unmoving clouds. The empty grounds, and the utter silence surrounding us. More than ever it all looked like a stage set. A simple background for the play to come. I thought about the sheer power it would take to make a world like this. To create a whole separate reality, just to have somewhere suitable to play your Game. Unless . . . Walker wasn’t telling me the truth. Or all of the truth.
“Where are we, really?” I said. “These aren’t the actual Drood grounds.”
“Of course not,” said Walker. “They’re just here to help you feel at home. To put you at your ease.”
“Definitely not working,” I said.
“We’re in a private pocket dimension,” said Walker. “A world created specifically to hold the Big Game. The Shifting Lands, far from everywhere and of their own unique nature. Because nothing less would do.”
I took that with a pinch of salt. There was always the chance the Powers That Be had simply discovered the Shifting Lands and taken them over for their own use. I didn’t trust anything about this deceitful world that had lied to me from the moment I arrived. And I definitely didn’t trust Walker. Of course, he knew that when he started telling me things . . .
“So,” I said, “what does this place really look like, when it isn’t pretending to be Drood grounds?”
“Don’t ask me,” said Walker. “I’m just a visitor, like yourself. Only with rather more privileges. Think of me as the umpire. Feel free to come to me with all your little problems.”
“You really are pushing it now,” I said.
“I am, aren’t I?”
I thought for a moment of the subtle realms, of the soft world where I met Melanie Blaze. That had been a private pocket dimension too, where the world changed according to the wishes of those who lived there. Could I be back there and not know it? It seemed to me that ever since I’d walked through that damned Travel Bureau Door, I hadn’t been able to trust anything.
“Who are the Powers That Be?” I said.
“Ah,” said Walker, “that would be telling.”
“Do you know?”
“Of course I know. But you don’t . . . How unusual. I thought Droods knew everything. No doubt the Powers That Be will tell you when they want you to know.”
I decided I’d had enough, and so I armoured up. Golden strange matter flowed out of my torc and covered me in a moment, and just like that I felt stronger and faster, more awake and more certain. Walker fell back a step in spite of himself. Not surprising, really. The last thing a lot of people ever saw in their life was an angry Drood in his armour, advancing on them. Coming for them. I lifted one golden fist and let Walker see the heavy spikes rising up from the knuckles. And then, quite suddenly, someone else appeared, to stand between Walker and me. The sheer impact of her presence stopped me in my tracks—and there aren’t many who can do that. Walker peered out from behind her, and smiled easily.
“This is my protector. The Somnambulist. Isn’t she splendid?”
I looked her over carefully. I could sense the power burning in her, the dangerous strength and speed, even though she was quite clearly fast asleep. Her eyes were tightly closed, but the eyeballs still moved. Rapid Eye Movements. The Somnambulist was dreaming.
She had a sharp chin and prominent cheekbones, a formidably pretty face, packed full of character, and more than a hint of ethnic Gypsy about her. She could have been anything from her twenties to her forties. Dark russet hair fell in thick ringlets to her shoulders and beyond. Her arms lay limp and unmoving at her sides, but still managed to suggest they were ready for action at a moment’s notice. She had large, bony hands, with heavy knuckles, weighed down by a great many gold and silver rings, set with strange and unfamiliar gems. She wore traditional Romany clothes, Gypsy chic, complete with a hell of a lot of necklaces, bangles, and bracelets. She stood almost unnaturally still, between me and Walker, blocking the way. Walker smiled easily at me over her shoulder.
“This is my personal assistant,” he said.
“You mean bodyguard,” I said.
“That too!”
“Why would Walker need a bodyguard?” I said. “When he never needed one in the Nightside, possibly the most dangerous place there is? After all, with or without his Voice, Walker was always an extraordinarily dangerous person in his own right. So