I want to argue with her. I want to list off the names of Bobby's victims, starting with my own. I don't say a word.
The Queen gives a small, sharp nod and turns another card, two roads crossing in the desert night. "When you go to the crossroads, you take your chances with the bargain you'll be offered. There's no backing out once you begin. Bobby Cross requested eternal life, time to race every road he could, and something came up out of the deepest levels of the midnight and granted him his heart's desire."
Bobby Cross rode out into the desert one night, following another successful movie premiere in a string that seemed like it would go on forever, and he was never seen again. There was no body, no wreck, nothing but some skidmarks cutting across the pavement, and the disappearance of the greatest star of an age. Had he managed to drive into the twilight, where the cameras couldn't find him, after making his bargain?
I was starting to believe that he had. I swallow, and ask, "So what was the catch? Nothing's free. Not when it comes from the midnight."
"Clever little ghost." She turns another card, and my stomach lurches again, dinner demanding the right to make a return appearance. The likeness is so exact that it could have been painted from a photograph, sixteen-year-old girl with her wheat-colored hair lightened by lemon juice, wearing a green silk gown that was risque, once, and now seems almost hopelessly old-fashioned. Sixteen-year-old girl with wide, trusting brown eyes, and all her life ahead of her.
If only I'd stayed home that night. If only I'd waited for Gary to call, to tell me why he was so late. If I could take it back I would, all of it, every second of that night and all the nights since, all the time that slipped away since the night that I looked in the mirror and saw the girl on the painted card.
"Eternal life was an easy thing to grant. All it takes is convincing the ghostroads that a person is already dead, while leaving them among the living. I could do it, if I had time enough, and reason, and wanted to anger the Ocean Lady. But eternal youth...now that's a harder race to run." She turns another card, broken mirror this time, blood clinging to the shards at the center. "If Bobby wants to stay young enough to enjoy his side of the bargain, he has to...do things. Things that might not seem so pleasant."
"You mean he has to kill people."
The Queen of the Routewitches smiles as she takes her hands away from the cards and opens the bottle of wine. The sharp, overly-sweet smell of cheap port fills the trailer. "I mean that it's time we discussed the topic of payment."
Well, crap.
***
Nothing's free in the twilight; everything's an exchange. Sweet-talking someone out of their jacket for a few hours of stolen-back life. Preventing one accident at the cost of causing another. I don't know why I thought for half a heartbeat that dealing with the Queen would be different. "I think I left my wallet in my other coffin," I say, as dryly as I can.
"We don't deal in money here." The Queen offers the wine bottle across the table, eyes fixed unwaveringly on mine. "A favor, Rose Marshall. That's all I'll charge you for your answers. One day, one of mine will come to you, and ask you to do something. Refuse, and the hands of my people will be set against you until such time as you run these roads no longer. Agree, and your debt is paid."
"I can't agree to every single thing I'm asked to do just because the person asking might be 'one of yours,'" I protest.
"The one who comes to claim the favor will bring a password to prove that it's for me," she replies, smooth and calm. "All you have to do is what you're asked."
"I won't kill anyone."
"Pretty little ideals for a ghost with nowhere else to turn. Do your scruples extend to Bobby, or has he forfeited his right to live?" The Queen smirks, utterly amused, utterly patient. She knows she has the upper hand here. God help me, so do I. "Agreed. You won't be asked to kill anyone, or deliver anyone to any fate they have not earned. If these requests are made of you, our bargain is done, and you owe me nothing."
If there's a catch here, I can't see it. I'm tired, and I really don't know where else to turn. It was a whim that set me on the Ocean Lady...but it was a whim that's been a long damn time coming, and it's time that this was done. "A favor for my answers," I agree. "I'll do it."
"I thought you might." She keeps holding out the bottle, clearly waiting for me to take it. "Go ahead. Have a drink."
The wine is sweet enough to be cloying; it burns the back of my throat, setting my head spinning in an instant. The Queen pulls the bottle away, taking a drink of her own before she sets it aside, and says, "So we have bargained and so we are bound, Rose Marshall of Michigan, Shadow of Sparrow Hill Road. May the Ocean Lady keep our bond in safety."