But despite my attempt to intimidate her, Shamika didn't seem scared in the slightest. Instead, she seemed sad. "I'm not his niece," she confirmed. "I've never even met him."
"Then who are you?" I demanded.
She paused, and then almost apologetically, she said, "I'm Gregor's sister."
I looked at her for a long moment, and even though I didn't need to blink, I blinked in surprise.
"Uh… what?"
FOURTEEN
"Who's Gregor?" Bogdan asked.
I ignored him and continued focusing on Shamika.
"Gregor can't have a sister. The Watchers are a group mind that share a single consciousness."
"Gregor is only one manifestation of that consciousness," Shamika said. "I'm another.
"But you don't look anything like Gregor." I kept my gaze – and my 9mm – on Shamika, but I spoke to Bogdan and Varney now. "Gregor was – is – some kind of insect thing. A giant roach with obsidian gems for eyes. And his component parts are miniature versions of him. He posed as an information broker located in the Boneyard. His insects traveled throughout Nekropolis, watching from the shadows, gathering information, eventually returning to Gregor to report what they'd learned. But Gregor had his own reasons for gathering as much knowledge as he could, and they had nothing to do with turning a profit. When Dis and the Darklords first traveled to this dimension to build Nekropolis, they discovered something was already living here. Millions, hell, maybe trillions of small insect-like creatures. The native life form didn't appear to be intelligent and showed no reaction to the Darklords' arrival. So the Darklords thought no more about them and began the work of creating their great city.
"Turns out the life forms were sentient, but their group intelligence was so different from that of any Earth creature, the Darkfolk included, that it didn't even recognize the newcomers as life forms, for it had no concept of Otherness. But as the centuries passed, the intelligence's insect components infiltrated the city and secretly watched the citizens of Nekropolis, eventually coming to understand Otherness – and to hate it.
"The Watchers' group mind created Gregor as a mask for itself, a way to interact with Darkfolk and study them more directly. It gathered all the knowledge it could, with the ultimate goal of finding a way to destroy the Others who'd invaded its home dimension. Once the Darkfolk were no more, things would return to the way they were, the way they were supposed to be, and the Watchers would be alone once more."
I paused and looked hard at Shamika. "How am I doing so far?"
"I'd argue some of the details, but your tale is essentially accurate."
"Good," I said, a sarcastic tone in my voice. "I wouldn't want to misrepresent you." I went on with my story. "Last Descension Day, Gregor stole a magical artifact called the Dawnstone from Lord Galm. The Dawnstone was the only object in Nekropolis capable of emitting actual sunlight, and Gregor planned to use it to disrupt the Renewal Ceremony. Umbriel does more than provide the shadowy half-light that illuminates the city. The Shadowsun's power keeps Phlegethon burning and maintains the city in this dimension. Gregor planned to use the Dawnstone to kill Father Dis, and without his power, the five Darklords wouldn't be able to recharge Umbriel on their own. The Shadowsun would fade away, Phlegethon would go out, and the deadly energies of this dimension would pour into the city, destroying everyone in it. And Gregor would've succeeded if Devona and I hadn't stopped him.
Afterward, Dis paid Gregor a visit and used his vast power to erase him from existence, along with every other Watcher in the city. Or so I thought."
"All true," Shamika said. A slight smile then moved across her lips. "But it's not the whole story."
I kept my gun trained on her. "Then why don't you tell us the rest of it?"
Before Shamika could go on, Bogdan interrupted. "Do we really need to keep standing here in the hallway like this, with you waving your gun around like some kind of zombie cowboy, ready to shoot first and ask questions later?"
"I am not waving it around," I said. "I'm holding it rock-steady. And in point of fact, I'm asking questions now, and I have yet to fire a single bullet." Still, I understood what the warlock was trying to get at. Shamika hadn't made a threatening move toward any of us in the time I'd known her, and she was cooperating with my interrogation. And if she really was a Watcher, even the special ammunition in my gun probably wouldn't do much more than tickle her. What finally broke the tension for me, though, was the tiny breeze that blew through my hair. Rover was back – small and weak, but he was still alive, if that word can be applied to a creature made entirely from magic – and he was recovering. I made a decision.
"I guess we're not going to find Devona standing around like this." It was awkward using my left hand, but I managed to holster my gun. Then I bent down and picked up the spent reverser. The talisman would be useless until Devona could get it recharged, but I didn't want to leave it lying around. The damn things were incredibly expensive, and Devona only owned a couple. I vowed to hold onto this one and give it back to her when I saw Devona again. And I would see her again, even if I had to open a Kongar-sized can of whup-ass on the entire city to make it happen.
"You can still call me Shamika if you like. It's a good name, isn't it? I got it from a woman who works as a chef at the Six-Legged Cafe. I figured that since she cooks insects, and my people resemble insects…" She grinned as if she was making a joke, but when none of us reacted, her smile fell away. "I thought it was kind of funny. I guess I don't fully understand humor yet."
We were back in the great room. I stood at my usual place by the illusory fire, Varney once again leaned on the wall opposite me, but this time only Shamika sat on the couch. Bogdan was standing over next to me. We'd taken a moment to check on Tavi. The lyke was still unconscious, but the lower half of his body had begun to regenerate. The healing was proceeding at a glacial pace, and it might be days before he was whole again, if not longer, but at least he was healing.
Varney's optic implant had completely repaired itself by now, and his cybernetic eye glowed red. I had no doubt it functioned as a weapon as well as a camera, and though I'd chosen to holster my gun, I suspected Varney was – not to make a pun – keeping his eye on Shamika.
"But you don't look like an insect," Varney said. "You look human."
"I can look like whatever I want," Shamika said. "We didn't have any form before the Darklords arrived. We were one vast shadowy creature, stretching for hundreds of miles in all directions. But when the Darklords saw us moving and rippling in the dark, one of them thought we resembled a carpet of black insects, and so we took that form."
"Insects with obsidian gems for eyes?" Bogdan said.
"It was Varvara, wasn't it?" I said. "She was the Darklord who accidentally gave you form, and you gained gem-like eyes because she thought of a demonic version of an insect."
"That's right," Shamika said. "We kept that form for many years, even after we began to become aware of the Darkfolk as Others. Insects can go anywhere in a city. There are thousands of places to hide, and when insects are spotted, no one pays them much attention. It was a perfect guise to wear while we conducted our observations. But we are not limited to that form."
I thought of murals I'd seen on the walls of the Nightspire depicting images of the Darkfolk's origins and evolution. The Darkfolk had begun as amorphous shadow creatures that were psycho-reactive, and as humans evolved, the Darkfolk took on shapes and attributes inspired by humanity's fears and nightmares. The Shadowings evolved naturally, but humans had turned them into the Darkfolk. From what Shamika was saying, it sounded like something similar had happened in this dimension. Only in this case, it was the Darkfolk who had unwittingly turned the native life form into the Watchers.