Butcher Bird

Spyder reached out to where Lulu was pouring drinks from a leather sack with a bone spout. She poured a glass of amber liquid and handed it to him. Spyder took a pull and felt the liquor burn where sand had scoured the back of his throat.

"Fuck every single little bit of this," said Spyder. He rubbed his temples. "So, where the hell are we?"

"We made it to Kher-aba, the right island to get to the Kasla Mountains," said Shrike. "But we're on the wrong side."

"How big is Kher-aba?"

"Big enough," said Lulu. "Walking is not plan one." Sometime during the night she'd lost the pieces of paper she'd kept taped over her eyes. The empty sockets were black and deep. Spyder tried not to stare.

"Before we landed, we spotted a city a day or so through the desert to the north," said the Count. "There's a fres- water river nearby. We'll follow that to the city."

"What city is it?"

"We don't know," said Shrike.

"It's not one I know," Primo said.

"That doesn't sound like a good thing," said Spyder.

"It doesn't mean anything, necessarily," said Shrike. "How long has it been since Madame Cinders went looking for the way into Hell? The city could be a recent vintage."

"In any case, we have no choice. We need transportation," said the Count.

The liquor was making Spyder lightheaded. He remembered that Shrike said he'd been unconscious for a day, which meant that he hadn't eaten in all that time. The liquor buzz made the ache around his middle seem far away.

"Thanks for fixing my ribs," Spyder said.

"Glad to help a fellow fugitive."

Spyder finished his drink and held out his glass for another. "So, Count, Lulu tells me you have some wicked bad weapons?"

Count Non's face widened into a smile, showing perfect white teeth. It embarrassed Spyder that he suddenly felt like a little kid who'd just been given a compliment from his favorite teacher.

Twenty-Seven

The Hall of Mirrors

The sun was up and the air was warm when Spyder awoke. It was the kind of early morning heat that he knew meant that the afternoon would be an inferno. Hope the river water's cool, he thought.

Spyder rolled over and groaned. His side hurt less, but now his right arm was sore. He'd spent a good part of the previous evening drunkenly playing with one of Count Non's odd weapons. What had he called it? Spyder tried to remember through the haze. It was something unpronounceable, with a lot of back-of-the-throat "ch" sounds. Spyder had just ended up calling it a Hornet, he recalled. His high school football team had been the Hornets and the weapon buzzed like a stinging insect when it was spun properly.

Spyder held his side and let out a groan when he stood up.

"The more you move around, the better you'll feel," said Count Non. The big man was packing his gear into a pair of leather saddlebags, like the ones Spyder had installed on the Dead Man's Ducati. The Count's bags looked hand-tooled, with squids or some weird animals stitched all over them. Spyder envied the bags.

"That'll fix my side, but what'll fix this arm?" he asked, rotating his shoulder painfully.

"You just need more practice. At least you didn't cut off your own head with it. I saw someone do that once."

"Thanks. I'll be playing that little movie over and over in my head tonight."

"Here, drink some water," said Shrike. "We're all going to have to be careful not to dehydrate out here."

Spyder sat down next her and took the canteen she offered. The water was cool and delicious.

"That's about perfect," he said. "Did this come from the river?"

"Yes, the Count and I brought it back this morning."

"You were out there all night?"

"A good part of it. We wanted to know if anyone or anything was coming down that river."

"Was there?"

"Not a soul. Just night animals having a drink."

"Must have been boring."

"We talked."

"About anything in particular?"

"Different things."

"Different things are good. I like different things."

Shrike took her coat from the ground and, after testing with her hand to see if the ashes were cool, scooped the charred remains of the fire into the lining. She then tied the whole thing in a bundle.

"What are you doing?" asked Spyder.

"I don't want to leave a big arrow pointing to where we've been or where we're headed. We brought some reeds from the river and can drag those over the sand to dampen out footprints. The wind will do the rest."

"Any ETA on that city?"

"A day or two, depending on our pace," said Primo. He was already smoothing the sand on the far side of the fire with another bundle of reeds.

"I don't suppose we have any food?"

"No, but we have a fresh water source and that's more important," said Shrike.

"And lord knows we've got weapons," Lulu said, using the bottom of her Hello Kitty shirt to polish the blade of a long, thin knife with a yellowed bone grip.

"When do we move out?"

"Right now," Shrike said. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"If the wind will not serve, take to the oars," said Count Non, hoisting his saddlebags onto his shoulders.

"What?"