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Blood Engines(109)

By:T.A. Pratt
 
“We gave him to Ch’ang Hao to dispose of, though he didn’t seem to relish the task, as his enemy was catatonic. Ch’ang Hao asked me to tell you that he looks forward to seeing you again.”
 
“Not if I see him first,” Marla muttered. But soon, no one would ever see her again, so it was a moot point. “Do me a favor. Teach B, would you? Unless you’re going back to sleep.”
 
“No. Not for a while. I want to enjoy being awake for a bit first. I suppose I can stay awake for a few years, and teach B what I can.”
 
“Good,” Marla said. “He’s a good kid. I’d hate to see him go crazy or anything.” Cole was as fine a seer as had ever lived, and his ways were not particularly violent, unlike Marla’s. She was still troubled by the way she’d tried to turn B into a weapon to kill the Celestial, and proud of him for finding another solution. Cole would continue to lead him down the seer’s path. “Even if I were going to be around to teach him, I wouldn’t want to. The way I do things…that’s not right for B.”
 
“I understand,” Cole said.
 
Marla gestured toward the window. “So who’s going to run things in San Francisco now?”
 
“That’s an open question. I do intend to go back to sleep in a few years, and I have no taste for leadership anyway. Several sorcerers fled, and they’ll be coming back soon, I imagine…but they’ll be a bit surprised when they do.”
 
“Oh?”
 
“I’ve cast a spell so that they can’t come back into the city at all. They’ll reach the border and find themselves repelled. If they try to push their way in, they’ll get sick, and if they become truly insistent, they will die. Let Oakland have them. They deserted San Francisco in her hour of need, and they will not be allowed back into her good graces.”
 
“I approve,” Marla said. She crossed her feet on the windowsill. “Where’s Rondeau?”
 
“Ah.” Cole squirmed. “I cannot say for sure, but I believe he is making love to the Celestial’s apprentice, now that she is back in her proper form and feeling grateful for his assistance. He said something about giving Mr. Bowman a try after he finished with the apprentice.”
 
Marla laughed. “Same old Rondeau. He didn’t help the apprentice for the sex, but he’s happy enough to take advantage of it.” She sucked on her cigarette, tasted the smoke, exhaled. “So, Cole. You know lots of the old lore. I’ve been meaning to ask you, since the apocalyptic showdown this afternoon—is there some other way I can protect myself from Susan, now that the Cornerstone is gone?” She had to ask, but she knew the answer.
 
“Is there a way to keep the erasure spell from working on you? No, I don’t think so. Not unless you can find one of the two remaining Cornerstones, which seems unlikely, given that your time is limited.”
 
“That’s what I figured,” Marla said. She wondered if she’d be able to get back to her own city before Susan made her disappear. It would be nice, if her last sight was of her own city. It might be heartbreaking, too, but there were some things so sad and wrong that it was only right to let your heart break over them. “I didn’t think there was any other way.”
 
“There’s not a magical way, no,” Cole said. “Though there is one thing you might try….”
 
“What?” Marla said, hearing the note of desperate hope in her own voice, and knowing it was justified; she was, perhaps, just a few hours away from ceasing to be, and if there was a better time to be desperately hopeful, she didn’t know what it was.
 
“You might consider diplomacy. It has often worked for me, when all else failed.”
 
Marla shook her head. “I don’t think Susan’s going to be willing to negotiate with me. She wants my job, and she knows she’ll never get it as long as I’m alive.”
 
“Do you think she would still refuse to negotiate if I offered my services as a mediator?” Cole said.
 
Marla turned her gaze from the window to look at Cole. “You’d do that?”
 
“Oh, yes. Though it will be a true negotiation—I’m not offering to settle this for you by making threats or taking action against her. But, given time, I could cast a spell on her that would make her plans to erase you seem a paltry thing.” His voice was grim, and Marla appreciated it—she’d made a friend of him.
 
“What can I possibly offer Susan?” Marla said. “She wants my city. That’s one thing I can never give her.”