Gotcha, boss.
A few minutes later Im sitting with an ice pack on half my face, squinting around it to fill out Ryodans stupid application. Im almost done and ready to sign when I get the strangest feeling in my hand, the one holding the page.
Its my left hand, my sword hand, the one that turned black a little while ago, the night I stabbed a Hunter through the heart and killed it. Or rather, the night I thought I killed a Hunter. Truth is, Im not actually sure I did but Im not about to print a retraction. The public needs to believe in certain things. When I went back to take pictures of it for The Dani Daily to show folks it was gone, completely. Not a trace remained. Not a single drop of black blood anywhere. Barrons says they cant be killed. After the incident I thought I was going to lose my hand. My veins turned black and my whole hand went cold as a block of ice. I had to wear a glove for days. Told the sidhe-sheep I got poison sumac. Rare around these parts but there used to be some. Dont know if the Shades ate it all. Wonder if they did, if they got itchy bellies inside.
Now its all tingly and weird. I study it, wondering what might go wrong with me next. Maybe stabbing the Hunter did something to me. Maybe thats why I stalled. Maybe there are worse things on the horizon.
That is so not me! Optimism is me. Tomorrows my day. You never know what grand adventures wait around the next corner!
Kid, you going to sit there all day daydreaming, or sign the fucking thing.
Thats when I see it. Im so stunned my mouth opens, and hangs there catching flies for a minute.
I almost signed it!
He must have been sitting over there, laughing his butt off inside, congratulating himself.
My head snaps up. So, what exactly does the spell in the border of this thing do? Ive never seen anything like it. And Ive seen a lot of spells. Ro was a pro at them. Some really nasty ones. Now that Im seeing it, I cant believe I missed it. Cleverly tucked into the ornate black border are shimmering shapes and symbols, slithering, in constant motion. One of them is trying to crawl off the page and onto my lap.
I wad it up and throw it at him. Nice try. Not.
Ah, well. It was possible you would sign. It was the simplest solution.
Hes completely unperturbed. I wonder, does anything shake him up, make him lose his cool, get hot about something, scream and yell? I cant see it. I think Ryodan glides through life in the same coolly amused mood all the time. What would it have done to me if Id signed it? I ask. Curiosity. I have it in spades. Mom swore it was going to be the death of me. Somethings got to be. There are worse things.
Some secrets
Yeah, yeah, blah blah, participating and allthat bunk. Got it.
Good.
Didnt want to know anyway.
Yes you did. You cant stand not knowing things.
So, what now? Were at an impasse, him and me. I suspect his application was really a contract. A binding contract, the kind that knits up your soul and tucks it in someone elses pocket. I heard of them but never believed they were real. If anybody had a way to sew up a soul in a business deal, it would be Ryodan. Jericho Barrons is an animal. Pure lawless beast. Not so Ryodan. Dudes a machine.
Congratulations, kid, he says. You passed my first test. You may just get the job yet.
I sigh. This is going to be a long day, isnt it? You serve lunch around here? And Im going to need more ice.
A door I didnt even know was there in the glass wall of his office opens, revealing a glass elevator.
Chesters is way bigger than I thought. As we ride the elevator down, Im riveted by the view.
And a little worried.
That hes letting me see so much means that whether I signed his stupid application or not, he thinks he has me buttoned up.
Ryodans glass office isnt the only place he can watch things. Its the tip of the iceberg, and, dude, I do mean iceberg, as in megatons of stuff hidden beneath the surface. The central club part of Chestersthe interior half, a dozen levels the public seesis barely a tenth of it. That main part where everybody hangs out and dances and makes deals with the devil is constructed inside a much larger structure. Ryodan and his dudes live behind the walls of that club in whats beginning to look like a vast underground city, from where I am. All the walls are two-way glass. They can go to any level, by elevator or catwalk, and watch anything thats happening at any time. Serious thought went into designing this place. Theres no way they built it all since the walls fell last Halloween. I wonder how long its all been here, beneath the polished, glitzy, glamorous Chesters that used to exist, hot spot for movie stars and models and the berrich. I wonder if, like our abbey, their underground world has been beneath a changing exterior for millennia.
I couldnt be more impressed. Its so brilliant Im jealous. This is snooping elevated to a whole new techno-nerd level of expertise.
Like what you see, kid.
I pick at my cuticles, pretending to be bored.
The elevator stops and the doors swish open. I figure we must be at least half a mile beneath Dublin.
First thing that hits me is the cold. I pull my coat tighter but it doesnt do a lot of good. Love the look of leather. Hate the insulation of it.
A few minutes later Im sitting with an ice pack on half my face, squinting around it to fill out Ryodans stupid application. Im almost done and ready to sign when I get the strangest feeling in my hand, the one holding the page.
Its my left hand, my sword hand, the one that turned black a little while ago, the night I stabbed a Hunter through the heart and killed it. Or rather, the night I thought I killed a Hunter. Truth is, Im not actually sure I did but Im not about to print a retraction. The public needs to believe in certain things. When I went back to take pictures of it for The Dani Daily to show folks it was gone, completely. Not a trace remained. Not a single drop of black blood anywhere. Barrons says they cant be killed. After the incident I thought I was going to lose my hand. My veins turned black and my whole hand went cold as a block of ice. I had to wear a glove for days. Told the sidhe-sheep I got poison sumac. Rare around these parts but there used to be some. Dont know if the Shades ate it all. Wonder if they did, if they got itchy bellies inside.
Now its all tingly and weird. I study it, wondering what might go wrong with me next. Maybe stabbing the Hunter did something to me. Maybe thats why I stalled. Maybe there are worse things on the horizon.
That is so not me! Optimism is me. Tomorrows my day. You never know what grand adventures wait around the next corner!
Kid, you going to sit there all day daydreaming, or sign the fucking thing.
Thats when I see it. Im so stunned my mouth opens, and hangs there catching flies for a minute.
I almost signed it!
He must have been sitting over there, laughing his butt off inside, congratulating himself.
My head snaps up. So, what exactly does the spell in the border of this thing do? Ive never seen anything like it. And Ive seen a lot of spells. Ro was a pro at them. Some really nasty ones. Now that Im seeing it, I cant believe I missed it. Cleverly tucked into the ornate black border are shimmering shapes and symbols, slithering, in constant motion. One of them is trying to crawl off the page and onto my lap.
I wad it up and throw it at him. Nice try. Not.
Ah, well. It was possible you would sign. It was the simplest solution.
Hes completely unperturbed. I wonder, does anything shake him up, make him lose his cool, get hot about something, scream and yell? I cant see it. I think Ryodan glides through life in the same coolly amused mood all the time. What would it have done to me if Id signed it? I ask. Curiosity. I have it in spades. Mom swore it was going to be the death of me. Somethings got to be. There are worse things.
Some secrets
Yeah, yeah, blah blah, participating and allthat bunk. Got it.
Good.
Didnt want to know anyway.
Yes you did. You cant stand not knowing things.
So, what now? Were at an impasse, him and me. I suspect his application was really a contract. A binding contract, the kind that knits up your soul and tucks it in someone elses pocket. I heard of them but never believed they were real. If anybody had a way to sew up a soul in a business deal, it would be Ryodan. Jericho Barrons is an animal. Pure lawless beast. Not so Ryodan. Dudes a machine.
Congratulations, kid, he says. You passed my first test. You may just get the job yet.
I sigh. This is going to be a long day, isnt it? You serve lunch around here? And Im going to need more ice.
A door I didnt even know was there in the glass wall of his office opens, revealing a glass elevator.
Chesters is way bigger than I thought. As we ride the elevator down, Im riveted by the view.
And a little worried.
That hes letting me see so much means that whether I signed his stupid application or not, he thinks he has me buttoned up.
Ryodans glass office isnt the only place he can watch things. Its the tip of the iceberg, and, dude, I do mean iceberg, as in megatons of stuff hidden beneath the surface. The central club part of Chestersthe interior half, a dozen levels the public seesis barely a tenth of it. That main part where everybody hangs out and dances and makes deals with the devil is constructed inside a much larger structure. Ryodan and his dudes live behind the walls of that club in whats beginning to look like a vast underground city, from where I am. All the walls are two-way glass. They can go to any level, by elevator or catwalk, and watch anything thats happening at any time. Serious thought went into designing this place. Theres no way they built it all since the walls fell last Halloween. I wonder how long its all been here, beneath the polished, glitzy, glamorous Chesters that used to exist, hot spot for movie stars and models and the berrich. I wonder if, like our abbey, their underground world has been beneath a changing exterior for millennia.
I couldnt be more impressed. Its so brilliant Im jealous. This is snooping elevated to a whole new techno-nerd level of expertise.
Like what you see, kid.
I pick at my cuticles, pretending to be bored.
The elevator stops and the doors swish open. I figure we must be at least half a mile beneath Dublin.
First thing that hits me is the cold. I pull my coat tighter but it doesnt do a lot of good. Love the look of leather. Hate the insulation of it.
