“I won’t lie,” Sandra was saying. “I anticipated something along these lines. For years, I thought you’d suddenly show up, after finding the right kind of power, or the right contact, and you’d react. Take action. Fix what was broken. I didn’t anticipate it in the here or now. Your timing sucks.”
“If the timing was more convenient, I wouldn’t be doing this,” he said. “I’m capable, I have resources, but I’m not about to tackle your family when you’re having a good day.”
“Yeah,” she said.
I saw the plume of breath as she sighed. “Damn it. How are we doing this? Are you going to sic all of your followers on me?”
“That would be rude,” he said. “Not very fair.
She didn’t respond.
“Can’t help but notice that Hildr isn’t here.”
“Standing watch over the men that he was attacking.”
“You’re going to tell Hildr to attack, aren’t you?” he asked. “First chance you get?”
“Yes.”
The Drunk winced. I was looking at his back, but I could tell. He spoke, “We’ll let you walk away without taking you hostage if you promise to call her off. Keep her out of this.”
Sandra looked at the five or so Satyrs, the four Bacchae and the three remaining Maenads, at me, Green Eyes, Evan, and then back at the Drunk.
“You get a one-minute head start,” Sandra said.
“Ten minutes.”
“Three.”
“Starting from the time you meet with the other Duchamps,” he said.
“From the time you let me go. I’m not joking around, Jeremy. The stakes are high, here.”
“No,” he agreed. “Not joking around. I let you barter me down to three minutes of head start, let me decide when the timer starts.”
“Fine.”
She didn’t move.
The frantic screaming continued in the background. The Other I’d loosed was still active, recently freed by Evan.
“Remember how we put it back then?” she asked. “No asking for forgiveness.”
“I think,” he said, “We meant there was no need. ‘We do what we must’, remember?”
“Because that worked so well for us, you think?” Sandra asked. Another small sigh. “I’m being a bitch. It got us halfway, at least.”
“Yes,” he said. “Goodbye, Sandra.”
The word held a kind of weight to it. Finality.
“Then you realize this is goodbye,” she said.
He only offered a curt nod.
She turned to leave.
I could see the tension in the Drunk’s minions. The stares that were directed his way.
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“Oh, God, that’s good,” Evan said. “Means it’s not just me.”
“The context doesn’t matter too much,” the Drunk said. “What matters is that we have limited time before Hildr comes barreling our way. All of my followers together could stop her, I’m almost certain, but Sandra knows that.”
“It won’t be alone,” I said.
“No, she won’t,” he said. “Your bird can’t possibly keep her from tracking all of us. We’ll need to move. Now. She’s faster than she looks, I’m sure you know.”
“We’ll split up, then,” I said. “I’m not done here.”
“What do you have left to do? You wanted to weaken the Duchamps.”
“I have three more targets here. A fourth elsewhere.”
“Names given to you by Duchamps, if I heard right? Your announcement, after killing Crooked Hat and Gudbrand?”
I nodded.
“Who are you after?”
“Mason Hall-McCullough, the Ritchie brothers.”
“Ah,” he said. “If I’d known you were after the old man, I might have decided differently.”
“Why?”
“There are some individuals you don’t want to cross,” he said. “You can deal with him on your own. The Ritchie Brothers… if it’s them you’ve got me on board.”
“Just like that?”
“Are you complaining?”
“No. But I don’t trust events when they work in my favor.”
“My god is, in some respects, a god of fertility, madness, and beasts, among many other things. In some respects, in a narrow, particular fashion, Those two could be said to fall within my god’s domain. I still despise everything they stand for, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”
I don’t mind a vote of confidence on the ‘they deserve killing’ front, I thought. On the other hand, I didn’t like ‘that’s all I’ll say‘, either.
“Can you give any tips on their appearance? I’ll need to find them in the crowd.”
“Red-blond hair, red-blond beards. Green jacket, for the one, black jacket for the other. One of them has a book.”
I nodded. “And Mason? You’re okay with going after the brothers, but are you saying Mason doesn’t deserve to die?”
“He might. He might not. I don’t know him well. If he did do something worth being killed for, I doubt anyone would be in a position to find out.”
“That was my understanding,” I said. “I was thinking he could be a trap. A name given to throw me off, a situation where I’d almost definitely lose.”
“As opposed to a genuine target?” the Drunk asked.
“A genuine target, yeah. Maybe one of the Duchamps named him because they know something none of the rest of us do.”
“And maybe,” the Drunk said, “He’s both a genuine target and a fight you’re bound to lose.”
I frowned.
The Drunk gave a signal. His Satyrs and Maenads began to move out, away from the main group. His own feet crunched in snow as he headed to the side of the backyard, toward the neighbor’s yard.
When I didn’t join the general retreat, he paused.
“What are you thinking?” the Drunk asked. “You’ve faced down the troll once. If you stay here, you’ll endure a round two.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“But you’re not running. I know you’re quick, elusive, but…”
“I’m thinking,” I said, “That this may be my last chance to get to the Ritchie brothers and Mason the Benevolent.”
The Drunk stared at me. His stubble was almost at the point of being a beard, and his eyes looked damn tired.
“You don’t have to follow,” I said. I offered a hand to Green Eyes. She climbed up onto my back. “But I can’t let them go.”
“Word is you were human, not long ago. Did you forget that mortals like me get tired, after hours of tension and stumbling around in the cold and darkness?”
“No,” I said. “I’m counting on the fact that mortals like them get tired.”
I headed up to the porch the Maenad had jumped off, then hopped up to the roof, landing knee-deep in snow. A small avalanche of snow occurred beneath my feet, but I maintained my position. I scaled the roof.
I saw Sandra rejoining the group.
Snow crunched around me.