Realising that force was unlikely to ever be a deterrent or the creature's bane, they turned to their witch doctors. The witch doctors, who live apart from the tribe, gave them a soothsaying I suppose we'd describe it. The Hollowed Out Man was one who had listened to the terrible whispers of the Fallen One and was lost to all grace. That's what the witch doctors say.
Unfortunately, while any unfortunate soul so Hollowed, so to speak, can be redeemed, they must be willing to be saved. The tutelary daimon cannot overwhelm without permission. Like cleaving to Christ's side, it is a thing one must seek out willing to find redemption from. Antoinette informs me, however, that few young fighters are willing to part with such -
Stop reading.
See why Lazlo tried to censor this part. For one, Elliot and his Library goons get it, there's a weakness right there. Weapons Jon handled himself. About half-dozen of those in my rooms.
They must be willing to be saved.
Don't believe Jon was a butcher all along. I just do not fucking believe it and you cannot convince me otherwise. Do not believe he would have willingly become a monster.
But I can see Jon becoming addicted to the kind of excellence the Hollow gave him. He's gone off the scale of what human excellence can do.
No. Jon... whatever he thought, he got tricked, or he got addicted. Or something. Twenty years or more of friendship. Partnership. Know that cat like a brother. No way.
Drag on my smoke. Cough. Fucking thing tastes terrible.
iii
Night or two later. Go to see Katanya. Knuckles raised to door. Two voices inside. Fighting.
Leave a note.
Might not be around for awhile. Keep cool with Lib. Sell me out if you need. Be on the watch for JtH. Help him. Trust B if no one else.
Go still. Think for a while. Someone throws something inside. Write a new line.
Keep plan to go indie.
Walk on home. Get home and the Devil is waiting for me.
iv
Flurry of the usual spells and protection spells but he just puts up his hands. Ultrascorpions are asleep in their rafters, like he wasn't here.
'None of that,' says the Devil. He's in a country and western outfit and I envy his shirt.
'Sit down. I'm just here to talk.'
Can't hear over the blood in my ears. Sit anyway.
'In fact, don't bother. Come with me.'
Big black car, 'Jag XJR' he tells me. Woman in the front seat but it's not Ava. We drive in silence. Hondo's bar.
Goya Jr. know me. Looks at the Devil but he's not for recognising.
Place is jumping. Al De Lory finishes and Tito comes on the jukebox. Latin night. The dancers know what to do.
Devil buys the drinks.
'I owe you a favour, Lark.'
Dunno what to say so I don't say it.
'Got me back together with my girl. That was a hard situation, man. Me and her, both like to mix it up too much. Both alike. But we'll see how it goes. I feel good about it. A man can change.'
He sips. He's drinking mojitos and I'm drinking whisky sours.
'Your soul is safe. I missed it. Not the first person who did that.'
Wicked Jack, I owe you a beer and a ritual sacrifice, brother.
Last call. Drink quiet for awhile. Devil and Goya chat. Look up at that pin up of Ava. Hell of a woman.
Bar clears out. All good stories end this way, two guys in a bar. Only other way is guy gets the girl but, well...
Anyways. Devil sees me looking. 'Yeah, she's dynamite.' We toast her, each raising a glass.
Burnt out on fear. My blood is immune to the terror-toxins, at least for now.
'So you and me?'
'Every story really is a Faust story, Lark. And yours is over. No blood between us. Like I say, you got off. That's your story. If you look over your shoulder, it won't be because you're looking for me.'
Devil's a liar. Everyone knows that. But he wants me, he can get me. He burnt out my fear of him.
'Good to know.'
Jukebox goes silent.
'I sent him to your friend.'
'Jon? Which friend.'
'The one who works for you. Setting up gigs.'
Wait. What?
'Scarlet?'
'No no. Ava told me about her. She was one of Ava's... cult isn't quite the right word. Devotee.'
'No one farms me jobs on a regular basis. Ava came to Lazlo.'
'Your friend sent her to Lazlo. Bernadette?'
'I don't know any Bernadette.'
X. X is called Bernadette.
Devil looks at me with a grin that doesn't terrify me now but scares me all the same. Trickster grin. Imp grin. Guess I'm not the only one likes chaos.
'Met her at St. Anthony's. Scarlet and her. Said that you were the best for the job. Ava was tired, looking for a show down, looking to fix up me and her. One of her women, the ladies who know about her. She set it up. Said it would help Jon too.'
'Magician?'
'Reckon so.'
'Bernadette.'
Who I never heard of.
Drain back my drink.
'I have to check this out.'
Get up.
Look back at him.
'I'll see you later for a drink?'
'You will.'
v
The place he's supposed to be on St Anthony's street, this Bernadette's crib, is empty but he's been here.
Empty pill bottles for pain meds. A lot. Crutch imprints in the carpets. Takeout food. Jon never ate anything but the best. Never drank either but there's bottles of wine.
Cast a spell to bring up what happened but someone's erased the whole thing.
Someone who’s not Jon.
Start the search all over. His old gyms, his old dojos. Hospitals. Cult doctors we know. His old boyfriends.
Nothing. No one. He's a ghost. Is he alone? He's hurt and he's the property of someone I don't know and surely do not trust. He needs saving. But I can't help but think of Bettina getting sliced up. Or twelve of Aristides' boys, dead down in the hidden guts of the City or a man getting scalped. One last try to find him anyways.
Go down the Chamber again. Those octopus things cleaned out the bodies.
Nothing.
Hear a voice. A woman's. Don't recognise it at all.
'He's mine.'
Don't recognise it but it reminds me of one person. The Old Man.
It's on the way home I feel the curse lift like the bright pain of self-harm
vi
Bags packed. Ultrascorpions dismissed. We worked it out.
Old notes cleaned from my study. Tried to file ‘em. Threw most of them out. Broke down the sanctorum upstairs. Sheets over bookcases and furniture, newsprint on the window, rubbish on the curb. Leaving the place but I'm keeping it. City and I been together too long but I made the sacrifice. Even if I didn't want to go, I'd have to. At least for a while.
Sad Travis Edmonson songs on the stereo. Big sports bag filled with clothes, more books than I should travel with. A few ritual tools but nothing that gets me stopped I decide on hopping borders. No plans. Just time to go. Timetable next to me, marked with night trains travelling to warm. Fancy the beach.
Jeans, t-shirt, old leather jacket, creaks comfort as I put it on.
Fresh pack of cigarettes. I throw ‘em in the bin. Leave more behind me than just my past.
Knock on the door. I open it.
'Shouldn't you be on honeymoon?'
'Hello, Lark. Invite me in?'
Scarlet. Short hair and blonde. Not sure I like it still. Business suit, all in white. Like a bride.
Go up to the kitchen.
'Got anything to drink?'
Pour us some whisky. Drink's on her breath. Not her first tonight.
'How's Luanne?'
'You really interested in my family right now?'
'Luanne's alright.'
'Yeah. She's worried. About me. About everything.'
Go to light up. No.
> I'm A Drifter kicks out of the speakers.
'I love this song,' she whisper and takes a breath over the fire in her throat.
'I'm going Scarlet. Your husband let me go.'
She looks at me, green eyes serious. They looked better up against red hair.
'I know. I told him to do it. Now I think I made a mistake.'
Feel like a ship in a storm.
She downs the drink in one go, reaches over to the bottle. Whisky was never her drink but here we are.
She sings along with the song, a slow one, filled up with lonely, about being on the road. Her voice is high and slight but she feels it. Used to sing all the time. Used to get drunk, pretend she was Judy Henske, Nina Simone, Dolly Parton. Been years since I heard her sing. Her eyes are closed.
Say nothing until she speaks.
'I had to do it.'
'Do what?'
'Put you out in the cold. I knew changes were coming. I knew you'd resist. None of us knew how bad it was with Jon.'
Got a lot of questions. Keep my damn mouth shut.
'There's something... there's badness on the way, Lark. Serpent's uncoiling out of the blackness. That's what she said. More omens than that. Something bad. I know how you work. I was closer to you than anyone. Even Jon. You're the type, knits a parachute on the ways down.'
Opens those green eyes and stares hard at me. Fierce.
'Well that won't cut it against what's coming!'
Do you want to know what's coming to your world like a meteor?
'I hurt you because I needed you safe. The Library... they do things by the book. I've had meetings with Austria. They think we can fight what's coming but it needs discipline, Lark. The changes, Foulstone and his kind? That was set in motion before you ever left.'
Puts her tumbler on the table.
'Lark it changed. The world changed around us, the Library's mission and goddamn you you're too proud to change with it! '
'Yeah. But you changed.'
'I did,' she says. 'I did. And I got married because I know what's coming. I needed money and resources and Elliot has more of that and more - and fucking hell Lark, you should see his parent's place. The way they live. I changed into some business chick I barely recognise and I left you and married a business guy. Because I need everything Elliot has because something is coming?'
She breathes heavy. 'I can't tell you. I'm geased to it. We think of it too much, it hears. And you, you'd never rest, looking to know about it. You'd tip it off and you'd force our hand and you'd die.'
It's true. She knows all my moves.
'Lark. I got married and I left you and we all know what happened. We need you. We all need you.'
'I'm not coming back to the Library. Not like it is.'
'I know. But don't leave the City. We need you.'
'This isn't fair. Scarlet, this isn't fair.'
'Something bad...We all might die.'
She breathes deep. Stands, comes over to me, palm on my cheek.
'The Library needs you. They thought you were unreliable but hell with them. The Devil? You took on the Devil and walked away.'
'Don't.'
'I need you. Not just Scarlet Boss of the Library.'
'Don't.'
'I tried to go as straight as I could. I did. But you walked through that stupid wedding like it was nothing. Like an adept. You walked out of Elliot's stupid macho ambush like it was nothing.'
'Stop.'
She leans in close.
'Come back Lark. I do need you. I can organise the fight. I know what's coming. I. Need you. This is your work and I just need you to come back and fall in line. Just once, just follow the plan.'
She reaches in to kiss me. Try to turn away but my body ain't listening. Her green eyes hook mine utterly, the loveliest crucifixion I'll ever hope to know. Can't help but take her hair between my fingers and breathe her in. So long since she looked at me from there.
'Please,' she says and she's telling it true. 'Don't go.'
Our lips brush.
'Scarlet,' I say and maybe that's a warning. Lips meet mine again and it's serious.
'Shhh.'
Devil City Page 27