There was a breeze, and it brought to him the smell of food. Cheese, he thought, and maybe bread. And there was softness beneath him, and he was dry. Kyle opened his eyes slowly and blinked against the thin shafts of light slipping in through the curtains. Someone in the room moved, and he heard a voice: "You're awake?" It was Seeks-the-Moon.
"I think so…" Kyle remembered-or had he dreamed it?-of spinning and of a place cold and wet "Where am I?" He felt sore and tired, but whole.
"An obvious question," the spirit answered slowly, the timbre of his voice deep and strange. "You are in someone's home. I know not whose."
"I take it the owner isn't home?" Kyle turned his head slightly and saw the spirit sunk deep in a large, old chair, the light from the window cutting a bright slit from his eye to his knee. He seemed older. But also seemed to fit somehow with the shabby, sparse furnishings of the room and the fine cracks that ran down its walls. An open door revealed a narrow hallway and a faded, threadbare rug.
The longer Kyle studied Seeks-the-Moon, the more he could see that the spirit was different. His face seemed older, harder, but the eyes were brighter, more blue than he remembered. And his clothes were different, subtly; darker and more beat-up, but at the same time the colors truer.
The owner is dead," the spirit said. "I believe it was she I found down the hall."
"The bug spirits?"
“No, her own kind." Moon's face betrayed no emotion. "She did not die well."
Kyle tried to sit up slightly, but he was too weak. The pain in his leg was only a dull throb, but the rest of his body felt like it was made of wet clay. Two dogs barked at each other somewhere outside.
"You have been very sick," Seeks-the-Moon told him. "I attempted to heal you as best as I could, but I'm afraid what you taught me wasn't enough to restore you to full health."
"How long have I been out?"
"It's been two days since I found you. You were on the street for at least four days."
"A week?" Kyle said. "It's been a week?"
"Six days." There was an odd stillness in Seeks-the-Moon, a tension Kyle could not place.
Kyle tried to sit up again, and this time the pain in his leg made itself known, shooting through him and collapsing him back onto the creaking bed. "Beth," he said, "do you know what…"
"No, I don't," the spirit said quietly.
Kyle propped himself painfully up on one elbow. Even that simple exertion left him weak and nearly faint. "I have to find out if she and Natalie are all right"
The spirit didn't move, but a slight touch of sadness slipped into his expression. "You are far from where they might be, and too weak to travel. You wouldn't survive the journey."
Angry, Kyle tried to shout at the spirit in his mind, but the cry went nowhere. There was no connection between them. No channel, no empathy, nothing. Kyle stared at Seeks-the-Moon, and remembered the emptiness he'd felt behind the dumpster. And the emptiness he felt now…
"You're free…" he said, slowly.
Seeks-the-Moon glanced away, and then nodded. "Your injuries were great. I believe you came as close to death as someone could without dying. You lived," he said, "but I became free."
"I see," said Kyle, and the spirit tilted his head slightly, moving his eye out of the shaft of light. It still gleamed back at Kyle, reflecting the light that reached it.
"What will you do?" Seeks-the-Moon asked him after a moment
"What will I do? I don't understand."
"Will you attempt to regain control of me?"
Kyle stared as the spirit went on speaking.
"You created me. You have the right"
"I don't think I could."
"That doesn't matter. What matters is whether you want to."
Kyle lay back down on the bed and brought his arm up across his eyes. What did he want? What could he do? What had happened? "I don't know,” he said. "I need time to think." He needed real sleep.
"And the longer you think, the more you will heal, and the stronger you will be," said Seeks-the-Moon.
"Yes," said Kyle. And I'll have gained the strength to contest you, Kyle thought. And you know that
But there was silence, and the spirit allowed him to sleep.
The next time he awoke, suddenly, his mind rushing blindly between the last pieces of a dream and reality, there was a woman sitting in the chair Seeks-the-Moon had been occupying. She seemed familiar, and in the confusion and the dim reddened light that slipped in from outside, she was Beth. He moved toward her, and she faded away, slipping into the shadows of the chair as he woke fully.
Kyle shook his head and ran his fingers through the days of beard growth on his face and through the dirty, greasy tangle that was his hair. He felt rested, but there was still a dull ache through his body, but only that. He turned his senses inward and examined himself. He was immediately surprised. The deep wounds he had felt while lying on the street were gone, healed, no longer anything more than sharp echos in his flesh. Even his leg was healed, the bone joined and solid again. He could tell, though, that it would still be painful for a few more days at the very least.
He felt strong, or at least stronger, and very hungry. From outside came the sound of gunshots, three of them in quick succession, coming from perhaps a block or two away. Moving as carefully and quietly as he could, Kyle swung his legs off the bed and stood.
Again, he was surprised at the strength in his limbs. Looking down at his body, he noticed for the first time that he was wearing somebody else's clothes, but he felt each of his magical foci present, except for the knife. Despite his apparent strength and health, he moved carefully to the window and parted the dulled and dirty blinds. It was sunset, nearly twilight, and the street was empty but for the blackened and charred wreck of a Honda minicar turned on its side against the far curb. That and dozens of bright red sheets of paper that caught the wind and swirled.
If this side of the street matched the one opposite, Kyle thought he must be in a room on the second floor over a small storefront. The ones he could see across the way showed signs of major looting and destruction, their windows smashed and doors flung open.
"You don't want to stand there too long," came the voice of Seeks-the-Moon behind him.
Kyle let the blinds close and turned toward the spirit.
Moon was standing next to the chair. "How do you feel?"
"Better than I should, I suspect," Kyle said. "Like I've been through a car crash, but I walked away."
He nodded. "It's been a few days."
"How long since I last woke up?"
Seeks-the-Moon frowned slightly and looked away, thinking. "Two days."
Kyle sat down on the edge of the bed. He glanced toward the window and then back at the spirit. "What the frag is going on?" he asked quietly.
"You found the main nest, certainly for the region, maybe even for the whole continent," he said. "When you attacked they…"
The spirit looked away for a moment.
Kyle leaned closer. "What?"
"They spread," said Seeks-the-Moon, still looking away.
"What do you mean?"
Seeks-me-Moon shrugged. "They're insects. Their nest was disturbed. They sought shelter elsewhere."
"Oh Jesus…"
The spirit nodded. "They're all over the city, and many people are dead or else wish they were."
"Aren't the police or corps able to control them?" Kyle asked him.
"There are thousands."
"What about the government?"
'They have done something," said Seeks-the-Moon. They have sealed off the city."
"What? That doesn't make sense," said Kyle.
Seeks-the-Moon pointed at a folded, water-stained sheet of bright red paper sitting on the bedstand. "They dropped those all over the city."
Kyle took the sheet and carefully unfolded it, suddenly afraid. It said:
People of Chicago!
By order of the federal government. This city has been quarantined until further notice. Remain in your homes. Stay off the streets unless absolutely necessary. Watch for food and supply drops in your area.
Please do not try to leave the area. The government is taking every measure to control the creatures that threaten you. Until your safety can be guaranteed please remain in your homes and follow all instructions.
Kyle shook his head. It made no sense. Why weren't government troops patrolling the streets? "Why haven't they declared martial law and moved in?" he asked. "Why did they seal it off?"
"How were they to fight?" Seeks-the-Moon asked. "These things are not of this world. Spirits have nothing to fear from bullets or hand grenades. The soldiers could not defeat what they were not strong enough to even fight."
"The Eagle Security troopers I was with fought them," Kyle said angrily. “The Knight Errant troops were fighting them."
"There were many more of the police than there were of the spirits," Seeks-the-Moon said. "And the Knight Errant soldiers are dead."
Kyle started and stared at him.
The spirit nodded. "You, and maybe some others, though I didn't see them, survived."
"How many have gotten out?" Kyle asked.
"None-the soldiers are dead."
"No, I mean how many people have gotten out through the lines?"
"Few."
"Few?"
"The government isn't letting anyone out. They're afraid of contamination."
Kyle started to reply, but then shut his mouth quickly as the truth sank in. "They can't tell who's been possessed by the bugs," he said slowly. "They have no way of knowing who's clean and who's not…"
"A magician could tell," said Seeks-the-Moon. "As we did. But how many do they have? How good are they? Can they trust the results? What if they're wrong?"
"This is insane…"
The spirit shrugged. "They're afraid."
Kyle turned his eyes toward the window and the city outside. "We have to be sure they know what's happened." He looked at Seeks-the-Moon. "You could fly through astral space to the lines and talk to them."
"No, I cannot do that."
Kyle stared at him.
"I am at risk, even now," Moon said. "And in some ways I am a risk to you as well. The insects can smell me. If I were to attempt to fly through astral space, they would sense me and be on me in an instant." The spirit paused, and then said, "I have tried."
Kyle was astounded. "There are that many?"
Seeks-the-Moon nodded. 'There are stories of the insect spirits grabbing people and taking them away. Nobody knows where, but they're not killing them. At least not right away."
"So they have a new nest."
Seeks-the-Moon nodded. "And soon, within days perhaps, there will be many, many more of them."