Blood Red Road Page 46

Did not, I says.

Uh … I think we’l jest start on up to the tavern, says Ash. Her, Epona an Emmi disappear.

Jack gives me a hard look. You make my brain hurt, he says.

An yer the most pu ed-up, big-headed swagger boots I ever met, I says. I got news fer you, Jack. You ain’t so great. You ain’t great at al .

Not even the slightest bit! If it warn’t fer you an yer stupid plan to go see yer stupid friend in some stupid tavern, I wouldn’t of ended up in the river in the first place!

Oh, I know what this is about, he says. This is about Ash agin.

It is not! Anyways, I couldn’t give two hoots about you an Ash or you an anybody else!

There ain’t nobody else! he yel s. It’s al in yer tiny lit le mind! You know what you need?

Yeah! I need you to shove of an leave me alone! I yel back.

No! What you need is to lighten up! My gawd, if yer out a yer mind, I must be out a mine even more! An you know why? Fer even thinkin fer a moment that you an me could of—

Could of what?

Dammit, Saba, I thought we could have a good time together! You know … I’d help you find yer brother an you an me ’ud … you know.

No! I don’t know, Jack! What the hel ’re you talkin about?

What I’m talkin about … is this!

He hauls me to him, grabs my face an kisses me.

He hauls me to him, grabs my face an kisses me.

I hold my hands away from me, sti . At rst, from shock. But now to keep ’em away from Jack. They’re itchin to touch him. Al over. His arms, his face, his back, his chest. I cain’t let ’em.

I give him a shove. He goes sprawlin backwards into the mud.

What was that fer? he yel s.

Fer kissin me! I yel . An don’t you dare do it agin!

Oh don’t you worry about that, he says, I’d rather throw myself over that waterfal !

He picks hisself up.

I’d rather sleep naked in a nest of scorpions! he says.

He stomps of , leadin Ajax behind him.

I fol ow with Hermes.

My lips is tinglin.

The faded sign creaks on its hinges. The painted head of a man glares down at us, a bloody hole where one of his eyes oughta be.

Here we are, says Jack. Welcome to the One-Eyed Man.

The dark stone tavern hunches, low an mean-lookin, into the side of the mountain. Rain sheets down its saggin roof an pours over the edge. A pale thread of smoke trickles out a the chimley.

It don’t look too welcomin to me, says Ash.

I don’t like it, says Emmi.

Yer jest cold an tired, says Jack. Once you git a bowl of Ike’s rock squirrel stew inside you, things’l look a lot brighter.

We lead the horses to a lean-to. There’s a few horses there already, includin a big piebald mustang an a sturdy lit le gray donkey huddled together fer warmth. They flick their ears an whicker softly as we tie our horses next to ’em.

See? says Jack. We ain’t th’only ones here. We’l git set led in first, then we can deal with the gear an the horses.

There’s a candle burnin in th’only window, a narrow slit set halfways along the wal . Jack rings the bel beside the bat ered old wood door. Right away, the candle goes out.

Looks like yer friend Ike don’t want company, I says.

Probly heard you was comin, says Jack, al sour faced.

He tries the rusty latch. It don’t move. He bangs on the door with his fist. Thud thud thud. Thud thud thud.

Ike! he shouts. Ike Twelvetrees! It’s me! It’s Jack! Let me in!

Nuthin.

Hey! Open up! I yel an pound on the door. I go to try an shoulder it open, but Jack holds me back.

Hang on, he says. There’s a knack to it. He leans back, lifts his leg an gives the door a almighty kick. It ies open. He goes in an we trail behind.

We see ’em right away.

I snatch my crossbow an take aim.

Beside me, Ash an Epona do the same.

Hold fire! says Jack.

My heart pounds wildly. We keep our crossbows up, bowstrings drawn, arrows ready to fly.

We stare at the men who face us, their weapons at the ready. There’s at least twelve of ’em. On their feet, with blades, bows an intsticks pointed straight at us. They’re the most scurfy lookin pack of vil ains I ever seen in my life. A knife scar here, a eyepatch there, busted noses, missin ears, three fingers. They make the low-life scum of Hopetown look sweet as spring clover.

I do a quick sweep of the room. Take everythin in. It’s one long room with a low ceilin. The replace in the center’s got a blazin re goin.

In front of the fire, there’s a large table with a stewpot in the middle an stone drink kegs.

Wooden benches lay on their sides. Kicked over when they al jumped up.

There ain’t no sound but the cracklin fire an the rain poundin down on the roof.

Hel o boys, says Jack. Nice to see y’al .

Jest then, a man comes through a door in the corner that I didn’t notice before. He’s tal , at least six ve, six six. He’s got a huge plat er of roasted meat hefted onto one shoulder. He don’t even look our way as he goes over to the table an dumps the plat er down. Then he starts over to us.

Ike! says Jack. He steps forwards, smilin a big smile an holdin out his hand. Hey man, long time no see!

But Ike don’t smile back. An he don’t take Jack’s hand.

He walks straight up to him an punches him in the face.

Jack goes sprawlin on the floor.

Jack’s down. Hurt. The red hot rips through me. I ain’t felt it since Hopetown.

I aim my bow at Ike an walk at him—fast—til he’s backed aginst the wal with his hands on top of his head. I press the arrowhead into his throat. He gulps.

There’s a quick rush of feet an the men surround my back. Without takin my eyes o a Ike, I can feel their weapons pointed at me. Hear their breathin.

It’s al right, Saba, Jack cal s. Don’t kil him. I deserved it.

Tel these dogs to stand down, I says to Ike.

Weapons down, boys, or supper’s of , he says. He don’t move his eyes from mine.

There’s a pause, then a clat er as guns an bows an knives hit the floor behind me.

Epona? I says.

Epona? I says.

Yer okay, she says. It’s al clear.

I step back from Ike. Lower my bow. He feels his throat. Grins an shakes his head.

Gawdammit, he says. I bin waitin fer a woman like you my whole life. Jack, I think I’m in love.

Ferget it, Ike, says Jack. She’s far too dangerous fer the likes of you.

Oh, says Ike, it’s that way, is it?

He goes over to Jack, reaches down a hand an gives him a tug up. Jack rubs his jaw where Ike punched him.

Don’t worry, says Ike, I didn’t do yer pret y face no harm. I should of though. After what you done to me.

He glares at Jack an Jack actual y looks shame-faced. Ike jabs him in the chest with a big meaty finger.

You left me, you sonofabitch, he says, hangin upside down, stark naked, with al them women in their—

Jack grabs his hand. Not now, Ike, he says. We’l talk about it later.

Not to mention the time you was supposed to meet me at Pat O’Dooley’s an I waited there like a stooky fer two months, with that lit le dog of his that’s always bitin at yer ankles, an al the time you was of with that—

Ike! Jack yel s, pointin at the vil ains at the table. Look! He’s takin seconds!