“But what does that have to do with us? Why Vela and me?” Merl shrugged.
“I’ve always believed that forces are constantly at work to sustain balance in our dimensional world, and I don’t mean Upper Dimension forces, but something outside our comprehension. Call it the Creator or the Universe, whatever.” Samuel snorted. “You’re talking metaphysical bullshit.” Merl met his gaze. “If that idea doesn’t appeal, think of it as genetic intervention, that certain ascenders have genetic markers that get ticked when elements or stressors arise, like war. Then powers emerge, like yours and Vela’s, to counter other darker, more chaotic energies.” Vela twined a thick lock of her hair around her finger and turned toward Samuel. He’d said that his power had taken hold while he’d been bound by ropes and tortured. And hers had emerged at a time when three rogue generals were about to plunge Second Earth into a new round of war and misery. Maybe Merl was onto something.
She released the lock of hair. “Well, setting philosophy aside, tell us about Third Earth, what’s going on up there?”
“Nasty war. Much worse than Second. You don’t want to get drawn into their conflict but it looks like you just might. The trouble with Third is that there are several factions vying for supremacy right now, not just one.”
“What’s at the heart of the war?” Samuel asked. “Territorial disputes?”
“Vast disputes, going back millennia.”
“Is there a Militia Warrior contingent involved?”
“Yes, spread through the various factions, and each has an elite Warrior of the Blood force as well, which is why the war is so damn problematic; you’ll find men of great worth, slaying other men of equal worth.”
“But haven’t you just described every war that either vampire or humankind has ever waged?” Vela asked.
At that, Merl shifted in her direction and drew in a deep breath. “Samuel,” he said, staring at Vela. “You have a woman of great perception here and of understanding.” To Vela he added, “I believe you’ve spoken a truth, but perhaps only part of it. Not all warriors are honorable. But in the case of Third Earth, imagine Warrior Thorne battling someone just like him, in every respect. Now imagine being unable to get any faction to a negotiating table.” Once more, he drew a cigarette into his hand, already lit, and dragged deep.
She read his story in this simple, habitual reaction to a reminder of no doubt what he’d left behind in his world. Maybe where he’d failed.
She frowned. “Merl, were you kicked out of Third or did you leave on your own?” He rolled the cigarette between his knuckles, staring at it. “If any of the factions find me, they’ll kill me, which is why your busting through my wall at the end of a grid tunnel pisses the hell out of me.”
“Are you in danger, I mean right now?” She leaned forward slightly.
“Maybe. I don’t know. Depends on the wrecking squad that traced you.”
“So they work in squads,” she stated.
“Yep. And any of the factions can send squads through the darkening grid in order to destroy what they perceive as the enemy. The weapons are sawed off shotguns, very inelegant, but effective, and besides blowing a trespassing ascender to hell, can break through the walls of the grid, which in turn allows for quicker movement.”
“So, they must use explosive shells,” Samuel said.
Merl nodded. “10 gauge. The wrecker’s own power amplifies the shot.
You get a goddamn righteous explosion, enough to blow away your target and take down a grid wall, which ain’t easy.
Wreckers are a highly specialized and extremely well-paid faction of any army. I worked as one for a couple of decades at the turn of the 20th century. There are limitations, however, but that shotgun makes up for most of them.”
“What happens once a section of grid is destroyed? Does it get repaired?”
“Yep, with crews dedicated to clean- up and others to restoring grid walls. All Third Earth shit, developed centuries ago.
You were just lucky that Greaves didn’t catch wind of it but even Chustaffus knew not to encourage that beast.”“Chustaffus?” A chill shot through Vela, her instincts shouting at her that here was the real enemy.
“The reigning Prince of Darkness.
Sort of. He’s never been able to solidify control. But then, I’m not sure control is even what he wants. I used to think it was, but he has a perverted love of chaos. The more he can create, the happier he is.”
“So we were being pursued deliberately.” Samuel rocked on his heels.
The next smoke plume blew in Samuel’s direction. “Do you honestly think it was anything else? From what you’ve told me, the wreckers already had wind of you and had put a trace on Vela’s darkening aura. The moment she returned into the tunnel grid, the trace would have alerted the specific faction’s crew that went after you both.
“But what I really want to know is how the two of you found me. You shouldn’t have been able to.” Samuel shifted in Vela’s direction, his brow furrowed. “Vela has some kind of built-in guidance system that takes her through the grid. Wouldn’t you say that’s right?” She nodded. “Exactly.” Merl whistled. Glancing from one to the other, his gaze finally landed on Samuel. “Well, though I’m reluctant to give you any cred at all, you’ve got some serious chops, and you’ve the temper of a Warrior of the Blood, even a Third Warrior. But what I don’t get is where the hell did this power come from? How did it develop? This is Third Earth warrior shit, yet you’re still very much a Second ascender. So, exactly how long have you been releasing this badass mist?” Vela sensed Samuel’s thoughts shift, a kind of sliding into the dark experiences of his past. His molars moved against each other and his gaze slanted away from Merl. But he spoke of the torture, a few clipped sentences, ending with, “When Duncan found me in Honduras, he basically helped me to escape. I’d been experiencing a growth in power, but that day, it rose unexpectedly, streams of it that I couldn’t control, and I slaughtered those around me, all except Duncan who’d heard me shout at him to get the hell out of there. I didn’t even have a warning it was coming.” Merl scowled. “Grayle power can be like that, especially when it first arrives. Most warriors have signs of it long before the initial release and a mentor helps control the process. The problem is, no two grayle powers are exactly alike and sometimes bad things happen, like what happened to you.”
“Can those streams be controlled?” Samuel held his breath.
“You have to learn how to access them first.” Samuel shook his head. “I have no idea how to do that and believe me I’ve tried.”
“Be patient. It’ll come. But can I ask you if you ever saw your torturer?”
“Yes, though I never heard his name spoken. He was a tall motherfucker, built warrior big, finely trimmed goatee, long, thick black hair, black eyes. He wore three braids on each side of his head, the whole mass clipped back. Sound like someone you know?” Merl stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray at his elbow. Sometimes he used the ashtrays and at other times, he’d fold the lit cigarettes away. He dropped his head in his hands. “Shit.”
“All right,” Vela said, “Who the hell is he?”
“Sharav.
One of Chustaffus’s minions. Well at least now I can frame this, make sense of it. You were essentially in the hands of a madman.” Samuel snorted. “Hell, I could have told you that. He spent a lot of time hurting my wing-locks.” Vela shuddered.
But Merl’s chin dipped a couple of times as he looked up at Samuel. “The grayle comes from the locks. Your boy was experimenting on you, trying to create what apparently he succeeded in creating.”
“A freak?” Merl shook his head. “Sharav made a Third Earth Warrior from basic Second material. But it looks like his plan must have backfired.” The pronouncement set a vibration in Vela’s bones as her gaze drifted to Samuel. Her instincts boiled, running at her with critical information, that his status as a Third Warrior had great significance in her world and that her darkening power, fully able to engage in Third Earth, meshed with his.
“And when did Sharav capture you?”
“Eleven years ago and I spent a decade in that hellhole.”
“Then they’ve been here awhile.”
“What does that mean?” Vela asked.
Merl met her gaze. “The only access through normal folding has to occur through the Gateway to Third Earth, the one that Warrior Leto now guards. Which means, that one or more of the factions has found a way, through the darkening, to move back and forth between dimensions with no one the wiser.” Vela shifted in her seat. “Are you able to travel through the darkening?” Merl once more shook his head.
“When I lived on Third, I could, but not from this entrance point and believe me, I’ve tried. Once I set up this gate, I couldn’t go back.” Vela glanced around his living room.
The house looked settled, like it had been inhabited for a long time. The bookshelves opposite had papers stacked on them. A flat screen TV sat on a table by the wall to her left with three ashtrays lined up in front of it. The furniture resembled Danish modern from fifty-years-ago with a lot of light colored wood and simple lines. “So, who are you in this world, on Second Earth I mean?”
“I’m part of a small group of outcast Third Earth ascenders. I’m going to have to meet up with them in about a half-hour and talk over this turn of events. In the meantime, you’ll have to stay put. If you’ve been tagged, as I think you’ve been, spies here on Second will track your movements. Right now, you’re invisible and you should stay that way until I can get you more info.”
“One question,” Samuel asked. “If Sharav has been moving around on Second Earth, why hasn’t he come for me?” Merl’s lips curved slowly. “Could be a dozen reasons but my guess is that he’s afraid of you on some level, maybe of that part of your power that he can’t control. Doesn’t mean he won’t kill you if he gets the chance.