“I said it was,” I say indignantly.
“Unequivocally.”
“Like, I even used that exact word!”
“What is this ‘abomination?’ ” Ryodan says.
“We do not know. We have never needed to know about our foul brethren.”
“Yet you’re worried enough about it that you’re here. In a dark Dublin street. The new king of the Seelie himself.”
It seems to mollify R’jan to hear himself called the new king of the Seelie. He looks away and doesn’t say anything for a second. Then he shivers. “It brings final death to our kind.”
“Like the spear and the sword,” I say.
“I told you to shut her up.”
“Answer her.”
“She cannot understand what it is to be Fae.”
Ryodan doesn’t say a word. He takes one step forward and R’jan immediately takes one step back all smooth, like they’re doing a choreographed dance.
“One day, human—”
“You might want to rethink what you’re calling me.”
“—I will crush you beneath my heel and—”
“Until that fictitious day, you will answer me when I speak.” He steps over Velvet’s body, closing the distance between them.
R’jan steps back.
“How does ‘final death’ differ from what the sword does,” Ryodan says.
“Your puny brains were not fashioned to grasp the greatness of being D’Anu.”
Ryodan crosses his arms, waiting. Dude’s got some serious presence. I want to be like him when I grow up. “You’ll have no brain at all in three seconds. Two.”
R’jan says tightly, “The spear and sword end immortal life. They sever the connection that binds our matter together and scatter it to the wind.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Even if we die, that of which we are fashioned is still out there, blowing. We feel all our kindred through all time, impressions in the fabric of the universe. We are individual yet a skein, vast and glorious. You cannot know what it is to belong to such an enormous, divine entity. This … this … thing … whatever it is, is pruning our tree. It does more than merely unbind our matter. It scatters nothing to the wind. Nothing. It is as if those it takes have never been. Its victims are … erased. You cannot begin to perceive how painful that is for us. Death, even by the sword and spear, leaves us connected. This abomination is amputating our race, limb by limb!”
The Ice Monster is stripping away Fae existence on the deepest level. There’s something to my “life force” theory!
“You have strong incentive to see it stopped.”
I interpret R’jan’s expression as a royal “Duh.”
“Which makes it worth a lot to you.”
R’jan gives him an incredulous look. “You could not hope to terminate it nor do I barter with pigs and fools.”
“I will terminate it. You will pay me handsomely for services rendered when and how I choose to invoice you. And, one day, you will kneel before me and swear your fealty. At Chester’s. Before an audience of Fae.”
“We could do fireworks,” I say excitedly.
“Never,” R’jan says.
“I’m a patient man,” Ryodan says.
I think about that later, as we dig through the rubble, fill my ziplock and tuck it into my backpack. I munch a candy bar to make more room in my bag. “You’re not patient. You zero in on something and lock on like a missile. You’re the most pushy, manipulative person I know. And I knew Rowena.”
“Patience and persistence aren’t mutually exclusive. You have no idea how patient I am. When I want something.”
“What does somebody like you want? More power? More toys? More sex?”
“All of the above. All the time.”
“Greedy bugger.”
“Kid, let me tell you something. Most people spend their short time in this world less than half alive. They wander through their days in a haze of responsibility and resentment. Something happens to them not long after they’re born. They get conflicted about what they want and start worshipping the wrong gods. Should. Mercy. Equality. Altruism. There’s nothing you should do. Do what you want. Mercy isn’t Nature’s way. She’s an equal opportunity killer. We aren’t born the same. Some are stronger, smarter, faster. Never apologize for it. Altruism is an impossible concept. There’s no action you can make that doesn’t spring from how you want to feel about yourself. Not greedy, Dani. Alive. And happy about it every single fucking day.”
“Are we done here yet? I got a paper to get out.” I roll my eyes when I say it so he doesn’t see how much what he just said got to me. I think it might be the smartest thing I ever heard anyone say. “Hey, you think my sword’s—”
“For fuck’s sake no.”
“Geez, dude. Just asking.”
We stop by two more scenes in Dublin that got iced, first the fitness center, then one of the small underground pubs. It’s a gaping hole in the pavement, with chunks of concrete listing in at dangerous angles. There’s nobody around to cordon it off and make sure wandering kids don’t fall in. Fortunately there aren’t as many wandering kids as there were right after Halloween. We’ve gotten most of them off the streets. Some of them refused to come in, chose to go underground instead. Got to respect that. It sucks being taken pity on by someone else’s family, knowing you’re not really part of it. I wonder how wild they’ll be in a few years. I can’t wait to see what they become. I think in a few years they’ll make a heck of an army. Growing up alone makes you tough.
Until the walls fell, I never knew there were so many places beneath Dublin. I used to think there were only a few underground rivers, a couple of crypts like the ones at Christ Church and St. Patrick’s, and maybe the occasional cellar. Dublin keeps a lot of secrets. Since the walls came down, I’ve discovered all kinds of places down under. We Irish are a canny lot, we like multiple ways out of a tight spot. And why shouldn’t we? Look at how many folks have tried to be the boss of us, and for how long!
I peer into the rubble-filled hole. “Dude, how am I going to get my ziplock?”
“Boss, we got a problem.”
I glance over my shoulder. One of Ryodan’s men is standing there, looking pissed. It’s a dude I don’t often see. I’ve never heard anyone say his name. I think of him as Shadow because he glides into rooms barely disturbing the air. You almost overlook him, which is a feat considering he’s a foot and a half taller than me and got to be three hundred pounds. Watches everything like me. Doesn’t speak much, unlike me. Tall and muscled like the rest of them, scarred like the rest of them, hair like night and eyes like whiskey in a glass.