Blood Engines(111)

 

Marla snorted. “Ever hear of right of conquest? Besides, Cole supports my claim.”

 

“There have been major upheavals in the past few days,” Cole said. “All the powerful sorcerers who used to live here are either dead—”

 

“I killed a couple of them myself,” Marla said.

 

Cole went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “—or have otherwise departed forever. The…precipitating situation has been contained, but a power vacuum has developed in the aftermath. I owe Marla greatly for her part in saving this city, and she has asked that I offer you the stewardship of San Francisco.”

 

Susan frowned. “I have no wish to be your puppet, Cole.”

 

Cole waved his hand vaguely. “I’m going to the Marin Headlands, across the Golden Gate, to train B, away from the distractions of the city. Once he has a better grasp of his powers, I’m going back to sleep for a few more decades. I have no interest in running San Francisco, and I will swear to the same under the auspices of any spell you choose. I may walk its streets and eat its food, and I will always admire its beauty and vibrance, but I will not try to control it. But you will swear to protect this city to the best of your ability, under the auspices of a spell of my choosing.”

 

“Come on, Susan,” Marla said. “Why would you want our dirty, industrial, blizzard-prone city when you could have the jewel of the West Coast? This isn’t a lateral move, either. I think most people would agree that San Francisco is a step up from Felport. You said yourself, my city’s a shithole.”

 

“But you would rather rule Felport,” Susan said.

 

“I love that city. It’s where I’ve made my life. You’ve always said that if you took over Felport, you’d run out the heavy industry, gentrify downtown, try to bring in high-tech companies. Why go to all that trouble, when you can come here? Not that this place doesn’t have its problems—I’ve never seen such shitty traffic, or so many homeless people, and the Mission is like an open-air latrine—but it’s got all that world-class theater and art and music you’re always going on about, too.”

 

“This is the proposal on the table,” Cole said. “Leave Marla alone, and you may take over San Francisco. The offer will, of course, be withdrawn if anything happens to Marla during our negotiations.”

 

“All my contacts and associates are in Felport,” Susan said, but she sounded uncertain, and Marla could taste the win.

 

“So bring ’em. Hell, you can be like a medieval queen, and give out lands to your worthy knights. Let your lieutenants run the different neighborhoods. It’s a totally clean slate out here. Organize it any way you like.”

 

“I will need time to consider your offer,” Susan said.

 

Marla sat back and nodded. Susan always made a big deal of thinking things through, being careful, not rushing in, but she wanted this, Marla could tell. Susan had never liked Felport, had certainly never loved it, not the way Marla did. Circumstance and opportunity had brought her there, when she’d started out as the sorcerer Gregor’s apprentice, before she’d surpassed him with her own skills. Control was the important thing for Susan, and the chance to control a major city would be too great a temptation for her—it would even overcome her animosity toward Marla.

 

“We’ll meet again this evening, then,” Cole said.

 

 

 

 

 

“I wish we hadn’t had to give Susan anything,” Rondeau said as he packed his bag that night, after the negotiations were finished, the bindings sworn, and power over San Francisco given to Susan. “She doesn’t deserve this place. She’ll be a better ruler than Mutex would have been, but that’s about all I can say in her favor.”

 

“Watch your mouth,” Marla said. “You’re talking about Her Highness, Queen of San Francisco. I hope she doesn’t get swallowed by an earthquake. In the meantime, I had Hamil send over some guys to rob Susan’s apartments and make it look like the Chupacabra boys did it.”

 

“Sweet,” Rondeau said. “She’s got some great furniture.” He glanced at her. “Of course, now that you aren’t going to disappear, you’ve got Ch’ang Hao to worry about.”

 

“I remember. But I’m used to worrying. It’s my job.”

 

Rondeau went to the window and looked out at the city. “I enjoyed this place,” he said after a while. “I’m glad we came.”

 

“Yeah,” Marla said. “Me, too.” She closed her suitcase. “Now let’s get the hell out of here, and go back home where we belong.”