The Kill Society (Sandman Slim)(67)

I sit down with my back against the gun, suddenly exhausted. Get the Aqua Regia and drink a big mouthful. It burns my raw throat like acid, but it’s worth it.

Wanuri sits down next to me. I pass her the Aqua Regia and she passes it right back.

“Keep your swill and tell me how you did that.”

I make a rasping noise and point to my throat.

“You can’t talk? That’s one blessing at least.”

The rest of the crew that uncovered the gun come up to where we’re sitting and stare out over the water. Nothing to do now but wait and see what happens next.

A lot of nothing occurs over the next few minutes. Eventually, though, one by one, the big ships turn and head back upriver away from us.

A cheer goes up a couple of boats back as the peanut gallery sees that they get to die tomorrow instead of right now. Our bunch cheers, too, but Wanuri and I just sit there. I know she’s thinking exactly what I am: We got lucky once, but what happens next time?

We head back to the ship, where the havoc is already breaking out drinks.

Daja is waiting for us.

“What did you do up there?”

I point to my throat.

“He’s gone mute, the poor dear,” says Wanuri as unsympathetically as possible. “What he did was what he’s best at. He talked them to death.”

Daja says, “Whatever that means, good job. The Magistrate wants to see you.”

I point to myself.

“Yes. Just you.”

There’s a party going on belowdecks. As I push through to the Magistrate’s stateroom, people clap me on the back and offer me drinks. I shake my head and keep moving. At the Magistrate’s door, I knock and go in.

Traven isn’t there anymore. I point to his bunk.

“Do not worry about the father,” the Magistrate says. “He just moved to the adjoining room to give us some privacy.”

Grimacing, he sits up a little higher in bed.

“I heard the blasts from here. I take it those were your doing?”

I nod and point to my throat.

“Shouted yourself hoarse, did you? That is all right. I know about the Sub Rosa and the things they can do. And I know about the nephilim. More perhaps than you think. Help me take my shirt off.”

He unbuttons himself and I help him get out the rest of the way. With some effort, he turns around.

“If you will, look at my back.”

There are two deep scars, long and ugly, running from his shoulders almost to his waist.

Fuck me.

He’s an angel.

I was not expecting that.

He turns back around and falls against the hull of the ship. Pearly blood dots the bandages on his chest.

“I can tell that you recognize the scars. And that you are perhaps a bit shocked. Is it my wound? Yes, it is worse than it should be, but I do not heal the way I used to. I lost some of my power when I gave up my wings.”

All I can do is croak out a word.

“Why?”

“That is a story for another time. What is important now is the weapon. It was clever of you to use it as you did. But niphal tricks will not bring down Heaven’s wall or restore order to Creation. That is why we must continue the crusade.”

“You. Captured.”

“When I was taken by the Legionnaires? Yes. Your first guess was right. I allowed it. I needed to speak to them. I hoped that as fallen angels, they would understand an angel who lives in exile voluntarily. Unfortunately, they did not. They had no information of value and they would not join the havoc. There was nothing left for them but to be destroyed.”

“Does Daja know?”

“No. And please do not tell her. Her faith is strong, but her heart is fragile and there is still so much left to do.”

I shrug.

“We must find the Lux Occisor. We must arm the weapon and take it to Heaven. That is our mission. Nothing must stop it.”

I try to say something, but nothing comes out. I take a shot of Aqua Regia and try again.

“Why tell me?”

“Because you have something that I do not have, nor do our angels. You have a friendship with Death.”

I frown at him. Where is he going with this?

“You must find him. Convince him to help us. How many attacks have we endured and the second part of our journey has barely begun? We cannot continue on like this. Death is one ally none of our enemies can overcome. He must be brought to our side.”

“Don’t know where he is.”

“Then you must find him. We will bring the ships to shore and, like the saints of old, you will go into the wilderness and meditate until he appears.”

The Magistrate is ten times more deranged than I thought, but what if he’s right? He’s a wreck. The havoc is barely holding together. I’m sure the angels want the gun, but it’s no use to them unless it works. They should just steal it and get the Light Killer themselves, but angels aren’t supposed to steal. And maybe they need the havoc to get the sword. It’s entirely possible that they’re not telling us something and stringing us along.

Then there’s Wormwood. I know they’re involved somehow, but I can’t figure out how or why. The Magistrate has more secrets, too, I bet. Goddammit. I don’t know what to do. I want off this crazy train, but there’s nowhere to jump and people I care about will get hurt if I go. Maybe even Alice. I got her killed once. I won’t let that happen again.