"Whoa," I breathed. "Uh . . . what did you just do?"
"I WARNED IT."
I blinked several times. "You . . . warned away my headache?"
"THE CREATURE CAUSING IT. THE PARASITE."
I stared stupidly for a second, and then sorted through my memories again. That's right. Right here in this chamber, the last time I'd been here, either Mab or Demonreach had said something about the division of labor keeping my body alive while the rest of me was elsewhere. They'd said that the parasite kept my heart running. I glowered at Demonreach and said, "Tell me about this parasite."
"I WILL NOT."
I made an exasperated sound. "Why not?"
"IT BARGAINED."
"With what?"
"YOUR LIFE, WARDEN."
I thought about that one for a few seconds. "Wait. . . . You needed its help to save me? And its price was that you don't tell me about it?"
"INDEED."
I exhaled slowly and ran my fingers over my head. Something was running around in there, giving me migraines. "Is it a danger to me?"
"IN TIME."
"What happens if it stays in there?" I asked.
"IT BURSTS FORTH FROM YOUR SKULL."
"Aglck!" I said. I couldn't help it. My skin was crawling. I'd seen those Alien movies at a formative age. "How do I get it out?"
Demonreach seemed to consider that for a moment. Then it said, "ASK GRASSHOPPER."
"Molly? Uh, seriously? You know she's new, right?"
It just looked at me.
"How long do I have to take care of it?" I asked.
"SOON."
"Soon? How soon is soon? What do you mean, soon?"
It just stared at me.
Right. Immortal, inhuman, wholly-focused-on-holding-evil-horde-still-forever sorts of creatures don't have a real solid grasp of the concept of time. From what I've seen and heard over the years, I've begun to understand that linear time is a uniquely mortal perspective. Other things aren't attached to it nearly as tightly as we are. There were bushes on the island older than me. There were trees there older than Chicago. Demonreach was not compatible with stopwatches or day planners.
"Okay," I said. "Okay, priorities: Put the skull-bursting-parasite issue aside for the moment. That leaves me in charge of a veritable doomsday machine that the White Council and everyone else is gonna flip out about. But they aren't going to flip out about it today, because presumably they don't even know I'm alive yet, and if I don't stay focused on the next twenty-four hours, I might not live long enough to have all that fun. So we forget about that for now, too."
"SENSIBLE PRIORITIES."
"I'm glad you approve," I said. I waspretty sure something that didn't understand minutes and seconds wouldn't be big on getting sarcasm either. "You've still got a problem. I need you to explain it to me."
"YOU ARE TOO LIMITED," Demonreach said. "IT WOULD DAMAGE YOU, AS IT DAMAGED YOUR SPIRIT."
I held up both my hands and half flinched. "For God's sake, don't think it at me. You think way too loud."
The glowing eyes looked somehow disgusted. "THIS MEANS OF CONVEYANCE OF IDEAS IS INEFFICIENT AND LIMITED."
"Words, words, words," I said. "Tell me about it. But it's what we've got, unless you can draw me a picture."
Demonreach was still for a moment-and then vines abruptly twined up out of the floor. I almost jumped, but stopped myself. It clearly hadn't done me any harm, apart from what I'd done to myself, and if it wanted to hurt me, I wasn't going to be able to stop it anyway. So I waited.
The vines twined up into my bag and came out wrapped around Bob's skull.
"Harry!" Bob squeaked.
"He's one of mine," I said in a hard voice. "You hurt him and you can forget me helping you."
"LITTLE ENTITY," Demonreach said. "YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH THE WARDEN. YOU WILL TRANSLATE. YOU WILL NOT BE DAMAGED."
"Hey!" I said, and took a step between Demonreach and Bob. "Did you hear me, Hopalong? Put down the skull."
"Harry!" Bob said again. "Harry, wait! It heard you!"
I scowled and turned to look at Bob. He looked like the same old Bob. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," the skull said. The eyelights were flicking everywhere, as if watching dozens of screens at once. "Man, this thing is big! And old!"
"Is it hurting you?"
"Uh, no . . . no, it isn't. And it could if it wanted to. It's just . . . kind of a lot to take in. . . ." Then the skull quivered in the grip of the tendrils and said, "Oh!"
"Oh, what?" I asked.
"It's explaining the problem," Bob reported. "It had to take it through several levels of dumbing-down before I was able to get it."
I grunted and relaxed a little. "Oh. So what's the problem?"
"Hang on. I'm trying to figure out how to dumb it down enough for you to get it."
"Thanks," I growled.
"I got your back, boss." Then Bob bounced up and down in the tendrils a few times. "Hey, Hopalong! Turn this thing around this way!"
Demonreach glowered at the skull.
Bob jiggled a little more. "Come on! We're on a schedule here!"
I blinked at that. "Damn. You went from scared to wiseass pretty quick there, Bob."
"I WARNED IT."
I blinked several times. "You . . . warned away my headache?"
"THE CREATURE CAUSING IT. THE PARASITE."
I stared stupidly for a second, and then sorted through my memories again. That's right. Right here in this chamber, the last time I'd been here, either Mab or Demonreach had said something about the division of labor keeping my body alive while the rest of me was elsewhere. They'd said that the parasite kept my heart running. I glowered at Demonreach and said, "Tell me about this parasite."
"I WILL NOT."
I made an exasperated sound. "Why not?"
"IT BARGAINED."
"With what?"
"YOUR LIFE, WARDEN."
I thought about that one for a few seconds. "Wait. . . . You needed its help to save me? And its price was that you don't tell me about it?"
"INDEED."
I exhaled slowly and ran my fingers over my head. Something was running around in there, giving me migraines. "Is it a danger to me?"
"IN TIME."
"What happens if it stays in there?" I asked.
"IT BURSTS FORTH FROM YOUR SKULL."
"Aglck!" I said. I couldn't help it. My skin was crawling. I'd seen those Alien movies at a formative age. "How do I get it out?"
Demonreach seemed to consider that for a moment. Then it said, "ASK GRASSHOPPER."
"Molly? Uh, seriously? You know she's new, right?"
It just looked at me.
"How long do I have to take care of it?" I asked.
"SOON."
"Soon? How soon is soon? What do you mean, soon?"
It just stared at me.
Right. Immortal, inhuman, wholly-focused-on-holding-evil-horde-still-forever sorts of creatures don't have a real solid grasp of the concept of time. From what I've seen and heard over the years, I've begun to understand that linear time is a uniquely mortal perspective. Other things aren't attached to it nearly as tightly as we are. There were bushes on the island older than me. There were trees there older than Chicago. Demonreach was not compatible with stopwatches or day planners.
"Okay," I said. "Okay, priorities: Put the skull-bursting-parasite issue aside for the moment. That leaves me in charge of a veritable doomsday machine that the White Council and everyone else is gonna flip out about. But they aren't going to flip out about it today, because presumably they don't even know I'm alive yet, and if I don't stay focused on the next twenty-four hours, I might not live long enough to have all that fun. So we forget about that for now, too."
"SENSIBLE PRIORITIES."
"I'm glad you approve," I said. I waspretty sure something that didn't understand minutes and seconds wouldn't be big on getting sarcasm either. "You've still got a problem. I need you to explain it to me."
"YOU ARE TOO LIMITED," Demonreach said. "IT WOULD DAMAGE YOU, AS IT DAMAGED YOUR SPIRIT."
I held up both my hands and half flinched. "For God's sake, don't think it at me. You think way too loud."
The glowing eyes looked somehow disgusted. "THIS MEANS OF CONVEYANCE OF IDEAS IS INEFFICIENT AND LIMITED."
"Words, words, words," I said. "Tell me about it. But it's what we've got, unless you can draw me a picture."
Demonreach was still for a moment-and then vines abruptly twined up out of the floor. I almost jumped, but stopped myself. It clearly hadn't done me any harm, apart from what I'd done to myself, and if it wanted to hurt me, I wasn't going to be able to stop it anyway. So I waited.
The vines twined up into my bag and came out wrapped around Bob's skull.
"Harry!" Bob squeaked.
"He's one of mine," I said in a hard voice. "You hurt him and you can forget me helping you."
"LITTLE ENTITY," Demonreach said. "YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH THE WARDEN. YOU WILL TRANSLATE. YOU WILL NOT BE DAMAGED."
"Hey!" I said, and took a step between Demonreach and Bob. "Did you hear me, Hopalong? Put down the skull."
"Harry!" Bob said again. "Harry, wait! It heard you!"
I scowled and turned to look at Bob. He looked like the same old Bob. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," the skull said. The eyelights were flicking everywhere, as if watching dozens of screens at once. "Man, this thing is big! And old!"
"Is it hurting you?"
"Uh, no . . . no, it isn't. And it could if it wanted to. It's just . . . kind of a lot to take in. . . ." Then the skull quivered in the grip of the tendrils and said, "Oh!"
"Oh, what?" I asked.
"It's explaining the problem," Bob reported. "It had to take it through several levels of dumbing-down before I was able to get it."
I grunted and relaxed a little. "Oh. So what's the problem?"
"Hang on. I'm trying to figure out how to dumb it down enough for you to get it."
"Thanks," I growled.
"I got your back, boss." Then Bob bounced up and down in the tendrils a few times. "Hey, Hopalong! Turn this thing around this way!"
Demonreach glowered at the skull.
Bob jiggled a little more. "Come on! We're on a schedule here!"
I blinked at that. "Damn. You went from scared to wiseass pretty quick there, Bob."
