Play Dead (25 page)
It might be a ploy, but I didn’t even have to think. Any chance was better than none. I lowered the sword and knelt down next to Lou. He tried to walk to me but his legs wouldn’t work anymore and he toppled over in slow motion. His tongue lolled helplessly as he lifted his head and stuck out one feeble paw in hopeless supplication.
“Goddamn it,” Jessie said, bending down next to me.
She muttered a few words and ran her hands over Lou’s body. His eyes glazed over as he went limp. She’d thrown a stasis spell over him, effectively suspending his entire metabolism as well as the working of the poison, and her spell was a lot better than mine would have been. Mine tends to create a cold, brittle hardness; hers left him warm and still soft.
Naja had backed off a good ways, looking apologetic, if a snake can be capable of showing emotion. My first thought was to get Lou to Campbell; she was probably the only one with the ability to heal such a mortal wound. But Campbell was a thousand miles away, dealing with a sick mother again. I didn’t hold out much hope Jessie could help—black practitioners are not known for their skill and dedication to the healing arts.
“What happened?” I said. “What the hell are you doing here, anyway?”
Jessie sighed. “You didn’t answer any of my messages again, so I left Naja to keep an eye on the place and let me know if you showed up. I guess Lou saw her as a threat, and when he went after her she reacted.”
“By trying to kill him?”
“It’s instinct. She’s an Ifrit, but she’s also a snake. Snakes strike when they feel threatened.”
I knew what she meant; in the same way, Lou’s very much also a dog, but that didn’t excuse what happened.
“We need a healer,” I said. “Do you know anyone good?” Jessie shook her head.
“A healer won’t help, although I’ve got some skill in that area myself. A cobra the size of Naja has enough venom to kill a full-grown man in fifteen minutes. Something the size of Lou? Sixty seconds, at most. I’d guess about half that time elapsed before the stasis spell, so when I bring him out of it, he’ll have only thirty seconds, not nearly enough time to help him.”
I got a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. Jessie was still kneeling next to Lou, now reaching into her purse, searching around until she found what she was looking for, a compact brown leather case. She opened it and took out a syringe and a small vial of clear liquid.
“Antivenin,” she said.
I’d seen that case before. So it wasn’t drugs after all.
“You seem prepared,” I said.
“It’s not the first time something like this has happened. Naja’s not aggressive, but she can be skittish.”
She said this matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She really was a black practitioner.
“Has the antivenin worked?” I asked.
“No one’s died yet.” That was reassuring. “But then, no one as small as Lou has ever been bit before. And I don’t know how an Ifrit will react.” Less reassuring.
She filled the syringe and found a spot on Lou’s foreleg. With the skill of a trained vet, she eased the needle in. She paused just long enough to take off the stasis spell, and as soon as Lou took a long, shuddering breath, she pushed the plunger home. For long seconds, nothing happened; then Lou gave a weak cough and managed to stagger to his feet. Jessie passed her hands over him again, doing something subtle. It must have been some type of healing work, because he took a couple of steps before he sat down again, exhausted. She looked at him closely.
“He’ll be all right, I think,” she said. “He’s amazingly tough, which is no surprise. He’ll need at least a day to recover, though.”
I picked him up and carried him inside, being careful not to cut off his tail with the sword in my other hand. He hates being carried and even struggled feebly, which was a good sign.
Jessie followed me inside, but Naja didn’t. Mistake or not, that would have been a bit much. Lou climbed shakily up on the bed, where he immediately curled up and closed his eyes. Jessie saw my worry.
“He’ll be okay. Honest, I know what I’m talking about.”
I cleared off the uneaten grilled cheese sandwiches and put on some water for tea. My nerves were too shaken for coffee. Jessie wandered around, looking but not touching. At least she had the sense for that.
I handed her a cup of tea without asking and we sat down at the little kitchen table, facing each other. Then I got back up and took the disks out of the bedside table drawer.
“I got Richter’s book back,” I said, handing them to her. “And another disk.”
“How?” she asked.
“Not important. Jackie has a copy, of course.”
“Where is she?”
“That, I don’t know. But she also has volume two now.”
Jessie snorted. “The famous second volume? Sorry; that’s a myth, a holy grail for black practitioners. It doesn’t exist.”
“I’ve seen it.”
“Impossible. Where?”
“Again, irrelevant. But I held it in my hand.”
“Did you look through it?”
“No. There wasn’t time.”
“So you don’t actually know what the book you held was. It could have been a cookbook for all you know.”
“I highly doubt that.”
But I did have a moment’s doubt. She was right; I hadn’t so much as cracked it open for a peek. It might have been anything. Then I remembered where and how it had been hidden. Jessie was silent for a moment.
“If this is true, then things are even worse than I thought,” she said.
“Why? Is this second book all it’s cracked up to be? Would it be that much more dangerous?”
Jessie was staring off into space, her tongue flicking in and out of her mouth in an unconscious imitation of a snake. She did not look happy.
“That would depend,” she said, slowly. “If I had such a book, or Victor, for example, we’d instantly become the most powerful practitioners on the planet. On the other hand, if someone less experienced got hold of it, it could spell disaster.”
“Disaster for who?”
“Anyone who had hold of it.”
“Like Jackie?”
“Or you.” She smiled to let me know she was joking, but of course she wasn’t. “But also, disaster for everyone else. Any object of great power is always dangerous; that’s inherent in the very nature of power. And unintended consequences can be dreadful, as I’m sure you know. Remember what I said about thin places. Imagine what would happen if those places ruptured completely.”
“Okay,” I said. “Not a good thing. I understand. At least you have your own book back, sort of.”
“I need Jackie back as well. She doesn’t know what she’s playing with.”
“And the second book?”
“Screw the book. It’s Jackie who’s become the danger. You seem to be doing a good job of locating her, but not such a good one at holding on to her once you have.”
“I’m not much of one for kidnapping,” I said. “Even if it’s a family affair.”
Jessie looked at me sourly. “I was wondering when you’d find that out.”
“I’m smarter than I look.” She didn’t make the obvious comeback, being in no mood for banter. “Why keep it a secret, though?” I said.
“It was irrelevant.” She stared down at the floor, showing some embarrassment for the first time since I’d met her. “Besides, it’s no one’s business. How would it look? I run a corporation, I run much of the black practitioner community, but I can’t even control my own daughter?”
I shrugged. “Whatever. But I’m still not comfortable simply handing her over to you, just on your say-so.”
“You don’t have to hand her over,” she said. “Just let me know where she is; that’s all.” She looked at me shrewdly, then turned her head to stare at Lou, who was out like a light. “I know you have reservations. Who wants to rat someone out and turn her over to an angry black practitioner, no matter what she may have done? But it’s for her own good, believe me. And ours. Can I count on you, Mason?”
“Sure,” I said. “I can always be counted on to do the right thing.”
She didn’t like that answer, but then again, if she didn’t, she shouldn’t have asked that question.
“You know,” she said, “maybe you’re not the best person for this job after all. You don’t seem to work that well with other people.”
“I work very well with people. I don’t always work well
for
people.”
for
people.”
“That’s a shame; you have potential.” I’d heard that before.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m like Popeye the Sailor Man.” She looked at me blankly, not getting the reference at all. “Never mind.” She shrugged and opened the front door to leave, then stopped.
“I hope Lou will be all right,” she said. “I’m really sorry about that.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
After Jessie left, I was ticked off. It was weird—I wasn’t even working for her; I was spying on her. But I still was annoyed at her criticism. It was like finally deciding to ask out a woman you weren’t even sure you were that interested in and having her turn you down. Or auditioning for a band, realizing they sucked and you didn’t really want to play with them anyway, only to have them choose someone else.
I checked on Lou, who was sleeping deeply, though every once in a while he’d twitch and moan in his sleep. Morning had to bring a better day. It could hardly bring a worse one.
FOURTEEN
NEXT MORNING LOU WAS BETTER, BUT STILL NOT his old self. I had expected him to bounce right back; he’s done that so many times that I unconsciously think of him as being invulnerable, which he’s not. In fact, it’s a miracle he’s still alive, considering some of the fixes I’ve gotten us into. So when Campbell called, it was like a gift from the gods.
“I’m back,” she said. “Did you miss me?”
“More than you know,” I said. “Lou’s hurt. He’s okay, sort of, but he’s not really right.”
“What happened?”
“He was bitten by a cobra.” There was a moment’s silence.
“What?”
That one word accused me of all kinds of things. Or maybe I was projecting; most of Lou’s injuries have been due to me when you get right down to it.
“A cobra,” I repeated. “He got some antivenin, but he’s not doing so well.”
“I’ll be right down.”
“No, I’ll come up there. He’s well enough to travel.” Campbell’s healing powers are strongest on her own home turf.
“Okay,” she said, “but you’ll have to stop by Mama Yara’s botanica and pick up something there.”
“Will she sell to me?” The only time I’d been there, Mama Yara had treated me with great suspicion, like a dope dealer faced with a suspected undercover narc.
“She will if you tell her it’s for me. Have her call me if there’s a problem. I need something called Devil’s Tongue, and if she doesn’t have any of that, some Madras Thorn. A couple of ounces of either.”
After I hung up I sat down on the bed next to Lou. He looked up without much interest.
“Campbell’s back,” I said, with false heartiness. “We’re going to visit her. Pancakes!”
Lou’s favorite food in the world is bacon, but Campbell’s pancakes run a close second. Besides, he really likes her. Usually he’d be jumping in the air with excitement, but all I got now was a polite half wag of the tail.
“Come on,” I said. “You can sleep on the way up there.”
We stopped on the way at the botanica over on Church Street. Lou showed no inclination to leave the van, so I left him to sleep. The botanica display windows hadn’t changed a bit, except for being dustier, perhaps. The same odd mixture of Miracle candles, religious icons, dolls, and African art sat in their usual places. The pale blue floor, covered with astrological signs, was still faded and patchy and hadn’t been swept in a while.
Not a customer in sight. The tinkling of the doorbell brought Mama Yara out of the back room, and when she saw who it was she stopped short. She was wearing the same baseball cap she’d had on the last time I was there, and I still couldn’t begin to guess her race or age.
“I’m Mason,” I said. “A friend of Campbell’s?”
“I remember you,” she said. She gave no indication if that was a good thing or not.
“I need something. It’s for Campbell.” She waited silently, not helping. “Something called Devil’s Tongue?”
“I have none,” she said.
“What about Madras Thorn?”
“Snakebite?” she asked, showing some interest for the first time. I nodded.
“My dog, Lou.”
She gave a slight smile. “Ah, I see. Your
dog
.”
dog
.”
I didn’t know quite what to make of her, but I knew Campbell held her in high esteem. She adjusted her cap and walked toward the back room she’d just come out of.
“I might have some Madras Thorn,” she said, stopping in the doorway. “How much?”
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