Blood Engines(110)

 

“Oh, I appreciate that. But if Susan is as formidable, smart, and capable as you say, then I believe there is something you can offer that she might accept.” Cole turned, pointedly, and looked out the window, at the city glittering below and beyond on the hills. Marla looked with him.

 

“Cole,” she said. “You’re a genius.”

 

“It’s been said before, yet I never grow tired of hearing it. I was not much help in the fight, I know—battle has never been my forte—but I pride myself on finding elegant solutions to difficult problems.”

 

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

 

“The way you describe this Susan, I think she might be a tool suited to the task.”

 

“The only drawback is that I don’t get to kill her when it’s all over,” Marla said. This could actually work. Susan was pigheaded and proud, so it might not work, but there was a chance.

 

Marla reached out and touched Cole’s hand. “You’re the strangest sorcerer I’ve ever met. I don’t know if it’s because of the time you come from, or if it’s just you, but…you’re different. I’ve always thought being the best sorcerer meant being able to utterly overwhelm your enemies, being the toughest thug, but that’s not the way you approach things at all, is it?”

 

“There are many reasons to become a sorcerer,” Cole said. “Many, perhaps most, do it for the thrill of power, or to strike back at a world that made them feel powerless. But some become sorcerers because it’s the best way in the world to protect the things you love.” He shrugged. “If you have to give up the things you love to increase your power, then what’s the point of having the power at all?”

 

Marla nodded. She thought about which kind of sorcerer she was. The answer was not as clear to her as she might have hoped, but at least she’d finally thought to ask the question.

 

 

 

 

 

Susan entered the hotel’s conference room in her usual elegant fashion. She was tall, lean, blond, perfectly attired. Sitting down with the grace of a cat, she inclined her head toward Sanford Cole. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. She looked at Marla, but pointedly said nothing.

 

Marla stared straight into Susan’s eyes—the left one was green; the right one, blue—and smiled. “Good to see you, Sue. Thanks for coming all the way out west.”

 

“Neutral ground seemed appropriate,” Susan said. “I wouldn’t have come, but Hamil assured me you were telling the truth, and that Sanford Cole did indeed wish to speak to me on your behalf.”

 

Marla had to bite back a dozen responses. She wanted to accuse Susan of treason, betrayal, idiocy, low morals, and pretentiousness, but she forced herself to keep smiling. Susan really was good at what she did. Marla’s city simply wasn’t big enough for the both of them, any more than one anthill could have two queens.

 

“This is Bradley Bowman, Cole’s apprentice,” Marla said.

 

“A pleasure,” B said, beaming. He was no longer an in-between creature, an ordinary plagued by visions; now he was an initiate, learning from the best. It wasn’t an easy path, but it was a path.

 

And it probably didn’t hurt his mood that he’d had sex with Rondeau the night before, and probably this morning, if the sounds coming from the hotel room adjoining Marla’s own were any indication.

 

“I enjoyed your films,” Susan said to B, cool as cut glass.

 

“Susan,” Cole said, getting to business. “You wish to erase Marla from reality in order take control of her city, yes?”

 

“That’s right. I would run Felport far better, and since I know Marla will never step aside, I have no choice but to stage a coup. The fact that she could not prevent me from banishing her into nothingness without your intervention should serve to prove my qualifications, I think.”

 

“The spell didn’t work when you tried it yesterday,” Marla said.

 

“Then you shouldn’t mind if I try it again,” Susan said. “I’ll just go and do it now, shall I?”

 

“I don’t think such a banishing will be necessary,” Cole said. “I believe we may be able to reach an accommodation.”

 

“Oh? Marla is willing to name me her successor and go into voluntary exile?”

 

“Hell, no,” Marla said. “But how would you like to move out west and run San Francisco?”

 

Susan stared at her for a moment, then said, “That is not in your power to give.”