This victory in life shit sucks ass, Poug.
Inspection finished, Ceinwyn handed the fake over to me. A deep sigh came with it, thin-fingers clasping together like they needed to hold on to something else but there was nothing present.
“Was that disappointment?” I asked, a bit on edge that she might pull the plug.
“Yes,” she admitted with a whisper, ignoring me as she took her Lenses off and put them away in a pocket, only to shift back up towards the street and all the cars slowly driving by. Ignoring me like I ignored her. Suppose if she’s too much authority for me then I’ve always been a bit too much rebellion for her.
“Not good enough then?” I thought over my process of creating the Fakeshin Dim, tried to spot the flaw. Can’t imagine doing better in so little time. Maybe if I had a month, but even then . . . would need a lot more experimentation to start getting it correct. “Did I make a mistake? I thought the switch was pretty tricky and it looked exact to me. Figured it would take even Paine five to ten minutes to notice that the geo-anima ain’t as thick as it should be if it was actually holding all the guts it’s supposed to. But—”
“It’s very good, King Henry,” Ceinwyn said, stalling my rant. “Extremely good. Well made, vibrant with anima. I’m very impressed with it and it’s already been a very impressive week from you.”
Oh. If it wasn’t that she thought I hadn’t done a good enough job then that meant . . .
“You thought I couldn’t, that it?” I growled an accusation. “This was all a charade to buy you more time. To convince me to do things your way.”
“No. Yes. Some perhaps, but more complicated,” she admitted. “I hoped it would be an easy out for us. Hoped . . . you would fail so I could just wash my hands of this decision. Not just take it away from you, but take it from myself as well.”
A startling admission from a woman liked to manipulate people more than most vampires. “That ain’t like you.”
“I have always trusted my instincts, my knowledge of the world, my place in it, the place where I wanted you to go and Valentine to go and so many more,” Ceinwyn spoke softly, so soft it was hard to hear with the cars grinding and honking away. “Now, thanks to you, I know my knowledge of the world is inadequate. Now, thanks to you, I haven’t a clue where you or Valentine will end up. Now, thanks to you, I feel . . . maybe not a child, but a student. A teenage girl falling in love for the first time. A young woman hearing that love was lost to her forever.”
Silence.
Not the silence of contemplation we usually shared, but the silence of dread, of responsibility thrust on both of us.
“Think we would’ve got along if we were in the same class?” I asked to lighten the mood. “As teenagers?”
Got a wan smile from her at the very idea. “It was very different when I was a student. Smaller classes for one. More intimate. An even stronger Ultra-Intra divide, believe it or not. I think you and Amis would have gotten along. Even you and Obadiah. Now that thought must horrify you, but he was so brilliant, so gifted. So bullied too. I could see you defending him when we were all Singles and some Quad pushed him into a pool.”
“What about Moira Jenkins?” I couldn’t help myself.
She thought for awhile. “Merge Hope Hunting and Naomi Gullick, then perhaps you would have her as a teenager.”
“Well . . . that combination would’ve gone really well for me or really bad,” was all I could say.
Which got her to bark a laugh at least and seemed to bring some tranquility back to her bearing. “Yes. Very bad.”
“And you as a teenager?” I pushed.
“I was the most Old Mancy of Old Mancy, King Henry. You would’ve hated me. I didn’t mean to look down on anyone, but it was all so easy for me that . . . well, I was insufferable. A showoff, a know-it-all. Imagine Valentine without her empathy.”
“Not how I imagine you now,” I told her.
She nodded at this. “I grew too. Proof you can manage the climb, don’t you think?”
“Sounds rough from what I’ve heard about it.”
“Indeed. The day I killed Obadiah Paine was the day I gave up on being human, when I decided to be a force, a force that would make it her life’s work to guarantee it never happened again. I buried it all with him . . . and with Amis. Now he’s back and I feel . . . for the last day I’ve felt so very human, so very fallible. I’m not driven by foresight, by wisdom, by knowledge, I’m driven by rage, King Henry.”
I grunted.
So worried about her authority I never wondered if it might go the other way.
Much as I hate authority, I do find ways to check myself. Paine . . . Paine was unleashed, unchained, pure fucking chaos. Some men just like to see the world burn . . . but even then you still got ashes. Paine was beyond that. Paine was . . . oblivion.
Happy to end the world, as long as it’s him gets to do the ending.
Long as he gets himself that one moment where everyone else in existence has to acknowledge his supremacy.
So he gets to watch us beg as he presses the button.
“That look,” Ceinwyn whispered. “I hate seeing it on your face. I used to catch it in the mirror after Amis died. Always thought it was grief, but it’s not grief. I lost the ability to grieve as a little girl, I think. All those months when I was covered with it. Drowned by it. No, it’s something else, something to do with him . . .”
“It’s a human wondering if they have what it takes to go far enough to beat madness,” I told her. “Being I’ve been fighting madness these last years, don’t see why I shouldn’t take on the personification of it too.”
More silence as we watched the cars go by.
I flipped the Fakeshin Dim up and down in one hand like it was a baton.
“Never stops, does it,” Ceinwyn repeated from way on back. “No, it doesn’t. Always another problem. Solve General Relativity and you still have to take on quantum mechanics.”
“You comparing me to Einstein? You know my head is already pretty big . . .” I tried to tease her.
She finally glanced away from the road, ageless eyes damn near consuming me. “You’ve come so far, King Henry. I’m so proud of you. So proud I started this with you.”
“Damn it, Ceinwyn,” I growled, “I can’t stay guarded and shit if you throw emotion at me like this.”
The first flash of a full smile appeared before it was snuffed out, same as the other. “I did warn you I’m very human right now.”
“You try to hug me again and I’ll kick you,” I warned her.
Another flash of smile. “Deal.”
“Would also like some type of idea on whether this mission is going down or not,” I kept leading.
She considered it in some more silence, only punctuated by troubled sighs and shakes of her head.
“So glad I do what I want to do without feeling so fucking guilty about it,” I finally goaded her.
“But I want more than what you want, don’t you see? How I want him dead, King Henry, how I want to kill him again,” she admitted. “Again and again and again. It’s not about guilt, it’s about a lack of trust. There’s a part of me that would see all of us destroyed to kill him and how can I know if that’s the part leading me to saying ‘yes’ or not? I’ve been struggling with it since you said his name. I want it so much . . .”
Blew out my own sigh. Wasn’t used to being the one giving Ceinwyn the therapy session. Also pretty sure I’m the worst therapist anyone could ever pick. “Why I keep Val around, stop me from going that far. You, you just trained yourself to do it. Be ageless, be emotionless, be what they think of you as the Last True Dale. Stop the little emotion of everyday, but the big emotion, the moments that matter? Me, I have so much trouble with this shit, I’m always struggling, always ripping them apart and trying to understand them, understand King Henry. Forget Paine, could say that I consume myself every day . . . struggle through every interaction. Your way is better for integrating into normal society, but
. . . here’s the downfall, Ceinwyn.”
“You aren’t helping,” she got sarcastic.
“Words ain’t ever been my strong point. Fists, gifts . . . note on the mountainside apparently. Have tried to help you. Have tried to hold up my end of the bargain. Pulled in the Welfs. Still iffy on Vega, but I think he’ll send something. Did a damn fine job making that fake too.”
“Moira von Welf and Horatio Vega . . . with allies like these . . .”
“Didn’t want to make trouble for Eva, don’t trust Falschein or the Tsar enough for something this big, and Annie ain’t well. So . . . yeah, ain’t as big of a team as I’d like. As already examined, Mama Welf was in the same class as you all, sure she’d like a piece for old time’s sake, then you figure he did want to assassinate her . . . don’t think Moira von Welf is the forgiving type. Vega . . . don’t want him being part of it, but he is family . . . more now than ever what with JoJo finally knocked up.”
“And how long before Obadiah realizes that’s a fake?” she prodded.
“Five minutes,” I tried to be optimistic. “Maybe six if your presence distracts him.”
“I never underestimate Obadiah, so we’ll call it four minutes. Four minutes to detach enough from the exchange so we can fight a retreat without being overwhelmed by his Wilders,” she thought aloud. “Still assuming he doesn’t just kill us . . .”
“Well, he tries that then this was all for naught and we’re fighting to the death anyway. So best not to plan for the shitshow.”
“Maybe you’re right. Also, knowing Obadiah . . .”
“He wants recognition. Needs witnesses even, to better spread the fear of him that way, the awe of him.”
Easy to see the conflict in Ceinwyn’s face now, as she fought with her desires and all those emotions she kept down for years.
“Could let me go alone if that’s what it takes,” I risked when she hadn’t said anything for awhile.
A Ceinwyn Dale smile finally formed, refusing to disappear. “No, I won’t risk your future, or any of your futures. You’re being babysat by Auntie Badass and you’ll deal with it.”
“That mean it’s a go?” I got a tiny bit hopeful.
“Susan Price . . . a mancer,” she mused instead. “The Recruiters failed your family deeply, King Henry.”
“Found me at least.”
“Barely in time. Your mother . . . Susan. A Bonegrinder. What a loss.”
“She’s still alive,” I reminded sharply. “Saving her from Paine is just the beginning. Then I got to cure her.”
Felt Ceinwyn’s hand reach up and linger over my shoulder, only to fall away. “Yes, of course you do. A Special Dispensation for Susan will hardly be much more compared to the rest of the deal I’m putting together for you with the Guild and the Learning Council, will it?”
“Oh yeah, them.”
“No, King Henry,” she finally told me, “It never stops. Next the Curator, then we deal with politics yet again. Are you ready for it?”
“Sure I’ll work out something equitable with the Guild, no problem.”
“I don’t like that tone.”
I ignored her fears, mostly because I wasn’t yet sure how I would handle Massey, though handle him I’d have to. “We go for launch?”
“Four minutes?”
“He’s good. Really good.”
“I do remember that about him.”
“Try not to paper-cut his balls when you see him tomorrow, okay? Be an awesome distraction, but I don’t think it will go over very well.”
“You realize that even though I’m agreeing to this, that I’m still in charge, right?” she cautioned me before I got too far ahead of myself.
“Sure.”
“You have to follow my orders.”
“Hey, I’m great at following orders, just ask anyone. Except for Welf.”
“Yes, how many of his Winter War plans was it you overruled?”
“Only like half. Reason why we didn’t win every match.”
She gave me an eye-see-you sign. “No improvisations.”
“I would never,” I thought I was telling the truth.
To be cliché about it: Obadiah Paine had his own plans.
Lucky for us, King Henry Price thinks best when his back is up against a wall and he’s got nowhere else to go but off the cliff.
Been falling down this Pit so long, don’t even remember what it was like before I jumped.
[CLICK]
Day wasn’t over.
Week of long days and that one might have been the longest.
People like to lie to themselves and say battles are won in the moment, by who’s braver or stronger or smarter or shit like that. Some truth to it, but lot of myth as well. Just as much about preparation and logistics and how much power you can bring to bear and how quickly you can wield it and how well one machine of death works with all the other machines of death.
Can be simple.
Can be the fact you got four Maximi on your side.
Can be more complex. So complex, it’s the smallest of edges that wins the day for you. Could be me handing out SDRs and other artifacts like they were candy. First time I ever gave Vicky one, being as T-Bone got all nervous about the idea of arming her. Jesus already had one, but took five more. Not a recommended usage and here’s hoping he don’t use all of them on one person, but . . . should get the job done.
Dipped into my old storage to pull out spare PADs, even some of the larger, earlier versions. Reminder: stands for pyro-anima dispenser. Might not go boom or fireball, but it does flame broil everything in a five foot radius. “Never know when you need a few extra balls, dude,” Pocket told me with a grin, before depositing them all in his FIND-issued hiking backpack.
Made everyone take a Magic Wand and a pair of Cold Cuffs, even if they were the vampire sex toy variety with pink fur. Vicky, scarily enough, took the pink as a plus, although she almost threw a fit when I made her try on my Adamantine Coat, it being an experimental version or not. It fit, even if she’s a bigger girl than most, thanks to the fact my short ass is plenty wide with lots of shoulder and neck. “Really, it’s not my color, King Henry,” she complained, “and you’re treating me like I’m some porcelain doll . . . I quite dislike it.”
“Anyone here dies and I’ll forgive myself one day,” I shot back at her, “you even lose a pinky and I’ll never forgive myself. So wear the damn coat, Vick.”
“Why not give it to Valentine?”
Jesus, nearby trying on a One Second Blade, snorted at that idea. “Still thinks of her as Valentine, El Rey, wait till she sees Boomworm in action making all the putas explode. Then she’ll know who’s the badass of the couple, right?”
“You’ll be in the back, Val will be in the front,” I tried another more logical tact with Vicky, “I’ll be able to break the guns might be aimed at her, but not at you. This is the only way I can protect you, Vick, so take it and stop arguing. You being bulletproof will calm everyone down, T-Bone included.”
“Fine, fine, you win,” she said as I got a hug, I assume for the sentiment, although Vick rarely needs a reason. “But I’m putting an illusion on it so it’s pretty and not brown and you can’t stop me!”
Jesus’ opinion on how my girlfriend would comport herself or not, I still worried. “Don’t look at me like that,” Val told me while we were going through discarded artifacts trying to find anything that might be useful.
“Your own fault, wanting me to love you. See what you got to put up with?”
Earned a smirk and a kiss. “I’ll be fine.”
“Suppose you will be . . . as long as you don’t hold back.”
That stopped her, hand on my old Aero-Fan. “I won’t hold back,” she eventually promised.
“Fireball of Doom won’t hold back or flames out of your asshole won’t hold back?” I tried to make light of it.
She laughed. “Remind me to try that one at my next birthday party to light the candles.”
“Do
have something I’d like you to take . . .”
Laughter stopped as her dark eyes went guarded. “You aren’t about to give me one of those gifts that is so poignantly emotional that I can barely breathe for a minute, are you? Because you can’t do that twice in one week, it’s not fair!”
“Not sure it’s so much a gift as responsibility actually . . .”
“This where you tell me what you’re up to?”
“Nah, saving that for when we’re cuddling.”
“What is it then?” she asked. “And remember: only cuddling. Mostly sleep.”
“Got a powernap in during the shower, feeling like I could—”
“Only cuddling, mostly sleep.”
With a sigh, I led her over to another workstation where Mini waited for us.
“If you start talking about how I have to take care of your dog after you die—” she immediately didn’t like where this was heading.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be the one gets the Fireball of Doom. Don’t worry, ain’t that. Plus, he mostly takes care of himself.”
I am not a dog, Fire Queen! Mini protested on his shield. I was sent by the Great One to defend the King of Dirt and I shall go with you into battle against the Broken One!
Val turned to me. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m not. He is.”
“His golem barely even works . . . if it was like one of the security golems maybe, but it’s a one-foot-tall knight without a sword and—
“It was my first time, the next one is going to be a whole lot more awesome, trust me.”
She smiled mischievously. “Like my first time . . . when you threw up in the corner?’
I glared at her.
She worked very hard not to laugh.
“Do you remember the second time? Do you remember when you went ‘oh’? And then you bit my shoulder while you did that little groaning sound? Gonna be like that.”
Battle! Mini tried to remind us. Victory!
“But you haven’t built it yet, so it’s just like the throw up corner,” Val pointed back at me.
I am a knight, not regurgitation!
“No, but I do have an experimental GOB that he can ride in and I’d like you to wear it. Might be big on you and hang a little lopsided, but you got some nice hips on you and well . . . Valentine Ward can make anything look good.”
The Pit of No Return (The King Henry Tapes Book 6) Page 67