Madhouse

20

Niko's promise and the information turned out to be enough for Boggle. We ended up walking away. I had my suspicions there was more to it than actual forgiveness, faith, and goodwill. I thought that Boggle didn't want to lose one or more of her children. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter. We walked away and no boglets had to die, and that was a good day.

We hadn't learned anything new about Sawney, but that had been a long shot anyway. Boggle had roamed the tunnels separate from us, looking for him, but nothing had caught her attention other than a few bodies floating in the water. I didn't ask what she'd done with them, if anything. They were dead already. No one except Boggle who could use what was left of them. It sucked for them and their families, but there you go.

On the way back, we discussed Robin and came to the conclusion that if we didn't catch whoever was after him in the act, we were up the creek. I'd thought it was possible the guy hit by the train might've been the only one behind it all, but from the way Ishiah was pushing the puck, it now seemed less likely. With the Sawney situation, Robin's problem couldn't have come at a worse time. He also couldn't have picked a worse time to be a stubborn asshole about it, but that was Goodfellow for you.

Ishiah had said Robin had done something not quite ethical in the past. No surprise, right? But from the way he had said that, from the way Robin refused to talk about it, not ethical, in reality, probably didn't begin to cover it. Not for the retribution it had put into motion. We didn't even know how long ago whatever had happened had taken place.

I did know it was a mess, and if we hadn't needed him fighting with us so badly, I'd have been tempted to leave him at Promise's with Ishiah to keep an eye on him. But we needed everyone we could get. Hell, I planned on asking Ishiah if he'd close the bar for a night and take on Sawney with us. And if he could bring another peri or two with him, that would be fan-frigging-tastic.

It didn't turn out that way.

"No," he said in flat refusal. "I'm sorry."

He didn't sound sorry as he stood behind the bar, arms folded and looking a little too much like Niko for my peace of mind. Now that I'd had the thought, it was a done deal. I couldn't unthink it, and I had no desire to be roaming around Goodfellow's subconscious cravings, sexual or otherwise. None at all.

"I thought you wanted to help Robin," I demanded. I'd stopped by the bar as Niko went on to check out that idea he'd had regarding Sawney. It was a good idea, damn good. Here was hoping it worked.

"I do want to help Goodfellow with his problem from the past, but Sawney Beane is not that problem. I have to prioritize."

He actually said it. Prioritize. An insane mass murderer, unknown assassins, creatures with wings, a man with genes far more demon than angel, talking birds, talking mummies, dead wolves, revenant after revenant, skinned boggles, and he actually had the stones to say prioritize.

I was…well, hell, not to be repetitive … boggled.

"But you can have the night off," he added politely. "I'll consider it a personal day. Your check will, of course, be docked."

Forget boggled, now I was just pissed.

"Sawney could kill Robin as easily as whoever's after him. So you're saying you'll be okay with that?" I leaned across the bar to emphasize the accusation.

"Priorities," he said, unmoved, "and I also have a prior commitment. Not that that's any business of yours." Thick dark brows lowered. "I would think that you would be more concerned about preparing for the battle than berating your employer. And if you keep mutilating the customers, you won't have one of those for much longer."

I managed to leave without taking a swing at him, but it was a near thing. As Ishiah had a temper every bit as bad as mine, he would've swung back. He might look like a Nordic version of Niko, but there the resemblance ended. No matter how long-lived Ish might be, he was hell on wheels. He might be the most moral son of a bitch in the city, according to Robin, but right now, he wasn't any damn help.

That would turn out to be a theme of the day.

Delilah turned out to be unavailable, per Promise. In other words, she couldn't find her with a bloodhound—her or any other wolves willing to go up against Sawney again. Boggle was down for the count and Nushi was, as he'd said, a healer, not a fighter. Once again it was down to the four of us. Four against countless pseudo corpses and one genuine corpse returned to life, bringing his scythe and a hunger that couldn't be sated.

Two…no, three students now, and one maintenance man. I knew better than to think that would feed all of Sawney's new clan. They hunted some on campus, but I knew they were bringing home more bacon than that. Using Columbia as a central location and the asylum tunnels as home, they were bringing them in more than groups of two and three. Revenants had a hunger to almost match that of Sawney. Hunger to hunger, obedience and madness, a large clan of sheer starvation and raving insanity…

Four of us against that. Why the hell not?

"Don't forget the head shot," Niko said at my shoulder.

We stood just inside the front doors of Buell Hall— an empty Buell Hall thanks to Dr. Nushi. He'd cooked up a fumigation for a rat infestation scheme that had kept the place locked up for the day and now the night. He'd claimed he'd seen a few of Mickey's wayward cousins at a recent speech to the premed club and they couldn't close down the place fast enough.

"There's nothing like a head shot to distract a guy, I'll give you that," I said. "Just don't forget how fast he is. I'll do my best, but …" I gave a shrug and a cold grin. "At least I can promise to hit part of him. He might be able to walk around with a fist-sized hole in him, but I'd like to see him do it with sixteen or so of them."

"Always the optimist." He slapped me lightly on the back. "You restore my faith in the human condition."

I didn't bother to open my mouth on that one. One comment on how I was only half of the human condition would get me a painful nerve pinch. I let it go. "I try," I snorted, hefting the Eagle. I had a handful of extra clips on me, this time all explosive rounds. Revenants, Sawney, I didn't care which I blew apart tonight.

"You do realize I'm still in utter agony, a virtual cripple that you've dragged to near certain death." Robin was immaculate in copper shirt and brown slacks. His sword's hilt was chased with matching copper and small emeralds. It was a beautiful and graceful creation, but that didn't make the edge of the blade any less deadly. I wondered what excuse he'd given Seraglio to pack that up and bring it to Promise's apartment. Showing off his weapons collection maybe. That would work. Living as a human car salesman didn't stop "Rob Fellows" from being one helluva show-off.

"Yes, when you attempted to sexually assault my cleaning lady, your pain and suffering was abundantly clear." Promise's heather eyes narrowed and focused on a small gold hoop decorated with one tiny emerald drop that hung from Robin's ear. "Is that my earring you are wearing?"

"It matched the sword," he dismissed. "And it gives me a piratical look. I both pillage and I plunder. In fact, I all but invented the concepts," he said as he raised one wicked eyebrow. "Besides," he added carelessly, "you'll get it back."

"If you survive that near-certain death you spoke of?" she reminded with sweet poison.

"I'm sure you'll pluck it from my cold, clammy earlobe, Mrs. Nottinger-Granville-Schoenstein-Parsons-Depry. You seem to be quite adept at that."

A few days at Promise's place had disintegrated the truce the two had once had. Rooming with a friend never worked out when it came right down to it. Mild affection could turn to homicidal fury from one towel left on the floor or, in Robin's case, one orgy in the living room. Credit where credit was due, the majority of them did seem to be nurses. Or at least they were dressed like nurses. I didn't notice any of them treating his cracked rib before Promise began throwing them through the front door, but the medical field is an arcane business. I might have missed it.

"After I'm done with you, you won't have enough molecules joined together to form an earlobe," she snapped back. The Egyptian dagger Niko had given her was in her hand and ready to taste blood.

"We never should've had two kids," I said to Niko. "One would've been plenty."

He had doffed his duster and was hefting a backpack over his long-sleeve gray shirt, the steel bands around his wrists barely showing. There was no room on his back for the sheath of his katana and he was carrying it in one hand. "Do not put this on me. I've raised one already."

Identical looks of contempt hit us both. "Okay," I said hurriedly. "I'm ready. Nik, you ready?" How much worse could Sawney be than a pissed-off vampire and puck joining forces against us? Then, all joking aside, I asked, "Robin, seriously, you up for this?" He'd insisted that he was. The poison had passed from his system days ago, the rib was cracked and ached, but it wouldn't hold him back in a fight.

"Up for it? Kid, I was on the beach at Troy. By the way, Achilles? Everything they say he was." He lifted his chin, gaze unwavering. "Believe me, I can handle this."

Poisoned, shot, nearly an extra in Hitchcock's The Birds, why would he want to handle it after all that? I didn't want to admit it, had been struggling with it for a long time, but I knew the reason. He was our friend. My friend. Jesus, I was such a girl. When the hell had I gotten so damn soft?

"Just don't get your ass killed, okay?" I ordered gruffly. I didn't wait for an answer. We'd scouted out the upper building and it was clear. Now it was time to head downward, and I did. I moved down the hall to the basement-access door and hit the stairs.

There was nothing there. Not if you didn't count the stench of Sawney and the revenants. It was enough to have me breathing through my mouth. "Where's the tunnel entrance?"

Niko had obtained a map of the tunnel system from Nushi, memorized it, gone over it with me several times, and then drawn it in permanent ink on the back of my hands and on my forearms. Following that, he'd stuffed the map in my pocket, saying, "In case we're separated. It's not enough, I fear, but it's the best I can do." Brothers believe in you, but they also know you. I know east from west, but that was the most I could hope for.

"In the southeast corner, beside the furnace."

Which would be one reason the smell was so strong. It was literally cooking against the surface of the furnace. I followed Niko and then helped him pry up the metal trapdoor in the floor. It wasn't locked, but it had been. The remnants of a padlock lay off to one side. The metal was heavy as hell in our hands and we eased it down soundlessly to stare into the depths. More stairs, but these were much older. Splintered wood framed with iron, they disappeared into the darkness. One whiff was all I needed and I nodded. "Home sweet home."

Robin stared over my shoulder and sighed plaintively, "At least the beach at Troy was warm. There was sun and sand."

"Bloodstained sand," Niko pointed out as he started down.

"It was still sand." Robin followed him. "In my life I've learned you take the small pleasures where you find them."

We weren't going to find any of those below, I knew. No small pleasures—only the very large satisfaction of putting Sawney down, this time for good. I waved Promise on. Having her at Robin's back might keep him more on his toes. Danger from all sides, that would keep the adrenaline pumping and the senses sharp and ready. And if I enjoyed the hunted look he threw over his shoulder before he melted into the murk, hey, that was just gravy.

When Promise vanished below, I turned on the flashlight I carried in my left hand and went down after them. Gun in one hand, torch in the other, I walked down the steps with care. As creaky as they looked, they were sturdy beneath my feet.

"All clear." Niko's low murmur came drifting up past stone and plaster walls. They once would've been completely covered with plaster and painted. Over the years that plaster had been soaked time and time again and had rotted. Handfuls were gone in some spots and in other areas nothing but stone remained.

There were splatters on the steps, the stone and the filthy plaster. Brown and dried. Blood. One helluva lot of blood. Sawney had picked his cave all right and it was a good one, up until a few revenants had gotten sloppy and poached from the campus. Then they'd actually killed and fed aboveground right at their front door. Sawney was insane, but he was smart. He wouldn't have ordered that or allowed it if he knew. You don't shit in your own backyard; every good two-legged predator knows that. That meant the discipline wasn't as all-encompassing as it seemed, at least not with all of them. It was a good sign. If we could take Sawney, the revenants might scatter. They would definitely be less of a threat if they reverted to typical revenant fighting skills. Every ghoul for himself.

At the bottom of the stairs the brown stains covered the entire floor, from wall to wall. I could picture it. The body, maybe only half dead, of the victim being tossed down the stairs like garbage. If they weren't dead at the top, I hoped like hell they were when they hit the bottom. What kind of world was it when that could be credited as an actual hope?

Sawney's world.

The tunnel wasn't as cramped as I thought it might be, but it made me claustrophobic nonetheless. There were no rooms, no alcoves, nothing—just one long range of tunnel. You could go forward or back, but that was it. There was no spreading out if someone caught you from the front and behind. It wasn't a good tactical position to be in. We were moving at a pace slow enough that I could walk backward with gun ready for any revenant that might be bringing home a doggy bag. It was a very real possibility. We'd chosen night for the assault as we hoped most of the revenants would be out hunting. Sawney might be as well, but if he was, once he caught dinner he'd come home with it. That's all we cared about—nailing him when he did.

If we'd come during the day, they all would've been down here. Not a good prospect for success. Revenants could and did pass during the daylight if they covered up with hooded jackets to hide slick flesh and wore sunglasses to conceal a milky flash of eye. If they kept their head down, they could slide through the crowds, but mixing with the populace was different than killing and dragging a body across campus. Nighttime was best for that sort of work.

This way we'd double our chances of coming across Sawney with considerably fewer revenants at his side. That didn't make the odds in our favor, but it did make them better. I'd take it.

"We're at the first split."

I stopped and turned to see the tunnel break off to the left and right. Both tunnels reeked, but the one to the left did just a little more. I jerked my head in that direction. "That way."

We moved and this time faster as I settled for snatching a glance over my shoulder every few seconds at the tunnel behind us. We had more space between us and the entrance now, as well as two tunnels for the revenants to choose from. They did use both from the smell of it, even if this was their main path of travel.

"He'll know we're coming," Robin said as his fine leather shoes trod silently on the brown, crusted path.

"How do you know that?"

He looked back at me, the stolen earring glittering in the beam of my flashlight, but it was Promise who beat him to the punch with the mildest of sarcasm. "Only because he has every time so far?"

"Good point," I admitted.

"He'll know, but he won't run," Niko said. "This is his true cave. He will not give it up, and in his mind it is not as if he has anything to fear from us."

That was the sad truth. Dead wolves, a skinned boggle, and the fact that he'd eaten a chunk of my chest were all proof of that. He had no reason to run. We were better than cable, the most entertainment he'd had in a long, long time. Several hundred years to be exact. The son of a bitch would probably be glad to see us—cackle insanely in glee. And why not? Where better to do anything insanely than in the subterranean leftovers of an asylum?

Something sparked brightly at the bottom of the wall to the right and I stopped to pick it up. It was an engagement ring. The diamond was small and surrounded by even smaller rubies. Pretty, but for the couple on a budget. I knew the others had seen it; their eyes were as sharp as mine, but they'd passed it by. What could you do? She was gone, whoever she'd been. Gone far from this place and maybe she was no place at all, I didn't know. I did know she wouldn't want proof of her lo…of her existence…hidden down here in the fetid darkness. I put the ring in my pocket. At the very least I could leave it somewhere up top…someplace in the sun. Promise's gaze was the one that turned back this time, her eyes soft. I scowled and looked away. It was corny and stupid, picking up that ring—two things I wasn't. I really wasn't. And I hated that I'd been caught in it.

We walked on and the tunnel seemed to get more and more narrow, but I thought that was more me than actual reality. We'd been underground a lot lately and it reminded me … of what, I wasn't really sure. Abbagor's cave? Although we'd almost died there more than once, I didn't think that was it. It was deeper than that, an abscess aching from a long time ago. No, not Abbagor, but maybe something more terrifying than even he had been.

The Auphe had had me for two years. I couldn't recall a single moment of those years spent in a world separate from this one. But there were times I woke up to the feeling of rock beneath my fingers and the sense of tons of the same hanging overhead. Caves, the monsters loved the goddamn caves.

"Cal."

I drew in a breath of tainted air, trying to clean away what barely qualified as the shadow of a memory, and moved past Promise and Robin to stand beside Niko. "Yeah?"

"We have a room." He indicated the door almost fifty feet down the hall. I couldn't make out any details. It was at the edge of the flashlight beam.

"Okay. I'm ready." With the Desert Eagle and the explosive rounds, I was designated distraction of the day. I needed to keep Sawney's attention on me while Niko put his plan into play. As the Redcap had already acquired a taste for me, it shouldn't be that hard. I went on ahead with Niko close at my back. When I reached the door, I noticed the faded printing on it. hydrotherapy treatment room. I wanted to ask Nik what water had to do with the treatment of mental health, but kept silent as I moved a hand toward the handle. He could be there. Sawney could be right there, and I wasn't going to tip him off. I was ready for this to be over.

The element of surprise was lost with the screech of hinges almost rusted into a solid whole. That didn't mean it hadn't been opened recently. The metal was so old; it would never open easily again. Grimacing, I shoved at the door hard and with Niko's help got it open enough to let a person slip through, and through I went. The room was small and empty except for a water-filled square in the filthy tiled floor. Five feet by five feet, it was too small to be a pool and a little too early in plumbing history to be a whirlpool tub.

"Why is there water in it?" I mused aloud. It was murky and impenetrable and it shouldn't have been there. Whatever it had been used for in asylum days, I would think it would've long dried up over the past hundred years or so. "And what the hell was it for?"

"In less educated days, mental health workers used to plunge people over and over underwater. It was some time before they came to admit that near drowning didn't seem to improve anyone's mood disorder." Niko regarded the flat surface of the water with disdainful repugnance. "I doubt Sawney is using it for a reason any more enlightened."

He was right.

A hint of white swelled under the water, breached, then sank again. An arm, it had been an arm. Christ. You'd think I'd be getting used to finding body parts littering the landscape in Sawney's wake. I wasn't. As we continued to watch, a leg appeared and disappeared, followed by a hand. All were disembodied, all white and drained of blood. The hand was a woman's, delicate with nail polish the exact color of a rose I'd once seen at a flower stand. Pink with the faintest touch of peach—the color of spring. It was beautiful and it was awful and I wondered if the ring belonged to her.

"Goulash," Robin said beside us. "Lovely. I'll never eat again."

"I have seen worse. So have you." Promise nudged him into motion.

"So I have," he exhaled. "Although I could've done without the reminder."

We all turned to exit the room. I'd taken one step when the cold hand fastened around my ankle and I was suddenly breathing water—black water that served as the broth for body parts. I choked and held my breath as I kicked at the iron grip that pulled me down. I felt the random bump of decaying flotsam and jetsam and kicked all the harder. It didn't help. There was the sharp scrape of a tile-edged opening at my waist just as I felt fingers on my wrist from above. Warm fingers. Niko. But as suddenly as his grip had appeared, I was yanked from it. I passed through the opening that I could only feel, not see. After that there was more water, the burning of my lungs, and that implacable grasp on my ankle.

Finally just as my breath threatened to give out, I was dragged out into the air feet-first. Not unlike my birth, I came out kicking and screaming. Or kicking and spitting waterlogged curses. A revenant had his teeth buried in my thigh. I kicked him off with my other foot and he looked up, grinning at me with a mouthful of mottled yellow and green teeth. I aimed the Desert Eagle there and blew his head off. There was more splashing of water and I twisted to see another revenant rising from the water. I fired again and the pieces of him sank beneath the surface.

Now alone on the tile floor—except for one dead revenant—I coughed up water and did my best not to think about what had been in that water. Around me was a room that was identical to the one I'd been yanked from. Great. More cutting-edge mental health care. I looked at the water one more time and then shook my head dog-fashion, sending the water flying. Nik wasn't coming. If he were, he'd have been here already. The other revenant must have closed some sort of hatch in the passage that connected the two tanks of water. Closed and locked it.

I set the flashlight on the floor to prop against my leg, which wasn't bleeding too badly, wiped at my face, and rolled up my sleeve. On my arm the map of the tunnels sprang into view. Niko's anal-retentive ways paid off yet again. I mentally traced a path that would connect the tunnel this room was off back to the tunnel where the others were. I knew Nik would be doing the same. Hopefully, I'd meet them in the middle. I grabbed the light and scrambled to my feet. The door to the room was half open and I slipped through into the hall, turning left.

And there was the bad news.

It was a concrete wall, one that wasn't on the map. It wasn't nearly as old as the walls of the tunnel. A recent addition, perhaps to keep trespassers and the more adventurous students out of a less stable part of the tunnels. Whatever it was, right now it was a huge pain in the ass. I holstered my gun, switched the light to the other hand, and checked the map again. There was another connect, but it was in the other direction and farther. I gave in to the inevitable and started a steady lope.

The air was cool and damp, reminding me too much of the water I'd just come out of. I closed my mouth against it and kept moving. The revenants were waiting. I didn't expect anything different. It was the ones that weren't out hunting…who were done with hunting for the night. They were well fed and a little sluggish for it, but sluggish for a revenant is still fast—just not fast enough. They came in twos and threes into the light. I went through half a clip, but it wasn't the revenants that worried me. It was Sawney. If he showed up, that was it. He'd handled all of us with a boggle and wolf chaser. If he caught me alone, ego and a smart mouth wouldn't help me one damn bit. I thought of making a gate over to the next tunnel, but if I did that, there was no guarantee I'd be able to do my part when the time came. There was no guarantee I'd be conscious to even walk through that gate—not after the last time. I couldn't take that chance.

I kept running, but I listened for a familiar insane cackle. I listened hard. And when I came to another wall, I did something else as hard.

"Son of a bitch."

This wall was the same as the other, and it effectively penned me in the same as a mousetrap. It was a little less than a humane one with the revenants running around, but a damn effective one. Couldn't these people update their maps? I had the explosive rounds, true, and if it had been a plaster wall, I could've used a clip to put a nice hole in it. But this wasn't plaster; this was concrete. If I used every round I had on me…maybe, and then what would I use to distract Sawney? Other than serving up myself as a buffet supper, not a damn thing.

I didn't want to go back in the water, but I didn't see any way around it. I didn't know if I could get past whatever obstruction was down there, but I knew I couldn't get past this one. We were losing time. The later it got, the more revenants would come home from the hunt, and that would only make things harder. They were hard enough already. Goddamn it. I turned and this time, assuming I'd nailed all the revenants, I ran faster.

Assuming, it wasn't what I'd been taught. Niko has a quote…hell, Niko has a quote about anything and everything. This one had been about overconfidence or complacency, something to that effect. And then Niko had summed it up in terms I would actually remember. Assume, he had said, and you will get your ass kicked by me. It was slightly different than that old saying I'd learned in the sixth grade, but it got the point across. And I did remember Niko's version most of the time, but once in a while I blew it. Once in a while I had to say hello to Mr. Fuckup.

I thought I was alone. I was wrong.

"Traveler."

It stopped me in my tracks, that one single voice. I thought it was his at first, Sawney's, but the second time it came, I knew better. It was as gloating and predatory, but it wasn't coated with the oil slick of insanity. Instead it was coated with the dryness of dust and the grit of desert sand. I could smell the heat of a merciless sun rising from limestone tombs. Could all but hear the chanting of priests and the movement of a stone slab that would seal you in for human lifetimes.

My flashlight beam shot back and forth for several seconds before I spotted what I knew I would see. There was no cowboy hat this time, but there was the same resin-hardened flesh, blackened and withered lips, brown stubs of teeth…bandages, dry ones. He had been here awhile, then…waiting.

Wahanket.

The dusty glow flared in his eye hollows and the leathery jaw cracked in a crooked, jagged grin. "Surprised, traveler? You should not be. On occasion every scholar should engage in field research."

"What are you doing here? How the hell did you even know we'd be here?" I asked warily as I pulled my gun.

"Knowing your movements, the most simple of things. I set my little pet to follow you." Pet? Oh, Jesus, that damn squeaking zombie rat he'd been putting back together at the museum. It'd run off in the shadows and I never thought about it again. "It was my eyes. I saw you come to this place before…above. I knew you would return here, below. As for what I want?" The corpse grin twisted. "Observing. Recording. That has been my life in that wretched basement for years upon years. I want to participate." Like a kid who wanted to be in the school play. Yeah, whatever.

"I want it to be as it once was when I created kings. As I have created one now. Awakened one, rather." It was said with gloating satisfaction. Dynasty after dynasty, Robin had said. Thousands and thousands of years, even a king maker and scholar could get bored—could want to get back in the game. Have a little fun. But it didn't matter what he wanted, because he wasn't going to get it.

The gleam of metal in my hand wasn't the only one. I saw another as the withered hand flashed upward. I'd forgotten the brittle basement-dwelling sage loved all things high-tech. And guns were definitely advanced technology, like the 9mm I had so moronically given him. I threw myself against the wall, dropping the flashlight and firing as I went. The plaster exploded beside me, but several feet down. Loving technology didn't necessarily translate into being good at using it. Target practice had been limited in the museum.

Although he wasn't a crack shot, he was quick for a bag of bones and scraps of flesh. He disappeared in the dark. "What is Sawney giving you, you bastard?" I snapped. He'd woken him up just as he had the rat. Wahanket had somehow triggered Sawney's reintegration. Given him whatever boost he needed to explode back to life. That traveling exhibition had shown up in the museum and the mummy had seen his chance to be what he'd once been, a king maker. But Sawney wasn't his puppet. Sawney wasn't ruled by anything except his own madness.

"Sawney Beane offers me nothing in the way of material goods. He offers me nothing at all. But he creates a newly interesting world," drifted the voice of the Sphinx. "I tire of this monotonous existence. Day after day, year after year. I tire of the bloodless quest for knowledge." There was a sly satisfaction. "Even if that quest gave the Redcap this place. His true home. I tire of it all. I am ready for change and this one brings it in splendid, bold strokes."

The gun fired again. The bullet came closer. I'd tossed the flashlight when I'd first fired the Eagle, not that Wahanket seemed to need the help. Could mummies see in the dark? Probably. Could they repel bullets?

We'd see about that.

I methodically sprayed the entire clip back and forth across the tunnel, side to side and top to bottom. Reading about gun battles on the Internet was different than being in one, although he was probably hell on wheels when it came to a bow and arrow or sword. A gun, though…overconfidence…overconfidence was—damn, if only I could remember Niko's quote.

The smell of smoke filled my face, and my ears rang from the concussive blasts. I stayed close to the wall, felt around on the floor for the flashlight and switched it on, and held it at arm's length from my body to decrease my chances of being hit. I flicked it back and forth. Nothing. Okay, technically not true. There was something, just not the whole package. I moved forward and bent down to pick up Wahanket's gun, along with his hand still wrapped around it. As I made my way farther, I saw other bits and pieces of him. Not much, the occasional scrap of brown linen or blackened piece of dried flesh, but nothing substantial. It was a trail of bread crumbs, and they led back to the room, back to the pool.

The king maker had left the building.

Wahanket had changed his mind about being a participant after all. The role of researcher could be boring and monotonous, but the museum basement was safer than the real world. Wahanket had lost his edge a long time ago in those desert sands.

I looked down at the black water. "Once more into the breach,” I murmured to myself. Or as Goodfellow would've said, once more into the breeches. I grimaced. It was as bad hearing it in my head as hearing it in person. Exhaling, I holstered the Eagle, pried Wahanket's gun out of his severed hand, and shoved it in my waistband before diving into the water. I was lucky; Hank had left the hatch open for me in his hurry to escape. It made the body parts bumping against me as I swam not so bad. Yeah, right. It was goddamn horrible, and when I reached the other side, I scrambled out as fast as I possibly could.

Wet footprints led away across the tile. Wahanket was running back to his basement. He'd think twice about leaving it again.

"Where the hell have you been?"

I looked up from the footprints to see Niko in the doorway. He was still wet from his attempt to pull me out of the water. "Correction," he said with narrowed gaze, "what took you so damn long to get back?"

"You worry too much, Grandma." I grinned in relief at the sight of beetled brows and irritable gray eyes. Niko's worry was always clearly expressed—as annoyance. "Did you see Wahanket?"

He ignored the question as he looked me up and down, but Robin, behind him, answered. "We saw a few wet footprints and a piece of linen. Wahanket, eh? Crafty corpse. But I suppose that explains how Sawney found a place so perfectly suited for him."

"And for that, perhaps we will deal with him later." Niko indicated where the material of my jeans was ripped over my thigh. "Revenant?"

As much as I hated to admit it, I had to. "Yeah."

"One?"

"Two," I said defensively, "and I was trying not to drown at the time. It's not my fault."

"It's amazing. The person who shows up at our sparring session looks so very much like you too." He said it as if he hadn't felt my hand slide through his in the water as I disappeared to God knows where. As if he hadn't run from one hall to another only to be blocked by concrete walls. We all had ways of dealing. When the situation had been reversed, I dealt the same, with sharp-edged sarcasm— once I'd killed everything that had gotten in my way.

"I'd say bite me, but I've been bitten already. Besides, Goodfellow might jump over you and take advantage of it," I grumbled, but curved my lips again. "And there was nothing over there but revenants and Wahanket. No Sawney."

"Then let's go find him," Nik said, waiting until I preceded him. Watching my back.

"By the way, you have absolutely nothing I want to bite," Robin snorted as he moved through the door. "Egomaniac."

Promise swallowed that one in silence, but it would make a reappearance later. I had faith. We exited the dead end of the room and started back down the tunnel. We walked a hundred feet before we saw it. At first, I saw only a glimpse. Pale, it flashed, disappeared, reappeared, and then vanished again.

"Travelers." There was the low hiss of several voices in unison. "Trespassers."

Great, a new refrain.

"They've learned a new word," I drawled. "How goddamn clever is that?"

"Several rungs below a brainless parrot," Nik responded with arctic bite, "and an utter waste of our time." More damn revenants and no Sawney. We were all disappointed. I knew I was tired of hacking at their stubborn, disgusting flesh. There was no honor in battle, no honor in killing. There was only necessity. Niko had taught me that. But if there had been honor, revenants wouldn't have entered that picture anywhere.

"Trespassers." What had been glimpses became a long look and then a close-up of one of the most freakish things I'd ever seen. "Trespasserstrespasserstrespassers." They boiled into the light, arms flailing.

They were wearing straitjackets, every last one of them—left over from the good old madhouse days. No longer white, the grubby cloth was rotting and ripped. The overly long sleeves weren't fastened behind. Instead they flapped like the wings of maddened birds or wove through the air like a striking snake as the revenants ran. It was oddly hypnotic and not-so-oddly horrific. It wasn't enough that revenants looked like zombies; now they looked like zombies of the insane. Sawney wasn't happy just being mad himself or seeking it out; he had to dress up his goddamn pets that way as well. Talk about your hobbies we all could've done without.

"I've lived a long, long time and I've seen many, many things," Robin said, awed, at my back, "and I can confidently say that I have never seen anything quite like that." I didn't have time to respond. They were almost on us and I raised the Eagle and fired several shots.

Explosive rounds, they might not have much effect on Sawney, but they worked like a fucking charm on his boys. We didn't end up fighting them, but we did end up wearing them. I wiped a hand across my face, clearing it of pulverized flesh and thin, watery blood. I didn't wait for Robin's outraged comment about his wardrobe that had to be fast on its way. "Yeah, sorry about that," I said automatically as I heard his disbelieving gurgle behind me.

We moved on without further discussion. All in all, the best thing for me. We stepped over the bodies of straitjacketed revenants and dodged the two slow-moving ones that had craters in their heads. The spoonful of brains they had left kept them moving around, but not too aware.

Which is exactly how I felt when the ground disappeared beneath me.