Paper & Blood

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Paper & Blood Page 27

by Kevin Hearne


  So, for Buck, and to avenge my seven apprentices who’d died from the curse—yes, I’d do whatever it took to win. But I wanted to emerge on the other side, if any emerging was possible, with a soul lighter than the dark one that had cursed me. (Or dark ones, plural, if Gladys was correct and I’d been cursed by two people.)

  When we arrived at Nadia’s car, Ogma turned and went back into the bush without a word. He was a sulky sort in defeat. I presumed that we’d see him soon, back in Scotland to meet Gladys Who Has Seen Some Shite, and perhaps then he’d feel more talkative.

  With his unceremonious exit, Shu-hua placed the wrapped-up canvas on top of the rental car’s trunk and unrolled it. Their weapons, sigils, and phones were all in there, and Mei-ling said as they reclaimed them, “Thank the goddess that he had no wish to offend her. He treated us well for her sake and the sake of his own miserable hide.”

  “How did he capture you?” Nadia asked.

  “He used Druidry. The earth sank beneath our feet, immobilized us, and before we knew it, we were up to our necks. He took everything we had, promised to do no harm, and escorted us to that makeshift prison. We never had a chance to resist.”

  “Why did he no do that tae me, then? Or any of us?”

  “You were with me,” Connor said. “Any direct action against you, as a member of my party, would mean an action against me. That would be a violation of his oath to repay me a favor, and there were witnesses.”

  Roxanne gave a tiny nod at this, and it reminded me of another person who had witnessed a past crime—someone I had been worried about—and now I had time to inquire. I waved my hand at Hsin-ye to get her attention and typed up a question.

  [I’ve been meaning to ask: How is Cowslip?]

  “Oh, she was having a rough go of it for a few weeks, but she’s feeling much better now. Sifu Wu left her in the care of another pixie we contracted for nursing. They had plenty of food in the house—they hardly eat anything anyway—and they are highly entertained by children’s cartoons featuring fairies. They spend half their time shouting in outrage and the other half giggling at the inaccuracies.”

  [Glad to hear it. Thank you.]

  The immediate problem we faced next was that there were quite a few of us and only one car, which couldn’t possibly carry us all. Beyond that, we had a rather tremendous cleanup operation to do in the wake of Ogma’s destruction.

  “We will take care of the mess, Al,” Shu-hua said, her mind traveling ahead on the same path as mine. “It’s my territory, after all, and you need to get back to yours.”

  [Are you sure? There are quite a few casualties,] I said, looking down at Officer Campbell.

  “I know where they all are,” Ya-ping said. “At least the ones we found. I suspect there were some hikers out here who got killed and we never saw their remains. Maybe we can track them down with a barghest. And we should try to find Officer Campbell’s horse.”

  “Ye’re gonnay walk all that way back tae the car park?” Buck asked.

  “We’re going to run,” Connor said. “Now that we’re no longer searching for a threat, or hostages, and don’t need to be wary for traps, we can make good time. I’ll give everyone who comes along some stamina and speed, courtesy of Gaia, and we’ll get there very quickly. After that I can start making my way back to Tasmania.” Oberon and Starbuck whuffed and he looked down at them. “After we get you both some sausage, yes.”

  I tossed the keys to the wizard van to Shu-hua. [You’ll need those, then.] Buck’s impressive eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  “Wot? Aww. Does this mean we’re no going with them? I wanted Nadia tae see ma gallus van.”

  [We’ll have you craft another in Glasgow.]

  “I’ll make sure the van gets returned to the rightful owners,” Ya-ping said. “And maybe we can throw in some money to compensate them for the damage.”

  “Damage!” Buck exclaimed. “I think ye meant tae say improvements. Ye’re talkin’ about givin’ them money tae make it a shite tradie van again! If I was the Kaufman who owned Kaufman Electric, I’d be thankin’ us for the legendary upgrade and all the fine whisky. Human priorities are bollocks sometimes.”

  It was time for farewells. [Shu-hua, I have some sigils of yours.] I searched my pockets for all the remaining sigils that I had borrowed from her stores. The Lethe River ones might come in especially handy now. [My deepest apologies for any disorder I created in your sigil room.]

  “Please don’t worry about it, Al. I’m so grateful for your help. Thank you.”

  [Welcome. You have a very fine apprentice, who’s a credit to your teaching.]

  Ya-ping thanked me for my help and my sympathetic ear as well. Mei-ling and Hsin-ye followed up, thanking all of us for coming to rescue them, and of course they were welcome, and we knew they would do the same for us if we needed help. Nadia and I petted the dogs one last time and told them how good they were and that we owed them sausages next time. Oberon gave me a high five for that.

  The two apprentices, Ya-ping and Hsin-ye, picked up the stretcher with Officer Campbell on it.

  “What’s yer story for the polis gonnay be?” Buck asked.

  Shu-hua shrugged. “Wild-animal attacks, most likely, combined with the reassurance that the animals have been dispatched. It’s Australia. People buy the killer-creature story every time down here.”

  [It was an honor to see you again, Connor,] I said.

  “Likewise. Take care, Al.”

  Ya-ping caught the gaze of someone over my shoulder, judging by where her eyes were pointed. “Bye, Roxanne! You’re amazing, and I know your new life is going to be great!”

  I spun around in alarm, realizing that we’d made a rather egregious error. Roxanne had hung back, said nothing, and gone unnoticed during the farewells. Now she stepped up and waved cheerfully at Ya-ping just before they took off, and then gave a smaller wave to me, a tiny smile on her face.

  I had expected Roxanne to take her leave and embark on new adventures in Australia, eventually becoming Shu-hua’s problem when the term of my nondisclosure agreement expired and I was allowed to reveal her return. She defied my expectations, however, and denied me such a convenient denouement.

  She instead asked to catch a ride back to Melbourne with us.

  I agreed, nervously, which I think Nadia picked up on, judging by the glance she cast my way, but she didn’t say anything about it. My hope was that Roxanne would have us drop her off somewhere in the city and we could all finally relax for the first time in days. But that didn’t happen either. Once we hit the outskirts of Melbourne, Nadia brought the situation to a head.

  “So where would ye like me tae drop you off, Roxanne?” Nadia asked, looking over her shoulder from the driver’s seat.

  “Oh, I’m going with you back to Scotland.”

  “You are?”

  I froze, and Nadia’s eyes flicked to me, a furrow between her brows.

  “Yes,” Roxanne said. “I assume you’re taking a way back that is not an airplane and is in fact much faster.”

  Nadia’s eyes widened in surprise. “Al? Who is she, really?”

  [She’s Roxanne. That’s all I can say.]

  “How does she know how we’re getting home?”

  [I cannot say.]

  My manager turned, dangerously taking her eyes off the road, and glared at Roxanne. “You have him under an oath or sumhin?”

  “I do. Al, may I assume from all that has transpired that Nadia is familiar with your world and mine?”

  [She is.]

  “Then I will tell her myself. Nadia, I am now Roxanne, but in my previous incarnation I was known by many names. Most famously, perhaps, as the Morrigan.”

  “The Morrigan? You’re the actual fucking Morrigan? No wonder I got such a strange vibe from ye.”

  “I was the Morrigan. I no longer w
ish to be her, because that identity comes with certain unsavory baggage. I would like to live a different life. In Scotland.”

  “In Scotland? With us?”

  “In Scotland, but in my own accommodations. Something satisfactory will no doubt present itself. But, Al, I shall require your help to secure my human identity. Papers are necessary in this modern age, and credit histories. Secure me these documents so that I may live as a Scottish citizen under the name of Roxanne Morrigan. I will owe you a favor in return.”

  “Aw, shite,” Buck muttered, echoing my own thoughts. One did not want to become embroiled in the currency of favors. It was why sigil agents strictly limited such trades to contracted agent services.

  [It may take some time—weeks, or possibly months—to make that happen.]

  “I can be patient, up to a point.”

  “What are you going to do as a human?” Nadia asked.

  “Find employment. Robe myself like a dark queen of ruined hopes. Fall in love, if I can. It was not truly permitted for me to do that before, so that is what I wish most. But I will not,” she said, raising a finger for emphasis, “cease to eat the hearts of men who truly offend me. Which should make falling in love a dubious proposition, I suppose. Yet I sense that meeting such a robust challenge will provide this new life much of its purpose and joy.”

  Nadia grinned. “Awright, I like you, Roxanne. If ye want tae go shopping for some dark-queen shite, I know some shops in Glasgow.”

  “That would be kind. I think…Al, if I am passing as human, may I express gratitude as a human without incurring debt?”

  [To other humans, yes. The Fae play by different rules.]

  “Then thank you, Nadia. Though…you are not entirely human, are you?”

  Nadia’s shoulders slumped and she sighed. “Naw, no entirely. It sounds bloody wild tae say it out loud, but I guess I cannae avoid it when ye’re capable of seeing the truth anyway: I’m a demigoddess.”

  “Excellent. Then I look forward to a shopping excursion in Glasgow. Though I would request that you do not reveal my old identity to anyone until after we reach Scotland. I assume we’ll be taking an Old Way?”

  [Yes.]

  “Coriander will be our escort?”

  [Yes.]

  “Another excellent test of my disguise, then. Reveal nothing to him; I am merely Roxanne.”

  “Right.”

  It took us some time to drop off Nadia’s rental and get ourselves back to the hedge near the Fairies Tree in Fitzroy Gardens, during which Buck’s thoughts bizarrely returned to the abandoned cheese.

  “MacBharrais, do ye think that fancy cheese the lovers were gonnay eat got imprinted with their love? Like, they bought it to celebrate their relationship, have a fine to-do together, and once they got to the weir, all those pheromones and psychic energy and emotions were swirling about over the cheese, and it was getting infused with their love, and then blam! They’re deid. Where did the love go, eh? Intae the cheese, I bet. Gods below, I wish I’d tried a bite of it now. I want some love cheese!”

  “Ew,” Nadia said, delivering a succinct judgment of his desires.

  “Ugh, right ye are, um…Now that I hear it, that wasnae a thing I should have said out loud. But still, ol’ man, have ye ever heard of such a thing—nearby objects or food getting psychically imprinted with emotions at the time of death? What if that cheese absorbed all the potential love they would have shared if they had lived? That would be a powerful dairy product, eh?”

  [The only imprinting of objects I’ve heard of at the time of death are essentially hauntings. Negative emotions rather than positive. And I have yet to encounter a haunted cheese, for which I am grateful.]

  “Maybe something more absorbent, then, like a sponge cake?”

  [I can’t rule it out but have not heard of anything like that. Why the interest?]

  “I just wish their love hadnae vanished so completely, that there was an option besides haunting tae leave something pure behind when we fuck off tae another state of existence.”

  [The love you give while you’re alive lingers. I still feel Josephine’s love for me, and she’s been gone thirteen years. Why are you worried about this?]

  “Because, despite ma smoldering appearance and a personal virility that far exceeds ma stature, I’m no a young hob anymore. I’m no gonnay say that every third thought is of the grave, but maybe every fifth would be fair. Especially now that I have a ticking time bomb of a curse hovering over ma heid, and that’s on top of all the many and sundry dangers ye have me facing. I’m no used tae thinking of anything but the next heist, so I may no be making any sense.”

  [You are. I get it. And positive imprints do happen, though I haven’t heard of any happening at death. Blessings, lucky charms, wards, talismans—these are all positive. But none of them, alas, is love cheese.]

  The hobgoblin only grunted and subsided after that, lost in thought, and didn’t speak again until we returned to Fitzroy Gardens and I sent a Signal to Shu-hua requesting that she arrange a pickup. She had some faery working in the city under a visa who acted as a messenger to Tír na nÓg, just as I had Harrowbean in Gin71, and said faery would let Coriander know that we required transport back to Scotland. While we waited, Buck spoke as if no time had passed at all.

  “Do ye think maybe ma uncle’s blue bollocks are imprinted with good fortune? The Troll Slayer has enjoyed a charmed existence since that time he helped us out, and while I don’t begrudge him a lick of it, I’m wonderin’ if maybe ma Aunt Prissy unconsciously imbued her gift with some good fortune. What if Cletus MacCutcheon is a jammy bastard driving around Alabama right now with a magic pair of lucky truck nuts?”

  [I wouldn’t know.]

  “Well, I’d like tae know.”

  [I will ask Diego to investigate, since it’s his territory.]

  “Will he do it?”

  [If I ask nicely, yes. He will use his enchanted monocle and view them in the magical spectrum, and if there is any sort of charm to them, he will see it.]

  “Good, good. But if he says naw, he won’t do it, tell him from me he can tongue ma fart-box.”

  There was no way I would ever say that to Diego, but at that point the Herald Extraordinary appeared among us and saved me from having to admit it. Coriander recognized Nadia and greeted her but narrowed his eyes at Roxanne.

  “Who is this?”

  “This is Roxanne,” Nadia said. “She’s had a bit of a rough go, as ye can no doubt see by the state of her clothes. She helped us out against the oilliphéist and Ogma, and she knows what’s up.”

  Roxanne nodded solemnly to Coriander. “Hello,” she said. “I am expected in Glasgow by Gladys Who Has Seen Some Shite, if you know her.”

  Coriander’s brows climbed up his forehead. “That is quite a name to be dropping. I hope you would not dare to speak it in vain.”

  “No one would.”

  That seemed to satisfy him for the most part, though it did not satisfy me at all. I still wasn’t sure who my receptionist really was, though I thought my guess a good one. But Coriander did follow up, as Nadia was not bound by any particular oath or bond to the Fae and I was.

  “Al? Can you confirm that Roxanne personally knows Gladys Who Has Seen Some Shite?”

  [She does.]

  “Good enough, then. Follow me, please.”

  We mirrored his footsteps in a line and ten minutes later stepped onto the cobbled stones of Virginia Court in Glasgow. The temperature was considerably colder and it was nighttime, but Gin71 was still open. Coriander took his leave, citing other pressing duties, leaving the four of us standing there, a bit unsure of what came next. An idea came to me, however.

  [May I buy you a drink, Roxanne? A toast welcoming you to Scotland, with no debt incurred or expectation of favor in return.]

  “You may.”

&n
bsp; We found a table, and Harrowbean—or, rather, Heather MacEwan—came over to take our order. I said I’d order from the menu to let her know that I was there socially and not on any Fae business she needed to attend to. We spent some time discussing flavors, tonics, and garnishes with Roxanne before settling on something appropriate for a welcome: Glaswegin, a gin that used Scottish milk thistle as its primary herbal distillate, garnished with an apple wedge.

  The drinks were served with the ice, gin, and garnish in a glass, and bottles of tonic on the side. I pointed at mine and typed, [Roxanne, I know what favor I’d like in return for securing you a new identity here in Scotland.]

  “Oh?”

  [Yes. If you would please pour my tonic into my glass for me, I would consider your debt to me cleared.]

  She narrowed her eyes. “That’s all? You could do that yourself. Or have your hobgoblin do it, or your manager.”

  [All true. But I’d consider it a favor if you would do it.]

  “You’re certain?”

  [Yes. I should be able to get your documents in a few weeks, but if you would do me this favor in the meantime?]

  She shrugged, poured the tonic, and set the bottle back down, expecting more to follow. I merely nodded.

  “Why’d you release me from a favor so easily? That was nothing.”

  [We just experienced in Australia what can happen when favors are held too long and called in forcefully. I’d rather avoid that path entirely.]

  She chuckled and poured her own tonic into her glass before raising it. “You are a wise man, Al.”

  I privately disagreed. If I were wise, then I would not have been so clueless as to the true identity of my receptionist. I’d have a better idea of who had cursed me and perhaps avoided being cursed in the first place. The best we can do sometimes, in absence of actual wisdom, is to simply cease being foolish. With this Australian business out of the way and Buck duly informed that we had work to do to save his life, I planned to conduct a thorough review of contracts I’d written eleven years ago and follow up on each and every one to see if the parties involved might have laid a pair of curses on my heid.

 

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