Drinking Midnight Wine (34 page)

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Authors: Simon R. Green

BOOK: Drinking Midnight Wine
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“What part of
immortal godling
didn’t you understand, little human?” said Jimmy, cracking his huge knuckles loudly. “You don’t talk like that in my presence. I think you need a lesson in manners, tiny mortal.”
I think I need a Magnum .45 and a good running start,
Toby thought, just a little desperately.
Maybe if I hit him hard enough with my face I’ll damage his hand. What the hell was I thinking of, challenging Godzilla in biker leathers? So; apologize loudly, kiss his leather-clad arse, and maybe later I can sneak up behind him with something large and heavy and preferably pointed . . . oh, shit, this is going to hurt.
Jimmy loomed over Toby, grabbed a handful of his shirt, and lifted him easily off the ground. Toby’s heels kicked a good two feet above the floor, as the thunder godling glared right into his face. Toby opened his mouth to apologize, and then thought,
Hell with that,
and spat into Jimmy’s right eye. The godling roared deafeningly with rage and drew back an enormous fist, and then Gayle was suddenly there, hauling on Jimmy’s arm with both hands and yelling at him to put Toby down.
“Do it right now, Jimmy Thunder! Do you hear me? Put him down or I’ll never speak to you again!”
Jimmy growled deep in his chest, glared at Gayle, and then opened his hand and let Toby drop to the floor. He fell hard again, but was so relieved he was still in one piece he didn’t care. Gayle crouched down beside him and helped him sit up. Jimmy glared at both of them.
“Mortals should know their place.”
“Don’t you judge him, Jimmy Thunder, don’t you
dare
. He’s been through things for me, suffered things for me that even you would balk at. He’s one of the bravest souls I’ve ever met. Even if he does have a tendency to speak before engaging his brain. Are you hurt, Toby?”
“Don’t worry, I’m getting used to it.” Toby rose slowly to his feet, leaning on Gayle a little more than was strictly necessary. “Good thing you intervened. I was just getting ready to kick his arse.”
“Of course you were, Toby. Now come and sit down before you fall down.”
Toby winced. “I think I’d rather stand for a while.”
“Ah,” said Gayle. “Did you hurt your—?”
“Yes, I did, and I don’t want to talk about it, thank you.”
Gayle smiled suddenly. “I could always kiss it better.”
Toby managed a small smile, too. “Maybe later. I don’t think I’d appreciate it right now.”
“I think I’m about to be sick,” said Jimmy.
Gayle gave him a hard look. “I don’t want any more trouble between you and Toby, do you hear me, Jimmy? We’re going to need Toby’s brains, and his outsider’s viewpoint, to get us through this. I think that’s why he was chosen to be the focal point. And I can’t pretend I’m in charge anymore. I’ve been away too long.”
Jimmy shrugged and sat down on his bench again. His anger had subsided as quickly as it had been aroused, and he was all business again. “Whatever you say, Gayle. He’s your pet.”
Gayle turned her back on him and persuaded Toby to come and sit, gingerly, on his bench again. This time she sat down beside him. He tried not to read too much into that. He couldn’t help reflecting on how easy she’d seemed in Jimmy’s company, as opposed to his. Not really too surprising, considering Thunder was an immortal, too. How long had they been an item, and how long ago? How could a mere man hope to compete with a godling? He realized Jimmy and Gayle were talking again, about how best to take on Nicholas Hob, and he made himself pay attention.
“I could always smash my way into Blackacre and go berserk on him,” said Jimmy. “One of the more useful parts of my godly heritage. There’s not a lot can stop me or stand against me when I’m berserking.”
“Not much except Hob,” said Gayle. “And let’s not forget Angel. Even if you could get through all the defenses Hob’s bound to have strung up all around Blackacre, Angel would probably stop you right in your tracks, rip off your arm and beat your head in with the soggy end. Berserking’s overrated. Your ancestor Thor was always going berserk with any problem that required too much thinking; it was one of the reasons he and I never got along. Though his mother was always matchmaking . . .” She noticed the look on Toby’s face and smiled. “Don’t let it throw you, Toby. I’ve been around a long time and met a lot of famous people, but very few of them were worthy of their legend. I’ve noticed you becoming increasingly less impressed or intimidated by the various supernatural personages we’ve encountered, and that’s a good thing. Where a lot of humans would have frozen, or run away screaming, you’ve stood your ground and outthought or outmaneuvered most of them. And when you couldn’t, you endured trials for my sake that would have broken most, lesser people. I’m impressed, Toby. Really.
“Of course, one of the reasons why you were able to outthink a lot of those personages was because most magical beings aren’t too tightly wrapped. That’s what comes of having to believe ten impossible things before breakfast, just so you can get on with your neighbors. In Mysterie they’re all bound by their roles and natures, which seriously limit their thinking. Being human and mortal, you aren’t. You’re free to be greater than you think you are. That’s what makes you so important. Your unclouded mind is a weapon we can use against Hob and The Serpent In The Sun, and bring them down.”
Toby got angry all over again. “You were doing really well there, Gayle, and then you had to blow it. I really was starting to think that you cared about me, about what you’d put me through, but in the end it came back to making use of me. That’s all I am to you, a weapon. An expendable weapon, that you can throw against your enemies. Well I have had it up to here with being useful to you, being your weapon, your pet. I don’t care anymore. Not about Hob, or this town, or you. I am out of here.”
He started to lurch back onto his feet, but Gayle grabbed him by the arm and made him sit down again. Either she was stronger than she looked, or he was even weaker than he felt. Either way, he wouldn’t struggle against her. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. He stared straight ahead, not looking at Jimmy, or at Gayle as she talked.
“You’re right, Toby. You have every reason to be angry with me. I have used and misused you. And I am sorry you have suffered so very much, for me. But you must stay.”
“Why?” said Toby, still refusing to look at her.
“Because you’re a focal point,” said Gayle, “and the town needs you. And because I need you.”
Toby turned his head to look at her. “Keep talking. I’ll listen. But if you say the wrong thing again, I will leave, and you’ll never see me again.”
Gayle sighed. There was just a hint of tears in her eyes, though her gaze was steady and her mouth and her voice were both firm. “You only know the human side of me, Toby Dexter, and that’s really such a very small part of who and what I really am. All the centuries I’ve invested in being human are only a moment in the long span of my existence. If I am forced to take on my aspect, there is a very real chance that the whole of me would sacrifice you, without hesitating, for the greater good, to save the town and the worlds. That’s why I can’t afford to care for you, to let you matter to me. I mustn’t love you, Toby. Because it would hurt me so much to lose you.”
“Too late,” said Toby softly. “Too late . . .”
Their faces were very close now, feeling each other’s breath on their lips and in their mouths as they stared into each other’s eyes, saying more in that lengthening moment, in that silent communication, than they could ever bring themselves to put into words. Off to one side, entirely forgotten, Jimmy Thunder was shaking his head resignedly. The mirror on the wall was quietly singing the theme from
Love Story
.
“What am I going to do with you?” said Toby, after a while.
“We’ll think of something,” Gayle murmured, “later.”
“If there is a later,” said Toby, pulling back a bit. He looked away and his breathing began to return to normal. “Something has occurred to me.”
“Really?” said Gayle. She was smiling when Toby looked back at her.
“About our current problem,” said Toby, frowning to show he was being serious again. “Given that Hob and Angel, and possibly the Serpent, are such a clear and present danger, why don’t we put out a general alarm and raise the whole town against them? Get together all the most powerful people, form our own army and take Blackacre by force? Surely if we all worked together ...”
He trailed off. Gayle and Jimmy were both shaking their heads. “Never happen,” Jimmy said bluntly. “First, because most of the people here wouldn’t want to get involved. Too afraid of backing the wrong side. And second, those whose natures might impel them to get involved are already too busy. Someone, whose name probably begins with an H, has persuaded all the main villains in the town to run wild simultaneously, so that all the heroes who might have helped us have their hands full trying to contain the villains. Right now there’s blood in the town’s streets and a fair amount of structural damage, and the fighting’s still going on.”
“In other words, Hob has removed all the major players, good and bad, from the equation,” said Gayle. “I should have known. He wants this to be his story, and his alone. We’re on our own.”
“There’s always the Mice,” said Toby.
Jimmy sniffed dismissively. Gayle raised an eyebrow. “I think we’re a bit past the need for spies.”
“I have something else in mind for the Mice,” said Toby, smiling mischievously. “I’ve been thinking about how best to take the fight to Hob, and certain strategies have come to mind. Certain . . . off the wall, unprecedented strategies.”
“You’ve got a plan, haven’t you?” said Gayle.
“Maybe.” Toby looked directly at Jimmy Thunder. “Luna said I should ask you for help, that you were a good man at heart. Are you game? Can I count on you?”
“Luna sent you to me?” Jimmy looked honestly surprised. “I didn’t think she even knew I existed. I never met her, even when Gayle and I were an item. Never wanted to, to be honest. No offense, Gayle, but just her reputation scared the crap out of me.”
“Very wise of you,” said Gayle. “She worries me, and I’m her sister.”
“To get back to the subject,” Toby said firmly. “There are a few things I still need to get straight, if I’m going to make this work. Starting very definitely with what it actually
means
to be a focal point. Do I have any powers? Any magic of my own?”
Jimmy and Gayle looked at each other, their expressions unreadable to Toby. “Well, yes and no,” Gayle said carefully. “You’re not powerful in and of yourself, but you have been made significant. At the most important point, whatever that turns out to be, you will be placed in a position where you will have to make a decision, and whatever you decide at that moment will shape and determine the outcome of this present struggle. I can’t say what that might involve. No one can, until the time comes.”
“But . . . why? What’s the point of a focal point?”
“People have been asking that question, in increasingly aggrieved tones, for a hell of a long time,” said Jimmy. “It’s one of the great mysteries of Mysterie. There are a lot of answers, depending on who you talk to, and how drunk they are, few of them particularly helpful or satisfying. The best bet seems to be that God, or somebody fairly high up in the celestial chain of command, has got a really twisted sense of humor. I know which way I’d bet.”
“All right,” said Toby, pressing on determinedly, “I’m not sure I’m any wiser than I was before, but then, that’s Mysterie for you. Next big question. I need to know exactly who and what you are, Gayle. All I’ve got from you so far is a whole bunch of hints and allusions. Why does it have to be such a big secret? Why can’t you just come out and say it, whatever it is? What could be so shocking that you don’t think I could handle it, after all I’ve seen and been through today? Everyone else seems to know.”
“Everyone else does know, in Mysterie,” Gayle said slowly. “There’s a reason why I haven’t told you, Toby, or let anyone else tell you, and it’s not a very nice reason. I don’t want you to know, because once you do, you . . . you might not love me anymore. And I might need to rely on that love for you to save me, to save us all, when you have to make your fateful decision.”
And that was when the dead starting appearing out of nowhere, dropping out of the empty air and into the long Norse hall. There were dozens of them, and more appeared every moment, dead men and women raided from the cemeteries of Bradford-on-Avon, sent forth to tear down the living, driven by Hob’s overpowering will. They were in varying stages of preservation and decay, and grave mold spotted their funeral clothes and sunken faces. They smelled of earth and formaldehyde and corruption. They had unkempt hair and long fingernails, grown long in their graves. They moved stiffly, old bones creaking loudly as an awful magic forced motion from shrunken muscles. And all their gray faces had the same malevolent expression, from the single mind that moved them all and saw through those who still had eyes.
Hob had come to the thunder godling’s home, in dozens of dead bodies, the unliving forced into an act of horror against the living by one man’s hateful intent. They lurched down the hall toward their victims, grinning horribly, their hands like claws.

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