Stories From the Shadowlands Read online

  Day 1985

  I've found the nest (6 blocks west, 29 blocks south of leaning tower/pyramid) in the top two floors of a four-story tenement. They are using the residents on the lower floors as both recruits and cover. I hid in an apartment across the street and watched at night while they did their evil ritual. It took everything in me not to climb the stairs and intervene, but there are too many of them, at least 50. I need Takeshi and two squads of Guards. I've sent one of the Street Guards to the Station to inform the Captain.

  Day 1987

  Takeshi joined me in the apartment I've claimed a few hours ago. One squad is coming from the southwesterly outpost and another is being drawn from the other approximately 12 miles due south. In the time I've been waiting, I've watched two more souls destroyed by the Mazikin. It makes me sick to watch, but I do not look away. I will bear witness to what they've done, and tomorrow, I will repay the Mazikin for their cruelty.

  Day 1988

  It is done. We swarmed the building from all entry points while more Guards remained outside to prevent escape. We have captured any residents who may still be themselves, but they will be held until their status can be definitively determined. I stationed myself in the stairwell on the second floor and terminated several Mazikin myself. It was two hours of bloody chaos. And now I am back in the apartment and wondering: did I only kill Mazikin? Or did I mistakenly kill humans as well?

  Day 4000

  Four thousand days in this city. So long, but when I realize it is only the beginning of forever, it makes it difficult to breathe. Most days, it doesn't bother me, but today… I wonder if my family remembers me, if they ever wonder where I am. They are a constant ache in my chest, but perhaps I am barely even a memory to them. I think that might be the worst punishment of all, to wonder if the people who loved you have forgotten your face and your name.

  Day 4003

  One of the Guards made a terrible discovery today as we prepared our assault plan on the nest we located to the northwest of the southeastern Guard outpost. There is a second nest, or so he claims—and this one is less than ten miles to the south-southwest of the Station, much closer than a nest has ever been to the Sanctum or our base. I am leaving immediately to do reconnaissance. If it is true, it means that the Mazikin have been growing their numbers quickly and without detection. In other words, it means that I am failing the people of this city.

  Day 4008

  I interrogated a Mazikin prisoner today. Ara, a well-known scout I captured five blocks north of the nest we've located near the Station. She knew she was destined for the tower, and her terror got the best of her as I began to question her.

  I told her that I might spare her if she gave me what I wanted. So she did. She gave me numbers. She gave me the name of the leader of this second nest—a Mazikin I have not encountered before who goes by "Juri." She confirmed that Sil is responsible for the other nest. She talked and talked and talked, and as Russian is her preferred language, I took notes and did my best to keep up.

  At the end, she looked up at me. Though there is an animal inside her, a truly evil demon who brings nothing but destruction, her smile was strangely beautiful in its hope for mercy. And as I gave the order to prepare her for transport downtown, as she began to scream, I wondered if I have become strangely ugly in my deceit.

  Is it wrong to lie, given what's at stake?

  Is it wrong to hurt and maim and kill, if I am doing my duty and protecting the defenseless citizens beneath this dome of darkness?

  Takeshi says this is in the service of what is right, but I cannot help but fear that I lose a piece of myself every single time. Still, I will do what I can, perhaps until there is nothing left of me.

  Day 4010

  I should be sleeping. A few hours from now, I will be leading an assault on a Mazikin nest, the first time I have been the ranking officer in an operation this large. Takeshi is to the south, where he will lead a coordinated attack on the other nest. He and his Guards left this morning.

  I cannot quiet my thoughts.

  There is a Mazikin standing outside the corner building where we know the nest is located. I have been watching him for quite a while. I do not recognize him, but that is not unusual. There's a chance I've killed him before, and he is merely wearing a new skin. Or perhaps not. There is something bold in his posture, chillingly fearless. He reminds me of Nero, though I know it could not possibly be him. From my vantage point on the fourth floor of this high-rise, I can see him, looking up at the sky and squinting. It is such a human behavior, something I have done many times, desperate to see the sky, the stars, the sun.

  What are his thoughts, I wonder—

  As I wrote that, he did the eeriest thing. He stopped looking at the sky—and he started to look up the street. Something has caught his attention. I know it isn't possible, but from this distance, it seems as if he is looking right at me. And now he has gone inside. There was something about the way his posture changed that tells me he is tense with suspicion and alarm. No more waiting. I am going to give the order for an immediate attack.

  Day 4011

  Nest destroyed. No sign of a single survivor. Awaiting word from Takeshi as to whether his assault was also successful. I am also awaiting my turn under the healing hands of Raphael, as I've suffered a bite wound to my shoulder and claw scrapes to my throat. Other Guards were more severely wounded, though, and they must be tended to first.

  The Mazikin who was standing outside the building—that was Juri, the one Ara had told me about. He was brazen during the attack. Far more so than Sil ever has been. Instead of ordering his Mazikin to flee, as we expected, he commanded them to fight, and then took me on himself. And the only reason I know it was Juri is because he touched his chest as he stalked forward, and he told me himself. He wanted me to know his name.

  It was not a difficult battle. He did not last long, though he was able to wound me. That did not worry me—but his demeanor did. He appeared curious during his attack on me, as if he knew it would not be the only time, as if he was focused more on learning than surviving. So I tried to subdue him. He might not have been a threat today, but he was so eerily calm, so assured, so calculating… I knew he would be a threat in the future if I did not take care.

  But he forced my hand. He seemed almost happy when I plunged my blade into his chest. He whispered a word in a language I do not understand, and when I asked Raphael, he said it meant "soon."

  Day 4013

  Our dual assault on the nests cut the Mazikin numbers to nearly nothing, but we discovered signs this morning that some of them escaped from the southernmost enclave. Takeshi was white with rage, and he would not look at me. I can tell he believes he is the one who failed us all, but it could just as easily have been my mission.

  I wanted to ask him about Sil, who wears the skin of Takeshi's countrymen so he can mock him in his own language. And about Nero, who did the same with Philip and other Guards before him. I cannot stop thinking about Juri and the way he looked at me. As if he had chosen me, as if he had come just to take me on.

  But even as I write that, it seems rather self-centered and paranoid. Still, his final word—soon—echoes in my nightmares.

  Day 4561

  It's been at least a hundred days at least since I thought about him, Juri, the Mazikin who brazenly took me on, the one whose final word had faded in my memory until tonight, when he whispered it into my nightmare once again.

  SOON.

  Everything has been quiet as of late. We know there are Mazikin in the city, but they are once again underground. This dream tonight, that memory of Juri standing under the dome, staring greedily at the sky, the sound of his voice promising his return… I will not become complacent in this ebb of activity. I will use it to plan for the next time we meet, because I know it is coming.

  Day 4612

  "This is your fourth training injury in as many weeks," Raphael said when he appeared in my quarters this afternoon. "Takeshi is concerned for
you."

  I laughed. "Takeshi is concerned I won't be able to patrol, making more work for him."

  Raphael has a way of looking at me that makes me feel very young and foolish. "You give him very little credit."

  He's not right about that. Takeshi is the most practical of soldiers, and I learn from him every day. He is cold-hearted and clear-eyed in a way I try—and often fail—to emulate. "I think I understand him very well."

  Raphael smiled, and as always, I had to look away. "Is there a reason you're pushing yourself to the brink of physical collapse?"

  "The Mazikin will grow their numbers soon. They always do."

  "Indeed. Thus far, they always do. But you do not always tear muscles and tendons to prepare for that eventuality." He looked down at my knee and calf, purple and swollen.

  "I've been having nightmares."

  "About Mazikin?"

  "About one Mazikin. His name is Juri."

  "Ah." Raphael nodded. "The one you fought outside the nest. The one who promised he would return."

  "He was different from the others."

  This time, his smile was rather ghostly. "Then it is good that you're preparing for his return. But perhaps, if you hope to win, you should not abuse and damage your best weapon?"

  I looked down at my body, which at that moment felt bent and broken. I didn't need to tell Raphael that he was right; I suspect he already knew. And without another word, he sank me into a black, mercifully dreamless sleep.

  Day 4698

  My body is a weapon. My mind is a weapon. I train every day, I patrol, I explore and build my map block by block. I practice what little I know of the Mazikin language, trying to replicate those awful sounds. At night, I dream of stalking them down dark alleyways and beneath dank bridges over trickling streams of brackish-smelling slime.

  And even with all that, I was not prepared for what happened today. I was patrolling alone, in Harag zone, near an area where someone has grown a cluster of towers and abandoned each halfway to the sky, leaving their tops drooping toward the ground. I had reached a spot between two of them when someone shouted "Guard!"

  I looked up in time to see a man throw a woman from a window several floors above me. She tumbled through the air, silent, her eyes wide, her mouth open. My arms rose from my sides. But as she hurtled toward me, I realized that if I tried to catch her, I would die with the attempt. So I watched helplessly as she shattered in front of me.

  "You can't save them," the man called from above. He was speaking German, a language I know very well. Even though I was several floors below him, I could still see his grin.

  I charged into the building, scimitar drawn. I knew, without a doubt, who the man must be. I searched the entire building and did not find him.

  But I will.

  Day 4713

  Juri's blood has stained my armor. Tomorrow morning I leave for the Station. I don't know if I am returning in triumph or defeat.

  It took days of watching, days of listening, and one brutal interrogation of a Mazikin I caught at the edge of Harag in a FOOD market. That one, who had possessed an elderly man who spoke Slovak, told me there is no nest nearby, but there is a small outpost, and Juri is indeed recruiting here. The old one was happy enough to give me this information in exchange for a quicker death, because I could not afford the time and struggle it would take to drag him to the tower, nor the risk that he would escape if I imprisoned him elsewhere.

  After that, I knew where to look. And as it turns out, Juri is wily, but not always patient. Too eager to fight, too bloodthirsty and impulsive for his own good. He must have chosen that woman in the tower for recruitment, but when he saw me on the street below, he could not help but call attention to himself. So I patrolled at night in the middle of the street near their outpost, my armor on and my weapons in plain sight.

  He could not help himself. He sprang from an alley, but I had already heard his footsteps. I caught his wrist in a noose-like binding and threw him to the ground. He bit at my leg, but his teeth had no chance of penetrating the leather greaves over my shins. A few seconds later I'd captured his other wrist. He was so enraged that his roar echoed up and down the block.

  I had him. But as I moved to secure his feet, he managed to grab a knife from one of my thigh sheaths. When I saw him slice his own throat, the anger rose up in me. I clamped my hand over his wound and began to fire questions at him. But he merely grinned with blood on his teeth.

  "Soon," he mouthed, for he could not make a sound, not with the deep gash and my own fingers closed tight over his windpipe. "See you again soon."

  I'm not sure whether he died from the blood loss… or strangulation.

  Day 4731

  "What is a Mazikin, really?" I asked Raphael when he came to heal a knife wound to my bicep, sustained during throwing practice with Takeshi. I'd made some smart remark, and he'd "missed."

  Raphael's gray eyes settled heavy on me, almost curious. "What do you think they are?"

  "They move like animals. They behave like animals. Like animals, they seem to be without conscience."

  He merely stared at me.

  "Where do they come from? Why are they so determined to come here, of all places?"

  He tilted his head. "Why do you think they want to come here?"

  I sighed. My arm had bled so much that I felt a little dizzy, so I closed my eyes. "No one would want to come here unless the place they were escaping was worse."

  He chuckled. "Sometimes I wonder why people bother to ask questions."

  He chose that moment to begin his work, and my thoughts went dark and silent.

  Day 5619

  Today I nearly died again. One would think a person might get used to the feeling, and might learn not to be afraid. But I am always afraid when the blade slashes close, when the teeth sink into my skin, when I crash to the ground.

  I've just learned to keep going in spite of it.

  But today, I was nearly killed by a group of my own Guards.

  Takeshi and I have been practicing the Mazikin language. He say it's a ridiculous waste of time, but he was still willing to come with me and hide in one of the ducts above one of their outposts. We listened for hours before attacking. We killed all but two, which have been imprisoned in our holding cells for the past seventy-three days.

  Tomorrow they go to the tower, but we have learned much from them. Earlier today we sat in the cell room and spoke to them. It tears at the throat, this coughing, growling, barking language, but they understood me. I could tell by the recognition in their eyes and their rage.

  Unfortunately, Rais and Bilal overheard us, and drew a very unfortunate conclusion: they thought Takeshi and I had somehow been possessed. They gathered a group of Guards and charged into the cell room, attacking with all their fearsome strength and hatred for the Mazikin.

  We managed to fight without killing them, but it was a near thing, and Takeshi suffered a deep slash across his back. We were shouting for them to stand down, but they didn't believe it was us. They had us cornered and on our knees when Raphael came in and managed to stop them from beheading us.

  The worst part about it was not the fear of dying, though. It was the sound of the two Mazikin laughing.

  Day 6379

  We've destroyed a nest. This one, located a few miles north of the entrance to the city, was unusual in that the Mazikin had located it on the upper floors of a building nearly forty stories high. In general, these structures are perfect nesting grounds for Mazikin, because the citizens grow and abandon them quickly, never satisfied no matter how monstrously huge or grand they are. Often, these buildings collapse or rot, only for others to grow in their place.

  Usually the Mazikin prefer lower floors and basements that offer easy escape, though. This time, however, they chose something different. And now I am sitting and looking out a shattered window of this structurally unstable building, and I am wondering if I know why.

  I can see the Suicide Gates from here. Distant, ye
s, but there is light there, more than at any other point along the wall. The new arrivals stream down the main thoroughfare before veering off to find the things that comfort them deep within the city. From here, they look like ants fleeing the hill.

  Were the Mazikin merely looking for an easy supply of candidates for possession—or were they contemplating escape from the city?

  Day 7168

  I wish, when Mazikin screamed, that they did not sound so terribly human. I have captured the creature known as Jof, one of the Mazikin scouts who sneaks through apartment buildings, collecting residents where they should be safest. I collared her two days ago and brought her to the Station.

  I’ve been hurting her. I know Juri is in the city. He hung one of our residents from a flagpole someone had grown, and he wrote his name on the sidewalk in the poor soul’s blood. I need Jof to tell me where he is.

  But she is stubborn. And when she screams, I feel it. I hate it. I want to dig it out of me. I don’t want to pity her. Takeshi seems unaffected after even the most brutal Mazikin interrogation, but I feel sick every time.

  It doesn’t mean I will relent. I am going in there now. She may ask for mercy, but she will not receive it.

  Day 7169

  "I have something to tell you," Jof whispered, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. "You will want to know."

  "Then tell me," I said, stabbing my knife into the wooden table in front of her. "I am listening."

  Her eyes followed a red drop as it slid down my blade and spread itself into the splintered grain of the wood. "You care about these people."

  "I have no need of your personal insights," I said. "I want information."

  "That's what this is. Don't you want to know what happens to these citizens when we take their bodies from them?"