Colby looked at Austin, nodding sadly. “Now for the hard part.”
“I still don’t understand what’s going on,” said Austin.
Gossamer nuzzled Colby, looking up at the two. “You will,” he said. “It’ll all make sense by morning.”
“Let’s go, Goss,” said Colby.
“Sure thing, boss.”
Colby gave a somber wave, then he and the dog walked off into the woods together, stepped into a tree, and vanished, leaving Austin and the kutji behind.
CHAPTER 59
WITH THIS RING
The night was darker out here, the stars brighter, the light pollution of the city too far to ruin the sky. Half the horizon was covered in clouds, flashes of lightning rippling through their bellies. At last, it seemed, rain was on its way. Maybe this time it wouldn’t just be a tease; maybe this time the drought would end.
Colby and Gossamer were nowhere near home, too far out for Austin to hear them. They were deep in the Limestone Kingdom, but nowhere near anyone’s haunt. The two were entirely alone.
“This is as good a place as any,” said Colby.
“They’ll find out eventually.”
“Yeah, but not tonight. We get tonight.”
“Last chance,” said Gossamer.
“The last chance has come and gone. You know that.”
“I do. I just thought I’d make it feel like we had a choice in the matter.”
“I appreciate that.”
Colby held out his arms and started screaming in an infernal tongue, chanting once again the means of summoning. Then he shouted, “President Amy, I summon thee. Appear and speak.”
The earth clattered awake and the demon appeared in a burst of hellfire. Amy. The Holocaust Man.
“It was my understanding,” he said, flames trickling off his tongue, “that our business was concluded.”
“Between myself and the Seventy-two it has. But not between me and you.”
“There is no business between me and you.”
“Oh, but there is,” said Colby. “You see, I’ve brought the ring.”
Amy eyed the ring nervously. “You should have given it to Dantalion. He’s the one who lost it. He should be the one to put it back where it belongs.”
“But he didn’t fight for it. Not like you did.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” He was lying. Colby could sense it.
“Thank you,” said Colby, smiling politely.
“For what?”
“For lying so directly. You could have played with some version of the truth, kept us going round and round until I had to get direct with you. Now I know for sure what I only suspected.”
“Which is?”
“You killed Bill the Shadow. And you torched our bar.”
The Holocaust Man stared blankly at him, eyes dimming, curious. “I’m listening.”
“From the get-go everything seemed wrong,” said Colby. “Orobas consented to my deal too quickly, didn’t niggle over the details. He could have demanded the ring, but he didn’t. Then, each of the five did exactly as I asked, no exceptions.”
“That was the deal.”
“That was. But no one tried to pervert it. No one cheated, tried to screw me out of what I asked for through loopholes. I gave each of them ample opportunity for shenanigans, but they didn’t take the bait. They were each punctual, exact, and saw to it that they honored our deal in toto. They even played upon my own weakness for knowledge, almost all of them more than happy to engage me in discussion, hand me secrets men have died trying and failing to learn. All because they wanted me to trust them.”
“And you did,” hissed the demon.
“No. Because there was something else nagging at me.”
“What was that?”
“Orobas. He told me that he didn’t know why he couldn’t see my future anymore. That none of you did.”
“We didn’t.”
“Oh, I know. But for that to be true it meant that merely being involved with the ring wouldn’t cloud your sight of my destiny. It meant that I would, at some point, come into possession of the ring. And what Orobas meant when he said he didn’t know, was that he didn’t know whether I would take the ring and hand it back or if I would keep it for myself.”
The Holocaust Man nodded, flames jumping, licking the air, as he did.
“I can only assume there was some debate over which it might be and how best you could convince me to give it back. The prevailing thought must have been to earn my trust. But someone dissented. Thought it best to scare me, make me think the ring was far more trouble than it was worth. Convince me that everyone and everything that I loved would be at risk if I kept it. And that was you.”
“How did you know?”
Colby threw a stiff thumb at Gossamer. “My dog.”
“Your familiar?”
“He was there when your kutji torched the place.”
“And how did you know that wasn’t the Queen?”
“Because your kutji had both of their hands.” Colby held both of his hands open in the air.
The demon smiled, his charred teeth large, cinders smoldering between them. “You’re a clever boy after all, Colby Stevens.”
“You couldn’t help yourself.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“No, I mean you couldn’t help yourself. You were destined to do it. This had to happen. You were the reason you couldn’t see my future. Before you intervened, I wanted nothing to do with the ring. It scared the shit out of me. I didn’t want that kind of responsibility, or to earn that much enmity. But the minute you made your play, I saw just how untrustworthy a lot you were. I almost bought into the idea that you were all just fallen angels, doing your own thing. But you’re not. You’re demons. You’re Hell. And I will never be free of you.”
Colby reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. He held it up, pinched between thumb and forefinger, eyeing it as it flickered in the firelight.
“You can’t keep it, Colby,” said the demon. “We’ll never let you keep it.”
“But that’s just it. I don’t have a choice. You robbed me of that choice the moment you interfered. That’s why you couldn’t see my future. You were always meant to let me know that I was never safe from you, with or without the ring. So my choice was to fear you without it, or fear you with it. Which is no choice at all.”
“Colby—”
Colby slipped the ring on his finger. “You killed my friend, you son of a bitch.” He punched the demon square in the chest, the brand of Solomon burning immediately into him. Amy reeled back, but not in time. His eyes smoldered black, flames erupting all over his body. He screamed in agony.
“Kneel,” growled Colby.
The demon fell to his knees.
“Who do you serve?”
“You.”
“You’re going to go back to your brothers. You’re going to tell them what you’ve done. You’re going to tell them that you’re the reason I’ve kept the ring. Then you’re going to give them a message.”
“What’s the message?” asked the kowtowing demon.
“That I’m going to leave your punishment to them.”
The Holocaust Man looked up fearfully. “What?”
“If I’m satisfied with your punishment, I won’t use this ring in any other way. But if I’m not, or if a single one of you interferes in my life again, or shows its face without me asking, or goes after one of my friends, I will summon you one by one over the course of a single afternoon and I will bury you so far and deep within the earth that your five hundred years in the sea will feel like a fucking holiday weekend. And that goes for Kaycee too. She’s off-limits now. And they have you to blame.”
“No. Please. You have no idea what they’ll do—”
“You’re right. I don’t. I lack their capacity for cruelty. I can’t even begin to imagine the suffering you’re about to endure. You see, that’s the illusion of choice. Your brothers can go to war with
me for the ring. Or they can just shit on you and wait me out. Do you imagine there will be much of a discussion?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Neither do I. Bill was good to me. He deserved better than that. I hope it was worth it.”
The demon smiled again, laughing. “It was. Now you’re truly damned, Colby Stevens. Truly damned.”
“Go. Tell your brothers. Accept your punishment.”
“Good-bye, Colby,” said the demon, still smiling.
“Good-bye, Amy.”
Then the Holocaust Man fell away into ashes, a small flaming circle left burning in the ground where he’d knelt.
Colby looked down at Gossamer. “I told you. What you’ve gotten yourself into with me, it can’t be undone.”
“All due respect,” said Gossamer, “but go fuck yourself. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, boss.”
Colby scratched Goss behind the ears. “Let’s go home.”
“Good idea. I need a beer.”
CHAPTER 60
THE BURDEN OF SOLOMON
Colby and Gossamer were only five minutes ahead of the storm, the smell of the rain wafting in from the west, thunder rumbling through the streets. The stars were gone now; only clouds remained. They were only a few blocks from home when they heard a third pair of footsteps. At once, from the barefoot scuff, Colby knew without looking who it was.
“Hello, Coyote,” he said without breaking stride, too tired to make a big deal out of it.
“When was the last time you slept?” asked the manitou.
“Australia.”
“That was awhile ago.”
“And not the best sleep. How can I help you?”
“I’m good. Just a friendly visit.”
“There are no friendly visits from Coyote.”
“They’re all friendly visits, Colby. I don’t believe in getting angry.”
“Probably because you’re very good at helping everyone else with that.”
“It’s good to have a skill.”
Colby stopped, Gossamer stopping with him. “What do you want?”
“To congratulate you.”
“For what?”
“What do you think?”
“I really don’t know.”
Coyote grinned, beaming like a proud father. “Four hundred years ago, five demons decided to sink a ship just because they could. Tonight they paid for their arrogance and lost the one thing they hold most dear.”
“The ring?” asked Colby.
“No. Their immunity from repercussions.”
“They didn’t suffer long for what they did.”
“They’ve only just begun to suffer. You saw to that.”
“I have no intention of tangling with them again.”
Coyote smiled wider, increasingly pleased. “But they don’t know that. You’re a being of the flesh, Colby. You aren’t bound to your word like they are. From this day forward, they will always want to know where you are because they’re always going to be afraid that you might at any moment renege on your end of the deal.”
“So they’ll come for me instead. Is that what you’re saying?”
“What, and ensure that you’ll bind them? Mark them with that little ring and make them kneel like you did Amy? They only have the illusion of choice, like they gave you. Either they trust you or they ensure they’ll become your slaves.”
“That’s not a very good choice,” said Colby.
“That’s why I like it so much,” said Coyote through a churlish giggle. “Of all the options presented to you, the wealth of possibilities, and this was your path. You could have asked for power. Immolated your adversaries. Become a god. You could have had any woman in the world, ended all your loneliness. One boon can grant more power than most men ever dream of. You had five. Instead you asked only for what you needed. Knowledge and tools.”
“That was the only way to do it.”
“It was the only way to do it and retain your soul.”
“Like I said. That was the only way to do it.”
Coyote nodded, walking again toward Colby’s house, waving a lecturing finger. “At night you drink yourself to sleep, wondering why your life has to be so hard. Wondering what it would be like if you hadn’t made that wish. And yet every morning you wake up stronger. Smarter. Wiser. And now you have that ring.”
Colby walked briskly to catch up, Gossamer in tow. “I don’t want it.”
“Good. The people who want it shouldn’t have it. They say Solomon didn’t want it.”
“Yeah, but I’m not Solomon.”
“Solomon was just a man, Colby. A man who cared about his people. Greatness isn’t given to anyone. It’s taken after years of hard learning.”
“I’m not great.”
“No. You’re not. But you’ve become a problem. Almost everyone hates you. No one can trust you. You have grown far more powerful than you have any right to be. And worse yet, you are driven by ideals that run counter to the very world you are a part of. You look around you and see great corruption—dangerous creatures that need to be taught a lesson. And you figure you’re just the one to teach them.”
“Maybe I am.”
“Maybe you are.”
“Maybe you could use a lesson or two.”
Coyote smiled, shaking his head. “It’s not yet time for the student to become the teacher.”
“I’m not your student.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No.”
“What was your first boon?”
“What does that have to—”
“You stood before that demon and he gave unto you a mind that could never be deceived by a spirit again. So tell me, oh seer-through-of-bullshit: am I lying?”
He wasn’t. Colby stopped in his tracks. “Mandu.”
Coyote turned, the biggest, smarmiest smile Colby had ever seen pulled back over pearl white teeth.
“But he said his spirit—”
“Was a dingo. A large dingo.”
“Yeah.”
“Living in Arnhem as he did, do you imagine he’d ever even seen a coyote?” Coyote returned to walking, his stride now more of a stroll. “Angels have their preachers, Colby. Demons have their sorcerers. And I, I have my Clever Men.” The manitou kept walking, fading away as he did, until he was nothing but a shadow dimming in the night. And then he was gone, one with the black.
Colby muttered beneath his breath, but Gossamer knew what he was saying all the same. Then the two continued home, ever more unsure about everything that had just happened.
As they rounded the corner, they saw her, sitting on the front porch, a six-pack of icy Mexican beer at her side. Austin. She gave a slight nod and motioned to the beer. Colby nodded back, then looked down at Gossamer.
“I think I’m going to take a lap or two around the block, boss.”
“You don’t have to. You’ll get caught in the rain.”
“Nah, it’s about time.”
“That it rained?”
“That too. Save me a beer.”
“It’s a sixer. I’ll save you two.”
Gossamer rubbed his head against Colby’s leg, looked up at him with the kind of love only a golden retriever knows, then loped off down the street, dreaming about beer.
Colby plodded slowly up the front walk, hands in his pockets, eyes on the cracked cement. Austin smiled, pulled a pair of beers from the sixer, and popped off the tops without an opener.
“Mayor,” he said, looking at her, hands still in his pockets.
“Sheriff.”
He sat down, taking a beer from her hand, and looked out into the night. Austin sipped at hers, staring out with him.
“I’m not the mayor,” she said.
“I’m not the sheriff.”
“That’s not what you said before.”
“That’s because I was an idiot. I’m no sheriff. This town doesn’t need one.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No. This town needs something el
se.”
“What’s that?”
“A Clever Man.”
They sat there, together, in silence, drinking, neither saying a word. Neither needing to. Gentle slaps of rain rolling down the street, the storm only seconds away.
EPILOGUE
Once upon a time there was a very clever little girl who possessed the power to walk through dreams. Each night, as she slept, she would traipse out past the black stump, deep into the outback, and dance beneath the moon. She would frolic from billabong to billabong, leaping on top of rocks, scaling cliff faces, climbing trees, visiting all her friends of the dream as she did. And this made her very, very happy.
But one night, as she danced deeper than she ever had before, she came across a barren desert that stank only of the dead. It was soundless, with no bushes or trees for the wind to rustle. But when she heard the wind rise up she grew frightened, for it was unlike any wind she had ever heard before.
There is a vast difference between the large, boisterous sound of the wind tearing across an open plain and that of its twitters through a tight space. In the desert you notice these things. One means bad weather, the other means something is nearby. This was the latter. The whistles were like a stiff wind through a wooden fence, long, labored, the trill changing pitch with the rise and fall of each gust.
The little girl stopped in her tracks, noting the sound was moving with her, surrounding her on nearly all sides. As she came to an abrupt halt, she heard a flapping, scurrying, but the whistles still wailed. She looked around. Nothing. Darkness everywhere the eye could see. Even the stars were afraid of this place.
The little girl pulled a small box of matches from her pocket, plucked one from the tiny cardboard tray, and struck it against the side. The match brightened, growing in intensity until it became a white-hot blaze, like a phosphorous flare against the black of the outback. The darkness withered and twenty skeletal creatures, dressed from head to toe in rags, cowered from the light.
Nomorodo. Desert vampires. Dried skin wrapped tightly around brittle bones; their insides, meat and all, sucked out by their predecessors; their hair long, straggly; finger bones filed down, sharpened to fine, deadly points. They stood there, feral, snarling, cowering behind their hands from the light, stunned for the moment by the surprise of it.
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