by A. Sparrow
Chapter 13: Alecto’s Invitation
“Nuh-uh,” says Sabonis. “We ain’t going out there.”
I gape at the utter blackness of the creature outside our cave. Haurvil has no substance, no surfaces for light to play on, just a dark void with a human outline. Eyes and mouth lost in a pool of blackness make it impossible to gauge his expressions.
“You are Hector Delgado are you not?” says the Shade.
“Delgado? Hell, no. I ain’t Delgado.” Sabonis turns to me and chuckles. “The bitch thought I was Delgado!”
“I think you are ze Delgado,” says Haurvil, “And I tell her so.”
“No. I told you. I’m not Delgado. You got it all wrong, see? Now go away. We’ll be out of her hair tomorrow.”
“Who are you, if not ze Delgado?” says Haurvil.
“Scram,” says Sabonis, flipping his hand at the Shade. “Vamoose!”
“You are a friend of ze Delgado, perhaps?”
“Bastard’s no friend of mine,” says Sabonis. “Never even met him.”
“Interesting,” says Haurvil. “I sense you feel some hatred for him.”
“Enough of this crap. Go away!”
“Perhaps you would want for hees Shade to be freed like mine?”
“I wouldn’t wish that on anybody,” says Sabonis. “No offense.”
“Oooh … I sink I know who you are,” says Haurvil. “You are ze man who makes ze boats. You are ze Marco.”
“So what if I am?” says Sabonis.
“Every Shade knows you, of course. You were a Shade yourself once, yes? You came back from Avernus. No?”
“Never mind about that,” says Sabonis.
“Come,” he says. “My lady awaits. She makes ze hospitality for you. In her domicile. Unequaled in Lethe.”
“No thanks,” says Sabonis.
“What? You will make her have to come here to greet you?” says Haurvil. “Zis will not make her happy.”
“Bug off. Before I sic a Collector on you.”
“Heh-heh,” says Haurvil. “My mistress ees a Facilitator. I am immune to Collection.”