“And my friends and family?” she asked.
My, she’d said, not our.
Not wrong, but misleading.
“Callan died,” I said.
“Shit. I almost liked Callan.”
“Roxanne’s in bad shape, Kathy’s arm might not ever recover, and Peter’s… he’s okay, but he’s figured far too much out.”
“Whose head is that on?”
“It was chaotic enough I can’t quite remember. Local bogeymen, I think. Partially on my head.”
Rose nodded.
Is she asking me this because she wants to know what’s up after she kills me? I wondered.
“I’m glad most of our people came out of it okay,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Did you happen to kill anyone noteworthy before you came after Will, there?”
“No, nobody noteworthy, as far as I know,” I answered. “But I wasn’t idle, either.”
“Well,” she said. She sounded so calm. How much was she using Conquest, here? “Alister and I just had a long conversation about you.”
“I… see,” I said.
“Would you believe I was actually arguing to keep you alive?” she asked.
No, I thought, automatically, quietly furious. My survival was my call, not hers, and I didn’t believe her in the first place. It was unfair, maybe, and maybe it was fueled by the natural opposition to Rose, but when I heard something phrased as a question, my natural reaction was to assume it was a falsehood or misdirection.
Rose went on, “Alister kind of has a grudge, after you tried to kill him-”
“Maim,” I said.
“Well then,” Alister said. “That’s something.”
“-Maim him, then,” Rose said. “I, on the other hand-”
“Don’t have a grudge?” I cut in.
Immature, maybe, but I wasn’t sure I trusted the Abyss any more than I trusted Rose. I could give her a chance to clear the air.
“-I, on the other hand,” she repeated herself, “feel like we’re too short on allies. Johannes has a lot of Others on his side, and the Duchamps have a lot of practitioners.”
She hadn’t confirmed or denied my point.
“Yeah, the Duchamps have a lot of practitioners. Equates to an awful lot of homonculi, apparently,” I said.
“I believe you on that count,” Rose said. “Ty thought about making some a week or so ago. But my point is, I hope you can understand if I say I’m not about to turn down help.”
“Even if that help is me?” I asked. “With all the mystery and stuff you won’t tell me about who and what I am?”
“It’s complicated,” she said.
It’s complicated.
Sure. She wasn’t entirely wrong.
“How about I make it very simple?” I asked.
The bell tolled louder.
I saw Alister glance skyward for a moment. “Maybe you should steer clear of phrases like that? In the movies and on TV, they tend to precede the big action hero moments where the big guy pulls a dumb stunt. There’s no guarantee you’ll be as lucky as the hero.”
“Okay,” I said. “Rose, I know.”
Alister glanced at her. “Know?”
“You didn’t tell him?”
“We just discussed it,” Rose said.
“Right,” Alister said. “Now it clicks. Been a long night.”
I glanced at him. “You have no idea how sarcastic I want to be right now. I’m surprised you told him.”
Rose cleared her throat. “Before one of us gives away a vital detail in the dumbest way possible, can you clarify what you know?”
“I know where I came from, or I know about as much as you do, I think. Two parts of a whole.”
She nodded slowly. “You read the diaries?”
“Diaries?” I asked.
“Grandmother’s. Leaving the house all of a sudden, like I had to, knowing you had free reign, I figured that would be the way you’d find out, if you found out.”
I shook my head. “Didn’t have time to sit down and read. We’ve kind of been fighting for our lives. Or existences, in any event.”
Evan set down on the edge of a nearby roof, at my three o’clock. He cocked his head to one side.
I’d told him I’d be heading back his way, and that he should cover my retreat. No doubt he’d been wondering what was up.
I shook my head, fairly emphatically. For Evan, primarily. “It was bad. Witch hunters, Others…”
“But the point is that you know,” Rose said. “Somehow.”
“Yeah, the Abyss told me,” I said. To drive in a point, I added, “I’m being honest here. Up front.”
“I had reasons for keeping it a secret,” she said.
You turned my friends against me, I thought. The thought was angry, a growl.
“I know,” I said, in a very normal voice. “I don’t agree with the reasons, but hey… I’m pretty biased.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Rose agreed. “There’s a more obscure principle at work, here, called validity. By saying it, you make it so.”
“I’ve run into that one,” I said.
“A prophecy gets more traction with those who are supposed to carry it out if it’s known. If it has more people who carry a piece of it with them.”
“Much like the threads between us three,” Alister said.
Rose nodded. “This is… almost a prophecy. Fated, might be the right word.”
“I was fated to die,” I said. “I’m still here.”
“Fated to move on from this world,” Rose said. “You did. You came back. Bending the rules here.”
“We can’t bend this rule?” I asked. “Take the idea that one half is supposed to destroy the other and turn it on its head?”
“How?” Rose asked, with a little more force than was necessary, as if it was an accusation or a demand.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m still processing. You’ve had most of a day and a night to think on it. I’ve had less than an hour, probably. But if I had to suggest something… can’t we unite the two halves by forging something like the master-familiar bond?”
“You already have a familiar,” Rose said. “Limits options.”
“Had,” I said. “Which doesn’t necessarily limit anything.”
I noted that Evan was still on the rooftop, waiting. Watching.
Wanting me to ask for help, maybe?
“There’s something between you two, even if the connection is broken. Nevermind. If I had to put it bluntly, I don’t like you, Blake. I’ve seen you change in the remarkably short time I’ve known you, and I don’t think I like what I’d be attaching myself to. To top it all off, being master and familiar doesn’t mean we’d be getting along.”
“Just an idea,” I said.
“Not to mention,” she said, “That the big issue here, between you and me, is we aren’t static. With you in this… state, Blake, you’re nebulous. Evan went to me after you left us, but you reclaimed him, just like that. Dealing with the others, I can see my grip on them weakening. It’s going to get worse. More abstract concepts might start coming loose. Actually forming a master-familiar bond, that’s opening a conduit, letting things flow freely. There’s no damming that river when it starts flowing, one way or the other. It leads to a point where one of us destroys the other, to recoup maybe ninety percent of what we are, minus whatever was lost forever between the blades of the Barber’s shears.”