Unearthed (47 page)

At that, Father Nguyen’s eyes snapped wide. “Is that so?”

“That’s so,” Bill said. “We have it on reliable authority that she’s close. That she’ll be putting it all together in the very near future. And I take it by your reaction that you’re nearing believing me?”

Nguyen jerked his collar again. “I am familiar with the ritual you spoke of.” He lowered his voice. “What do you need it performed upon?”

“Something … unconventional,” Bill said.

“It takes fourteen hours,” Nguyen said, shaking his head. “And more than I can tell you goes into it.”

“Money is no object,” Bill said.

“That’s good to hear,” Nguyen said, “because it’s going to cost a lot. And not just in materials. I’ll need the assistance of the Mother Superior from the convent at—”

“Whatever you need,” Bill said. “I can provide money in compensation. Do you need anything else I can get for you?”

“No,” Nguyen said and fussed with his collar again. “Just time and, as you would say it, a big fat check when it’s done.”

“I don’t know that we have fourteen hours,” Bill said, “so you might want to get started. Because I have a feeling that this thing is about to get out.”

Nguyen sighed. “I will do what I can. Where’s the weapon you want enchanted?” Brian watched as Bill smiled, tugging it out of his pocket carefully. Nguyen just stared and finally shook his head. “Wow. You weren’t kidding about unconventional.”

Arch fidgeted at the table. The place was set up like a dining room, with lush furnishings and finishes all around, highlighting that this was no ordinary farmhouse out in the country. The smell of incense burned lightly in the air, reminding Arch of a day spa he’d once waited for Alison at. The walls were red, deep maroon and rich, and the décor hinted at a level of luxury that the outside of the house did not at all suggest.

Spellman was sitting across from him. He had a full head of hair that turned steel at the temples. He wore a jacket that seemed like it might be more appropriate on a Bond villain, green with gold highlights. His fingers were pulled together, the tips touching one another, and his face was lively, a smile that was just a little understated for his features. “So … you’re here for a cocktail.”

“I don’t tend to do much drinking,” Arch said, looking toward the window. There was no sunlight outside, and he couldn’t really see much in the way of detail through the shears.

“Not for you, of course. For our good friend Corporal Hendricks, who is in a little bit of a bind at the moment.” Spellman paused, seemed to think about it. “He’s gonna have a little more trouble toeing the line than he used to, am I right?” He slapped the table. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

“Well, you know why I’m here, then,” Arch said.

“Yes, it was a terrible thing,” Spellman said, nodding, now solemn. “I tried to intercede on his behalf with Duchess Elizabeth.”

“Very kind of you,” Arch said. “Is that why he’s still breathing?”

“I wouldn’t care to speculate how much influence I have over a powerful woman like her,” Spellman said, shaking his head. “But I did what I could, and we both know she’s not much for mercy.” Spellman pulled his hands apart, showed Arch his pale palms. “But now that that … unpleasantness is over, it’s time to pick up the pieces.” He coughed. “Man, I just keep walking right into these unpleasant metaphors. Time for the healing to begin, I suppose would be the better way to say it.”

“Hendricks has always paid you money,” Arch said, feeling the weight of a roll of crumpled bills in his jacket. “How much do you want?”

“Mmm,” Spellman said, like he was thinking about it, “that’s a problem. See … the cost of these things,” he pulled a vial out of a seemingly empty hand and placed it on the table, glowing bright blue and unearthly with liquid, “is somewhat graduated. The first was free. The second cost money. This time, though?” Spellman shook his head. “Money’s not going to be quite enough.”

“Pound of flesh?” Arch asked.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of pounds of flesh,” Spellman said, dismissing him with a wave. “And bone and meat, gallons of blood … all the little niceties demons like to have on hand.”

“Ugh,” Arch said, feeling his stomach turn once, good.

“Flesh is an easily traded commodity,” Spellman said. “It comes in, it goes out. Even the veal is cheap. Get an addict with a kid—”

“Stop,” Arch said, half a second from throwing back his chair and storming out. “Quit trying to shock me with how horrible you are as a person—”

“I’m not a person,” Spellman said pleasantly. “And you shouldn’t say that in the demon community. I’m very tolerant, but some people might get offended.”

“Yeah, well,” Arch said, “plenty of offense rolling around at the moment.”

“I’m sorry,” Spellman said in the same pleasant tone. “I think I just wanted to remind you that this isn’t Wal-Mart. It’s not your local grocery, as you can tell since your wife doesn’t work here.” Spellman smiled. “This is a shop of old world wonders. Sometimes we’ll accept your new world currency. Money, after all, does grease the skids. Makes the world go ’round, at least nowadays. But like I said, we’re old world, too. I don’t exactly have a mortgage to cover.” He spread his hands out to encompass the room they were in. “I’m interested in other things.”

“Like what?” Arch asked, wary.

“Would you like something to eat?” Spellman asked, and there was suddenly a tray between them.

“I’m not hungry,” Arch answered.

“You’re getting good at being false,” Spellman said with a grin. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

Arch bit back a cringe. “Long time. And you’re right, I did just bear false witness. My mistake. I told a little white lie I shouldn’t have in order to dodge getting fed by the likes of you.”

“You lied,” Spellman said. “People lie all the time, of course, but you’re supposed to be better, aren’t you?”

“I’m not better than anyone,” Arch said.

“Mmmm,” Spellman said and pushed the silver tray toward Arch. The smell of it wafted toward him and he took a look. It had some bite-sized chicken skewers with banana peppers, something else that looked like steak, grapes and apple slices, all surrounding some sort of dipping sauce. “It’s not poison, if that’s what you’re worried about. And it’s not human meat, either. Free-range chicken and grass-fed Iowa beef. As American as apple pie.”

“No, thank you,” Arch said.

“Hmmmm,” Spellman said, furrowing his brow. “I assumed you’d be very interested in having a bite. You’ve got to be just … starving by now.”

“I’ll have something to eat on the way home,” Arch said. “I don’t have a long enough spoon to sup with you.”

“I’m not the devil,” Spellman said with a grin.

“Well, if you are, you’re the one I don’t know,” Arch said.

“Have a bite, then,” Spellman said, “get to know me.”

“I’ll pass,” Arch said. “Can we get to business?”

“All work and no play makes you so very dull,” Spellman said. “And not very impressive. I’ve been hearing tell of what you’ve done. You and your team, with Hendricks. It beggars belief that you could defeat Ygrusibas, thwart Gideon, and stop the boy with the flaming jism.”

Arch cringed back at that last bit. “Well, it got done, and that’s all that counts.”

“You really think you can handle Kitty Elizabeth, though?” Spellman asked. The tray of food was still there at his elbow, looking more than a little enticing. “I mean, you’ve bumbled your way this far, surely. She’s where the challenge gets truly astronomical, especially if she puts together the Rog’tausch. That thing is like nothing you’ve ever faced. Do you even know her story? Because they’re afraid of her in hell. They don’t want her back. Do you have any idea what it takes to get on the shit list in the underworld?” He leaned in. “This lady … is beyond you.”

“We’ll face up to her when the time comes, I reckon.”

“You’ll lose,” Spellman said, face gone blank.

Arch stared straight at him. “I haven’t failed yet.”

“You’ll fail, it’ll be spectacular,” Spellman said. “There’s going to be blood everywhere. Everyone you know and love is going to die, violently, in front of you.”

“I doubt it,” Arch said with a shrug, trying to keep his cool. “If there’s going to be that much death, I suspect I’ll be one of the first to go.”

Spellman chuckled. “Come on. You’ve faced everything Midian has thrown at you so far. Shouldn’t you have a little more confidence?”

Arch blinked. “You’re looking for … pride?”

Spellman stared blankly at him for a moment then snapped his fingers. “Caught me.” He smiled.

Arch looked at the silver tray of food. “And that was … like the …” He leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

“I know it hasn’t exactly been forty days and nights of fasting for you,” Spellman said and nudged the tray toward Arch again, “but still … you should keep your strength up.”

“What do you get if you manage to tempt me?” Arch asked, leaning forward. “What does that do for you?”

Spellman’s face went blank, all emotion gone. “Who says it gets me anything? Maybe I just like the satisfaction of serving a man—”

“Serving me up right,” Arch said, “like a trussed-up pig, apple in my mouth, even.” He pointed at the apple slices.

“Let’s skip right to it, then,” Spellman said, and the food was gone as if it had never even been there. “You want me to give you the power to defy the natural laws of the universe and heal your friend. That power doesn’t come cheap.”

“Power never does,” Arch said, leaning back, folding his arms. He could see the game now, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to play.

“You think you can take the Rog’tausch without your buddy the Marine?” Spellman asked, and he slid the little blue vial in front of him, touching the ends with one finger from each hand.

“You say I can’t take him even with my friend,” Arch said. “So what does it matter anyway?”

Spellman paused, just for a beat. “I can help you. I can make it possible for you to defeat the Rog’tausch. And all it will take is—”

Arch stood, carefully, not knocking over the chair. “No, thank you.”

Spellman made a “pffft,” noise. “This isn’t a negotiating ploy. You can’t beat that thing alone.”

“Then I won’t beat it,” Arch said, and stood tall. Spellman looked tiny. “Thank you for your time.”

“You walk out that door,” Spellman said, “everyone in this town dies.”

“I stay here and come to an accord with you,” Arch said, “I think I’ll be kissing my soul goodbye. I can’t control the world. Can’t save it. Everybody on this earth is going to die at some point, and that’s just the way it is. I’ll get out there and I will lay my life on the line—as long as there’s a breath in my body and an ability to move in my limbs, I will fight to keep this town safe.” He started to turn, just looking at Spellman. “But I know how it ends if I stay here. I know what you want from me. And I know what you’ll give me in return—promises you’ll break. Power with strings so heavy they might as well be chains. And I will end up in chains, eventually, soulless, enslaved to you.”

“You have no idea what you’re up against,” Spellman said.

“I’m up against
you
,” Arch said with certainty. “Right at this moment. You’ve been trying to tempt me to go against everything I believe since the minute I walked in that door. Asking me to take another step toward a line I don’t want to cross. You make it sound so easy, so carefree, so unimportant—‘Have a bite.’ ‘Save your friend.’ Like that’s all there is to it.” Arch stared at Spellman, and for the first time he could see something deeper behind those eyes, something hidden, something …

Frightening.

“You could save the whole world, Archibald Stan,” Spellman said, rising to his feet just a little too fast. “It’s right there. You could have the power—”

“Save the whole world,” Arch said, nodding his head, “lose myself. I believe the world is already saved, see. And I don’t believe that you’re telling me the truth right now, either.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” Spellman said. “And when it happens that the world burns around you, I want you to look back on this moment and remember that you … you stood here … and told me ‘no.’” There was an urgent hunger in the way he said it.

“If that moment ever comes,” Arch said, pointing to where he came in, “I doubt I’ll remember this conversation. I’ll just remember that you tried to trick me from the word go. That you laid down a bed of lies, of temptations, that you offered me the world but didn’t want to share the price. You wanted to hand me a bargain but not spell out the terms—well, Spell-man,” Arch said, “I think I can pass on that deal in good conscience.” And he walked out of the dining room.

“You can’t leave,” Spellman said, following Arch.

“Did you bar the door?” Arch asked, walking toward the exit, not looking back. “Because otherwise, I am out of here.” He reached the door and twisted the knob, pulling it open to reveal the sunlit porch. He could see the car down at the bottom of the steps, and Alison waiting, leaning against the hood, head turning as she caught sight of him—

“Stop,” Spellman said, landing a palm on the door and shutting it. His face was sweaty, and he swallowed heavily. He didn’t seem hostile, just a little desperate. “Wait.”

“I don’t want your deals,” Arch said, and he had never been more certain of anything in his life. “I don’t think I can pay the unasked price.”

“Take it,” Spellman said, shoving the blue vial into Arch’s hand. He pursed his lips. “Take it, damn you.”

Arch stared at the blue vial and then thrust it back at Spellman. “I don’t want to be beholden to you.”

“You’re not,” Spellman snapped. “This isn’t for you. It’s for Corporal Hendricks.”

Arch stared at the vial, watched the light catch it and turn his palm blue. “I’m not sure I want to be involved in this particular bit of commerce.”

“Consider it paid for,” Spellman said with a sudden fury. “There is no obligation attached.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart, then,” Arch said, now even more suspicious. “Why do I doubt that?”

“Go face the Rog’tausch,” Spellman said, and now he just seemed disgusted. “Go have a taste of what you’re up against. And when you’ve felt the hot breath of the coming apocalypse—”