Adornments of Glory

by J. Crispin-Ripley

  "I can?" Caleb rolled to a sit.

  "Why not? And have a nice dinner. Shall we be on our way?" she asked Sian and Roger.

  Sian managed to restrain herself until the elevator doors were closed. "I can't believe what you just did!"

  "You wanted me to kill him as well? Didn't think you Terrans believed in gratuitous violence."

  "You as good as invited Caleb to eat that corpse."

  "Did I? Oh my, I hadn't considered Caleb might take it that way."

  * * * * *

  Feldspar forced herself to keep laughing. Delarone had reddened at her reflexive chuckle, so why not see if she could get him truly angry. Angry people made mistakes.

  "Stop that. Immediately," he ordered.

  "Or you'll do what?" Feldspar asked with a smile. "Have your boys shoot me? Isn't that going to happen anyway?"

  Delarone appeared astonished by her response.

  "Now Feldspar, it's not nice to laugh at someone just because they're dog ugly," Lupa said. "Behave yourself."

  "I'm sorry. It's not because he's repulsive. Honest. I'm not that rude. But don't the Adornments make him look ridiculous?"

  "True." Lupa gave a snicker. "I hadn't thought of that."

  "Stop that!" Delarone shouted. Lupa quit immediately. "Don't ever laugh at me again."

  "I know he plans to get rid of me," Feldspar said, taking a step towards Delarone. "But it sounds like he intends to spare you, Lupa. You must be a good fuck."

  "The best," Lupa said. "Too bad you're not going to be around to find out. And I give great head, don't I, Delbert?" She slowly sank to her knees. "May I demonstrate?" Lupa started towards him, see-sawing from knee to knee.

  "Lupa... stop right there and get to your feet."

  Lupa did as Delarone asked. Delarone fixed Feldspar with what she suspected was his best effort at a steely gaze. "I want you on your knees instead. Kneel."

  "Why should I?"

  Delarone adjusted the Circlet with his free hand. "Must not be on right," he muttered to himself, pulling it down. "There. Now... on your knees."

  "I don't think so. Even if I didn't prefer women, you're a particularly loathsome male. Can't understand what Belinda ever saw in you. Even she usually has better taste."

  Every word she said heightened Delarone's flushed anger. With luck he'd burst a blood vessel and they could take the Adornments and go home. "You're supposed to obey me." His voice cracked. "Why don't you obey me? On your knees."

  The Circlet reputedly increased the wearer's charisma if they were of Glory's line. From the use Delarone evidently thought he could make of it, he was. In Feldspar's opinion, charisma wasn't the right word for that power. The Circlet apparently could be used to command blind obedience, at least from some. It was probably her adept-quality shields that made her immune. She took another step towards Delarone... on her feet.

  "Why don't you just give me those baubles?" she asked. "They're dangerous in the wrong hands."

  "Moe... Larry... shoot her if she takes another step."

  Feldspar stopped. Both of Delarone's bodyguards had a machine gun, trained on her. From what Hilldweller had said, they'd probably shoot her even without an arcane, mind-science device compelling them to do so. "Damn you, this isn't what's supposed to be happening." The anger in his voice gave it an annoying whine. "You can't resist my will. Can't. Drop your shields, Feldspar, or else."

  "Or else what? You're going to kill me anyway. I'd rather not die with your undoubtedly putrid taste in my mouth."

  "Kill you? I don't want to kill you. You're the Prophesied. We're going to be married."

  "Now that's funny. Sorry, that was rude. Like I said, you're not my type." And she wasn't the Prophesied. If she were and she married him, it might give him a legitimacy he wouldn't otherwise possess. "It would never work, you know." Feldspar shook her head. "Not a chance. You'd have to sleep sometime. When you did, I'd slit your throat."

  "Hah! That's what you think. After you're properly conditioned you not only won't--you'll lie awake to protect me."

  "Perpetual compulsion... no wonder it's been kept locked away. But why me? Wouldn't you rather have Lupa?"

  "I would and I will. I'll have you both. I'll make you do things to each other."

  "Now that could be fun... if you weren't around. No offence, but I find you disgusting."

  "Disgusting? I'm disgusting? We'll see about that." Delarone moved a step closer. "On your knees." Another step. "On your knees!" Said in close to a scream.

  If he took one more step she should be able to grab him before his men could shoot. Delarone met her eyes and smiled. "Oh, you are a fierce one. Taming you will be such a pleasure. Moe, put your gun down and tie her in a chair."

  "No," Feldspar snapped. Moe froze. Could it be? Worth a try. "Moe, go to Lupa and give her your gun." Moe started to obey.

  "Don't."

  "Do."

  "Don't"

  "Do."

  Moe was quivering, his body being pulled in two directions. Lupa leapt, kicked Moe where it hurt, grabbed the gun and pointed it at Delarone.

  "Don't." Feldspar and Delarone gave the order at the same time.

  Moe rolled toward Lupa. She pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger. Moe exploded in a shower of red. Blood spattered on Feldspar, on Delarone's shocked face. Still firing, Lupa moved the gun to Delarone. He jerked backwards. A stitching of red moved across his stomach while he jerked like a spastic puppet. He collapsed, still clutching the Sceptre in one hand. Lupa's gun went silent.

  "What about him?" Lupa had the gun trained on the remaining guard.

  "What?" Feldspar's ears were ringing. She was covered in blood... naked and covered in blood.

  "What about him?" Lupa asked again. "Larry?"

  "No. Please, no. Does she need to?" Feldspar asked the man.

  Larry dropped his gun. "The king is dead. Long live the queen. How did she do that? Disobey you both?"

  "I was wondering the same thing." Or would have been, if she weren't in shock.

  "It's never worked on me either. With some of the things he ordered me to do it's no wonder he never suspected, the pig." Feldspar saw horror creep into Lupa's face as her eyes moved first to Delarone's shredded remains, and then Moe. "Shit, did I do that?" She dropped the gun and doubled over, vomiting.

  "Everyone reacts that way, first time," Larry said. "Want me to clean this place up? Don't worry about no one hearing. This floor's pretty much soundproof."

  "It doesn't matter," Feldspar answered. "It's okay, Lupa. You had to do it." She said it to comfort and because what was done, was done. And as she said it, she knew it was true. She'd made the wrong decision and Lupa had been right. And while it might have been... no, had been necessary, she felt relieved by how Lupa had reacted to what she'd done. And so... the quest was over.

  She crouched and took the Circlet and Chain off Delarone's corpse. "The Chain's supposed to shield the wearer from harm," she told the others. "Guess that must be mind-based damage, not physical." She pried the Sceptre from Delarone's hand. "Did he ever say what this does?" she asked Larry.

  "That's what the whole thing's all about, what everyone wants most. It can open the way between worlds so they can send an army to the place you guys come from."

  Feldspar straightened. "You believe in other worlds?"

  "Pretty much gotta. Stay in this one, I'm gonna be executed."

  Lupa seemed almost recovered; sploshes of blood and guts dripped off various parts of her body. "You deserve to die," she said. Feldspar noted that despite her words, Lupa didn't bend over to pick up the gun. Those words were just words...

  "And you don't? Shit, lady, youse as cold a killer as me." Larry's voice was filled with admiration.

  * * * * *

  Half a dozen smokers peeled off a wall to greet Sian, Roger and Ishtar when their taxi dropped them off in front of the Bent-Arm Bistro.

  "Damn. Looks like you're going to see what you missed earlier," Ishtar said. "A dwarf i
n a brawl." At the Westshire, Ishtar had dropped her twin so quickly neither Sian nor Roger had seen her do it.

  Sian put a hand on Ishtar's arm. "I'd rather we didn't. You got away with the other one because no one saw it happen." The sidewalk and street were busy with early rush-hour traffic.

  "And because Caleb and company will cover it up. Wonder if Belinda will dine on leg of gladiator tonight? Don't worry. I'm not stupid. Let's go." She started for the door of the bar with quick steps.

  Two smokers shifted to block her. "Not so fast, little lady."

  "What did you say the word was, Sian? Oh yeah. Rape! Help! Police... Rape!"

  "Oh fuck." The smokers backed away, holding their ears. Along with everything else, Ishtar had powerful lungs.

  "Not so fucking fast." One of the other smokers reached to grab Ishtar. She caught his wrist and twisted. "Shit! Oh shit! My wrist!"

  "Anyone else care to assault me?" Ishtar asked. "Or my friends?" They'd gathered a crowd of real smokers and some passers-by. "Didn't think so... if the police do show and want to talk to us, we'll be inside."

  They went into the Bent-Arm without any further trouble, saw Susan in a booth at the back and started her way.

  "Fine, you can take care of yourself," Sian said to Ishtar. "Two things... why did we run earlier?"

  "Didn't know Caleb wouldn't fight. Smart people don't take on werewolves, even ones playing human. Damn strong and real fast. No damn choice the second time. Good thing his heart isn't in his job. That wolf's alive, but just waiting to die. Suppose you want to know why I finished off Vlad?"

  "Not really... why you called for the police. All things considered, we'd be better off them not noticing us now."

  "Never thought I hear you say that," Roger interjected.

  "Probably never thought she'd be hanging out with a killer either," Ishtar said. "Hey, if they'd backed off he'd be alive. From what I know of 'em it was pretty damn unlikely. Hi Susan... so where's our girl got to... the 'ladies' again? Shove over." Ishtar sat beside Susan, forcing her closer to Hilda Weller on the inside.

  Weller's pictures didn't do her justice; she was an imposing blonde... which Susan certainly had noticed. And from the look they exchanged as Sian sat and slid down the bench to across from Weller, Weller had noticed Susan too. "Ms. Weller?"

  "Oh no... please call me Hilda."

  "Or Hilldweller?" Ishtar asked.

  "I'd rather you didn't."

  "Hilda," Sian continued. "Our apologies for intruding like this." >From all report, Hilda Weller wasn't a person to be crossed. For all she knew it was Weller who'd had her fired.

  "Oh, I knew you'd be along. And yes, actually I did have something to do with your being let go. If you were still working for the police I wouldn't have the opportunity to hire you or your young man." Weller smiled. "I see a bright future for you both in television, assuming the future turns out well for any of us here. And if it doesn't, oh well..." An airy wave of a hand, the one not holding Susan's.

  "I'd gather Feldspar isn't in the 'ladies' then?" Ishtar asked.

  "Oh no. At present she and the wolf are endeavouring to reclaim their Adornments."

  Ishtar looked across the table at Sian. "I did just hear her say that, didn't I?"

  "The wolf?" Sian asked. "I guess that would have to be Caleb's daughter?"

  "Have to be. Wasn't what I damn well meant though... their Adornments?"

  "Oh yes," Hilda said, nodding her head. "Your soul-sister is indeed Glory. Or at least, most of her. The wolf is a good bit of the rest."

  "Huh?" Roger's first contribution to the conversation hardly did him credit.

  "No, please don't explain it," Ishtar said to Hilda. "I'm not in the mood for a discussion on the metaphysics of split soul theory."

  "It's not theory, dear, but very well." Hilda's attention shifted to Roger. "So young man, how about those Jays?"

  * * * * *

  For the first time in years, Lupa dared hope for a better future for herself. Things were going well. Feldspar and she'd needed showers after the bloodbath, but Delbert couldn't have planned things better if he'd tried. Their clothes had been out of range of the splatter so once they'd cleaned themselves up, they'd dressed and met in the kitchen. The living room was a mess. And like Larry said, no one would be surprised if Delbert didn't appear in public for several days. No one would look for him either. The only way he'd ever got company was to buy or compel it. She'd managed to keep him believing those were the reasons she'd shared his bed... for the money at first and then because of the Circlet.

  Not so. Others she'd known paid much better and as for her immunity to the Circlet, well, that was her secret. Or had been. She hadn't wanted to lie to Feldspar.

  "I hope you're going to be okay, Lupa. You seem distant."

  "Yeah, I'm okay." Lupa paused to consider her response. "Better than that to tell the truth. I'm glad he's dead, but particularly glad you've taken charge of those things." Feldspar had taken the Adornments into the shower with her to wash off the blood, but instead of wearing them afterwards, had wrapped the Circlet and Chain in a towel and put them on the kitchen counter. The Sceptre was propped against the refrigerator. And Feldspar seemed every bit as dazed as she herself felt, if not more.

  Lupa waited until they were in the first elevator, away from the blood and on their way down before saying anything. "You're going to have to pull yourself back together. You know it's not over yet."

  "What isn't? What do you mean?"

  "The Adornments aren't home. Belinda will still be after them. And my father."

  "I know, but I've been so focused on getting the Adornments that now..." She paused. "I feel strange, almost as if the Adornments have me, instead of the other way around. Things will never be the same."

  "Would you want them to be? I sure as hell wouldn't. I hope this doesn't sound too awful, but I feel like my life began the moment Delbert's ended."

  In the elevator, sinking to the ground, Feldspar kept reminding herself Lupa was right... it wasn't over. She had to stay alert, ready for anything--ready to fight Belinda. She felt taller, everything around her sharper--more easily seen, her ears rang with what she couldn't help thinking of as the music of the spheres, but was more likely mildly damaged eardrums. But the Adornments were hers. No, make that, she had the Adornments.

  And she and the Adornments were still on Terra. The quest was to return them to their proper place, take them back to Diluvia where they belonged. Her senses were heightened. She could sense Lupa beside her, feel her still dangerous but now somehow comforting power. On the other side of Lupa, Larry--a dull red, smouldering coal. They'd had to bring him along. What else could they have done?

  The elevator floated to a halt. A short march down a corridor and into the second. It stopped several times for people to get in. They all looked at her, then quickly away. The towel with the Circlet and the Chain under one hand might seem normal, but the Sceptre couldn't be concealed. Lupa met her eyes then glanced around at the others in the elevator and almost imperceptibly shook her head. What? Oh, that might not be a bad idea.

  "No one here has seen anything out of the ordinary, have they?"

  A light murmur of denials followed her statement. Lupa sighed. "That's too general. What's normal?"

  "Not you... okay, none of you saw me carrying anything. And I'm sure you all remember me getting on at the twentieth floor."

  "Of course." "Sure, we do." "Naturally."

  The elevator stopped at the ground floor. Lupa hadn't said anything more, so evidently she thought the situation was covered. Not so. "Would have been better for them not to remember you at all," she said once they were alone in the lobby.

  "I suppose."

  "Hey, what the fuck was we doin' on the twentieth?" Larry asked.

  * * * * *

  The quest party, minus Rabid, was in the Bent-Arm Bistro. Roger and Sian were holding hands, and Susan had moved tight up against Hilldweller, her head resting on the seer's shoul
der. Ishtar slipped out from the booth, that familiar twisted smile on her face.

  "Feldspar... have you done something different with your hair? And could those be the fabled Adornments?" A smile for Lupa... an eyebrow flickered up. "A turncoat for a turncoat... fair exchange. And I expect you'll be much better for her than the damn elf ever would have been."

  Trust her to misinterpret. "Oh, and by the way, wolf-sister," Ishtar continued. "In case you're interested, your father is still present with us in this world."