'Why am I here?'
'Because you're dead and Morrigan's dead, and you're the last two Pomps. And here you'll get to decide who gets to live again. The Negotiation always comes down to this. Morrigan vanquished me and he chose you as his opponent.'
I notice Wal, hovering behind Mr. D. The cherub winks at me. He's in possession of a body now, chubby and bewinged, and I'm seeing far too much of his package. He flits this way and that, with a speed and grace that surprises me.
'It always comes to this,' Mr. D says. 'Start a Schism and it ends here on the uppermost branches of the One Tree, the point where all the Underworlds connect and the laws of living and dying are more flexible.'
Then I see Morrigan off to Mr. D's right. His sparrows lift into the air and hover behind him like some winged cowl. Blinking, Morrigan pats his chest, then grins. The injuries we'd sustained are gone.
Around us in a ring are all the other RMs in their ceremonial garb. No corporate gear, just the long dark cloaks of the Orcus. The thirteen regions, the thirteen Deaths. I'm waiting for them to start chanting, 'Fight. Fight. Fight.'
Suddenly the Stirrer helicopter is lifting into view. Half a dozen machine guns fire. The Orcus laugh.
'Cheat!' Mr. D roars. He flicks one hand casually at it, as though it is nothing more than some sort of annoying insect.
The chopper tips, then plummets away. A few minutes later there is a distant popping sound.
A savage smile is stretched across Morrigan's face. I can tell he didn't expect the helicopter assault to work, but Morrigan is the sort of person who will try anything once. He rubs his hands together. His sparrows spin off in two braids of shadow. They loop around him, with the precision of a troupe of stunt jet pilots, then return to their position behind his head. I look over at Wal, he gives me a jiggly shrug. I really wish the little guy was wearing pants.
'So this is it,' Morrigan says. 'The Negotiation.'
'Yes,' Mr. D says. 'And don't think I've forgiven you for running me over. It's a most terribly ignominious way to die. A bullet in the back would have been preferable, or even a knife across the throat-at least that ends with an ear-to-ear smile-but you've never been one for the up close and personal, have you Morrigan? Everything is automated, everything is done at a distance. I don't understand that.'
'Which is why your time is past.' Morrigan moves in. 'It's my time now. Things will run smoothly.'
Mr. D swells. He broadens across the chest, and his limbs lengthen until he towers over Morrigan, and his face is all faces. It is ruptured meat and broken bone, and the furious swelling of flies and worms, and the quiet that comes after. Then it is Mr. D's face again, marked with a silent rage, and he's his usual stick-thin size. 'Not just yet,' he says. 'I stay to see this out. Those rules remain. This, as you said, is a negotiation, The Negotiation. But not between you and me, that has already played out. Between you and him.'
He's pointing at me.
'At last.' Morrigan's grin keeps getting bigger and bigger.
'This isn't fair,' I whisper. Why is Morrigan looking so cheerful?
Mr. D spins to face me, and I see there's a measure of anger in all that rage just for me. 'When is life or death fair?'
'Can we just finish this? I've had enough of your talk, years and years of your bloody talk,' Morrigan says. 'I have a lot of work to attend to.'
'Of course you do,' Mr. D snaps. 'The creatures with which you have made your curly, crooked deals will ensure that. You were the one who started rolling the knuckle bones, Morrigan. But it is up to me to bring it to an end. I cede, I was outplayed, one by one you have gained my powers… but I wonder if you haven't outplayed yourself.'
Morrigan sighs. 'This is exactly why I began this in the first place. I'm tired of this slow, slow bureaucracy. You were never fast enough, nor efficient enough. I know I can do better. Just let me start. Just let me get it done.'
Mr. D is having none of that. 'The cleverest thing, of course, was that you left the weakest Pomp till last.'
The penny drops. Ker plunk.
I realize how I've been manipulated. I glance over at Wal, and he shakes his head. Seems the idea's just struck him as well.
Everything was done to drive me to this place. I would have died a week and a half ago if Morrigan hadn't wanted it to end up here. He shaped everything, probably even Lissa's ability to stay in the land of the living. I don't know how I know that but, here, on top of the tree, I'm certain of it. Lissa came and went too conveniently. Now I understand why Morrigan looked so shocked to see me in the Underworld, and why he had grown so angry at me attempting the ceremony. It hadn't, as I'd thought, been a remnant of avuncular concern. If I had died then, he'd have been forced to fight one of the other more capable Pomps. And he'd counted on me. Of course, he'd adjusted quickly. He'd known I would pomp Mr. D on the side of that road, and had even hurried it along by getting my Stirrer father to fire at me.
I understand now why Mr. D hadn't known about the crows. By that stage Morrigan even had control over them. And why Lissa survived 'unnoticed' around all those Stirrers. I was never meant to die, just to believe I was going to, until he had me where he wanted.
I think about all those other Pomps better able to challenge Morrigan physically or experientially. Morrigan was behind every step I've taken and, looking at it, I can sense his smiling presence in everything. He's known me all my life, knows how I think.
The dickhead even used me as bait.
'You did this because you thought I'd be the easiest one to beat,' I say.
Morrigan looks over at me like I'm a pet he's extremely fond of. 'Steven, you were my best choice. Why do you think you've managed to keep your position as a Pomp all these years?' He shakes his head. 'Even then, you nearly ended up killing yourself a half-dozen times. Why did you go home? That bomb wasn't meant for you, just to keep you away so you wouldn't have a chance to regroup. I needed you running, not thinking, because even your brain starts to consider things eventually.'
Morrigan planted that bomb there himself. Now I know why Molly hadn't seemed worried when I got home. She knew Morrigan, he'd actually taken her for a few walks a couple of weeks ago. My hands clench to fists.
Mr. D motions for me to stop. 'Not yet, boy,' he whispers. Then, more loudly, he says, 'Of course, Steven is quite different now. Your attempts at engineered mayhem were perhaps a little too realistic. I rather think you underestimated him. Now, you have to face the consequences.'
Then it sinks in. What this is all about. The heat of my rage chills.
'I don't want to be RM,' I say, and it sounds a little whiny. 'That's never what I wanted. I was just trying to survive, that's all.'
There's a gasp from all the attendant Deaths. It's as though they can't understand why anyone wouldn't hunger for this job. Mr. D did and Morrigan does, but they have known me in one way or another since I was child. My ambitions have never been as focused or as cruel.
Honestly, I hadn't even thought about it. Maybe I'd had some hazy idea that after beating Morrigan (not that I'd ever really believed that I could) all the other Deaths would gather together and vote on a new Regional Manager. But I'd really only been thinking about the corporate veneer, not the rough and callous beast that lies beneath it.
OK, I'm screwed.
Mr. D brings his bleak eyes to bear on me. 'You want to give all this to him? You want Morrigan to get away with everything he's done, and become the new RM?'
I don't say anything. My gaze slips from Mr. D to Morrigan. There's a bad taste in my mouth that has nothing to do with Stirrers. Bloody Morrigan. He knew I wouldn't want this.
Morrigan smiles. 'Then it's easy. The Negotiation's done. I desire this, I have the will, and I most definitely have applied the way. Send me back,' he says to Mr. D.
Our old boss shakes his head; he even waggles his finger. 'That's not how it works,' he says. 'No, we're talking about death here. And death is brutal.'
'No,' I say. 'I'll do what it takes, but I don't want to be Regional Manager.'
