Grim Tides (Marla Mason) (35 page)

Jason picked up the cup, took a sip, swallowed, then passed it back. “If it is, we’re all in this together.”

Marla took a sip of her own. “Why did you want to meet me, Jason? You were the only member of the murder squad who got to walk away clean. So what are you doing here?”

“I’ve spent the past few months living in fear of you, Marlita. Afraid you’d hunt me down, or send a gargoyle or a werewolf or something to kill me. I’m sick of the fear. If you’re going to kill me, I’d rather get it over with.”

“Fair enough,” Marla said. “It’s not on my agenda this morning, though.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Jason said. “Why did you try to reach me, a few days ago? I’d never even heard of Elsie Jarrow when I got the call from mom, telling me you’d been in touch. So what did you want?”

“It’s a magic thing. I heard a prophecy, sort of, that said you would try to kill me, and die yourself in the process. I was going to call and tell you not to get involved with Nicolette, and not to come to Hawai’i. That it wouldn’t end well for you. Fortunately, I messed with causality enough to keep you from dying anyway, but I wasn’t sure how things would turn out.”

Jason took a slow sip of coffee, both hands on the mug. “You wanted to warn me? To save my life?”

Marla nodded.

“All this time I’ve been hiding in shithole towns, trying to avoid detection. Once I heard you survived that... thing that happened between us... in Felport, I figured you’d come gunning for me. I mean, you’re a crime boss. Or you were.”

“Not really. I was a
protector
, Jason. Any crime that happened was strictly incidental.”

“Funny. You being a protector. I mean...”

“Because you were the one who protected me, when we were kids? From mom’s ten thousand drunken boyfriends and their roaming hands. Yeah.” Marla’s feelings about her brother were complicated. He was probably a psychopath – certainly he’d murdered at least a few times without any hint of regret. But he’d defended her when she was young and vulnerable, turning his cunning and his brutality toward keeping her innocence intact. “Listen, Jason. I know we tried to kill each other a few months back. But something... strange happened to me, not long ago. I know this magic stuff freaks you out, but listen. You know about parallel universes? Worlds like our own, except things are just a little different, and those little differences snowball into big changes?”

“Like places where the South won the Civil War, or Hitler didn’t have a mustache,” Jason said. “Like that?”

Marla nodded. “I met a version of myself from another universe. She was... seriously messed-up. She let herself get pushed around and used by evil forces. She was turned into a monster – basically, she became everything I hate. And it turns out, the thing that was different about
that
universe, was
you
. You died as a little kid over there, so you were never around to protect her – this other version of
me
– from all the things you saved me from in
this
reality. I know we’re not friends now. I know you don’t consider us family, anymore – that I became dead to you the moment I refused to help you bury a body and ran away from home. But I know that I literally would not be the woman I am without you. You saved me from things you didn’t even know you were saving me from.”

“Magic,” he muttered. “I should think it’s interesting. I should be trying to figure out how to make a profit off it. But really it just makes my fucking skin crawl.”

Marla nodded. “Sometimes? Me too. As far as I’m concerned, this thing between us, the fact that you tried to kill me, the fact that you shot Rondeau, even this bullshit with Jarrow... we’re square. I owe you that much. Go live your life.” She leaned forward, and looked into his eyes, which were so much like the eyes she saw in the mirror every day. “But don’t fuck with me again, Jason. Even alone, without resources, away from home, outnumbered and outgunned, I
still
won.”

“Of course you did,” Jason said, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You’re a Mason.”

Marla snorted. “So is mom, and she never won at much of anything.”

“Not true. She still brags about that wet t-shirt contest she won when she was twenty-two.” Jason smiled, more openly this time. “You must have
really
wanted to protect me, if you called her. I can’t believe it.”

“I can’t believe
you’re
still in touch with her.”

“She’s always good for an alibi,” Jason said. He dropped a few bills on the table. “I guess that’s it, then. You don’t try to kill me, and I don’t try to kill you.”

“It’s a start. Maybe we can work our way up to Christmas cards.”

“Anything’s possible,” Jason said, and walked out of her life again.

Back in her room, pretending she’d never left, Marla heard a tentative knock on the connecting door. “Come in!” she said, but couldn’t quite shout. Rondeau and Pelham shuffled in, followed by Reva, who looked almost as tired as Marla felt. He was still wearing his filthy clothing. Apparently when he made a body he only conjured one set of clothes, and didn’t think to buy or borrow more. Gods were such morons in some ways.

“I can order us some room service,” Rondeau began, but Marla shook her head.

“Sit with me on the balcony. I’ve figured out some things.” Once they’d joined her, Pelham and Rondeau sitting, and Reva leaning against the balcony, Marla took a deep breath. “I’m leaving Hawai’i. Not immediately – I have a couple of things to settle, we need to catch Lupo, and the surfers still owe me a secret and a trick for solving that murder – but soon.”

“Where to?” Rondeau said. “I hear good things about the Caribbean. Or were you thinking skiing?”

“I’m thinking... no fixed address. With Felport closed to me, I don’t have a home anymore. The home I chose rejected me, and, okay, I can even see why. And when you came back, Pelham... I realized how limited my world has been. I left Indiana and went straight to Felport, and that’s where I stayed. I traveled a little as a mercenary and an apprentice, but they were always
missions –
I never got to really experience the places I went. Seeing how travel has expanded your horizons got me thinking, Pelham. It used to be, I was the worldly one, and you were the guy who’d never left home. But now, you’ve seen more than I have. I want to get out in the world, too. To stop looking for a fort to defend, or a rock to hide behind.”

“So we’re talking world tour?” Rondeau said.

Marla shook her head. “We’re talking me, going from place to place, either flipping a coin or throwing darts at a map, and just... seeing what I find. Hoping I find something that resonates with me. And, for all that I think Reva is a meddling jackass, the way he lives appeals to me. Go to a place, learn to love it a little, and help the people there who need helping.” She glared at the god as he began to grin. “But only people who
want
my help. Or who I’m pretty sure would want my help if they were thinking straight.”

Rondeau whistled. “Wow. So you’re just going to... walk the Earth? Like Jules from
Pulp Fiction
?”

“I think so. I mean... I’m happy when I get in a fight, but only when I’m fighting for something that matters. I’m kind of a crap detective, but I’m a pretty good guardian. I protected Felport, didn’t I? So... maybe I can protect other places, too. Other people. Maybe wherever I
am
can be the place I protect. It seems like that would keep me occupied.”

“I’m getting the sense I’m not invited,” Rondeau said.

“You want to go? Walking, or hitchhiking, or hopping trains? Never knowing where you’ll be tomorrow? Sleeping rough? No massages? I’d love to have you – apart from just enjoying your company, which I grudgingly admit, you’re a psychic, and you’d be a great asset – but you’ve sacrificed enough for me.””

“Hmm. How about I stay here and provide tactical support,” Rondeau said. “You know. Materiel. Intel. Other things that end in ‘el.’ I can be your wealthy patron.”

“That would be great,” Marla said.

“May I accompany you, Mrs. Mason?” Pelham said.

Marla smiled. “Are you kidding? I need a seasoned traveler to show me the ropes. Otherwise I’ll end up eating with the wrong fork or breaking a local taboo or accidentally marrying a guy I just wanted to sleep with. Plus I’m lousy at languages. I can’t think of a traveling companion I’d rather have.”

“I was really hoping that the occult detective thing would work out,” Rondeau said. “Oh well. Mind if I rent out the bookshop?”

“I was only ever a squatter anyway. Suit yourself, if you can find a deed.”

“Oh, Marla. It’s like you’ve never heard of forgery.”

Marla thought about how to broach the next subject, and finally decided: fuck it. Being direct had occasionally led to disaster, but there was no sense trying to change her nature. “Listen, guys, there’s something you should know. When I was back on that beach, dying – I
should
have died.”

“I wondered about that,” Rondeau said. “Jarrow’s body
did
die, and it was a sympathetic magic thing, so it seemed like you would have died, too...”

“Did the god of Death intervene on your behalf, Marla?” Pelham said.

“Ehhh... yes and no. He did restore me to life, but against his wishes, and with a fair number of strings attached. See, he
really
wants me to join him in the underworld, to reign at his side, but post-exile-angst notwithstanding, I’m not ready to leave this life yet. He was ready to schedule my coronation and polish up my throne, but I let him know that... wouldn’t make me happy.”

“If the goddess of the underworld ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy,” Reva said, grinning.

“So Death and I sat down and had a pretty hardcore negotiation, and the upshot is... I got him to invoke the Persephone clause.”

Rondeau whistled. “So what? You spend six months in the underworld, and six months on the Earth? Damn, Marla. So you’ll be wintering in Hell? I think that makes you the ultimate snowbird.”

“Ah, but I’m a sharper bargainer than Persephone ever was, or maybe it’s just because I don’t have some goddess-of-the-springtime responsibilities to complicate matters. I got Death to agree that my six months in hell can be
non-consecutive
. I owe him six months a year, but I can take them whenever I want, so I don’t have to say goodbye to seeing any season on the Earth forever. Plus, while I’m in the underworld, I don’t age. So, you know. Pretty good health-care plan.”

“Congratulation, Mrs. Mason,” Pelham said. “And, of course, also my sympathies. I know the arrangement will be difficult for you.”

“First B, now you,” Rondeau said. “My friends keep turning into gods. Why don’t I ever get tapped?”

“I’m sure the first time there’s an opening for the god of hedonistic excess, you’ll make the shortlist,” Marla said.

“You better not change, Marla. Or start putting on airs. I’m not going to address you as ‘Your Divine Shadowhood’ or anything. Does this mean you’re going to go all goth, start dressing in vintage wedding dresses or black lace and spiderwebs?”

“I was thinking a black cloak, maybe with something in a matching scythe, but I’ll have to see what the wardrobe department has in my size.”

“This is good,” Reva said. “For one thing, becoming a god yourself will help you better understand the minds of gods, and perhaps you will stop holding my interventions on your behalf against me – ”

“You, shut it,” Marla said. “And as a part-time goddess in training, I can say that to you without fear of repercussion. What I’m going to
do
is help Death and you and any other so-called higher powers I run into learn what being
human
is about. Which means I need to keep my humanity in the forefront for the half a year I’m allowed to be wholly a woman and nothing else. That’s why you’re never going to see me again while I’m up here in the world, understood? Don’t take on any guise, don’t come visit, don’t happen to be on the same hiking trail or tour of the catacombs with me,
nothing
. You now officially have a restraining order, Reva – so restrain yourself. I’ve had quite enough of your meddling. I don’t care if you meant well. I’ve learned firsthand that good intentions don’t matter much, and my husband tells me we use them for paving stones back home.”

“Marla, you’re one of my people, whether you want to be or – ”

Marla leaned forward. “Reva. You’re a genius loci with no loci, right? And I’m, at least for half the year, part of the double deity that has full power over the entire sphere of death. So correct me if I’m wrong, but: don’t I outrank you?”

“That was very royal, Mrs. Mason,” Pelham said approvingly.

Reva scowled. “It’s not like we have
ranks
, exactly – ”

Marla gave him her most withering stare. Or, at least, the most withering stare she could muster as a mortal. Apparently as a goddess she’d be able to
literally
wither things. She still wasn’t sure it was a good idea to let her wield that much power, but given that most stories about gods depicted them behaving like spoiled horny entitled spiteful children, she’d probably be better than most. “Don’t screw around with me, Reva. I’m not condemning what you do. I plan to go into the freelance do-gooding business myself. Just stop doing it to
me
. Call it a character flaw, but I don’t like people messing around with my life. Understood?”

“Yes, my queen.” Reva gave an over-elaborate bow.

“Good.” She leaned back in her chair. “There’s one favor you can do for me, as my loyal subject. I need you to go see Death, and tell him the same thing I told
you
. He isn’t to have any contact with me while I’m above ground. He gets me for half the year, and that’s
it
. I won’t have his long-view tainting my here-and-now. Plus, I’m still pissed at him for... well. I have my reasons, and he knows what they are.”

“I could do that – ”

“But listen, Reva. Take a walk with me. We need to talk. Because even though it’s probably wasted, I want to try to make
you
understand why I’m doing this – for you to try and see my reasoning from a human point of view. And I want you to tell
Death
the whole story, try and get him see it from my side, from
everybody’s
side, so he can understand there’s a whole universe of stories that don’t revolve around him, and a whole lot of things that matter other than his own convenience and contentment. He really needs to understand that people are real, all of us – every one of us – and that we mean more than just what he can
use
us for. Do you think you can do that for me?”