Chapter Thirty-Three: Starting Anew

I shouted, "You’ve lost! Hand him over!"
Somber shouted again, "Shoot! Shoot!"
The bandits stared in disbelief, muttering, "I... can't move." Their limbs seemed bound, powerless to act.
I too was surprised, knowing it was Master Helsing’s doing. I said, "You’ve been defeated! Will you not admit it? Is this all the pride your noble houses possess?"
Somber snorted, then suddenly cried, "I haven’t lost yet!" He struck at my head again, but I parried with my rifle, sliding back several meters. Then, behind Somber, my shadow pierced his abdomen. His eyes widened, bloodshot, and he glanced back, saying, "You... you’re Larsen the Revenant?"
I replied, "Think what you will. Do you want to continue?"
Somber bellowed, blood swirling around him as his wounds began to heal, but his whole body was now riddled with flaws. I struck him again. He braced himself on the ground, fear in his eyes. "If you kill me, the Maizong will butcher you."
I said, "At least I’d have a chance to run. You have none."
Somber hesitated, then pleaded, "I... I’ll let the boy go, but you... you must not harm me, all right?"
I pointed my rifle at his throat. "What did you do to him?"
Somber said, "I just... drank a little of his blood. Barely enough to matter."
I asked, "Did you make him your thrall?"
Somber hastily replied, "No! Rest assured. I have no shortage of thralls."
I sliced his throat. In terror, he clutched it and used his blood to heal the wound, which closed soon after. He cried hoarsely, "Bring out the boy from Mann Street!"
After a while, they brought out a boy of about ten. He was delicate—perhaps too delicate—his long hair and thin clothes revealing narrow shoulders, making him look almost like a girl. In the dim firelight, I saw how haggard he was. I approached and draped my coat around him.
I asked, "What’s your name?"
He stared blankly, but tears streamed down his face. "My name is Bett, Bett Mann." In a small voice, he asked, "How’s my sister?"
I replied, "We’ll talk about that later. Let’s get out of here first."
Somber got to his feet. I glanced at him. His face was furious, like a cornered wolf. He dared not fight me further but still growled, "You’ll regret this, Ranger."
In a flash, every one of his followers behind him fell to a single blade, blood spurting from their thighs. The wounds were not nearly as frightening as the terror on their faces—Helsing’s psychic blade had deeply shaken them.
It was Helsing’s swordsmanship—truly extraordinary, soul-stirring.
Somber dared not make another sound. Perhaps he suspected a powerful noble was backing me. He disappeared into the crowd and was gone.
Bett and I left together.
I found Milsay and Helsing. Helsing glanced at the child and said, "His heart is deeply wounded."
Yaochi stroked his hair and cheek. "Do you remember me? I’m Yaochi, your sister’s friend."
Bett bit his lip and wept, unable to stop the tears. "I want my sister."
Yaochi said, "Stay with us for now. We’ll tell you about your sister in time."
Bett nodded. I realized I could get nothing more from him, nor did I want to deepen his trauma. So I said, "I must continue to investigate Koloff’s whereabouts."
Helsing said, "It’s late. I’ll take Yaochi home."
I quickly said, "Master, we need your help."

Helsing shook his head. "Yaochi isn’t well enough. I can’t leave her alone, and she needs to prepare for the day after tomorrow at the Michael estate."
Yaochi squeezed my hand. "I know it’s difficult, but you must use the Ghostfire Amulet. It might help you find the revenant."
After they left, I saw Salvador and Milsay had no intention of stopping. "Salvador, go tell Lamia and Betty about the case. Milsay and I will keep investigating."
Salvador said, "No, they must already know we’re on the case. I’ll stick with you."
Milsay asked, "What else do you know?"
I said, "Let’s find somewhere to eat and talk over dinner."
We found a street-side diner. As the food was served, I realized the fare in Black Coffin was hardly cleaner than my roasted dog meat.
But the money was paid, and I had to accept it. After these days of comfort, perhaps my iron stomach needed some reforging.
I slurped fried noodles and told them what I’d learned from Tauler. Salvador sipped cheap beer and said, "So it was the Blood Pact gang!"
Milsay wiped the grease from his mouth. "But the key figure is Koloff."
Salvador said, "Isn’t it possible Tauler lied to shift all blame to Koloff, who isn’t with the Blood Pact gang?"
I replied, "If it’s a lie, it’s a clumsy one."
Salvador said, "Sometimes a clumsy lie is more convincing."
I regretted not detaining Somber to confirm Tauler’s story. But Somber was too dangerous to tangle with.
Still, Somber had said Koloff had caused the Blood Pact gang great trouble. Tauler hadn’t made it up.
Salvador listened quietly, drinking, then said, "Is Koloff a blacklander? Most likely. He must have fled to town, with the Blood Pact gang helping him escape."
That was the trouble: Black Coffin was vast, and who knew where Koloff had gone? He might have fled beyond the town, where entry and exit were much less controlled than the skyscraper.
Vaga’s voice startled me: "I may have another lead."
I excused myself to the restroom, out of earshot. "What lead?"
Vaga: "I have other ways in and out of Black Coffin. After the fire today, I helped a blacklander leave."
Suspicious, I pressed my head against the grimy wall. "A blacklander? Was it Koloff?"
Vaga said, "No, another. In hindsight, it was Rita Mann’s boyfriend. I didn’t know at the time."
I asked, "How did you do it? Are you with the Blood Pact gang?" But I quickly realized this was Vaga’s side business. She controlled nearly all Black Coffin’s networks, communications, and records. With her free will, she could do as she pleased—undetectable.
Vaga said, "Not with the Blood Pact gang. I’ll have him contact you."
It seemed Vaga had many pawns in Black Coffin. I felt a twinge of jealousy.
She said, "Don’t worry, among them, you’re the special one."
Her candor made me smile.
Vaga believed the missing boyfriend knew the hidden truth about Rita’s death. On reflection, wasn’t that likely? Koloff turned Rita into a revenant to deal with him—or more likely, to send him a message.
We finished eating. Out of leads, we wandered the fifteenth-level market. I guessed there were scavengers in Black Coffin too. I saw old knickknacks—portable communicators, perhaps once valuable but now just scrap.
The glory of the past inevitably fades. I felt no pity. On the contrary, I thought eternal life was a distortion, and death a good end. What lies at the end of glory? Surely, a terrible madness.

I told Milsay the story of Waterless Village’s demise. He wept, which was understandable—after all, I had almost cuckolded him.
No, he had almost cuckolded me. But Dalia... never mind, it’s meaningless now.
I said, "I failed to notice my father’s strangeness in time. I didn’t do enough."
Milsay wiped his tears. "No one can blame you—least of all me. You’re right, I’m a deserter, a useless wretch."
But then he swore through clenched teeth, "I’ll find Dalia, no matter how far I must travel in the otherworlds—as long as she lives, I’ll find her."
And if she still lived, what would she be like?
Endless life, the radiant sun, making kings of the many, the many of kings...
Every hair on my body stood on end from the cold. I’ve seen too much horror, but what happened that day was still the nightmare of nightmares.
A figure darted from across the street—a fifteen-year-old boy in dusty clothes. "Sir, do you know the One-Eyed Lady Immortal?"
The One-Eyed Lady Immortal?
Vaga replied, "That’s me."
I grinned. "Yes, I know her."
The boy thought, then said, "Name her favorite song."
Without hesitation I replied, "The River of Loss."
The boy bowed. "Please come with me, sirs."
The elevator reached ground level. He led us out of the skyscraper. At the door was a scanner to check for undeclared contraband, but Vaga spared us inspection.
The boy said, "It’s harder to enter the skyscraper than to leave, but neither is easy. Yet the One-Eyed Lady Immortal manages it. We all admire her."
I asked, "Isn’t she afraid of causing chaos in the skyscraper?"
The boy replied, "Sir, you should see the lower levels. People there live in constant dread, barely scraping by."
Milsay asked, "Then why not live outside?"
The boy laughed. "Sir, don’t you know how cruel the sun is?"
Milsay sighed. "I know, but living without dignity in the skyscraper isn’t necessarily better than the freedom outside."
The boy said, "A long life is better than a short one. Living is better than dying."
I couldn’t agree, but I was living well enough, so I didn’t argue.
Beside the cobalt-chromium district in Black Coffin Town was a spacious black shack. The boy led us in. Several older, tall boys waited inside, all armed.
I truly disapproved of Vaga’s methods of educating the young.
I asked, "Were you the ones who helped the blacklander from the fifteenth floor escape?"
A boy sitting behind a desk, with the air of a boss, snorted. "Yes. I just want to know—what’s in it for us if we share what we know?"