The Mysteries of Holly Diem (Unknown Kadath Estates Book 2) by Zachary Rawlins Read Free Book Online

the Underworld and the feeding of the ghouls; stained
glass windows utilizing hues unknown to this world and invisible to the human
eye; statues of such remarkable realism that they required restraints, just to
be certain.”
    The boy seemed lost, staring out at the Empty District
as if the dark were no obstacle.
    “The artist looked upon all this, and despaired, for
his own work was less inspired. He dreamed of being able to create something
that would honor the legacy that was his birthright, but his work fell far
short of such lofty goals. Desperate for inspiration, he turned to his studio
of the oldest parts of the city, the buildings that had survived centuries and
seen too much. He poked through their ruins and basements, climbed to the roofs
and towers, looking for something that would inspire him. He found neglected
wonders and abandoned glories. And something else – a muse, for lack of a
better word, betrayed and shackled and deliberately forgotten.”
    Elijah’s voice fell, as if he feared being overheard.
    “The artist learned things, in that forgotten corner
of the city, listening to his muse spin tales of the city’s distant past, and
of the worlds that lie impossibly beyond the city, above and beneath.
Eventually, he told his muse of his dream, his desire to create something
beyond compare, something that would surpass even the creations of his
ancestors. His muse was sympathetic, and she told him of something that wasn’t;
something that could be, if enough was invested in its creation. She taught him
the arts required, to draw it across worlds and out of himself, creating an
image that would become the thing it represented – the Pallid Mask. A tool
designed to help one lose their way like an inverted compass, to grant
independence to one’s shadow, and to impart the sea cucumber’s secrets of
immortality. A mask that was both more and less than the face behind it, the
face it gradually came to replace. There were lessons within it, a wealth of
occult knowledge.”
    “You’re getting a little abstract, there, Elijah,” I
said jovially, jarring him from his reverie. “Not all of us have art degrees, you
know.”
    “Neither of us, as it happens,” he sneered, gathering
up his materials. “I apologize for wasting your time, Mr. Tauschen.”
    “You aren’t going to finish the story?”
    “To your great disappointment, I’m sure, no,” Elijah
said, with a wan smile. “I’ve had a sudden burst of inspiration – thanks to our
chat, actually.” He shoved his drawing board and folding easel under his arm,
and then took my hand and shook it limply. “Thank you for your inadvertent
assistance, Mr. Tauschen. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
    “I don’t really get you, Eli,” I admitted, bemused,
“but you’re welcome.”
    “At some later time, Mr. Tauschen, remind me to show
you my etchings,” he said, pausing at the top of the stair with a curious
expression on his face. “It occurs to me that you might be one of the few who
would understand them.”
    “Sure thing. Good night, kid.”
    He went clattering down the stairwell.
    Despite the cold, I decided a walk was in order, and
possibly a snack. I stopped by the apartment for a coat and gloves, and then
hit Leng Street, aiming myself in the direction of Sarnath, and a pizza place I
vaguely remembered being near the train station. There was an edge to the
night, and I was restless, my mind moving in directions that made me uneasy. I
was so worked up that I didn’t notice how long I’d been walking until my feet
ached and my ears stung from cold.
    I do not get lost. That’s not a brag – my brain
automatically compiles a map of my surroundings. The Nameless City offered no
shortage of ancient, maze-like neighborhoods and unfamiliar suburbs, and
eschewed the consistent use of street signs, but I had a couple years to make
sense of it all. There is simply no way that I got lost on my way to get a
slice of a