08 – The Dragon and the Fire

“The Sears Tower?”

Erika stared up at the tallest building in Chicago with a heavy frown on her face. Of course, the shadowy organization that ran the entire city made its headquarters in the most prominent building around. She should have guessed. Headed by someone who called herself The Emperor, Erika could just picture her standing with her arms clasped behind her back, staring out over her city.

“The Willis Tower, technically,” The Art said, turning the large SUV down into a sub-level parking garage.

Erika rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, some penthouse suite where you all can look down on the rest of us?”

“What? And contend with the tourists?” The Adjustment laughed, shaking her head. “Doubt they’d take kindly to the likes of us skulking about. Nah. There’s still plenty of the city to look down upon from three-quarters of the way up.”

“No tourists today,” The Art said. “At least not at the top. One of those birds shattered the observation deck glass and made a… nest inside.”

“Right,” The Adjustment said, nodding in all seriousness. “The Emperor is already pissed about that, so try… not to be too abrasive?”

Anna leaned forward, putting herself between the two front seats of the SUV. “You haven’t cleared it out?”

“They tend to call for help when threatened,” The Art said, pulling off to the side of the parking garage, behind a partitioning wall labeled RESERVED. “The plan to deal with all of them is… stalled.”

“Apparently, they’ll just keep coming in until whatever is prying open the barrier between worlds gets told to fuck off.”

Erika glanced between Anna and Leslie, both offering grim looks. Even with all the information they had, Delilah’s existence in general, and having dealt with the maggot problem, nobody quite knew how The Mummy functioned. Had damaging the concept of the maggots broken the portals, or were no maggots appearing now because no new ones were being created?

The maggot progenitor was an aspect of The Mummy; did The Mummy care? Did its demise hurt The Mummy? Even The Daughter couldn’t answer.

“Ideally, we will offer some insight into the situation,” The Fixer said in a deep, rich voice. For today’s meeting, he wore the goateed guise of Mister Dice. It wasn’t a true cover, which put him on a time limit, but hopefully this meeting would only last a few hours at most.

At least Erika had a concrete image in her mind about how she wanted this meeting to go. If they had met before the maggot incident, as The Prescient and The Director seemed to want, she wasn’t really sure what she would have said beyond dumping information on them and hoping they had suggestions. Now, however, Erika had a plan.

The Art and The Adjustment led the group of four through a small tunnel decorated with wooden panels and brass inlays—far more extravagant than any parking garage she had visited—until they reached a similarly dressed-up elevator. The walls of the elevator showed off an external view of Chicago as they ascended, making it look like the elevator was on the outside of the building.

“You guys try to impress all your visitors?”

“Eh.” The Adjustment shrugged. “Don’t get many visitors, to be honest. All this is fairly recent too—The Emperor’s vanity project.”

Erika narrowed her eyes, gazing out through the fake windows as the city fell below the lift. She had heard a lot about The Emperor and very little sounded good. A controlling, domineering boss who breathed fire—accidentally or otherwise—often enough that her employees quipped about needing fireproof outfits did not sound like a pleasant person, nor a reasonable one.

But she controlled the city.

With a ding, the elevator doors opened to a large lounge with several thick leather couches and seats, all arrayed around an indoor fountain. A handful of people milled about, waiting, some of whom Erika recognized. The Hanged Man turned to her with an expression so bland, he had to be forcing it.

It could easily have been The Art, The Adjustment, or anyone else who kidnapped her on behalf of The Church, but because it had been The Hanged Man, Erika felt a special animosity toward him. Erika flipped him the finger, subtly, before scratching the side of her nose like nothing was amiss. She knew it was irrational, but the way the corners of his lips twitched downward made it worth it.

The Aeon leaned against the base of the fountain, talking with The Fool. While the former hid his face behind a mirrored mask, making his expression unreadable, The Fool noticed her immediately. His mouth curled into a scowl before he turned away with a huff.

“Haven’t made many friends, have you,” The Adjustment said, nudging Erika in the side.

“I mean, I did break his jaw,” Erika nodded toward The Fool, “but he was trying to crush me with a giant rock monster, so I feel we’re pretty even.”

“Ought to be careful. Not everyone is as easygoing as me and Arty.”

Even with nothing more than the fixed face of a porcelain doll, the glare The Art managed made The Adjustment wilt. However, she didn’t speak until she turned to Erika. “It helps that we did not directly fight one another during that incident. I imagine I would be… frostier if you had broken my jaw.”

“He’s probably more upset that he got thrashed than he is about his face,” The Adjustment muttered, leading the group through the atrium to a stereotypical boardroom. Although the decor managed to be stylish with more wood and engraved brass, it amounted to just a long table with several chairs set up around it.

A woman lounged in one of the seats, perusing a dusty old book with a cover so threadbare, a harsh breeze would tear it apart. An array of fluffy orange and white tails spread out in a fan behind her, some poking through the gap in the armrests, others pressed up against the seat’s back like extra cushioning. Something about the woman’s face felt familiar, but Erika couldn’t recall getting into a fight with someone like that. Based on her red and violet kimono, she was the one Daniel and Bethany encountered back at the museum.

Although a flamboyant fox woman drew attention, Erika found herself staring at the person sitting at the woman’s side. He wore a black leather mask with deep red fabric insets covering his eyes, nose, and mouth—Erika guessed that he was a luchador. He certainly had the muscular body type, with traps bigger than Erika’s biceps, all barely hidden under a too-tight button-up shirt.

“The Hermit and The Hierophant,” The Art introduced, gesturing to the two. Once The Hermit looked up from her book, she swept an arm back to Erika. “The Agent, The Widow, The Longshot, and The Fixer.”

Erika narrowed her eyes, recognizing their names. They were the ones who worked on the maggot problem, and the ones who ignored a meeting with Erika.

The Hermit stood slowly, tails stretching out behind her like someone might stretch their back after sitting for a while. “Tell me,” she said, gently closing and lowering her book. “What did you do to the ██████ of Maggots? Why is its name unspeakable?”

Erika’s irritation swapped out for surprise. Aside from herself and The Fixer, she hadn’t thought anyone noticed. “Are you an Outsider?”

“Outsider?” Her rich amber eyes swept over the group. “Interesting. I hardly sense anything strange about…” She trailed off, stopping her gaze on Anna for a long moment. “Most of you,” she finished, making Anna flinch. “Does that explain… I suppose it must.”

Nodding her head, The Hermit retook her seat, returning to her book once more as her interest in the newcomers ended.

Erika’s irritation returned, but she instead looked to Anna, lightly nudging the woman. Just enough to show that someone was here. It was the least she could do.

“Sorry about her,” The Adjustment said, leaning her spider-legs against the table as she faced The Hunters. “She’s old, so you have to be patient,” she added with a grin, like the woman wasn’t in the room with them.

Not that The Hermit seemed to care, fully engrossed in her book once again.

“What about you?” The Adjustment asked, turning to address The Hierophant. “Is this a talkative mask?”

“Thinking mask,” The Hierophant said, his tone somewhat odd and reverberating, as if two people were speaking at once. “I currently specialize in metaphysics and dimensional magics. The former me was a wizard of some renown, an expert who wound up trapped in a slip of between for twenty years before coming to inhabit this mask. I-We are the one who initially designed our net to counter the invaders—the maggots.”

Several of The Adjustment’s spider-like eyes shifted over The Hierophant, giving Erika the impression that she wasn’t quite sure how to answer that.

“Trapped? Some expert,” Anna muttered, slinking back to a seat furthest from the two. Hesitating at it, she paused and looked back to The Adjustment. “We can sit wherever? Or are there assigned seats?”

“Head of the table is for Empy. Don’t know how many of the others will be joining us.”

Anna took the comment as an okay to sit wherever, promptly did so, and drew out a note tablet and pen with a heavy scowl lining her face. Leslie moved over beside her, speaking quietly as he sat down. Erika couldn’t hear what he said, but his tone was conciliatory.

The door to the meeting room opened before Erika could move to join them. Something about the woman who walked in demanded attention. It wasn’t her monochrome attire—a white button-up, black vest, white suit jacket, and black overcoat worn over her shoulders without her arms in her sleeves—nor the faint amber light that bled into her dark irises as her gaze swept the room. It was the weight of her. The way the air seemed to compress as she entered.

The Emperor had arrived.

She said nothing as she took a seat at the head of the table, pulling her overcoat from her shoulders and draping it over the back of her seat in a single, fluid motion. If she found anything objectionable about the assembled group—Erika included—her expression didn’t advertise it. She simply looked at everyone with that amber-edged gaze until everyone had taken their seats and was looking back at her, and then she folded her hands on the table.

“I don’t waste time on pleasantries,” The Emperor said, her voice measured and unhurried. “You stopped what was becoming a significant problem for my city. That earns you this meeting. It does not earn you goodwill, patience, or the assumption of continued good intent.” Her eyes landed on Erika. “You are The Agent.”

“Last I checked,” Erika said, immediately regretting her sarcasm as the amber in The Emperor’s eyes flickered. “Yes,” she said a little more respectfully. “I am.”

“Reports state that you broke what was filling my city with maggots.” A pause. Erika got the impression that she was evaluating how much weight to give that fact even though she must have decided before the meeting started. “I’ll ask plain and simple: what do you want?”

Erika resisted the urge to glance down the table. Leslie was the effective leader of The Hunters and The Fixer was the one who had been hounding The Mummy for centuries… but she was the one who had been petitioning for a meeting; she rehearsed this in her head over and over again for the last two hours. Straightening her back, Erika clasped her hands on the table and tried to quash her nervousness—not an easy feat when those eyes were boring into her.

“Those birds in your observation deck?” Erika said, breaking from her rehearsed speech in the very first words out of her mouth. “They aren’t going to stop on their own. Different things will come, even if you do manage to contain them—bigger things, meaner things. The maggots were an opening act.”

Silence answered her, broken only by the faint rustle of The Hermit turning a page.

“We know this,” The Emperor said.

Erika couldn’t stop her eyebrows popping up. She knew that The Mummy was made up of mythological creatures and legends, each of which would cause problems if she accidentally broke more chains. Her information came from The Fixer and, mostly, Delilah, so to hear The Emperor speak so certainly without either source threw her off.

Licking her lips, Erika took a breath and asked, “Do you know why?”

The Emperor tilted her head, gaze lingering on Erika, but eventually flicked her eyes to The Hermit.

“The ██████ of Maggots,” The Hermit said. “A supposed old god. It is far from the only one. The birds bear resemblance to old myths and legends of Phorusrhacids—Terror Birds or, in some cultures, Corpse Birds.”

“Pattern recognition is not alien to us,” The Hierophant added with a faint smile in his tone. “Where these creatures originate is not the mystery, but rather, why two South American legends have manifested in Chicago.”

Erika pursed her lips, shifting in her seat. Nobody, not even Delilah, had been able to confirm that Erika was the reason they were here. At the same time, something in her gut told her that, should she leave Chicago and travel elsewhere, her troubles would follow. The Mummy and its cult wanted her to break its chains. Even Delilah was only a secondary concern, knowing as they did that The Daughter wasn’t interested in lending aid.

Shaking off the unease, Erika pushed forward, throwing away the rest of her speech before she even got a chance to speak it. “If you know so much about the Carrion Eater, you must know how to stop it?”

A longer pause followed her question, one that dragged on and on.

The longer the silence went on, the more Erika’s confidence returned. They didn’t know everything. A vague temptation to stand up and act like she was going to walk away hit her, just to force them to acknowledge that they wanted her to stay, but she was too worried about throwing away this opportunity to actually do it.

“I have more than theories,” Erika said, pressing her hands flat on the table as she leaned in, looking from The Hermit to The Emperor. “The Carrion Eater is a mere aspect of a larger being—old, powerful, and currently very interested in Chicago.” She watched The Emperor’s reaction and got nothing. “I don’t think it is wise to get near the larger being, but The Carrion Eater? I can break it,” she boasted with a wide grin. “Just like I broke your little maggot problem.”

“The Carrion Eater,” The Hermit said, curling her lip at the title as she finally closed her book, “is a being that has been feasting on death since before your species learned to bury its own. And you think you can handle it? Just like that?”

“Remind me, what was the name of the maggot god again?”

The Hermit pressed her lips into a razor-thin line, but did not speak before she reclined in her seat, opening her book once again.

The Emperor immediately took over. “If it were so simple, you would have done so already, as you did previously. You are instead here, pestering us. So I ask a final time: what do you want?”

Erika narrowed her eyes, feeling some unwise words well on her tongue.

“We have a contact,” Leslie cut in, “one who can lead us to the Carrion Eater. We aren’t walking in blind, but we have reason to believe this will be far more dangerous than dealing with overgrown bugs.”

“A contact?” The Emperor said, turning to Leslie. “Who?”

“Someone with a vested interest in the same outcome,” Erika answered.

“A non-answer does not instill confidence.”

The amber in The Emperor’s eyes flared, just slightly, and Erika resisted the urge to check if the temperature in the room had gone up. The way The Adjustment leaned away from Erika, like she didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire, made Erika hesitate.

The door to the boardroom swung open, admitting a man who looked like he hadn’t slept in several days, or possibly had slept in several different awful places in sequence. He brushed a hand through short, dusty brown hair before scratching at his stomach, messing up his already half-untucked shirt.

Erika’s jaw tightened.

The Emperor’s expression moved, taking that mild ire at Erika’s answer and multiplying it tenfold as she looked at the newcomer. A few sparks danced out from her nostrils as she exhaled, but she quickly schooled her expression as if she had never felt an emotion in her life.

“The Banker,” The Emperor said, now glaring at The Hanged Man as he followed The Banker into the room.

“Terribly sorry for the intrusion,” The Banker said, not sounding sorry at all. He gestured vaguely to the table, his gaze skimming across Erika just a little too quick to be natural. “I happened to be in the building and thought I might observe.”

“You happened to be in the building,” The Adjustment said, tone utterly flat. “And just happened to hear about a meeting that hasn’t been advertised?”

“The Church happens to hear about a lot of things.” The Banker moved to the table, taking a seat at the far end without even waiting for permission or acceptance. He settled into it with the boneless patience of someone who made a living being where he wasn’t wanted. “My presence is entirely for observational purposes—no agenda, no commentary. To apologize for the inconvenience, The Analyst is willing to offer one small compensation to The Eclipse.”

“What about to The Hunters?” Erika asked with a glower. The Fixer put a hand on her thigh, but Erika brushed it off. “We’re the ones with all the information here.”

The Banker adjusted his glasses with a single finger pressed to the bridge. “Information that is ours by right, per prior agreements… which you have neglected following the downfall of the ██████ of Maggots.”

Erika’s glower turned to a grimace. The compensation for the bounty, informing The Church about everything Erika learned of The Mummy… might have required a courtesy phone call following the excursion to the Ziggurat. And, if they knew of her, The Church would probably be deeply interested in Delilah as well.

Sitting back in her seat, Erika dropped the argument. As soon as she turned back to The Emperor, she found those amber-tinted eyes staring at her, waiting.

Erika stiffened, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Assistance in reaching the Carrion Eater would be optimal,” The Fixer said, coming to her rescue. “We presume The Eclipse is interested in suppressing this problem, but in case you aren’t, laying off other help we might seek is acceptable.”

“Other help,” The Emperor repeated. Little sparks lit her mouth as she spoke, like she was chomping down on Wintergreen Lifesavers. “The Puppet does not recognize our jurisdiction. They have not agreed to our terms.”

“They did more to beat down the maggots than you did.”

“They’re warring in my city,” The Emperor said with a visible gout of flames slipping from her lips.

The Adjustment immediately pressed a hand against Erika’s thigh under the table, giving her clear warning.

Erika ground her teeth. She hadn’t even been the one to mention The Puppet, but it was clear that even alluding to them had been a mistake. She either wanted The Eclipse’s help outright or them to leave The Puppet alone so The Puppet could dedicate more time to helping her. The Puppet still wanted revenge for being kidnapped and Michael’s death, but Erika couldn’t ignore The Eclipse’s potential support.

Ideally, both The Eclipse and The Puppet would help out together, but Erika was trying to temper her expectations.

“The Agent broke a name,” The Hermit said, speaking as if making a note rather than addressing a room. “She unmade a concept. That is not something which can be learned or replicated.”

“The Aeon—” The Art started, only for The Hermit to shake her head.

“We may be able to find an alternate solution, but I doubt it will come quickly.” The Hermit’s eyes left the pages of her book, sliding over to The Emperor. “That is my only commentary on this matter.”

Slowly, The Emperor lifted her elbows to the table, interlaced her fingers, and rested her chin against her knuckles. Her burning amber eyes never strayed from Erika, but gave the impression that she was waiting for anyone to offer something else.

Erika tried to maintain eye contact, but broke away as the silence dragged on. She shot one quick glance down her side of the table. The Fixer frowned down toward The Banker, Leslie offered her a small, reassuring smile, and Anna looked like she was transcribing everything said during this meeting into her notebook.

At the end of the table, The Banker sat with his eyes closed, head tilted slightly like he had fallen asleep.

Erika didn’t buy it.

“The primary problem we have faced in handling this matter ourselves,” The Emperor said, her tone marginally more calm, “is reaching this other realm. Although we managed to stop the maggots from breaching, we were unable to follow the paths to the other side. Can your contact facilitate our passage?”

Erika winced, not having wanted Delilah brought up again now that The Banker was here. Given The Analyst’s interest in The Mummy, she was just as likely to want to dissect Delilah as The Fixer was, albeit for informational purposes rather than desire to stop The Mummy.

“Actually,” Erika said, recognizing an easy out from that line of discussion. “I think that’s me. I was the one who got us to the maggots’ ziggurat. I can break open the passage. If you think you can handle it yourself, I can open the door, but I know I can handle it as long as you can get me to the god.”

The Emperor’s eyes flicked to The Hermit, but the latter’s words held true as she didn’t even react. “We’ll make preparations.”

“You’ll help us?” Erika asked despite herself.

“You will help us,” The Emperor corrected.

It took a force of will to avoid rolling her eyes. If The Emperor wanted to pretend like she was the important one here, it was no skin off Erika’s back.

She got what she wanted.