The Saint (38 page)

The Goddess wasn't pleased with half a loaf, but Kris was content for now. Adora wasn't ready to think about children, but she had given herself over to him, and in a different way than he had anticipated—and he had held her life safe for that long instant before he suppressed the death fey impulse to send her soul onward, returned her life to her. And as the current between them sent her life back into her body, that soul surely told her that her faith in him was not misplaced. She could trust him. It was a sign. The pattern of destruction was broken. She could love. Perhaps. Eventually.

And he knew that he could trust himself. The deathbringer had not harmed her when it had the chance, even though he was flooded with killing rage. Gaia had not forsaken him, the promise was kept. With Adora's help, he could now go on. He could go into the goblin lands and not fear that the urge to kill would overwhelm him.

The race was not to the swift but to the sure, and now he had certainty. They would not lose.

Adora toweled herself dry, staring pensively into the dark glass walls of the bathroom. Low down, her abused body still throbbed, as though she had a second heart in her loins. This velvet bruise wasn't painful exactly, and it was subsiding, so she decided that she could—would—ignore its physical reminder of the madness for now.

It was somewhat difficult to ignore in the quiet, though, because her own thoughts were restless, noisy companions now that Kris was gone and they had again found their tongues. Why the hell was she alone, anyway? Kris, the ever-energetic, had put out the fire and then dashed off to do something with Jack.

That was a rhetorical question, right?
Joy asked, speaking for the first time in awhile.

Yes,
Adora replied.

He had taken the time to push a ring onto her finger and bestow a last, knee-weakening kiss on his way out the door. “Is this like an engagement ring or something?” she had asked as she stared at her hand in bemusement.

“Yes, I suppose it is. I'll explain later,” he said happily and then disappeared.

I still say it's a twelve-carat bribe
, Joy grumbled.
But twelve really nice carats.

Bribe or not, Adora liked having it—a gift from Kris. His first one, if she didn't count the coat he'd sent Pennywyse to buy.

“I'm pathetic,” she told her reflection.

Of course you are. But why bring it up now? Is it the ring? Are you actually getting sentimental?

Maybe.

But it wasn't her sudden sappiness that distressed her. Her unease was because she finally understood why it was that hurricane victims would choose to move right back onto their soggy beachfront property the minute the deadly water and wind receded, or why people rebuilt in the same place after a forest fire or earthquake took their homes. It wasn't that they were stupid—just possessed by the illogical conviction that such a thing couldn't possibly happen again. Sure, tsunamis happened now and again—but not to them. They had paid the price already. Earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, those were for other people. Sure, maybe God had blown down the trailer park three times, or wiped out Pompeii or Krakatau—but never again. A just God would never let it happen in the same place a half dozen times.

Are you saying that sex with Kris is a natural disaster?
Joy asked.
Because from where I was sitting—

Shut up.

Well, are you saying that?

N-no. Of course I'm not saying it was a disaster. But he
is
something of a force of nature. And dangerous. I felt it, you know, that moment while he wrestled with whether to give my soul back or to send it onward. What if sex is always like that? What happens if some day he isn't paying close enough attention, he starts thinking about baseball or something and I end up dead?

Good questions, but I notice that you aren't packing up and leaving him. He stopped your heart and you set the bed afire, but you're still here and so is he. At least, I assume he's still here.

I know. And it's crazy, but . . .

Let me guess—you're sure that it'll never happen again. Your trailer park is safe.

Adora didn't answer as she tossed the towel aside. She wasn't sure of anything just then, except that once again she wanted to go for a walk.

Oh, geez. Have you forgotten your last walk already?

A short walk. In the mound,
Adora promised. She had to get out. The room was too full of Kris and she was feeling overwhelmed. Speaking of love—even to herself—had opened something inside of her. And every scary memory she had held at bay for the last two decades was catching up, overshadowing her, and she needed space to wrestle with them.

What's that?
Joy asked, distracting her.

Adora walked to the bed and reached for the dress laid out there. It was arranged like a fainting lady, its skirts draped over the edge of the mattress in a long, graceful fall. She held up the bright green garment with the rolled velvet, and tried to find a bit of glassy wall that wasn't obscured by books. The shade was as subtle as neon and the style a bit grand for daywear. But it was very pretty, she admitted, even if it wasn't exactly what she was used to. And it went with her ring.

You're hopeless,
Joy said.

“So, what will you do to the goblins? Will you let us kill the goblin king who poisoned you? And what of this attack on Adora?” Thomas asked. “Something must be done. This was too bold.”

“Anaximander already took care of my poisoner when he wiped out all the males in his family, and his assassin Raxin is as dead as Abrial can make him. Instead I shall let you do something far worse than kill them,” Kris answered happily, making Thomas look suddenly uneasy. “We shall make the goblin children love me—or rather, Santa Claus. I will begin the campaign by bringing them presents this Christmas Eve when I visit the humans. We start making plans at once. I know Pennywyse will probably give birth to imps when he hears about it, but he'll rally. And this year, it will only be in the United States.”

Jack gave a low whistle.

“You don't believe in starting small, do you?” Abrial asked. He once again looked normal, and no trace of his former deadly incarnation could be seen. He was, however, careful to keep his distance from Kris. “I've got to admire you, though. It's the last thing the goblins will ever expect.”

“It will make an excellent diversion too.” Kris leaned back and steepled his fingers.

“Diversion?” Abrial asked. Now he looked uneasy.

“Yes. I plan on getting Molybdenum's people out of prison. It's partially my fault that they're imprisoned.”

This time, Abrial whistled. “A jailbreak? From the heart of the L.A. hive? I'd pay cash money to see that.”

“You wish to help, Abrial? Then mark your calendar and prepare to travel. I am going to need help this year—from all of you, since you know the Unseelie roads here better than I. And I will let you guess where your delivery duty will take you first.” Kris smiled at Abrial's look of dismay. “I know, Abrial. But L.A. goblins have children too. And you wouldn't have any luck controlling the reindeer. Besides, you'd scare any human children who might be peeking out their windows. We have to shift their perception of Santa Claus by slow degrees. No offense, but the black bat wings might be a bit too much.”

The nightdemon shook his head. A moment later he said, “Not to change the subject, but does Adora realize how much time has passed in the outside world? She was joyriding on those fairy roads for quite a while. Even for us . . .”

“No. I doubt she does. I'll put it on the list of things I still need to explain.”

“I'd pay to see that list too,” Abrial replied. “I guess it will be easier now that you two have joined. She should be more accepting.”

Kris looked surprised. “You know we've joined?”

“Of course. We had half a dozen fires blaze up in the mound.”

“Oh. Sorry. We'll work on that.”

Abrial grinned. “That's okay, the sudden rainstorms put them out.”

“
Enough,
” Jack spoke up. “And don't be teasing Adora about the fires, either. She's still very skittish.”

“Okay. But you'll have to do something about Roman. He never has been able to resist a good joke.”

“What can one do about Roman?” Thomas asked.

Kris caused sudden silence to fall by asking, “You all know why we must do this, right? We are agreed? You all know that even if we retreat inside the mound and let the humans and goblins have at it, we can't survive. This much death will poison the earth and then us.” Kris looked at each fey in turn. They weren't grinning now. “We are the last of our kind, the last of the checks that balance the human and lutin worlds. As such, we have a moral obligation to survive—and to keep the peace.”

“Amen, brother,” Jack said, getting to his feet.

Joy, what's wrong? I can feel you ruminating, and it's getting in the way of my own.
And that was saying something for Adora, because all around her the garden was whispering urgently. To her or about her, Adora wasn't sure which, but it was damned distracting. She even wondered if, should she turn about quickly, she would catch the vines behind her bent toward each other like old ladies gossiping behind their fanlike blossoms.

“Hush!” she finally said to the plants. “Look, I'm not trying to abridge your right to free speech, but what about my right to freedom of thought? You're stuffing my ears with noise until I can't think. Just hold it down until I'm gone, okay?” There was sudden silence.

Joy? Talk to me
.

Sorry to bother you. It's just . . .

What? Spit it out. You've never been mealy-mouthed, so don't start now.

Look, you've always thought of me as a shadow, something always close by but still separate from you. But really I'm not separate. I've always been a part of you, and without you, I don't exist
. The confession was made in a small voice.
And I'm not sure that Kris likes me. The whole fire-sex thing is dangerous, and he probably thinks it's my fault. He may want you to get rid of me.

Adora thought about this.
You know, Joy, it would probably be healthier if I were an integrated personality . . . but that's not happening anytime soon that I can see. Anyway, you're what helps me control the fire thing—which I'm sure he has guessed. But if not, I'll explain.
Adora grimaced. She was going to have a lot to explain.
So, let's not worry about it too much. The future will just have to look after itself for a bit. Let's concentrate on getting through today.

Joy in turn thought for a moment.
Okay. So, what are
you
ruminating about? I haven't been listening.

Before Adora could answer, she came upon a strange animal out in the garden, perched atop a giant flowering vine. It was an odd mix of scales and fur, and looked vaguely like a rodent that had been grafted onto a lizard. She found the long drooping mustache that reached its waist especially appealing. The creature looked like the Frito Bandito.

“Oooh. Hello, handsome,” she said softly. “Will you let me pet you? I'll be very gentle if you let me.”

The creature drew itself up, either insulted or preparing for flight.

“Here. Try this.” A boy who looked a bit like Huck Finn rolled out from under a bush and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a lintcovered dog bone and offered it to her. The creature was suddenly interested. “But he isn't handsome, he's an imp. He likes dog cookies. And electrical wiring. That's why he isn't allowed in Thomas's computer lab. No, greedy guts! The
lady
wants to feed you.”

The imp's teeth chattered excitedly.

Adora stared at the chatty boy who stood in a place where no one had been only moments before. A line from
The Wizard of Oz
popped into Adora's head—
People come and go so quickly around here
.There was
something very will-o'-the-wisplike about his arrival, but there was nothing phantomlike about the boy himself. In fact, he looked exceptionally sturdy for a fey.

“Thanks.” Adora took the cookie with only mild trepidation.

He's just a boy. They're very common—not like a person with a second head or a third eye
. She forced a smile for the waiting child and then slowly knelt. She offered her treat tentatively to the vibrating imp.

“His name's Wessley,” the boy informed her. “But don't call him that either. He doesn't like it.”

“I see.” She kept her eyes on the imp. Not sure what to say, she went with the first thing that popped into her head: “I wouldn't want to be a Wessley either.”

“Well, you're a girl.” That was said sympathetically.

“I never had a pet, either,” Adora confided. “My parents thought that—eek!”

The imp's nose twitched once more and then it jumped forward with teeth bared. Adora fell back on her butt and squeaked again, but she managed to keep her arm extended long enough for the imp to get his cookie. He didn't bite as he snatched the bone from her fingers, but he scampered away with great haste, the dog biscuit clutched to his chest, sharp teeth chattering.

Adora exhaled nervously and got back to her feet, dusting off her skirt. She needed to be careful; she didn't want to ruin another expensive piece of clothing.

That little beast has enormous teeth. I thought he'd take my fingers off
, she thought.

Joy chuckled.
Of course it didn't bite you. It knows what side its dog cookie is buttered on
.

The imp gave Adora a long look from its regained floral perch, and shoved the dog biscuit between his jaws and crunched noisily until it was gone. He waited a full fifteen seconds for her to do something more, but not seeing any other cookies in the offing, he turned and scampered away, leaving a small trail of shredded blossoms behind him.