Wild Ride (50 page)

He stopped, staring at her eyes.

“Frustro!”
she said as the red mist took her,
“Specto, capio—”

He fought her, but she pulled him in and then fell to her knees as all that red murderous, vicious inhuman hate wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She felt Oliver's hands support her, heard Cindy scream,
“Redimio!”
but Kharos hung on, squeezing harder, his laughter in her head, everything falling away, her last thought,
At least Oliver knows CPR
—

And then Ethan was there, whispering, “Capio,” in her ear, and she felt Kharos leave her, sucked out of her as Oliver caught her, and her heart loosened and beat again as Cindy snarled, “Redimio, goddamn it, you get
out
of them,” and held out the chalice, and Ethan arched up as Kharos rushed out of him and into the box, and Weaver slapped the lid on, and said, “Servo, you
fucking
son of a bitch.”

Mab slumped in Oliver's arms, exhausted but triumphant. “You were right, we won,” she said, looking up at him, but he was staring across the pool.

“Not yet,” he said.

“
THAT WAS VERY WRONG OF YOU
,” Vanth said, and Mab looked at her and saw the warrior madonna inside the pretty blue huntress, the madonna that had disintegrated Ray. “
GIVE ME THAT CHALICE
,” Vanth snarled, and raised her arms again.

“Ah, hell,” Ethan said, as the wind began to blow inside the Keep.

 

E
than knew he couldn't take Vanth. Her fury made Kharos's look like a tantrum.

“
YOU TOOK MY MAN
,” she said, gliding toward Ethan, her eyes glowing with blue rage as the wind began to pull hard on him. “
YOU GIVE HIM BACK
.”

Weaver stepped in front of him, her demon gun at the ready, her hair blowing in Vanth's wind.

“
THAT CANNOT STOP ME,
” Vanth said.

“This guy is
my
man,” Weaver said. “I understand your anger, but you can't have him.”

“Get out of my way,”
Ethan said, trying to move Weaver to one side.

“And he's my brother,” Mab said, moving up beside Weaver. “You know how important family is, Mom. I can't let you hurt him.”

Vanth stopped, still furious but listening, the wind swirling around them but not decapitating anybody yet.

“The problem with Dad,” Mab said, smiling at her as she stepped closer, “is that he wants to kill us. I know that's mythologically not that big a deal, but we're human. You're not supposed to kill your children.”

“
I KNOW,
” Vanth said, sounding almost apologetic. “
BUT YOU HAVE TO LET HIM OUT. HE'S
KHAROS!
”

“Yeah, that's why we had to put him back,” Mab said.

Vanth's face grew dark again, and she raised her arms, and the wind picked up.

“Because if he kills me,” Mab said, “you get no grandchildren.”

Vanth stopped, her arms upraised.

Mab took another step so she could look up into Vanth's face. “The baby's a little girl, Mom. Her name is going to be Delpha Vanth. Isn't that beautiful? We can call her DV—”

“Delpha Vanth?” Vanth said, sounding displeased.

“Or Vanth Delpha,” Mab said hurriedly. “And then we could call her . . .”

Don't say it
, Ethan thought just as Mab realized what the kid's initials would be.

“Vanth,” she finished brightly.

Vanth's face was stony but thoughtful now.

“Little Vanth?” Mab said, trying again.

Vanth shook her head.
“I'M SORRY, DARLING, BUT I NEED YOUR FATHER BACK. I'M SURE ONCE WE EXPLAIN—”

“Mother,” Mab said. “He's going to
kill
me. And Delphie—
Vanth
.”

“NO,”
Vanth said, and raised her arms and the wind began to cut at them.

Weaver fired her D-gun and caught Vanth midtorso, and she screamed and the wind rose higher, painful now as they huddled together. Beemer and Frankie launched themselves from the landing above, only to be caught in the wind and flung against the walls. Young Fred yelled,
“Frustro!”
but his voice was lost in the storm. And Ethan took a step forward, ready to tackle an Untouchable to the ground, pretty sure the consequences of that weren't going to be good, but Mab was there before him, her choppy red hair electric in the storm as she shielded the others from Vanth's wrath.

Oliver said quietly, “Show her the baby,” and Mab hesitated and then raised her arms in a perfect copy of her mother, closed her eyes, and frowned as if concentrating, and in the middle of the maelstrom, in the
space between them, a little green light began to glow, expanding out to make an eye in the storm, floating up and forming the shape of a child with glowing red hair who stood looking up at Vanth, curious and unafraid.

Vanth looked down and froze, staring into the green eyes of her granddaughter.

“He'll kill us,” Mab whispered to her.

Vanth put her hands down, the storm disappeared, the baby vanished, and they were back in the Keep, windblown and exhausted.

“SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL,”
Vanth whispered.

“She's your granddaughter,” Mab said “And if you wait nine months, you can see her again.”

“CAN I HOLD HER?” Vanth said.

“Only if you promise not to let Dad out,” Mab said.

“I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO GO TO HELL,”
Vanth said to her.
“NOBODY SHOULD BE DOWN THERE WITHOUT ME.”

“I know, Mom,” Mab said.

“AND HE DID CHEAT ON ME,”
Vanth said, frowning as she remembered.

“Serves him right to be in that chalice,” Mab said with enthusiasm. “Can't cheat in there.”

Young Fred stepped up behind Vanth, but he didn't say anything, a world of sympathy in his eyes.

“You have to go back in your chalice,” Mab said. “But I promise that if you swear not to let Kharos out, I will release you when the baby's born so you can hold her. I swear on my life, I will do that.”

“Wait a minute,”
Ethan said.

“Stay out of this,” Mab said out of the corner of her mouth, and Weaver nudged him and said, “Shut. Up.”

“IT JUST GETS SO LONELY IN THAT FORTUNE-TELLING MACHINE,”
Vanth said.
“HALF OF THE YEAR, NOBODY EVEN COMES BY.”

“We can move the booth into the Dream Cream,” Mab said.

“Uh,” Cindy said.

“People are in there all year round.
Happy
people,” Mab said. “They'll
love
you.”

“REALLY?”
Vanth said.

Mab nodded. “Really. And they'll put in pennies and want a fortune. You can tell them anything you want.”

Vanth considered it while Mab held her breath.
“ALL RIGHT,”
she said finally.
“I BELIEVE IN YOU.”

Mab blinked back tears. “I believe in you, too, Mom.” She stepped closer to Vanth and put her arms around all that glowing blue, and Vanth's arms went around her, enveloping her.

“This isn't good,” Ethan said, seeing disaster ahead.

“Oh,
shut up
,” Weaver said, and Ethan heard Cindy sniffing behind him.

“You know, we're demon
fighters
,” he said, and Weaver and Cindy both said,
“Shut up, Ethan,”
so he shut up.

Then Mab stepped back and said, “In nine months, I swear,” and Vanth nodded, and then said,
“WAIT!”

“I knew it,” Ethan said, but Vanth walked over to the hell-gate, raised her arms over it, and said, “
TERMINO,
” as she brought her hands together.

The hell-gate closed, shutting off Ursula's faint cries, and the floor was stone again.

Vanth turned back to Mab.
“THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN VERY DANGEROUS FOR THE BABY.”

“Yes, it would,” Mab said, her voice heartfelt.

“ALL RIGHT, THEN,”
Vanth said, sounding resigned.

Young Fred stepped up and looked into Vanth's eyes and said, “Frustro,” very gently, and she looked at him, startled, and then Mab said, “Specto, Mom,” and she sighed, and Ethan said, “Capio,” not exactly sure what was going on, and felt all that blue flow into him, filling him, and then a motherly voice in his head saying, “You drink too much. You should stop before my granddaughter is born, it's a bad example. And take off that stupid vest. You're in Ohio.”

Tura's screaming would be better
, he thought, and then Cindy said, “Redimio, Vanth,” in a very gentle voice, and Vanth flowed into the chalice, and Weaver put the lid on and said, “Servo, Vanth. See you in July.”

“We're not really going to let her out, are we?” Ethan said, and three women turned to him and said,
“Yes, we are.”

“Give it up,” Oliver told him.

“It's that mother-daughter thing,” Young Fred agreed. “Don't mess with it.”

“And now you,” Ethan said, glad to have somebody to fight.

“I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking of,” Young Fred said, backing up a step. “I'm young, I make mistakes, I thought I was helping, but I can learn. And you need me. I'm your Trickster!” He grinned at Ethan crookedly.

“You're Fufluns,” Ethan said. “And your ass is mine.”

“All right,” Fun said. “You're not my type, but I'm open-minded—”

“Wait a minute,” Cindy said, looking at Young Fred for the first time in the light. “My god, you
are
Fufluns.”

“Don't piss Ethan off,” Mab said to Fun. “He's just looking for a reason to put you back in your box—”

“I
have
a reason,” Ethan said. “He's a
demon.
”

Fun stood there smiling at him. “Here's the thing. You need me. I'm your Trickster. Plus, I saved you from Kharos. You owe me.”

Ethan shook his head. “Can't trust you, can't do it. Sorry.” He picked up the empty chalice. “Got to go back in.”

“That could be harder than you think,” Fufluns said, not worried.

Ethan looked at Mab. “Can you take him without a Trickster?”

“Yes,” Mab said. “I'll always know where his spirit is. I love the dumb son of a bitch.”

Ethan looked impatient. “Will you take him?”

Mab nodded and said, “Spec—” and then the sound caught in her throat. She coughed and said, “Spec—” and choked again.

“What's wrong?” Ethan said.

“I
can't
,” Mab said. “The words won't come out.”

“Well, I can,” Ethan said, and went for Fufluns' throat. “Cap—” before he choked, too, his hand stopping millimeters before he touched Fufluns' neck.

“Before you hurt yourselves,” Fufluns said, “may I remind you that Young Fred is Guardia.”

“Young Fred is dead,” Ethan said.

“Well, the part that was really Young Fred is gone,” Fufluns agreed.
“But this body? It's still breathing, and it's still Guardia, and none of you can harm it. So I'm, basically, safe. I'm also your Trickster, which is going to be different, but I can work with that. We did pretty good tonight, I thought.”

“We can't trust you,” Cindy said, coming closer, clearly intrigued.

“Of course not,” Fufluns said. “But you couldn't trust Young Fred, either. We're Tricksters. That's what we do.”

“You're going to have to leave that body sometime,” Ethan said.

“Young Fred is twenty years younger than you are,” Fufluns said. “Want to make bets on which one of us gives up the earthly shell first?” He looked Ethan up and down. “Especially since you look like crap.”

Ethan reached for him again, felt himself blocked, and gave up. “I've had enough,” he said, picking up Vanth's chalice. “We're locking all of these in the armoire and shutting the Keep up tight and getting some sleep. Because it's not Halloween anymore. We won.”

The last things he heard as he headed for the stairs were Fun saying to Mab, “So about us,” and Mab saying, “Not in this lifetime.”

Ethan felt cheered. He might not be able to strangle Fun-the-Guardia, but Mab could still do a nice job of choking him off. And if she didn't, he was pretty sure good old non-Guardia Oliver would kick his ass.

Things were definitely looking up.

 

A
week later, Mab sat on the carousel roof between two clowns and considered her work in the morning sunshine. Much of it was gone.

The Pirate Ship was empty of pirates, currently painted half pirate-black and half ark-red. It looked awful, but by spring it would be a wonderful Noah's Ark, full of color and pattern and life, not just elephants and horses but aardvarks and llamas and dragons, too, wonderful weird animals that Delphie would love. The Tunnel of Love had been denuded of its doves and flowers and sat like a glowering pink lump next to the Worm tracks that were currently Wormless, but she could fix those, too. She envisioned butterflies on the Tunnel along with a lot of green vines. Delphie Vanth would like butterflies. And green. The Mermaid Cruise was dry-docked, its tanks drained so the remains of the demon goo could
be neutralized, and the shooting gallery was empty, its guns pointing at a newly whitewashed blank space that would be filled with demon targets later, reconstructed from the OK Corral shooters who had tried to take out Glenda.

“I'm okay with shooting demons,” Mab had told her.

“Me, too,” Glenda had said, back to her old self again, as Sam and some newly hired college help were getting ready to put up the Demon Shoot sign—
SHOOT A DEMON, SAVE A SOUL
—over the top of the old OK Corral sign.

And at the back of the park, painters in rigging worked their way up the Devil's Drop, painting the five-sided tower blue and attaching big white wood clouds to it, preparing to put up the new sign, this one saying
PARACHUTE PEAK
, no devil anywhere in sight. The skeletons and the ghosts and the giant spiders were gone, and the orange cellophane was finally off the streetlamps, and above all, the Ferris Wheel, the Dragon, the Roundabout, and the carousel she was sitting on top of now were as wonderful as ever, unharmed in the Demon War.