Nightside 11 - A Hard Days Knight

didn’t tell me. All he said was that my death would make him King of the Nightside.”
    “Idiot. Outsiders never keep their bargains. They don’t have to.”
    “I think we should do it now,” said Oliver. “While I’m still ... firm in my resolve. Good-bye, Mr. Taylor. When you see my children, tell them ... some comforting lie.”
    “Yes,” I said. “I can do that.”
    He closed his eyes and seemed to relax completely, as though finally putting down some terrible burden. He gave up the last thing that held him together, and when the explosion came, it was too big to see or hear. A light too bright to bear, and a sound that filled the world. I held Excalibur out before me, between my body and the blast, the point on the floor, the hilt before my face, my hands gripping the cross-piece. When the soul detonated, all I could do was hang on to the sword, blinded and deafened, torn at by forces I could barely recognise. I concentrated on my link to the gold watch in my pocket, using all my mental strength to funnel the energies through the Portable Timeslip and throw them at the Outsiders’ dimensional rift. It wasn’t difficult: once I started the process, the watch did most of the work. Otherwise, I’d never have been able to do it.
    I clung to Excalibur as the storm raged round me, hanging on like a drowning man to a raft. The raging energies seemed to keep on coming, destruction without end, power beyond belief, and myself only the smallest mote in an angry god’s eye. But the blast did end, eventually, and the world slowly came back into focus round me. I could see and hear again, left trembling and shaken by the storm that had passed. It took me a long moment to unclench my hands from Excalibur’s cross-piece and look slowly round me. The mall seemed perfectly normal, undamaged, safe and sane again. The light was very bright, and there were no shadows anywhere. I reached into my pocket and closed the gold watch.
    The Outsiders had been thrown back into Darkness, and Humanity had been saved because one man had given up his soul to do it. But he shouldn’t have had to. My mission wasn’t over yet. There was still justice to be administered. Justice, and vengeance.
    I made my way back through the Mammon Emporium, then took a moment to compose myself before strolling outside to give the waiting crowd the good news. They all looked pretty relieved; presumably, they’d heard something of the explosion inside. I put their minds at ease with a few well-chosen words, and when I told them it was safe to go back inside again, they actually gave me a loud cheer before rushing right past me into the mall to resume their interrupted shopping.
    Business as usual, in the Nightside.
    As the onlookers in the crowd began to disappear, I raised my voice.
    “Is Bijou de Montefort here?”
    Everyone looked round, sensing that the evening’s excitement might not be over yet. A small group of business owners came forward, half encouraging and half driving forward one Bijou de Montefort. He was an average-size, average-looking man, nothing remarkable about him at all, save perhaps that he was better tailored than most. He looked entirely defiant as he was brought to a halt before me and shook off the encouraging hands.
    “I had time for a nice little chat with the soulbomber, before he went off,” I said pleasantly. “He had a lot to say about you and how you planned to profit from his suicide. Did you really think you could bargain with the Outsiders and hold them to their agreement? Were you really ready to see us all die, so you could be King of Shit Heap?”
    “You can’t trust anything that man said,” de Montefort snapped. “He was clearly mentally disturbed, or he wouldn’t have made himself into a soulbomb.” He met my gaze unflinchingly and actually seemed to grow in confidence as he listened to himself. He still thought he could talk his way out of this as he always had before. “You have no proof, Taylor, and no evidence, now that your only witness is dead. And I would advise you to choose your next words very carefully. I can afford the very best lawyers to protect my good name.”
    “Lawyers?” I said. “We don’t need no stinking lawyers! Haven’t you heard? I’m the new Walker. And this is Excalibur!”
    I drew the sword, and the long blade appeared immediately in my hand, its golden light flaring brightly in the night. Everyone watching gasped and cried out. I slammed one hand onto de