“Well, if nothing else,” he said, “this should at least prove interesting.”
It’s not about whether or not it’s interesting, Jack thought. It’s about saving lives.
But he kept it to himself. At least Ayabe was on board. With any luck, maybe they could actually defuse this whole situation before it exploded and took all of them down.
Far from Home
Lizzie
That couldn’t have been Geordie, Lizzie thought, staring harder at the second-floor window of the battered old farmhouse where she thought she’d seen his face. How could it have been? Except, what was so implausible about Geordie suddenly appearing here? Hadn’t she already been shown that anything could happen in this place? Anything.
Real, not real. How were you supposed to know anymore?
She might have actually seen Geordie, or it might have been just another piece of this freak show she was stuck in—trapped in this stupid dream world inside Jilly’s head.
If you were looking for unbelievable, how was that for unbelievable? Not to mention totally unfair.
How had she ended up here anyway? Better yet, why had she ended up here? She’d never wanted very much out of life: the chance to play her fiddle, the companionship of travelling with her friends, trying to be a good person, maybe someday finding that special someone. But she’d have settled for just getting along without any particularly dramatic crises.
Instead, the only thing she’d managed to do with her life was getting lost in this horrrible world, all her twenty-seven years scrunched back into a child’s body. Worse, she had only an expanse of smooth skin where her mouth should be. Under the skin, a solid piece of bone. No teeth, no muscles, no jaw. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t eat or drink.
Ignoring Mattie, she moved a little closer to the house, trying to get a better view of what was inside. Maybe she could find Jilly and figure out a way to tell her they could escape. Then Del appeared in the doorway with a grin on his face that made her wish she’d just stayed in the field with the goopy mess in the grass that was all that was left of the priest.
“Isn’t this sweet?” Del said, his gaze moving between them. “Two of my best girls, wanting to know if I can come out to play.”
Beside Lizzie, Mattie giggled. Lizzie turned to look at her. She wanted to punch the little twit in the face, break her nose and make it bleed. She even got so far as clenching her fists when she realized what she was thinking.
God, when had she become so violent? Was that going to be her new answer for anything she didn’t like or couldn’t make go away? Kill it, or at least try to hurt it? And it wasn’t even Mattie she was mad at. It was her own helplessness, and Del, who’d made her weak.
“Our little nameless girl looks mad, doesn’t she, Emily?”
Lizzie turned back to face him. Her hands fell limply open at her sides.
Don’t, she wanted to say and felt more disgusted with herself than ever for being so helpless that she’d be willing to beg like this. Don’t hurt me. Whatever it is you’re going to do to me, please don’t make it worse.
She had no voice. She had no mouth. She couldn’t speak. But Del could read the fear in her eyes.
“You’d better be scared,” he told her. “Emily knows why.”
He doesn’t know Mattie’s real name, Lizzie thought. She had no idea what that meant, if it meant anything, but she filed it away all the same. Know your enemy, Johnny had been fond of telling her when they’d worked out at the gym. He’d meant the way the enemy moved, how he might be telegraphing his moves, but Lizzie figured that anything she could add to the little she knew could only help.
“Everything belongs to Del,” Mattie said. “And everybody is here to do what he says.”
“Think you’ve learned that lesson yet, little nameless girl?”
Lizzie gave a quick nod. Was he going to give her back her mouth?
She tried not to let the hope rise, but it was impossible to stop it. She knew better. She really did. But she couldn’t stop it.
Del grinned at her and shook his head, and all her hopes went crashing down again, just as she’d known they would.
“No, I don’t think you really believe,” he told her. “You still think there’s some way you can get out of this.”
“She’s so stupid,” Mattie said.
“That’s right, Emily. She’s just not as smart as you.” He cocked his head and studied Lizzie for a long moment, before adding, “But maybe she can learn. What do you say, little nameless girl? Do you want to learn how to be smart?”
Lizzie nodded. She didn’t really. She knew that whatever he was talking about was only going to be worse than things already were. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“Then you better come inside,” Del said. “Both of you. Emily can show you how to make me happy. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, little nameless girl? You want to know how to make me happy, don’t you?”
Lizzie was spared the need to answer. There was no question but that she was going to agree, only she never got the chance. Before she could nod, before either she or Mattie could take a step toward the house, a dog burst out of the long weeds behind them and came to stand between the girls and Del. It was a broad-shouldered pit bull, its short fur the colour of honey.
Lizzie felt no hope at its appearance. It wouldn’t be able to protect her. Del would see to that.
“The hell?” Jilly’s brother said. “I don’t know where you came from, but you’re sure not squatting your ugly ass anywhere around here.”
He made a wave with his hand in the direction of the dog. Lizzie tensed, waiting for the dog to disappear, or turn into black goo, or maybe just explode. But nothing happened.
The dog growled, low in its chest, and took a step forward.
Del waved his hand again. Dirt spat up around the dog as though the ground had sustained a powerful blow, but the dog was untouched. Unmoved. It growled again, lower, angrier, and then something wonderful happened. Lizzie saw fear in Del’s eyes.
She had no idea why he couldn’t deal with the dog the way he had Timony and the priest. She was just so relieved to see that he wasn’t all-powerful.
Was Jilly finally waking up to the fact that Del could only have power over them if she believed that he did? Maybe there was hope after all.
The dog suddenly charged Del, leaping high. Del vanished before the jaws could close on his throat. The dog’s trajectory carried it toward the open door of the house, but the door slammed shut before the dog could reach it. The dog banged into the wooden slats and fell to the porch, off-balance. It was on its feet almost immediately, turning this way and that, searching for Del.
As soon as it realized it was alone on the porch, it returned its attention to the door. Standing on its hind legs, the dog tried to work the doorknob, its claws sliding from the smooth metal.
When it turned back to them, Lizzie and Mattie both took a step back.
Can one of you open this?
The voice rang in Lizzie’s head—a weird and awful intrusion. It took her a long moment to realize that it had come from the dog.
Mattie was quicker on the uptake. Not bothering to reply, she turned and bolted back into the fields behind them. Lizzie tracked her as she fled through the tall weeds, then her gaze went up to the second-floor windows. In the one where she thought she’d seen Geordie earlier, Del was framed, looking down at them. It was hard to tell—what with the distance and the dirty windowpane—but he didn’t seem scared anymore. He just looked mad.
Girl, the voice said in Lizzie’s head, bringing her attention back to the dog. I asked if you can open this door for me.
You . . . you can talk? Lizzie thought, trying to focus the question and send it to the animal. In my head?
She thought that if the dog could speak in her head, maybe it could read minds, too.
In a fashion. Why do you look so surprised? You should know. Without a mouth, how else do you speak?
Del sto
le my mouth.
Ah.
Why couldn’t he hurt you? Lizzie asked.
He doesn’t have power over me.
But why not?
No one will ever have that kind of power over me again, the dog replied.
There was something dark and dangerous in its voice that told Lizzie this wasn’t an area she should be trying to explore any further, and at any other time, she might have respected the dog’s privacy. But if it knew a way to get around Del’s control, she needed to know it.
Yeah, but how does it work? she asked. I thought he was like . . . I don’t know, God. At least until Jilly stops believing in him.
Jilly is here?
You know her?
I’ve come to find her, the dog said.
It figured, Lizzie thought. There weren’t all those magical stories about Jilly Coppercom for nothing.
Have you seen her? the dog went on. Do you know where she is?
Lizzie pointed to the house behind the dog.
She’s in there.
The dog didn’t turn around.
And so I repeat, it said. Can you open the door for me?
Lizzie glanced up at the window, but there was no sign of Del now.
I don’t know, she said. I guess I could try.
The dog moved aside as Lizzie came up the stairs and approached the door.
So, what’s your name? she asked.
I don’t have one, the dog replied. But I’ve been called Honey.
Was that why Del had no power over her? Did he need to know your name before he could do all these horrible things to you?
But then she remembered what he kept calling her. Little nameless girl.
He didn’t know Lizzie’s name, but he was still able to steal her mouth.
Can you teach me how to stop Del from having power over me? she asked. I’m a full-grown woman trapped in this child’s body. I want my real self back. I want my mouth back.
You must be the fiddler Joe told me about, Honey said. Lizzie.
That’s me.
She tried the door knob, but it wouldn’t turn.
It’s locked, she added.
Honey nodded. Then we have to do this the hard way.
Before Lizzie could ask what she meant, the dog took a run down the porch, then flung herself at the window, head tucked down to protect her eyes. She went through in a crash of breaking glass.
All Lizzie could do was stand and stare until the dog’s face appeared back in the window, her paws on the sill. Blood trickled down her forehead and onto her muzzle from the cuts on her head.
Are you coming? Honey asked.
Lizzie hesitated a moment longer, then nodded and ran to the window.
Geordie
I was still trying to comfort Jilly—a hopeless endeavour since she could neither see nor hear me—when Del suddenly reappeared in the room. He stalked to the window, then turned away, the fury plain on his face. For a moment there, I thought I’d seen a trace of fear in his eyes, but it was gone now.
“Goddamn it,” he said. “Where did that dog come from?”
Jilly never looked up. So far as she was concerned, he was no more here than I was. But then he kicked at the man-shaped pile of debris on the floor that had once been me. Leaves and twigs and dirt went flying across the room.
Jilly screamed.
“Shut up,” he told her. “Just shut up. You want to lose your mouth like your lippy friend did? Because I’m the man can make it happen.”
The Jilly I’d always known was back now. The fearless Jilly who wouldn’t back down for anyone. Tears still wet her cheeks, but her gaze was cold and hard as she looked up at her brother.
“I don’t care,” she told him.
She got to her feet, ready to pit her child’s body against him.
“Oh, you care,” Del said. “You say you don’t, but bottom line, everybody cares. Everybody’s looking out for number one.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Do whatever you want to me. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“And why’s that, little sister?”
Her gaze went to my transformed remains, scattered the length of the room now.
“You’ve already taken the only thing I care about away from me,” she said. “What does it matter what else you do?”
I don’t know why, but it took me a few moments to realize that she was talking about me. Then I understood. I might have thought I hadn’t heard her right, but I’d already realized the same thing myself: she was the most important thing in the world for me as well. I’d always known that. I just hadn’t known it, if you know what I mean.
How was that for a kicker? Here it was, too later for either of us now. I was dead, or at least a disembodied spirit with no body to return to, and she was locked in this monstrous nightmare taking place inside her own head where it was impossible to escape. And now we admit this to ourselves?
“You really think I’m going to believe that?” Del said. “Everybody cares what happens to them.”
“Sure they do. But at what cost? Everything I believe and am stands against freaks like you. I won’t let you control me again. If I give in to you, you win. But if you hurt me and I don’t give in, then I win. If you kill me, I win. No matter what you try to do to me, so long as I stand against you, you can’t really hurt me.”
“Jilly, no!” I cried. “Look what he did to me. Don’t push him like this.”
But she couldn’t hear me any more than he could. My words rang only in my own ears. I don’t think it would have mattered even if she could have heard me. This was Jilly in full fierce mode.
“Bullshit,” Del said.
Jilly’s gaze was steady, unflinching. “Try me.”
They locked gazes for a long moment until Del shook his head.
“I still don’t buy it,” he said. “But it doesn’t really matter. I don’t need to hurt you to make you do what I say. I can just tear apart your red-haired friend instead.”
“That’s right. And I can’t stop you.”
“But you can, little sister. All you have to do is say the word and I’ll leave her alone. But if you don’t . . . “ He moved a finger across his throat. “Well, then she’s just history.”
Jilly shook her head.
“I’m not responsible for what you do,” she said. “I never have been. Only you are. We all make our own karma.”
“Your friend’s going to be real happy to hear you say that.”
“I doubt anybody could be happy around you.”
“You’ve got that much right, little sister. We may be in your head, but I’m the one in charge here. I’ve always been the one in charge.”
Jilly shook her head again.
“No,” she said slowly. “I don’t think that’s true.”
Del laughed. “Jesus Christ, you just never learn, do you? I guess I’ll just have to—”
He broke off when the sound of a breaking glass came from downstairs.
Del stalked back to the window and looked out. That flicker of fear was back in his eyes when he turned away, gaze on the doorway. A shotgun appeared in his hands.
“That dog’s not going to help you,” he told Jilly.
“What dog?”
“Yeah, right.”
With the shotgun at the ready, he stepped out into the hall. I gave Jilly a last look, then let myself drift down through the floor to see what was going on downstairs.
Honey
The cuts she’d sustained going through the window stung, but they were only superficial. Though they bled, the glass hadn’t severed any major artery. All they did was help her focus her rage on the man tormenting her sister.
Some might question that designation. There was no bond of blood between them. But they were both Children of the Secret, hurr and abused, betrayed by those who should have been protecting them, and that kinship made a bond stronger than the ties of blood. Del was only another version of the Man who’d beat her as a pup. Who’d let her family die
in the ring.
Stay behind me, she told Lizzie as the child clambered in through the window.
Then she padded towards the stairs.
She heard his step on the landing, the creak of the wood under his weight. She was halfway up when he appeared at the head of the stairs, the shotgun in his hand.
The weapon gave her only a moment’s pause.
This world appeared solid and real. It had substance and dimension, smells and weight. It might be inside Jilly’s head, but to all intents and purposes, it was genuine. By that argument, the weapon in his hands was probably real as well. It could fire, the shot coming out of its barrels could tear her apart.
But it didn’t matter.
There came a point when nothing mattered except the ending. This was Del, but it might as well have been the Man, whipping the pup she’d been. Leaving her in the metal cage to nurse her wounds after a turn in the ring, when the fever shook her. Laughing as she chewed at the mesh, trying to get at him. Banging a stick against the crosshatched metal wire to make her retreat.
She was here to bring Jilly back.
But she was also here to put an end to the piece of the Man that lived deep inside her own head, the way that Del lived in Jilly’s. If she died doing it, so be it. She’d die with her jaws on his throat, and not even death would be able to pry them loose. Not magic or power or whatever it was that let Del rule in this place.
Because he didn’t rule her.
No one would rule her again.
So as Del tightened his finger on the triggers of the shotgun, she charged up the last few stairs separating them.
The shotgun went off with a roar that sounded like the world ending.
Grey
The woman who opens the door to Raven’s house looks from me to Odawa. She knows my grey jay blood the same way I know hers is raven—for cousins, it’s as quick and familiar a form of recognition as looking at somebody’s face. She also knows Odawa belongs to the salmon clan, but I don’t think that’s what makes her frown before her gaze returns to me. At least it’s not the only thing.