Nightside 04 - Hex and the City

long time ago," Walker said, in answer to some unheard comment. "We were all different people then."
    "Did you ever find out exactly what it was that crashed your Working?" said Pretty Poison, sipping her tea with style and grace.
    "No more questions," said Walker. "I've already told you far more than I should. Why are you here, Sophia?"
    She smiled at him over her cup. "There are those who say John's mother is coming back."
    "Then God help us all."
    "Why would she be coming back now, Henry? What is her connection with John's current case?"
    For a moment I thought Walker would just order her to leave, or even summon his people and have her dragged away, but the strength seemed to seep right out of him, as though he'd been carrying the burden for far too long and just didn't care any more. He sat back in his chair, looking suddenly old as well as tired, and his eyes were lost in yesterday.
    "Mark set it all in motion," he said finally, his voice flat, almost empty. "Back when he introduced Charles to his wife-to-be. I prefer, however, to believe he didn't really know what he was doing. That he was being ... used. By then, he was the Collector. Revered, or despised, depending on whom you talked to. Charles was a research specialist, almost a hermit. He called Mark, in his capacity as the Collector, looking for a research assistant to help him in his very narrow field. (Was that Charles's idea, I wonder, or did some Voice whisper in his ear?) By that time, Charles was investigating the beginnings of the Nightside, using all the money he'd made to fund his new obsession. Mark consulted with various experts, for an exorbitant fee, and finally presented Charles with a young lady called Fennella Davis. An up-and-coming young scholar with an excellent reputation, pretty and bright and articulate, and also very interested in the origins of the Nightside. Soon enough, she and Charles were in love, then they were married."
    Walker frowned into his empty cup but made no move to refill it. "Poor Charles. He didn't understand that he was just a means to an end. Charles wasn't the point. John was the point."
    "How do you mean?" said Pretty Poison, leaning forward. "What is it that makes John so important?"
    "I remember when he was bom," said Walker, not looking at her. "I'd never seen Charles so happy. He spent less and less time on his private work and more and more time with his new family. He stopped being a hermit and embraced life. He accepted new research commissions and rebuilt his reputation as a scholar all over again, with Fennella's help. He and I and Mark became reconciled again, friends again, after so many years. We were older, and perhaps a little wiser, and we were ... happy again.
    "We all liked Fennella. She was such good company.
    "And then Charles finally discovered who and what his lovely wife really was. I don't know if there was ever a confrontation, but suddenly she was gone. She disappeared into the Nightside, and none of us ever saw her again, though we all searched for her in our various ways ... Charles retreated into his old obsession about the true beginnings of the Nightside and drank himself to death, despite everything Mark and I could do to help. We did try. I'm sure we did. But he shut us out; and all the time he watched his young son as though John was something that might turn on him. Mark and I kept an eye on John, from a distance, looking out for him when we could. We intercepted quite a few attacks from the Harrowing, until John was old enough to fend for himself."
    "Does John know that?"
    "I never asked him."
    "But... what's bringing his mother back now?"
    "No-one knows for sure. If we did, we'd do ... something ..."
    'To stop her?"
    "I'm not sure she can be stopped. Sophia, why are you so interested in all this?"
    "Because I'm working with John to uncover the true origins of the Nightside. And the closer we get to the truth, the more it seems tied in to the identity of John's missing mother. Though everyone we meet has very different ideas on who she was, or is."
    "If I cared about you," said Walker, "I'd tell you to get the hell away from John Taylor. For your own sake."
    "You should stay away from us," said Pretty Poison. "I'd hate for you to get hurt,.Henry."
    Walker raised an eyebrow. "Would you? Really?"
    "Perhaps. I'm still working on this whole love thing. Call off your people, Henry. For old times' sake."
    "I can't. John's gone too far. Made himself too dangerous to the status quo.