Wild Ride

by Jennifer Cruisie

  Mab flipped the next card over. She put it above the first two, in the place that Delpha pointed to. This one was somebody in goggles wearing a hat and holding a painter's palette, flanked by paintings of two naked women holding coins. “But he doesn't kill, right? Tricks and seduction and lies, but not death? He didn't kill Karl?” “You have had much isolation and betrayal in your past . Delpha tapped the card below the others. ”And now, you carry loneliness within you, you're locked inside yourself, trapped by your own dem -"

  “Actually, I'm fine,” Mab said, “except for the dead body and the robot clown.”

  “Achievement,” Delpha said, tapping the card above. “You find your meaning in artistic ability. You hide in your work like a little girl.”

  “Hey,” Mab said.

  Delpha gestured to the cards and Mab flipped the next one and paused. It was obscene, a huge, leering, naked devil looming over two equally naked blue people.

  Frankie cawed, and Delpha said, “And now you face great evil.”

  “That I knew when I saw Dead Karl,” Mab said. “You didn't answer my question. Did Fufluns kill Karl?”

  “No. Put the last four in a vertical row to the right, Starting at the hottom.”

  “Then who did?”

  “A card.”

  Mab flipped up a woman crouching in a gray, desolate landscape, eight swords thrust into the ground around her. “Who killed Dead Karl?”

  “Tura.”

  Mab flipped up the next card and put it above the last one, a guy in front of a blast furnace, evidently making money, since there were eight coins lined up along the bottom. “Who's Tura? And don't tell me she's an Etruscan demon.”

  “She's an Etruscan demon,” Delpha said, almost absentmindedly, as she studied the cards.

  Mab flipped up the next one, and stopped. It was a picture of a couple, him with a ridiculous hat, her with red hair, staring into each other's eyes while a child poked a turtle with a stick behind them, ten gold cups floating in the air above them.

  So not me, she thought. “Who is Vanth?”

  “An Etruscan demon,” Delpha said. “Turn the last card.”

  Mab flipped it over.

  A naked woman sat on a rock at daybreak, pouring water from a pitcher into a stream. Her hair was dark red, and she looked cold but not unhappy.

  “That is your future,” Delpha said, sitting back, satisfied.

  “Pouring water naked into a pond?” Mab said. “Well, it's within my skill set. Enough with this demon stuff. What's going on in this park?”

  Delpha looked at her steadily for a moment and then nodded. “You have shown me what I need to see; I will tell you. When you put the pipes back in the hand of the carousel FunFun, they opened the iron FunFun statue at the gate, and he escaped. Karl was killed by a second demon, Tura, imprisoned in the mermaid statue, who punishes betrayers.”

  “Betrayers? That's why she killed Karl last night?”

  Delpha nodded.

  “The mermaid killed Dead Karl.” Mab rubbed her head. “Look, I don't believe in demons. Is it possible that some human person is doing this and using the demon legends as a cover? Is it possible Dead Karl just had a plain old heart attack? Is it possible -?”

  “No,” Delpha said. "It is the demons. They possess people, spread pain and hopelessness break hearts and poison minds and kill from within.

  They -"

  “No,” Mab said, losing patience. “No more fantasy, this is real. We need to stop this -”

  “We try.” Delpha sat back, looking even more tired than usual. “The Guardia fight the demon. But we are few and mostly old. New Guardia must he called if we are to win this time.” She looked at Mab fixedly. oung strong Guardia."

  “So you've got a secret demon-fighting society.” Mab gave up. “Great. Look, I need to call the police. Or something.”

  “You would be a good Guardia,” Delpha said.

  “I'm really not a joiner,” Mab said, trying to figure her next move.

  l)elpha picked up the devil card. “You are facing great evil, and you will have to change, to fight. There will be darkness. The devil will try to enslave you, so you must struggle to see -”

  “I have to go now.” Mab pushed her chair back, but Delpha's hand shot out and grabbed her arm as Frankie lowered his head and stared into her eyes.

  “Your strength is the way you see things. You must remember to look oil all things with an open heart and mind. Ignore the illusion. See the truth.”

  “I do that anyway,” Mab said. “In my work, you have to.”

  “The last four cards hold the truth,” Delpha said, as if Mab hadn't spoken. “The first is how you see yourself, trapped and alone.”

  “I do not -”

  “The second is how people see you, taking great pride and success in your work. The third is your hopes and dreams -”

  Mab looked at the happy couple on that card. I hardly even know Joe.

  “- part of a family, not alone anymore. And the last Delpha let go of her arm and picked up the card. ”The last is your future, Mary Alice Brannigan. Hope. Balance. Harmony after the storm."

  “Oh.” Mab took a breath. “Well, that's good. No demons.”

  “But only if you defeat the devil,” Delpha said, dropping the card hack on the table.

  “Right, defeat the devil, save the world.” Mab got up.

  “You have another question,” Delpha said. "A personal question. About a man.'

  Joe. “No -”

  Delpha picked up the card with the couple on it. “You want to know if he is your true love. Give me your hand.”

  Mab hesitated and then sat down again and put her right hand in Delpha's.

  “Other one,” Delpha said, and Mab put her left hand in Delpha's.

  Delpha drew her finger across Mab's palm with one perfectly manicured nail, painted in royal blue with tiny gold stars stuck on it. Then she gazed into Mab's eyes until her own unfocused. After a minute, she let Mab's hand drop and sat back. “Your true love is here, the one you will love forever. You have met him.”

  “Well, good for me,” Mab said, trying to stay calm. “Anything else I should know? Because I really -”

  “His name is Joe.”

  Mab tried to ignore the leap her heart took. “You're kidding. You can see names?”

  “No, I heard you say it in the future,” Delpha said. “You will be standing in the sunlight in front of the Dream Cream, and you'll say his name and laugh. But he is not what you think he is.”

  “They never are,” Mab said, standing up again. “Well, thank you very much -”

  “You are very strong,” Delpha said. “The Guardia will need you to fight the demons.”

  “I don't believe in demons,” Mab said.

  “You will believe.” Delpha hesitated. "There is something else. I think..

  Frankie hopped off her shoulder and onto the table, and she sorted through the pile of stuff there.

  “I don't really need anything,” Mab began, and then Delpha held up a long loop of blue-green ribbon with a small green rock dangling from it.

  You will need this," Delpha said, handing it to her.

  Mab looked at the rock. It was an inch-long chunk of dark green stone, crudely carved to look like a rabbit.

  “It's a malachite bunny,” Delpha said.

  “A bunny,” Mab said, trying to sound appreciative.

  “Malachite wards off evil.” Delpha nodded. “You'll need that later. For when she comes.”

  “She,” Mab said, lost.

  Delpha nodded and went back to her work, and Mab pushed the sliding doors apart and went out into the brisk October day.

  The sun was shining, and the whole fortune-telling-demons-on-the-loose bit should have seemed even more ridiculous in the bright light, especially given the weirdness of the malachite bunny she now clutched that she was evidently supposed to use to ward off some female demon but

  His name is Joe, Delpha had said, and that had made h
er treacherously h.ippy. Hell, Joe made her happy. Well, Joe made everybody happy, he was lust that kind of guy, but

  Demons.

  “That was a complete waste of time,” she told herself sternly, and went back to the Fortune-Telling Machine.

  Wild Ride

  8

  ************************************************************************************************

  Later, after an afternoon of particularly heavy drinking in the woods, Ethan went looking for Gus to tell the old man he'd be passing on the evening patrol and found him behind the mermaid statue.

  “What're you doin'?” Ethan said, knowing he was slurring his words and not caring.

  Gus jerked his head back, banging it on the top of the hatch on the rear of the statue and letting loose a string of curses that would have done a drill sergeant proud.

  Ethan looked over Gus's shoulder. A carved wooden cup similar to the one inside the FunFun statue was crammed in there. “Wha's wi the wood cups?”

  “Chalices.” Gus carefully retrieved the cup and lid. “This one's not broken. Means we can put Tura back. But Fufluns -” He shook his head. “Gotta get Mab to fix it.”

  “You gonna tell Mab she has to fix a demon prison?”

  Gus looked at him, shaking his head in exasperation. “Dreamland's the prison. The chalices are just the cells.”

  “Right.” Ethan took out his flask and drank and then stopped.

  Ashley was passing by.

  She looked sharp-eyed and hot, like she owned the place, exuding sex so strongly that the men who were opening up the rides and the games stopped to look at her as she went past. She owned them, too. Hell, she owned Ethan. He couldn't even hear what Gus was saying anymore.

  Gus slammed his hand into Ethan's chest, making the old bullet scar, although it felt funny this time, the pain was duller, probably because of all the booze -

  Gus got in his face. “You're not listening -”

  “Not the chest,” Ethan said, pronouncing each word as carefully and distinctly as he could. “And I am tired of this demon bullshit.”

  He walked away, staggering a little, heading for Ashley, although he could sense he wasn't exactly following a straight trajectory. Ashley was passing the Worm when she suddenly stopped and turned. Her eyes bore into Ethan's, and her smile heated him.

  “Well, hey there,” she said softly. There was something about Ashley - Ethan strained his alcohol-fogged brain to remember.

  “Hey,” he managed.

  “You were awfully friendly with that woman in the Beer Pavilion,” she said, moving closer. “I saw her sitting next to you. You were sitting close.”

  “Weaver?” Ethan shook his head and felt dizzy.

  “She had her hand on your leg. I saw you. You're with her, aren't you? I could see the connection between you. She's the one for you.”

  Ethan shook his head again. Stop that. “She's nothin' to me.” He Couldn't focus his mind. No blood there, too much alcohol, too much Ashley.

  Ashley smiled slowly and then looped her arm into his and tugged. '(hen let's go into the Tunnel of Love."

  Ethan followed her to the Tunnel, bumping once into the fence and biting back a curse when a ghost flew at him - fucking ghosts were everywhere - and then Ashley pulled him over and got into the lead swan boat. He tried stepping in and fell, doing a face - plant into her lap. Slower, he thought, and pulled himself up and back into his seat, the narrowness of the boat forcing him against her.

  “I don't think this is runnin' yet,” he told her, squinting at the empty ticket booth, and then, with a clang, the hook on the underwater cable engaged, and they were propelled forward into the yawning dark mouth of the Tunnel.

  Ashley's arm slid around Ethan's shoulder, and he wanted to sink into her, all that softness, all that comfort, all that normal human biology. Then they came to the first diorama, and he saw Adam staring down Eve, who was offering up an apple.

  Don' take it, Ethan thought, and then Ashley leaned in and kissed him, and he thought, Take it. She put a hand on the side of his face and pulled his head so that he was looking directly into her eyes as they moved past the diorama and into the blackness before the next one. She kissed him again, hard this time, with tongue, and he put his hand on her breast and squeezed the fullness just as she put her hand on his chest and pressed. He winced, but then she slid her hand lower and he forgot about the pain. Another diorama slid by, and then another, and then out of the corner of his eye, he saw Antony and Cleopatra.

  Ashley pulled her tongue out of his mouth. “Do you want me?”

  “Yeah. Yes.”

  Ashley smiled, and despite the fog of alcohol and lust, the hairs on the back of Ethan's neck tingled. Then she gripped his head with surprising strength, and her eyes flashed blue-green, glowed blue-green.

  Ethan froze. He couldn't move; he couldn't shake his attention from those glowing eyes.

  “Betrayer,” Ashley whispered as she put her hand on his chest. “Die, betrayer.”

  Blue-green light flowed from her into him, blue-green fog filled his chest, squeezing his heart, the pain from the bullet cutting through the middle of his chest as she possessed him, suffocating him, her laughter echoing inside him.

  'No, "he said, and wrenched back, and then a man in black stood up from behind Cleopatra and fired at Ashley, who jerked away, screaming, blue-green smoke spewing everywhere as she leapt out to disappear into the darkness of the tunnel, leaving Ethan free.

  Damn demons, Erhan thought, and slumped into darkness.

  Mab had run out of cleaner for her brushes about an hour before dark and headed to the Dream Cream for a refill. On the way, she glanced out at the gate to the causeway and saw the FunFun statue was back.

  Kind of.

  She walked toward the statue, her horror growing, until she was standing in front of it. “Sweet baby Jesus,” she said in despair, “what happened to you?”

  He'd been so bright and beautiful, that orange-and-gold-checked waist-coat gleaming, the hand with the flute flung above his head in delight, his other hand gesturing the way into Dreamland, his big yellow glove like a beacon -

  Both arms were down at his sides, the metal at his shoulders torn and gaping over the broken wood. The layers of paint and glazes that she'd slaved over were scraped down to the metal in places, pieces of his coat broken off entirely. He was missing a finger. Worst of all was his beautiful face: torn, dented, scraped

  “No,” she said, close to crying. “I can't fix you. Nobody can fix you.”

  “Looks pretty bad,” a voice said from behind her, and she turned and saw one of the college kids who maintained the park - the turquoise-and-blue-striped shirt gave him away - smiling at the ruined statue.

  “Pretty bad?” she said. “Somebody killed him.”

  He came to stand beside her, and she saw the name embroidered on his pocket: Sam. “Got a spare?”

  “Sure,” Mab said. “We always keep extra iron-clad statues from a hundred years ago around. Got a spare? Are you crazy?”

  “Sorry,” Sam said hastily. “Wasn't thinking.”

  Mab felt lousy. “No, no, I'm sorry. This isn't your fault.”

  “Well, you're upset. You worked hard on this.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Everybody knows.” Sam looked down into her eyes, smiling crookedly at her. “You saved the park.”

  His eyes were brown, nothing remarkable, but Mab felt stirrings ....

  Stirrings? Was she insane? She was in love with Joe -

  No, she wasn't.

  “Do I know you?” she said. “You seem really familiar.”

  “I've been working here all year,” he said, hitting her with that crooked grin again.

  “And I've been oblivious.” Mab sighed. “Well, it's good to finally meet you, Sam.”

  She stuck out her hand and he took it, holding it for a second too long.

  “Well,” she said again, a little rattled. “We have to get this o
ut of here. Can you get Gus or Young Fred or Ethan or She looked at the seven-foot statue doubtfully. ”. . . all of them to put this in the Keep basement?"

  “I could help,” Sam offered. “We could do it together.”

  He smiled down at her, and his smile was familiar, and she thought, He's not talking about the statue, and the stirrings came back.