0:01

So, there you have

0:03

it. I admit

0:05

to the murder of Merylmar.

0:08

Are you satisfied? I

0:11

have data for each of the points

0:14

which I was asked to collect. So

0:17

we are finished. No.

0:22

Now a process of review

0:24

will begin. Your responses

0:26

will be evaluated. Your guilt will

0:29

be determined. I

0:31

have admitted to the crime.

0:35

Your guilt will be

0:37

determined. The

0:51

murder of Merylmar. Brooklyn

1:10

Williams moved through the darkness.

1:13

Buck and Mr. Spade had been

1:15

swallowed by the pitch-black fog immediately.

1:18

But the fear that pulsed in her was not

1:20

caused by the midnight storm or the threat of

1:22

death. But the worry that

1:24

Marco was about to be caught in the

1:27

teeth of a threat bigger than any of

1:29

them had anticipated. Something

1:31

moved in the fog ahead of her. She

1:33

was sure of it. And she stumbled back

1:35

as it lurched past her. She

1:37

caught a silhouette for a moment, a

1:40

wet cape wrapped around bulky shoulders. And

1:43

then she hoped it was not Marco,

1:45

because the body had been flung back

1:47

and it flipped over the deck rail

1:50

and vanished into the fog, leaving only

1:52

drifting clouds in its wake. She

1:55

could not hear so much as a scream or

1:57

the crash of the waves or the pelting rain.

2:00

upon the deck. It reminded

2:02

her of activating the Dreaming Visor

2:04

that had been built into her

2:06

glasses once. The way they dampened

2:08

sound and made the mind numb

2:11

left you dead to the world and

2:13

so ready to dream. It was

2:16

no harmless dream but a very

2:18

real nightmare that she waded through

2:21

and she pulled her light gun

2:23

from her belt. It was

2:25

a small thing and kept for the last

2:27

resort. If she was put in

2:29

the way of a suspect then their

2:31

plans had usually gone wrong indeed. But

2:34

the ship lights above her were not

2:36

yielding any help down on the shrouded

2:38

deck and she could not tell in

2:40

which direction things were moving around her.

2:43

And when a large shape loomed in the

2:45

darkness only steps ahead of her she

2:47

pulled the trigger. The

2:50

firearm had been salvaged from the remains

2:52

of a Botco drone and the

2:54

first stage of its laser was

2:56

only a red dot that illuminated

2:58

a line through the black fog

3:01

and trailed across a black cloaked

3:03

chest, a chin with stubble, a

3:05

scarred face. A few feet away

3:07

from her, Marco winced as she

3:09

shone the laser in his eye

3:11

by accident. And he grinned

3:13

and she clicked the light off and

3:15

felt him move to her side and

3:17

she grabbed his arm. He

3:19

was shouting but his voice was a

3:21

muffled blur and she dragged

3:23

him away from the railing further into

3:26

the deck where she reached out and

3:28

felt the scaffolding leading into the array

3:30

of shipping containers that formed the above

3:32

deck lodging. She grabbed

3:34

a hold of the door's long locking bars

3:37

and pulled it open and Marco fell in

3:39

after her and she was quick to bring

3:41

the door shut afterwards. Did

3:44

it work? Marco said as the

3:46

sound returned. The light on

3:49

the other hand did not and they

3:51

crouched in an unlit shipping container unsure

3:53

of what lay further within. Please

3:56

tell me it worked. It's

3:58

gotten more complicated. must

14:00

be, how they set each other

14:02

into motion, and how each piece

14:04

affected the next in the grand

14:06

game of life and death being

14:08

played aboard the east wind. And

14:11

from it all he had to derive the

14:13

answer, what did they need

14:15

to do? There was,

14:17

at the dark epicenter on the

14:20

deck above, the Countess. A

14:22

trail of blood ran in her wake

14:24

and stained the nights of the voyage.

14:26

The fog that she had summoned was

14:29

her saving grace, the veil that allowed

14:31

only one or two armored knights to

14:33

strike at a time. He

14:35

could picture her ducking beneath the

14:37

flash of a silver sword, claws

14:40

seeking a soft space between the

14:42

helmet and shoulder and finding none,

14:44

wrenching an arm off entirely before

14:46

casting the knight away like a

14:48

broken toy. And Sir Fen,

14:51

standing on a higher balcony of the

14:53

crate, earth falling from her armor, and

14:56

the armor of a half dozen

14:58

other knights rising to enclose their

15:00

prey. And the Saint

15:02

Loris, standing with her frail feet

15:04

turned in, barely able to lift

15:06

the edge of her long and

15:08

thin rune etched silver sword from

15:11

the ground. The sheath's

15:13

rubies gleamed with light and the

15:15

runes of the blade with holy

15:17

fire. What

15:20

is it with you people and

15:22

your swords and your creeds? said

15:25

the Countess, her nails and

15:27

teeth and wings all of a

15:29

flexible sharpness. We

15:31

are nothing but the words we

15:34

live by, said the dragon slaying

15:36

Saint, and our

15:38

words are the writ of the

15:40

almighty God. What

15:42

word do you, sir, spawn

15:45

of the empty heavens? Your

15:48

words are tired, said the

15:50

vampire. I've heard

15:52

them before at abandoned abbeys

15:54

and castle doors and hotel

15:57

lobbies, and I can't

15:59

tell you how dread- dreadfully bored I am,

16:01

or how many times

16:03

I've had to begin again to find

16:05

a little peace and quiet. As

16:08

you know, I never feel much

16:11

like evil until some self-proclaimed righteousness

16:13

comes knocking on my door. And

16:17

the vampire would pull the black fog

16:19

around her in a mighty upward leap,

16:21

and Sir Fen would cast a silver

16:24

net, and the saint would put all

16:26

her flagellated might into a sweeping strike

16:28

with her silver blade, and holy fire

16:31

would leap from it in an arc

16:33

to cut through deck and safety rail

16:35

alike. And their battle was

16:37

a matter of time, the

16:39

leaping vicious strikes of the Countess

16:42

against the unified and relentless rise

16:44

of the night and the cruel

16:46

invention of their silver weapons that

16:48

burned the Countess at the slightest

16:51

touch, but they did

16:53

not have time. Nor

16:56

in the black fog could they

16:58

hear the increasing uproar of the

17:00

thunder above, or see the lightning

17:02

burning high in the heavens, or

17:04

the size of the waves that

17:06

were beginning to rise and fall

17:08

beneath the east wind's hull, or

17:10

the rising miasma of black ichor

17:12

and bone in the water below,

17:15

as though the very sea was

17:17

cursed with death. No

17:21

one would see the humble boot with

17:23

nip and pliers in one hand and

17:25

a firearm in the other, a

17:27

vampire hunting gun with a crucifix

17:30

engraved on each side and the

17:32

last six silver bullets of its

17:34

case loaded, and a necklace

17:36

of garlic blooms around his neck, his

17:39

cape and battered boot hat drenched

17:41

by the silent pore of the

17:43

rain. He would close

17:46

his eyes, feeling the pitch of the deck

17:48

beneath him and the rain above, and hum

17:50

a ditty to himself as he felt for

17:52

the kind of presence he had spent half

17:54

a lifetime learning how

17:57

to anticipate, and

17:59

when he felt that harmony had been achieved.

18:01

Deck and wind and the swirl of the

18:03

fog and the figures in a dance of

18:05

death on the other side of it. He

18:08

would fire into the darkness, and

18:10

the silver bullet would sail like

18:12

a wayward thorn towards an unknown

18:14

heart. The

18:18

sound of the gun would be loud

18:20

enough to wake the sleeping close by,

18:22

even through the fog, and someone who

18:25

looked much like Valerie Maidstone would rise

18:27

to find that she could not see

18:29

or hear the world outside. She

18:32

might not believe it at first.

18:34

Might assume the fog swimming around

18:36

her was like any psychedelic trip

18:38

she had embarked on before, and

18:41

that the only defense lay in music she

18:43

had stolen. She might, barefoot

18:45

and in her night dress, plug

18:48

in her amp, charge up her

18:50

electric guitar, and play an anthem

18:52

against the darkness pouring into her

18:55

room, and the cords at full

18:57

blast echoed through the housing stacks

18:59

deep into the ship as she

19:01

crooned and denounced the darkness. Hundreds

19:05

of passengers waking to the uneasy

19:07

tumult of the ship and the

19:09

rasp of Valerie Maidstone's warning voice

19:11

echoing through the metal walls of

19:13

their containers, pouring out of their

19:16

containers into the silent fog, crowding

19:18

the deck without knowing it, finding

19:20

upon them knights in silver and

19:22

pools of rain-spattered blood streaming across

19:25

the greats, rising into

19:27

a panic. Above

19:29

it all, Captain Branston, standing stern at

19:31

the helm of his ship, high over

19:34

the waves of the fog, praying that

19:36

he has made the right choice, and

19:38

that the knights and night watches under

19:41

his employ can deal with one beast

19:43

aboard. But he has

19:45

faith, despite everything, and despite

19:47

every foul turn that the wind has ever

19:50

handed to him, that the

19:52

knights of New England are strong, and the

19:54

detectives at his beck and call are the

19:56

most cunning men that he knows, and if

19:58

anyone can stop it,