She says, “Hi.”
“Hello, Rose.”
Rose giggles. She doesn’t seem to be the giggly type, but she does it a lot. She blushes a lot as well, and she doesn’t seem the blushing type either. It’s a bit baffling.
Rose looks at Gabriel. “You have to go to Geneva, see Pilot, assess how many Hunters there are, and report back to Mercury tonight.” That’s more the type Rose is.
She then plucks at some grass and says, “Nathan, Mercury says that she would be delighted to give you three gifts on your birthday.”
At last.
“She says it would be an honor.”
An honor!
“Will she expect some kind of payment in return? Or is the honor enough?”
“Not a payment,” Rose replies. “A favor. A mark of thanks and respect. It’s only natural to thank the giver. It’s polite.”
“And what favor does she want from me?”
Rose grins and blushes. “She wants two favors from you.”
So the honor definitely isn’t enough.
“What two favors does Mercury want?”
“She will tell you this evening.”
“Will she want the favors first? Or after the Giving?”
“She said one should be given before the ceremony.”
So one must be relatively easy, but I don’t know what it could be. I don’t have anything I can give her.
“The other is to be given afterward, as soon as you can provide it.”
“And what if I don’t ever provide it?”
Rose giggles but draws a finger across her throat.
Gabriel goes back to Geneva through the cut, and I go for a long hike to keep myself occupied. When we meet up again at the cottage in the evening, I have got myself psyched up. This is Mercury I’m going to meet. I have to be a Black Witch. I have to be the son of Marcus.
Mercury greets me formally with three kisses, but she gives them so slowly it’s as if she is inhaling me rather than kissing me. Her lips don’t touch me, but I can feel the chill off them. She says, “You always smell so good, Nathan.” Then she ignores me and asks Gabriel what he has seen in Geneva.
The Hunters seem to be using Geneva as a base, and Pilot says they are scouting the area, looking for clues, looking for the son of Marcus. Mercury seems satisfied that the cottage is far enough from them and the apartment is still safe.
After we eat she says, “You see my eyes differently, Nathan?”
“I’ve never seen eyes like yours before.” Looking into her eyes is like looking into hollowed-out sockets, completely black but with distant lightning flashing occasionally.
“You haven’t met many Blacks?”
“No.” I turn to Rose. “I’ve met White Witches, though.”
“Yes, Rose is a rare White Witch. Unusually talented and very able.”
Rose blushes on cue.
Mercury continues. “By birth Rose is a White Witch, but she is like a daughter to me now. She is at heart a true Black Witch. You, though, Nathan, are physically very much a Black Witch but I wonder about your heart. Is it that of a true Black Witch?”
“How can I judge? As I said, I haven’t met any Black Witches before.”
Mercury shudders and makes one wild laugh that sounds like an echo in a cavern. “We are a good mix here tonight.”
I lean back in my chair and look at Mercury. She is horrifically thin. But not weak, nothing about her is weak. Even her gray, almost transparent skin looks like it is bulletproof. She is thin like an iron bar, and brittle, and maybe flaking here and there, but as cold and heartless as an iron bar too. Her hair is a mass of wiry gray, black, and white in a swirling pan-scrubber pile of knots and plaits, all held up by long hairpins, which she occasionally pulls out to spin on her fingers.
She wears a long gray dress made of silk or rags, it seems, but parts of it float out when she moves or for no reason at all, as if she is underwater and they are drifting in the current.
I’d love to find out what she knows of my father, but tonight I stick to my Giving. I get it started by offering up, “Thank you for your kindness, Mercury. For looking after me, providing me with a place to stay,” as polite as polite can be.
She inclines her head a little in acceptance. Her dress dances around a little more.
“And thank you for your offer to give me three gifts.”
Again she inclines her head but as she raises it she says, “It’s your birthday soon.”
“Eight days.”
She nods.
I press on with my speech. “I would like to present you with a token, to show my gratitude. Perhaps two tokens, one before the Giving and one after?”
“That is appropriate. Yes. A small token before.”
“It would be a pleasure. Is there anything . . . ?”
Silence.
She loves playing these games.
A bit more silence before she says, “Some information.”
I wait a bit. Give her some silence back. Then finally: “Any particular information?”
“Of course.”
Mercury has her elbows on the table, her fingers rub together, and a long hairpin appears, twirling between them.
“Leave us. You two get out.” She doesn’t look at Gabriel and Rose as she gives her orders but keeps her hollowed-out stare on me. After they have gone outside the wind begins to rattle the door and the windows.
Mercury twirls her hairpin on the tip of her finger.
“The first favor is simple . . . a mere trifle. I’d like you to tell me all you know about those tattoos of yours.”
“And the other favor?”
“Slightly more difficult . . . but perhaps not for you.”
She stabs the hairpin into the table and moves it backward and forward until it comes free again.
“I can’t agree unless I know what the favor is.”
“There aren’t many other options open to you, Nathan.”
Mercury stabs the table again.
I fold my arms and wait.
Her mouth muscles tighten further, and then I struggle not to jump back as she lets out a wild cry, her laugh. The wind howls and Mercury leans across the table to me. Her hands raise and the pin reappears, spinning in her fingers. She speaks, and her breath is ice on my face.
“Why do you want him dead?”
I’m curious rather than angry.
Mercury leans back in her chair and looks at me, I think, though her eyes are just black chasms in her skull. “He has taken a life from me. The life of someone precious. And I intend to take a life from him. And as the only life he holds precious is his own, that is the one I will take.”
“Whose life did he take?”
“My sister. My twin sister, Mercy. He killed her, viciously. He ate her heart.”
Mercy wasn’t on the list of people my father has killed.
“I’m sorry about your sister, but killing Marcus won’t bring Mercy back. And Marcus is my father.”
“Is that a no?”
“I get the feeling that if I say yes but then fail to fulfill my obligation there will be consequences.”
“Of course. For you, your family, your friends. I detest those who break a deal. They must pay the highest price.”
“Then I think your price may be too high.”
She reaches over me with a finger and strokes the tattoo on my hand. “Your father is no hero, Nathan. He is vain and cruel and . . . if you were ever to meet him you would realize that he cares nothing for you.”
I slide my hand away and get up. I move to stand by the fireplace. “Perhaps there is something else you might accept instead.”
She surveys me. “Perhaps.” She gets up and comes to me and strokes her finger over the tattoo on my neck. “Yes, perhaps there is something else. Your services for a year.”