The Enterprise of Death - Jesse Bullington [169]
“If escape is impossible …” Awa felt her stomach fall through her bottom, knowing she was down to her last hope, but also certain that this final possibility that had come to her in Carandini’s chamber was the key to everything, and as close to a sure thing as she would ever come.
“This page is almost used up,” he said, languidly swimming around his circle, “so unless you’ve got another piece of my skin, a piece of bone, something to prolong my visit, I’m afraid I’ll be going back to the so-called New World for a little while longer. New! I’ve been there a dozen times, but even old things are interesting with new eyes. I think we’ll go there in the flesh, you and I, once I’ve returned. I’ll be seeing you soon, little Awa, I’ll be seeing you very, very soon.”
Awa did not want to use the other page of his skin lest the means of thwarting him somehow require it, and besides that she suspected that if she broke the circle to place another artifact inside the ring he might be able to escape. There were still a few tiny scraps of the skin burning in the circle, meaning he could not flee just yet, and Awa mustered the courage to ask. She had him.
“How do I defeat you?” Awa said. “Tell me how to destroy you, to banish you from this world, to stop you from stealing my body.”
The oily shadow stopped swirling around its circle, the eye holes growing larger, the mouth hole shrinking. It shuddered violently. The features were more distinct than ever, the face in the smoke almost that of her tutor. It shook harder, and Awa realized he was afraid.
No. She heard it then, the noises he was making, and they were not fearful whimpers, desperate cries. He was laughing.
“Tell me!” Awa screamed. “You have to tell me!”
“You think I know that?!” Her tutor made a sound like a clicking tongue or a clicking bone. “Think I kept reading any grimoires that seemed to be going in that direction? Think I went out of my way to ruminate about such conundrums? Think you’re the first to ask? No no no, little Awa, why would I try to learn the answer?”
“How …” Awa’s fists were clenched. Not fair. “Where might I find an answer? Where might I look to find a way?”
“I haven’t the foggiest,” beamed the eel-like apparition. “No idea whatsoever. But you’re a clever, clever girl, so I’m sure you’ll—”
“Get fucked!” Awa shrieked. “You fucking piece of shit, I’m going to fucking end you!”
“Language!” The necromancer’s spirit recoiled. “No soap around for leagues, by the looks of you, or I’d advise you wash your mouth, young lady! But in all seriousness, we might find another way, together, you and I—”
“You’re fucking dead! Think I’m some beast for you to beat, some dog to come lick your hand after all you’ve done?! You fucking bastard! I’m going to fucking ruin you!”
“Look, this page is burned out, so I don’t have to stay any longer than I wish and if you won’t be civil—”
“Be gone! Fucker!” Awa shoved him back the way he had come, and then she was alone on the comfortable boulder by the pleasant creek winding through the scenic glade beside the burned-out house of the dead Inquisitor. “Fuck!”
Awa did not shed a single tear, nor did she waste another breath. She had perhaps half a year, and she would use it well— that she had even considered giving up made her sick. If she died, regardless of the cause, it would inconvenience him but by no means thwart him, and thwart him she fucking would.
“What in fuck witchery’s this?” Awa looked up to see Monique standing on the opposite side of the creek. “With that cunt-smack’s house a hot mess of ash an’ coal jus’ down the crick, you think profanin at the top of your lungs is best?”
“Mo?” Awa wondered if this were some resurgence of