I stood, handing the photo back to Caern. “It’s a beautiful family,” I said and slid the old Polaroid I had of her and her friend Dree at the concert out of my pocket. I handed it to her as well. She gasped, covered her mouth, and made a little squeak.
“You talked to Dree! How is she?”
“She’s good. Working at the bank her father works at. She said to tell you she loves you, and misses you, and that your cat is fine.”
“Oh my god, Artemis!” she said. “She’s okay?”
I nodded and couldn’t help but laugh a little at her excitement.
“You keep that picture,” I said. “I don’t need it anymore.”
“You’re not going to tell him about me, about us, are you?”
“No, I promised him I’d see if you were okay. You’re doing better than okay. The son of a bitch doesn’t need to know anything else.”
“Thank you,” she said and hugged me tight. “Please be careful, he may not take no for an answer.”
“It’s the only answer he’s going to get,” I said, “I promise.” She hugged me again.
Caern walked me to the front door. We paused by Garland and he looked up at me and his mother. “Garland, this is Ballard, he’s Mommy’s friend.” The boy looked at me and I saw the doubt on his face before he looked to his mom for reassurance. “It’s okay,” she said. “I feel it too, baby. He’s sad inside, but that doesn’t mean he’s bad.” The boy looked at me and I could feel his judgment. I tried to play it off with a wink. Garland would have none of it.
“It’s hard for him, for us,” Caern said. “We feel everything like it’s physical. It’s wonderful and it’s terrible.” I knelt by Garland so we were pretty much eye to eye.
“Good for you, Garland,” I said. “Be sure about who you trust, kid.” He nodded and gave me a slight smile. There were gaps between his tiny teeth.
“Okay,” he said. “You too.”
I stood.
“Look after your mom and dad. You got good ones and that’s rare.”
Caern opened the door for me. “Thank you, Ballard,” she said.
“No, thank you,” I said.
“For what?”
“I don’t know, for making it out, I guess.”
She gave me a sad smile.
“The only way out is through,” she said, “but you already know that. Good luck, Ballard. Thank you for keeping us safe. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I never see you again.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I get that a lot.”
TWENTY-THREE
On the way back to L.A., I called Vigil on the secure cell. “Where the hell are you?” he said, answering his phone.
“I found her,” I said. “Caern, I found her. She’s alive and she’s okay. Happy even.”
“What?” he said. “Wait, where? Where is she, Ballard?”
“She’s safe and she wants to be left alone,” I said. “That’s all Ankou gets. It’s more than the bastard deserves.”
“Okay, okay,” Vigil said. “Fair enough. He won’t be happy but he did agree to that. Where are you now?”
“Headed to LAX to meet Grinner. He’s digging up some stuff for me on the cult. I’m going to close the books on them before we get the hell out of Dodge. Tell Ankou I said he still owes me, I did what he wanted. I expect him to honor his side in this and try to get Torri out of her service.” The line was silent.
“I’m not so sure he’s going to see it that way,” Vigil said. “He may refuse unless you give him more details.”
“Yeah, well, that’s all he gets, deal or no deal. Meet you at the mansion in a little while.”
“Okay…” Vigil said. His voice sounded odd. I hung up.
We stopped at a convenience store outside L.A., and I excused myself to the men’s room after buying a road map and a Sharpie marker. In the bathroom sink I drew the appropriate symbols on the map and then burned it while incanting a spell of entreatment to IahXaiq, the god of lost travelers and forgotten roads. It was some road magic I had picked up off the mad scrawlings on a truck stop bathroom stall outside of Hartford. The scribbling, in black marker, raved about the glory and the horror of a place called Metropolis-Utopia that I never, ever wanted to visit.
The spell should cover my tracks pretty well if anyone tried to scry where I had been in the last day or so. It also cost me a single memory, don’t ask me which one. The gas station attendant bitched at me for the smell when I walked out of the smoking bathroom, a little dazed.
“You’re gonna set off the sprinklers, you stupid son of a bitch!” he bellowed. I had the presence of mind to flip him off, I think, still in the fog of the god’s kiss.
Santos dropped me off at the LAX main terminal. I handed him the last of the money in my wallet, a few hundreds and some twenties. He handed me a hundred back.
“Nah, man, you keep it,” he said. “From what I’ve seen, you’re going to need it.”
“Thanks. You ever need any help, you ask around. I owe you. You’re a good guy,” I said. Santos waved. My cell began to chirp.
“I may need you to explain all this to my wife. You got my number. You need a ride, shout.” He drove away and I answered the call.
“Please tell me you are long gone.” It was Dragon.
“I’m at LAX,” I said, “meeting Grinner.”
“Listen, you need to get out of town right now,” she said. “The Maven has sent out a pronouncement, not just to L.A., to Nightwise globally. She’s put you on the LibMal, you’re number one. Congratulations.”
The LibMal was the Libro de
