Blood Engines(50)
A subheading labeled “Beneficial Uses” caught Marla’s eye. Apart from helping native hunters poison their prey—the tribespeople heated the frogs over fires, then wiped their darts on the frogs’ sweating backs—Mr. Terrible had other useful qualities. Doctors were working with extracts of their poison, batrachotoxin, to make painkillers that were potentially ten times as effective as morphine, without the nasty, physically addictive side effects. Marla wondered if Mutex had used some sympathetic magic to tap into that quality, too. If so, he could be formidable in battle. People who didn’t feel pain were difficult to fight.
She turned the page. And there it was: “Predators.”
Mr. Terrible only had one natural predator. Leimadopis epinephelus. It was a snake, naturally immune to the frog’s poison, and it chowed down on Mr. Terrible and all his brethren at will.
B and Ray were chatting, and Marla interrupted Ray in mid-sentence. “I want to buy a snake.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ray said. “What did you have in mind?”
“I can’t pronounce it,” she said. “One of these.” She tapped the name.
Ray frowned. “I think you’re out of luck. Even if I could get you one—which I can’t—it’d be an illegal exotic pet. Not unlike that frog you’ve got in your plastic bag there, but since it’s dead, that’s probably less of a problem.”
“Money isn’t an issue,” Marla said. “Neither is legality. Time, however, is. I need one of these snakes, and I need it before morning.”
Ray looked at B for help, and B cleared his throat. “I don’t think he’s holding out on you, Marla. They don’t have that snake here, and it’s not something he can get.”
“Truth,” Ray said. “There might be one of these snakes in captivity somewhere in the state, but who knows? It’s a relatively rare snake from the rain forest. I don’t even know what they look like, and I know more about snakes than the average guy.”
“I need one,” Marla said. “You must have some idea where I can find one.”
Ray lifted his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Sorry. I’m sure there are dedicated reptile smugglers out there somewhere, but I don’t know them. And even if I did, I doubt old Leimadopis would be a hot seller.”
Marla swore, then ripped the relevant pages out of the book. Ray started to protest, and Rondeau was there as if by magic, handing him a suspiciously large bill. Ray’s half scowl deepened, but he put the money in his shirt pocket. “Want me to try to reach Langford?” Rondeau said. “He’s got sources. Maybe he could, I don’t know, ship us a snake by special courier.”
“It might come to that,” Marla said, folding up the pages and walking away. Rondeau followed, as did B, after saying his apologetic farewell to Ray. “But I’m afraid it wouldn’t happen fast enough. He’d have to find a snake first, after all, and that takes time, even for a biomancer.”
“I guess this explains Mutex’s ugly red-and-green snakeskin short-shorts,” Rondeau said. “He probably didn’t buy those out of a catalog, though.”
“Probably not,” Marla said.
“Why do you need that snake anyway?” B said.
“She needs a little sympathy,” Rondeau said.
“Exactly,” Marla said.
“And what does that mean?” B asked.
“The circumspect nature of the response indicates that sorcerers like to have a few secrets, B,” Rondeau said, putting an arm around his shoulder. “We’re only as good as our mysteries, after all.”
They walked another dozen or so steps before Marla said “We’re idiots, Rondeau.”
“I know,” Rondeau said. “It just hit me, too. But, ah, are you sure you want to use that tool for this job?”
“For now, this is the only job that matters. If I don’t succeed at this one, there won’t be any more jobs.” Marla didn’t like this, either—it seemed a trivial use of a powerful resource—but anything that might help keep her alive wasn’t truly trivial.
“Yeah,” Rondeau said. “I can see that. We need a snake.”
“Ray already said he can’t get you that snake—” B began.
“No, no,” Rondeau said. “Not the poison-frog-eating snake. Any snake will do, for now.”
“B,” Marla said. “Go back and buy me a garter snake or something, would you? Something small.”