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"Sisterhood of the All-Seeing Eye"
"Sisterhood of the All-seeing Eye"
6/24- 6/26/2009
I.
A few minutes before nine, Jeremy Bane walked into the lobby of the four-story building which housed his office. To his right was the door of EMERGENCY ONE, a walk-in clinic which handled minor medical problems. Today, a mother was escorting a little boy with a nosebleed through its door. The Dire Wolf glanced at the clinic as he went by. It was another reason he had chosen this building when looking to establish his practice. So far he had gone there twice with injuries received during a case and it was good to know it was right across the lobby if he or a client needed it. The other tenants in that building included a photography studio, a health spa that took up the whole top floor, two doctor's offices and a travel agency that was ready to relocate elsehere.
On the ground floor, at the end of a short hallway created by the staircase, was his Dire Wolf agency, whose staff consisted of one person, himself. Bane collected the mail from the bank of boxes for tenants by the front door and skimmed through it. Nothing interesting. As he approached his office door, he sensed someone looking at him and he turned as the round body of Lt Joseph Montez of Homicide East thundered into the lobby.
Bane perked up immediately. He turned to face the police officer who had come to appreciate how useful the Dire Wolf agency could be. He did not smile outwardly but he was nevertheless pleased and excited to see Joe Montez. It meant action. "Good morning, Lt."
"Hiya, Bane, listen, we got to talk." Montez was holding a huge Dunkin Donuts coffee and a napkin which had been wrapped around a donut a minute earlier. His weight varied, but he seemed to be getting it down at the moment.
The Dire Wolf said nothing, unlocking his office door and stepping aside to let the lieutenant pass. They went through the tiny waiting room, which had seldom been used, and Bane unlocked the door to the office itself. He thumbed a switch that turned on the overhead dome light and the standing lamp behind his desk. As Montez arranged a straightback wooden chair in front of that desk, Bane circled around and dropped into his swivel chair.
"Say, Bane, something's been bothering me about your operation here," Montez said. He drained the last drop of coffee and seemed surprised there wasn't any more in there. "I checked. You are licensed by the State and City of New York as a PI. Everything is in order. Yet every private investigator I ever knew was desperate for money. They wouldn't even listen to a client unless a fee was in the air."
"And?"
"As far as I can tell, you don't charge. When you do, it's a minimum amount from one thousand flat down to a single dollar. And you say that's so you can claim the person as your client and plead confidentiality. So, what's the deal?"
Bane glanced at the bundle of mail in his hand and tossed it on a tray to one side. "Well, lieutenant, you know about Kenneth Dred. When Mr Dred died, I found that he had left everything to me. I was his sole heir and even now, I still have enough in the bank to be comfortable. I can afford to take cases without charging." He was understating the situation; even after all he had spent establishing the KDF, Bane was enormously wealthy. He could easily have bought outright the building in which his office was located.
"Which leads to something screwy," Montez went on. As he lost weight, he approached being quite handsome, with thick black hair and regular features. "You don't need to do any of this. Someone like me tells you about a maniac or a monster loose and you charge out after it just on your own. What do you get out of it?"
"We've talked about this before. This is what I do, I'm not meant to sit around and watch TV or hang out in bars. I was born looking for trouble." He raised a hand before Montez could go on. "So, what brings you here today?"
Montez sat up. "First, I have to mention what we both know perfectly well. This is off the record. Officially, I never came here today and talked to you. The New York Police Department is definitely not giving you classified information that you are not cleared for."
"Got it. What's the deal?"
"Okay. Now that that's out of the way, there have been some really weird crimes in the past month. Weird and creepy. Three times, some rich guy woke up to find people pinning him down in his bed. Each time, something was pressed down over his face and - hold onto your hat- one of his eyes was sucked out of his head."
"Well, that's new. I haven't heard of that before." Bane's pale grey eyes were never warm, but now they gleamed more coldly than usual. It meant he was excited.
Montez went on, "The victims can't give a good description of the assailants, cause they were bundled up and masked. After they were attacked, naturally they went for medical aid. Doctors couldn't figure out how it was done. Blood vessels and nerves and whatever were sealed off as if cauterized. No explanation."
Bane had suddenly become alert and excited. He had a predatory look. "What else?"
"Look, none of this has been in the papers. Or the local stations. We'd like to keep it that way if we can."
"Got it. Any common factor between the victims? Did they know each other?"
"Not as far as I can see. But they started acting funny after the attacks. These were stingy greedy old misers, you know? They get tax breaks they really aren't entitled to, they hold every penny in a deathgrip. And yet, soon after the attacks, each of them started donating money to something called 'the Portal of Ultimate Peace.' I checked it out, it's a New Age nutbag group of rich society dames doing meditation or something. And the guys with one eye are writing them big checks for no apparent reason. They are donating to other groups, too, but mostly this one."
Bane stood up. He couldn't help it, the same enhanced metabolism that gave him his lightning reflexes also made him restless.
He started pacing and Montez was forced to twist around in his chair to watch him. "This is new," he repeated. "Very interesting. "
"One more strange thing," the lieutenant said. "The three guys... they seem to have their eyes growing back."
Bane froze in mid-step. "Oh, now I have to investigate. How is that happening?"
"Beats me. The FBI sent two agents from 21 Black to tell everyone to keep their mouths shut."
"I've dealt with 21 Black before," Bane muttered. "All they do is hush things up without solving anything. How fast are the eyes regenerating, lieutenant?"
"Not so fast. Doctors say it'll be a year or so before the new growth looks like an eye and even then, it may not work right. But it's certainly right up your alley." He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and drew out a sheet of typing paper. "Ah, seems like somebody wrote down names and addresses here. Convenient. I think this piece of paper oughta be destroyed, though."
Bane reached over and took the sheet. "It will be burned to nothing, lieutenant. No trail."
"You wouldn't have any coffee in this place, would you?"
"Eh? No. I don't drink it," Bane said. "But you have a point, I should keep coffee here for visitors."
Montez lurched up to his feet. "I need to get going. Looks like I'm going to be a few minutes late for the office, I musta overslept. You know how it is."
Bane walked over to see him out. "I will let you know how things work out. Unofficially, of course."
"Yep. Seeya."
After Montez left, Bane walked around his office for a few minutes, sat down and got up again. The front door to his office locked automatically and the curtains over the wide window were opaque. The Dire Wolf knelt beside the three-shelf bookcase, clicked a latch and swung the case over on hidden casters. Underneath it was a shallow pit he had chiselled out of the concrete himself, and in it he stored certain equipment. Hauling up a trunk, he set it down in the middle of the floor. Bane stripped down to shorts and socks, drew out a garment that looked like dark wet silk and tugged it on. This was Trom-metal armor, flexible and comfortable but good protection against blades and most firearms. On his forearms were already sheathed two silver daggers, hilts forward. Bane put on the black slacks and turtleneck again, then fastened a holster to the small of his back. From its own case, he drew out an air pistol with a large chamber and extended barrel. He checked its mechanism and slid in a clip of the anesthetic darts he had developed in KDF days. The black sports jacket concealed everything, and its pockets already contained what he usually carried on his person. Bane returned the trunk to the pit, slid the bookcase back in place and locked. When he left this office, he figured he would have to pay a huge fine for that unauthorized damage he had done to the floor.
Before leaving, he took ten minutes to memorize the names and addresses on the paper Montez had given him. He did not have a photographic memory, but long practice made sure he would remember all the details. Bane took the paper to the tiny bathroom, burned it and ran the ashes down the drain. Then it was time to leave.
Out on the street, Bane swung left and walked quickly down four blocks to the Imperial Garage. His dark green Subaru Outback was in its assigned spot, and the green security lights on the rearview mirror were blinking properly. Starting it up, he headed out into traffic and a long day of asking questions of reluctant people.
II.
At six o'clock that evening, he backed his car into its spot, locked it and stopped to say hello to the watchman by the ramp. It was starting to rain just a little. Bane walked past the building where his office was and kept going another few blocks to his apartment. Mrs Choi was not sitting by the window as usual, but he could smell the kimchi she was making. Too spicy for his tastes. The Dire Wolf walked up the worn steps to the second floor. This building was neither new nor luxurious, but it was close to his office, which was more important. At his door, he flipped open a wooden panel and entered the security code, then unlocked the door. Bane needed to think. He wished he had someone to discuss the situation with. He and Cindy had been partners for so long he was still at a loss sometimes. No wonder detectives in fiction had sidekicks.
Hanging up his jacket, he used the bathroom and came out to prepare dinner. Not much in the refrigerator to work with. He started boiling some rice and when it was almost ready, he scrambled two eggs and mixed it in. There was also a bag of frozen corn, he microwaved some of it and stirred the whole mess together. He poured a huge tumbler of apple juice and went to the leather couch to eat.
The day's activity had been just work. He liked fighting and sneaking around and chasing or being chased. But actual investigation was not his strong area. As he slowly ate in the dim apartment, Bane summarized what he had learned. Two of the victims had been middle-aged white men, rich through Wall Street transactions and the usual swindles. Schuyler Van Aken was fifty-seven and Carl Allenby was sixty-four. The third man was younger, only forty, and black. He had made his fortune in computer software and his name was Lonnie Hayes. Bane had gotten in to see them without appointments mostly through force of personality and confidence, but he did show his credentials when he had gotten in.
They had not given him much information. Two of the men wore a black eyepatch, the third had gauze bandages taped in place. None of them could describe the attackers, who had somehow gotten past extensive security. They did not know each other. When Bane mentioned the Portal to Ultimate Peace, each became agitated to the point of incoherence and he had left. The Dire Wolf finished eating and did the dishes, noticing a pear in a dish with two bananas and some tangerines and he ate the pear as well.
Bane was digging through his memory for anything like these bizarre crimes but came up blank. The way the eyes were stolen without leaving a bleeding traumatized mess showed some gralic sorcery was involved. The three victims had started donating to a few charities but the fact that all three gave large amounts to the same one- that Portal of Ultimate Peace business- was such an obvious clue that even he caught it.
Setting a mug of water in the microwave to boil, Bane opened a cannister from atop the refrigerator and crumbled some dry purplish leaves into it. After it cooled, he sipped it slowly, letting its effects soak into his system. This was tagra, the plant long extinct in the world and now only available at the Order of Tel Shai. It was tagra that gave Tel Shai knights their resistance to disease, their slow aging, their rapid healing. It was not miraculous. Knights would not survive a bullet to the heart or being run over by a train, but the diet did give them a huge edge over other opponents. Bane finished the tea and rinsed the cup. He was running low, but it was time to go back to Tel Shai and visit Cindy anyway.
Stripping down to shorts and socks, leaving the daggers strapped to his forearms, Bane stepped to the middle of the living room. Hands by his waist, he bowed low to Teacher Chael, farther away than miles could measure. Then he started his DohRa dance. This began as a slow series of poses and stances, then stretching, then sped up into combination moves. Within fifteen minutes, he was whirling through complicated blocks, punches and kicks. Even without martial arts training, the Dire Wolf was naturally faster than a normal Human. At the forty minute mark, the process reversed and he soon was cooling off in different postures. He concluded by bowing again to his Teacher at Tel Shai. Bane was covered with sweat but still breathing easily.
After a light meal, the tagra tea and doing his form, Bane was as calm and relaxed as he ever was. Going into the bathroom, he took a brief shower, toweled dry, then climbed naked into his bed and was asleep almost as soon as he got between the sheets.
III.
Before dawn, Bane snapped instantly awake and rolled out of bed. There was no yawning or smacking lips and scratching the head with him. With his wired metabolism, he seldom slept more than five hours in any case. Now he woke up and found his mind had been processing information while he slept and everything seemed clearer. He shaved and got dressed, found there was almost nothing in the refrigerator. Right after this case, he needed to stock. Digging around, he found the milk was still good and there was half a box of Shredded Wheat, so he devoured that with one of the bananas cut up on it.
It was too soon to go to the office. He would have to buzz and be let in by the security guard. Bane turned on the overhead light and both lamps on either end of the couch. Pulling up the coffee table close to the couch, he got all the mail together and started going through it. Toward the end, he went to a dresser by the door to the hall, got his checkbook and wrote out payments for a few bills. He had accounts in three seperate credit unions; one was for checking and paying bills, one was just for savings and usually left untouched. A third was in a different name and held a few thousand in case he was on the run and needed to lay low (as had happened a few times). Cleaning up the debris and putting stamps on the envelopes he needed to mail, Bane went to make a cup of tagra tea. Just enough for another day, he noted sourly.
It was only six-thirty, but he was restless and wanted to get going. Turning off the lights and locking the apartment, he dropped the envelopes off in a mailbox near the apartment building. Bane started north, walking briskly in no real direction. He wandered the still-dark streets, watching people getting coffee shops ready to open, taxis picking up people going to work, a street cleaning truck slowly making its way. Steam came up out of manholes. Bane bought two newspapers from a vendor, leaned up in a doorway and read them. By eight o'clock, he was back near 3rd Avenue and he approached 44th Street as the lobby of his office building was being unlocked. Bane entered his office, dropping the newspapers on top of the bookcase. He checked his messages but there was nothing.
Sitting down behind his desk, the Dire Wolf thought things over. The doorbell rang. He bolted up out of his chair, crossed the waiting room and checked the closed circuit camera out in the hall before letting in Lt Montez. Bane ushered him in. The fat man was unshaven and rumpled, with his tie loosened and his collar open.
"Up all night?" Bane asked.
"Might as well be. Got the call at one-thirty, another eyeball theft. This one has raised a commotion about it. He not only called 911, he has been telling everyone who'll listen about it. Department 21 Black won't be able to keep this guy under wraps!"
"Same as before?"
"Exactly the same. Victims is George Leiber, investment broker, about as loaded as you might expect. Now he has a hole where his right eye used to be."
Bane put his elbows on the desk, leaning forward. "Lieutenant, I'm looking into this. So far, all I have is a hunch but I'm working on it."
As he got stiffly up, Montez said, "I appreciate it. Say, Mr Dire Wolf, you seriously ought to put a coffeemaker in here. Be seeing you." He let himself out.
After the lieutenant was gone, Bane went to the closet in the wall to the left of his desk. There wasn't much in there. A spare outfit of the usual black turtleneck and slacks he invariably wore. A heavy down-filled winter coat. A pair of old sneakers. In a garment bag, a suit was hanging and he brought it out. Bane removed his clothes, although he had kept the Trom armor on. He put on a dark blue suit with faint white chalk stripes, a light blue dress shirt and a black tie. This suit was expensive, tailored for him two years earlier but only worn once. Bane had trouble with the tie. When was the last time he had been forced to fool with one of them? he grumbled but he managed to get it knotted correctly. Most of the items from his daily outfit transferred to pockets in the dress suit but the holster for the dart gun was too big... it made a bulge. He decided to leave it behind for now.
A few minutes after nine, the Dire Wolf left his office, the door locking behind him, and headed across the lobby, He caught sight of himself in one of the windows and he certainly looked different out of his usual uniform. Bane got his car from the garage and headed north, leaving the city and heading into Westchester. As he got to White Plains, he stopped to get his bearings. This was out of his normal territory. He passed a stone pillar that read 1156 WEBB PLAZA. Making a U-turn in a driveway, he went back and pulled in. A signboard listed some businesses and among them was THE PORTAL TO ULTIMATE PEACE. Bane parked his car, noticing the lot had maybe a dozen vehicles in it, all new and presentable. He found the door he was looking for and knocked sharply.
After a few seconds, the door barely opened and a redheaded woman peered out. "Yes, may I help you?"
"I'm here to make a donation," Bane said. This was why he had put on the tailored suit and shaved closely. In addition to being well-dressed, he had the self-assured air of someone used to having doors open for him and, sure enough, he was let in.
The woman was about thirty, tall and thin, with dark reddish hair and green eyes. She was wearing a loose white robe with a high collar and bell sleeves. "I don't believe you have an appointment, Mr...?"
"Wright, Thaddeus Wright. No. My friend Carl Allenby told me what fine work you do and he urged me to make a contribution. I find his judgement is sound."
"I see. Just a moment, please." She went through a swinging door and left him standing in a dimly-lit hall, rather warm, with soft tranquilizing music playing. On one wall in dark blue script was written THE PORTAL TO ULTIMATE PEACE. On another wall was a printed schedule in a frame. Bane went over to look. It listed various classes such as "Inner Cleansing," "Balance and Integration" and "Fire and Rain." He raised an eyebrow.
"Mr Wright, would you come with me?"
Bane followed her down a long corridor into what seemed to be an exercise area, with hard mats on the floor and a waist-high stretching bar along one wall. Five women were waiting, all looking very similar in size and build, with different shades of red hair. They all wore the white gowns, belted at the waist. And strangely, they each wore thin white cotton gloves. The oldest woman there, maybe sixty but still quite handsome in a regal way, motioned for him to come forward.
"I am Duvina," she announced. "What do you know of our work here, young man?"
Bane liked that. He was in his fifties himself, but with only two or three grey hairs and he did look young. "Just what my friend told me. He said you offer classes to help with finding balance and inner cleansing."
"You do know our school is for women only?"
"I have no problem with that." Bane added, "Right now, I would like to discuss a sizeable donation, tax deductible I believe. And I know several young ladies who would be interesting in taking some classes."
"I see," Duvina answered ambiguously. She began tugging off the glove on her right hand, and as she did this, the four younger women stepped closer to Bane. "I have reason to doubt your word. We of Myrrwha are no strangers to the Midnight War, nor are we ignorant of the knights of Tel Shai. And who in our realms does not know the grey eyes of the Dire Wolf?"
Duvina removed the glove and raised her open hand. With a shudder, Bane saw a human eye imbedded in her palm, and the eye moved to glare at him. It was alive. Lurid red light swirled around that hand and the imbedded eye glowed. Bane felt life being sucked out of him. He swayed and stepped back, head swimming. Two women in white gowns seized his arms and the other two knelt to yank his legs out from under him. In another instant, he would recover and break loose, but he did not have that second. Duvina bent over him and slapped her other hand over his face. Bane screamed at sudden unexpected agony, worse than any torture he had so far survived. The women held him down, laughing and taunting him.
Duvina rose. Bane could only see out of one eye and he suddenly knew what had happened. The pain was incredible, it felt as if boiling water had been poured on his face. With a convulsive surge, he broke loose, rolled and got to his feet. He touched his face and, in the most shocking moment of his life, felt an empty socket where his right eye had been.
III.
The pain eased up, and the horror gave way to a cold savage anger. Duvina must have seen the fury in his face, because she held up her right hand and again, the red gralic force drew his strength into that unnatural eye. Bane felt vitality wash out of his body, but it did not stop him. He clenched fists that could break rock and took a step forward.
"Halt!" Duvina shouted in a commanding voice. "We own part of you now. You will be in our service by the next dawn. You lied and tried to deceive us with a promise of donating money to our case. But now that shall come to pass. Every coin you own shall be given to us. You will be our slave and die in our service."
"In. Your. Dreams," Bane growled. Despite the weakness he felt, he started advancing again with murder in his heart. Two of the Myrrwhan women tried to grab his arms but received short straight punches to the middle of their chests that dropped them to the floor. "I have something to say to you," Bane told Duvina.
The older woman raised her left hand. In its palm, another human eye raised its lid and stared out with a pale grey iris. It was Bane's own eye. He drew back a fist for a killing blow, and another of the women leaped upon him, only to catch a backhand that sent her against the wall with a thump.
Now both unholy eyes crackled with dark crimson energy, and Bane fell to his knees as the lifeforce was drawn from him. Duvina chuckled, "The Sisterhood of the All-Seeing Eye can not be defied, you fool. The eyes can take in gralic energy or heat or lifeforce, whatever we will. But you shall not die. The spell will take hold today and tonight. By the next dawn, you will do whatever we command."
Summoning all his concentration, dropping the fierce urge to kill the sorceress who had mutilated him, Bane swung around and lurched for the door. With each step, he grew stronger and by the time he was in the hall, he was almost normal. He heard Duvina's cackling. His head felt foggy and he knew he needed time to think, to figure out a counter-attack. Bane made it to his car, fell into the driver's seat and spun the car around to roar out onto the road without looking for traffic. He did not know what direction he was going in. After a few miles, he pulled into a service station and tried to collect his thoughts.
Looking up into the rearview mirror, he saw his right eyelid was closed. What was the use of going to a hospital? They hadn't been able to help the other victims. Reaching behind him, Bane got the first aid kit from where it hung behind the passenger seat. He taped a gauze pad over his empty socket. All right, he thought, calm down. Now is the time to plan your counter-attack and make that witch pay. He turned south and sped back toward Manhattan.
By the time he parked his car back on 40th Street, Bane had gotten a grip. From the trunk, he found a pair of oversized sunglasses and he put them on. He was adjusting to not having depth perception but it was harder than he had expected. Back at 44th Street, he entered the lobby of his building and a woman stood up from the bench where she had been sitting as he approached.
"Karina?"
"Hello, Jeremy. It's been a while."
Yeah, thought Bane, twelve years could be called "a while." Karina still looked 19, the age Barbara Hoyt had been when the immortal spirit had possessed her willing body. Maybe she would not age for decades yet. Karine was tall, about five feet eight and slim. She had gorgeous auburn hair and deep green eyes in a thoughtful face with a wide jawline. Today, she wore a one-piece white jumpsuit with ribbed sleeves and a white belt, black canvas sneakers on her feet.
As soon as he saw her, Bane realized why she was waiting for him. The witch Duvina had mentioned the cultists were Myrrwhan and Karina was the warrior-goddess of the realm Myrrwha. He said, "I take it you know about your countrywomen and what they are up to?"
"Yes, I- oh. Jeremy, they caught you. Duvina has your eye!"
"You're telling me. Come in and we'll talk." He unlocked the office door and led her in. She did not go to one of the wooden chairs but dropped down on the leather couch and Bane wearily sat down next to her.
Karina had never been a KDF member, although she had gone with them on several adventures, and she had not petitioned to become a knight of Tel Shai either. She had gone her own way. Her story went back to the Darthan Age thirty thousand years ago, when a human adventurer had been on Ulgor during the Corruption. The first Karina had learned some forbidden arts from the Sulla Chun herself. She could project her spirit into a willing host, living on age after age. And she know the secret of muscular tension which was the basis of Kumundu. Karina had developed a fighting style all her own, refined over the millenia.
After working with Bane's team a few times, the Myrrwhan goddess had wandered off into the adjacent realms. Once in a while, he heard that she had been seen in Okali or Androval, but they had not met in a dozen years.
"If I had come here a day earlier," she said, placing her hand on his arm. "We would have challenged them together and you would be spared this. But I did not know they had entered the real world."
"Tell me about this Sisterhood of the All-Knowing Eye."
"All-Seeing Eye," she corrected. "They are not an ancient cult, only going back maybe a generation. It is a dark magick they use, forbidden magick. The leader is a witch named Duvina. I know not where she studied. Some accuse her of learning Darthan lore, it may be so. You have experienced yourself how they steal an eye right from a victim's head and place it within the palm of one of their members. Mind control is involved. They get mastery of the victim's will, growing more complete over time. In Myrrwha, they have gathered perhaps a hundred slaves. But I believe that Duvina wants to try to expand her cult into the real world, where Humans do not know of the occult."
Bane broke in. "Wait, she said by dawn tomorrow I will be her slave. Is that true?"
"I am afraid so, Jeremy. I know no way to prevent that."
Getting up, the Wolf threw off his suit jacket and dress shirt. "That's why she let me escape. So I would fall under her spell and return. She didn't want me staying there and putting up a fight." He swung the bookcase around to reveal the pit and yanked the trunk up again. As Karina watched, Bane got out of his normal clothes and pulled on the full field suit... pants and snug jacket of a tough, leatherlike material, with numerous pouches and pockets holding weapons and tools. The jacket had a protective Eldaran talisman in its collar. He lifted the helmet and placed it on his desk, then returned the trunk to its hiding place. He was not embarassed to change in front of Karina or worried about her knowing the secret pit where his weapons were stored. They were comrades who had saved each other's lives many times.
Watching him, Karina had a delighted smile. This was her captain, the one Human man she would follow to the shores of Fanedral itself. "So. You plan to attack them before they can control you."
"Absolutely. I don't have to ask you if you want to come with me."
"No, you do not," she laughed. Karina stood up, graceful as a cat, dangerous as a panther. Bane looked at her with his one remaining eye. "It's good to see you again, Karina. When this is over, we need to have a night of talking. You know most of the original KDF died in Necropolis?"
"Yes. I am sorry. And I have heard you have a new team of young knights."
"Well, not all that young by now. Come on, let's get my car and head for the showdown. We can fill each other in on the way."
IV.
On the ride north to White Plains, Bane and Karina got caught up. It seemed that Myrrwha had been through some cultural upheaval. For ages, it had been a matriarchy with as close to an all-female culture as possible. Originally, men had been abducted every few years, used to impregnate as many Myrrwhans as were interested, and then executed. Male children were killed at birth. Over the ages, this became less practical as other realms developed better defenses and increasingly resisted Myrrwhan intrusions. Now, for the last century or so, the practice had been to lure volunteers to spend a few weeks getting Myrrhwans pregnant and then returning the men to their own realms. There were not as many men from Androval or Bruenig or Danarak eager to perform this service as there once were. True, the women of Myrrwha were attractive, but their disdain for men and their disinterest in the necessary mating left the men uninspired. For the past hundred years, the Myrrwhan population had been declining and now seemed dangerously low, enough to make the Queen and her court worry.
Bane knew this and kept from making any comments. It seemed like a stupid set-up to him, but then he didn't approve of the way Chyl or Veganora ran their societies, either, and in fact he wasn't wild about many countries in the real world. Hell, he didn't even care for the way New York City was run and he lived there.
"I am the guardian of Myrrrhwa, but I am not really like most of them," Karina said as they drove along. "I have seen too much of the other realms and of the real world." She shifted uncomfortably. "I suppose it's like the farmer who goes to the big city."
Driving quickly but trying not to get pulled over, Bane asked, "Maybe it has something to do with that college girl who originally was your body?"
"There is not much left of Barbara," she said sadly. "I think she is sleeping deep down. When this body is killed, her spirit will be released to whatever fate Humans face. And I will go on."
"Cindy really wanted you to join our team. She understood when you turned membership down but she wanted you around."
Karina turned those large green eyes on Bane. "Perhaps she only wanted another woman around. She was surrounded by men all the time."
"Could be. Let me ask you about something. The doctors said the other victims showed signs of the eye growing back."
"Oh yes. The spell leaves the essence behind, and in time it restores the eye. Usually within a year or so, but you-" and here she smiled at the Wolf, "with your tagra diet? I expect your eye to return in a few weeks. See, you have very few scars, despite all the wounds you suffered?"
"I suppose," he said. "I would be just a mass of scar tissue by now, otherwise." He signaled and turned into the professional park where the Portal To Ultimate Peace was located. It was getting dark, and the lights were on in the building but only three cars remained in the lot.
Karina sat up, suddenly alert and wary. "Yes! I can feel them. They will regret bringing forbidden arts to the world. Our law is clear." She unbuckled her seat belt as Bane parked the car. "I ask you a favor, captain. Remain out here, watching that side door. I am sure Duvina will try to escape while I slay her followers. If she gets away, she will just start this over somewhere else."
"Stay out here?" Bane asked with obvious reluctance, getting out of the car.
Karina came around and put a restraining hand on his arm. "Duvina is the one you must intercept," she whispered. "She is the one who wronged you."
"All right, I guess." In the gloom, Bane put on his helmet but left the visor up. "I trust you."
With that, the warrior goddess of ancient Myrrwha spun on her heel and raced toward the door. She ignored the bell. As she approached, she drew back one arm and slammed her open palm forward, snapping the lock and slamming the door inward so hard it came off one hinge. It was not raw strength that did this, but skill. Karina knew how to plant herself and bring motion up from her feet, through her torso and out through her arm. She focussed all the strength of her entire body into each blow.
Standing by his car where he could watch the side door, Bane listened. There was shouting and a scream, then the whiplash cracking noises of Karina in action. He remembered the way she fought. As he watched, the limp body of one of the Sisterhood of the All-Seeing Eye flew through the open door and skidded on its face across the parking lot, not getting up. A second later, another woman in the white robes ran through, then spun around and waited as Karina followed. The cult member held two short swords, one in either hand, and she swung them in a figure 8 motion. Karina stalked in, open hands raised. The cultist screamed and lunged, swinging the short swords left and right. Bane watched as Karina deflected them with her bare hands.
He always enjoyed seeing her do that. She was not invulnerable, she could be stabbed or shot if taken off-guard. But when she focused her mind on part of her body, she could make it dense enough that blades or bullets would not penetrate her skin. Now, Karina slapped one of the swords aside and snapped out one foot to kick the cult member's knee. The witch fell and as she dropped, Karina struck an open hand blow to the back of the woman's neck that sounded like an axe biting into wood. She rose and spun on her heel to hurtle back into the building.
That's our Karina, Bane thought as he heard a doorknob turn. Instantly, he stepped away from his car and moved toward the building as a side door opened. Wrapped in a dark topcoat, Duvina stepped through and started to run toward one of the cars when she spotted Bane. "You!"
The Dire Wolf stood in her way, arms folded across his chest, hands near the hilts of his daggers in their forearm sheaths. Those who had seen him in similar desperate situations knew what that pose meant.
The Myrrwhan witch spat on the asphalt, "So! It was you who brought the cursed one here. Wait. I have an idea." She started to raise her open hands, the unholy eye in each palm opening. "You shall fight her. Whoever dies in your duel, I will laugh-"
That was as far as she got. As she raised her hands to exert her mind control, Bane whipped his arms open and silver glittered in the dusk. First in the right hand and then the left, a silver-bladed dagger punched home so hard her arms were flung back and she fell over backwards with a scream.
Bane slowly approached her as she struggled in an attempt to rise. She could not use either hand; the dagger points stuck out the back of her hand three inches. Duvina got to her knees but could not rise further.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Bane asked coldly. "You think it hurts worse than what you put your victims through?"
"I will kill you!" she shrieked. "I will laugh over your grave, mortal Man!"
"You can try," he said. The Dire Wolf stepped up, put one boot on her chest and pushed her over backwards. Pinning down her left arm with his foot, he tugged his dagger free of the gory mess in her hand, then repeated it with the other hand. Not enough remained on those hands to be identified as eyes.
Karina strode around the corner. "Been practicing that throw?"
"It's my trade," Bane answered. He held the soiled daggers in each hand. "She's bleeding pretty good."
"She will live long enough to stand trial. Our Queen will judge her, and I daresay the axe will swing in our courtyard." Karina had ripped off a sleeve of one of the cult member's gown and she handed it to Bane, who used it to clean his knives. "I will take her and her followers back to Myrrwha now. But I will return here soon. We have much to discuss, old friend. I wish to meet these new Tel Shai knights of yours."
"I'd like that," Bane said. "A lot has happened since you were last here."
Karina had strode over and ripped off another sleeve of the dead cultist, returning to bind up the wounded hands of Duvina. "Be still, you!" she told the moaning woman. "You had no sympathy for those you wronged." Standing up, Karina slapped her hands together in a dusting motion. "I hope you are not worried about your eye, Jeremy. With your tagra, it will certainly grow back quickly. And maybe you can wear an eyepatch in the meantime." She grinned at her comrade. "Many women of your world love a pirate!"
4/4/2013
6/24- 6/26/2009
I.
A few minutes before nine, Jeremy Bane walked into the lobby of the four-story building which housed his office. To his right was the door of EMERGENCY ONE, a walk-in clinic which handled minor medical problems. Today, a mother was escorting a little boy with a nosebleed through its door. The Dire Wolf glanced at the clinic as he went by. It was another reason he had chosen this building when looking to establish his practice. So far he had gone there twice with injuries received during a case and it was good to know it was right across the lobby if he or a client needed it. The other tenants in that building included a photography studio, a health spa that took up the whole top floor, two doctor's offices and a travel agency that was ready to relocate elsehere.
On the ground floor, at the end of a short hallway created by the staircase, was his Dire Wolf agency, whose staff consisted of one person, himself. Bane collected the mail from the bank of boxes for tenants by the front door and skimmed through it. Nothing interesting. As he approached his office door, he sensed someone looking at him and he turned as the round body of Lt Joseph Montez of Homicide East thundered into the lobby.
Bane perked up immediately. He turned to face the police officer who had come to appreciate how useful the Dire Wolf agency could be. He did not smile outwardly but he was nevertheless pleased and excited to see Joe Montez. It meant action. "Good morning, Lt."
"Hiya, Bane, listen, we got to talk." Montez was holding a huge Dunkin Donuts coffee and a napkin which had been wrapped around a donut a minute earlier. His weight varied, but he seemed to be getting it down at the moment.
The Dire Wolf said nothing, unlocking his office door and stepping aside to let the lieutenant pass. They went through the tiny waiting room, which had seldom been used, and Bane unlocked the door to the office itself. He thumbed a switch that turned on the overhead dome light and the standing lamp behind his desk. As Montez arranged a straightback wooden chair in front of that desk, Bane circled around and dropped into his swivel chair.
"Say, Bane, something's been bothering me about your operation here," Montez said. He drained the last drop of coffee and seemed surprised there wasn't any more in there. "I checked. You are licensed by the State and City of New York as a PI. Everything is in order. Yet every private investigator I ever knew was desperate for money. They wouldn't even listen to a client unless a fee was in the air."
"And?"
"As far as I can tell, you don't charge. When you do, it's a minimum amount from one thousand flat down to a single dollar. And you say that's so you can claim the person as your client and plead confidentiality. So, what's the deal?"
Bane glanced at the bundle of mail in his hand and tossed it on a tray to one side. "Well, lieutenant, you know about Kenneth Dred. When Mr Dred died, I found that he had left everything to me. I was his sole heir and even now, I still have enough in the bank to be comfortable. I can afford to take cases without charging." He was understating the situation; even after all he had spent establishing the KDF, Bane was enormously wealthy. He could easily have bought outright the building in which his office was located.
"Which leads to something screwy," Montez went on. As he lost weight, he approached being quite handsome, with thick black hair and regular features. "You don't need to do any of this. Someone like me tells you about a maniac or a monster loose and you charge out after it just on your own. What do you get out of it?"
"We've talked about this before. This is what I do, I'm not meant to sit around and watch TV or hang out in bars. I was born looking for trouble." He raised a hand before Montez could go on. "So, what brings you here today?"
Montez sat up. "First, I have to mention what we both know perfectly well. This is off the record. Officially, I never came here today and talked to you. The New York Police Department is definitely not giving you classified information that you are not cleared for."
"Got it. What's the deal?"
"Okay. Now that that's out of the way, there have been some really weird crimes in the past month. Weird and creepy. Three times, some rich guy woke up to find people pinning him down in his bed. Each time, something was pressed down over his face and - hold onto your hat- one of his eyes was sucked out of his head."
"Well, that's new. I haven't heard of that before." Bane's pale grey eyes were never warm, but now they gleamed more coldly than usual. It meant he was excited.
Montez went on, "The victims can't give a good description of the assailants, cause they were bundled up and masked. After they were attacked, naturally they went for medical aid. Doctors couldn't figure out how it was done. Blood vessels and nerves and whatever were sealed off as if cauterized. No explanation."
Bane had suddenly become alert and excited. He had a predatory look. "What else?"
"Look, none of this has been in the papers. Or the local stations. We'd like to keep it that way if we can."
"Got it. Any common factor between the victims? Did they know each other?"
"Not as far as I can see. But they started acting funny after the attacks. These were stingy greedy old misers, you know? They get tax breaks they really aren't entitled to, they hold every penny in a deathgrip. And yet, soon after the attacks, each of them started donating money to something called 'the Portal of Ultimate Peace.' I checked it out, it's a New Age nutbag group of rich society dames doing meditation or something. And the guys with one eye are writing them big checks for no apparent reason. They are donating to other groups, too, but mostly this one."
Bane stood up. He couldn't help it, the same enhanced metabolism that gave him his lightning reflexes also made him restless.
He started pacing and Montez was forced to twist around in his chair to watch him. "This is new," he repeated. "Very interesting. "
"One more strange thing," the lieutenant said. "The three guys... they seem to have their eyes growing back."
Bane froze in mid-step. "Oh, now I have to investigate. How is that happening?"
"Beats me. The FBI sent two agents from 21 Black to tell everyone to keep their mouths shut."
"I've dealt with 21 Black before," Bane muttered. "All they do is hush things up without solving anything. How fast are the eyes regenerating, lieutenant?"
"Not so fast. Doctors say it'll be a year or so before the new growth looks like an eye and even then, it may not work right. But it's certainly right up your alley." He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and drew out a sheet of typing paper. "Ah, seems like somebody wrote down names and addresses here. Convenient. I think this piece of paper oughta be destroyed, though."
Bane reached over and took the sheet. "It will be burned to nothing, lieutenant. No trail."
"You wouldn't have any coffee in this place, would you?"
"Eh? No. I don't drink it," Bane said. "But you have a point, I should keep coffee here for visitors."
Montez lurched up to his feet. "I need to get going. Looks like I'm going to be a few minutes late for the office, I musta overslept. You know how it is."
Bane walked over to see him out. "I will let you know how things work out. Unofficially, of course."
"Yep. Seeya."
After Montez left, Bane walked around his office for a few minutes, sat down and got up again. The front door to his office locked automatically and the curtains over the wide window were opaque. The Dire Wolf knelt beside the three-shelf bookcase, clicked a latch and swung the case over on hidden casters. Underneath it was a shallow pit he had chiselled out of the concrete himself, and in it he stored certain equipment. Hauling up a trunk, he set it down in the middle of the floor. Bane stripped down to shorts and socks, drew out a garment that looked like dark wet silk and tugged it on. This was Trom-metal armor, flexible and comfortable but good protection against blades and most firearms. On his forearms were already sheathed two silver daggers, hilts forward. Bane put on the black slacks and turtleneck again, then fastened a holster to the small of his back. From its own case, he drew out an air pistol with a large chamber and extended barrel. He checked its mechanism and slid in a clip of the anesthetic darts he had developed in KDF days. The black sports jacket concealed everything, and its pockets already contained what he usually carried on his person. Bane returned the trunk to the pit, slid the bookcase back in place and locked. When he left this office, he figured he would have to pay a huge fine for that unauthorized damage he had done to the floor.
Before leaving, he took ten minutes to memorize the names and addresses on the paper Montez had given him. He did not have a photographic memory, but long practice made sure he would remember all the details. Bane took the paper to the tiny bathroom, burned it and ran the ashes down the drain. Then it was time to leave.
Out on the street, Bane swung left and walked quickly down four blocks to the Imperial Garage. His dark green Subaru Outback was in its assigned spot, and the green security lights on the rearview mirror were blinking properly. Starting it up, he headed out into traffic and a long day of asking questions of reluctant people.
II.
At six o'clock that evening, he backed his car into its spot, locked it and stopped to say hello to the watchman by the ramp. It was starting to rain just a little. Bane walked past the building where his office was and kept going another few blocks to his apartment. Mrs Choi was not sitting by the window as usual, but he could smell the kimchi she was making. Too spicy for his tastes. The Dire Wolf walked up the worn steps to the second floor. This building was neither new nor luxurious, but it was close to his office, which was more important. At his door, he flipped open a wooden panel and entered the security code, then unlocked the door. Bane needed to think. He wished he had someone to discuss the situation with. He and Cindy had been partners for so long he was still at a loss sometimes. No wonder detectives in fiction had sidekicks.
Hanging up his jacket, he used the bathroom and came out to prepare dinner. Not much in the refrigerator to work with. He started boiling some rice and when it was almost ready, he scrambled two eggs and mixed it in. There was also a bag of frozen corn, he microwaved some of it and stirred the whole mess together. He poured a huge tumbler of apple juice and went to the leather couch to eat.
The day's activity had been just work. He liked fighting and sneaking around and chasing or being chased. But actual investigation was not his strong area. As he slowly ate in the dim apartment, Bane summarized what he had learned. Two of the victims had been middle-aged white men, rich through Wall Street transactions and the usual swindles. Schuyler Van Aken was fifty-seven and Carl Allenby was sixty-four. The third man was younger, only forty, and black. He had made his fortune in computer software and his name was Lonnie Hayes. Bane had gotten in to see them without appointments mostly through force of personality and confidence, but he did show his credentials when he had gotten in.
They had not given him much information. Two of the men wore a black eyepatch, the third had gauze bandages taped in place. None of them could describe the attackers, who had somehow gotten past extensive security. They did not know each other. When Bane mentioned the Portal to Ultimate Peace, each became agitated to the point of incoherence and he had left. The Dire Wolf finished eating and did the dishes, noticing a pear in a dish with two bananas and some tangerines and he ate the pear as well.
Bane was digging through his memory for anything like these bizarre crimes but came up blank. The way the eyes were stolen without leaving a bleeding traumatized mess showed some gralic sorcery was involved. The three victims had started donating to a few charities but the fact that all three gave large amounts to the same one- that Portal of Ultimate Peace business- was such an obvious clue that even he caught it.
Setting a mug of water in the microwave to boil, Bane opened a cannister from atop the refrigerator and crumbled some dry purplish leaves into it. After it cooled, he sipped it slowly, letting its effects soak into his system. This was tagra, the plant long extinct in the world and now only available at the Order of Tel Shai. It was tagra that gave Tel Shai knights their resistance to disease, their slow aging, their rapid healing. It was not miraculous. Knights would not survive a bullet to the heart or being run over by a train, but the diet did give them a huge edge over other opponents. Bane finished the tea and rinsed the cup. He was running low, but it was time to go back to Tel Shai and visit Cindy anyway.
Stripping down to shorts and socks, leaving the daggers strapped to his forearms, Bane stepped to the middle of the living room. Hands by his waist, he bowed low to Teacher Chael, farther away than miles could measure. Then he started his DohRa dance. This began as a slow series of poses and stances, then stretching, then sped up into combination moves. Within fifteen minutes, he was whirling through complicated blocks, punches and kicks. Even without martial arts training, the Dire Wolf was naturally faster than a normal Human. At the forty minute mark, the process reversed and he soon was cooling off in different postures. He concluded by bowing again to his Teacher at Tel Shai. Bane was covered with sweat but still breathing easily.
After a light meal, the tagra tea and doing his form, Bane was as calm and relaxed as he ever was. Going into the bathroom, he took a brief shower, toweled dry, then climbed naked into his bed and was asleep almost as soon as he got between the sheets.
III.
Before dawn, Bane snapped instantly awake and rolled out of bed. There was no yawning or smacking lips and scratching the head with him. With his wired metabolism, he seldom slept more than five hours in any case. Now he woke up and found his mind had been processing information while he slept and everything seemed clearer. He shaved and got dressed, found there was almost nothing in the refrigerator. Right after this case, he needed to stock. Digging around, he found the milk was still good and there was half a box of Shredded Wheat, so he devoured that with one of the bananas cut up on it.
It was too soon to go to the office. He would have to buzz and be let in by the security guard. Bane turned on the overhead light and both lamps on either end of the couch. Pulling up the coffee table close to the couch, he got all the mail together and started going through it. Toward the end, he went to a dresser by the door to the hall, got his checkbook and wrote out payments for a few bills. He had accounts in three seperate credit unions; one was for checking and paying bills, one was just for savings and usually left untouched. A third was in a different name and held a few thousand in case he was on the run and needed to lay low (as had happened a few times). Cleaning up the debris and putting stamps on the envelopes he needed to mail, Bane went to make a cup of tagra tea. Just enough for another day, he noted sourly.
It was only six-thirty, but he was restless and wanted to get going. Turning off the lights and locking the apartment, he dropped the envelopes off in a mailbox near the apartment building. Bane started north, walking briskly in no real direction. He wandered the still-dark streets, watching people getting coffee shops ready to open, taxis picking up people going to work, a street cleaning truck slowly making its way. Steam came up out of manholes. Bane bought two newspapers from a vendor, leaned up in a doorway and read them. By eight o'clock, he was back near 3rd Avenue and he approached 44th Street as the lobby of his office building was being unlocked. Bane entered his office, dropping the newspapers on top of the bookcase. He checked his messages but there was nothing.
Sitting down behind his desk, the Dire Wolf thought things over. The doorbell rang. He bolted up out of his chair, crossed the waiting room and checked the closed circuit camera out in the hall before letting in Lt Montez. Bane ushered him in. The fat man was unshaven and rumpled, with his tie loosened and his collar open.
"Up all night?" Bane asked.
"Might as well be. Got the call at one-thirty, another eyeball theft. This one has raised a commotion about it. He not only called 911, he has been telling everyone who'll listen about it. Department 21 Black won't be able to keep this guy under wraps!"
"Same as before?"
"Exactly the same. Victims is George Leiber, investment broker, about as loaded as you might expect. Now he has a hole where his right eye used to be."
Bane put his elbows on the desk, leaning forward. "Lieutenant, I'm looking into this. So far, all I have is a hunch but I'm working on it."
As he got stiffly up, Montez said, "I appreciate it. Say, Mr Dire Wolf, you seriously ought to put a coffeemaker in here. Be seeing you." He let himself out.
After the lieutenant was gone, Bane went to the closet in the wall to the left of his desk. There wasn't much in there. A spare outfit of the usual black turtleneck and slacks he invariably wore. A heavy down-filled winter coat. A pair of old sneakers. In a garment bag, a suit was hanging and he brought it out. Bane removed his clothes, although he had kept the Trom armor on. He put on a dark blue suit with faint white chalk stripes, a light blue dress shirt and a black tie. This suit was expensive, tailored for him two years earlier but only worn once. Bane had trouble with the tie. When was the last time he had been forced to fool with one of them? he grumbled but he managed to get it knotted correctly. Most of the items from his daily outfit transferred to pockets in the dress suit but the holster for the dart gun was too big... it made a bulge. He decided to leave it behind for now.
A few minutes after nine, the Dire Wolf left his office, the door locking behind him, and headed across the lobby, He caught sight of himself in one of the windows and he certainly looked different out of his usual uniform. Bane got his car from the garage and headed north, leaving the city and heading into Westchester. As he got to White Plains, he stopped to get his bearings. This was out of his normal territory. He passed a stone pillar that read 1156 WEBB PLAZA. Making a U-turn in a driveway, he went back and pulled in. A signboard listed some businesses and among them was THE PORTAL TO ULTIMATE PEACE. Bane parked his car, noticing the lot had maybe a dozen vehicles in it, all new and presentable. He found the door he was looking for and knocked sharply.
After a few seconds, the door barely opened and a redheaded woman peered out. "Yes, may I help you?"
"I'm here to make a donation," Bane said. This was why he had put on the tailored suit and shaved closely. In addition to being well-dressed, he had the self-assured air of someone used to having doors open for him and, sure enough, he was let in.
The woman was about thirty, tall and thin, with dark reddish hair and green eyes. She was wearing a loose white robe with a high collar and bell sleeves. "I don't believe you have an appointment, Mr...?"
"Wright, Thaddeus Wright. No. My friend Carl Allenby told me what fine work you do and he urged me to make a contribution. I find his judgement is sound."
"I see. Just a moment, please." She went through a swinging door and left him standing in a dimly-lit hall, rather warm, with soft tranquilizing music playing. On one wall in dark blue script was written THE PORTAL TO ULTIMATE PEACE. On another wall was a printed schedule in a frame. Bane went over to look. It listed various classes such as "Inner Cleansing," "Balance and Integration" and "Fire and Rain." He raised an eyebrow.
"Mr Wright, would you come with me?"
Bane followed her down a long corridor into what seemed to be an exercise area, with hard mats on the floor and a waist-high stretching bar along one wall. Five women were waiting, all looking very similar in size and build, with different shades of red hair. They all wore the white gowns, belted at the waist. And strangely, they each wore thin white cotton gloves. The oldest woman there, maybe sixty but still quite handsome in a regal way, motioned for him to come forward.
"I am Duvina," she announced. "What do you know of our work here, young man?"
Bane liked that. He was in his fifties himself, but with only two or three grey hairs and he did look young. "Just what my friend told me. He said you offer classes to help with finding balance and inner cleansing."
"You do know our school is for women only?"
"I have no problem with that." Bane added, "Right now, I would like to discuss a sizeable donation, tax deductible I believe. And I know several young ladies who would be interesting in taking some classes."
"I see," Duvina answered ambiguously. She began tugging off the glove on her right hand, and as she did this, the four younger women stepped closer to Bane. "I have reason to doubt your word. We of Myrrwha are no strangers to the Midnight War, nor are we ignorant of the knights of Tel Shai. And who in our realms does not know the grey eyes of the Dire Wolf?"
Duvina removed the glove and raised her open hand. With a shudder, Bane saw a human eye imbedded in her palm, and the eye moved to glare at him. It was alive. Lurid red light swirled around that hand and the imbedded eye glowed. Bane felt life being sucked out of him. He swayed and stepped back, head swimming. Two women in white gowns seized his arms and the other two knelt to yank his legs out from under him. In another instant, he would recover and break loose, but he did not have that second. Duvina bent over him and slapped her other hand over his face. Bane screamed at sudden unexpected agony, worse than any torture he had so far survived. The women held him down, laughing and taunting him.
Duvina rose. Bane could only see out of one eye and he suddenly knew what had happened. The pain was incredible, it felt as if boiling water had been poured on his face. With a convulsive surge, he broke loose, rolled and got to his feet. He touched his face and, in the most shocking moment of his life, felt an empty socket where his right eye had been.
III.
The pain eased up, and the horror gave way to a cold savage anger. Duvina must have seen the fury in his face, because she held up her right hand and again, the red gralic force drew his strength into that unnatural eye. Bane felt vitality wash out of his body, but it did not stop him. He clenched fists that could break rock and took a step forward.
"Halt!" Duvina shouted in a commanding voice. "We own part of you now. You will be in our service by the next dawn. You lied and tried to deceive us with a promise of donating money to our case. But now that shall come to pass. Every coin you own shall be given to us. You will be our slave and die in our service."
"In. Your. Dreams," Bane growled. Despite the weakness he felt, he started advancing again with murder in his heart. Two of the Myrrwhan women tried to grab his arms but received short straight punches to the middle of their chests that dropped them to the floor. "I have something to say to you," Bane told Duvina.
The older woman raised her left hand. In its palm, another human eye raised its lid and stared out with a pale grey iris. It was Bane's own eye. He drew back a fist for a killing blow, and another of the women leaped upon him, only to catch a backhand that sent her against the wall with a thump.
Now both unholy eyes crackled with dark crimson energy, and Bane fell to his knees as the lifeforce was drawn from him. Duvina chuckled, "The Sisterhood of the All-Seeing Eye can not be defied, you fool. The eyes can take in gralic energy or heat or lifeforce, whatever we will. But you shall not die. The spell will take hold today and tonight. By the next dawn, you will do whatever we command."
Summoning all his concentration, dropping the fierce urge to kill the sorceress who had mutilated him, Bane swung around and lurched for the door. With each step, he grew stronger and by the time he was in the hall, he was almost normal. He heard Duvina's cackling. His head felt foggy and he knew he needed time to think, to figure out a counter-attack. Bane made it to his car, fell into the driver's seat and spun the car around to roar out onto the road without looking for traffic. He did not know what direction he was going in. After a few miles, he pulled into a service station and tried to collect his thoughts.
Looking up into the rearview mirror, he saw his right eyelid was closed. What was the use of going to a hospital? They hadn't been able to help the other victims. Reaching behind him, Bane got the first aid kit from where it hung behind the passenger seat. He taped a gauze pad over his empty socket. All right, he thought, calm down. Now is the time to plan your counter-attack and make that witch pay. He turned south and sped back toward Manhattan.
By the time he parked his car back on 40th Street, Bane had gotten a grip. From the trunk, he found a pair of oversized sunglasses and he put them on. He was adjusting to not having depth perception but it was harder than he had expected. Back at 44th Street, he entered the lobby of his building and a woman stood up from the bench where she had been sitting as he approached.
"Karina?"
"Hello, Jeremy. It's been a while."
Yeah, thought Bane, twelve years could be called "a while." Karina still looked 19, the age Barbara Hoyt had been when the immortal spirit had possessed her willing body. Maybe she would not age for decades yet. Karine was tall, about five feet eight and slim. She had gorgeous auburn hair and deep green eyes in a thoughtful face with a wide jawline. Today, she wore a one-piece white jumpsuit with ribbed sleeves and a white belt, black canvas sneakers on her feet.
As soon as he saw her, Bane realized why she was waiting for him. The witch Duvina had mentioned the cultists were Myrrwhan and Karina was the warrior-goddess of the realm Myrrwha. He said, "I take it you know about your countrywomen and what they are up to?"
"Yes, I- oh. Jeremy, they caught you. Duvina has your eye!"
"You're telling me. Come in and we'll talk." He unlocked the office door and led her in. She did not go to one of the wooden chairs but dropped down on the leather couch and Bane wearily sat down next to her.
Karina had never been a KDF member, although she had gone with them on several adventures, and she had not petitioned to become a knight of Tel Shai either. She had gone her own way. Her story went back to the Darthan Age thirty thousand years ago, when a human adventurer had been on Ulgor during the Corruption. The first Karina had learned some forbidden arts from the Sulla Chun herself. She could project her spirit into a willing host, living on age after age. And she know the secret of muscular tension which was the basis of Kumundu. Karina had developed a fighting style all her own, refined over the millenia.
After working with Bane's team a few times, the Myrrwhan goddess had wandered off into the adjacent realms. Once in a while, he heard that she had been seen in Okali or Androval, but they had not met in a dozen years.
"If I had come here a day earlier," she said, placing her hand on his arm. "We would have challenged them together and you would be spared this. But I did not know they had entered the real world."
"Tell me about this Sisterhood of the All-Knowing Eye."
"All-Seeing Eye," she corrected. "They are not an ancient cult, only going back maybe a generation. It is a dark magick they use, forbidden magick. The leader is a witch named Duvina. I know not where she studied. Some accuse her of learning Darthan lore, it may be so. You have experienced yourself how they steal an eye right from a victim's head and place it within the palm of one of their members. Mind control is involved. They get mastery of the victim's will, growing more complete over time. In Myrrwha, they have gathered perhaps a hundred slaves. But I believe that Duvina wants to try to expand her cult into the real world, where Humans do not know of the occult."
Bane broke in. "Wait, she said by dawn tomorrow I will be her slave. Is that true?"
"I am afraid so, Jeremy. I know no way to prevent that."
Getting up, the Wolf threw off his suit jacket and dress shirt. "That's why she let me escape. So I would fall under her spell and return. She didn't want me staying there and putting up a fight." He swung the bookcase around to reveal the pit and yanked the trunk up again. As Karina watched, Bane got out of his normal clothes and pulled on the full field suit... pants and snug jacket of a tough, leatherlike material, with numerous pouches and pockets holding weapons and tools. The jacket had a protective Eldaran talisman in its collar. He lifted the helmet and placed it on his desk, then returned the trunk to its hiding place. He was not embarassed to change in front of Karina or worried about her knowing the secret pit where his weapons were stored. They were comrades who had saved each other's lives many times.
Watching him, Karina had a delighted smile. This was her captain, the one Human man she would follow to the shores of Fanedral itself. "So. You plan to attack them before they can control you."
"Absolutely. I don't have to ask you if you want to come with me."
"No, you do not," she laughed. Karina stood up, graceful as a cat, dangerous as a panther. Bane looked at her with his one remaining eye. "It's good to see you again, Karina. When this is over, we need to have a night of talking. You know most of the original KDF died in Necropolis?"
"Yes. I am sorry. And I have heard you have a new team of young knights."
"Well, not all that young by now. Come on, let's get my car and head for the showdown. We can fill each other in on the way."
IV.
On the ride north to White Plains, Bane and Karina got caught up. It seemed that Myrrwha had been through some cultural upheaval. For ages, it had been a matriarchy with as close to an all-female culture as possible. Originally, men had been abducted every few years, used to impregnate as many Myrrwhans as were interested, and then executed. Male children were killed at birth. Over the ages, this became less practical as other realms developed better defenses and increasingly resisted Myrrwhan intrusions. Now, for the last century or so, the practice had been to lure volunteers to spend a few weeks getting Myrrhwans pregnant and then returning the men to their own realms. There were not as many men from Androval or Bruenig or Danarak eager to perform this service as there once were. True, the women of Myrrwha were attractive, but their disdain for men and their disinterest in the necessary mating left the men uninspired. For the past hundred years, the Myrrwhan population had been declining and now seemed dangerously low, enough to make the Queen and her court worry.
Bane knew this and kept from making any comments. It seemed like a stupid set-up to him, but then he didn't approve of the way Chyl or Veganora ran their societies, either, and in fact he wasn't wild about many countries in the real world. Hell, he didn't even care for the way New York City was run and he lived there.
"I am the guardian of Myrrrhwa, but I am not really like most of them," Karina said as they drove along. "I have seen too much of the other realms and of the real world." She shifted uncomfortably. "I suppose it's like the farmer who goes to the big city."
Driving quickly but trying not to get pulled over, Bane asked, "Maybe it has something to do with that college girl who originally was your body?"
"There is not much left of Barbara," she said sadly. "I think she is sleeping deep down. When this body is killed, her spirit will be released to whatever fate Humans face. And I will go on."
"Cindy really wanted you to join our team. She understood when you turned membership down but she wanted you around."
Karina turned those large green eyes on Bane. "Perhaps she only wanted another woman around. She was surrounded by men all the time."
"Could be. Let me ask you about something. The doctors said the other victims showed signs of the eye growing back."
"Oh yes. The spell leaves the essence behind, and in time it restores the eye. Usually within a year or so, but you-" and here she smiled at the Wolf, "with your tagra diet? I expect your eye to return in a few weeks. See, you have very few scars, despite all the wounds you suffered?"
"I suppose," he said. "I would be just a mass of scar tissue by now, otherwise." He signaled and turned into the professional park where the Portal To Ultimate Peace was located. It was getting dark, and the lights were on in the building but only three cars remained in the lot.
Karina sat up, suddenly alert and wary. "Yes! I can feel them. They will regret bringing forbidden arts to the world. Our law is clear." She unbuckled her seat belt as Bane parked the car. "I ask you a favor, captain. Remain out here, watching that side door. I am sure Duvina will try to escape while I slay her followers. If she gets away, she will just start this over somewhere else."
"Stay out here?" Bane asked with obvious reluctance, getting out of the car.
Karina came around and put a restraining hand on his arm. "Duvina is the one you must intercept," she whispered. "She is the one who wronged you."
"All right, I guess." In the gloom, Bane put on his helmet but left the visor up. "I trust you."
With that, the warrior goddess of ancient Myrrwha spun on her heel and raced toward the door. She ignored the bell. As she approached, she drew back one arm and slammed her open palm forward, snapping the lock and slamming the door inward so hard it came off one hinge. It was not raw strength that did this, but skill. Karina knew how to plant herself and bring motion up from her feet, through her torso and out through her arm. She focussed all the strength of her entire body into each blow.
Standing by his car where he could watch the side door, Bane listened. There was shouting and a scream, then the whiplash cracking noises of Karina in action. He remembered the way she fought. As he watched, the limp body of one of the Sisterhood of the All-Seeing Eye flew through the open door and skidded on its face across the parking lot, not getting up. A second later, another woman in the white robes ran through, then spun around and waited as Karina followed. The cult member held two short swords, one in either hand, and she swung them in a figure 8 motion. Karina stalked in, open hands raised. The cultist screamed and lunged, swinging the short swords left and right. Bane watched as Karina deflected them with her bare hands.
He always enjoyed seeing her do that. She was not invulnerable, she could be stabbed or shot if taken off-guard. But when she focused her mind on part of her body, she could make it dense enough that blades or bullets would not penetrate her skin. Now, Karina slapped one of the swords aside and snapped out one foot to kick the cult member's knee. The witch fell and as she dropped, Karina struck an open hand blow to the back of the woman's neck that sounded like an axe biting into wood. She rose and spun on her heel to hurtle back into the building.
That's our Karina, Bane thought as he heard a doorknob turn. Instantly, he stepped away from his car and moved toward the building as a side door opened. Wrapped in a dark topcoat, Duvina stepped through and started to run toward one of the cars when she spotted Bane. "You!"
The Dire Wolf stood in her way, arms folded across his chest, hands near the hilts of his daggers in their forearm sheaths. Those who had seen him in similar desperate situations knew what that pose meant.
The Myrrwhan witch spat on the asphalt, "So! It was you who brought the cursed one here. Wait. I have an idea." She started to raise her open hands, the unholy eye in each palm opening. "You shall fight her. Whoever dies in your duel, I will laugh-"
That was as far as she got. As she raised her hands to exert her mind control, Bane whipped his arms open and silver glittered in the dusk. First in the right hand and then the left, a silver-bladed dagger punched home so hard her arms were flung back and she fell over backwards with a scream.
Bane slowly approached her as she struggled in an attempt to rise. She could not use either hand; the dagger points stuck out the back of her hand three inches. Duvina got to her knees but could not rise further.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Bane asked coldly. "You think it hurts worse than what you put your victims through?"
"I will kill you!" she shrieked. "I will laugh over your grave, mortal Man!"
"You can try," he said. The Dire Wolf stepped up, put one boot on her chest and pushed her over backwards. Pinning down her left arm with his foot, he tugged his dagger free of the gory mess in her hand, then repeated it with the other hand. Not enough remained on those hands to be identified as eyes.
Karina strode around the corner. "Been practicing that throw?"
"It's my trade," Bane answered. He held the soiled daggers in each hand. "She's bleeding pretty good."
"She will live long enough to stand trial. Our Queen will judge her, and I daresay the axe will swing in our courtyard." Karina had ripped off a sleeve of one of the cult member's gown and she handed it to Bane, who used it to clean his knives. "I will take her and her followers back to Myrrwha now. But I will return here soon. We have much to discuss, old friend. I wish to meet these new Tel Shai knights of yours."
"I'd like that," Bane said. "A lot has happened since you were last here."
Karina had strode over and ripped off another sleeve of the dead cultist, returning to bind up the wounded hands of Duvina. "Be still, you!" she told the moaning woman. "You had no sympathy for those you wronged." Standing up, Karina slapped her hands together in a dusting motion. "I hope you are not worried about your eye, Jeremy. With your tagra, it will certainly grow back quickly. And maybe you can wear an eyepatch in the meantime." She grinned at her comrade. "Many women of your world love a pirate!"
4/4/2013