting and spinning, toward the frothing black waves below. I held on tight and scissored my legs in a futile attempt to try to stabilize us, but I had no leverage. We were out of control.