Magic Strikes(85)
«If you're lucky, it's mud. Sign here.» Rene stuck a form in a clipboard in front of me. «Waives
all responsibility for your death in the Pit.»
I signed. Within two minutes I was weaving my way through the bottom level, accompanied by a
somber Red Guard. The worry sat like a ball of ice in the pit of my stomach. I had no trouble
finding the right room-I heard Andrea's voice. «Sling?»
«It's just a figure of speech,» Raphael said.
I ducked into the room and saw her before a table. Firearms covered the table's surface: her two
prized SIG-SAUERS, a couple of Colts, Beretta, Smith & Wesson . . . She had enough weapons to
hold off a small army. Raphael watched her from the bench, his face an odd meld of awe and worry.
Andrea saw me and grinned. «You know what they can do with their sling? They can stick it up
their asses!»
I tried to sound smart. «Well, technically it's more of a ranged weapon, Andrea . . .»
«Screw you! I'm not going out there with a little rag and a pebble.»
Raphael looked a little scared.
I crossed the room to stow my gear on the shelves. The double doors to the bedroom were wide
open and I saw Derek in one of the bunks reading a book. Doolittle hovered next to him, with a
concerned look that would've done a mother hen proud.
«He's hovering,» Derek said.
«I'm not hovering,» Doolittle grumbled.
Derek looked at me.
«You're definitely hovering,» I said. «So you decided to join us after all? I thought you said we
were all fools.»
«No fool like an old fool . . .» Derek murmured.
Doolittle made a long, pissed-off sound, like the growl of a bear-if the bear was about a foot
tall.
«Badger!» I smiled. It fit him.
Derek rolled his eyes. «What, you just now figured it out? It's not like you can miss the musk . .
.»
«Now that was uncalled for.» Doolittle shook his head. «Ungrateful wretch.»
I pulled a blanket and a pillow from an unclaimed bunk and took myself to an empty corner.
«What's wrong with the bed?» Derek asked.
«I don't sleep well with others.» I fixed my bed on the floor. «No, I take it back; I sleep well. I
just might wake up with my sword in your gut. Of course, if it is you, I'd probably roll over and go
back to dreamland.»
Jim came into the room, approached the beds, tensed, and hopped onto the top bunk from the
floor. From there he had an excellent view of the room.
«Where is Dali?» I asked him.
«In the hot tub.» Jim shrugged, his face tainted with feline disgust. «There is one adjacent to the
locker room. If there is an inch of running water, she'll crawl into it. Tigers.»
«I didn't know jaguars minded water.» I had seen him swim before. He seemed to enjoy it.
«I don't mind swimming if there are fish or frogs involved.»
Jaguar logic for you. «Everyone made it?»
«Except for the freak.»
Knowing Saiman, he probably had to hire extra help to carry all his clothes.
Dali entered the room, modestly wrapped in a towel, which she immediately dropped to wave at
me, and began to dress.
Derek raised his head, suddenly alert. «Incoming. Several people.»
Rene appeared in the doorway. «Your owner sends his apologies. It seems your original Stone
won't be joining you, but Durand sent in a substitute.» She stepped aside. «In you go.»
A familiar figure blocked the doorway. My feet froze to the floor.
«Play nice,» Rene said and departed.
Funereal silence descended upon the room. Nobody moved.
«All right,» Curran said. «Let's talk.»
He took Raphael by his arm, dragging him off the bench like he was a day-old kitten. He swiped
naked Dali with his other hand, brought them both to the bedroom, and shut the doors behind him.
ANDREA SAT DOWN ON THE BENCH, FACING THE door. She put one SIG-Sauer on each
side. Her face wore a grim expression.
«If he injures Raphael, I'm going to shoot him. Just letting you know.»
«You changed your mind about Raphael?»
«I'm still deciding,» she said. «And I'm not going to let the Beast Lord take it from me by
crippling him.»
«Aim for the nuts,» I advised and left.
I wandered through the hallway to the Gold Gate. The huge chamber of the Arena lay empty.
Nothing but me and the sand.
I crossed the floor to the wire door and stepped into the Pit. The sand lay placid. In my dreams it
was always splattered with blood, but now it was clean and yellow. I crouched, picked up a handful,
and let it slide through my fingers. Strange how it was cold.
The grains of sand fell in a feathery curtain. Memories came. Heat. The taste of blood in my