Chapter 13

Passing out due to asphyxiation is bad. The headache that comes when you wake up is almost worst.

But I suppose it's better than not waking at all.

When I came to, my head was pounding with the worst migraine I'd ever had. I began to rub at my temples, keeping my eyes closed as I try to will away the pain. Meditating helped a little bit, but as I regained an awareness of my surroundings, my ability to concentrate quickly waned.

I suppose it was the stench that eventually clued me to the fact that I was laying atop a pile of corpses.

With a startled breath, I scrambled to my feet, tripping over the legs and limbs of the deceased. I managed to catch my balance before falling back atop them. A faint light filtered through the window, allowing me to barely make out the forms lying across the floor of the stark room.

The dead were in every stage of decay imaginable. Some looked fairly fresh; others looked like they'd been buried for decades. A few were nothing more than fragile bones heaped together, with no flesh present to bind them.

I gagged at the stench of it all, stumbling across the bodies to reach the door. Thankfully the door led outside, but even that didn't give me any respite from the horror. More bodies lay strewn across the ancient dirt street, trailing off in either direction. The one and two-story buildings on either side looked to contain their own collection of the deceased.

My foot slipped as I waded out into the street, and it took everything I had to ignore the squirming sensation of feeling maggots writhing between my toes. There was a slight breeze shifting the odors of death and decay all around me, and carrying with it the buzz of a million insects, all gathering to feast on the flesh unnaturally exposed.

Although, I suppose it could have been worse. The dead could have rose with me.

I searched about, trying to gain my bearings. A glance was all it took to realize I was no longer in the town where we'd been ambushed. Those streets and buildings had been old but cared for.

This new place was ancient. The doorways and windows lay vacant, save for the bodies draped across some of the thresholds. Nothing stirred from within save for the bugs, the place clearly a ghost town filled with nothing but corpses.

And yet, despite the emptiness, a faint lavender light shone in the air, emanating just a few blocks further up the road.

I considered running. In the opposite direction of the light, the road led down, a curving path descending what appeared to be the sloping side of the mountain. There was no other light to be seen, but surely if I headed down, I could find somewhere safe. Somewhere not filled with zombies and dark wizards.

But the light was Violet's.

I steadied myself, and then slowly made my way up.

As I went, I unconsciously reached for Sal's snakewood box, only to touch on the whole in my jacket where the bullet had hit me the day before. His box has been broken, and I'd never quite finished off my cigarettes to free up the other one for him. Last I'd seen him, he'd been with Argondian, or maybe it had been Simon. The night had been confusing, and I wasn't even sure which towns I'd visited.

I noticed that, although they'd left me with my clothes, everything else had been taken from me. My rings, the bone-white one and the silver ones linked to my spear, were gone. My leather bracelet with its spells, my tracking spell compass-watch, and the net spell bead bracelets I wore were all confiscated. So too was the collection of knives and weapons I'd had tucked about my person. And of course my boots, likely taken to make sure I wasn't tempted to run. As I stepped in a cold squishy pile of apple sauce — I didn't look to know differently — I missed the boots most of all.

The rest of my things had been left in the Ways, tucked into my duffel bag. As we'd scrambled to help the people of the first town, I'd figured running around with handguns under my arms wouldn't help matters. I'd tucked those, my glasses, my helmet and mask, and a few other weapons I'd have preferred keeping into the bag, and let Rose put it safely somewhere in the Never-never, where it wouldn't all be eaten by some eternal darkness.

Just another mistake in a string of them.

I don't know why I'd been so confident that we could defeat Salvago and his thralls. I'd been trying to prevent myself from giving into despair, and somehow managed to fool myself into thinking I could do something to help Violet.

But all I'd managed to do was get beaten, shot, and suffocated. And now I was a prisoner of war.

I made my way up through the streets, the buildings really just as corpse-like as the bodies themselves. There was no sign of habitation anywhere. The place had been abandoned long before electricity had been brought to the island. Wood and cloth had long ago rotted away, leaving the bones of the town upon the hill.

Eventually I reached the summit, where a collection of buildings marked the highest point in sight. The bodies of the deceased had ended not far from the top. I was thankful for that, as the stench had somewhat lessened, although it still permeated the air.

The town overlooked the island, and I could see that approaching on foot would be almost impossible, save for the single road winding its way up the mountain. The other sides were all cliffs descending into valleys leading to other hills; steep enough that only mountain goats would pass with any ease.

It was there, at the top, that I found Salvago and Violet.

The light I had seen had indeed been her torch, burning bright in the night. They were standing in what was a small open square among the highest buildings. A mass of people stood around them, staring mutely at the torch. At least twenty or so shuffled off down a side road, while still more stood waiting along another.

The fire wavered atop the Lampad's torch, and the waiting crowd seemed to sway with its motion.

"Don't try to interrupt," a voice said from behind, startling me.

I turned, not bothering to hide my shock. Standing in the entrance to one of the buildings was a hard woman with harder eyes. She was large, thick with muscle and tall in form. Her face was pleasant, in what you might call a handsome way. But the set to her visage was cold and firm, as was her tone.

"I won't," I finally said, realizing that the cloak the woman wore was the same gray as the other wardens. "Katya Sidorenko, I presume?"

The woman nodded slightly. She stepped closer, and as she did, the light revealed more about her. I saw that she wore a sword on one hip, as all the older wardens seemed to do. There was a strap around her chest, and I could see the rifle barrel extending over one shoulder. I noted a stone hanging from a leather necklace around her neck, which she tucked out of sight.

I also noticed a surprising ability to speak, and a distinct lack of green in her eyes.

"You're not like the others," I observed, turning so that I could look at her while also keeping Salvago and Violet in sight.

"No," she said, and seemed to have no inclination to say anything more. Her accent was thick, marking her as being from somewhere in eastern Europe or farther. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun behind her head, a no-nonsense look for a no-nonsense woman.

"What are they doing?" I finally asked, nodding back to the others.

"He is ensuring their loyalty and purity," she stated, no judgment in her tone.

"Enthralling them, you mean?"

"No," she said, irritation in the word. "Yannis does not want mindless servants; he wants loyal subjects."

"Stylizing himself a king, then?" I asked, a little surprised. What I'd seen of Salvago had certainly been dramatic, but not egotistical.

"No," she replied. I waited for something more, but she wasn't giving me much to work with.

"So, he takes innocent people against their will, enslaves them, and raises the peaceful dead, all for their own benefit." I gave her a look. "And you're working with him willingly."

"I am," she confirmed, although there might have been a hint of doubt in her words.

"What could possibly make you think this was okay?" I asked, gesturing around. Not just at the people apparently being brainwashed by Violet's light, but at the sea of corpses back down the hill. At the fires I could now see in the far distance, still burning through the night as the island struggled to make order out of the chaos.

"I have seen worse, and fear the worst yet to come," she replied, not turning her gaze from the dark wizard and the Lampad.

"Really?" I said, not bothering to temper my sarcasm. "What could be worse than this?"

"The death of the mortal world."

Her words chilled me, and I frowned at her. "I don't think humanity is on the brink of extinction. What are we at, seven billion?"

"Seven billion sheep ready for the slaughter," she replied, her voice still dispassionate. "Ignorant of the threat around them, of the danger lurking in their midst."

"And what danger is that?" I asked. "Diabetes? Heart disease? Because I think they're aware."

"There is a darkness growing," Katya said, finally turning her gaze from Salvago to me. "There is something corrupting humanity, corrupting the supernatural world. Something that is corrupting the Council, even from within."

"And what is this darkness? This phantom menace? Phantom menaces are the worst," I said, trying to keep the fear at bay with humor. But she missed the reference.

"I do not know," she confessed bluntly, without shame. "But I have seen its effects. I have seen good people die because of it."

"I'm seeing good people dying now, because of the things you're doing," I said, gesturing back toward the others.

"They are not dying," she said with a frown. "Once he has assured their loyalty, they will be released. Salvago will need the support of the people if he is to succeed."

"The support of the people?" I said in disbelief. "You've destroyed their homes; destroyed families! You've desecrated the dead, and perverted the laws of nature!"

"We do what we must," Salvago said from behind me, causing me to spin about.

The man had approached silently. Violet was still with the others, her torch reflected in their eyes. I turned to the man responsible for so much chaos and destruction, but saw no concern for the damage he'd wrought. Nor was there smugness, nor pride, nor celebration for having defeating us. There was no passion, nor morals, no life.

There was only cold logic and death.

"How could you do this?" I whispered, shaking my head. "These are your people."

"That is why I shall protect them," he said flatly. His eyes were as dull as the stone walls around us, as pale as the moonlight trying to pierce through the clouds overhead. He was gaunt, seemingly even more so than he'd been just a short time ago in the other town.

"Protect them from what?" I asked.

"From corruption," Salvago said, his dark eyes boring holes into me. "I have seen how men can be turned against others. I will not have that of my people."

"But isn't that what you're doing?" I asked, blindly gesturing toward the crowd that was just now leaving Violet. Another mass of people shuffled up from the road, awaiting their turn at whatever she was doing. "Aren't you bending them to your will?"

"I am ensuring that no other can taint their minds," he countered. "When I found the corruption within the Council, I did not know who to trust. I failed in telling one I thought was a friend, and he rewarded my loyalty with betrayal."

"Are you talking about LaFortier?" I asked, recalling what the others had said.

"He will pay with his life," Salvago stated simply. It wasn't a threat; he was simply stating a fact. He didn't even sound like he relished the idea, so much as recognized it as a necessity.

"He already has," I told him.

Katya stiffened, and Salvago's head tilted. "Ah. Then he did not betray me."

"Not from what the others said," I said. "He was killed by someone named Donald Morgan."

"Impossible," Salvago said immediately.

"How's that?"

"You do not know Donald Morgan," he said neutrally, although his eyes had grown distant. "No force on earth or beyond could turn him from his loyalty to the Council."

I shrugged. "Some of the others said it was because of the taint you were talking about," I said carefully. "That someone might have made him do it."

"Impossible," the man repeated with a slight shake of his head. It was almost robotic. "The taint is insufficient to force him."

"It's enough for you to control Peña and Somboon," I countered. "You know, your friends that you've turned into puppets."

"They were not turned using the corruption," he said with another tilt of his head. "I was forced to kill them. But they have proven useful, using the powers of the Lampad and the Hound."

"So, what? You hypnotized them like you did with the townspeople?" I asked doubtfully.

"No," the dark wizard said. "I removed their souls, made the appropriate modifications, and then restored them."

I don't think the man could have said a more terrifying sentence if he'd tried.

I stared at him, unable to process what he'd said. The words themselves were horrible and grotesque. To claim to take the immortal soul from someone, to play God with such a thing, was blasphemous, whatever religion you happen to believe in. And to claim that perverting them, breaking them to his will, was in some way an improvement, was revolting.

But what made it worse was his tone. Or lack their of. There was no guilt or sadness over what he'd done. There was no sorrow over the loss of life, nor regret that those he'd considered friends and allies were now nothing more than puppets.

There was no humanity left in this man.

"What have you done?" I asked, unable to hide my disgust.

The thing that had been Yannis Salvago interpreted my comment clinically. "I have imparted a piece of my own soul into theirs."

"You what?" I said, surprised I could still be surprised by him.

"It is the most efficient way of ensuring their loyalty," he advised me. "Protections like what I bestow on my fellow Chians would not work on them. Bending them by other means would cost them their power, making them all but useless to me. Taking pieces of their soul, in exchange for mine, is the only way."

I simply stared at the man, until I couldn't look at him anymore. I turned to Katya, who had joined him of her own free will, and realized she might be just as bad.

"You're mad," I whispered to both of them. "Utterly mad."

"Unlikely," Salvago said soberly. But apparently he wasn't so sure as to deny the possibility.

"Can't you see what you're doing is wrong?" I pleaded with him, hoping I was mistaken; hoping there might be some shred of humanity in him that would stop this madness. "You're destroying lives all in some mad attempt to… to what? To stop evil? You're committing atrocities to stop this darkness?"

The man studied me for a moment, and I thought I might have gotten through. But then he turned to look out over the town. "Do you know where we are?" he asked.

"No." There was no point in trying to reach him.

"This place is called Anavatos," he said, looking over the ghost town. There was almost something soft to his voice and eyes as he said the name. "This is my home."

I glanced around the bones of the ancient town. "It hasn't been anyone's home for a long time."

"No," he said, his voice hardening again. "Nearly two hundred years ago, pirates raided Chios, burning homes and villages and stealing from the people. While I was apprenticing with my master, men came to my home to steal, rape, and plunder.

"But Anavatos is well named," he said, the tenderness returning. "It was nearly impregnable, with the wall protecting the slope, and the cliffs protecting the town. It could last a siege for seasons, with its stores full and wells plentiful."

The humanity faded again, leaving the cold thing its place. "Do you know why this has not been a home for nearly two hundred years?"

I shook my head.

"Betrayal," he whispered, his eyes distant. "While the citizens prepared for a siege, a traitor opened the gates, admitting the raiders. All it took for fifteen hundred men, women and children to die was one man willing to sell his loyalty."

I looked out over the town, the wind atop the mountain giving me chills.

"Some died defending the town," he continued softly. "Some knew what was to come, and sought freedom at any cost, throwing themselves from the cliffs. The rest were left at the mercy of the raiders, who had none to give."

He turned back to me. "Over fifteen hundred dead. My family, dead. My sister, just coming in to her power, dead," he continued, a passion resurgent in his tone. "Everyone, dead."

I couldn't meet his eyes. I didn't want to feel anything for this monster. I didn't want to share anything with him, to sympathize with him.

But he wasn't the only one to have lost a sister.

"My life has been a never-ending cycle of betrayal and death," the dark wizard finally said. "First, here in Anavatos. Later, one of our brethren gave in to darkness, and brought the world to its knees not once, but twice. Kemmler burned the world to forge himself a weapon, all while betraying those that stood beside him.

"And it did not end with him," Salvago said, bitterness creeping into his inhuman voice, a jaded emotion I thought beyond him. "Now the Council faces more betrayal from within. Again and again. Justin, betraying our ideals, and working with the monsters we have sworn to fight. Simon and those at Archangel, betrayed by a traitor, killed in their own halls as the monsters swarmed against them.

"The betrayals in Sicily and the Congo," he growled, a rage growing that shook him as he spoke. Something glinted in his eyes as something like human pain swam up from the darkness that had consumed him. "Over a hundred Wardens of the White Council, my brothers and sisters of the sword, dead because someone betrayed them! Thousands of innocent lives, killed by the monsters, because someone betrayed them!"

By then the man was seething, the madness beginning to show in widened eyes and clenched teeth. "But would they do anything?! Of course not! Those fools act as if shading their eyes makes the threat disappear, when all they do is blind themselves!"

He shook, his entire body convulsing in anguish. "And then I find this corruption! This taint! This darkness spreading through the Council, corrupting us, polluting our thoughts and actions with its malfeasance!" Spittle flew as he raged, the tendons in his neck taught. "I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT!

"I WILL NOT LET THEM!"

His scream echoed out over the valleys, carried across the wind by his power, the mage blending his will with the air itself. It echoed like thunder across the clouds, rolling over the land like a storm.

The man screamed incoherently, his hate and his anger and his fear pouring out like a wave over the hills. It seemed endless, until at last, his breath faded, and with it his despair.

His breathing was heavy, but it slowly settled, until finally he stood as he did before, the wildness fading from his eyes. He looked out over the hills, calming himself, bottling it back up inside.

"I will not let them," he finally said. "I will burn the darkness from those infected by it. I have already done so with Katya, using the light of the Lampad's torch," he said, looking to the woman. She nodded, and I could see that his pain was hers, even if she hadn't cried out. His losses had been hers, and now she stood with the one she knew, the one who had saved her from this corruption.

"The torch will save the people of Chios," he continued. "The children are beyond its reach for now, but in time, as they grow, they too will need to be saved. They too will need the fire within them to prevent the darkness from taking root."

When he finally turned back to me, there was nothing of the man left. Dark and dead eyes met mine. "Those on the Council that have been corrupted shall be healed. The torch will find the traitors amongst us, and burn them from our ranks. The others will join me, and we will face the darkness together."

The man grew silent, confident in his plan. Confident that his way was best, and that his way was the only way.

Like so many other monsters in our history.

"And what of those that don't join you?" I asked softly. "What of those that do not agree with what you're doing here?"

The man met my gaze impassively. "They will be made to see, as I have done with my warden brethren. As will you, should you not choose to join us willingly."

Salvago turned, heading back to Violet, sure of his purpose and authority to choose for others.

Leaving me sure of his madness and insanity.