“Sleep? You drug me.”
“It is sleep if I say it is.”
“Another of your lies? I heard your others. I know a lie when I hear one.” He coughed and felt spit lodge in his throat. “I am an artist at scams, falsehoods, and lies, and you, sir, you lie.”
He’d made the word lie into the worst of slaps. It was a veritable dagger to this man’s heart, because he knew how to shape words, artful words, nice words, and vicious, hurtful words.
“Hahah-hah.” The Storyteller waited for his soldiers to leave, then a smile split his face and he leaned over Xander.
“You call them lies. I name them illusions. They infect those I give them to and multiply like good little mice. Remember I sent your brother to Hell? I also took your brother’s heart. I ripped it from him, and discarded it, or so he believes, and belief is all. I threw his heart away.”
“No.”
“Oh, it is a yes. Your brother is doomed. No one has ever escaped my illusions, sir. My very wonderful Infectious Illusions. No one except for you. You will never see him again.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
waited at the wagon, perched on the end of the driver’s bench, while John went and found Ruth and Shades. Rocky was tied to the wagon along with Pearbottom. Po had already changed into traveling clothes, and the saddle bags were packed for an emergency departure. The others arrived while she was staring out across the campfires on the periphery of the caravans. Now and then a rider would pass between her and a fire, blocking the firelight, so she knew the guards were out there and vigilant. So many of them.
It was a worry.
Ruff arrived too and he bang-bounced up onto the seat in one leap and began sniffing her hand, as if she might have some food for him. The moonlight showed his white fur covered in sticky flowers—some of them woven into garlands, and she couldn’t help giggling at the sight.
“He has befriended the children here. They make him out to be a baby when they play,” Shades said.
“Ah.” It was a sad reminder that they were the outsiders here. “And the other matter?” She smiled wanly. “Is it possible? I’ve been watching all the mounted guards. The prince will surely have told them of us.”
“Ten of my cyclans might have trouble if they did not concentrate their efforts. It will not be simple but Rocky, your horse, is well enough to ride. One could distract them and loose their other horses, kill a few. I can see all of them easily with this, even in the night.” He tapped his artificial eyeball.
Shades planned to be a suicide rearguard? “Nooo. That is not a plan!”
John spoke up. In his hands were a weapons belt with the holstered wheel-lock pistols. “I will do this, alone, and no one will get hurt, except for…” He looked outward as he buckled the belt. “Them.”
“John. No. Not you too. We move as a unit. You cannot.”
He eyed her. “And you agreed to obey me. I’m telling the truth. I can do this. Give me five minutes, then move out that way.” He pointed. “Besides, Shades said he can navigate through the volcanic field up there. This, now, is my day, my time when I rule.”
The red glow on the horizon signaled where the volcano waited.
She swung her gaze from John to Shades and back then sighed. She had agreed to obey, but not for this, for sex. Still, she sensed an assured arrogance in him.
Of course, that was him as he was most days. He’d always said he was a perfect killer. Something about him had struck her as fearsome from the moment they met—likely because his eyes were on fire, and he said he’d killed demons in Hell.
“It is night, not day, John. But… okay. If you are lying to me, I will track you down in the afterlife and—”
“You won’t. I won’t be there.” Then he grinned. “Besides, you’d only get your ass spanked. Five minutes. Then you follow.” He held up his splayed hand then turned and loped into the night.
“Dayum,” Ruth breathed. “You two have progressed.”
As if the spanking was what should concern them. She shook her head. “Who is timing this?”
“Me.” Shades tapped the side of his head. “Internal clock.”
“Uh-huh. That’s my man, though trying to sacrifice yourself when we need you for the volcano part was stoopid.” Ruth smacked his shoulder lightly.
Shades said nothing, seeming quieter than was his normal, his mouth downturned.
“You think he’ll be okay then, Ruth?” Po nodded in the vague direction of where John had run, for he was no longer visible.
“Yep. I do, Miss Po. The man spoke truth. I am more concerned for the guards.”
The first sign something was happening out there was a cut-off yelp, then horses stampeded and guards galloped by. Po’s heart raced too. Flashes and bangs seemed to show where guns were firing, and since the Kostanians had not yet caught on to the new fashion of shooting things much at all, she was certain that was John and his wheel-locks. She counted the shots, and there were gaps in between when she heard yells, or saw a body drop from a horse before a campfire.
The five minutes were up only a little while after the last gunshot. By then there was a lot of yelling and screaming, and people fleeing to left and right.
Po was already mounted on Pearbottom. Ruth, Shades, and her headed in the indicated direction, with Rocky on a lead that Ruth held.
They passed slumped bodies, saddled horses trotting without riders, and one severed head, but they
