THE GOUT OF balefire obliterates both of their heads, just shears them off the necks underneath.
I rack the slide, then drop the shotgun back into the coat locked and loaded.
I hear Javier yelling something, but it’s muffled and distant, my ears shut from the blast I just fired.
I’m ignoring him anyway, I have to do this before I change my mind.
The bodies slide sideways, still wrapped around each other. I drop to my knees beside them and the coat puts the Aqedah in my hand the second it slips into the pocket. A handful of that ratty yellow robe lets me pull Hastur’s body closer.
The skinhound is there, across the body from me, watching as he noses the body of the dead god. Wisps of smoke come off the charred flesh at the stump of the neck. The skinhound licks it experimentally.
He whuffs and jumps back like a real dog with a snout full of pepper.
“Good boy,” I say.
The Aqedah goes into Hastur’s chest just as easy as it has gone into everything else. I pull it down, slicing hard, making a big opening. I push up the sleeve of the coat, take a deep breath, and shove my hand inside.
It’s like shoving my hand in a deep vat of moist compost.
There isn’t any structure; it’s just mealy, mushy stuff that feels like dirt. Occasionally there is a hard spot that brushes against my arm, but mostly it’s just cool moistness.
Come on. You all have one.
The side of my hand knocks against something hard and round.
Gotcha.
The thing rolls over my wrist when I try to grab it, swinging like a pendulum. It takes a few grabs to get it. Once I do I drag it out.
As the stuff inside Hastur that coats my arm hits the air it liquifies and runs rivulets down my arm.
Ugh.
The thing I pull out is a white sphere. Thin lines, like hairline cracks, swirl around the surface. I feel it pulse in my hand, laden with a slow thudding power.
The soul gem of the King in Yellow.
“Charlie.”
It’s Javier’s voice.
“Charlie, he’s awake.”
Wait.
Daniel.
I pocket the soul gem and stand, shaking the ichor of Hastur (say that three times fast) off my arm. The skinhound bumps me before I can take a step.
I push back with my thigh and he bumps me harder.
I look down at him.
The coat sings and I get it.
“You’re with me?” I ask the vivisected canine by my side.
He answers with a yip.
All right then.
I move over to Javier and Daniel, who is sitting up on the bed now. He’s thin, so thin, compared to how he looked before, but his eyes are bright and clear.
“Hey, Charlie,” he says. Damn, his little crooked smile gets me.
“Hey.”
He moves his head, looking around pointedly. “Seems like some weird shit has happened.”
“More than I’d like.”
He nods and his bangs fall over his eyes. He blows them up out of the way. “You look good.”
“Baby”—it feels right calling him that—“I look terrible.”
“Well, yeah, but it seems like a million years since I’ve seen you.”
“You’ve been away for a while.”
“Not a million years, I hope.”
“No, not that long.”
“Good.” He smiles a little again and takes a deep breath. “I’m still pretty tired.”
“You can rest.” Oh god. “Javier will watch over you.”
“Javier?” he asks.
Javier moves around beside me. “Hey, Daniel.”
“Hey. Okay.” He squints at Javier. “I don’t know you, do I?”
“No, esse, but we cool.”
Daniel looks at me.
“You two are cool,” I assure him.
Daniel nods. “Solid.”
I take a deep breath. This is hard. Getting harder.
“You did it,” Daniel says.
“Did what?”
“Won.”
Fuck.
He looks at my face. “What is it?”
“I have to go.”
“It’s not over?”
“No.” Not by a long shot.
He pushes to stand. The bed rolls a little and Javier catches it before it gets away. The movement makes Daniel’s hospital gown rise and I look up at his eyes before it gets too high.
I’m not ready for anything like that.
And I have to go.
“Daniel…”
“Let’s go,” he says.
“You can’t. I’m sending you with Javier.”
“Dammit, Charlie,” he says.
I put my hand on his chest and he stops. I reach over and touch Javier on his arm.
“I love you, Daniel; that’s why I have to try and stop him.”
“Let me…”
“Javier, take care of him.”
“Okay, chica.” Javier grins.
Daniel grabs the coat. Tears roll down his face. “Charlie, I love you; I just got you back; don’t do this.”
“I love you.” Over my shoulder I say to the skinhound, “Stay.”
Now.
The coat furls around the three of us, wrapping us tightly as I pick my place and wish. The remnants of Ashtoreth’s essence bubble up from inside me and we slide sideways across space, protected by the coat.
The moment we hit linoleum the coat opens and I smell that hospital smell. The room looks the same and it’s empty, which is good. Daniel and Javier stagger a few steps away as the coat opens. Daniel turns, looking at me with an expression that cuts me to the core.
“Don’t go,” he says.
I take one last long look at him, memorizing every detail that I can, as the coat closes around me. One wish and I’m moving back to Carcosa.
The skinhound waits where I left him.
“Ready to go?” I ask him.
He bounces his skull up and down in what looks like a nod. I crouch, draping the coat over him and pulling him close. My chest is tight, but I keep moving, keep working, to keep from crying.
The bracelet that was on Hastur’s wrist is in my right hand. I spit on the Mark there, the body fluid really kicking the magick into gear. The torc tightens around my throat as I trace the Man in Black, the one who owned this jewelry he used to control Hastur. The line stretches far, far away, pulled as thin as a strand of spider silk.
But it is still attached.
I find him, a crimson pinprick on the velvet of the universe.
The coat singsongs around it.
Yes, it’s a long way. You can stay; you don’t have to go; just give me my weapons.
The song in my brain turns harsh, scouring around the edges of my brainpan, and I hear that it won’t abandon me.
And fuck me for thinking it would.
Okay, okay, sheesh.
I reach in and take hold of the Hastur gem, letting its smooth surface fill my palm. The power in it throbs, making the bones of my wrist ache.
I hope it’s enough as I fixate on the Man in Black and make my wish.
If not we will be stranded somewhere in the middle of the universe.
I take a deep breath and begin to draw in the power of the gem, making my magick go bubbly and acidic in my veins.
Get ready you red-handed son of a bitch, ’cause here I come.