by Isaac Hooke
He had more important things to tell her in any case. He steeled himself—
Cora got up abruptly, and reclined on the bed instead. She lowered her face to the pillow and looked at him. "I swore that if I ever saw you again, I'd do something nasty. Try to hurt you somehow. Breaking the mandolin seemed the best way. Further punishing myself. But that's silly. It really is. I've punished myself enough. And I don't want to hurt you. I really don't. That's not who I am. I told myself that you were the source of all the trouble and anguish in my life. But it's not you. It's me. It's always been me."
Hoodwink sighed. He was going to tell her about Ari. He was. In a bit. "Ten years. Even after ten years, you're still grieving. Still blaming yourself. You've just let it build up over the years, haven't you?"
Cora smiled fleetingly. "We shouldn't have sold her, Hoodwink. What were we thinking? What right did we have? Revising our daughter. Changing her because we didn't like what we thought she was becoming. What if it was just a phase? What if she would have met a nice young man and married a few months after? What if...?" She fingered her caller.
He wanted to tell her that they did what they thought was right for Ari, that they did their best for her, but he knew that wasn't true. It was the money that convinced them in the end. One hundred thousand drachmae. Hoodwink wouldn't have to work ever again. Nor Cora. Funny thing was, when they got the money, they never spent a coin of it. Stowed it away in the closet. It felt too much like blood money. Consumed by guilt, they tried to buy Ari back a month later. Jeremy wanted ten times the price. Cora went running to her brother, Briar, but even he couldn't afford such an outrageous sum.
"We thought we did the right thing," was all Hoodwink could manage.
Cora smiled so sardonically that it felt like she'd slapped him in the face. "The right thing? Selling our daughter to a madman was the right thing?"
"We didn't know he was a madman at the time. He was the mayor of the city. It felt like we'd won the lottery. We'd get money, influence..."
"She was too beautiful, Hoodwink. We always knew that. Beauty attracts the worst kind of men. I should've known. I've experienced more than my share of them." She gave him a significant look.
Hoodwink let the insult pass. In fact, he was rather glad she'd said it, because it reminded him of the old, spirited Cora.
But the time for distractions was past. He had to tell her. But it would destroy her. It had almost destroyed him. Well, looking at her, there wasn't much left to destroy, was there?
"Ari's dead," Hoodwink said.
Cora laughed. She actually laughed. With her hoarse voice, it sounded more like sandpaper rasping against a tree trunk. "Get out of here, Hoodwink. You can't hurt me anymore. No one can."
"I'm serious." Hoodwink met her eye. She had to see it in his face. She had to see the sorrow. "You know I wouldn't lie about something like this."
"That's impossible. I just saw her a few days ago." The blood drained from Cora's face. "I just saw her I just saw her!" Cora's eyes squeezed shut, and her fingers tightened around the pillow until the knuckles went white. Blood from her fingertips smeared the fabric.
He couldn't take it anymore. He had to touch her. Had to hold her.
Hoodwink hurried to the bedside and lifted her in his arms. She was like a dead weight, all rigid and tense. She kept the pillow pressed firmly to her face. The tears flowed from her eyes.
"I'm so sorry," Hoodwink said.
Cora looked at him, eyes red, accusing. "I don't believe you. I don't I don't."
"She fell," Hoodwink said. "She was climbing the Forever Gate, and she fell."
"She fell," Cora echoed. "Climbing the Forever Gate." Her head started to sink, and then she looked up abruptly. "You put her up to it, didn't you?"
"No Cora," he said gently. "It wasn't me, not this time. It was all Ari. A choice she made. To protect someone else."
Cora nodded. "Just like her, to give her life for someone else. Just like my Yolinda."
"Cora, I'm going to save her, I am."
She stiffened. "What game are you playing? You just said she was dead."
"No game." Hoodwink regarded her as tenderly as he could, and combed the tear-matted hair from her face. "She is dead. I've seen her body. But I have a way to save her. You know I wouldn't tell you if I didn't."
Her features scrunched up in confusion. "You would bring her back from the dead?"
"I would."
"But how can that be possible?"
"You have to trust me, Cora. You know I wouldn't say it if it weren't true." Hoodwink continued to stroke her hair. "What's impossible, is possible. Ari told me those words."
"You're mad." Cora wiggled from his grasp.
Hoodwink sighed. "No."
"Then tell me how you would do it."
He let his tender smile deepen. "I'm not sure how I can explain it so you'll understand, but I'll try." He paused to collect his thoughts. "Something of her essence was taken away before she died. I'm going to take that essence back. And once I have it, there's a chance I can save her."
"So there's only a chance," Cora said, slumping again. "You made it sound like a certainty."
"I swear I'll do my best to bring her back," Hoodwink said. "That's all I can offer. That's all I can promise. A chance. And that I'll do my best."
"I believe you." She nodded to herself. "I actually believe you." Cora gripped his collar then, and he felt the electricity flowing into him. She spoke urgently, though her voice was little more than a whisper. "You bring her back, Hoodwink, you hear? I don't care if you have to break apart this world or the next, the nine hells or the afterlife. Destroy it all. But you bring— her— back."
It might just come to the destruction of this world, though Hoodwink sincerely hoped not. "I will." His voice was a whisper too now. "I will, Cora."
He looked into her eyes. There was something he hadn't seen there for a long time.
Forgiveness.
The door to the room slammed open and Hoodwink started.
It was Tanner. "Hood, come quick!"
Hoodwink sprung up in alarm. "What is it?"
"There's an emissary from Jeremy at the gate to the Den. He's demanding the Dwarf."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As Hoodwink hurried along the snowpack streets of the Black Den, Tanner explained that the children had returned his message. "They're in Omega Station."
"Good good," Hoodwink said distractedly. His mind was on Cora. She had forgiven him at long last. Maybe after this was over...
"So when we return Outside," Tanner continued. "I say we go to Omega Station, and meet with them right away."
"Great great. I agree."
"They've been busy, by the way. Sent me the source for some gifts."
That piqued Hoodwink's interest. "Gifts?"
"Lightning rings."
"Lightning rings," Hoodwink deadpanned.
"Each one has a charge similar to vitra. With the rings, anyone can use lightning—collared or uncollared, human or gol. But the rings follow the same rules as ordinary vitra, and need time to recharge."
"The children can make unlimited fire swords but they can't make unlimited lightning rings?"
Tanner shrugged. "I'll see if I can change that sometime. Oh, and I couldn't find Brute. So I can't give you confirmation on the disk."
Hoodwink nodded curtly. "Doesn't matter. Jeremy has it I'm sure. And we all know where he is." Though it probably wasn't the greatest idea for Hoodwink to seek out Jeremy so soon. In Hoodwink's current state, he had no idea what he'd do to the man.
Hoodwink and Tanner turned onto the street that led to the main gates. Here, the wives and children of the ruffians who lived in the Den were peering from the doorways of their shack-homes, wondering at the commotion by the entrance.
Around the gate itself, a hubbub of Denizens had gathered, mostly the meanest rough-and-toughs. Hoodwink shoved his way forward—he never heard so many insults directed his way in all his life. After gett
ing through that mess, he and Tanner joined Jacob at the front, just behind Cap and Al.
Jacob gave him a sidelong glance, and the old man said, underbreath, "Jeremy's Emissary wants to parley for the Dwarf."
Beyond the gate stood a curious specimen, a gol of a type Hoodwink had never seen before. Tanner had told him of the new gols, the 'Direwalkers' as he called them, but this gol didn't match his descriptions. It wore a long black coat and gauntlets of black metal. When the gol opened its mouth, all its front teeth were long and pointy, not just the canines. The gol seemed to enjoy flashing those sharp teeth, and it took every opportunity to do just that. There was a strange symbol on its coat—a sun with rays of all different sizes. The symbol seemed vaguely familiar, but Hoodwink couldn't place it.
"The Den shall suffer badly," the Emissary was saying. "Very badly."
Cap glanced behind. He smiled broadly when he saw Hoodwink, and he wrapped his arm around Hoodwink's shoulder as if they were the best of friends. "So what do you think? You're a gol. Is it telling the truth?"
Hoodwink regarded Cap warily. "Hell if I know, I just got here. What's it saying?"
"Oh, not too much. Just that Jeremy will unleash his full wrath on this place if we don't give up the Dwarf. That he'll burn the Den down, cut out all our hearts, and hang our heads from the parapets of our own wall. Yada yada yada."
Hoodwink pursed his lips. "Well, I have a wee bit of experience dealing with gols. Do you mind?" Hoodwink beckoned at the gate.
"By all means," Cap said. "In fact, I insist."
"Good." Hoodwink slid out from under the man's arm. "You wouldn't happen to have a sword?"
Cap glanced at Al, who drew his blade and handed the weapon hilt-first to Hoodwink.
"Open the gate," Hoodwink announced to no one in particularly.
After a pause—likely Cap was nodding his confirmation to someone again—the gatehouse winch turned, and the portcullis lifted.
Hoodwink strode outside. He'd only taken three steps when the gate slammed shut behind him. He was all too aware of the arrows trained down from the walkways above, not all of them pointing at the Emissary.
The gol flashed its teeth. "And who are you?"
Hoodwink twirled the blade, making a few feints, testing its weight. The sword passed near the Emissary's head, but the gol didn't even blink.
"Name's Hoodwink," he said.
"Hoode-Wink." The gol passed its tongue over the lower half of its sharp teeth.
"Yes. Remember that name. Your master will recognize it. So tell me, you're threatening to destroy the Den?"
The Emissary cocked its head. "It is not I who threatens. I am the Emissary. I speak only the words of the mayor."
Using the Emissary's shoulder for balance, Hoodwink lifted one of his boots and used the sword to scrape snow and mud from his sole. "And what are the mayor's words, exactly?"
"Give up the Dwarf, and mayor Jeremy's remaining property, or these walls shall come tumbling down and this evil that thrives in the heart of the city shall be rooted out." Its breath misted in hateful plumes. "Relinquish the Dwarf or the Den shall be raped and pillaged in a fitting end to the raping and pillaging criminals who live within. Return Jeremy's property or the Den shall be burned down, your hearts cut out, and your heads hung—"
Hoodwink raised a halting hand. "I heard that last part from the Calico already. Wonderfully theatrical." He circled the Emissary, casually flourishing the sword. "But tell me, what about the women and children who live here? The innocents?"
"There shall be no quarter." The Emissary flashed those too-white teeth.
"Why bother with an Emissary," Hoodwink said. "Jeremy could just break down these walls and take the Dwarf, and the Boxes. His pet, Brute, could probably do it all by itself. Why bother to negotiate?"
The Emissary spread its hands, saying nothing, grinning that toothy grin.
"There's something you're not telling me," Hoodwink said. "What are you about, gol? What the hell are you about?"
And then he understood.
That symbol on its chest, it wasn't a sun with shining rays.
"Bomb!" Hoodwink shouted.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hoodwink swept the sword in a wide arc and cleanly separated the Emissary's head from its body. Hoodwink caught the head by the hair, tossed it in front of him, and gave it a boot. The thing hurtled skyward.
Hoodwink's big toe throbbed with sudden pain, and he turned about, limping. "Gah! Damn skulls!" He blocked-out the agony in time to watch the airborne head explode.
The shock-wave hurled Hoodwink into the metal bars of the portcullis, which rattled as if from thunder. He fell forward on his knees, and a red-tinged string of snot plunged from his nose, smearing the shoveled cobblestone.
His head swayed drunkenly. He forced himself to rise. First one boot. Then the other. He leaned heavily on the portcullis and pulled himself up.
Movement drew his eye past the drifts of snow that formed the ramparts four paces from the wall. In the adjacent street, Hoodwink saw figures gathering, stacked three ranks deep. A few of them snarled, and he saw those famous finger-long canines Tanner had told him about.
So. The newfangled 'Direwalkers.' He'd wondered how they would turn out.
Hoodwink spun toward the portcullis. "Let me in."
"Belay that," Cap said.
Hoodwink felt his anger rise. He'd just saved this fool's entire Den. "Let me in you ungrateful son of an arse."
"How did you know?" the leader of the Black Faction said.
Hoodwink grasped two of the long metallic bars and pulled. The thick steel bars didn't budge.
Cap glanced over his shoulder and stepped back a pace. He threw his hands forward in a gesture of attack. Denizens thrust past the man, and before Hoodwink knew it he had five pikes reaching through the bars at him, licking his throat.
"Tell me how you knew." Cap said.
Tanner spoke up. "Just let him inside, Cap." Other men immediately spun on Tanner now and lifted their pikes to his neck. Tanner carefully raised his hands and made no further move.
"Don't you have other, more pressing matters to focus on?" Hoodwink tilted his head in the direction of the gathering Direwalker ranks.
Cap raised his voice so that all might hear. "Tell us how you knew Jeremy's Emissary had a bomb, Hoodwink dear friend."
"The symbol on its chest," Hoodwink said. "The rays were all different sizes. Of course it had to be a bomb."
Cap massaged his chin. "That explanation is almost plausible. But, how did you know the bomb was in its head?"
"There's so much you don't know," Hoodwink said. "So so much." And then he added, underbreath, "You pompous peacock."
"What was that?" Cap lifted an eyebrow.
"He called you a pompous peacock, sir!" one of the pike-wielding thugs said. Angry-Scar, actually.
Cap self-consciously tugged the hem of his fur collar. "How unfortunate for him."
"All right." Hoodwink raised his hands in surrender. "All right. How did I know the bomb was in its head? I'm a gol. We can place maps of the city over our vision. We can read someone's face and tell right away if they're lying. And we can see bombs in other gols' damn heads."
Cap rubbed his chin. He glanced at Al. The former user shrugged. "Don't look at me."
"Tanner!" Hoodwink said. "Tell them."
Momentary confusion flitted across Tanner's face, but then he supported the lie. "Hoodwink is right. Gols can do things ordinary humans can't even imagine. I felt the bomb in the Emissary's head too."
"You felt the bomb." Cap looked between Tanner and Hoodwink. "One can see the bomb, and the other can feel the bomb. I don't trust them, Al. I just don't trust them."
Hoodwink held his gaze. "The feeling is mutual."
"Pikes down!" Cap said at last. "Open the gate. Quickly!"
The pikes left Hoodwink's throat, and the portcullis clanged upward.
Hoodwink didn't wait—when the portcullis had reached knee-high
he rolled inside.
"Shut it!" Cap said.
The bars slammed down.
Cap was gazing past Hoodwink. "I almost expected Jeremy's playthings to try running inside with you."
Hoodwink returned the sword to Al, then turned around. The Direwalkers remained where he'd last seen them beyond the rampart, but their numbers continued to grow.
"What are they waiting for?" Cap said.
"Another bomb, maybe?" Hoodwink glanced skyward. The ravens were still there, circling just outside bow range.
Cap followed his gaze. "Can Jeremy put bombs in birds?"
That was an interesting thought. Hoodwink didn't think so. He glanced at Tanner.
"The restraints of the system would prevent it," Tanner said.
"The what?" Cap twisted his lips.
"No bombs in birds," Hoodwink said. "Too small."
"But those Boxes of yours can hold a room far bigger than the chests that house them."
"Those operate under different principles," Tanner said.
"Whatever you say." Cap glanced at Hoodwink. "To hell with your Boxes and your birds and your bombs!" He swiveled on the pikemen. "Shut the inner door!"
The men closed the massive wooden doors that lay behind the portcullis, shutting the Direwalkers from view.
"Who does Jeremy think he is, coming up against us!" Cap said. "We're the Black Faction! Experts at murder and thievery!" Cap paced back and forth, and then he opened a slot in the door and peered outside. His confident demeanor abruptly fell, and Hoodwink saw the raw fear on his face. Cap slammed the slot shut. He'd grown very pale. "They just keep coming and coming." The man's fear was contagious, and Hoodwink noticed that the men nearest their leader were fidgeting nervously now, Al and Jacob included. Cap glanced at Jacob. "If only we had more lightning men."
"We're uncollaring more at this very moment," Jacob said. "But it's slow going. Five minutes per collar."