Discount Armageddon
Page 32
“Cool. Thanks.” I picked up my fork, using it to slice off a sliver of gingerbread. Dominic grudgingly did the same.
That seemed to have been the last piece Piyusha needed to convince her that we weren’t intending to set her on fire. “Like I said, I’m not the most connected person around, but what I’ve heard is that not everyone who’s leaving is actually, y’know, leaving. Some of them just disappear. No notes, no forwarding addresses, nothing.”
“Well, that happens,” I said. “Especially with news of the Covenant being in town getting out—”
“Does it usually happen with the lamia?”
That stopped me. The lamia are sort of like centaurs, if you expand your definition of “centaur” to include “body of the world’s biggest fucking snake.” They’re more clannish than the dragon princesses, with even better reason. They can’t blend in human society, and their endothermic metabolisms mean that they’re weak and disoriented whenever the weather gets too cold. “Safety in numbers” is the lamia creed … and no lamia I’ve ever known or read about would abandon their nest without a damn good reason.
Seeing my confusion, Piyusha pressed, “How about the hidebehinds? Four of them have disappeared.”
“How can you tell?” I asked automatically. Then I shook my head. “Sorry. That was flippant and speciesist. I just … why hasn’t anybody told me this?”
“Maybe because there’s a member of the Covenant in town? I mean, you brought him here. To me. You led him to me.” Piyusha worried her lower lip between her teeth before adding, “It sort of creeps me out.”
“Madam, I assure you, I could have found you on my own,” said Dominic, frostily.
Piyusha met his eyes straight-on, squaring her shoulders. “Would you like to bet on that?”
“This is fun, but it’s not helpful,” I said. “Do the ones who’ve disappeared have anything in common? Species, geographic location, anything?”
“They were all female, and they were all unmarried or unmated,” said Piyusha. She worried her lip again, and then added, “Some went missing during the day, and some went missing at night. A few were regular customers. I’ve been thinking about getting out of town.”
“That just might be a good idea.” I pulled my wallet out of my bag and produced a business card, setting it on the tray next to her graham crackers and honey. “Call me if you need anything, or if you find anything else that might help us figure out what’s going on. If it really is a dragon—”
“I’ll call you,” said Piyusha. Looking at her face, I could almost believe she meant it. She picked up the card, laughing nervously as she tucked it into her pocket. “My brothers aren’t going to believe that I met a real Price. Sunil’s convinced you people are just fairy tales.”
“We don’t get enough happily-ever-afters for that,” I said.
Piyusha’s expression sobered. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.” She glanced at Dominic. “That’s all I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”
It wasn’t hard to catch her drift. “Don’t worry. You’ve helped more than enough. Hasn’t she?”
“Yes,” said Dominic. He managed to make the word sound like it pained him.
I stood. “We won’t take up any more of your time. You’ll call?”
“I’ll call,” Piyusha said firmly.
We exchanged polite farewells as Dominic rose, and she walked the two of us to the door, waving off my offer of payment with a laugh that only sounded slightly forced. I found myself liking her more by the moment. Through the glass, I saw her returning to her place behind the counter. Then we walked away, and I never saw her alive again.
Eleven
“If you offered me the chance to do it all over, knowing what I know now, after the things I’ve seen … I’d shoot you in the head. That ain’t the kind of thing you ask a lady.”
—Frances Brown
The sidewalk outside Gingerbread Pudding, a dessert café with good taste in servers
DOMINIC’S RESTRAINT SURPRISED ME; he waited until we couldn’t be seen from the café’s front window before grabbing my elbow and jerking me into the nearest alley. The maneuver was sudden enough to throw me temporarily off-balance, and I stumbled against him, giving him the leverage he needed to get hold of my upper arms. His fingers dug in hard enough to pin my arms to my sides, without quite holding hard enough to hurt me. I appreciated that. I wasn’t really in the mood to break his jaw.
“You presume too much, woman,” he hissed, eyes narrowed. “How dare you? That inhuman thing—”
“Her name is Piyusha,” I said. I made an effort to keep my tone level and reasoned. “She’s a Madhura. She has a human life span. She has no physical advantages. She’s not a predator. Since she’s an unmarried female, she’s probably living with her parents or siblings, and working in the café because the day-olds contain sufficient sugar to keep them all in good health. She’ll marry when she meets a male who smells right. Wherever they live, the whole neighborhood will benefit, because the milk won’t spoil, the bread won’t go stale … hell, living near a Madhura even retards tooth decay.”
His fingers loosened, a confused expression crossing his face. The confusion passed quickly, replaced by pure fury as he clamped down again, harder than before. “Witch!” he spat. “You’re trying to twist my mind with your propaganda.”
It was the confusion that did it.
When my family left the Covenant, they told us we were wrong, that we had no idea what we were doing—that we were traitors not only to “the cause,” but to the entire human race. There’s one thing I’ve never encountered, either in the accounts I’ve read of the departure or in the reenactments of the Aeslin mice: confusion. The members of the Covenant were absolutely convinced of their truth, every step of the way. But Dominic … he might not agree with me, he might never agree with me, but the confusion I sometimes saw in his face told me there was a chance. And if there was a chance, I was going to take it.
“Propaganda? What, you mean I’m trying to make you listen to reasonable arguments about why you shouldn’t go killing people in my city?” He was starting to cut off circulation to my arms. I squirmed. “Okay, how about this: let go of me, or I’ll knee you in the balls.”
That seemed to have been the last piece Piyusha needed to convince her that we weren’t intending to set her on fire. “Like I said, I’m not the most connected person around, but what I’ve heard is that not everyone who’s leaving is actually, y’know, leaving. Some of them just disappear. No notes, no forwarding addresses, nothing.”
“Well, that happens,” I said. “Especially with news of the Covenant being in town getting out—”
“Does it usually happen with the lamia?”
That stopped me. The lamia are sort of like centaurs, if you expand your definition of “centaur” to include “body of the world’s biggest fucking snake.” They’re more clannish than the dragon princesses, with even better reason. They can’t blend in human society, and their endothermic metabolisms mean that they’re weak and disoriented whenever the weather gets too cold. “Safety in numbers” is the lamia creed … and no lamia I’ve ever known or read about would abandon their nest without a damn good reason.
Seeing my confusion, Piyusha pressed, “How about the hidebehinds? Four of them have disappeared.”
“How can you tell?” I asked automatically. Then I shook my head. “Sorry. That was flippant and speciesist. I just … why hasn’t anybody told me this?”
“Maybe because there’s a member of the Covenant in town? I mean, you brought him here. To me. You led him to me.” Piyusha worried her lower lip between her teeth before adding, “It sort of creeps me out.”
“Madam, I assure you, I could have found you on my own,” said Dominic, frostily.
Piyusha met his eyes straight-on, squaring her shoulders. “Would you like to bet on that?”
“This is fun, but it’s not helpful,” I said. “Do the ones who’ve disappeared have anything in common? Species, geographic location, anything?”
“They were all female, and they were all unmarried or unmated,” said Piyusha. She worried her lip again, and then added, “Some went missing during the day, and some went missing at night. A few were regular customers. I’ve been thinking about getting out of town.”
“That just might be a good idea.” I pulled my wallet out of my bag and produced a business card, setting it on the tray next to her graham crackers and honey. “Call me if you need anything, or if you find anything else that might help us figure out what’s going on. If it really is a dragon—”
“I’ll call you,” said Piyusha. Looking at her face, I could almost believe she meant it. She picked up the card, laughing nervously as she tucked it into her pocket. “My brothers aren’t going to believe that I met a real Price. Sunil’s convinced you people are just fairy tales.”
“We don’t get enough happily-ever-afters for that,” I said.
Piyusha’s expression sobered. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.” She glanced at Dominic. “That’s all I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”
It wasn’t hard to catch her drift. “Don’t worry. You’ve helped more than enough. Hasn’t she?”
“Yes,” said Dominic. He managed to make the word sound like it pained him.
I stood. “We won’t take up any more of your time. You’ll call?”
“I’ll call,” Piyusha said firmly.
We exchanged polite farewells as Dominic rose, and she walked the two of us to the door, waving off my offer of payment with a laugh that only sounded slightly forced. I found myself liking her more by the moment. Through the glass, I saw her returning to her place behind the counter. Then we walked away, and I never saw her alive again.
Eleven
“If you offered me the chance to do it all over, knowing what I know now, after the things I’ve seen … I’d shoot you in the head. That ain’t the kind of thing you ask a lady.”
—Frances Brown
The sidewalk outside Gingerbread Pudding, a dessert café with good taste in servers
DOMINIC’S RESTRAINT SURPRISED ME; he waited until we couldn’t be seen from the café’s front window before grabbing my elbow and jerking me into the nearest alley. The maneuver was sudden enough to throw me temporarily off-balance, and I stumbled against him, giving him the leverage he needed to get hold of my upper arms. His fingers dug in hard enough to pin my arms to my sides, without quite holding hard enough to hurt me. I appreciated that. I wasn’t really in the mood to break his jaw.
“You presume too much, woman,” he hissed, eyes narrowed. “How dare you? That inhuman thing—”
“Her name is Piyusha,” I said. I made an effort to keep my tone level and reasoned. “She’s a Madhura. She has a human life span. She has no physical advantages. She’s not a predator. Since she’s an unmarried female, she’s probably living with her parents or siblings, and working in the café because the day-olds contain sufficient sugar to keep them all in good health. She’ll marry when she meets a male who smells right. Wherever they live, the whole neighborhood will benefit, because the milk won’t spoil, the bread won’t go stale … hell, living near a Madhura even retards tooth decay.”
His fingers loosened, a confused expression crossing his face. The confusion passed quickly, replaced by pure fury as he clamped down again, harder than before. “Witch!” he spat. “You’re trying to twist my mind with your propaganda.”
It was the confusion that did it.
When my family left the Covenant, they told us we were wrong, that we had no idea what we were doing—that we were traitors not only to “the cause,” but to the entire human race. There’s one thing I’ve never encountered, either in the accounts I’ve read of the departure or in the reenactments of the Aeslin mice: confusion. The members of the Covenant were absolutely convinced of their truth, every step of the way. But Dominic … he might not agree with me, he might never agree with me, but the confusion I sometimes saw in his face told me there was a chance. And if there was a chance, I was going to take it.
“Propaganda? What, you mean I’m trying to make you listen to reasonable arguments about why you shouldn’t go killing people in my city?” He was starting to cut off circulation to my arms. I squirmed. “Okay, how about this: let go of me, or I’ll knee you in the balls.”
