Billy Purgatory and the Curse of the Satanic Five (36 page)

“Do you know where we're going?” Lissandra called over to Morta.

Morta nodded.

“Is that something you can share with me?”

“We're going to Mu.”

Lissandra leaned back into the headrest and closed her eyes. “Oh, well of course we are.”

Morta seemed to like saying it. “Mu Mu.”

An hour of nothing but plane noise passed and Lissandra didn't open her eyes until she felt the craft come to a stop in the air, and heard the mechanics of it all change as jets fired down and the plane began to slowly descend.

Moon was making her way back before they hit the ground, she slapped the foreheads of her tiny army as she passed each, rousing them from slumber. “This is why we buy you idiots helmets.”

Moon had changed her clothing, there was still a lot of leather, and of course it was all black — gone was her blood-stained unicorn top and it was replaced by a much more form-fitting leather number that showed off her figure — Lissandra considered that actually might well be one of the functions of it.

Anything that can distract someone in a fight seemed legal.

Moon gripped overhead handholds as she went along. She pressed the big green button herself which would lower the ramp at the back of the plane. Lissandra watched as the hydraulics let it slowly down. Blue sky and sandy beaches came into view.

Lissandra let her buckles come undone and watched the soldiers spill out of the plane following Moon. The gypsy pulled herself up from her seat and didn't worry about Morta, she was confident that the girl would be no more than three steps behind her.

She stood in the sand and marveled at new surroundings. If nothing else, the view was pristine. The plane had landed on a tiny island, there was jungle to Lissandra's left and water all around. There was what looked like heavy equipment, which was covered in canvas tarps. A bulldozer and a backhoe — perhaps a dump truck or cement mixer. She didn't focus on any of that for very long though.

To Lissandra's right is where things got really interesting. The airship was massive, much larger than anything she'd ever seen in the sky before. It was tethered to the island by chains which extended from various points on the undercarriage of the vessel and to enormous steel pylons which rose out of the island. It dwarfed the island itself, and sent a vast shadow out over the ocean. It was inspiring, even to Lissandra who was typically uninterested in anything not of nature, that something that large could be floating in the air.

There was something odd about the vessel, beyond its size — the more she looked at it the more she began to realize that it wasn't a typical airship. It was solid, a vast brushed nickel egg, completely metallic. Lissandra was no expert on blimps, but…

“What is that thing?”

Moon was walking up from the few troops she had left after sending them off in the direction of the small jungle. “That Lissandra, is my airship.”

“That is no Hindenburg.”

“You are quite right about that.”

“How does all that metal float?”

“Magic.” Moon smiled and began walking towards it.

“That is not magic.”

“Science is magic that works.”

“Your riddles plagiarize Kurt Vonnegut now?”

Moon stopped and looked back, “Oh you're right, that is Vonnegut. I didn't realize they had a library in the forest.”

“I've seen a book or two.”

“Books will bore you once you see what's written up ahead.”

The two women walked through the sand and around the plane, Morta was close behind.

“Why is she here, exactly?”

“Because Lissandra, I have her father and his evil minions off on a mission.”

“So we're babysitting her for him?”

“Actually, you're babysitting her and I'm babysitting you.”

“Why can't one of those useless soldiers of yours babysit her?”

“They are not useless, how do you think you got out of Level 5? One of them had to carry you out. While running from a tentacle monster I might add.”

“I'll have to thank him at some point.”

“He didn't make it. We grabbed you though.”

“Well, thanks for…” Lissandra's words just stopped coming out of her mouth when she saw it. She pointed, and Moon smiled, but still no words came.

The dome of black rock stone. Polished and shining in the sunlight, sitting in its own little naked peninsula at the far end of the island. Lissandra stared, and suddenly didn't notice the vast floating egg in the sky.

“My airship is starting to feel a little jealous, Lissandra.”

Morta came walking up to stand between the two women. “So, it is real.”

Moon nodded to the demon girl. “It is realer than real.”

Lissandra felt a pull coming from the thing — for some reason she wanted to sprint to the big shiny black eyeball of the island and run her hands over every inch of it.

“Moon, what is that thing and why do I feel so…?”

“…weak in the knees? It has that effect on people like you.”

“People like me?”

“People with a gift for telling fortunes.” Moon raised her arm and pointed her black gloved finger. “That Lissandra is the greatest smoked crystal ball this side of the galaxy has ever known. Everything about everyone as far back as the beginning of the third age has an entry etched into it — somewhere.”

“That's impossible.” Lissandra said the words, but she didn't believe them. She could feel it in her heart, and her gut, and her soul.
“If you have that thing then why can't you just read it and learn anything it is you'd want to know?”

“Because Lissandra, Billy Purgatory ruined it for all of us.”

Lissandra found herself walking towards it, but couldn't recall telling her legs to start moving. “What could he have possibly done? We haven't had the conversation, but you realize that the man you seek is an unemployed, army dropout, half-assed car mechanic whose primary mode of transportation is still a skateboard?”

“You get that he is completely unimportant in…” Lissandra looked back, but Moon was gone. Morta was standing where Lissandra had just left the two of them.

“She went back down the beach. She won't tell you, but she's really sad to be here.”

Lissandra couldn't even imagine something that could make Moon sad — she was an egotistical sociopath if one had ever existed. “What does she have to be sad about?”

“This is where he died. This island.”

“Where who died?”

“Broom. He was the one who found it. He'd been here for years learning how it worked and how to read its language. He was the only one who knew how to read it, and Billy Purgatory killed him.”

Lissandra scanned the beach and saw Moon staring out at the water. “So, that's why she's at war with Billy.”

“No Lissandra, that is not why she's at war with him. You and I will finish Broom's work here. We will learn the language of the stone.”

“Then why?”

“She wants Billy Purgatory to die because she was in love with Broom.”

Lissandra watched Moon standing all alone at the water. She loved something? How did this girl, Morta, know any of this anyway?

“Because.” Morta answered without Lissandra speaking the question aloud. “You're not the only one with a gift for seeing what is not easily seen.”

~29~

G
ETHSEMANE

THE OLD SOLDIER TENDED HIS FIRE PIT and sat comfortably before its warmth, his legs crossed on the sandy floor of the open shed. The reclaimed wood and tin structure had never been gifted a proper floor, and the fourth wall, which would have closed it off from the backyard, had never been constructed. He had lived there off and on for many years, and how it had always been was exactly as it should be in his mind.

Sometimes he would wander off into the woods beyond the fence, which was actually only half a fence since it didn't fully enclose the space behind the house from the woods beyond. He dug for roots mostly, but he also looked for fossils. He didn't find many fossils, and the ones he did find looked a lot like ordinary rocks. Perhaps he collected rocks, to be more precise.

Rocks could be so interesting, though.

More often than not, he stayed in the backyard, keeping his fire pit tended and watching the weeds and vines overtake most everything beyond his shed. He had never once thought to do anything about the overgrowth. It had been this way for a long time. He kept a neat and tidy swath in front of his shed cleared, but beyond that he liked the overgrowth, and the snakes had learned to keep clear of the Old Soldier.

He viewed his home — with the missing wall that looked into an overgrowing yard — as a sort of living painting. He felt there was no
reason to interrupt the cycle. It gave him much to contemplate, and contemplation kept him busy.

He'd gone into the house two days before. He didn't venture in there often, but it had been considerably wet and windy, so he felt it was time to treat himself to a new jacket. He found them all hanging in the closet between the two unused rooms at the top of the stairs.

He had noticed that someone had been there since he had last ventured in. Something was different. He realized that someone had knocked down a wall at the end of the dining room and revealed a door which led into what had been a hidden room. They'd made quite a mess in the process of doing so. A mess they'd not bothered to clean up.

The Old Soldier decided that the secrets of that room had most likely been disturbed enough, and that there was nothing in there for him. As he slipped on his new jacket, he saw that a sledgehammer had been left sitting on the dining room table.

“Billy Purgatory.” He shook his head as he walked back into the rain and the further tending of his fire.

The sun had been out the days after that, but on the day of the conversation, it had become quite overcast once more. He found that odd, the weather changing to such a degree so quickly. He'd really thought the season's storms had ended.

It was rare for her to leave the woods. It was even rarer for her to walk into the backyard. She had been a pretty thing once, but she was starting to show her age. It was easy enough for him to regard the beauty, even though he had given up on all those things that the admiration of beauty leads to a long time ago.

“He has finally created enough chaos and made enough noise that they can ignore him no longer.” She spoke in her plain, yet commanding way. As if every word from her lips was an official decree.

She didn't leave the shadow under the elm tree. The Old Soldier looked over his fire to her. “Warm yourself.”

The Goddess shook her head. There was a little slouch to her, a slight twist of her back. Her ears didn't look so pointy and her antlers not as straight. She had never put on the complete official airs with him. The young ones, her children — her worshippers, if you asked her — with them, she made sure her hair was done up and her makeup was on when she went to give them a sermon.

“He's been in the house, can't believe I missed him.” Well, the Old Soldier could actually believe that he had missed him. He hadn't concerned himself with that kid since he'd been a little skateboarding boy. “Send your pupil after him. Doesn't she usually calm him down? Distract him at least?”

Artemis made her face into disdain. “She follows another now. She is lost to me.”

“After all you've done for her.” He said it flatly, and it came out more mocking than he'd considered it might, but he let the truth stand.

Artemis turned her sour face to him. “I don't see what you find so amusing about any of this. They are coming for him, and where do you think will be one of the first places they'll look?”

“Maybe they've already been here and I missed them too?”

“Now you're being repulsive. When they do come here, it will be something that you cannot miss.”

The Old Soldier looked to her and was struck that he didn't really recognize her anymore. The longer he looked, the less she resembled the lady he'd once known. “I have enjoyed our chats.”

“You speak as if you're wishing me off on a voyage that you too are not about to undertake.”

He reached for his bottle. “Are you sure you wouldn't care for some tequila before you go?”

Artemis placed her hands on her hips and looked at him like he was mad as he took a shot straight from the bottle. “You mean to stay? You are old and foolish.”

“True, I am those things.” He set his bottle back into the sand beside him. “But I'm also still pretty and I ain't dead yet.” He looked over the painting of the backyard that Artemis would soon erase her image from. “I also made a promise.”

“What promise?”

“If what you say is happening is really happening, then I'm not leaving. If anything, it's the whole reason for me being here in the first place.”

“Then so be it. I am leaving the woods forever. Our last chat was my final stop.” She gave him a nod and the Old Soldier nodded back.

The Goddess looked towards the trees, but didn't flee to them just yet. “What if I am wrong, and they don't come for him? Would you ever leave this place?”

“How could I ever?” He reached for his bottle once again. “The yard grows higher and higher every day, right before my eyes.”

“You're afraid you'll find her again if you venture too far from these familiar weeds?”

“If I was to leave here or never leave it wouldn't matter. I'm destined to see her again.” The Old Soldier wouldn't allow himself to call up her face in his mind's eye.

“You're the saddest creature, Soldier. The only I've ever met who is heartsick for being evicted from Hell.”

She was staring toward the Old Soldier's eyes, even though he had them closed tight. Emerald points, rivers of red silk, lips that spilled lies.

Salted tongue.

“It's not Hell I miss so much, Goddess, it's the landlady.”

II.

There were helicopters just before first light. The Old Soldier had watched the troopers in riot gear rappelling from ropes into the woods behind the house. He knew then with all certainty that the Goddess was truly gone. They did the same sliding action down ropes suspended over the front yard.