Earth was currently the possession of a force known to those aware of the Secret History as the Ally-a misnomer. It didn’t have humanity’s back, cared nothing for it, and valued it only for its sentience. Indifferent was the best description, but considering the alternative, indifference seemed downright benign. The alternative was the other half of the cosmic yin and yang, the Otherness-unquestionably inimical, and determined for countless millennia to add Earth to its own mosaic. But the Otherness’s mosaic was toxic to humanity, and life here would be hell under its influence.
An immortal named Rasalom-or the One-led the Otherness’s forces here. Glaeken had once led the Ally’s, had once been immortal, but had been released and allowed to age. He was now as mortal as Jack. Rasalom’s lifelong mission was to clear the path for the Otherness. All that stood between him and that goal now was the Lady. Extinguish her and this world would no longer appear sentient. The Ally would discard it and the Otherness could grab it for its own.
“Welcome to the Secret History of the World,” Jack said.
“Thanks. But in this case, knowledge isn’t power.” He positioned himself closer to Jack’s arm. “Hold still. Time for the butterflies.”
Jack put a whine in his voice. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Bill gave him a concerned look, then smiled. “For a moment there you almost had me.”
“You’d be amazed how many times that has come in handy.”
“I can’t imagine how, and I’m not going to try.”
He began applying the homemade butterflies, using them to bridge the wound edges and hold them together.
Glaeken said, “So now that the One has established that the Lady still cannot be harmed by anything of this Earth, including him, what does he do with that information?”
“He looks for another way to make an end run,” Weezy said. “The Fhinntmanchca failed, so did the Internet meltdown. He’ll need to find something else.”
Glaeken frowned. “Is there anything left to find?”
Jack shrugged. “I’m sure there is. Maybe Dawn’s baby.”
“Dawn’s baby,” Weezy said, shaking her head. “She’s out looking for him as we speak.”
“Any way you can help her find him?”
“I can try, but I’m still working on the Compendium.”
The ancient Compendium of Srem… Weezy had been collating its uncollated data since last year and still wasn’t finished. Its pages could be photographed, but the language would no longer be English. And so, with her faultless memory, she was probably one of the few people in the world who could wrestle it to coherence.
Jack felt like standing and pacing, but had to sit still for the butterflies. “Maybe it’s not the baby. Maybe that’s a red herring to distract us while he’s looking for something else. Whatever, we need to bring the battle to Rasalom before he finds something. But I’ve got to find him first.”
Glaeken’s intense blue eyes bored into him. “And should you find him, then what?”
“He goes down.”
“Don’t be so sure. At the risk of being a bore, I must remind you once again that he will not ‘go down,’ as you put it, easily. As the One, he has been gifted with extraordinary recuperative powers. As once was I.”
Glaeken had become kind of a broken record on that.
“How extraordinary?” Bill said.
“Wounds heal much more quickly than you’d imagine.” He pointed to Jack’s arm. “A scratch like that would heal almost immediately.”
“Scratch?” Bill said. “This is no scratch.”
Glaeken shrugged but said nothing.
Jack checked out the scars on the backs of the old guy’s gnarled hands. “But the wounds still left scars?”
He nodded. “Oh, yes.”
“What about penetrating wounds?”
“They take a little longer; they take a toll, but they heal.”
“Even the heart?”
“Even the heart. My body spat out a dozen or so bullets shortly before the Ally cut me loose to join you mortals.”
“Spat them out?”
Glaeken nodded. “More of a slow extrusion, I would say, but I hope you’re getting the picture.”
He was, and not liking it.
“How about amputations?”
“The bleeding will stop quickly, the stump will scar over, but what’s gone is gone.”
“No regeneration?”
“He remains human, and humans do not regenerate limbs.”
Bill was shaking his head. “How did I get myself into this?”
“You know very well how,” Glaeken said. “Your virtue nearly killed the One.”
Jack looked at the gentle, ponytailed, hippie-type guy patching up his arm. Almost killed Rasalom?
“Really? How-?”
“That’s for another time,” Glaeken said. “How do you plan to put him ‘down,’ as you say?”
Jack considered this a moment, then said, “Sounds like beheading will work.”
“It will, but you’ll never get that close.”
Jack knew that. “I guess that leaves kablooie.”
Glaeken frowned. “Kablooie?”
“Blow him to pieces.”
Glaeken’s expression became grim. “Yes, that will work. But it had better work the first time. You won’t get a second chance.”
“There won’t be a first time if I don’t find him.”
“How do you plan to do that?”
“Start at the last known sighting.”
“The Osala apartment?” Weezy said.
Jack nodded. “I’ll see what the doorman can tell me and go from there.”
“Be careful.”
“You sound like Gia.”
“Neither of us wants to see you hurt. Or worse.”
That makes three of us, Jack thought.
Bill had finished his butterflying and bandaging.
“That oughta hold you until you find a real doctor.”
Jack rose and extended his hand. “Thanks. Nice meeting you. We’ll have to talk about your set-to with Rasalom sometime.”
Bill gathered up his tape and bandages. “It won’t help you.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“I’m pretty sure. He wasn’t born yet.”
Before Jack could ask for an explanation, Glaeken rose.
“I must get back upstairs.”
They would have said good-bye to the Lady but she was still in her trance, communing with the noosphere, so they all followed Glaeken out into the hallway. Bill started for the stairway, but Glaeken didn’t follow.
“Coming?” he said, stopping and turning.
Glaeken shook his head as he pressed the elevator button. “I don’t feel up to the stairs today.”
Weezy put a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
Jack looked at Weezy and read the concern in her eyes-not much different from his own, he imagined. Was Glaeken failing? He seemed as solid and steady as ever, but this was a new twist. He’d been shuttling back and forth to the Lady’s apartment via the stairs since he’d moved her in. Why couldn’t he manage them now? His heart? His knees?
He was an old man, had been aging since his mortality was restored on the eve of World War II. His chronological age was mind-boggling. But what was his body age? That was what mattered. One day his body would give out, just like everybody else’s.
And then Jack would step into his shoes-or so he’d been told.
Hang in there, Glaeken, Jack thought. You keep on being the Defender, and I’ll stay perfectly happy being the Heir.
Bill too looked concerned. “Okay. See you upstairs.”
The elevator arrived and Glaeken pressed the Lobby button once the three of them were aboard.
“Kind of a roundabout way to go,” Jack said for lack of anything better.
Glaeken sighed. “I don’t have my key.”
The building had two elevators: Glaeken’s private express to his penthouse, and the local that required a key to reach his floor.
He turned to Weezy. “How is Dawn searching for her baby?”
“She tracked down one of the doctors at her delivery-a pediatrician-and she’s haunting him in the hope the baby will show up at his office. I’m worried about her. She’s become obsessed with finding that baby. It’s all she talks about anymore.”