him and Barry, and the strange black blood dribbling between his fingers. “Why only now? I’m nothing special, never have been. Look me up in the dictionary; you’ll find me under ‘mediocre’.”
“It’s always been there, just quiet.”
Jack shook his head. “I don’t believe in that mystical crap.”
“Sure you do. You’re a nerd.”
“Just because I like fantasy doesn’t mean I believe in the impossible.”
“Who said anything was impossible?”
“A man appearing in the middle of a book-store in a cloud of ice is impossible.”
“Apparently not.” Barry shuffled closer and cleared his throat. “Something inside you is awake now, because the Web needs you. You’re here for as much a reason as anybody. You just have a bigger role than most, so you get a few… perks.”
“What the hell is this Web?”
Barry gestured around them impatiently. “Y’know, the Web of All Where. Everything. All the worlds connected to one another, cosmic enormity, infinite planes coexisting, yada yada.”
Jack rubbed his tired eyes. “Your name’s not really Barry, is it?”
The Scot-but-not’s pain-dulled, inky eyes flickered with the gazes of a thousand men in one, all looking at him from across vast reaches of space and time.
“I’ve had more names than there are people in this city,” Barry muttered. Jack felt that he would never have received so straight an answer before. Something in the injury and pain had sloughed off Barry’s outer brashness.
“What are you? A man or a… a god?”
Barry’s lips twitched, not a sneer but a soft gentle smile. It was the first genuine sign of humour Jack had seen in him. “Neither. Somewhere in between.”
“If you have the power, why don’t you wave your magic wand and fix this?”
“I’m a lot closer to man, believe me.”
Jack fumed, pressing too hard with the gauze. Barry jerked with a grunt. “Don’t give me that bull. You could take my head off any second. You read my damn mind.”
“Just a bag of tricks.” Barry’s glassy eyes tracked over Jack, and a hint of regret filtered into his gaze. “It’s you who have all the real power. Creatures of destiny. I come from a place called Highcourt. I suppose you could call us self-appointed guardians. We gather creatures like you up like playing cards.”
“Why?”
“We need as many as we can get.”
“There are more of you?”
He nodded, then cocked his head. “Maybe not for long. You’d never know it, but there’s a war going on out there. We’ve kept the Web safe for a very long time, but Harper’s lot might have finally turned the tables on us. We can’t fail here. We have to keep everything spinning.”
Jack said nothing. There wasn’t much he could have said.
He had Barry’s wounds staunched for the most part, and it was a matter of waiting for the last of the bleeding to ebb. In time, Barry sat straighter, his breathing less ragged.
“I didn’t know I had the healer’s touch,” Jack said.
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re okay.” Barry flexed his shoulder and winced, wind-milling the arm in its socket. “There’s more to those claws than sharpness. They don’t just tear flesh. It goes a lot deeper than that.”
“You look all right.”
“If he’d touched you, you’d be in a right state. Your body might survive, but your mind…” He mimed shooting himself between the eyes, flexing his fingers on the other side of his head to represent brain splatter.
“Then why did you get so close?”
“When I came, I knew somebody was screwing around here, but I never expected Harper. He’s a vulture, preys off pain and fear and death that others bring.” He looked sickened. “If he’s got his fingers in this deep, he must have been here a long time. Years. Maybe longer.”
“What happens if we can’t stop him?”
“Our little mission to keep the Web in one piece gets harder. A lot harder.” He was much stronger now, and mettle laced his face, a temerity
“It’s always been there, just quiet.”
Jack shook his head. “I don’t believe in that mystical crap.”
“Sure you do. You’re a nerd.”
“Just because I like fantasy doesn’t mean I believe in the impossible.”
“Who said anything was impossible?”
“A man appearing in the middle of a book-store in a cloud of ice is impossible.”
“Apparently not.” Barry shuffled closer and cleared his throat. “Something inside you is awake now, because the Web needs you. You’re here for as much a reason as anybody. You just have a bigger role than most, so you get a few… perks.”
“What the hell is this Web?”
Barry gestured around them impatiently. “Y’know, the Web of All Where. Everything. All the worlds connected to one another, cosmic enormity, infinite planes coexisting, yada yada.”
Jack rubbed his tired eyes. “Your name’s not really Barry, is it?”
The Scot-but-not’s pain-dulled, inky eyes flickered with the gazes of a thousand men in one, all looking at him from across vast reaches of space and time.
“I’ve had more names than there are people in this city,” Barry muttered. Jack felt that he would never have received so straight an answer before. Something in the injury and pain had sloughed off Barry’s outer brashness.
“What are you? A man or a… a god?”
Barry’s lips twitched, not a sneer but a soft gentle smile. It was the first genuine sign of humour Jack had seen in him. “Neither. Somewhere in between.”
“If you have the power, why don’t you wave your magic wand and fix this?”
“I’m a lot closer to man, believe me.”
Jack fumed, pressing too hard with the gauze. Barry jerked with a grunt. “Don’t give me that bull. You could take my head off any second. You read my damn mind.”
“Just a bag of tricks.” Barry’s glassy eyes tracked over Jack, and a hint of regret filtered into his gaze. “It’s you who have all the real power. Creatures of destiny. I come from a place called Highcourt. I suppose you could call us self-appointed guardians. We gather creatures like you up like playing cards.”
“Why?”
“We need as many as we can get.”
“There are more of you?”
He nodded, then cocked his head. “Maybe not for long. You’d never know it, but there’s a war going on out there. We’ve kept the Web safe for a very long time, but Harper’s lot might have finally turned the tables on us. We can’t fail here. We have to keep everything spinning.”
Jack said nothing. There wasn’t much he could have said.
He had Barry’s wounds staunched for the most part, and it was a matter of waiting for the last of the bleeding to ebb. In time, Barry sat straighter, his breathing less ragged.
“I didn’t know I had the healer’s touch,” Jack said.
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re okay.” Barry flexed his shoulder and winced, wind-milling the arm in its socket. “There’s more to those claws than sharpness. They don’t just tear flesh. It goes a lot deeper than that.”
“You look all right.”
“If he’d touched you, you’d be in a right state. Your body might survive, but your mind…” He mimed shooting himself between the eyes, flexing his fingers on the other side of his head to represent brain splatter.
“Then why did you get so close?”
“When I came, I knew somebody was screwing around here, but I never expected Harper. He’s a vulture, preys off pain and fear and death that others bring.” He looked sickened. “If he’s got his fingers in this deep, he must have been here a long time. Years. Maybe longer.”
“What happens if we can’t stop him?”
“Our little mission to keep the Web in one piece gets harder. A lot harder.” He was much stronger now, and mettle laced his face, a temerity
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