Left Hand Magic (26 page)
Authors: Nancy A. Collins
“Well, you no longer have anything to fear from her. She’s in custody now, awaiting arraignment in the Tombs.”
“Did she admit to summoning the infernal?” Hexe asked.
“Of course not!” the PTU officer said with a dismissive laugh. “She claims it’s all a big misunderstanding, just like they always do. Well, I best get back to work—I just thought you’d want to hear the good news in person.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” I said gratefully. “I appreciate you taking the time out of your schedule.”
“It’s no problem, really,” she replied as she headed out the door. “I already had to stop by to take a report on a drowning. An ipotane got drunk and took a long stagger off a short pier early this morning. Take care, now.”
“Oh, God—it was real.” I groaned. “I hoped I was hallucinating. Poor Gus . . .”
“Wasn’t he the ipotane you spoke to in the centaur’s funeral procession?” Hexe asked with a frown.
I nodded. “I thought I recognized him in the ER earlier, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know Gus that well, but I liked him. He was so upset over Bayard’s death—but I can’t imagine him committing suicide.”
“It probably was an accident,” Hexe said consolingly. “Ipotanes
do
have a reputation for getting so drunk they can’t walk straight. They’re not as bad as satyrs, mind you, but it’s not unheard of for one of them to overindulge and fall into the river.”
do
have a reputation for getting so drunk they can’t walk straight. They’re not as bad as satyrs, mind you, but it’s not unheard of for one of them to overindulge and fall into the river.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your friend,” Lady Syra said as she gathered up her purse, “but I’m relieved they apprehended the responsible party. However, that doesn’t mean things are any less dangerous for you. Still, if anyone was to protect you, I can’t imagine a worthier bodyguard than my son. We can only hope this unpleasantness with my brother and his political agenda is resolved relatively quickly, and then everything can get back to normal.”
“Syra—before you go, do you mind telling me how it is that you happen to know my mother?”
“I’m afraid my answering that would violate privilege,” she replied apprehensively.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” the Witch Queen said with a weary smile, “that is a question you should ask your mother—not me.”
Chapter 21
N
ot long after Lady Syra made her exit, I was visited by an older Kymeran gentleman in a white coat with hair the color of celadon who smelled of cedar and bay leaves. Judging from the laminated ID dangling about his neck, he was a hospital administrator.
ot long after Lady Syra made her exit, I was visited by an older Kymeran gentleman in a white coat with hair the color of celadon who smelled of cedar and bay leaves. Judging from the laminated ID dangling about his neck, he was a hospital administrator.
“Good afternoon, Miss—Eresby,” he said, checking the clipboard he was holding. “My name is Dr. Voit. I’m the chief of medicine here at Golgotham General. I just stopped by to get your signature on this release form, and to make sure you’ve been treated well during your stay.”
“Your staff has been very professional and attentive,” I assured him, as I signed my name at the bottom of the form. “The hospital where I had my appendectomy could take a few lessons from this place. How much do I owe you?”
“Emergency Room admittances are no charge in Golgotham,” he explained.
“Please tell Dr. Gyre I appreciate all he did.” Hexe smiled as he shook the doctor’s hand.
“I’ll be sure to pass that along, Serenity. By the way—I used to work with your uncle, back in the old days.”
“Esau was employed at Golgotham General?” Hexe asked in surprise.
Dr. Voit nodded. “He worked in tandem with Dr. Moot, replacing limbs. Esau created these amazing clockwork arms, and Moot melded them to the patient’s nervous system in such a way that some of the patients actually regained the sense of touch! That was a while back, though—before Moot’s addiction destroyed his ability to conduct psychic surgery, and long before the incident with poor Nita turned Esau into a cacozealot. Sad business, that.”
“Nita?” Hexe frowned.
“Your uncle’s wife,” Dr. Voit replied matter-of-factly. “She was killed by humans, if memory serves.”
“Don’t you love it when your family goes for decades without telling you shit like that?” I grunted as Hexe helped me into a cab parked in the hospital’s loading zone. Ever since he’d inadvertently discovered an aunt he never knew existed, he had been noticeably pensive, and I decided it was best to draw him out.
“It certainly explains a lot about my uncle,” he conceded, gazing up at the looming silhouettes of the World Trade Center in the distance. “It doesn’t
excuse
any of his behavior, mind you, but it
does
make it easier to understand.”
excuse
any of his behavior, mind you, but it
does
make it easier to understand.”
He paused, then said, “I’ve known Dori for a long time—we grew up together. I have a hard time imagining her sending forth a demon to do her bidding, much less an infernal courtier.”
“I realize you two have a lot of history,” I said gingerly, “but I don’t think Dori is the same woman you used to know. She’s changed, Hexe.”
Hexe shook his head. “You don’t understand, Tate. I’m not saying she’s
above
doing such things. I’m saying she’s
incapable
of doing them. I can easily believe Dori would try to inflict a curse on you. But to send a demon after you?
Please!
She’s simply not that adept a sorceress!”
above
doing such things. I’m saying she’s
incapable
of doing them. I can easily believe Dori would try to inflict a curse on you. But to send a demon after you?
Please!
She’s simply not that adept a sorceress!”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to write her off,” I countered. “Maybe we ought to go talk to her, though, just in case she’s gotten a lot stronger than you realize.”
“Good idea,” he said. “There’s something not right about all this, and I mean to find out what it is.”
The Golgotham Hall of Justice and Detention Center, better known as the Tombs, was located on the outermost edge of the neighborhood, closer to Manhattan’s City Hall and One Police Plaza than Golgotham’s seat of government. This was because it basically served as an overglorified drunk tank and relay point for prisoner exchanges between the NYPD and the PTU.
It occupied a full city block, surrounded by Park Row, Ferry, Frankfort, and Horsecart Streets, and had two entrances, depending on who was dropping off or picking up prisoners. The NYPD utilized the entrance on Park Row, while the PTU came and went via the one facing Horsecart Street.
Originally built in the early nineteenth century, the jail got its nickname from its architecture, which at first glance resembled an ancient mausoleum. Built atop vertical piles of gargantuan lashed-together hemlock trunks, it was actually modeled after the Temple of Hathor in the Egyptian city of Dendera, and constructed to appear, from the outside, to be only one story in height. The facade boasted long windows that started just a few feet above the ground and extended almost to the cornice, as well as fanciful pylons, obelisks, winged disks, and lotus flowers. The Egyptian theme was continued by the pair of sphinxes who sat guard on either side of the broad flight of dark stone steps.
Hexe and I hurried past the living sentinels, who watched our approach with the lazy self-assuredness of basking lions, and through a giant, forbidding portico supported by four huge papyrus-stalk columns of polished granite. We then headed down an immense and ominous corridor that led to a large quadrangle, hidden behind the towering outer walls. Inside the greater Detention Center were three lesser prisons, each several stories high: one for men, one for women, and one for humans. Our destination was the women’s prison, nicknamed the Charm School.
We were greeted at the entry desk by one of the guards, a female cyclops with blond hair and a blue eye, who carefully patted us down before escorting us to the visitation center. The room where the Charm School’s “students” received their visitors was large, sparsely decorated, and outfitted with metal tables and chairs securely bolted to the floor, with a couple of vending machines in the corner, one dispensing snacks like chile-flavored lollipops and ostrich jerky, the other cigarettes.
As we entered, I saw a handful of prisoners in identical bright orange jumpsuits meeting with family members, loved ones, and/or attorneys. To my surprise, I recognized one of the inmates.
“Chory?” I exclaimed. “What are
you
doing here?”
you
doing here?”
The maenad’s cheeks turned bright red as she saw Hexe and me. Her attorney, a huldu in an ill-fitting suit, turned to glower at us, his bull tail twitching in consternation.
“This is a privileged conversation, if you don’t mind.”
“It’s okay, Horst. They’re friends of mine,” Chorea said. “I got busted for D and D, destruction of property, and violating a restraining order.”
“Bloody abdabs, Chorea!”
“I know, I know—it sounds horrible! But I was at loose ends. I’m out of work until Lafo gets the Calf reopened, so I went out barhopping, thinking it would cheer me up. Everything was okay until I hit Lorelei’s for a nightcap. That’s when I ran into Faro. . . .”
“I take it your reunion didn’t turn out that well,” Hexe said drily.
“So I’m told. I don’t really remember much of what happened, to tell you the truth. According to the police report, I grabbed this sword that had a flaming chicken stuck on it and chased him around the restaurant. And I think I may have set fire to a grass hut.”
“Oh my! You didn’t—I mean, Faro’s not—?”
“Don’t worry. He’s still alive,” she replied. “In fact, we’re getting back together! Isn’t that right, Horst?”
Chorea’s attorney nodded. “My client’s husband has agreed to drop the charges against her and rescind his restraining order, provided she agrees to attend AA meetings.”
“Faro really
does
love me,” Chorea said, beaming. “I want to make this marriage work, so I’ve decided to go on the wagon.”
does
love me,” Chorea said, beaming. “I want to make this marriage work, so I’ve decided to go on the wagon.”
“Good for you,” Hexe said sincerely. “I wish you all the best.”
The door on the prisoners’ side of the room opened and Dori entered, accompanied by a brown-eyed cyclopean guard. Stripped of her bangles, scarves, and makeup, and dressed in a Day-Glo orange jumper, her head now covered by a do-rag, the haughty sorceress seemed greatly reduced. Hexe discreetly sniffed the air, and I saw a flicker of sadness cross his face as he caught the scent emanating from his ex-girlfriend.
Upon spying Hexe, Dori smiled and a weight seemed to lift from her shoulders. Then she saw me standing next to him, and her face closed like an angry fist. “You bring the nump to see me so she can gloat?” she growled.
“Believe me, I’m as thrilled to be here as you are,” I snapped.
“I just want to talk, Dori,” Hexe said reassuringly, motioning for her to sit down. As she did so, I noticed for the first time the stainless-steel mesh Chinese finger traps secured on her right and left “magic” fingers, which effectively kept her from casting spells while still allowing the use of her hands.
“I don’t know what the nump told you,” the sorceress said, glowering in my direction, “but I didn’t do it.”
“You didn’t try to curse her?” Hexe asked, lifting an eyebrow in surprise.
“Oh, I did
that
, all right!” Dori replied with a nasty laugh. “But I didn’t send a demon after her.”
that
, all right!” Dori replied with a nasty laugh. “But I didn’t send a demon after her.”
“But they found a binding talisman with your spell signature on it at the scene,” Hexe pointed out.
“So what if they did?” She shrugged. “I sell binders all the time. That doesn’t mean I’m the one that sent the demon.”
“But you were seen arguing with Tate a few hours before the attack,” Hexe countered. “You just admitted you attempted to inflict a curse on her.”
“I was just trying to give her crossed eyes and a hunched back. That’s all!” the sorceress replied with a dismissive wave of her hand, as if her plans for me were nothing worse than a wet willie or an Indian rope burn. “It’s not like I was trying to inflict premature aging or rabies on her! I’ll admit to trying to cripple her and ugly her up, but no way did I send a demon to kill your chuffin’ concubine.”
Hexe sat back, a thoughtful look on his face. “I believe you, Dori.”
The muscles in Dori’s jaw unclenched, and for a fleeting second I saw something besides anger and hate in her eyes. As much as I disliked her, there was no denying her beauty. No wonder Hexe had been involved with her.
“Wait a second,” I protested. “Why are you so quick to accept her word on this?”
“If she was guilty of summoning the demon, she wouldn’t have readily admitted to trying to curse you. I don’t think she’s lying,” he explained. “I think she’s being framed by someone who is aware of the former relationship between us, as well as her feelings toward you. I’m going to say as much to Captain Horn.”
“Thank you, Serenity,” Dori replied, bowing her head in ritual gratitude. “That will mean a great deal, coming from you.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Hexe said as he stood up from the table.
“We
were
close once, weren’t we?” Dori asked plaintively, reaching out to touch him. The cyclopean guard stepped forward, resting the business end of her billy club on the sorceress’s shoulder. Dori quickly pulled back, tucking her hands in her lap.
were
close once, weren’t we?” Dori asked plaintively, reaching out to touch him. The cyclopean guard stepped forward, resting the business end of her billy club on the sorceress’s shoulder. Dori quickly pulled back, tucking her hands in her lap.
“Yes,” Hexe replied, with a somber nod of his head. “That is true. And if you have suffered because of me, I am sorry. Before I leave, do you remember the last time you sold a binder?”
“There was this young guy with bluish hair, a few days back. He paid cash.”
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