Mortal Coil. Derek Landy

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СКАЧАТЬ how about this? You look into the future for me, or I’ll kill you. Remnants can’t survive in something dead, am I right? So the moment Finbar’s body dies, the Remnant inside him dies too. Do you want to die? Either of you?”

      Finbar smiled. “You’re talking like there are two of us in here, man. There’s not. You had Finbar, you had the Remnant, and when you put them together, you get me. And I happen to think that the world would miss me too much if you killed me.”

      Wreath smiled back. “I thought you’d see it my way.”

      “I’m gonna need a few things before I start, though. Herbs, potions, a backrub …”

      “You have three seconds to begin.”

      “A very quick backrub, then.”

      Wreath raised the cane, and Finbar laughed. “OK, OK! I suppose I could do without the luxuries, just this one time. You’re gonna have to back off – I’m not gonna be able to attain the required level of relaxation if you’re hovering over me.”

      Wreath nodded. “Get it done, Remnant, or you’re going back in the bottle.”

      “Chill,” Finbar breathed, closing his eyes. “My old buddy Val,” he murmured. “Are you going to show me why everyone’s so interested in you, are you? Are you going to show me what’s in store for you …?”

      Wreath suppressed a sigh while Finbar prattled on, his voice growing softer and softer. He’d never had much time for Sensitives. They’d deliberately chosen a branch of magic where you reached out with your feelings instead of your fists. They were, in his opinion, a bunch of spaced-out, peace-loving hippies, and he’d never liked hippies. The 1960s and 70s had been particularly annoying times for him.

      “There she is,” Finbar said, a slight smile on his face. “Found her.”

      “How far ahead are you?” Wreath asked quickly.

      “Hard to say, man … She looks a little older … She’s got a tattoo …”

      “Is she a Necromancer?”

      Finbar’s brow creased over his closed eyes. “Don’t know …”

      “What’s she doing?”

      “Walking …”

      “Where?”

      “In the ruins.”

      Wreath shook his head. “That’s with Darquesse, right? I’m not interested in that. You need to find out if Valkyrie is the Death Bringer.”

      “I can only see what I see,” Finbar said in a sing-song voice. “My sight is drawn to the big moments …”

      “Then look away,” Wreath snarled, but his impatience went unnoticed.

      “I’ve never seen this much detail,” Finbar continued, deep in the trance. “I’ve always flinched … But now I can see it all … So many dead … It’s wonderful …”

      Wreath held his tongue.

      “I’m looking at Darquesse now … She’s magnificent … She’s striding through the city, death all around her … You’d like this, dude. So much death …”

      “I didn’t ask for a vision of Darquesse, I asked for a vision of Valkyrie.” Wreath’s eyes narrowed. “Unless …”

      Finbar smiled in his dream-state. “Unless?”

      “Is Valkyrie still there? Can you see her?”

      “I can sense her presence, but all I can see is Darquesse.”

      “Maybe that’s it,” Wreath said, sudden excitement burning through him. “Maybe that’s how she does it. If Valkyrie is the Death Bringer, maybe she’s the one who steps up and fights. Maybe she’s the one who stops Darquesse and then this, her victory, is what leads to the Passage. This is how she saves the world.”

      “I don’t see any of that,” Finbar said. “All I see is Darquesse.” His smile was replaced by a grimace. “This is painful, by the way …”

      “Keep looking.”

      “It hurts my head.”

      “Keep looking or you’ll lose that head.”

      “I’ll keep looking then.”

      Blood dripped from Finbar’s nose. Wreath said nothing.

      “I’ve found her again,” Finbar said happily.

      “Valkyrie?”

      “Darquesse. I’m … I’m drawn to her … I don’t have a choice. She is … everything. She’s so cold. I’m trying to get in closer, but she’s … She’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen …”

      “Can you see a weakness? How can Valkyrie destroy her?”

      “Darquesse will not be destroyed!” Finbar snarled suddenly. “She is everything!”

      “Tell me her weakness.”

      “She has none! She is perfection!”

      “Then who is she? Where does she come from?”

      Finbar strained harder, and blood began leaking from his ears. “The shadows are heavy around her … I’m trying to see her face … She’s looking away from me … No, wait, she’s turning, she’s turning, I can see her …”

      Finbar stopped talking.

      “Well?” Wreath pressed. “Can you see her face? What does she look like? Who is she?”

      Finbar’s eyes opened. He blinked up at Wreath. “This changes everything.”

      Wreath leaned in close. “Who is she, damn it?”

      “You Necromancers have your messiah,” Finbar said, “now we Remnants have ours.”

      The black veins appeared again, and his head shot forward and crunched against Wreath’s nose. Wreath stumbled back, cursing, feeling his shadow restraints collapse under Finbar’s Remnant-enhanced strength. Hands grabbed him, and suddenly he was flying into the far wall. He crashed through a shelf and sent equipment spilling out across the floor.

      “Hope you don’t mind, man,” Finbar said, smiling at him, “but I’m gonna take you over for a bit. I have a brand-new mission, and I need an upgrade.”

      Wreath tasted his own blood. His cane was on the floor behind him. There were two ways out of this room – the door and the window. The window was closer.

      Finbar opened his mouth wide. Wreath glimpsed the Remnant start to climb out and then he spun, snatching up his cane and using the shadows to smash the window. He leaped through the broken glass without the slightest СКАЧАТЬ