Maybe a little something for you.
<Animal, vegetable, or mineral?>
Former animal, now deceased.
<Is it succulent and juicy?>
You will have to judge for yourself.
<Well, what are we waiting for? All rise for the Right Honorable Judge Oberon—>
I need to have you drink some tea first.
<Aww! That smelly stuff?>
Maybe smellier than usual.
<You are a terrible salesman, you know that?>
I snorted and then remembered I wasn’t alone in the room. I looked back at Granuaile and Dr. Flores. “May I have a few minutes with him, please?” I asked.
“Don’t move him,” the veterinarian said. Her eyes dropped down to the bag and added, “And no food.”
<Okay, that was a buzzkill right there.>
“Right,” I said, smiling in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. Granuaile smirked as she exited, knowing full well that I planned to ignore those instructions. Once they were gone, I searched for and found a bowl to pour the tea in.
I need you to drink this, Oberon, I said as I filled the bowl. All of it. It’s important. You’ll get better quicker. How do you feel?
<Everything hurts, but I am glad you are here now.> He began to lap up the liquid. <This tastes like depressed teenage flowers that want to rebel against their parents by smelling like feet dipped in stinky cheese.>
I’m sorry, Oberon, but you have to drink it all.
<I know, I’m just saying that most dumps are fresher than this.>
I have andouille sausage in the bag for you when you’re finished.
Oberon began to lap up the tea with more gusto.
<I think I’m feeling better already!>
Good. I’m so sorry you got hurt, Oberon. That’s not what I wanted.
<There is always a price to pay for badassery, Atticus. But the benefits outweigh the drawbacks. I didn’t want you to die.>
That started a tear rolling down my cheek. And I didn’t, because of you. You saved my life. Thank you.
<You’re welcome. Hey! Does saving your life erase all my negative sausages?>
Oh, most definitely. You were at negative sixteen, I believe? Well, now I owe you sixteen sausages.
<Oh, that’s gravy! What kind?>
What kind do you want, buddy? You name it, I’ll go get it. Keep drinking.
<Okay. You remember that one time you took me to Scotland and you let me try those sweet wild boar sausages from that gourmet place? Can I have some of those?>
The ones you made up a song about?
<Yeah! That’s right, I did! I think I forgot it though. How did it go?>
Oh. I think it went like this:
<Oh, man, that was a classic! I have a gift for lyrics. That should have won a Grammy. It’s not as good as “Horseradish Tastes Like Death and Sorrow,” but I don’t think I’ll ever top that one.>
Oberon finished the tea and I put the bowl down on the floor. How do you feel now? I asked him.
<I feel like seeing what’s in the bag,> he replied.
I mean physically, Oberon.
<It still hurts, Atticus, but maybe not as bad.>
That sounds about right. I couldn’t give you much in the way of pain relief, because I don’t know what the vet is going to be doing. But you’re going to be healing now much faster than the vet will expect. Now that your bones are set, you’ll be better in a few days rather than a few weeks, and that pain is going to be all gone.
<Is that vampire all gone?>
Yes, he is. Thanks to you, I was able to unbind him and then the ghouls ate what was left. But, look, Leif is no longer our friend. He set that vampire on me and put both you and Granuaile in danger.
<Leif did that?>
Yep. He betrayed us and went to the dark side. So if you smell him or any other vampire coming, you let me know, okay?
<Okay.>
I picked up the bag and pulled out an andouille sausage for him, and he whined softly.
<There was seriously only one in there?>
You have to take it easy right now, I explained as I fed it to him. The doctor probably has you pumped full of pharmaceuticals and you really shouldn’t have anything.
<So this means you’re spoiling me, right?>
Can’t help it. You’re the best hound ever.
Oberon’s tail thumped a few times and his mouth partially opened, seeming to smile at me.
Chapter 22
I didn’t want to leave Oberon, but there was nothing more I could do for him for a few days; he simply needed time to heal. In the interim, there was plenty for me to do in Kayenta, and I’d promised I’d be back today. The last thing I needed was to give Coyote an excuse to mess with me because I wasn’t holding up my end of the deal.
Before we got out of range of the cell phone towers in Flagstaff, I put in a call to Magnusson and Hauk as we drove north on Highway 89. Hal didn’t want to believe that Leif had set Zdenik on me. His growly voice crackled on the phone, but his skepticism came through clearly.
“That doesn’t sound consistent with his character,” he said.
“He doesn’t have the same character anymore, Hal. Not since he came back from Asgard. Or maybe he’s been playing us all for fools the whole time. That’s possible too.”
“So now he thinks he can retake the state for his own again?”
“That’s what he told Granuaile. But he charmed her first to make sure she’d tell me.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Believe it. Has he been in to the offices?”
“No, he’s been away on leave since he left for Asgard.”
“Well, I tenderly suggest you turn that into permanent leave, and when it comes to my records, he’s no longer my attorney, okay? I don’t want him to have access to my files at all, and I’m telling you right now that if I see him again he’s going to die for real. You can tell him I said so. I’m sorry I ever put him back together in the first place!”
“You know, I have excellent hearing, Atticus.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you, Hal. I’m just angry.”
“You’re not hunting him now, are you?”
“No, I have other pressing business, but Leif needs to stay out of my way forever.”
“All right, send me a signed letter firing him to make it legal in case he makes a fuss, but I’ll close your files now. Thanks for letting me know; I’ll alert the Pack to watch out for him.”
Granuaile drove in silence for a few minutes after I hung up, letting me have a good sulk as I stared out the passenger side window, but eventually she spoke up.
“I’ve never seen you like this, so you’re going to have to coach me a bit,” she said. “Do you want me to let you brood in silence, or would it help for you to talk about it?”
“Huh. You know, I haven’t had anyone to talk to in so long, it didn’t occur to me. Sorry.”
“It’s kind of scary to think of what you consider to be a long time. How long are we talking about?”