Lord Loss (The Demonata #1)(44)

He doesn't finish, so I say it for him. "...except you need me."

He shrugs. "Like I said, there's a friend I can call. But I'd rather have you. If I told you anything else, I'd be a liar."

Studying Bill-E as Dervish fetches weapons. His face and hands red with the deer's blood. Patting his stomach. Smiling jaggedly. Gazing at me through unnatural yellow eyes.

Thinking about Lord Loss. Recalling the ferocious power and speed of Artery and Vein. Fearing for my uncle's and brother's lives.

Dervish enters with a small axe, a mace and a sword. Lays them on the floor with the others he's already installed. Part of the rules - he can use as many weapons as he pleases.

"Would you want me to play chess or fight?" I ask, wishing I could keep my mouth shut.

"I've seen you play," Dervish says. "No offence, but you'd have to fight - Lord Loss would crush you on the chess boards."

"But you'd stand a better chance against Vein and Artery than me," I counter. "You're stronger and experienced. I know nothing about weapons or magic."

"You don't have to," Dervish says. "The magic knows you. That's what matters. You tapped into your potential when you faced the demons before. You'd tap into it again. Instinct."

"But you're the logical choice," I insist. "You'd be better than me."

Dervish nods sombrely. "Probably."

"And your friend's better at chess than me. So you fighting and him playing is the ideal partnership. Right?"

Dervish looks at me curiously. "You don't have to talk yourself out of this," he says. "You've said you don't want to do it and I've accepted your decision."

"But I feel lousy!" I cry. "Like I'm letting you down!"

"You're not," Dervish says. "Ability and potential mean nothing if the will to compete isn't there."

"But even if I had the will, you'd still be better off with the other guy, wouldn't you?" I press, hoping he'll agree.

Dervish shakes his head and doesn't answer.

The room where Meera lies unconscious. Dervish tries again to wake her. Again he fails. He returns to his study, rubbing the back of his neck. Sitting behind his desk, he runs his fingers over a phone book. "Time to call my friend," he says, glancing up at me. "Final chance to change your mind, Grubbs."

I don't say a word.

Dervish opens the book and searches for a number. "Pablo should be here within a few hours. You can go stay in the Vale if you want, but you don't need to. You'll be safe here. The demons won't be able to leave the cellar."

I don't reply. Thinking of the battle to come. Filled with shame.

"If Pablo and I defeat Lord Loss and his familiars, but I lose the one-on-one fight later," Dervish continues, "you'll have to take care of me."

"What?" I mumble.

"My body will survive if I lose the battle after the chess match," he explains, "but my soul and mind won't. I'll be able to move about, but I won't be capable of thought or speech. I won't be able to shop, pay bills, cook, clean the house, etc. You'll have to babysit me, or hire somebody to do it."

Dervish taps a drawer in his desk. "The necessary forms and information sheets are here. Names and numbers of lawyers and bankers, details of various credit accounts. You have my permission -  written as well as verbal - to manage my estate as you see fit, though a large portion will remain in the hands of your legal guardians until you come of age."

"I don't want your money," I sniff.

"You won't feel that way always," he smiles. Picks up the phone. Hesitates. Lays it down. "One last thing. If things pan out bad, I'll appear no better than a mindless robot. You might feel sorry for me, be tempted to put me out of my misery."

"I wouldn't do that!" I shout. "I'm not a killer! I couldn't - "

"You could," Dervish cuts me short. "Most people are capable of extreme actions when pushed." He licks his lips nervously. "You mustn't. Time is different in the Demonata's universe. There's no telling how long our fight could last. The few who've fought him and returned have been absent for months... years... on one occasion, decades.

"No matter how much time passes, there's always hope," he says. "Don't give up on me, Grubbs. Look after my body. I might have need of it again some day."

He finds the number in the book, picks up the phone and starts dialing.

"Wait," I stop him. He looks up expectantly. I lick my lips nervously. "What happens if you don't win and I turn into a werewolf later?"

Dervish's features soften. "And the wolf shall lie down with the lamb."

"Come again?" I frown.

"It's a biblical quote. Isaiah. It's where the Lambs got their name from." He jerks his head at the desk. "There's a black folder in the second drawer down on the left. Names and numbers for the Lambs. Contact them if the need arises. But only do it if you're sure that you're changing. The Lambs don't mess around. Once you set them in motion, they won't stop, even if you change your mind and try to call them off."

"How will I know?" I ask. "Bill-E didn't know he was changing."