Late Eclipses

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Late Eclipses Page 36

by Seanan McGuire


  This entire escapade was breaking several rules of life in the mortal world, chief among them the injunction to never, ever go out in public without wearing a human disguise. I was still wearing my illusions. Dianda and the Goblins, on the other hand, were totally exposed. There wasn’t time to worry about it. Hopefully, anyone who saw a woman riding a screaming mermaid in a wheelchair down Leavenworth at fifteen minutes to five o’clock in the morning would just think they’d had too much to drink.

  We were still accelerating. Gasping, I managed to ask, “Is this a good time for that visit?” Dianda stared at me, eyes widening in understanding, before she nodded.

  We were almost to the bottom of the hill when I fumbled the scale out of my pocket and shoved it into my mouth. It dissolved like spun sugar, leaving my tongue coated in a gummy-tasting film. A taxi blared by, horn blazing as we hit the dock, shooting forward. Dianda screamed again, the sound magnified by proximity to my ears, and I heard a crossbow bolt whiz by as I yanked the pin from the lining of my jacket and jammed it into the meaty part of my right thigh with all the force I could muster.

  Then we hit the water, and everything went black.

 

 

 


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