Bad Dreams & Broken Hearts 12: “What sort of thing can kill you?”

“Okay,” I said, “can you tell me about this dream you had?”

Karin looked down at her hands. “I was just drifting off to sleep and I was thinking about what I had to do in the morning.” A look up at Marji. “We were going to do that luncheon at the wax museum, remember?”

Maji nodded. Karin looked back down, concentrating on remembering. “I was thinking about what I was going to wear. I wanted to wear that new black dress, but I don't have any flats that go with it, and the stairs in that place are such a pain in heels. So I was wondering if we'd have time to look for new shoes. And all of a sudden I looked up, and there was Grandmother Wolf.”

Karin reached out a hand and Marji put her glass in it. Karin had a big slug. Then she went on. “It's funny, but I wasn't scared, I mean, not about her suddenly appearing in my loft.”

A bitter laugh. “I wanted to tell her to get out of my house before you came to pick me up in the morning and I didn't want you to see her. I tried to tell her to go away and she said that she would leave as soon as I feel asleep. But I knew she was lying because I was already asleep. And then I thought, Oh, that's right—this is just a dream and she's not really here.”

She fell silent. Marji reached to touch her shoulder. “Is that all you remember?”

“No,” Karin's voice was soft, almost a whisper. “She ate my name.”

Jake leaned forward. “What?”

“It's part of an oath of fealty,” I explained. “Which means that the Magus must have transferred his interest in Karin to Grandmother Wolf.” I considered. “But then, after you were in Nivose the Grimm had to have taken it from her. I wonder why.”

“After the wolf... ate your name,” Marji prompted. “What happened next?”

“Nothing,” Karin said softly. “She told me to sleep, and I did. Except... I wanted to get word to you. I remember thinking that Marji and Jake could help me, if only I could tell them. And I tried—”

She stopped and pulled up her skirt suddenly and looked at the inside of her thigh. “And I did. My sprite!”

The skin of her leg looked smooth and unmarred to me—and then I got it. “You had a skin sprite,” I said. “Of course. That's what's in the picture.”

Marji was staring at Karin's leg. “Your tattoo is gone,” she said, shocked.

Jake was looking to me. “What's in the picture?”

“A skin sprite,” I said. “It's a minor spirit creature, bound into a tattoo on a mage's body. Have you got that picture of Blindworm Forest you showed me?”

“No, I didn't bring that to Nivose,” Jake said.

“I've got it,” Marji said. She reached into her bag and rummage for a moment before coming up with the scroll. “Here.”

Karin took the picture and unrolled it. The little figure of her was now in the middle of the picture and facing us. She was smiling.

Karin chuckled and reached to touch the inked figure. “You want to come back home?” she asked, in the tone of voice you use to coax a kitten out of a tree. In a moment the figure moved like an animated cartoon and flowed from the paper onto her hand, then rippled across her skin, becoming a complex pattern of intersecting knots. It slid up her arm and vanished under her dress. I few seconds later I saw it emerge from her hem and flow her leg to stop on her thigh. Karin smoothed her dress back down, hiding the tattoo from sight.

“That's how you found me, isn't it?” Karin asked. “I always knew that would come in handy.”

Both Jake and Marji were staring, looking dumbstruck, but I suspect it was for different reasons.

Karin looked to Jake first. “You gonna turn me in now?”

Marji answered quickly, “Of course we won't. It's just a little surprising to see you doing magic. We're not used to it.”

“Technically,” I said, “you didn't see her doing magic.”

Everybody turned to look at me.

“Binding a skin sprite is a magical act,” I explained. “Commanding one that is already bound is just using an artifact—it's like driving a car. Sure, creating 'lix requires magic, but the driver isn't casting a spell to use it.”

Jake seemed relieved by my words. I knew what he was thinking—failure to report outlaw magic could cost him his license. But as long as he didn't see her in the act of casting a spell, he had a loophole. It was a thin loophole, but a good lawyer could use it.

Karin nodded slowly, getting the picture. “That's right,” she said. “Nobody saw anybody doing any magic.”

Karin sighed and then continued her story. “I worked for the Magus for about two years. Then the witchfinders got Mr. Vetch. I kept waiting for them to show up and take me away, too, but they never did. He didn't roll over on me. I heard he got five years.”

Jake looked thoughtful. “How long ago was that? Would he be out now?”

Karin nodded. “He should be, yeah. I didn't keep track of him.”

“Maybe he kept track of you,” Jake suggested. “Maybe he's settling old scores.”

I considered that. “Karin didn't swear the oath to him,” I pointed out. “But I think he's worth talking to.” I gave Marji a glance. “Could you locate this Leonid Vetch, do you suppose?”

Marji nodded. “He'd be in the offender registry. I know someone who could check that.”

“Did Mr. Vetch know the Magus' real identity?” Jake asked.

Karin took a long time before replying. “Yeah,” she said at last. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure he did.”

“Then we'll go talk to Mr. Vetch,” I said. “And see what he has to say.”

“He's got pull,” Jake said slowly, “this Magus of yours.”

Karin looked surprised.

“Hooks in Government House,” Marji explained. “There was some resistance in pursuing your case through channels. That's why we brought Sam in.”

Karin was frowning. “Pull in Government House? Are you sure?”

“High enough to influence the Deputy Minister of Energy,” Jake said.

Karin stared down at the desk in front of her. “I'm so sorry I got you mixed up in this,” she said in a small voice. “I thought it was all over.”

“Don't worry,” Marji said firmly. “It will be. We'll figure this out and put an end to it.”

I thought it over. “Let's assume that your Magus went straight after Vetch got arrested. He took his money and got out. He never got arrested, so there's no reason he couldn't get work at Government House. But why would he suddenly get spooked now? It's been years.”

“He saw your art,” Jake said suddenly, looking at Karin. “He saw your art and recognized your style.”

Karin looked dismayed.

Marji brightened. “Oh, course. Now we just need to figure out who at Government House has seen your work.”

Jake snorted.“Easier to figure out who hasn't. You've been promoting Karin's art to everyone you meet.”

Marji frowned over at Jake. “This is not my fault—”

I interrupted before it could go any farther. “We've got a solid lead with Leonid Vetch. Marji, you can followup with your contacts, get us an address tomorrow. Until then... your place should be safe. I assume it's not a problem for Karin to stay with you?”

Marji and Jake exchanged a look.

“We can put her up,” Jake agreed.

Marji nodded, then turned to me. “Can you come, too? And... keep watch through the night?”

“Sure,” I told her. I didn't think it was necessary, but if it made them feel better I could stay with them.

Jake stood. “Okay, we'll take my car and leave yours here tonight. I'll take the train in tomorrow and drive yours home.”

“And can we stop by my place on the way?” I asked.

“Your place isn't on the way,” Jake objected. “What do you need from there?”

“Some clothes,” I said. “I mean, look at me.”

Jake frowned. “I can draw you a coverall from stores. And you can shower in the locker room.”

I could also shower at home, and wear my own clothes, but it was clear he wasn't in a mood to be reasonable. “Okay,” I sighed.

Once we were in the elevator I said softly, “Do you realize what you've done?”

He glared at me. “Yes, I know what I've done.”

“I don't think you do,” I countered. “You killed a moraue. Inside the citadel of the Grimm.”

“Yeah,” he growled back at me, “I was there when it happened, remember?”

“Were you?” I asked. “Because the Jake I thought I knew wouldn't do something so stupid.”

“What do you want me to say?” Jake said. “I'm sorry I got you into that. I didn't expect it to turn violent.”

“You were the one who started it,” I pointed out, “when you shot that moreau.”

“I'm sorry,” Jake said again. “I lost control. I shouldn't have.”

We got off the elevator and started down the hall.

“You do know that you were set up, right?” I asked.

Jake looked at the floor. “Yeah. Obviously.”

“Look at me,” I said.

Jake sighed and raised his head. “Look, Sam, about what that thing said—”

I cut him off. “I don't give a shit about what it said. Okay? Were you paying attention when I told you that Nightmare is dangerous? What did you think I meant by that? Grandmother Wolf had that whole scene mapped out in advance and you walked in there and played exactly the part that she wanted you to play. Do you understand that?”

“I was handling myself pretty well, I thought,” Jake said angrily.

“No,” I said. “You weren't. You killed a moraue. You owe a blood debt to the Grimm now. Do you have any idea what that means?”

We left the building and started across a different parking lot, mostly empty.

“He'll have me arrested?” Jake asked bitterly.

I sighed. “If only...” I tried to find the words to make him understand. “The law of Nightmare is a life for a life. Yours was forfeited the moment you pulled that trigger. At this moment you are a walking dead man.”

Jake gave me a curious look. “I don't feel very dead.”

“No. And you know why?” I continued. “Because the Grimm thinks he'll have a use for you. Some day he's going to offer to lift the blood debt in exchange for a service rendered. When that happens you'll have a choice—either do exactly what he says, or you drop dead on the spot.”

Jake walked a little faster. “I'll deal with that when the time comes.”

“You better be thinking about it now,” I warned, keeping pace with him. “Whatever he asks of you, I can guarantee one thing—it will be something that you don't want to do. Probably dangerous, almost certainly illegal, and definitely against your principles. That's how Nightmare works. That's what the Grimm does—he breaks people. He'll break you just because he can. All because you lost your temper.”

We walked in silence for a while, moving towards a door labeled “Maintenance And Support Services”.

Then, as he unlocked it, he repeated, “I'll deal with it when the time comes.”

We went inside and he showed me the shower room in an uncomfortable silence.

It turned out that the only soap available was a gritty white powder that reeked of borax. I had to admit that it was good for getting dried blood off my skin, but it left me smelling like a chemistry set and there was no way I was going to put it in my hair.

While I was showering in the echoing tile room Jake left me a couple of fresh towels and a quilted red jumpsuit with “FIRE RESPONSE” across the back in big black letters. After I was dried and dressed I went and found in the hall outside the shower room.

He was holding the cane I'd used in my fight with the tigress. “I put your old clothes in the incinerator, but I figured you might want to hold onto this,” he said holding it out to me.

I took it. It was a nice walking stick. Not morauxe make, I realized. It looked like something that had come out of a high end shop in the City. It was even had a monogram etched into the brass ball on the top. “CT”. Interesting.

We walked back out of the building. I was trying to think of something to break the silence, but Jake beat me to it.

“Why aren't you dead?” he asked suddenly.

“Excuse me?” The question took me off guard.

“There was a lot of blood on those clothes, and I saw the tiger's body—she wasn't bleeding,” Jake said. “That was your blood.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, “She tagged me pretty good. Of course, she had two knives and I only had one stick.”

“So why aren't you dead?” he repeated.

“Because that sort of thing can't kill me,” I said sharply.

“What sort of thing can kill you?” Jake asked, his voice mild.

Really, that was a bit much.

“Not that gun in your pocket, I'll tell you that much,” I snapped.

Jake seemed to finally realize that he was out of line. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I'm not asking because I want to kill you. I'm just... curious. Oneiori aren't ordinarily any more resistant to damage than humans.”

We were crossing the parking lot back to the administration building. There was no one around. “Honestly,” I said softly, “I don't know what would kill me. I know that I've healed from everything that has happened to me so far. But, you know, it still hurts. I just... get over it. Really, really fast.”

“Your parents are immortals,” he mused.

I nodded. “Yeah. And I don't think I'm aging anymore either. I'm thirty-one and I look just like I did when I turned twenty.”

Jake shot me a glance as he unlocked the door. “I didn't think you were that old.”

I sighed. “I've got a feeling that I'll be hearing that a lot over the next thousand years or so.”

Jake cocked his head and looked at me sideways, then decided I was joking and laughed. I hadn't been, but I laughed anyway. It was a tension laugh.

“Good thing I don't die easy, huh?” I observed as we went down the hall to the elevator.

He laughed at that, too, then sobered quickly. “Sam, I know I'm out of my depth. I need you—we need you. Marji and I, and Karin. I have no right to ask—”

“Nor any need,” I interrupted.

He looked confused for a moment, opened his mouth, and I cut him off again.

“Listen to me for a moment. You and Marji mean something to me. Let's not even talk about sex, okay? That's a big, messy subject and not really relevant. We've shared meals. I have slept under your roof. We are...” I struggled to put the concept into words that he could understand, “...members of the same household. Family. I don't know Karin, but she is part of your household, and that makes her part of mine.”

I looked to him, and he nodded gravely. I went on. “This Grandmother Wolf and this Magus, they have brought blood and pain into my household. They have raised their hands against the House Of The Empty Tomb and the heir of Messidor. I cannot permit that to stand. This is about more than you and Marji and Marji's girl now. This is about the honor of Knight of Hell. This is vendetta. Vendetta is an old and revered tradition in Nightmare.”

We had reached the elevator and I raised my hand to block him before he pressed the button. “I will see this through,” I assured him. “I didn't start this. I didn't want it. All I wanted to do was to be left alone to make music and watch the river flow on to the sea. But what I want doesn't matter anymore. I have a duty to the honor of my father and my father's kingdom. I cannot permit my household to be attacked without responding in kind, with blood and pain.”

I pushed the button for the elevator and it the doors opened. “We'll speak no more of it.”

“All right, then,” Jake said. “Let's get the girls home safe.”

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I wonder whether anyone has ever written an exposition about honour. It is something admirable and yet it can appear in the oddest corners (an example would be, honour among thieves). It can motivate so that we become more than we thought we can be and it can also be used to justify harming others.

It is nice living in a universe which is not just black and white, but sometimes there are too many shades of grey.

I am really enjoying your comments.

Thanks. I'm glad, I hate being boring.
:)

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