Chapter 14
T
hey found Quid’s body just before dawn, dumped at the yawning maw of the Gate of Skulls, the official entrance to Golgotham, like some horrible sacrifice. No one saw who did it. Or at least no one was willing to admit to seeing.
As for the video posted on YouTube, it was promptly yanked once the site realized its content, but not before the link spread throughout the Internet like ink in a glass of water. Judging from the appalling comments left on the page before the video was taken down, there were a good number of viewers out there who either shared the SOA’s opinion of Kymerans or simply thought beating one to death was funny. I could only hope the latter posters thought it was faked, and not a real snuff film—but I was probably being optimistic.
Unfortunately, it was proving almost impossible to trace the video back to its original source. According to news reports, whoever this Cain bastard was, he was smart enough to use daisy-chained anonymizer proxies in order to upload his little manifesto. Captain Horn held a press conference and told the cameras that the PTU was meeting with the NYPD as well as the FBI to deal with what he called “the terrorist situation.” The FBI was providing facial and voice recognition software so law enforcement could try to identify the man called Cain and, hopefully, locate him before anyone else was hurt.
As we watched the head of the PTU field questions from reporters on Hexe’s ancient portable television, I found myself with a few queries of my own.
“I wonder why the other two don’t show their faces?”
“They’re probably afraid of getting busted for first-degree murder,” Hexe replied.
“And this Cain guy isn’t?”
“He’s the leader,” he said with a shrug. “He’s a narcissist, just like every other crackpot leader in the history of the world. He wants people to pay attention to
him
. What’s the good of being the boss, and getting all this press, if nobody knows what you look like?”
“You’ve got a point,” I conceded. I checked the clock over the stove and cursed under my breath. “I better get going, or I’m going to be late.”
“Do you really have to go?” Hexe frowned. “Can’t you reschedule for another time?”
“I wish I could,” I explained. “But this bridal salon is by appointment only, and if Vanessa cancels, it might be weeks, even months, before they can fit her in again.”
“Very well.” Hexe reached inside the pocket of his coat and fished out an amulet on a long gold chain. I recognized it as a gladeye charm like the one he’d given Madelyn, save that this one was shaped like a pyramid. “Take this with you,” he said, placing the amulet around my neck. “It’s to protect you when I’m not around. It will turn aside even the strongest curses and keep you safe from harm—at least of the supernatural variety.”
“That’s very sweet of you, darling,” I said, tilting the amulet between my thumb and forefinger, so I could look into the artificial eye embedded in its center.
“You have to wear it against your skin, if it’s to work,” he reminded me.
“Do you really think I’ll need it?” I asked.
“Better safe than sorry,” he replied as he lifted the gladeye by its chain and dropped it down my cleavage. “These are strange times, even for Golgotham.”
I wanted to tell Hexe that he was being overprotective, but from the moment I left the house I was happy to have the gladeye on my person. The mood on the street was positively leprous. As I headed toward City Hall Station, more than one Golgothamite spat on the sidewalk as I passed by. For the first time since relocating to Golgotham, I was genuinely relieved to see the traffic snarling Broadway, which was the demarcation line between it and the rest of Manhattan.
Suddenly a leprechaun dressed in a green track suit stepped into the middle of the sidewalk, blocking my path. “Here ye go, lassie,” he said, shoving a xeroxed flyer into my hand. “Big rally tonight. Spread the news and bring some friends.” Upon noticing that I had only five fingers, he scowled and moved to snatch the paper back. “On second thought, ne’er ye mind! No numps allowed!” However, I was too fast—and tall—for him, and I held the flyer beyond the leprechaun’s reach. The red-haired fairy made a rude noise, and a ruder gesture, before continuing on his way.
I frowned at the flyer, which was written in both English and Kymeran and depicted a pentacle, in the center of which was a six-fingered left hand. The caption read GOLGOTHAM IS OURS: KYMERAN UNIFICATION PARTY RALLY AT MIDNIGHT: HODGSON HALL.
I decided to duck inside the Emerald Spa, a corner newsstand that claimed to carry every magazine published in every known language, plus genuine egg creams and souvenir snow globes of the Gate of Skulls, to get the morning edition of the
Golgotham Gazette
. As I headed toward the register, a Kymeran woman with moss green hair plaited into a long single braid and coiled atop her head like a rope beehive blocked my path.
“I told you to stay away from our men, nump,” she snarled. “I guess you don’t listen too good.”
With a start, I recognized the woman as Dori, one of Hexe’s old girlfriends. The reason I hadn’t noticed her before was that her scent had changed. The first time I’d met her, she smelled of bergamot and white orchids. Now she reeked of ash and black pepper. I could tell she had just come from her stall at the Fly Market, because she was still dressed in her patchwork skirt, the distaff version of the traditional “coat of many colors” that Kymerans wore to indicate they had magic to sell.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, traipsing around Golgotham like you have a right to be here. Do you think you’re safe, simply because Hexe has you in his bed? Is that it? You think that gives you impunity to walk among us, eh? Well, let me tell you, nump, you may think you’re something special, but you’re nothing more than a dalliance for him; a pretty way to pass the time between the sheets—that’s all. Believe me, I know,” she said, flashing a nasty smile. “He was all sweet on me, too—calling me ‘darling’ and ‘dearest.’ He couldn’t keep his hands off me.”
Dori grabbed her own far-from-insubstantial breasts and began squeezing them to illustrate her point, lewdly grinding her hips against an imaginary lover. I tried to sidestep around her, but she continued to block my path. Every customer at the newsstand was watching us, most of them with amused smirks.
“Oh, it was good between us.
Damn
good! Until I had enough of barely covering the rent and decided to make a living with both hands, instead of the one. He didn’t like
that
, oh no! He’s only with you because you can’t challenge him the way
I
did. But one day he’ll wake up and realize that a nump like you can
never
give him what a Kymeran woman can. And when that morning comes, his Serene Highness will kick you out of bed so fast it’ll make your head swim. Do yourself a favor and get the hell out of Golgotham before it’s too late. You don’t belong here—and you certainly don’t belong with
him
!”
Like the sailorman says, I’d taken all I could stand, and I couldn’t stand no more. I was sick of people telling me where I did and didn’t belong, where I should and shouldn’t live, and who I could and couldn’t love. If it wasn’t my parents, it was Hexe’s family members—but I’d be damned if I would take it from some green-haired skank in a Deadhead skirt.
“It seems to me, if he wanted what a Kymeran woman has, he’d still be with one,” I said acidly as I pushed her aside. I threw my money onto the checkout stand without bothering about the change and headed out the door. I did not look back, even though Dori was still screaming after me.
“You think he’ll make you his consort? Dream on, bitch! When the time comes, he’s going to want someone who can guarantee him a blue-haired, golden-eyed heir! And he won’t pick some chuffin’ nump!”
I was tired of being embarrassed and worrying about offending those around me, especially since I was going to be hated and distrusted no matter what I did or didn’t do. So I shot her the Kymeran equivalent of the bird— using my ring finger instead of the middle one—and kept on walking.
I was halfway down the block when I felt something hit me in the chest. It wasn’t hard enough to knock the wind out of me, but just sharp enough to make me wince. A second later there was a sudden heat against my skin, and I realized it was the amulet Hexe had given me.
I stepped into a nearby doorway and fished the gladeye out from its hiding place between my breasts. The pyramid-shaped amulet was unusually warm, without actually being hot to the touch, and I could see that the artificial eye at its center was now cloudy. I didn’t need Hexe to tell me that it had just diverted a curse with my name on it.
Chapter 15
“S
o—what do you think?” Nessie asked as she exited the dressing room in a gorgeous flowing, off-the-shoulder bridal gown that made her look like a goddess.
“Hmm—what?” I blinked and gave my head a tiny shake to clear my thoughts. “Oh. Yes. It’s very—white.”
“I think it looks positively
lovely
on you,” the personal assistant said, somehow managing to smile while shooting me a Medusa look.
The bridal salon—excuse me,
atelier
—that Vanessa had chosen for her wedding gown was one of those Lexington Avenue boutiques where the bride-to-be and her party get the run of the whole store—excuse me,
workshop
—complete with personal sales assistant, champagne, and hors d’oeuvres. Normally something like this was far outside Nessie’s budget—hand-thrown urns for cremated pets don’t pay
that
well—but her father had offered to foot the bill, possibly out of lingering Catholic guilt for ditching the first Mrs. Sullivan for a sleeker, younger model during Nessie’s sophomore year in high school.
The personal assistant was right, though. I
deserved
that Medusa look. Nessie and I had been looking forward to this afternoon for weeks, and now that it had arrived, I was ruining it by staring off into space and being so distant I might as well be on Mars.
“Could you excuse us for a few minutes?” Nessie asked politely.
The personal assistant, an older woman with frosted hair and horn-rim glasses with a tailor’s tape draped around her neck like a feather boa, removed the half-empty bottle of champagne from the ice bucket. “I’ll bring something a little fresher,” she said with a sigh, and disappeared from the room.
Vanessa sat down on the chaise lounge beside me and took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “God, I’m
so
sorry I dragged you to this place. But it was either today or three months from now.”
“It’s okay, Nessie,” I replied. “I needed to get out of Golgotham anyway. Things are extremely . . .
tense
down there.”
“I can just imagine. That video was . . .” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “Did they identify the victim?”
I nodded my head sadly. “His name was Quid. He was a friend of ours.”
“Oh, Tate—I’m
so
sorry,” she gasped. “I didn’t realize! I would have canceled this whole thing if I’d had any idea.”
“I know you would’ve.” I smiled. “That’s why I didn’t say anything earlier. This is really important to you, and I didn’t want to ruin it.”
Nessie threw her arms around me and gave me a quick hug. “You are
the
best friend I’ve ever had. And you know I love you like a sister, so don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way—but do you really think it’s a good idea for you to go back there?”
“Golgotham’s my home, Nessie. Even now, I’m
still
happier there than I ever was on the Upper East Side. I know you’re worried about me, but so far the only ones getting hurt are Kymerans.”
“Yeah—
so far.
Aren’t you afraid of a backlash?”
“Yes, to tell you the truth, I am,” I admitted. “But I can’t live my life being afraid, Nessie. Besides, Hexe has my back.”
“I’m relieved to hear it. Still, if it gets too hairy down there, you’re more than welcome to stay with me until things settle down. It’ll be great. We can sit up all night and eat ice cream and make fun of crappy movies, just like we did in college.”
“What about Adrian? Doesn’t he have something to say about me crashing on his couch?”
“Him? He can go stay with his brother.” She laughed. “Besides, he’s not supposed to see the bride before the wedding, anyway.”
“That sounds very tempting, but I’m going to take a rain check. I’m afraid Scratch will do something like stuff Beanie up the chimney or roll him up in a window shade if I’m gone too long.”
“You and that dog,” Nessie said ruefully. “Every time I check your Facebook page, all I see are photos of Beanie sleeping, Beanie eating, Beanie asleep in his food! You’re going to make a hell of a mom someday.”
“Bite your tongue!” I laughed. “I’m nowhere near ready for something like that! If there are two things that don’t go together, it’s acetylene torches and diapers. I’ve got my hands full enough as it is with just a gassy Boston terrier and a talking hairless cat. Now, about this gown . . .”
After trying on several more wedding dresses, and emptying another bottle of champagne, Vanessa finally decided on a strapless Junko Yoshioka with a mermaid skirt, a satin ribbon waist-belt, and a lace shrug. The sales assistant seemed impressed by the final choice—and relieved to be free of us.