The Nekropolis Archives (123 page)

  I groaned.

  "Would you like me to tell you how many people watched it?" Dis asked.

  "I don't want to know. I just hope everyone forgets about it – and me – eventually."

  "There's little chance of that. You stopped a war between two Darklords and helped us make peace with the Watchers. If you thought you were well known before…"

  I sighed. "At least Devona will be happy. The publicity will be good for business. And speaking of Devona…" I turned to look in the direction of the bedroom.

  "Neither she nor Shamika can hear us talking," Dis said. "I've seen to that." He smiled. "Even if I hadn't, they're having too much fun playing with Shamika's website to pay any attention to us."

  "So what's the situation with the Darklords?" I asked. "Talaith didn't show up at our wedding, even though Varvara invited her. Despite my objections, I might add."

  "Most of the Darklords try not to hold grudges. Given how long we live and how often we come into conflict, we'd never get anything done if we stayed mad at one another. But not Talaith." He shook his head. "Sometimes I think she lives to hold grudges. But to answer your question, she's keeping to herself these days, overseeing the restoration of the Greensward and layering it with even stronger protective spells than it possessed before. She did lodge a formal complaint with me against Varvara and Galm, and while I'm sure she'll seek revenge on both of them at some point, I expect her to behave herself for the time being. So the balance of power in the city remains intact, and I have you to thank for that, Matt."

  I said, "Gratitude is good, but unfortunately you can't spend it."

  "My staff made a deposit into your bank account this morning, and I think you'll find the sum more than acceptable. Thank you once again for your service to the city, Matt."

  Shadows began to coalesce around Dis, and I knew he was about to dematerialize.

  "One moment," I said.

  The shadows paused, then slowly flowed back to the corners of the room.

  "Yes?" Dis said.

  "You didn't tell me the full truth when you spoke with me at Papa Chatha's, did you? I saw the way you looked at Shamika. You knew who and what she was, but you didn't say anything to me about it."

  "I was confident you'd figure it out on your own eventually."

  I said, "That's not it. You wanted my help to avert a war, but it wasn't a war between Talaith and Varvara you were worried about, was it? It was a war between Gregor and Shamika – or maybe between the Darkfolk and the Watchers."

  Dis looked at me with cold, impassive eyes, but he didn't contradict me.

  "You didn't want Shamika to know you'd talked to me. That's the real reason you froze everyone at Papa Chatha's, and why you're concealing our conversation from Devona and Shamika now. You don't want her to feel manipulated – even though she was."

  Dis looked at me a moment longer before letting out a soft sigh. It was a sigh full of weariness, long centuries of it, and hearing it made me feel for a moment as old as Time itself.

  "The Darklords and I made a mistake when we chose this dimension as the location to build Nekropolis," Dis began. "It's ironic, but we were fleeing from the persecution by humanity, and by building our city here, we ended up doing the same thing humans have done so often throughout their long, sad history: colonizing a land already inhabited by others… a land where we were not welcome. As powerful as we Darkfolk are, I knew we could never win against the Watchers. There were simply too many of them. And abandoning the city and starting over in another dimension just wasn't practical. So when I became aware that not only was Gregor still alive, but he'd fragmented into two separate personalities, I decided that you were the city's best hope for dealing with the Watchers."

  "Me? What did you think I could do?"

  Dis smiled. "In case you hadn't noticed, you have a knack for finding unorthodox solutions to problems. More to the point, you've kept your humanity, despite having become one more monster in a city filled with them. I knew if anyone could help the Watchers discover the better part of their nature, it would be you."

  "If I had a functioning circulatory system, I might blush," I said. After a moment's thought, I added, "And despite your insistence that you couldn't interfere, it strikes me as awfully convenient that my severed hand was able to operate so effectively on its own, and that Gregor should be completely oblivious to it. You didn't perhaps secretly use a little of your power to make that happen, did you?"

  Dis' silence answered for him.

  "You know, you might be the Lord of all the Darkfolk, the biggest, baddest horror in a city full of foul creatures and evil fiends, but deep down you're not so bad."

  Dis' eyes clouded over with shadow until they were completely black, like a shark's, and when he spoke next, his voice was as cold as the grave.

  "Don't be mistaken, Matt. I care only about my people's welfare, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect them. If I had to slaughter a million innocents to preserve the Darkfolk, I'd do it, and without a moment's hesitation. In this case, it just so happened that peace was the most logical and efficient solution."

  I looked into the deep black eyes of a being so ancient and powerful that he could destroy me with a single thought.

  "Bullshit," I said.

  In reply Dis just smiled, gathered the shadows around him, and was gone.

  I sat there a bit longer, trying to decide if it was worth watching the razorball game even though I knew how it was going to turn out, but in the end I decided to get up and go into the bedroom and check out Shamika's website.

  But before I could stand, the Mind's Eye opened its lid of its own accord, and an image appeared in my mind. It was Lord Edrigu. He looked to the right and then the left, as if making sure we were alone. There was a nervous, almost desperate energy in his movements, and his eyes looked, appropriately enough, haunted.

  "Is Dis gone? Good. Listen closely, Matt. I have to leave Nekropolis. Immediately. Until I return, I need you to fill in for me. As of this moment, you're Lord of the Dead."

  Edrigu vanished, and the Mind's Eye closed its lid as the transmission ended.

  I sat there for several moments, staring at the deactivated set, and then finally, I cleared my throat and called out in a strained voice.

  "Devona? Honey? There's something I need to tell you."

About the Author

Tim Waggoner is an American novelist and college professor. His original novels include
Cross County
,
Darkness Wakes
,
Pandora Drive
, and
Like Death
. His tie-in novels include
The Lady Ruin
series and the
Blade of the Flame
trilogy, both for Wizards of the Coast. He's also written fiction based on
Stargate: SG-1
,
Doctor Who
,
A Nightmare on Elm Street
, the video game
Defender
,
Xena the Warrior Princess
, and others. He's published over one hundred short stories, some of which are collected in
Broken Shadows
and
All Too Surreal
. His articles on writing have appeared in
Writer's Digest, Writers' Journal
and other publications.

  He teaches composition and creative writing at Sinclair Community College in Dayton, Ohio, and is a faculty mentor in Seton Hill University's Master of Arts in Writing Popular Fiction program in Greensburg, Pennsylvania.

www.timwaggoner.com

By the Same Author

Novels

Nekropolis

Dead Streets

Dark War

Cross County

Dark Ages: Gangrel

Darkness Wakes

Defender: Hyperswarm

Dying For It

Godfire: The Orchard of Dreams

The Harmony Society

In the Shadow of Ruin

Like Death

A Nightmare on Elm Street: Protégé

Pandora Drive

A Shadow Over Heaven's Eye

Stargate SG-1: Valhalla

Blade of the Flame

Thieves of Blood

Forge of the Mindslayers

Sea of Death

Dragonlance, the New Adventures

Temple of the Dragonslayer

Return of the Sorceress

Collections

All Too Surreal

Broken Shadows

ANGRY ROBOT

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Lace Market House,
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Nottingham,
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www.angryrobotbooks.com
 

The Loving Dead

An Angry Robot paperback original 2012 

1

Copyright © Tim Waggoner 2012

Tim Waggoner asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

UK ISBN: 978 0 85766 207 1
US ISBN: 978 0 85766 208 8
eBook ISBN: 978 0 85766 209 5

Set in Meridien by THL Design.

Printed in the UK by CPI Mackays, Chatham, ME5 8TD.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

The Nekropolis Archives

HOW TO SURVIVE YOUR FIRST TEN MINUTES IN NEKROPOLIS

DISARMED AND DANGEROUS

NEKROPOLIS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

THE MIDNIGHT WATCH

DEAD STREETS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN