“Amen to that,” I said. “So does that mean you’re with us?”
“Not necessarily,” said Murk. “What’s in it for me personally?”
I glanced at A’marie. “‘Wise and honorable,’ huh?” I said.
“Neither wisdom nor honor preclude looking after your own best interests,” said Murk. “If you don’t understand that, you really are a fool, and perhaps I should eat you after all.”
“Whatever,” I said. “What’s your price?”
“The bay.”
“That’s what Timon already offered you.”
“Yes, Timon, whom I mistrust and despise.”
I turned back to A’marie. “What kind of a boss would he make?”
She hesitated. “Everyone respects him. That doesn’t mean they love him. Still, I think they could do worse.”
I looked at Murk. “No eating the rest of the fish people?”
He made another short, low-pitched sound. “Fish people… I wouldn’t eat anyone except to administer justice.”
That could mean anything. But something made me want to trust Murk. Maybe I had a soft spot for gigantic man-eating monsters with nothing even a little bit human about them. Or maybe it was just that I was short on options.
“To hell with it,” I said. “If the plan works, you get the bay.”
I was quiet on the swim back to shore, and not just because I was keeping an eye out for the hammerhead. Eventually A’marie asked, “What’s wrong?”
“When I made up my mind to do this, I wanted to help everybody.”
“You are. You will. Murk will be all right.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes. He wants the prestige of being a lord, but he’s too much of a loner to bother his subjects very much. You’re doing as well as anybody could.”
“Thanks.” I hesitated. “You know, I like it better working together.”
“So do I.” She smiled. “I definitely feel like I’m getting more accomplished. Because it’s hard to stop you from doing what you want to do.”
‘I’ve been lucky so far.” Saying it made me wonder when my luck was going to turn.
When the bay got shallow enough, I pulled my fins off, and we put our feet down. Then we had to cough and retch out the water in our lungs. The breeze that had felt pleasant before chilled my wet skin, and the on-top-of-Everest feeling came back. The magic from the pills hadn’t run out of juice, and so it was still harder to breathe the open air.
The tape on my ribs was peeling off, but that was okay. Now that I’d juiced with Red’s magic, it didn’t feel like I needed it anymore.
A’marie pulled off her goggles. I took off my goggles and fins, and we waded toward the little red convertible.
Something rose up behind it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I had a hard time making out the shape behind the car. It was like it was made of glass, and on top of that, my eyes just wanted to look someplace else. I had a hunch that an ordinary human, with no mojo inside him, wouldn’t be able to see it at all.
“Do you see that?” I wheezed, stretching out my arm.
A’marie looked where I was pointing. “Yes,” she said, sounding surprised. “I think it’s Sylvester.”
Now that she’d suggested it, I thought she might be right. The figure was big enough, and had a round-shouldered, slouching shape to it, like an orangutan.
“What’s he doing here?” I asked, just as the giant raised his arm and waved.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Did you tell anybody where we were going?”
“No.”
“Then I really don’t like this.”
Sylvester beckoned for us to come on.
A’marie frowned. “I know what you mean. But I’ve always gotten along with Sylvester. I don’t know of anybody who doesn’t. He’s… gentle.”
He hadn’t looked all that gentle fighting for beads in dreamland, but I guessed that hadn’t been his fault. Besides, all our stuff was in the Mazda.
“Okay,” I said. “But have the pipes ready. They’re our only weapon. And be ready to run back to the water.”
Panting like we had asthma, we waded up onto the sand. Water trickled down from A’marie’s soaked clothing.
As we got closer to Sylvester, I could see him more clearly. I had a hunch the charm he was using wasn’t actually supposed to hide him from other Old People. It wasn’t strong enough for that. It was only meant to keep humans from spotting him. He needed something like that to move around in broad daylight.
He was dressed in a denim shirt, jeans, and a white kerchief with a gold pattern in it knotted around his neck. He needed a cowboy hat to go with the rest of the outfit, but that, he didn’t have. His shaggy brown hair covered his face like a hood, although I could make out the gleam of eyes behind it, and the Bluetooth jammed in his ear.
He let us get within a few yards. Then he brought up the hand that had still been dangling behind the Miata. The one with the Remington Model 870 in it. The shotgun looked like a toy in his grip, and I noticed someone had cut away the trigger guard. Probably because his thick, crooked finger wouldn’t have fit through.
“Shit!” I said. “I knew it.”
“Move away from him, A’marie,” Sylvester said. His voice was deep-not kraken deep, but still-and even in a tense situation, the words came out slow and almost sleepy. “I got no reason to hurt you.”
“You don’t have a reason to hurt me, either,” I said. “I’m on your side. I’m going to help you.”
“It’s true,” said A’marie. She hadn’t shifted away from me. I gave her a little nudge, but she still stayed put. Maybe because she was afraid Sylvester would fire as soon as she moved.
“No, it isn’t,” Sylvester said. “He came into my dreams along with Timon. From now on, there’ll be two of them torturing us in our sleep.”
“I can see how it looked that way,” I panted, “but you’ve got it wrong.”
“I’m not letting it get any worse,” Sylvester said. “Not when I can shoot and get rid of you and him both. Move away, A’marie. One day you’ll thank me.”
“You don’t want to do this,” said A’marie.
“I don’t want to, but I’m gonna.” Sylvester’s voice was a note or two higher. He was getting upset, which I was pretty sure made it unanimous. “And if you want to stand with an outsider, then you brought it on yourself. One.”
“All right!” A’marie scrambled away from me. “Do what you want to him! Just don’t hurt me!”
Her sudden one-eighty must have startled Sylvester as much as it did me. Because he didn’t shoot, not that instant. His head twisted back and forth, trying to keep track of both of us.
A’marie ripped open her shirt, popping off the little pearl buttons. She pulled out the pipes and raised them to her lips. Water dribbled out the ends as she started to blow.
I sensed right away that it wasn’t going to work, because the notes didn’t sound like before. They were shaky and thin. She didn’t have the wind she needed.
And sure enough, the magic didn’t grab hold of Sylvester. After another instant of confusion, his eyes locked on me.
I dropped, the Remington boomed, and the blast flew high over my head. Sylvester wasn’t much of a shot. Unfortunately, with everything else he had going for him, he might not have to be.
The 870 went shuck-shuck as Sylvester worked the pump. I wondered if I could make it back to the water with him blasting away at my back. I glanced back the way A’marie and I had come, then swore.
Because Sylvester had a partner blocking the way. For an instant, he was transparent and hard to make out, too. Then he snapped into focus, and I saw the big black snake from the dream parade, and the hole in the sand where he’d buried himself and waited for A’marie and me to pass on by. He had a headset and a white and gold scarf, too, but the really impressive accessory was the contraption strapped on lower down. It was made of jointed wood like a marionette, and it gave him a pair of artificial arms. Each three-fingered hand had a pistol in it.
By the time I looked back around, Sylvester was aiming at me again. I dropped the crap in my hands and scrambled in what I expected to be a futile try at dodging. Then A’marie threw her goggles and clipped Sylvester on the side of the head. It didn’t hurt him, but his hand jerked, and the next blast flew to my left.