XXXVI

In Which Mrs. Abernathy’s Identity Is Revealed

THE ISOLATED MEMBER OF their little band said nothing. It was left to Professor Hilbert to break the silence.

“Dorothy!” he cried. “Er, and/or Reginald, of course. Can this be true?”

“Turncoat!” said the Polite Monster. “Eight letters,” it added, “ ‘one who abandons one party or group to join another.’ ”

“No,” said Samuel. “I don’t think Dorothy ever really existed at all.”

Professor Hilbert turned to Professor Stefan.

“I thought that you hired her,” he said.

“I thought that you did.”

“We need a more careful hiring policy,” said Professor Hilbert.

Dorothy/Reginald removed her false beard. What was revealed was a chin that had begun to blacken and decay. She tugged at her hair, and it came away from her skull in clumps until only a bald, spotted scalp remained. Her body started to swell, bursting through her clothing. Her arms and legs lengthened, and they could hear the grinding of bone against bone, and the snapping of sinews. She rose above them all as tentacles exploded from her back, their beaklike endings gulping at the air, as her black heart flooded the host body with its poison and transformed it. Her head expanded, horns sprouting from the bone, and her mouth grew larger and larger. Her human teeth were forced from her gums and replaced with row upon row of sharp incisors. She reminded Samuel of a huge black mantis, but there was a hint of Ba’al to her appearance, and more than a little of Mrs. Abernathy. Her skin was slightly translucent, and the bones and muscles were visible beneath it, as was the dark heart that beat at the core of her being, protected by a thick, hard shield of keratinized cells.

But it was the eyes that drew Samuel’s attention. They were large and still somewhat human in appearance, but any traces of real humanity were long gone: in their place was only absolute madness. Samuel thought that it was like staring into the center of a storm, a thing of pure, relentless destruction.

“Hello, Samuel,” said the beast, and the voice was Mrs. Abernathy’s, and any lingering doubts were banished.

“Hello,” said Samuel, for want of anything better to say. From somewhere near his ankles came the sound of Boswell barking. Mrs. Abernathy had once hurt the little dog badly. He had not forgotten, but he was not afraid. Instead, he seemed anxious to inflict some harm of his own upon her in return.

Above their heads, the Shadows converged, the weight of them pressing down upon the Earth. They sensed their time was near. Soon this world would be theirs, and all other worlds would follow. They would swallow every star in the universe and leave it cold and black before moving on to the rest of the Multiverse. In time they would make their way to Hell itself and put out its fires, for the Shadows wanted no lights left burning. The Shadows wanted only to spread the Darkness.