Zeke's eyebrows crept up. "You got invited to the Rathole? You must be a miracle worker."
William hid a smile. Sure, he was.
Zeke pulled the door open. "Pleasure doing business with you."
"It's all yours," William growled.
Cerise looked up from the counter. "Are you done?"
"Yes." William nodded.
"Zeke, can we use your back door?"
"Sure thing," Zeke said.
A moment later they were outside, and William inhaled the scents of the swamp town swirling around him.
"Took you for everything you had?" Cerise's eyes laughed at him.
"I held my own."
"Sure you did." The back of the shop faced the Mire, and Cerise headed straight for it. "Our ride is this way."
"We have a ride?"
"My cousin," she said. "Come on, Lord Bill. We've kept him waiting long enough already."
"GENEVIEVE . . ."
The soft insistent voice reached through the fog clouding her mind and tugged on her, demanding attention.
"Genevieve ..."
Slowly Gen opened her eyes to the blurry world wrapped in a shroud of light too bright for her dilated pupils. The pain came slowly, from some dark well within her. It built on itself, growing dense and heavy. Hot claws ripped into her insides, and the world reeled and shuddered. A face blocked her view. It seemed ridiculously large, bigger than her, bigger than the room, darker than light.
"Can you hear me, Gen?"
"Yes," she whispered through the tortured tempo of her breathing. She knew this voice. She knew it very well.
"Your daughter, Cerise, went to the Broken and came back. Why would she do that? Tell me." A hand stroked her hair, and the voice came again, gentle, friendly, caring. "I know you're tired. Tell me why Cerise went to the Broken, and I'll let you rest. Come on, darling."
Her dry cracked lips moved, shaping the words. "Go to hell, Spider."
The pain swelled larger and suddenly burst like a fiery explosion. Her ears filled with the ringing of countless bells. The fire slid down into her chest and lower to scald her legs. It scorched the skin, melted the muscle, and sank its teeth into the bone. Instinctively she tried to curl into a ball, like a newborn, but couldn't. The world spun in chaos, faster and faster with each rise of her chest, as if fueled by her breathing. Gen Mar retched and sank into oblivion.
CERISE strode down the twisted path, listening to the chorus of Edge cicadas seesawing in the underbrush. Night had claimed the Mire. It came on padded feet, soft and cautious, like a swamp cat, with its ears raised and its eyes opened wide. The reds and yellows of the sky burned down to deep indigo and purple. To the left the lazy, wide expanse of Deadman River stretched into the gloom. As the cooling air drained warmth from its calm current, the last of the nightweaver dragonflies streaked to the water, prickling the surface to snag water fleas in their chitinous claws.
She loved the night. The world seemed bigger somehow, the sky vast and endless, the soft darkness full of possibilities and excitement. Yeah. Right now excitement was the last thing they needed. Jogging down the path in hopes of watching Lord Bill trip on a stray root was as exciting as she wanted it to get. So far he hadn't stumbled once. It was like the man could see in the dark.
He went through Kent and his thugs like a sharp knife through a ripe pear. Didn't even break a sweat. She'd never seen anything like it. Kaldar once took her to an action movie in the Broken and she'd laughed the whole time at the ridiculous punches and kicks she could see a mile away, but she had to admit, the fights did look pretty. William's fight didn't look pretty. It was terrifying. He moved on liquid joints, so fast and sure, she just stood there and watched him until he was done.
She wished she could've watched again, in slow motion this time. He could've killed them all with his bare hands. He looked like he might have enjoyed it, too. And after all of that, he trotted over with a "Wasn't I cool?" look on his face and tried to make her laugh. I left you one. Heh. He wasn't even winded.
She glanced at the sky for a second. It spread above her, vast and cold. Why now? she asked in her head. Why couldn't I have met him a month ago, when I could flirt, and laugh, and didn't have to worry about sending the family to the slaughter?
She looked at him. Lord Bill trotted down the road, soundless, like a night shadow. She couldn't hear his steps, and she'd spent a lifetime listening for odd noises in the swamp.
If he is that good with his hands, I wonder how he is with his blade.
She could beat him. Of course, she could beat him. But it would be interesting to see what he could do up close.
She should've left him in Sicktree. That would've been the smart thing to do. But she never claimed to be smart. He knew the Hand and was willing to fight it, and that was good enough for now. She would sort out her own feelings later. When they were safely inside the Rathole, and she was clean and had a plate of food and a mug of hot tea.
It took all of her will not to laugh when he'd refused to give her money up front for guiding him to Zeke. It was such an Edger thing to do. He still hadn't paid her either. She killed a snicker. She bet Zeke took all of his money and Lord Bill was too proud to back out of the deal.
William stopped. One moment he strode next to her down the narrow path between the cypresses and the next he froze, caught in mid-step. His hand went to his blade.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I'm not sure." He stared at the old cypress up ahead.
Heh. He had found Urow. Cerise breathed a sigh of relief. She'd figured Urow was all right when she saw Lagar's men on the road. If they'd known where he was, either the lot of them or her cousin would be dead by now.
"Come out," she called. "He sees you."
A huge gray shade peeled itself from the cypress. Urow stepped onto the path. He wore blue jeans, no shirt, and no shoes. As if on cue, the moon rolled out from behind a ragged cloud. Silvery light bathed Urow's gray skin. He stood five feet tall and seemed nearly that wide across his shoulders. Huge slabs of muscle lined his massive chest and biceps. His left arm was human. His right was at least six inches longer, with thicker longer digits. Black claws tipped his fingers and toes.
William stared. She didn't blame him. Urow would give anyone pause, especially in the dark. His looks won him no friends, but nobody was in a hurry to become his enemy either.
Cerise walked over to him and gave him a hug. "How are you?"
Urow hugged her back, patted her gently. "What took so long?" His voice sounded like it came through a gravel grinder.