Widdershins (53 page)

Jack moved his head just enough so that the blade went by his ear, imbedding itself in the trunk of a cedar behind him with a dull
thunk.
It would be so easy to pluck it out of the wood and throw it back. He’d aim for the chest, though, not the head. Head shots were always tricky, but it was hard to miss as big a target as the cerva’s chest.

It took all his will power not to retaliate. Instead, he schooled his features to remain calm and took a steadying breath.

“I’m guessing you weren’t actually trying to hit me,” he said.

“Why would you think that?”

“Would you have missed?”

Ayabe laughed. “You’re a cocky one, I’ll give you that.” He waited a beat, then added, “Are you going to show me some respect and offer me a smoke?”

“Sure,” Jack said. “Why not. It wasn’t like you were trying to kill me.”

Taking out his tobacco and papers, he rolled a fat cigarette and lit it with his Zippo.

“Nice lighter,” Ayabe said as he accepted the proffered cigarette and took a drag.

“I won it from Cody in a game. Like I said—”

“You don’t lose.”

Jack shrugged. “Though gambling’s probably the only area in my life where that applies.”

Ayabe had a second drag and offered the cigarette back to Jack.

“That’s okay,” Jack said. “I’ll roll myself another.”

Ayabe looked across the lake while Jack built his own cigarette. The cerva absently rubbed his antlers against the cedar behind him as he smoked, creating a steady snowfall of bark flakes that fell to his shoulders.

“I’m guessing you’re here about the buffalo,” he said, once Jack got his own cigarette lit.

Jack nodded. “So you’ve heard about it.”

“A cousin would have to be dead and long in the grave not to have.” He paused, then added, “Though come to think of it, Minisino’s managed to swell his ranks with a great many spirits of the long dead, as well as the living that make up his own clan.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “He’s got himself an army, so you know this is going to be a mess. A lot of innocents are going to die.”

“You know where my sympathies lie. A lot of innocents are already dead.”

“I know, but—”

“I’m surprised you don’t feel the same.”

“I suppose I have a problem with laying the sins of the fathers on their children.”

“The aganesha who have been killing cerva aren’t exactly innocents,” Ayabe said.

“No, of course not. It’s just . . .”

“What exactly do you expect of me?” Ayabe asked.

Jack knew he had to play this exactly right. He was only going to get the one chance to make his argument.

“I don’t expect anything,” he said. “But I’m hoping for a favour.”

“You want me to stop them.”

There was the hint of amusement in Ayabe’s voice, but it didn’t show in his eyes.

Jack shook his head. “I’d like you to convince them that we can work this out another way.”

“And what would that be?”

“The guilty will have to pay for what they’ve done.”

Ayabe fell silent. He finished his cigarette, his gaze on the distance of the lake’s far shore. Jack didn’t push for an answer. He simply followed the cerva’s lead and finished his own smoke.

“And you can make this happen?” Ayabe asked finally.

Crap, Jack thought. He should have known it would come down to this.

“I can’t promise that it will,” he finally said, “but you’ve got my word that I’ll do whatever it takes to see this through.”

“Even if it means your life?”

Jack hesitated a moment, then nodded.

“These aganesha mean that much to you?” Ayabe asked.

Jack shrugged. “Truth us, I couldn’t give a damn about most of them. But I know war isn’t the way to work this out.”

“Sometimes the board needs to be cleared.”

“Except this isn’t a game,” Jack said.

“Which means you might lose.”

Jack shook his head. “It’s not about me. In the long run, everybody’s going to lose. I don’t want to see that. And I’m hoping that even you, living here in the back of nowhere, might feel the same way.”

Ayabe fell silent and the minutes ticked by.

“Do you really have a brother?” he finally asked.

“Ask around,” Jack told him. “He gets some kind of kick out of pretending to be me. I think it’s because I was the runt of the litter, but in the end, I turned out stronger and smarter than he could ever hope to be.”

“And more humble, as well.”

Jack shrugged. “I know my limitations. But I know my strong points, too. I’m just stating the facts. I’ve never met you before. I don’t owe you anything. But if collecting what my deadbeat brother owes you is what it’ll take for us to close this deal, you’ve got it.”

“No, that’s all right,” Ayabe said. “I can collect my own debts.”

“So, will you help me?”

“I can try. But I don’t hold the sway over the cerva clans the way you might think I do, and Minisino’s never been one to take advice.”

“All I can ask is that you try. I’ve got a friend getting the word to Raven. Maybe the two of you together can convince him to let us find a better solution to the problem.”

“Raven, you say?”

“Is that a problem?”

Ayabe slowly shook his head. “No. I’m just . . . surprised to hear that he’ll be involved.”

“Don’t know that he is—not yet. But we’re working on it.”

Ayabe pushed himself away from the tree he was leaning against and straightened up.

“Well, if nothing else,” he said, “this should at least prove interesting.”

It’s not about whether or not it’s interesting, Jack thought. It’s about saving lives.

But he kept it to himself. At least Ayabe was on board. With any luck, maybe they could actually defuse this whole situation before it exploded and took all of them down.

Far from Home

Lizzie

That couldn’t have been Geordie
, Lizzie thought, staring harder at the second-floor window of the battered old farmhouse where she thought she’d seen his face. How could it have been? Except, what was so implausible about Geordie suddenly appearing here? Hadn’t she already been shown that anything could happen in this place?
Anything.

Real, not real. How were you supposed to know anymore?

She might have actually seen Geordie, or it might have been just another piece of this freak show she was stuck in—trapped in this stupid dream world inside Jilly’s head.

If you were looking for unbelievable, how was
that
for unbelievable? Not to mention totally unfair.

How had she ended up here anyway? Better yet,
why
had she ended up here? She’d never wanted very much out of life: the chance to play her fiddle, the companionship of travelling with her friends, trying to be a good person, maybe someday finding that special someone. But she’d have settled for just getting along without any particularly dramatic crises.

Instead, the only thing she’d managed to do with her life was getting lost in this horrrible world, all her twenty-seven years scrunched back into a child’s body. Worse, she had only an expanse of smooth skin where her mouth should be. Under the skin, a solid piece of bone. No teeth, no muscles, no jaw. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t eat or drink.

Ignoring Mattie, she moved a little closer to the house, trying to get a better view of what was inside. Maybe she could find Jilly and figure out a way to tell her they could escape. Then Del appeared in the doorway with a grin on his face that made her wish she’d just stayed in the field with the goopy mess in the grass that was all that was left of the priest.

“Isn’t this sweet?” Del said, his gaze moving between them. “Two of my best girls, wanting to know if I can come out to play.”

Beside Lizzie, Mattie giggled. Lizzie turned to look at her. She wanted to punch the little twit in the face, break her nose and make it bleed. She even got so far as clenching her fists when she realized what she was thinking.

God, when had she become so violent? Was that going to be her new answer for anything she didn’t like or couldn’t make go away? Kill it, or at least try to hurt it? And it wasn’t even Mattie she was mad at. It was her own helplessness, and Del, who’d made her weak.

“Our little nameless girl looks mad, doesn’t she, Emily?”

Lizzie turned back to face him. Her hands fell limply open at her sides.

Don’t, she wanted to say and felt more disgusted with herself than ever for being so helpless that she’d be willing to beg like this. Don’t hurt me. Whatever it is you’re going to do to me, please don’t make it worse.

She had no voice. She had no
mouth.
She couldn’t speak. But Del could read the fear in her eyes.

“You’d better be scared,” he told her. “Emily knows why.”

He doesn’t know Mattie’s real name, Lizzie thought. She had no idea what that meant, if it meant anything, but she filed it away all the same. Know your enemy, Johnny had been fond of telling her when they’d worked out at the gym. He’d meant the way the enemy moved, how he might be telegraphing his moves, but Lizzie figured that anything she could add to the little she knew could only help.

“Everything belongs to Del,” Mattie said. “And everybody is here to do what he says.”

“Think you’ve learned that lesson yet, little nameless girl?”

Lizzie gave a quick nod. Was he going to give her back her mouth?

She tried not to let the hope rise, but it was impossible to stop it. She knew better. She really did. But she couldn’t stop it.

Del grinned at her and shook his head, and all her hopes went crashing down again, just as she’d known they would.

“No, I don’t think you really believe,” he told her. “You still think there’s some way you can get out of this.”

“She’s so stupid,” Mattie said.

“That’s right, Emily. She’s just not as smart as you.” He cocked his head and studied Lizzie for a long moment, before adding, “But maybe she can learn. What do you say, little nameless girl? Do you want to learn how to be smart?”

Lizzie nodded. She didn’t really. She knew that whatever he was talking about was only going to be worse than things already were. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“Then you better come inside,” Del said. “Both of you. Emily can show you how to make me happy. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, little nameless girl? You want to know how to make me happy, don’t you?”

Lizzie was spared the need to answer. There was no question but that she was going to agree, only she never got the chance. Before she could nod, before either she or Mattie could take a step toward the house, a dog burst out of the long weeds behind them and came to stand between the girls and Del. It was a broad-shouldered pit bull, its short fur the colour of honey.

Lizzie felt no hope at its appearance. It wouldn’t be able to protect her. Del would see to that.

“The hell?” Jilly’s brother said. “I don’t know where you came from, but you’re sure not squatting your ugly ass anywhere around here.”

He made a wave with his hand in the direction of the dog. Lizzie tensed, waiting for the dog to disappear, or turn into black goo, or maybe just explode. But nothing happened.

The dog growled, low in its chest, and took a step forward.

Del waved his hand again. Dirt spat up around the dog as though the ground had sustained a powerful blow, but the dog was untouched. Unmoved. It growled again, lower, angrier, and then something wonderful happened. Lizzie saw fear in Del’s eyes.

She had no idea why he couldn’t deal with the dog the way he had Timony and the priest. She was just so relieved to see that he
wasn’t
all-powerful.

Was Jilly finally waking up to the fact that Del could only have power over them if she believed that he did? Maybe there was hope after all.

The dog suddenly charged Del, leaping high. Del vanished before the jaws could close on his throat. The dog’s trajectory carried it toward the open door of the house, but the door slammed shut before the dog could reach it. The dog banged into the wooden slats and fell to the porch, off-balance. It was on its feet almost immediately, turning this way and that, searching for Del.