“That was Maggie,” John said.
David sighed. He didn’t like to contradict; all of that upsetting massacre business happened over two weeks ago, but it still seemed very near. John really wanted their avian visitor to be Maggie, even though, as far as David could tell, it wasn’t even the same kind of bird.
Still, what was the worst that could happen? They’d go to the movies and not get kidnapped or assaulted by Erik’s family?
Well, if that was how it shook out, he supposed they’d just try again.
“If it wasn’t, are we still going ahead like we planned?” David asked. “You… You won’t be too terribly disappointed if she’s not here?”
“She wouldn’t leave him,” John said. “She was here. He wrote on the window for her.”
“Yes,” David said. “Still, ah, things can happen…” Things like gods who are still trying to get the hang of their powers issuing unbreakable commands with the best of intent. Just for instance.
“You don’t know these people.” John slipped three passports into the huge manila envelope and fastened the flap shut with the tiny metal brad. He seemed doubtful. He pulled open a drawer and took out a box of rubber bands. “Do you think,” he said, applying one, “we should’ve done more passports? One for Milo and… Probably Hyacinth and the General? Or Calliope? Or Seth? Oh, gods, he used to do tactics, do you think they brought…?”
“Johnny, if they were able to get into this fucked up country, I think they’ve got whatever they need to get out of it. They can’t be as brilliant as you say and that stupid all at once…”
“Yes,” John said. “They can.”
David sighed. “And you’re very sure they… They’re going to stop being stupid long enough to let you explain all this?”
John shrugged, still applying more rubber bands.
“Johnny…” David stopped him with a hand, with Erik’s hand. “You know you don’t have to tell them the truth. I mean, not all of it, not your part in it. You want them to take these things and find something to do with them, I think we at least need them to like you…”
“They need to know everything and I’m not going to blame my friends for something I did,” John said. He’d used a dozen rubber bands or more to hold the envelope securely shut, lengthwise and widthwise. He tucked the whole parcel into the inner pocket of his coat — which he’d only ever used for things he’d meant Erik’s family to have, but never this many of them. “Gods.” He pressed a hand to the obvious bulge. “I look like a smuggler, don’t I?”
“No, dear, smugglers look like they know what they’re doing. Johnny, aren’t you at all worried they might hurt you?”
“If they want to, they have every right.”
“They certainly do not!” David cried. “I won’t let them!”
John backed away — wide-eyed, pained, and suddenly terrified. This car had swerved perilously close to the edge and he had no way out of it. “You promised not to hurt them,” he said. “Please! You promised we’d…”
“I don’t make promises, I break them,” David said coldly. The green glow flared to life. “And I am going to break this one right now! We are not going ahead with this stupid plan or your stupid deathwish, we are going to make some changes, do you hear me? RIGHT NOW!”
John staggered back another step, just one, but that was all he could do.
He listened, nodded, and finally said, “Okay.”
◆◇◆
Shortly after eleven AM, Miss Mila dumped the receiver of the front desk phone into a half-open drawer — the Elysium Inn did not provide hold music — and stamped into the elevator. She danced a simple box step, eyes closed, in three-quarter time. It was enough to get the machine moving and keep it moving. They weren’t paying her enough to climb stairs.
They weren’t paying her enough to deal with any of this, but she wanted to extricate herself from it with the least possible effort.
She walked down the hall and knocked on the door of Room 406. She heard nothing inside, as usual, but there was no answer for over a minute, so she knocked again. “You have another goddamn phone call! I don’t care how many cookies you give me, I am not your answering service!”
The blonde woman squirmed and looked back over her shoulder, once again blocking the narrow gap from the open door with her whole body, and holding the knob in a deathgrip. “Er… What do she say?”
“Talk to her yourself,” said Miss Mila, pointing downwards.
“Aha,” said the blonde woman. “Let me on to put my makeup!” She squeezed back into the room, shut the door, and locked it.
◆◇◆
After a brief and panic-inducing chat with Maggie, Hyacinth threw her whole body into an enthusiastic twist, as one might’ve done last summer, to make the elevator work. She’d left the General at the front desk, to receive any further updates.
“Don’t freak out, it’s just me!” she cried, while in the process of bursting through the door.
Nevertheless, both of them startled, and Milo dropped a box of batteries, scattering them across the bed and the floor. He didn’t even bend down to pick them up.
Hyacinth shut the door, latched it and explained everything in a rush, “They’re heading out now, and it doesn’t make any fucking sense because David doesn’t like any entertainment that happens during daylight hours, except the movies, but we know he’s pissed off all the theatres except maybe the ones near us. And there’s no way they’d come to the ones near us again — unless this is a handoff or a trap. And because David is what he is and does what he does, it might start as one and turn into the other. Are we going to do this?”
“Now?” Mordecai said, horrified. “Do disaster gays look plausible in public before three PM?” He was honestly asking.
“Maybe if,” Hyacinth began.
Milo exploded in a flurry of signs and continued to do so as he backed towards the dresser with Ann’s makeup bag on it. He held up the bottle of Sheer Perfection, with its crystal ball applicator gleaming.
“We only have one more dose of the good stuff,” said Hyacinth. “Is he saying he thinks we should go for it?”
“He thinks it’s a handoff,” Mordecai said for him, “and the god must be in on it, otherwise he wouldn’t let John do it at all. John said he was sorry about gluing him to the pavement, and maybe he only did it because it wasn’t safe for them to run away yet. Maybe they fixed it so it’s safer, or maybe now it just seems safer to try running away than get shot at by the cops.” He sighed. “And I don’t know. I only picked up this strategy stuff piecemeal. What does Maggie think?”
“Maggie thinks it’s not a good idea to get too detailed on the phone.” She shrugged. “But she’s going to call us back when she has some idea where they’re heading. If they’re coming our way, I definitely think they mean to meet up with us.” She turned towards Milo. “But David could also definitely force John and Erik to bait a trap for us, even if they don’t want to. I don’t know why he would, but I have no idea what they’ve been doing.”
“From what they said,” Mordecai put in, “they’re either working for an organization that’s trying to help innate magic-users, or they’re sabotaging one that’s trying to hurt them, from the inside.”
“Or David’s using John and telling him what he wants to hear,” said Hyacinth. She scoffed. “Although it would be really fun to have this argument again without the General telling us to cut it out, I don’t think we’re going to come up with anything new.”
Mordecai flinched. “I’ve just had an awful thought. If they’re trying to trap us, should we let them? What if they need our help?”
“Do you really want to vanish and invite Calliope and Euterpe to show up in this frigged up situation with whatever Lola and Seth have managed to cobble together to help them?”
Milo tapped on the dresser and signed firmly…
“Milo says we kidnap John and Erik first, and then, if we have to, we turn around and come back.”
…then he picked up the makeup bag and pointed to the other room, through the connecting door.
Mordecai sighed. “And he’s going to get changed so…” He sat forward. “So you and Ann can make salad dressing? What…?”
Hyacinth snickered. “She’s the honey, I’m the balsamic, flies like both.”
He stared at them. “That’s not even a… Do you mean a vinaigrette?”
Milo signed: COP [GOOD] COP [ANNOYING].
Hyacinth said, “They know him better than any of you and he likes attention. Don’t worry about it. You do your thing and we’ll do ours.”
Milo saluted and vanished with the makeup bag.
“All right,” said Mordecai, “but I’m not touching that goddamn makeup until Maggie calls back.” He wandered over to the desk, put on a large pair of metal headphones, and pressed play on Milo’s mini tape recorder.
◆◇◆
Maggie plugged an indeterminate amount of change into the phone. It was probably tapped. Everything about this fucking country was fucking hinky in one way or another. They were just used to it around here. Well, she…
Someone picked up after the first ring.
“Um, mne zhal’,” she attempted. She’d annoyed the day clerk previously.
“Anglais will do, Magnificent,” a familiar voice said.
“Mom?” Maggie juggled the phone and managed to get it back against her ear. “Uh, how’s things?”
“We are proceeding with our usual levels of chaos and anxiety, and the day clerk is rather irritated with us, so let us be brief. How are our friends?”
“Pretty sure they want to meet us at the movies, and, uh, Mr. Personalities has a blond wig and sunglasses at the moment.” She laughed plausibly. “Yeah, I think he’s trying to keep a low profile after he made a fool of himself at the club. That weirdo. Um, not sure if we can meet up with them before the movies, but what if we shoot for afterwards? Think we can make it?”
“I will do my very best to help our family organize for an outing — I believe we may manage it. Especially if our friends seem likely to wait for us.”
“Oh, yeah,” Maggie said, nodding. “They’re… Well, I don’t know why else they’d come!” She managed another laugh.
“Do see if you can catch up with them yourself, and we’ll try to meet you at the drugstore across the street.”
“Yes, sir,” Maggie said. “Uh, Mom, I mean. Ha-ha, yeah. See you soon!” She hung up the phone, flushed with embarrassment. Her mom never got flustered or scared about stuff like this.
Well, okay, neither she nor her mom ever had to kidnap a god in a hostile foreign country, but her mom has been through a war. That had to be worse, right?
She staggered off, leaving some coins in the return slot and more on the floor, in search of a suitably secluded place to turn back into a bird.
◆◇◆
“All right.” The General crushed a blood-powered glass battery under the heel of her shoe and put the checklist in the air — in large, glowing letters that would’ve been equally suited to a nursery school. “Please, let’s see if we can’t manufacture some order before it inevitably goes sideways. Earplugs?” It was the very first item on the list.
She heard one voice mutter, “Yes,” and there were a few silent nods.
She sighed. “When we are doing a checklist, we all pick up or put a hand on each item in question, make sure it is secured to our person, and say ‘check,’ ladies and gentlemen. Let’s try again. Earplugs?”
Three rather baffled and obstinate voices eventually said, “Check,” one after the other.
The General tucked a hand in her purse and felt two sets of rubber-based plugs, rated for twenty-eight decibels — she had Maggie’s supplies with her. “Double-check,” she said, followed by another sigh. “Perfectly ridiculous wireless headphones?”
Three checks, plus “and they’re perfectly brilliant” from an irritated Miss Rose, and a double-check. “And we will test them once we get out of the magic-sucking hotel room,” the General added. “Batteries? And please count them, we want at least four each.”
Three checks and a double-check.
“Miniature tape recorder?”
“Check,” Miss Rose said.
“Jury-rigged nonsensical audio splitter?”
“Unhackable audio splitter.” Miss Rose again. “Check!”
“Peanut butter cookies?”
Three checks, “and these are not cookies” from an irritated Mr. Eidel this time, and a double-check.
“I am likewise disappointed the drier and more portable recipe did not pan out, Mr. Eidel,” said the General, “but I will reiterate that the ‘no-bake peanut butter balls’ are not edible, and please do not compress or squeeze them. Laundry bags — and do not unfold them!”
Four checks, and that was enough redundancy. As long as they had one, it would do.
“Steel plate?”
“Check,” said Hyacinth. There was little point in giving an extra one to anyone else.
“Pulley system?”
“Uh…”
“Do you want me to secure it to my person?” Hyacinth said snidely.
“No, but do make sure it functions.”
“Please,” Mordecai added, desperately.
“For gods’ sakes,” said Hyacinth, “this is one of the simplest machines in existence and I made it myself!” She approached the window, yanked on the chain and gave the jury-rigged pulley a spin. For good measure, she grabbed both ends of the chain and leaned her full weight on it, swinging and creaking as she said, “You people trust me to repair a human being but not to put together a screw or an inclined plane?”
Ann cleared her throat. “Milo helped too.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better about it!” said Mordecai.
“Tinted lip balm,” said the General.
“Ugh.” He put a hand in his pocket and fished it out. “Check.”
“I have a backup!” Ann said, holding up her purse. “Double-check!”
“That isn’t quite how I meant the phrase, but that is what I get for being whimsical,” said the General. “And we are very certain the rest of it will not require a reapplication?”
“It took us an hour and half a bag of cotton balls to get him back to normal last time,” Hyacinth said. “That shit’s not coming off for anything less than a grenade.”
“It’s expensive!” Ann said, beaming.
“It feels like I fell face-first into a vat of pancake batter,” he muttered.
“You get used to it!” Ann assured him.
“Violin?” said the General.
“She’s staying here too,” Mordecai said.
“Of course,” said the General. She laid a hand on the case and ticked off the penultimate item. “And lastly, the suitcase?”
Hyacinth undid the latches and opened it on the bed. “Check, check and triple-check!”
“That is hyperbole,” said the General. “But, once again, very well.” She dispelled the checklist, with all of its items secured. “Will you allow us to store you, Mr. Eidel?”
“I won’t be able to test my damn headphones if I’m unconscious in a timeless void dimension,” said Mordecai. “Do you want them?”
“I will remind you to test them yourself when we remove you,” said the General.
“Or you could always ride the pulley down,” Hyacinth said, with a grin.
He cringed and stuffed them back into his coat pocket. “I prefer the void dimension, thank you. I’m used to it.”
◆◇◆
“Nothing,” John said, trembling. “I didn’t see them. Did… Did you see them?”
“No,” David said gently. “But I think we have to give them a little time. We knew we might have to give them a little time. And look,” he nodded towards the glowing marquee, “it’s a double feature. We can give them four or five hours if we really want to be safe!”
“I can’t stand it,” John said. “Not for four hours. I can’t stand waiting. I’m going to be sick…”
“Oh, listen,” David took both his hands and said it quietly, without glowing, “let’s forget all this business about the kidnapping and the terrorism and the plan. Can we just be two friends having a fun time at the movies, right now?”
John wobbled, blinked, and made a small, genuine smile. “Can we get popcorn?”
“It’s not possible to have a movie without popcorn,” David said firmly. “The projector just won’t go. I’ve seen it happen.”
“Erik says that too,” John said. “You…”
“Well, we have no idea who that is, but he sounds handsome,” David replied, pulling him into the theatre.
◆◇◆
They were crammed into a black hatchback with welded-on plates from a different black hatchback. Hyacinth had cranked the driver’s seat forward until she was practically impaled on the steering column, trying to give Maggie enough legroom behind her. The mini-tape recorder was switched to the radio, with a modified wireless audio splitter in the AUX port, and all of them were wearing large metal headsets with a three-inch stub of antenna projecting from the left can. They looked like the cast of a discount movie serial waiting to climb into their cardboard spaceship.
Hyacinth had written “FUCK YOU DAVID” across the front of the headband, in bold black marker, right where he could read it.
Mordecai removed his headset and pulled Hyacinth’s down.
She sighed and turned back to address him, loudly, “I’m not going to change the station every time there’s an ad, just imagine some Beatles!”
“It’s been a long time,” he said — while signing, as Ann and Maggie were watching.
“It’s a double feature!”
“Do you think they’ve reported it stolen?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’ll take ‘em longer than a couple hours to figure out the gag with the plates, so don’t worry about it!”
He did not seem unworried. “Do you think… Do you think they’re trying to give us time to get ready?”
“Probably!” She threw a bag of potato chips at him. “Put your headphones back on and eat something!”
He put the headphones back on, but he did not eat.
◆◇◆
David dragged John into the men’s room, squeezed into one of the stalls with him and latched the door.
“Um,” John protested, blushing. “I’m not that sort of… Well, I mean, I am, but not in a toilet…”
David clamped a hand over his mouth and pressed him against the wall, stifling a scream before it could even begin. He blinked on like a nightlight. “Okay. I haven’t been controlling your mind at all, I have no idea how to do that, I’ve just bullied you through a set of movies by sheer force of personality, like usual, and we are getting back to the plan — the new plan where you don’t get yourself killed — right now.”
John screamed again — muffled, almost inaudible — and clawed at David with both hands, upsetting the sunglasses and the wig.
“Don’t freak out, for heaven’s sake, you looked like you were about to vomit right in the middle of the lobby. Get a hold of yourself. Would you like to…”
“I would like to get this over with, let me out of this fucking toilet!” He pitched forward and threw up — mostly in the toilet, but a little splashed out on his shoes. “Why did you make me eat popcorn?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” David shooed one hand at him and offered a bouquet of toilet paper with the other, looking politely away. “Are we going out the front or the side? That’s all I wanted to know.”
“Um…”
“Oh, for gods’ sakes, let me flip a coin…”
“No.” John stopped him and pushed him back. “Out the side, and walk slow. Give them a chance to notice and do it where no one’s looking.”
“All right. Then let’s.” David paused, turned back, and gave John a hug — from which the man recoiled. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to say… Whatever happens, none of this is your fault.”
“Stop lying,” John said sharply. He pushed past and left the bathroom without looking back.
◆◇◆
Maggie had just done another quick circuit of the theatre, looking for other observers who might interfere. The radio was playing what sounded like a techno remix of “Losing My Religion,” and it was terrible, but she kept bopping her head to the beat, looking plausibly distracted by her huge, obvious headphones. She was at the front of the alley, near the street, when the side door popped open and John and David staggered out into the afternoon sun, blinking.
“Oh, shit,” she said. Almost happily. They were stuck right between her and the car!
As if in affirmation, the engine roared to life, the headlights popped on, and whoever had the radio cranked the volume and the tuner at the same time. If not for the earplugs, it would’ve been painful. The static alone would’ve been enough, but when the dial landed on the Runaways snarling out “Cherry Bomb,” it stayed there, and Maggie laughed aloud — not that she could hear it. Yeah, that oughta do.
The two front doors banged open, and Ann and Hyacinth bailed out at a run. Hyacinth was already talking, inaudibly, and Ann signed, ALONE [ASK]?
Maggie nodded and gave her two thumbs up.
◆◇◆
“Oh, my gods,” David said. He looked one way and saw a running car… Then he looked the other way and saw the person he’d told to go away and never come back two whole weeks ago, also running. “Oh, my gods! What…”
“You should’ve stayed dead, you stupid bastard!” howled a blonde woman in a puffy red coat with amber goggles pulled over her eyes. “But I don’t mind killing you again!”
She was wearing a perfectly ridiculous set of headphones, but all of them seemed to be.
“Get out of the way!” David snapped, flaring to light. “Get out of the way right now! Let him…”
She grabbed the back of his frock coat, dragging him down to her level, and slapped her hand over his mouth. There was a bright white flash which the sunglasses did little to dim. He tried to bite her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t get his mouth open at all.
He knew the metal by the feel. A steel plate. She’d merged it to his skin — and she’d done it so quickly. Oh gods, that maniac had scarred him for life!
He screamed, and couldn’t make a sound.
That big woman with red hair was coming up behind him. He turned and threw the smaller blonde woman at her, then he jammed his hand in his pocket and flung a handful of gumballs at the ground.
By necessity, he’d just glued himself to the pavement, too, but that wasn’t a problem. He was already done for, he wasn’t going to let them get Johnny.
He’d bought himself enough time to turn back and aim a gumball at the brilliant girl who’d told him she was willing to kill for her boyfriend.
He smelled peanut butter. He couldn’t breathe through his mouth and the smell of peanut butter was inescapable. Perhaps he was having a stroke?
“Come back, you idiot, we’re trying to rescue you!” cried Erik’s girlfriend.
John had managed to slip past her, but she was standing amidst a lumpy soup of brown and pink that had only managed to hang on to one of her boots, and it was letting go…
“I’m sorry, I don’t need rescuing!” John called back faintly.
“What?” said the girl, more put-out than murderous.
“Bubblegum has a notorious design flaw, Mr. Valentine,” a voice said, close behind him. The woman with red hair was smiling with a flawlessly painted mouth that made him rather jealous — that part of his face was probably gone. “Mothers all over the world know how to get rid of it,” she said brightly. She’d pinned his arm behind his back. “Now, you don’t want to hurt Erik any more than I do, so why don’t you…”
He signed, one-handed, spelling quickly and clearly: L-E-T-M-E-G-O!
The woman gave a gasp and did so.
David raked his borrowed nails down her painted face, snarling, thinking, I am the prettiest girl at this dance, you pay attention to me! He looked for the blonde harridan, uncertain whether he wanted to try setting her on fire or the sign for “go kill yourself”…
She tackled him, shrieking, “I don’t speak sign!” She pulled down his coat collar and pinned both arms behind him with the twisted fabric. “And neither should you,” she said conversationally. “So I know damn well you’ve been stealing out of Erik’s brain. That is a fabulous idea! You’d better have another look around and see if you can find where the hell you know me from, and why I am threatening your life.” She grinned at him. FUCK YOU DAVID was literally emblazoned on her brow. “Again!”
Over her shoulder, he saw Maggie running towards them, signing, ANN, OK [ASK]? She’d let John go.
He went limp like a slow loris — which he’d thought was very cute until he looked them up in the encyclopedia and found out it was a response to stress, then he’d gone back to Hennessy’s and threatened to burn the pets’ department to the ground.
Funny, they didn’t seem to have a pets’ department anymore. That was a shame.
Wait. What?
He looked for the blonde woman again. Do you remember that thing about the slow loris? he wondered. Or am I losing my…
Someone pulled a canvas sack over his head, and shoulders, and… all of him, actually.
He gasped and thrashed, trying to scream again — No! Not my band organ! I haven’t finished it! — but they grabbed him and threw him…
Somewhere reasonably soft? Funny, he’d sort of expected to get locked in his room and tied to a chair…
What room? What chair?
He knew. A study with a green rug on the hardwood floor and a dresser with a lot of little drawers and gilt details, and a hard, straight-backed chair from the dining room — with no metal parts. A clothesline. They’d used a clothesline. The band organ was in the parlour and they didn’t want him to have it, because bits of him kept getting caught in the gears — but that wasn’t its fault, was it? It didn’t deserve to die!
He remembered, but…
Oh, gods, what was happening to him?
◆◇◆
“Oh, my gods, can he breathe?” Mordecai said aloud, while signing approximately the same thing.
Hyacinth took off her headphones, and pulled his down too. He flinched back from her, uncertain. She shook her head. “He can’t talk or sign,” she said, loud enough to hear through the plugs. She turned down the radio.
“Can he breathe?” Mordecai reiterated.
“Maggie,” Hyacinth said, “sit him up. Check him.” She dipped a hand in her purse and came out with the first aid kit. “Ann, let me see…”
Ann accepted the first aid kit and waved her away. She took down her headphones too. “It’s just a scrape. Please. Let’s get out of here so we can get that thing off of him.”
Erik was sitting up in the trunk area, padded by several pillows and a rug that Ann had purchased nearby during their long wait. The cloth of the laundry bag was fluttering at every breath.
Hyacinth smirked. “You mean the god or the bag?”
“Both,” Ann said.
Maggie crawled out of the trunk area and plunked down on the back seat. “Seconded. Motion carries.”
“Have we lost Mr. Green-Tara or let him go?” said the General.
Maggie sighed. “I let him go. I told him we were rescuing him and he yelled something and ran faster. I don’t know…”
“Mmmph!” Erik added.
Maggie gave him a light swat. “Stop trying to communicate, whoever you are in there. I will punch you, because I know Erik will forgive me.”
“But thanks for letting us know you can hear us,” Hyacinth added. She dropped the car into first without popping the clutch, ground the gears, and pulled out of the alley. “You remember the sound of teaching me to drive, David?” she called back. “You had to figure out how a stick shift worked first! I was thirteen years old! If you can’t find it in there, Erik already knows how to pickpocket things out of my brain, I suggest you figure that out too! Woo!”
She gunned the engine and Mordecai stifled a little moan. It was all for Erik’s sake. At least, he sure as hell hoped it was.
“Let’s drive fast, drink till we black out, and steal ourselves a fucking penguin!” cried Hyacinth.
◆◇◆
It wasn’t far to go. They could’ve walked it if they didn’t have an uncooperative man and/or god in a laundry bag. Hyacinth still hit him up with every random reference and memory she could think of, hoping like hell it was still David in there and she wasn’t tormenting a terrified kid who couldn’t ask what was happening.
She pulled into the alley beside the hostel, the one with the hole in the chain-link fence at the back and, conveniently, only a blank kitchen door facing into it. She disconnected the wires under the dash, killing the lights and the engine all at once, then she hit the button that popped the latch on the hatchback.
Maggie and Ann scooped out the limp, bundled body and held it standing. Hyacinth undid the knot at the bottom of the bag. With a hand on the fabric, she silently counted from three fingers to one. Ann nodded, Maggie frowned, and Hyacinth yanked off the whole bag like a sleight-of-hand artist doing a tablecloth bit. The blond wig came off with it, but he was still wearing the sunglasses, slightly askew, and most of the makeup. It must’ve been expensive.
As expected, he had managed to struggle out of the coat, but he did not try to wound anyone else or run off. Maggie and Ann grabbed him again, just making sure.
“Is it still…?” Ann said.
Erik firmly shook his head, dislodging the sunglasses, which fell to the ground. He seemed to be attempting a disarming smile, but you could only tell from the crease under his left eye. He couldn’t speak or sign.
He turned towards Maggie, hummed a few notes of “Does the Spearmint Lose Its Flavour?” and rolled his metal eye back in his head. It did the full three-sixty. He’d spent about a year of his life learning to do that.
Maggie smiled at him. “I’m sorry, fool. You…”
Hyacinth pushed a hand over her mouth and spoke quickly, “That blond wig makes you look like a cigarette hag with a lawn full of pink flamingos, was that what you were going for?”
Erik snarled and flushed furiously darker. He narrowed both eyes at her — the metal one whirred and adjusted — and he tried to kick her in the shins, but she dodged aside.
“It’s still David, he’s just fucking with you,” Hyacinth said. “Put him back in the bag.”
It was difficult, he kept trying to kick them, but once they pulled it up over his waist, he could only thrash and squirm.
Hyacinth tied the sack around his neck in a gay little bow. “The last time we did this, you were much better behaved. However, if you’d prefer a ride in an ambulance, Ann is perfectly capable of making sure you need one, all by herself. And I think you may have annoyed her…”
“Oh, no, I’m still a big fan!” Ann said, beaming past a swipe of three angry pink scratches that were still beading blood in a few places. “We’ve admired you ever since Cin told us you punched a nun — you’re practically a legend around our house. My little boy is named after you!”
Erik blinked and tilted his head towards her. “Mm?”
“Yes, yes,” Ann said chattily. “Maggie, go on, I’ll deal with him,” she muttered aside.
Maggie scowled at the imposter, dragged the suitcase out of the back, and went around to the front to box up the contraband.
“It’s just how us girls are, isn’t it?” Ann said, indicating the scratches. She winked. “Well, almost girls. You know, Cin says you would’ve thrown me a lovely party, debutante gown and all!”
“My name is Alice,” Hyacinth replied.
He shook his head, staring at them, both eyes wide.
Maggie and the General were departing the alley with the suitcase in tow. Maggie turned and tipped them a little salute.
“…I suppose you’ve been waiting your whole afterlife to hear me say that,” Hyacinth went on, with a smile.
Erik shook his head again, slowly, more doubtful and confused than terrified.
“Anyway, if you behave yourself, I’m quite willing to shower you with that attention Cin says you like so much,” Ann said grandly. Still smiling, she narrowed her eyes. “But I am also quite willing to put you back in the hospital to save Erik, yes. She’s not wrong.”
“She reminds me of you,” Hyacinth said. “Just about seventy-five-percent less evil.”
“You flatter me,” Ann said. “I certainly don’t deserve a life-sized gold statue!”
“Neither did he,” said Hyacinth. She smiled at Erik. “We made you a paperweight. I took it apart and used it to fix a man with a gut wound, I thought you’d like that. Your piano bar went insolvent, Barnaby lost the rest of your money gambling on stocks and died ranting, and I’m still so fucking traumatized I can’t form normal relationships. That’s the kind of memorial a little shit like you deserves.
“But deep down in your slimy little heart,” she said firmly, “in spite of it all, I know you wanted to be good.” She grinned. “That’s why we’re giving you, whoever you are, a chance.”
“Mm,” Erik said weakly.
She patted his head. “We just want to be certain you’re doing your best to pull off the character.”
“Cin,” Ann said. The metal hook on the end of the chain was dangling near ground level.
“…But we don’t trust you to go up in the elevator, and you’re illegal around here,” Hyacinth said. “So we’re about to haul you up about forty feet in a laundry bag…”
“Nnnnn!” Erik shrieked.
“Now, we’re positive the chain will hold you,” Ann said, tugging on it.
“Made it myself,” Hyacinth said. “You taught me how!”
“But the bag is rated for a hundred and fifty pounds,” Ann said. She shrugged. “Dreadfully sorry, it was the best we could do.”
Hyacinth threaded the hook through the bag’s rope handle and signed Maggie a thumbs up. “Hope you’ve been dieting, David!”
“Nnnn! Nnnn!”
“Please don’t struggle, you’ll hit Erik’s head,” Ann said.
Above them, Maggie, the General, and Mordecai began to haul on the chain.
“Think thin thoughts!” Hyacinth called after the swaying parcel.
“It’s all in the mind!” Ann said.
“I can probably still put you back together if you fall from that far! Well, maybe not now!”
“Be brave, you’re nearly there!”
“It’s easier than sneaking up the fire escape!”
“And much safer than jumping off the roof!”
Three sets of hands grabbed the bag and dragged it in through the window.
“Do you think we’ve scared him away?” Ann said.
“No way in hell,” Hyacinth replied. Still grinning, she beckoned Ann after her. “Come on. I’ll ditch the car somewhere after we deal with him.”
◆◇◆
They’d already tossed Erik on the bed, still tied in the bag with just his head poking out and a steel plate welded over his mouth. There was a trio of smashed batteries on the floor, and Mordecai was taking the violin out of its case.
“It’s still him,” Maggie said. “I told him Joan Jett rocks harder than Elton John and he looked at me like…” She blinked and gestured at Ann. “Uh, like that.”
“Joan Jett is very nice,” Ann managed, recovering her smile. “Just maybe not, well…”
Mordecai winced at Hyacinth. “Um, are you sure about this?” He lifted the violin. “I mean, you could wait out in the hall…”
“It’s for Erik, I can handle it,” Hyacinth said. “I want to see him.” She smiled, though it was a bit pained. “I love rock and roll.”
The violinist — once a cellist, then a violinist, then a cellist again and now, apparently, back to violinist — gave a little bow. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Valentine. I’m afraid I don’t know the whole album, but Hyacinth, er, Alice says this one is your favourite.”
“‘The Bitch is Back’ is at least,” Ann muttered.
“Not now, Miss Rose,” said the General.
Mordecai spared another reluctant glance at Hyacinth, then he touched the bow to the strings.
His hand was shaking. He shut his eyes and blew out a breath. He’d been in a cover band, once, long ago. He knew how to fake a song — even for a god who might hurt or kill someone he loved. Hell, he knew how to fake a whole band, when necessary. Magic covered a multitude of sins, like frosting would even out an absolute trainwreck of a cake.
And it was cruel to make Hyacinth wait for it. She’d spent so much of her childhood listening to it by proxy, whenever her unstable guardian was upset, that she’d been able to sing the whole thing from memory, after an absence of thirty-seven years.
He played.
He played “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,” softly at first, almost plaintive, with only the sound of the strings discernible. Slowly, a sound that might have been a guitar faded into the background, and became clearer. Then came the lyrics — a woman’s voice, the same timbre as the violin, singing along. Last of all came the piano. The song was almost over by the time he managed the piano. He really was terrible at piano.
Erik was listening with tears streaming from his eye.
“Hyacinth,” said Mordecai, faintly horrified. If he couldn’t breathe through his nose…
Hyacinth strode to the bed, covered Erik’s eyes with a hand, and removed the steel plate.
“Cin!” Maggie cried. She clamped both hands over her ears and shut her eyes.
“No,” Hyacinth began.
“Play it again!” David cried. “Play it again or I’ll have you all rounded up and shot!”
But he wasn’t glowing, and Mordecai did not feel divinely compelled to play it again. Shakily, he set the violin back on the desk.
Hyacinth giggled. “Oh, wow, I think he forgot how…”
“Please play it again,” David said miserably. “Play it again or I’ll die…”
“Too late, happened already,” Hyacinth said.
“What?” He blinked at her. “What are you talking…”
“That lyric,” she said casually, “I wasn’t sure about it. I had to sing the damn thing into that tape recorder for him, and I haven’t heard it in decades. Is it ‘dogs of society’ or ‘ducks’?”
“It’s ducks, Alice,” he said. “If I have to be shackled to this rotten planet for the rest of my miserable life, you are not going to deny me my howling ducks…” He gasped and rattled Erik’s head. “No, no, what’s happening, where are we?” He scowled at her. “Alice, what the hell have you done to your hair? Haven’t you been conditioning? I have bought you conditioner!”
“It’s him,” Hyacinth said, laughing, crying. She swiped her sleeve across her face. “I don’t know where it came from or what it used to be, but this is him. We got him. He knows who he is and he’s stuck with it.”
The others, Mordecai especially, looked doubtful, but he only opened his mouth and closed it without speaking. No one felt qualified to put together an objection when they had no idea what they’d done or how, exactly, they’d done it. He could still be screwing with them, but if he wasn’t…?
Then they’d either just brainwashed a god or clipped an angel’s wings.
…Or filed off a devil’s horns, depending on how one looked at it.
David had noticed the warped steel plate on the bed and was admiring it. “That’s excellent, Alice. You’re improving! I think you only smudged my makeup a bit, you…” He frowned, “Wait,” and looked up with a snarl, one very angry caterpillar. “You shut my mouth with a steel plate! AGAIN! You… You horrible little girl! I ought to drown you in the bath!”
Everyone else, even the General, drew an audible breath and took a step back.
Hyacinth laughed, sniffled, and grinned. She sat on the bed beside the god, “Don’t worry, I can handle him, we’re fine,” and gave him a hug. “I missed you too.”
