sort of agreement.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I won’t be staying to oversee personally, of course. The technology in this world is ghastly, gives me a frightful headache. I’ve no idea how you stand it.”
Now
I
smiled, even if there wasn’t a lotta good humor in it.
“I prefer the neighbors here.”
“Of course.” Pretty sure she caught the insult and decided to ignore it. “Mr. Téimhneach will remain here. You report to him, and should consider his words to be mine.”
“So I should ask him to say everything three times?”
She
kept
ignoring. Seemed pretty good at it.
“Should circumstances not permit you to speak with him,” she continued, “you’ll answer to Mr. Grangullie instead, who will also remain as Mr. Téimhneach’s lieutenant—” I couldn’t begin to tell you how, what with the whole no eyes thing, but I swear she suddenly focused on me, hard “—and enforcer.”
Translation: Step outta line, gum anything up, and my next assignment would be carrying the redcap’s bullets for him.
Judging by the smirk on Grangullie’s trap, he was looking forward to it.
“You see,” Téimhneach said, leaning in to put a “friendly” mitt on my shoulder, “why it would have been
such
a poor idea for us to get off on the wrong foot?”
The only
right
foot is the one I’m gonna put so far up your keister you’ll be gargling toenail for a week, you lousy…
“Yeah, I hear ya.”
Guess they were done, ’cause the carriage rattled to a halt.
“Last stop,” Queen Mob announced cheerfully.
Door creaked open by itself again, which is even
less
impressive when you’re waitin’ for it. This time, the dark beyond it was just a normal dark, a shabby side street somewhere in the Windy City, with old newspapers and broken boxes and a busted streetlamp.
Oh, and redcaps. A
pack
of redcaps. A few of ’em had brass Tommies, like their boss, though most of those lacked bayonets (and the one bayonet I
could
see was a steak knife). The rest had empty hands, but bulges in their badly fitting coats announcing
some
kinda gat or other. And all of ’em had cleavers, or similar hacking blades, dangling from their belts.
I stopped myself from looking to see how fresh the blood was soaking their hats. Wouldn’t do me any good to know.
Climbed outta the carriage, which gave me a better slant on the welcoming committee, and… Huh. Not just redcaps, either.
Looming behind ’em, near invisible in the dark, were at least a couple of
dullahan
—tall, dressed in horseman’s rags, and headless. They
also
cradled brass choppers, but these guns had special baskets built on ’em to hold the
dullahan
’s noggins.
They didn’t often miss, I’ll tell you.
I thought I heard something whooshing and swooping above, maybe a handful of
sluagh
, but no way I could see for sure without magic. And I didn’t think the whole mass of walking psychosis around me would appreciate it much if I made any sudden moves.
“You cats startin’ a social club?” I asked Téimhneach.
Damn boggart was
still
smiling, all affable and whatnot. I wanted to sock him one on the chin.
With a girder.
“We just wanted you to see, Mr. Oberon, what sorts of resources you… have at your disposal.”
“At my disposal.” Meaning ready and willing to dispose of me. “Right. Cute.”
Huh. Carriage was gone. Okay,
that
was noteworthy; I shoulda felt
something
when it left, even through the veil.
And it was while I was hunting around for the coach that I finally got wise to where I was. You’ll have to excuse it taking so long. I didn’t know the alley, couldn’t see real far beyond it, so it took until I got a good whiff of the neighborhood, a solid sense of its aura, and a peek at the stars.
45th or 47th, somewhere between Racine and Halsted, if I wasn’t turned around completely daffy by now.
“You mugs know that this ain’t where you picked me up, right?” I said. “Least you could do is save me the trip you interrupted, not
“Uh-huh.”
“I won’t be staying to oversee personally, of course. The technology in this world is ghastly, gives me a frightful headache. I’ve no idea how you stand it.”
Now
I
smiled, even if there wasn’t a lotta good humor in it.
“I prefer the neighbors here.”
“Of course.” Pretty sure she caught the insult and decided to ignore it. “Mr. Téimhneach will remain here. You report to him, and should consider his words to be mine.”
“So I should ask him to say everything three times?”
She
kept
ignoring. Seemed pretty good at it.
“Should circumstances not permit you to speak with him,” she continued, “you’ll answer to Mr. Grangullie instead, who will also remain as Mr. Téimhneach’s lieutenant—” I couldn’t begin to tell you how, what with the whole no eyes thing, but I swear she suddenly focused on me, hard “—and enforcer.”
Translation: Step outta line, gum anything up, and my next assignment would be carrying the redcap’s bullets for him.
Judging by the smirk on Grangullie’s trap, he was looking forward to it.
“You see,” Téimhneach said, leaning in to put a “friendly” mitt on my shoulder, “why it would have been
such
a poor idea for us to get off on the wrong foot?”
The only
right
foot is the one I’m gonna put so far up your keister you’ll be gargling toenail for a week, you lousy…
“Yeah, I hear ya.”
Guess they were done, ’cause the carriage rattled to a halt.
“Last stop,” Queen Mob announced cheerfully.
Door creaked open by itself again, which is even
less
impressive when you’re waitin’ for it. This time, the dark beyond it was just a normal dark, a shabby side street somewhere in the Windy City, with old newspapers and broken boxes and a busted streetlamp.
Oh, and redcaps. A
pack
of redcaps. A few of ’em had brass Tommies, like their boss, though most of those lacked bayonets (and the one bayonet I
could
see was a steak knife). The rest had empty hands, but bulges in their badly fitting coats announcing
some
kinda gat or other. And all of ’em had cleavers, or similar hacking blades, dangling from their belts.
I stopped myself from looking to see how fresh the blood was soaking their hats. Wouldn’t do me any good to know.
Climbed outta the carriage, which gave me a better slant on the welcoming committee, and… Huh. Not just redcaps, either.
Looming behind ’em, near invisible in the dark, were at least a couple of
dullahan
—tall, dressed in horseman’s rags, and headless. They
also
cradled brass choppers, but these guns had special baskets built on ’em to hold the
dullahan
’s noggins.
They didn’t often miss, I’ll tell you.
I thought I heard something whooshing and swooping above, maybe a handful of
sluagh
, but no way I could see for sure without magic. And I didn’t think the whole mass of walking psychosis around me would appreciate it much if I made any sudden moves.
“You cats startin’ a social club?” I asked Téimhneach.
Damn boggart was
still
smiling, all affable and whatnot. I wanted to sock him one on the chin.
With a girder.
“We just wanted you to see, Mr. Oberon, what sorts of resources you… have at your disposal.”
“At my disposal.” Meaning ready and willing to dispose of me. “Right. Cute.”
Huh. Carriage was gone. Okay,
that
was noteworthy; I shoulda felt
something
when it left, even through the veil.
And it was while I was hunting around for the coach that I finally got wise to where I was. You’ll have to excuse it taking so long. I didn’t know the alley, couldn’t see real far beyond it, so it took until I got a good whiff of the neighborhood, a solid sense of its aura, and a peek at the stars.
45th or 47th, somewhere between Racine and Halsted, if I wasn’t turned around completely daffy by now.
“You mugs know that this ain’t where you picked me up, right?” I said. “Least you could do is save me the trip you interrupted, not
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