CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nobody
VII
…ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ…
The buzz was an oppressive force in Wilburn’s eardrums, like when he’d swum down to touch the bottom of Lake Hambserg that summer. The sound resonated through his body, in his chest, in his stomach, in his sinuses—and in his mind, the same vibrations transposed in higher dimensions. The presence and the vibrations were one, just as the presence and the hornets were one—inseparable aspects of a singularity, the singularity of Her.
Wilburn glanced sidelong at the Girl in Black, wondering if she sensed the presence too. He thought she did. Her jaw was set, her posture ready and alert. She turned slowly on the toes of her boots, knees bent to absorb the shock waves rumbling up from the caldera. Wilburn wondered why she didn’t simply fly. She was a better wizard than him, clearly; yet she chose to stand on the unsteady stone rather than float, as he was doing.
The seismic tremors were rapidly widening the fissures in the temple floor. Bodies were beginning to fall down into cracks. It was a sickening sight. Wilburn’s eyes drifted in search of a non-sickening sight—but there kind of wasn’t one, apart from the Girl in Black—and he couldn’t keep staring at her, or she would think he was a loser—he didn’t want her to think that. Wilburn’s gaze settled on the heap of blood-soaked fabric that was Red Guy. The way the temple’s quaking jostled the man’s body created an uncanny semblance of life. A most uncanny semblance of life…
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What happened next shouldn’t have come as such a shock; after all, the serpent had already proven it was possible. Nevertheless, Wilburn was gobsmacked. What happened was that Red Guy got to his feet and casually dusted himself off, stretching as if he’d just awoken from a catnap. Then the freshly resurrected man threw back his hood, baring his bald head. He wasn’t chanting anymore; nor was his expression blank. Worse, he was smiling, a hungry, clever smile. Her smile. Red Guy was Her. Red Guy was the presence. The exterior remained that of the man who had slain the serpent, but inside there was no man—there was only Her, dressed up in the man’s meat suit, pulling the strings of his flesh marionette.
“Who do you serve?” It was the Girl in Black who demanded this of Red Guy. She was closer than Wilburn to the man, and she didn’t back away. She had drawn her knife and looked ready to stab him with its blacker-than-black blade at a moment’s notice. Red Guy simply smiled that chilling, predatory smile at her. The girl didn’t smile back. But nor did her face reveal fear; it heartened Wilburn to see that—though, it would have heartened him a whole lot more to have his own magic knife, especially when Red Guy turned that awful smile on him. Wilburn instinctively recoiled. The presence gazed out from the man’s unblinking eyes, wanting Wilburn, claiming him.
“Speak,” the Girl in Black said, with cold authority.
And Red Guy spoke. Or rather, the presence spoke through him, in a serene voice that was all the more unnerving for its unexpected sanity. What Red Guy said was… was um…
“Rats, how did that go? It was kind of like, one plus one equals two… but… different. Iddo said it came from an epic poem, but it didn’t seem that epic to me. Anyways, then Red Guy—”