Butcher Bird

TWENTY-TWO Bewitched

“It occurs to me that I have no idea where we’re headed.”

“To the desert. The Kasla Mountains,” said Shrike. “They’re our entrance to Hell.”

Spyder and Shrike were in the galley below deck and she was mixing a strong tea fortified with red wine and spices. Spyder liked the smell and he enjoyed watching Shrike work, feeling with her small, sure hands for each utensil and ingredient as she prepared the brew.

“I’ve never heard of the Kaslas.”

“They’re on the island of Kher-aba in the Sunkosh Sea.”

“This is going to be one of those places that regular people can’t see, right? And I’m going to recognize fuck all.”

“Chances are.”

“Tell me how nice I am for coming along.”

Shrike smiled. “You’re an angel. A lifesaver. My prize pony.”

The living quarters in the airship were like a flying palace, an equal, in miniature, of Madame Cinders’ ornate quarters. The place smelled of cedar, mahogany and Shrike’s herbal brew. Nearby, Lulu slept on a heavy Chinese fainting couch, delicately carved in the shape of an emperor dragon. Though smaller than his warehouse, the airship was easily the best place Spyder had ever lived.

“I’m the teacher here, school girl. You’re not allowed to sexually harass me.”

“You’re missing your chance, Humbert. I was going to do my best Lolita for you.”

“How is it that a princess who knows about Lolita has never heard of stuff like James Dean or a Porsche?”

“Sorry if I skipped Pop Culture 101 before we met. I’ve lived in this Sphere on and off and I’ve picked up a few things. TV I learned about from my old partner. He would describe the shows to me.”

“You never told me much about him.”

She shrugged. “He was a boy I met in the Third Sphere, Ozymand Riyahd, a thief and the son of a sword maker. He helped me train and perfect my skills. But it was dangerous for us. Soldiers from my kingdom were still looking for me. We bribed a wizard for the magic to get to the First Sphere. Neither swordsmanship nor magic helped, in the end. Ozymand was murdered. Is that what you wanted to know?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to go all Jimmy Olsen, but I needed to know what it was between you two.”

“Why?”

Spyder shrugged. “Because you have my interest. Because you’re not like anyone I ever met before which, I know, is an understatement. I like you, but I don’t want to go shaking my tail feathers where they’re not wanted.”

“Ozymand was my friend and will always own a piece of my heart. But he’s gone now. We murderers are a practical bunch. Just like on TV. When the first Darrin left Bewitched, they got another.”

“You know about Bewitched?”

“Uncle Arthur makes me laugh. But TV witches aren’t much like the real ones.”

Shrike finished preparing the tea and handed a cup to Spyder. It was warm and revived him after his sleepless night.

“Maybe you can get a job as a demon consultant in Hollywood.”

“I’ll be a stunt person for all the famous blind female action stars,” said Shrike. She laughed. “I liked Jean Harlow. Is she still in movies?”

“Not for about sixty years.”

“Oh. The way her voice sounded made her sound so beautiful.”

“She was. Good guess.”

“I told you: there’s blind and there’s blind.”

“Which means what?”

“I’ll explain later. Tell me about your friend. Is she an expert on Hell?”

“Lulu? Not hardly. She’s a friend. Sort of my little sister. I couldn’t leave her behind.”

“Can she fight? Can she find water in the desert? Navigate by the stars?”

“She can give you nipple rings and a nice labret.”

“Then why did you bring her? You know where we’re going. Every step of this journey is going to be over razor blades and landmines.”

“Things back home are steel-wool panties—somewhat uncomfortable and crawling up your ass. A demon’s pissed at me, and now everyone thinks I’m Ted Bundy’s cabana boy. If I’d a left Lulu behind, she would have offed herself or been offed by some solid citizen. You should understand about wanting to protect a friend.”

“She’s not one of your little harem girls?”

“Lulu’s my oldest friend in the world. And if she was going to do the Dance of the Seven Veils it would be for you, not me.”

“Ah. A girl’s girl.”

“She’d likely prefer ‘Soft Butch,’ but yeah. You’re not jealous or anything are you?”

“You’re the one whose penis has its own answering machine. I heard and smelled a woman coming on board…”

“And thought I was bringing a snack? Thanks for letting me know you still think I’m an idiot.”

“I don’t think that. We just don’t know each other that well, yet. In my kind of work, trust is important. And I don’t give it easily.”

“Neither do I, and I’m not even a killer.”

“Then, you should understand that I’m enjoying your company, but I’m not entirely at ease with it yet.”

“I’m right with you there, Calamity Jane.”

“We’ll know more by the end of the trip.”

“Not me. Aside from you, I want to forget every bit of what I’ve seen,” said Spyder. He lit a cigarette.

“These things are never that simple,” Shrike said. “I’m from another Sphere. When you lose the sight, I’ll be gone, too. If you saw me at all, it would only be as a ghost.”

“Balls. Madame Cinders said her book has the power to create and uncreate things. She should be able to bend a few rules about what can and can’t be seen. I want to see you. I don’t want to see anything that’s going to eat me; I don’t want to see demons or talking snakes; and I don’t ever want to see anyone with horns or wings.”

“Some of my best friends have horns and wings.”

“I’ll be your hillbilly boyfriend. Purty, but slow.”

“No problem there.”

“See? We’re halfway home.”

“And if Madame Cinders can’t bend the rules? What if, to regain your precious ignorance, we never see each other again?”

“We’ll deal with that when it happens. Besides, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing out here. I’m probably going to get eaten by a demon dachshund or shanked by a fire-breathing tea cozy. That’d solve everything.”

“Stick with me, pony boy. The talking dogs will have to get through me to get to you.”

Shrike laid her hand on Spyder’s chest. He didn’t move, but became aware of his heart beating and the movement of blood through his body.

“I think you’re sexually harassing me again, but I’ll let it go for now,” he said.

“Did you bring your books?”

“Jenny took most of ’em. But I know the important stuff, the grand schemes. The first, most important thing you need to understand about Hell is what Hermes Trismegistus, a famous alchemist, said: ‘Hell is like anywhere else. Only worse.’ Course, that sounds better in Latin.”

Spyder talked into the night, telling Shrike about the pits and traps of Hell—the cunning lies demons tell, the slowly spinning trees full of knives in the abattoir forests. Lulu slept nearby in the hold. Spyder checked on her from time to time and made her drink water. They sailed west all day and all night. Like bright toys, airships drifted in the distance.