Tim Powers - Dinner At Deviant's Palace

Nigel was close enough now, and looking annoyed rather than suspicious at this jabbering.

«— sevatividam —»

As Rivas had hoped, the captive girls instantly began shrieking when they heard those five syllables and Nigel, startled by the sudden din, spun toward the wagon.

Rivas sprang up out of his crouch, whipping the length of metal from his sleeve in one motion and whirling it around and back, over his head; when his right foot hit the pavement he was moving at running speed, and though Nigel looked back in real alarm when he heard it, Rivas was already upon him, and with all the strength of his arm and momentum of his rush Rivas lashed the heavy bolt directly into the bridge of Nigel's nose. Even as Nigel's head snapped back and his body folded backward, Rivas let go of the aluminum strip and let himself fall with the body, and as they hit the floor together he snatched Nigel's hat and when he rolled to his feet on the far side of the body he was fitting the slingshot into his hand and over his wrist and aiming it at Lollypop, who'd drawn a knife and taken a couple of steps forward.

The old man skidded to a stop when he saw Rivas draw the pebble back against the increasing resistance nearly to his ear.

«Drop the knife,» Rivas panted.

The knife clattered on the floor. «What have you done to Nigel?» the old man moaned.

«Maybe I overthumped him,» said Rivas, beginning to catch his breath. «Open the cabin.»

«You're a Jaybird,» said Lollypop.

«No. Open the cabin.»

The old man didn't move. «That was that speaking in tongues gibberish.»

«Right. I can kill you and open it myself.»

The old man started toward the wagon. «You're a redeemer, then.»

«One of the out for hire ones,» Rivas agreed. He turned slowly to keep the slingshot aimed at the man, but took a couple of steps back and let the rubberized netting go slack for a moment while he crouched and snatched up the knife. He had the knife wedged into his wrist sheath and the pebble drawn back again before the old man could do more than look around.

As Lollypop turned back toward the wagon Rivas glanced down at Nigel. One eye was wide open and staring up into a darkening comer of the ceiling, the other was nearly closed, and between them was a deep indentation. Rivas's outstretched arm began to shake, and he wished he was anywhere else on earth.

Lollypop had climbed up over the wagon's stern and unbolted the cabin door, and Rivas hurried forward as it swung open. Three girls were standing inside, blinking in the orange firelight; they were smiling uncertainly, evidently still supposing that Rivas's imitation of a far-gone receiving the sacrament had been genuine.

He peered closely. None of them was Uri.

«Step down, girls,» he said with weary gentleness. «You're free.»

Their smiles disappeared, but they climbed down and wandered aimlessly toward the fire.

«Climb in there,» Rivas told Lollypop, «and, carefully, bring the fourth girl forward.»

The old man disappeared inside the cabin. After a moment he called out, fearfully, «She's dead.»

«Bring her forward.»

«You'll kill me.»

Maybe I will, thought Rivas helplessly. But, «Don't be silly,» he said. «This is just a job to me.»

There was scuffling and thumping in the darkness, and then he saw a long, dark-haired body rolled to the cabin's threshold.

«Let me see her face.»

Lollypop lifted the head and turned it toward Rivas. It wasn't Uri.

Rivas wasn't aware of how tense he'd been until his shoulders relaxed. «Not the one I'm after,» he told Lollypop. «Get inside and shut the door.»

There were tears on the old man's face. «You can't lock me in here! This cabin's built tough, I'd starve to death, just shoot me right now—»

«I'm not going to lock it, relax. I'm just going to pile some stuff in front of the door so I'll hear it if you come out. The dead girl you can leave in there with you or roll out onto the deck.»

Lollypop rolled her back inside. «I can't be alone,» he muttered as he pulled the door closed.

Rivas let the slingshot go slack and tucked it into his shirt, then ran back into the dark garage, picked up the old bed frame and carried it back to the boat-wagon. He threw it onto the deck, climbed up himself, and leaned it up against the closed cabin door. «There,» he called. «If I'm still around when this falls, I'll hear it and come back and kill you, okay?»

The old man was mumbling inside, possibly to the dead girl, but there was no specific reply.

Rivas let the slingshot go slack and tucked it into his belt, walked around to the driver's bench and grabbed the bottle of Currency, then hopped down to the floor. During the day's ride, he had noticed that the harness of the horses was an unusual style, with some sort of hinge and pin arrangement as well as buckles on the harness straps, and a light English saddle on each horse; now he put the bottle down, carefully, and walked up to the front right horse to get a closer look at the harness.

Each of the pins, he saw, had a ring on the top end; he yanked one out of its hinge and the harness strap fell away. He smiled almost sadly. Ready for anything, you boys were, he thought; Jaybird shepherds, punch-bees, the necessity of having to take to the water . . . even, I see, for having to abandon your vehicle altogether and proceed on horseback without unbuckling anything. I'll bet old Lollypop is going to be a little more careful about picking up hitchhikers, though. Rivas yanked out another pin and tried to remember what length he liked stirrup leathers to be.

«Where's the jaybush?» came a voice from right behind him, making him jump and gasp.

He turned to the girl. She was tall, with pale hair; she was silhouetted against the comparative brightness outside, and so he couldn't see her expression, but, knowing Jaybirds, he didn't figure there would be much to see anyway. «Sorry, miss,» he said. «There isn't one anywhere near.» He looked past her. «Where'd the other two go?»

She shrugged.

«Good luck to them.» He went back for the bottle and tucked it into his shirt and then pulled the last pin, freeing the horse from the wagon. «And good luck to you,» he added, wondering if she'd know how to give him a leg up.

«Where are you going?»

He looked back at her in exasperation. Why couldn't she have wandered away with her friends? «South.»

«South?» she said with sudden eagerness. «To the Regroup Tent?»

«No, dammit, I—» He paused. Why not? What better cover could he hope for than the role of a Jaybird who'd become separated from his band and was waiting to be caught up with or reassigned? Especially if he was accompanied by an obviously genuine stray Jaybird girl. «I mean yes,» he said.

«Can we start tonight?» she asked. «I feel terrible being away from everyone.»

«Yes,» said Rivas, leading his horse around so that he could reach the harness pins on the left front one. «I'd like to get away from this place as soon as possible.»

The girl glanced around blankly, apparently giving Nigel's corpse no more attention than she gave the neglected pieces of pork. Obviously home was wherever the Jaybirds were, and every other place was simply a place where they weren't, only to be passed through and not worth a second look. Rivas had read somewhere that toads could perceive only two categories: a fly, and everything that was not a fly. This girl seemed to have the same sort of two-position attention switch.

«Since it's not where everyone is,» he amended wearily. She smiled and nodded, and he went on, «Sure, there's still enough light for us to cut a couple of miles out from between us and the Regroup Tent.» He handed her the reins to the second horse. «Can you ride?»