Taltos (44 page)

Mary Jane reached out and rubbed Mona’s arms. “You okay, darlin’?” Then Mary Jane’s eyes dropped to Mona’s stomach and her face went blank with fear. She lowered her right hand, wanting to touch Mona’s stomach, but she didn’t dare.

“Listen, it’s time to tell you everything,” said Mona. “To give you your choice right now. I was going to lead you into it step by step, but that’s not fair and it’s not necessary. I can do what I have to do, even if you don’t want to help me, and maybe you’d be better off not helping. Either we go now and you help me, or I go alone.”

“Go where?”

“That’s just it. We’re clearing out of here, right now. Guards or no guards. You can drive, can’t you?”

She pushed past Mary Jane and into the butler’s pantry. She opened the key cabinet. Look for the Lincoln insignia.
The limo was a Lincoln, wasn’t it? When Ryan had bought it for her, he’d said she should never be in a limousine that was not black and was not a Lincoln. Sure enough, there were the keys! Michael had his keys and the keys to Rowan’s Mercedes, but the keys to the limo were right here, where Clem was supposed to leave them.

“Well, sure, I can drive,” said Mary Jane, “but whose car are we taking?”

“Mine. The limousine. Only we’re not taking the driver with it. You ready? We’re counting on the driver being fast asleep out back. Now, what do we need?”

“You’re supposed to tell me everything, and give me my choice.”

Mona stopped. They were both in the shadows. The house was dark all around them, light pouring in from the garden, from the big zone of blue illumination that was the pool. Mary Jane’s eyes were huge and round, making her nose look tiny and her cheeks very smooth. Tendrils of her hair moved behind her shoulders, but mostly it was corn silk. The light struck the cleft of her breasts.

“Why don’t
you
tell
me
?” said Mona.

“OK,” said Mary Jane. “You’re going to have it, no matter what it is.”

“Right you are.”

“And you’re not lettin’ Rowan and Michael kill it, no matter what it is.”

“Right you are!”

“And the best place for us to go is where nobody will be able to find us.”

“Right you are!”

“Only the only place I know is Fontevrault. And if we cut loose every skiff at the landing, the only way they can get out there into the basin after us is to bring in their own boat, if they even think of coming down that way.”

“Oh, Mary Jane, you genius! Right you are!”

Mama, I love you, Mama
.

And I love you too, my little Morrigan. Trust in me. Trust in Mary Jane
.

“Hey, don’t faint on me! Lissen, I’m going to go get pillows, blankets, stuff like that. You got any cash?”

“Heaps, twenty-dollar bills in the drawer by the bed.”

“You sit down, come in here with me, and sit down.” Mary Jane led her through the kitchen and to the table. “Put your head down.”

“Mary Jane, don’t freak out on me, don’t, no matter what it looks like.”

“Just you rest till I come back.”

And away went the clicky high heels, running through the house.

The song started again, so sweet, so pretty, the song of flowers and the glen.

Stop, Morrigan
.

Talk to me, Mother, and Oncle Julien brought you here to sleep with my father, but he didn’t know what would happen, but you understand, Mother, you said you understood, that the giant helix was in this case not allied to any ancient evil, but was purely an expression of a genetic potential in you and in Father that had always been there …
.

Mona tried to answer, but it wasn’t necessary, the voice went on and on, singsong and soft and very rapid.

Hey, slow down. You sound like a bumblebee when you do that
.

“… immense responsibility, to survive and to give birth, and to love me, Mother, don’t forget to love me, I need you, your love, above all things, without which I may lose in my frailty the very will to live….”

They were all gathered together in the stone circle, shivering, crying, the tall dark-haired one had come, trying to quiet them. They drew in close to the fire.

“But why? Why do they want to kill us?”

And Ashlar said, “It is their way. They are warlike people. They kill those who are not of their clan. It is as important as eating or drinking or making love is to us. They feast on death.”

“Look,” she said aloud. The kitchen door had just slammed. Be quiet, Mary Jane! Don’t bring Eugenia down here. But we’ve got to be scientific about this, I should have been recording all this on the computer, typing it in as I see it, but it’s almost impossible to accurately record when surrendering to a trance. When we reach Fontevrault,
we will have Mary Jane’s computer. Mary Jane, the godsend.

Mary Jane had come back, shutting the kitchen door quietly this time, thank heaven.

“That is what the others have to understand,” said Mona, “that this is not from hell, but from God. Lasher was from hell, one could say that, you know, speaking metaphysically or metaphorically, I mean religiously or poetically, but when a creature is born this way of two human beings, both of whom contain a mysterious genome, then it’s from God. Who else but God? Emaleth was the child of rape, but not this child. Well, at least the mother wasn’t the one who got raped.”

“Shhh, let’s us get out of here. I told the guards that I’d seen somebody funny out front, and that I was driving you up to your house to get you some clothes and then to the doctor. Come on!”

“Mary Jane, you are a genius.”

But when she stood up, the world swam. “Holy God.”

“I have you, now you hold on to me. Are you in pain?”

“Well, no more than anybody would be, with a nuclear explosion going on in her womb. Let’s get out of here!”

They crept out down the alley, Mary Jane steadying her when she needed it, but she was doing all right hanging on to the gate and to the fence, and then they were in the carport. And there was the big sleek limousine, and bless her heart, Mary Jane had started the engine, and the door was open. Here we go.

“Morrigan, stop singing! I have to think, tell her about the gate-opener. You have to press the little magic twanger.”

“I know that! Get in.”

Roar of the engine, and the rusty, creaky sound of the gate rolling back.

“You know, Mona, I’ve got to ask you something. I’ve got to. What if this thing can’t be born without your dying?”

“Shhhh, bite your tongue, cousin! Rowan didn’t die, did she, and she gave birth to one and the other! I’m not dying. Morrigan won’t let me.”

No, Mother, I love you. I need you, Mother. Don’t talk of dying. When you talk of death, I can smell death
.

“Shhhhhh. Mary Jane, is the best place Fontevrault? You’re sure? Have we considered all the possibilities, perhaps a motel somewhere …”

“Lissen, Granny’s there, and Granny can be completely trusted, and that little boy staying with her will light out of there soon as I give him one of these twenty-dollar bills.”

“But he can’t leave his boat at the landing, not for someone else to—”

“No, he won’t do that, honey, don’t be silly, he’ll take his pirogue up home to his place! He doesn’t come by the landing. He lives up near town. Now just you sit back and rest. We’ve got a stash of things at Fontevrault. We have the attic, all dry and warm.”

“Oh yes, that would be wonderful.”

“And when the sun comes up in the morning, it will come into all the attic windows….”

Mary Jane hit the brakes. They were already at Jackson Avenue.

“Sorry, honey, this car is so powerful.”

“You’re having trouble? God, I never sat up here before, with the whole damned stretch behind me. This is weird, like driving a plane.”

“No, I’m not having trouble!” Mary Jane took the turn onto St. Charles. “ ’cept with these creepy drunken New Orleans drivers. It’s midnight, you know. But this is a cinch to drive, actually, especially if you’ve driven an eighteen-wheeler, which I certainly have.”

“And where the hell did you do that, Mary Jane?”

“Arizona, honey, had to do it, had to steal the truck, but that’s another story.”

Morrigan was calling her, singing again, but in that rapid humming voice. Singing to herself, perhaps.

I can’t wait to see you, to hold you! I love you more for what you are! Oh, this is destiny, Morrigan, this eclipses everything, the whole world of bassinets and rattles and happy fathers, well, he will be happy eventually, when he comes to understand that the terms now have changed utterly …
.

The world spun. The cold wind swept down over the plain. They were dancing in spite of it, trying desperately to keep warm. Why had the warmth deserted them? Where was their homeland?

Ashlar said, “This is our homeland now. We must learn the cold as well as we learned the warmth.”

Don’t let them kill me, Mama
.

Morrigan lay cramped, filling the bubble of fluid, her hair falling around her and under her, her knees pressed against her eyes.

“Honey, what makes you think anyone will hurt you?”

I think it because you think it, Mama. I know what you know
.

“You’re talking to that baby?”

“I am, and it’s answering me.” Her eyes were closing when they hit the freeway. “Just you sleep now, darlin’. We’re burning up the miles, honey, this thing does ninety and you can’t even feel it.”

“Don’t get a ticket.”

“Honey, don’t you think a witch like me can handle a policeman? They never finish writing the ticket!”

Mona laughed. Things couldn’t have worked out better. Really, they couldn’t have.

And the best was yet to come.

T
HE BELL TOLLING …

He was not really dreaming; he was planning. But when he did this on the edge of sleep, Marklin saw images vividly, saw possibilities that he could not see any other way.

They would go to America. They would take with them every scrap of valuable information which they had amassed. To hell with Stuart and with Tessa. Stuart had deserted them. Stuart had disappointed them for the last time. They would carry with them the memory of Stuart, Stuart’s belief and conviction, Stuart’s reverence for the mystery. But that would be all of Stuart that they would ever need.

They would set up some small apartment in New Orleans, and begin their systematic watch of the Mayfair witches. This might take years. But both of them had money. Marklin had real money, and Tommy had the unreal kind that expressed itself in multimillions. Tommy had paid for everything so far. But Marklin could support himself, no problem. And the families could chew on some excuse about an informal sabbatical. Perhaps they would even enroll in courses at the nearby university. Didn’t matter.

When they had their sights on the Mayfairs, the fun would begin again.

The bell, dear God, that bell …

Mayfair witches. He wished he were in Regent’s Park now, with the entire file. All those pictures, Aaron’s last reports, still in Xerox typescript. Michael Curry. Read Aaron’s
copious notes on Michael Curry. This was the man who could father the monster. This was the man whom Lasher had chosen in childhood. Aaron’s reports, hasty, excited, full of concern finally, had been clear on that point.

Was it possible for an ordinary man to learn a witch’s powers? Oh, if only it were a matter of mere diabolic pact! What if a transfusion of the witch’s blood could give him the telepathic abilities? Sheer nonsense, more than likely. But think of the power of the two of them—Rowan Mayfair, the doctor and the witch; Michael Curry, who had fathered the beautiful beast.

Who had called it the beautiful beast? Was that Stuart? Where the hell was Stuart? Damn you, Stuart. You ran like a ruptured duck. You left us, Stuart, without so much as a phone call, a hasty word of parting, a hint of where and when we might meet.

Go on without Stuart. And speaking of Aaron, how could they get his papers from this new wife in America?

Well, everything rested upon one thing. They had to leave here with an unblemished reputation. They had to ask for a leave of absence, without arousing the least suspicion.

With a start, he opened his eyes. Had to get out of here. Didn’t want to spend another minute. But there was the bell. It had to be the signal for the memorials. Listen to it, tolling, an awful, nerve-racking sound.

“Wake up, Tommy,” he said.

Tommy was slumped over in the chair by the desk, snoring, a tiny bit of drool on his chin. His heavy tortoiseshell glasses had reached the very tip of his rounded nose.

“Tommy, it’s the bell.”

Marklin sat up, straightened his clothes as best he could. He climbed off the bed.

He shook Tommy by the shoulder.

For one moment Tommy had that baffled, annoyed look of the just-awakened, and then the common sense returned.

“Yes, the bell,” he said calmly. He ran his hands over his sloppy red hair. “At last, the bell.”

They took turns washing their faces. Marklin took a bit of Kleenex, smeared it with Tommy’s toothpaste, and cleaned his teeth by hand. He needed to shave, but there
was no time for it. They’d go to Regent’s Park, get everything, and leave for America on the first flight out.

“Leave of absence, hell,” he said now. “I’m for leaving, just going. I don’t want to go back to my own room to pack. I’m for heading out of here immediately. The hell with the ceremony.”

“Don’t be so foolish,” Tommy murmured. “We’ll say what we have to say. And we’ll learn what we can learn. And then we’ll leave at the appropriate and less conspicuous time.”

Damn!

A knock sounded at the door.

“We’re coming!” Tommy said, with a little raising of his eyebrows. He straightened his tweed jacket. He looked both mussed and hot.

Marklin’s own wool blazer was badly rumpled. And he’d lost his tie. Well, the shirt looked all right with the sweater. Would have to do, wouldn’t it? The tie was in the car, perhaps. He’d ripped it off when he was driving away the first time. He should never, never have come back.

“Three minutes,” came the voice through the door. One of the old ones. The place was going to be choked with them.