He was staring into Faye’s blue eyes.
Epilogue
But down these mean streets must go a man who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. The detective in this kind of story must be such a man. He is the hero; he is everything. He must be a complete man and a common man and yet an unusual man. He must be, to use a rather weathered phrase, a man of honor—by instinct, by inevitability, without thought of it and certainly without saying it… I think he might seduce a duchess and I am quite sure he would never spoil a virgin; if he is a man of honor in one thing, he is that in all things.
He is a relatively poor man, or he would not be a detective at all. He is a common man or he could not go among common people. He has a sense of character or he would not know his job. He will take no man’s money dishonestly and no man’s insolence without a due and dispassionate revenge. He is a lonely man and his pride is that you will treat him as a proud man or be very sorry you ever saw him. He talks as a man of his age talks—that is, with rude wit, a lively sense of the grotesque, a disgust for sham. And a contempt for pettiness.
The story is this man’s adventure in search of a hidden truth, and it would be no adventure if it did not happen to a man fit for adventure… If there were enough like him, the world would be a very safe place to live in, without becoming too dull to be worth living in.
One Year Later
He had woken up long before sunrise, kissed his still sleeping wife on the cheek, peeked in on their newborn son in his crib, and then left quietly. He’d heard the call. The time had come for them to go back to the world, which meant that it was going to be a busy day, but right now he just needed time to think.
The ocean wasn’t very far from the house, so he just walked. He had a bit of a limp now, probably would for the rest of his life. The Healing spells carved on his body had kept him alive and repaired most of the damage. The rest would be left to time.
The pre-dawn mist brought a bit of a chill with it. The ocean was close enough to sometimes hear the waves at night. Other than the water and the wind, this was a quiet place, a good place to heal, study, and prepare, a safe home, an isolated place. He liked it that way.
But apparently it hadn’t been isolated enough.
Toru Tokugawa was waiting for him on the beach with a sword in his hands. It looked like he’d been there for quite some time.
“Can’t say I’m surprised to see you.” Jake Sullivan stopped twenty feet away, hands in his pockets. “I figured this day would come.”
Toru had aged since they’d last met, but if the rumors were true, he’d been a very busy man. He was wearing traditional Japanese clothing, a dark kimono and hakama, with a daisho through the obi at his waist and another, longer no-dachi resting in his hands. Sullivan actually knew the terms now, but that was because he’d gotten a lot of practice speaking Japanese over the last year. They’d wanted their boy to grow up knowing both languages.
Toru bowed in greeting. It was a rather respectful gesture, all things considered. “You are a difficult man to find when you choose to be, Sullivan.”
“I told the whole Imperium that I was their devil…” Sullivan shrugged. “Then they went on a crusade killing every single thing they could get their hands on that might have been touched by the devil. Didn’t seem wise to go waving a big flag saying I survived.”
“I am curious. How did you survive? Saito’s death spell obliterated the palace.”
“Heinrich. He showed up, grabbed me, and Faded us through the bedrock when it blew.” It had been a hell of an exciting few days after that, hardly able to walk, full of holes, beaten half to death, and trying to get out as the city of Shanghai melted down around them. “You?”
“One of my brothers, Hayate—so a literal brother in this case—Traveled me away the instant before Saito’s spell triggered… but you were already aware that I still lived.”
“I’ve been laying low, don’t mean I haven’t been paying attention.” Sullivan said. “Your story went all over. The Imperium found out they’d been snookered, and then you cleaned out that nest of vipers. They even named you First Iron Guard.”
“I offered my seppuku. The Emperor disagreed.”
“How does it feel to go from traitor to national hero?”
“I would not know. I was never a traitor.” Toru chuckled.
Sullivan just smiled and shook his head.
The two men stood there silently for a time. Toru turned and studied the sea. “This war was brief, but costly. The last of the infiltrators have fled and are hiding in sewers, high mountains, or desolate swamps. They are nothing more than a dangerous, carnivorous nuisance now. I have been led to understand that this is the case in other lands as well, and where the Iron Guard cannot go, the Grimnoir have hunted these creatures nearly to extinction.”
“Rumor I heard was that they’re making you Chairman.”
“No. That office has been forever retired. I will merely serve as a humble advisor to the Emperor and the council on strategic matters. It is a posting of minor importance.”
Sullivan knew that was either false modesty or an outright lie. “I bet. And what do you plan on advising?”
“The nature of Okubo Tokugawa’s grand vision must adapt. With the Enemy imprisoned, we can look to a better future. The Imperium schools are no more. Unit 731 has been disbanded. I ordered an end to the experiments, and for now, our borders will stabilize and consolidate rather than grow… But already I have said too much… Did you know that the Imperium has decided to remove our military presence from Shanghai?”
“I’d heard something to that effect.”
“While our military was occupied dealing with the infiltrators, a charismatic young man managed to unite the city’s various feuding factions into a coherent resistance. With the Imperium Section in ruins, the council felt it was no longer economically viable to help manage the city.”
“So now it’s not just a Free City in name only.” Sullivan tried not to smile. Good work, Zhao.
“He is lucky he gave up my ashtray…” Toru shook his head ruefully. “But were you aware that Big Eared Du was murdered? There were many turf wars between the gangs after we pulled out. The new mastermind of the Yuesheng Greens is a mysterious figure known only as the Alienist.”
Now that was news. Nobody had seen Wells after the battle. “That I did not know. Guess he didn’t want to go back to Rockville… Not that there is a Rockville anymore.”
“And what of you, Sullivan? How have you passed the time?”
“You know me. Reading books, playing with spells. Nothing important.”
“Ah, of course… Elder.”
The Imperium’s spy network was better than expected. It wasn’t like he’d known about the society’s job offer for very long himself. “I was never much for titles.”
“And what do you ‘plan on advising’?”
“I’m more a hands on type, but if the Imperium torture schools are shut down and the eugenic madmen really are done, then I’d advise… restraint.”
Toru nodded thoughtfully. “There is wisdom in this.”
They’d lost a couple of the elders during the war against the infiltrator. Browning had filled one spot, and they’d figured who better for the seventh and final position than the man who they should have been listening to from the beginning? Montand had given Sullivan his vote before stepping down. Churchill had voted for him too. The deciding vote in Sullivan’s favor had come from the already serving American elder, and Sullivan had been surprised to learn that was William Donovan, newly appointed head of the OCI. And now that a long time knight had ensconced himself into the government job of watching Actives, they’d managed to completely sabotage Roosevelt’s control and registration schemes, all without the president being wise to it at all. Sullivan had to give them credit. The Grimnoir knew how to take the long view.