Page 68 of Spring's Arcana
He knew why. The only surprise was that the hungry Drozdova had waited this long to make the finest meal of all, but of course the closer to full incarnation the more powerful the morsel would be. The cold calculation that could raise and fatten for consumption wasn’t the province of any one divinity; sacrifice was, after all, good fuel for any of their kind. It wasn’t even unusual for a divinity to eat their own get.
Look at that gaunt gray fuck Kronos, after all.
Stealing Dima’s property to reserve as Baba’s bribe for looking the other way during eating your own soft, innocent spawn was something else, though. The loathing sliding through his belly at the thought was a direct result of thezaika’s fragrant, helpless presence in his car, and he hated it.
His boot-toe pressed the accelerator harder.
It was no use. The knowledge could not be left behind. It rode in the car with them, tickling Dima’s ear, swelling between him and the achingly vulnerable creature trembling on the cusp of its own unfolding while she shivered once, convulsively, and swallowed silent tears.
TRY AGAIN
Maybe semi-fasting meant you didn’t have to pee, or maybe the sheer unreality of current events was keeping her from feeling biological imperatives. In any case, Dmitri didn’t stop for gas or more snacks, just hunched slightly in the driver’s seat, his hands lazily clasping the yoke and his mouth set, his eyes almost black from lid to lid, tiny crimson spatter-sparkles burning amid the darkness. The sun descended from its apex as highway signs flickered past too quick to read, the car thrum-hummed in Nat’s head until she was sure she was going to throw up before the pressure suddenly eased all at once like a fever breaking, and the landscape began to fold away into sere fields and rolling hills on either side.
She fell into a thin troubled doze as afternoon wore on, and slept through sunset filling the windshield with orange glare so thick nothing of the road could be seen. When she woke with a jolt, lit streetlamps leapfrogged by on either side, dusk was purple and gray in every corner, and the shape of the signs had changed once again. Her neck wasn’t too happy, since the engine-sound slid from her temple—pressed against the window’s thin glass skin—all the way down the right side of her body, taking a powder in her hip before jabbing down her right leg like the sciatica Pat the Humboldt office admin was always bemoaning.
They probably didn’t even notice she was gone; turnover was high in retail and call-center trenches. She’d never gripe with Sandra at lunch again, or meet Jon’s wide hazel eyes across the room and exchange a shrug, corral one of Bob’s lunatic managerial impulses, orbe invited out for a beer—not that she ever went, wanting to get through any shift as soon as possible in order to go home, or to the hospice.
She almost winced. Thinking of Mom in the hospice was reflexive, and now she couldn’t do it without hearing Dmitri sneer.
You think Maria Drozdova would do this for you?
The car bumped, floating as the world sped away underneath. Its tires touched the road again, their hum changing, and she realized the black beast was slowing. Streetlights stopped smearing against the windows, separating into distinct glowing globes, and either traffic was thickening around them or they were sliding back into the dimension where normal people drove at normal speeds. Headlights glared, brake lights popped into view, and she braced herself for a fresh jolt of strangeness or more of Dmitri’s hateful bullshit.
They finally slowed enough for her to read the signs, and she let out a soft breath. “Waterloo.” Her eyes refused to focus for a moment, then the shapes made sense. “We’re inIowa?”
“You even slept through Chicago.” The dashboard lights turned Dmitri’s face into a much older man’s for a moment, hollows under his dark eyes and his hair gleaming. His mouth turned down bitterly at both corners. “We can stop here, or in Sioux City. If you want.”
“What time is it?”
“Just after dark.” One shoulder lifted slightly and dropped; he was, the small movement said, not wearing a watch and didn’t feel the need to start.
Watches were probably for “rubes,” though he’d had one the night of the party. Apparently he didn’t have a smartphone to check the time, either.
Nat pointed her toes, stretching as the car slowed to regular old freeway speed, and the strange floating feeling behind her breastbone vanished. Her head was a lot clearer now. “Can’t believe I slept through Chicago.” Here she was, out of the Big Apple for the first time, and she’d missed one of the more important sights along the way.
She probably wouldn’t have been able to see it with the car moving at warp speed, though. Just how fast could he travel?
And could she do the same?
“We could go back.” Dima grinned, but the expression lacked its usual edge.
She dropped her feet, trying to stretch her back without moving enough to draw more of his attention—or his ire. “I’m not complaining.”
“I know.” Did he sound aggravated? Road trips were supposed to be hard on the temper, and his wasn’t too patient to begin with. Maybe it came with being a divinity of gangsters, or thieves. Did he have an older brother who did assassinations?
It was a terrible thought.
“I just think maybezaikalike to see the sights is all,” Dmitri continued, and glanced at her. “Bet you feelin’ good. Not hungry, not thirsty, eh?”
How did you know?“Is it the car?” It didn’t qualify as a stupid question, she hoped. Even her fingers felt better, humming with energy as if she was a kid again, a restless ball of curiosity with her hands caught in Leo’s as he taught her to walk.
“Incarnation.” Another sideways look, his long nose wrinkling a little. “Littlezaikamust be confused.”
“I’m trying to keep up.” She aimed for Mom’s dry, ironic tone when Maria could be persuaded to play gin with Leo at the kitchen table.Incarnationsounded very Catholic, and if she ever went back to Mother Mary Elementary again, she’d tell the sisters a few things.
“I take you to place I know. We get a drink.” The car bounced again, engine noise dropping into an even deeper register, and he swerved for an exit.
Again, she didn’t grab at the dash, but it was close.I don’t want a drink, thanks.If his car could all but fly and neither of them needed the bathroom, they could just drive right through.
