Even Hell Has Knights (Hellsong) (15 page)

Mancini sat down upon his mattress and leaned back against the wall. His bed smelled of his own sweat, though the aroma was too familiar to be off-putting. His room was dark, kept so by a thick window tapestry. It didn’t help as much as he’d like.

In his hands he held a colorless Rubik’s cube. The person who gave it to him had said it was an old world joke, an “idiot’s cube,” because no matter which way someone turned it
, the puzzle had still been solved. At first Mancini had meant to add colors to it, to make it a proper cube, but in the end he found something much more challenging.

He’d imagine the colors.

He painted one side red with his mind, the others orange, green, yellow, white and blue. He’d twist the cube around and try to remember which colors went where. Then he’d reverse his motions and try to align the colors together. After a year of this, he no longer even needed the cube itself. He loved it when he’d forgotten which moves he’d made to tangle the colors up, yet was still somehow able to solve it again.

But now he was having trouble keeping the colors straight in his head. Now his thoughts were interrupted by the startling image of Benson’s bloodshot eyes. Now the jubilant shouts of the villagers, who were celebrating the First Citizen’s victory, were distracting him.

What are the odds that Michael would find a spider? What are the odds he’d survive?

Mancini closed his eyes and ran one hand through his thick, black hair.

What are the odds that Aaron would come to me for help with Benson?

His room was on the first story of the Fore, and the hunters often leaned upon his wall
to speak and gamble. Mancini guessed they had no idea how often it was that he eavesdropped.

It was Martin and Duncan who were speaking now.

Mancini tossed the cube across his bed and listened.

“He was amazing,”
Duncan was saying.
“We were just out, wandering like normal down some corridors I hadn’t been down in months.”

“Which ones?”

“By the Canyon, all the way out to the Pole road.”

“That place has been dry for months,”
Martin said.

“I know, right? At first I thought he was crazy. Admittedly, he hadn’t been out in the wilds for years or whatnot. About midway through the day he must have smelled something. Heard something. Sensed
something. I don’t know what, but he knew it was bad. He motioned us back, told us to keep a good distance. Avery was worried, but he remembered how good Michael was. We didn’t know. We’d never seen him hunt. He found this crawlway that went down. I don’t know how the hell he spotted it. Even Aaron wouldn’t have seen that shit.

“He goes down
, and then there’s some gunfire. It’s a good thing he brought that monster Winchester. Avery goes rushing in. Fitch didn’t want to go, but I couldn’t let them be down there all alone. Shouldn’t have worried. By the time we got there it was all over. Spider guts everywhere, man. Michael had to take a dip in the river to get that shit off of him.”

“How much food is there?”

“That’s the crazy part. That spider was huge. Michael’s not exaggerating when he said that the eggs could fill a hovel. More than that. The spider’s body itself could fill a hovel. It was hell carrying that leg back. Its leg hairs kept getting caught in my hair. Juices dripping down the back of my pants leg.

“I’m telling you, Martin, there’s a reason Michael’s First Citizen. He didn’t get it just sitting on his ass, that’s for sure. That man can hunt.”

Mancini opened his eyes and cleared his mind.

None of the plans he’d devised to help deal with Michael’s failure would be particularly appropriate now.

We’ll all be happy. The villagers are fed, the Citizens won’t have pressure to give up the Fore’s stores.

He heard girls laughing outside. One was calling Martin’s name.

It can’t last. It won’t take long for the village to eat through the spider.

Michael had only postponed things, he decided. Hell was still disturbingly empty of devils. There still wasn’t enough to feed the Citizens and the villagers.

He’d just have to wait.

Arturus watched as fresh steam soared up from the hotplates. Rick was using one of Galen’s masonry chisels to tenderize the dyitzu flank he was preparing.

“Those knights are looking good,” Rick said as he pounded out the meat. “You make them today?”

“Been working on this one all morning. I had a couple of missteps. I’m going to have to go out and gather some more sandstone to grind at this rate.”

“Can’t argue with the final result though.”

“Wait till I make the black ones.”

Rick smiled and poured another cup of water on the plates. “I think you’re turning out to be a fine artist, Turi. Have you seen Galen yet this morning?”

“No.”

“He was down at Harpsborough earlier today. Can you get him up for breakfast? I think he’s napping.”

Arturus grumbled to himself and got up from his chair.

“And can y
ou fill the urn?” Rick added, “I’m almost out of water.”

Arturus paced back across the battery room, grabbed the urn, and went out into the hallway. He wandered over to Galen’s door tapestry.

“Galen,” he called.

“Yes.” Galen’s voice was alert.

Arturus had a pet theory that, along with his beard never needing to be trimmed, Galen didn’t need to sleep. “Rick asked me to tell you that he’s making breakfast.”

Galen’s head pee
ked out from around the tapestry, sniffing the air. “Is that dyitzu he’s cooking?”

“Sure is. And he’s using one of your chisels on the meat.”

“Then he must fall,” Galen said.

Arturus laughed and headed out for the river.

“Turi,” Galen said.

“Yeah?”

“The gravel’s starting to heal itself together, will you make sure to rake it sometime today?”

Everybody has something for me to do.

Rick’s cooking wasn’t done by the time Arturus returned with the water, so he went to the closet to get the gravel rake. Galen was standing at the counter, cutting up some knowledge fruit. Arturus watched, hypnotized by his father’s motion as the man diced the fruit into small cubes and then dropped them into the boiling devilwheat-meal.

“Not yet, Turi,” Galen said to him as he reached for the rake.

Arturus didn’t need to be told twice.

“I was in Harpsborough today,” Galen said.

“Anything new?” Arturus asked.

“Michael came back a day or so ago. Killed a spider.”

Rick whistled. “Well, good for him. I knew he had it in him.”

Arturus had never seen a spider. He’d only eaten their eggs. He hoped those creatures didn’t hold grudges.

Galen nodded. “Michael did well. They’ve got expeditions going back and forth between the village and wherever it made its web. Probably going to feed Harpsborough for a month.”

“That’s great,” Arturus said. “Makes it easier to trade.”

“Are you going to the village today?” Galen asked.

Arturus felt very adult answering this question. The fact that Galen asked it meant that it was Arturus’ decision about whether or not he’d go.

“Yeah, I wanted to get his okay on the knights. I’m going to try and make the black one in a little bit. If Rick leaves any of the battery left for me.”

Rick shot him a squint-eyed glance as he stirred the near boiling devilwheat-meal.

Galen laughed. “You should take Ellen with you. This food boom has their spirits up. You might be able to get Michael to take her as a villager.”

“I hope so. Did you know she came over to have me kill a corpse for her the other day?”

“Did she really?” Rick said with a laugh.

Arturus nodded, watching as Galen began preparing another knowledge fruit.

“She gathered these for us,” Galen said. “Said it was thanks for helping her out. Was the corpse much trouble?”

“No,” Arturus answered. “She said it was wandering in the knowledge fruit, though.”

Galen stopped cutting and looked at the fruit suspiciously.

“Hey,” Rick said, “if it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger, right?”

Aaron nodded to the hunters on morning watch and hurried out towards the river. He caught up with Molly before she made it to the river room.

“Molly, wait!” he called.

Molly turned around, smiling. “Hey, boy! Why are you chasing me down all alone in a place like this?”

“I need to know, Molly. What’s going on with Benson?”

Her smile disappeared. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Don’t joke with me, Molly. I don’t need to know names. I just need to know if it’s Maab, or something like that. If it’s just one of us the
n
. .
.
”

Molly pulled her brown hair over one of her shoulders and started working out the tangles. “Well, come protect me while I pee. Then maybe I’ll tell you.”

“This is serious.”

“So is being attacked in the river room.”

Aaron rolled his eyes and followed her. They waited for a girl there to gather her water in one of Kylie’s urns. When they were alone, Molly pulled up her skirt and squatted by the river.

Aaron looked away.

“Why look away?” Molly teased. “Not like you haven’t seen what I’ve got.”

“I’m not the slightest bit interested.”

“I bet not.” He could hear the tinkle of her piss in the river as she spoke. “I probably bruised your ego pretty badly, huh? Still disappointed that your extra forearm wasn’t enough for me?”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

“Oh, how do you remember it? Do
tell
me.”

“Can we be serious for a second?”

“I am being serious. You’re probably also feeling a little insecure about how well Michael did on the hunt.”

The tinkling continued.

“I’m happy he found the food, Molly. We’re all hungry.”

“I bet.”

He heard her stand. He turned around, a little too quickly.

She was about how he remembered her. A little skinnier, perhaps, probably from being deprived of the fruits of the Fore.

“Enjoy the show?” she asked him.

“It was great,” Aaron said. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

She laughed and adjusted her skirt. “What, you’re not attracted to me anymore?” Her eyes mimicked tragic disappointment.

“Not even remotely.”

“I bet you’re just afraid I’d tell Alice.”

Aaron nodded. “And the rest of the village. Now what’s going on, Molly. Or if you don’t know, just admit it.”

“You and Davel have been banging your heads against the wall about that one, haven’t you?”

“Basically.”

“It’s not your fault you can’t figure out why someone would do it, Aaron. You don’t think like a scoundrel. Dusting Benson, just leaving him there, it wouldn’t do anyone any good. Distractions are only useful if you can control them. You know, make them start when you need them to.”

“That’s just the thing,” Aaron said. “Who knows when he’ll die?”

Molly shook her head and pursed her lips. She bent down to the river, dipped a hand in the water, and used it to clean herself.

“Jesus,” Aaron said, looking away again.

“See, I told you, you’re too good a man. Whoever was using him as a distraction would only have to kill him to set him off.”

“Okay. Distraction for what?”

“There’s only one thing in that village worth raiding.”

“Staunten’s storeroom?” He looked back at her.

Molly nodded. “You got it, cowboy.”

“But that wouldn’t make any sense,” Aaron protested. “After the fighting was done, people would be running out of the Fore to see what was going on. It’d be almost impossible to sneak in with everyone running out.”