“It’s all real, Marco,” she said, “All of this.”
Marco seemed like he was going to reply. But then he turned back around. Curled himself up in a way very similar to Rachel. Went back to glaring at the Sapphire Witch.
Who smoothly turned forward. She put the gun in her lap.
Oh yeah, I’m liking this better already, the gun said.
19
He had forgotten about the lighthouse.
Out at the far end of the upper arm of Korbahn Bay, at the top of a rocky cliff sat a lighthouse. Back in the days before satellites and fancy electronics, the lighthouse had been tasked with warning mariners of the jagged rocks outside the bay.
Now it sat, lonely and unused, its massive fresnel lenses dark.
But, perhaps, not unoccupied.
The Sapphire Witch stepped out of the van with a smooth motion. The cold, salt tinged air made Hilario shiver. Somewhere, out in the darkness, waves crashed against rock.
The lighthouse jutted up, a thick, pale finger, barely visible in the van’s weak headlights. A bright galaxy of stars stood out behind it. More stars than he’d recalled seeing in the sky before.
Then again, he didn’t get outside the city very often. If at all. He was a city clown, not a country clown.
The Sapphire Witch turned her head his way. The lenses of her brass rimmed goggles glowed with soft blue light.
“Come, clown,” she said.
Under his breath he said, “I do have a name, you know.”
Not loud enough for her to hear. Hopefully.
Though he shouldn’t complain. There were worse things to be called. And, technically, his last name was Clown. And he and the Sapphire Witch were certainly not on a first name basis. So maybe Hilario would be too familiar of her.
“Now, clown.”
But he could definitely hear that lower case ‘c’ in her voice.
And maybe he should stop stalling and get his massive posterior out of the van.
He pushed the door open and slid out of the van with far less grace than she had. He glanced back his passengers. Rachel, Larry, and the kidnapped and still unconscious Rodney still sat (or lay in Rodney’s case) as they had on the trip up.
Marco moved to leave the van.
“Perhaps you should stay,” Hilario said.
“Fuck that,” Marco said, “This is an active investigation. And all my suspects are right fucking here. I’m going in.”
Oh goody.
At least he didn’t have the gun any more. He’d seen the Sapphire Witch slip it into her coat as she left the van.
He came around the front of the van just as Detective Marco exited.
With Rachel.
Her mouth was set in a thin line of determination. Her eyes shouted defiance.
Oh, not good.
“You should stay here,” Marco said.
“No,” she said.
He started to say something, but the Sapphire Witch settled the matter.
“She will come.” The Sapphire Witch pointed a slender, be-ringed finger at Marco. “Bring the traitor.”
Traitor?
Marco exchanged glances with him. Then Rachel.
The Sapphire Witch sighed. “The delivery driver. Rodney of North Southton Apartments.”
Marco spat on the ground. “Bring him yourself lady,” he said, “I’m not your pack mule.”
Rachel stepped up to him. Whispered in his ear.
Marco straightened up. Glared at her. Then turned back to the van.
“Really hate this shit,” he said.
A moment later he was back out with Rodney–who was apparently a traitor– slung over his shoulder.
“So where are we going, your majesty?” he said.
“Into the eye,” she said, nodding toward the lighthouse. And set off walking toward it with a smooth stride.
The eye?
Eye…eye…eye…
Oh. Shhh–poop.
Hilario scrambled to catch up to her. His rolls of fat bounced and slapped against each other. His knees and back screamed at the sudden demands on them.
But it was his heart that suffered the most. Pounding both in terror and exertion. He wouldn’t have blamed it for quitting right then and there. Screw this, I’m done.
But it soldiered on. Though his bladder nearly quit on him, too.
The Eye…
“My lady…my lady,” Hilario said, cold, salty air burning in his lungs. “Is this the Eye? The Eye of Malachi Point?”
“Of course clown,” she said, “What else would it be?”
“I thought it might just be a lighthouse.”
“Nothing here is ever just one thing, is it?” she said.
No, of course not. That would be too simple. And safe.
Holy poop on a stick. The Eye of Malachi Point.
He fell back, unable to keep up with her stride. Marco and Rachel caught up with him. Rodney the traitor’s limp body flopped on Marco’s shoulder with each step.
“What the fuck was that about?” Marco asked.
Hilario shook his head. Wrung his gloved hands together. “It wouldn’t mean anything to you,” he said.
“Bullshit,” Marco said, “Is this where the terrorist cell meets or something?” He dug in his pocket. “I need to call this in.”
He pulled out a cell phone. For a moment Hilario was both worried and hopeful. More people with guns would be bad. But then again, maybe someone else would take charge of the situation.
Marco growled out another wad of profanity. “No signal,” he said. He shoved the phone back in his pocket.
Why wasn’t that a surprise?
The Sapphire Witch reached the lighthouse and stopped. An iron fence surrounded the building on three sides. The fourth side was a sheer cliff. So fencing that part must have been deemed unnecessary.
A double doored gate, closed with a thick chain and even thicker padlock blocked their way.
Hilario stopped a respectful distance behind the Sapphire Witch. Waited for her to blast the lock and gate to pieces.
But she just stood there.
Marco and Rachel stopped beside him.
