But that wouldn’t be right. He’d be making a deal with the devil, he realized, an alliance with pure evil. And if he then stabbed that devil in the back, how could he ever consider himself better than the villain he’d betrayed?
The Peregrine rose suddenly, startling the Manchu. William grabbed the tablet and drove it straight into the demon’s face, splintering one of the Manchu’s front teeth. The Peregrine then tossed the tablet aside and drew his Knife. He grabbed hold of the still-reeling Manchu and yanked him from his chair, throwing him against the wall. The edge of the Peregrine’s blade came to rest at the Manchu’s throat.
“Do you think you can come back from a decapitation?” William hissed.
The Warlike Manchu laughed heartily. “Bravo, little Peregrine. Your father would be so proud. Like him, you value your outdated notions of honor over common sense. And I do find it so interesting that a man who professes to be part of a peace movement is so readily willing to resort to violence.”
“Violence in and of itself isn’t wrong,” the Peregrine answered. “Sometimes you have no choice but to fight… but it’s wrong for your government to ignore the will of those who are giving their lives. And sometimes… you have to just simply take out the trash. My father taught me that.”
The Peregrine slashed deep with the Knife of Elohim and the Warlike Manchu’s head flew upwards, a torrent of red following in its wake. The head landed on the floor, a strange look frozen on its owner’s face. William wasn’t sure if it was horror… or amusement.
The Peregrine turned to claim the tablet and leave this vile place, but to his surprise the Mayan object was gone… and so were the Ten Fingers members who had lurked nearby.
The Peregrine cleaned the blade of his knife and shook his head. How the Ten Fingers had slipped away so quickly and quietly was unknown to him—he’d anticipated them fighting to the death to avenge their fallen master, in fact.
William idly wondered what the men would do with the tablet… but in the end, it didn’t really matter. Not today, at least. The Peregrine had over forty years to find it again.
In the meantime, William would work on changing the world without the use of mystical tablets…
CHAPTER VIII
Interlude
2012
Ian Morris watched the images of William Davies and the Warlike Manchu fade away, like dust in the wind. “I get it. You’re telling me to find this tablet and use it, right? But what’s the point? William was probably right: even if things are restarted, the next world will just end at the same point, won’t it? That’s the definition of a causal loop.”
Catalyst stood up and moved away, holding his hands out in front of him. Two cups of steaming coffee materialized in his grasp and he set one of them down in front of Ian, slowly sipping from the other. “I’m not trying to sway you one way or another, Ian. I’m just showing you things that the Weirding thinks you should know.”
“The Weirding?”
“I’m a servant to magic, just as you’re a servant to justice. All of us have roles we play. There are guiding forces in this universe: some are born under the sign of evil, others—like you and I—are destined to walk a different path.”
The Peregrine reached up and removed his mask, shaking out his hair and revealing a handsome, if somewhat morose-looking, face. “You honestly expect me to believe that you don’t know what this entire thing means? That you’re just as confused as I am?”
Catalyst continued to sip from his coffee, but the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. “I would never say that.”
The Peregrine stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. “You’re making jokes? We’re talking about the end of the world here.”
“True. But if one can’t laugh at the horrors of the world, then you go insane. I’ve seen it happen.”
“Is that what happened to William?” Ian wondered aloud, staring into his own coffee. “After this, from what I know, he slowly started a downward spiral. Defeating the Warlike Manchu should have spurred him on to greater things, but I know he started hitting the drugs more and more, until by 1970 he was barely himself anymore. When he died, the obituaries just said he’d passed unexpectedly, but back when I was working on my pulp-era heroes documentary I found persistent rumors that he killed himself.”
“That’s true. He took a bad hit and he thought he could fly. Jumped right off a New York City rooftop in February 1970. Emma donned the mask the very next week.”
“I never understand that,” Ian admitted. “William had been groomed for the role from a young age. He wanted it, and I think Max liked the idea of him carrying on for him… but Emma was a whiz at school. She was an archaeologist when she became the Peregrine, at age twenty-seven. She was engaged to be married, but she broke that off and abandoned her career, all to follow in the footsteps of her brother.”
“She loved him and she loved her father,” Catalyst answered with a shrug. “Makes perfect sense to me.”
“I just mean… by that point she’d seen her father’s heartache and she’d seen what being the Peregrine had done to her brother…”
“You’ve seen all that and you still chose to become the Peregrine,” Catalyst pointed out. “Just because you know the risks doesn’t mean you don’t want to serve when called upon. In many ways, it just makes you more resolute. You want to honor their sacrifice.”
Ian nodded, understanding perfectly. Despite knowing intimately the fates of those who had come before him, he’d readily agreed to take up the mantle. Being the Peregrine
was
a curse in some respects, but at the same time it was the greatest thing he’d ever done. “How well did you know Emma?”
“Very. In many ways, she restored a lot of luster to the Peregrine legacy. William kept the Peregrine inside the United States, but Emma restored the globe-trotting nature of the identity, harkening back to her father’s tenure.”
Ian considered that. Since becoming the Peregrine himself, he’d been based almost entirely out of the British Isles. It wasn’t that he’d avoid traveling to other parts of the world; it was just that there had been more than enough to keep him busy at home.
“There’s more for me to see, isn’t there?” Ian asked. “I still have to see what I can learn from Emma’s story.”
Catalyst sat back down and set his coffee to the side. Images again began to coalesce before them, the image of a shapely young woman beginning to appear. She appeared to be hanging from a rope, descending down into a long rock-lined pit. She was beautiful, with auburn-colored hair that was tied back into a ponytail. Her attire was a modified version of her father’s: a waist-length coat, gloves and mask, with a pleated skirt and dark boots that reached to her calves.
“This is 1973,” Catalyst whispered. “Three years after Emma became the Peregrine. She is thirty years old.”
Ian leaned in, his curiosity driving him forward.
Tick, tock
, the Armageddon clock kept ticking, every second bringing the world closer to its end. Ian fervently prayed that he wasn’t wasting time here, that somewhere in this misty recreation of the past lay the key to the future.
CHAPTER IX
Down Among the Dead
September 12, 1973—Brazil
Emma hung in the darkness, suspended by a rope that burned into her chest and arms. She could hear Kayla Kaslov, her best friend and adventuring partner, walking about up above, but she couldn’t make out any words, if there were any. Emma tilted her head back, squinting at the aperture above, but the entryway into the abyss was so small that only a small ray of light could be seen.
“Kayla! I need another torch!”
Emma’s voice echoed off the stone walls of the crevice and for a moment she wasn’t sure if Kayla had heard her or not. The Peregrine’s surroundings were so dark that it almost made Emma dizzy, and a vague sense of nausea washed over her. She was used to being tight enclosures but there was the smell of rotting meat and death here, as if this entire place was a charnel house. She’d come here in pursuit of a Mayan tablet that had crossed the paths of both Peregrines before her; after its last appearance in 1967, the relic had passed from hand to hand in the criminal network until one man finally disposed of it by tossing it into one of the so-called Devil’s Pits that lined the highest mountains of Brazil. The origins of the Pits were unknown, but they went deep into the Earth and had walls lined with small shelves. These shelves housed any number of relics dating back to the earliest known human settlements, and they were also rumored to be cursed. Many an explorer had lost his life here, plunging into the darkness below, never to return.
Somewhere down below lay Emma’s first torch, which had slipped from her grasp. She hadn’t been able to tell how far it had fallen because she had never heard it hit bottom and the flame itself had faded out long before it had landed.
“Peregrine!” Kayla shouted.
Emma looked up and saw a torch being lowered down to her by a rope. The rope twisted and turned, sending the flaming head of the torch dancing wildly. When it came close enough for Emma to reach, she snagged it with one gloved hand and brought it close.
Her estimates earlier had been right on target. The Mayan tablet rested on one of the shelves, directly in front of her. She could even make out the carvings on its surface, though they were worn with age. Emma had been forced to beat the exact location of the tablet out of the man who’d hidden it here, and his words had proven true. She’d felt somewhat bad for him—he had genuinely wanted to hide it from those who would misuse it—but in the end, Emma felt it would be better to have it protected by either herself or Kayla.
Like the Peregrine herself, Kayla was a legacy hero. The daughter of Leonid Kazlov, who had been dubbed “the Russian Superman” in World War II and had won the coveted “Man of the Year” award multiple times, Kayla was a beautiful young woman with a genius level intellect. Her snow-white blonde hair and perfect features sometimes made Emma jealous, but she loved her friend too much to be put off by the attentions she received from men.
Leonid and the Peregrine had made a potent team on occasion in the past, and the Emma/Kayla team was proving to be a suitable replacement.
Emma took out a small clamp from her coat and hammered it into the rock wall with a hammer. It was difficult work, as she had to both hold the rope and her torch with one hand while handling the tools with the other. In the end, she was able to place the torch in the clamp. The Mayan tablet had been attached to the shelf with several ropes that were embedded in the rock itself.
The Peregrine drew the Knife of Elohim, which glowed softly. With this, she was able to free the tablet and lift it up into her hands. The second the tablet left the shelf, however, a rumbling sound filled the crevice and a strong wind began to blow upwards, lifting up the folds of Emma’s skirt. The smell of death grew much stronger and Emma found the winds were strong enough to begin buffeting her about. She slammed hard into the wall and dropped the tablet as a result. A curse escaped her lips as she watched the relic disappear into the darkness below.
The winds continued to wreak havoc on the Peregrine’s lifeline and she raised her voice, hoping that Kayla could hear her. “Pull me up! We’re going to have to change our plans!”
A scraping sound from above caused Emma to look up, and her heart suddenly dropped like a stone in her chest. The aperture through which she’d entered had been a roughly carved hole into the ground, but it was seemingly sealing itself up. Kayla’s face appeared for a moment, but Emma’s friend was suddenly gone as the hole closed up completely, slicing through the rope that Emma had been clinging to.
The Peregrine fell quickly, making the mistake of trying to grab hold of one of the shelves on her way down. The impact ripped the shelf out of the wall and nearly dislocated Emma’s shoulder.
Down into the abyss she fell, trying to keep her wits about her. She forced herself to relax, knowing that this could help with the rough landing that was inevitable. To her surprise, she reached bottom earlier than she had thought she would. She landed—quite hard—amongst a pile of rocks and bones. One of the rocks was sharp enough to pierce her jacket and scrape her back, but after lying still for a moment, she was able to carefully test every limb, finger, and toe, assuring herself that nothing was broken.
The Peregrine sat up, checking through her pockets. She had a short-wave radio, but even in the darkness she could tell it was shattered beyond repair. Hopefully Kayla would find some way to reopen the aperture, though she couldn’t imagine how it had sealed itself off. One thing was clear, though—removing the Mayan tablet had set off some kind of trap. Now that she was on the bottom, she could tell where the wind had come from. It flowed freely through several cavernous openings that must have been revealed when the trap was sprung. In the dim light, Emma could barely make out that the openings led to other tunnels, possibly linking the Devil’s Pits together.
The sound of bones crunching beneath bare feet made Emma straighten up quickly. She held the Knife out in front of her, its mystic light illuminating several inches but not much more. “Is someone there?”
“Why do you come to my Bower?” an old woman asked, her voice sounding vile and cold. With every word, the stench from her breath assaulted Emma’s nostrils and the scent of rotting flesh intensified.
“I came looking for a tablet,” the Peregrine answered, moving towards the voice. Her magical blade continued to light the way and she stopped when it revealed the outline of a figure a few feet away. The woman couldn’t be seen fully, but she was cadaverous and mostly nude, with only the skins of a number of animals tied about her waist. Her hair was unkempt and white, but it was the brief glimpses of the woman’s teeth that froze Emma’s blood: they were razor sharp and blackened, with yellow stained on their surface. “You live here?”
“I do. I do, indeed,” the woman cackled. “It’s not often I get such a tasty morsel as yourself.”
Wonderful,
Emma mused.
I find my way into a cannibal’s den. I must be the only one in the world with this kind of bad luck.
“Let me find the tablet and I’ll leave you be,” she warned. “But if you bother me, I’ll cut you into very tiny pieces.”