Grim Tides (Marla Mason) (30 page)

Marla disagreed. She had a pretty good idea how she could stop Jarrow. She’d figured out the first part last night, and had woken with an inspiration for the second part. But the cost was extreme, and if she didn’t
need
to do it... maybe Jarrow was lying. But maybe she was telling the truth. She was definitely weird, but she didn’t seem particularly out-of-control now. Last night had been weird and ugly, but it was a duel between sorcerers – those tended to be unpleasant. Jarrow wouldn’t be the only unpredictable, dangerous sorcerer in the world. And why did she have to be Marla’s problem anyway? Jarrow hadn’t escaped from Blackwing under
Marla’s
watch. Marla didn’t even have a watch anymore. If Jarrow didn’t pose a clear and present danger to Marla herself, or to anyone she cared about... “I guess you have a point,” Marla said.

“Truce, then?” Jarrow said.

“Until you give me a reason to decide otherwise.”

“Then eat your damn muffin,” Jarrow said. “Symbolism is important.”

Marla took a bite, chewed, swallowed. “How’s my brother Jason?”

“Surly. I see a family resemblance.”

“Can you tell him I don’t mean him any harm anymore? I’ll leave him alone if he leaves me alone?”

“Hmm. Maybe? I’ll think about it. Doesn’t sound very interesting, though.”

That was probably the best she could hope for. “You’ve decided not to try and kill me, but what about the rest of your merry band?”

“Oh, the hired guns will wander off. The ones with a personal grudge... well, there’s Crapsey, I would imagine you can handle him if he gets obstreperous. And Nicolette, but you’ve got her, right?”

“Tied up in a bathroom. I’d like to get rid of her, by the way.”

Jarrow gestured vaguely westward. “There’s a whole big ocean out there you could drown her in.”

“I don’t go in for casual murder, or pre-emptive self-defense, either. But it would be nice if she left me alone.”

“Tell you what,” Jarrow said. “I’ll see if Crapsey wants her back. Maybe he’ll trade Nicolette’s freedom for his good behavior? You can’t trust him, and they’ll betray you, but...” She shrugged. “It’s just Nicolette and Crapsey. Knock them out and stick them on a banana boat to the mainland, and they won’t bother you for a while.” Jarrow leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “Nicolette’s afraid of teleporting.”

“She did get her arm ripped off that way,” Marla said.

Jarrow rolled her eyes. “Such a little drama queen. She lost one arm. Big deal. She’s got
another
one.”

“Can I ask you something? What keeps you going? I mean... what’s your purpose?”

Jarrow leaned back and regarded Marla seriously. “Wow. I didn’t have you pegged as the philosopher type. What’s the meaning of life? Whatever meaning you give it, sweetums. I like seeing the world, meeting new people, and feeling the thrum of impossible energies filling my body. I’m basically a proponent of straight-up hedonism.”

“My friend Rondeau’s the same way. But for me... that’s never been enough.”

“Take up knitting, or join the Society for Creative Anachronism, or get into exotic animal rescue. You’re retired now, right? Get a hobby.”

“A hobby? Elsie, I used to have a
mission
.”

“So find one of those.” Jarrow shrugged. “The world’s full of shit. If that bothers you, don’t just bitch about it. Grab a shovel and get to work.” She grinned. “People like me will help make sure there’s always more poop for you to scoop.”

When Marla got back to her room, Death was waiting for her, sitting in the armchair by the sliding glass door to the balcony.

“You just let yourself in, did you?”

“Death can go anywhere, Marla. That’s sort of the point. I’ve seen the future – and your death is no longer imminent. Neither is Jason’s, or Nicolette’s.”

Marla sat down on the edge of the bed. “You don’t seem too thrilled about that.”

“For obvious reasons. But you don’t seem very happy, either, which surprises me.”

“For a little while there, I had some adrenaline pumping, I was having fun, but... a truce over brunch? It’s kind of anticlimactic. I always hated the diplomacy parts of my job the most.”

“Tell me, Marla – did you discover the secret of the ring?”
“Look through it, see the future. Kind of nifty, I guess. I haven’t told Rondeau about it. He’d beg me to borrow it so he could find a horse race to bet on. Like he doesn’t have enough money already.”

“I’m sure it’s less about the money, and more about the thrill,” Death said. “I’d think you could relate.”

“Ha.”

“Did you look at Jarrow through the ring?”

“Sure. I got to see her scoop eggs onto a plate whole
seconds
before she actually did it.”

Death frowned. “The ring can do rather more than give you glimpses of the immediate, Marla. If you focus on the
person
you’re watching, and let the surroundings blur, you can see farther – a view of the most likely long-term future for that individual, unfolding in a rapid flow, and by paying attention in just the right way, you can slow down and focus on particular moments. It’s quite a powerful artifact.” That last bit was rather peevish.

“Right. Sorry. It’s a beautiful ring, and... I can see how it would be very useful.”

“Perhaps, if you have the opportunity, you should look at Jarrow through it
again
.”

Marla didn’t like the sound of that. “Why?”

“You might see something that... makes you rethink your agreement.”

“Shit. You’re saying she’s going to betray me?”

Death shook his head. “Not that, not exactly, but... she is a force for chaos, Marla. She is a carrion beetle that feeds on death.”

“So? It’s none of my business.”

“Really? Well. Sometimes things get big enough that they
become
your business, whether you like it or not.” He stood up. “I should be off. But one other thing. If, in the future, you have something to say to me – just say it. You don’t need to send a messenger.”

“I have no idea what in the earthly fuck you’re talking about.”

Death’s expression became thoughtful. “Ah. I may have misjudged... if you don’t know what I mean, never mind. I was mistaken.”

“Hold on, what are you – ”

“Marla!” Rondeau burst in through the connecting door. “I offered Nicolette the bathroom like ten times, but she just crapped herself and now she’s laughing and rolling around in the tub – ” He stopped short. “Oh. Uh. Hi, Mr., uh.”

“Rondeau,” Death said, voice chilly. He pulled open a door that shouldn’t have been on the wall and stepped through. The door sort of sidled away and vanished after he closed it.

“What did he want?” Rondeau said. “Did I interrupt a godly booty-call?”

“Not exactly. He’s pretty bummed I’m not going to die anytime soon.”

A look of guilt flashed across Rondeau’s face. Marla had seen that expression on him before lately. She didn’t ask – he probably had lots of things to feel guilty about.

But Rondeau said, “Marla, I should tell you... I mean, it doesn’t matter
now
, but... Death made me an offer, back in Lahaina.”

“What kind of offer?”

“Everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” Rondeau said. “And all I had to do in return was... stand aside and let you die. He didn’t ask me to
kill
you, he just said, if it looked like you were about to get killed, if I didn’t do anything, if I didn’t try to
save
you, he’d reward me. I was never going to
do
it, but I didn’t want to tell you, didn’t want to distract you when you were in a fight for your life, but if things are cool now – ”

Marla blinked. The bottom had dropped out of her stomach. “Fucking
gods
,” she said.

That’s when Reva knocked on the door and called, “Anyone home?”

The ropes holding Pelham hostage were unpredictable in nature: they moved, they writhed, they tightened – but they also loosened. And whenever they did loosen, Pelham shifted his body incrementally to take advantage, sliding the ropes down, edging ever closer to freedom... for what it was worth. Escaping from the ropes would take hours – but he seemed to have ample time, as they’d stuck him in a closet in a bungalow overnight and well into the morning. He was one good twist away from being loose, though what he would do
after
getting loose was an open question.

Elsie Jarrow was gone to some mysterious meeting, and moments ago Crapsey had loudly announced that he was going to take a walk because Jason kept cheating at cards, which Jason denied rather mildly. Pelham wasn’t sure what Jason was doing out there. If he was napping, Pelham could escape. If he was watching the closet diligently... Pelham was fairly sure he had a gun. But two of his three captors were out of the room. When would he get a better opportunity? He –

Something moved by Pelham’s foot. He squinted in the dimness of the closet – the door was slatted, allowing in some light, so it wasn’t entirely black inside – and saw the carpet tear apart as a cone-shaped mound grew up through the floor. From beyond the door, Jason swore, and there was a thump, like a chair falling over.

The Nuno were coming. Pelham’s curse – and, in this case, potentially his salvation. Just then the ropes went briefly slack as they slithered around his body, and Pelham slipped his hands free and tore the ropes from his ankles. Jason shouted outside, and Pelham slid the closet door open just as the first cat-sized, chittering monstrosity emerged from the hole beside his feet. He ran out into the room, where Jason was whirling around, one Nuno clinging to his arm, another trying to climb his pants leg. Pelham quickly scanned the room and caught sight of a cell phone on the bedside table. He leapt over the bed, snatched up the phone, and ran for the door. “No, stop, Goddamnit!” Jason yelled. “What the fuck! I thought you weren’t a sorcerer!”

Pelham didn’t bother to explain the situation. He found Jason Mason a most unpleasant man, and hoped the Nuno would find him sufficiently entertaining to avoid pursuing Pelham. He opened the door, looked out briefly to make sure Crapsey wasn’t in sight, and started running. The bungalow was close to the beach, surrounded by verdant trees, quite idyllic, really, if he wasn’t too busy running for his life to enjoy the view. A dirt track led off to the east, and Pelham ran into the woods parallel to the track, trying to move swiftly but not too loudly. Woodcraft was not one of his greatest strengths; he’d studied the subject, but mostly on the grounds of the Chamberlain’s estate, which were not particularly wild. After he’d gone a few hundred yards from the house, and could no longer hear Jason shouting, he paused briefly in the shadow of a great tree to dial Rondeau’s number.

“You again,” Rondeau said. “Not that I don’t love talking to you, Jason, but – ”

“Rondeau! This is Pelham. I was abducted by Jarrow, and replaced with an imposter, a shapechanger named Lupo. This Lupo is wearing my face, but he
is not me
. I have escaped my captors and stolen their phone, but I am unsure of my location.” It occurred to him that the phone probably had GPS, so he said, “Just a moment, I will try to ascertain my whereabouts.”

“Pelly, wait, what the – ”

“Drop the phone, butler boy.” Crapsey appeared from the direction of the road, his face a welter of red scratches. “Those little shits you summoned were
nasty
. Elsie would approve. Definitely an eruption of the irrational. But come along home like a good little hostage.”

Pelham slipped the phone into his pocket, cracked his neck, and took a stance. “I look forward to the opportunity to repay you for your impertinence,” he said.

Crapsey cocked his head. “You’re a fighter, footman?”

“I am skilled in many martial arts. I gather you are not.”

“Nah, I usually get by on the strength of my winning personality.” Crapsey grinned, and the illusion that made his grotesque wooden jaw appear normal faded away. The jaw was inlaid with strange traceries of gold. “But I do have some other resources. Now let me see, I was trying some of the trigger words earlier this morning, and I found a really great one I’d never used before – let’s see: ‘dysmenorrhea’.”

Pelham frowned. “A troubling condition, I’m sure, but not one that seems applicable to our current – ”

Crapsey lowered his head, and his whole body trembled. His arms stretched out, growing beyond the ends of his sleeves, and his fingers and nails elongated into oversized claws. His spine curved as he hunched forward, and his wooden jaw swelled, jutting out in a profound underbite, with railroad-spike sized teeth bursting up through the wood. His eyes began to glow green, and in general he took on a profoundly bestial aspect, the stink of sulfur puffing out with his every exhalation. “Gonna – get – you,” the beast growled, and reached out with those impossibly long arms.

Pelham ran. Crapsey ran faster.

AN EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS

“Reva, get out of here,” Marla said, standing in the doorway. “I could have actually used your help last night, but you were nowhere to be seen.” She looked him up and down. “You look like crap.”

The god’s hair was sticking up in all directions, and he was streaked with soot and ashes, his clothes so filthy he looked like he’d gone crawling through a volcano’s cinder cone. “I should,” he said. “I didn’t want to give up my body – I always get so attached to my bodies – so I went to the underworld the hard way. The only local entrance to your boyfriend’s realm is in a cave way too close to a volcano. It’s dark and ugly down there, too, took me forever to find the landlord. Your husband is a pain in the ass, Marla. I just wanted to have a civil conversation with the guy, tell him to lay off with the enthusiasm about you dying, and he threw me out – ”

Marla stepped back. “You
what
? You went to talk to Death? About me?”

Reva smiled. “No need to thank me. Like I said, you’re one of my people, and I thought, as one god talking to another – admittedly much more powerful – god, I might be able to make an impression.”

Marla gripped the edge of the doorframe to keep from punching him. “
Thank
you? Who the fuck do you think you are? You went and had a talk with my boyfriend, without asking me? You think I can’t take care of myself? You condescending, patronizing shitheap, who the hell appointed you my guardian – ” Reva shrank back under her onslaught, but before she could really work up any steam, Rondeau tapped her on the shoulder.