2

Gig blinked. He knew he was standing there looking like an idiot - and he knew the kid wouldn't react any faster than he did - and he should be using this time in deciding how to wipe out this village, but-

"What. The friggin' hell. Are you talking about?" No, no, too defensive. How about, "Shut the hell up, you wasted meat sack! I'm going to rip your intestines out through your nose and-"

"What?" said the kid before Gig had said anything.

"Only what I said," the elder replied placidly.

There were several more beats of silence before the kid's voice entered his head. Gig? Are you all right? You're not catatonic or something?

Gig swallowed, then deadpanned, "I am so blasted by the utter idiocy of what she said. I mean, I thought evolution was supposed to weed out nutjobs like her. If I was still the reaper, I wouldn't let this one back into the cycle. The world's bad enough without morons like this running around, and, believe me, asshattery does carry over into the next life."

"You put a lot of thought into your answer," the elder said. "That shows you care."

"Friggin' hell! Spare me your senile yammerings!"

She shook her head. "I can't retract the truth. The Tear only attacks lovers. Don't be so shy. Besides, I'm sure your friend is happy to know you're interested."

Don't answer, Gig told the kid before continuing, "Shut up and tell us how to break the curse!"

The elder stared at him. Blinked. Smiled. Tut-tutted. And shook her head. "Such a rude young man."

"Aargh! Listen, crone-"

"Very little consideration for anyone."

"Consideration? Okay, hag, how's this? If you want to avoid the wholesale slaughter of this shit heap village, then you'll tell me every damn thing you know about this curse."

The elder folded her hands and smiled down at them.

"Look!" Gig wondered if he was actually frothing at the mouth; he certainly felt as though he were. "This isn't just my own problem! The kid's friggin' body is gone!"

The elder tapped her fingers together, then finally said, "We'll discuss this in the afternoon."

Gig swore and stepped back from her. "Fine - fiiiine. We've got no problem with that. This is just a leisurely outing. Happy vacation time."

"I'm sorry, Eleni," the elder said. "Would you mind?"


If Eleni minded, she didn't say so. All she asked was that Gig stay out of anyone's way. His only answer was a withering look.

Accepting her hospitality had a definite benefit - food. Gig savored a few moments to kick back and eat the bread, cheese and hotpods Eleni gave them.

I wish she hadn't grimaced like that, the kid piped up.

Gig shrugged. It's her own problem. Damn, this cheese is hard.

Uncertainty buzzed in his mind. It was the kid's, not his. Gig? Do you buy what she said? About the Tear picking us?

Gig gnawed the cheese, then squinted at its strong flavor. You know me. I always take the word of derelict smug wenches.

I mean, seriously.

Gig sheered off half a hotpod with one bite. Look, I know the cow's not here, but you do not need to compensate for our present lack of stupid. Gig waited for her to answer, then waited some more. Tch. Don't go off and sulk. You wanna think of us as wuvvers? Will that make you feel better?

I just don't want to be stuck like this.

Gig sighed and leaned back on his elbows. He could sense the kid thinking hard, the tension in her mind. Honestly, he doubted brainstorming would do much good at this point. And...he was beginning to doubt whether they'd find a way out of this mess. Not that he'd say so. He'd wait for her to give up before he crushed her hopes.

Crushed her hopes? Well, what else? If they weren't getting out of this, it was over, she wasn't getting her body back, and they were both screwed. But at least it was together.

Ah shit, he had not thought that.

Well, okay, he had, but he didn't mean it that way.

And he was feeling way too defeatist. Finishing the last hotpod, he swept to his feet.

Any plans? the kid asked.

Yeah, but I'm still open to input. Do you want to strangle that elder or just cut her in fifty pieces?

The elder was drinking very muddy tea when they found her, sitting on a blanket on the edge of the village. She didn't look up when they approached, merely commenting, "I see 'afternoon' means different things to different people."

You don't need to-

But Gig ignored the kid and angled his scythe in front of the elder's face. Her eyebrows tensed, but she gave no other move.

"Unless you like to see us suffer - unless it gives you some sort of sicko pleasure - unless you want my friend to never get her body back - tell us how to break the curse."

"I like seeing people grow into their maturity," she said softly, "but barring that, I will still help you." She climbed to her feet. "I know of no surefire way to break the curse." She talked over Gig's growl. "However, you should return to the tombstone tonight, at the time of your fusing."

"Right, where we'll use you to placate the Tear with a blood sacrifice-"

"You're right that only the Tear has the answers you seek. But..." She smiled. "I doubt it's I the Tear wants to see dead."

Gig spun the scythe haft in his fingers.

"We have to die?" the kid asked.

"The Tear is very bitter," was all the elder said.

Gig, don't hurt her, the kid broke in.

Why the hell not? She's toying with us.

This is bad enough already. I know I can't stop you, but...

Fine. This fleabag's not worth my time. Gig shifted his weight back onto his heels, straightening the scythe into a walking stick.

Though he hadn't said anything, the elder smiled again. Which was almost enough to make him slaughter her.


They left the village long before they needed to, heading back towards the tombstone. "We are not going to die, kid," Gig muttered.

The kid didn't answer.

Gig paused on the mountain slope. "You awake in there?"

"I don't want to die," she said. "I seriously don't. But..."

"Kid, there's no point in dying just to get your body back. You won't be around to enjoy it."

"So you'd rather be stuck like this for the rest of our lives?"

Gig started walking again, knowing that if he remained silent, the kid wouldn't make him answer.

By the time they reached the tombstone, Gig hadn't reached any mental breakthroughs. Without consulting the kid, he sat down across from the stone, leaning against a boulder. What was going to happen that night? He had no clue, nothing to plan a strategy around. Hell, he doubted anything would happen. Neither of them spoke as their shadow slanted eastward.

Gig, the kid said shortly after sunset, when he'd wrapped his jacket around himself for warmth.

I'm not here right now. Leave a message at the sound of the "damn".

A long confused silence.

Don't try to understand it, kid. Whaddaya want?

I was thinking...what if we just twisted the stone around again?

Gig sighed and closed his eyes.

What?

I really hope this doesn't work.

Why?

Because you'll be smug as hell for the rest of your life. And he stood, rubbing his arms to loosen the cold muscles. And, annoyed that the kid would be aware of how much effort this cost him, he wrenched the tombstone around.

The stars twinkled down.

But that was it.

"Damn!" Gig kicked the stone around again.

Something really should've happened this time, so it didn't.

Gig fell to his knees, grabbing either side of the stone, the closest he could get to yanking it up by the collar. "Listen, pebble! I've had it up to here with you - and all these soul fusions - and people losing their friggin' bodies! I did not travel back from the grave to be screwed over by a chunk of metamorphic lava shit! You have two seconds to-"

Gig!

But he was ahead of her. Throwing all his weight back, he pulled away from the stone -

- as tension snapped up his arms. He didn't get far. Problem was, his hands were suddenly welded to the stone, encased in a layer of something red and gemlike.

For a long moment, Gig didn't - couldn't - think. All he was aware of was his quick breathing and that he couldn't feel his hands.

Kid, he said eventually, can you get out of my body?

No. But even if I could, I don't see how that would help.

I didn't say it would. I'm just saying you'd get clear of this. But- He hauled back on his arms. I think we're staying put.

Another long silence. He could practically hear the kid's brain chugging. Look, we haven't tried everything.

"What do you suggest?" Gig shouted. "Shall I gnaw my arms off?" Struck by the idea, he glanced back at his scythe. It was out of reach of either of his feet, and even so...

"Crimson Tear," the kid said, "please, let us go."

Nothing.

"Aw, and you asked so nicely!" Gig snapped, wrenching himself back again, almost dislocating his left elbow.

The kid was talking again. "Let's - damn - remember Raksha - let's trying uniting our thoughts! Think of hotpods!"

"Arrgh! Luscious - beautiful - juicy - hotpods that I'll - never - see - again!"

"Yummy hotpods - ow - with syrup-"

"Yeah - shit - golden syrup and - argh! - pancakes-"

"We - aren't - dying here!"

"No way! We're - going home - if I have to - drag this paper weight back - argh!"

"We can do this! We - stopped - Raksha!"

"Damn right - huff! -Your - pate is slate!"

"What?"

"Well, it - daaaamn - doesn't have - an ass - so I can't say-"

"Gig, stop!"

"What? Damn." Arms shaking, he did stop. Blood was streaming from his wrists, flowing from under the layer of red crystal. "It's nothing. Just a little blood."

"But-"

"I'm used to it, I won't get queasy." He glanced around the dark mountainside, searching for anything that might help. The broad moonlight offered no clues.

"Heh," Gig said. Then he threw his head back and laughed. "I get it! I've figured it out!"

The kid knew him. Her voice, when she spoke, was more wary than hopeful. "How to break the curse?"

"Sure thing. The elder talked about death, right? And you started to stumble on to it. If this body dies, what happens to the two of us? Presto! Instant division. My soul goes one way, yours goes the other, and we're free from the curse!" He let off a long reel of laughter again, then abruptly cut it off, facing the stone. "Nice try, door stop, but neither of us is dying anytime soon."

He could sense the kid's unspoken So now what?

He sighed and closed his eyes, images crackling through his brain: reaping the soul cycle, the elder's face, the stupid cow... What had she said? Something about "taking care" of the kid. Right...like he hadn't done that a million times already. But with all that practice, he couldn't command any clear course now.

I think we should rest, the kid said.

Lazyass. But he made no further arguments, keeping his eyes closed, hoping against hope that he'd be able to feel his hands again.


Gig?

Gig hadn't really been asleep, but he had to concentrate to give the kid even part of his attention.

Tell me about dying.

Kid...Ever heard of the cycle? I've died, what, three times? You've probably died over a hundred times.

Yeah, but I don't remember it. And I...really don't want to die now.

Gig shifted his weight on his knees to a more comfortable position. A few hours ago he would've said that they weren't going to die there, but they'd both heard it several times that night. He wondered if either of them still believed it, or ever had. How cold was it? Would they die of exposure? Nice and quick? More likely they'd drawn the starvation and dehydration card - long and agonizing.

Kid, look...We can get through anything - pretty much. We can get through dying too.

The silence was long enough that he thought she'd dropped off again, but she startled him. I hope I don't remember this.

Yeah, this is pretty shitty. The way it works is, in your next life, you'll have an inexplicable fear of mountains and/or cemeteries-

No. I mean - this whole life. I don't want to remember it. I don't want to have weird, never-explained dreams about it.

Why not?

She hesitated. It would hurt too much.

Nah, nah, kid. We still have several days ahead of us - a couple hours, definitely. You don't need to hit this mood yet.

Gig! Now she was almost snapping, which was a rarity.

Chances are good you'll never dream about your past lives again, Gig said flatly, discarding the casualness. That was part of our fusion, remember? Chances are also good that you'll never run into anyone from your past life again either. But if you and I and the stupid cow ever run into each other in the next cycle, chances are prime we'll never recognize each other.

Don't talk, she said after a moment. I don't want to think about that.

"Tough shit," he said aloud for emphasis. You won't be able to think about anything else.

She sighed. We were so - well - relatively optimistic when we started off. And Lady Virtuous and Danette were laughing like it was just a funny joke. They must've thought we'd be able to do this.

Yeah, well, you didn't see either of them stuck in this position.

Do you think...

Do I think what?

Never mind.

Spill. It's not like you'll get another chance to tell me.

It's not worth it.

You got nothing to lose at this point, kid.

I just...Lady Virtuous seemed so sure...Do you think...we would've fallen in love? I mean, eventually. I mean, do you think that's even possible?

Gig rolled his eyes. If you were a giant hotpod, sure. I'd be all over you.

I told you it wasn't important. Even in his head, her tone sounded vague.

What's your problem? Aside from being doomed and all.

You just...You're important to me, Gig.

Gig was not happy that she'd be able to sense his sudden heart-pounding, so he ignored it. I'd say I'm important to the whole freakin' world. I was a god after all.

No - it's not about you being a god. You're the one who always says 'soulmate', but I think I'm the one who really believes it.

Gig opened his eyes and looked down at his knees. Listen, kid, you don't need to talk like this. We still have time to get loose from this thing.

You don't have to lie to me. We're not getting loose.

Don't you want to die trying?

I - yeah. But this isn't something we can break with a sword.

Gig drew a deep breath. We both need some rest.


A chilly light paled the east before he heard the kid again. Do you ever think about being Vigilance?

Even in the cold weariness, a bolt of anger shot through him. "Whatever reason you have for bringing him up, it's not good enough."

Vigilance loved Resilience, didn't he?

Gig momentarily closed his mind off from the kid, a stream of memories flowing through his head - blood down Resilience's stomach, the knife, the realization that he should've acted, had time to stop her, but hadn't thought she was strong enough to act on her threats. Finally, he said, "Vigilance was a washed-out bitch who wasn't smart enough to save his own life, let alone anyone else's." It was a lie, but he didn't laugh. He couldn't escape that Vigilance was himself, a more complete version of himself, unbroken by Drazil's machinations. He didn't even go through his usual arguments to reassure himself that he was better off now. Though - honestly - maybe I am.

What? the kid asked.

Gig shook his head.

Do you think you can love someone? I mean, would you want to?

A pep talk at two in the morning when I'm glued to a rock isn't going to make me love anything. Except for silence.

I just - I think - if - we did love each other, that'd be kind of-

"You're scared and desperate, kid," Gig interrupted. "Not a good time to be talking."

I'm not as scared as I was a little while ago.

Great. He closed his eyes again. Fabulous.

What a way to die, huh?

Gig opened his eyes. Sat up. "Change of plans, kid."

"What?"

"We aren't dying." He beat back the thought of Resilience's knife. He had let her die...

"What're you going to do?"

He strained back against the tombstone.

"That isn't going to work."

"Shut up." He pulled back, muscles burning with pain. "I can't concentrate with you yapping." He clenched his eyes shut, even shut his mind off from the kid, saving all his energy for himself. Okay, Vigilance. All the godlike power you were too half-assed to exploit - you'd better have left some for me. Pain tore up one of his biceps. You pansy. I can hear you sniveling. Pony up the power! The kid was saying something, but he couldn't tell what. Bring it, you ass-backwards boulder! You can have my hands, but I'm taking the rest of it with me! Something snapped in his right wrist, but the sharp pain only spiked his adrenaline. I'm Gig! I'm going to roll this rock right out of - "AAAGH!"

Light exploded in front of his eyes.


When he woke, he was aware of light on the other side of his eyelids. Gig blinked up into a bright overcast sky. Hard rock punished the back of his head. He turned towards the warmth he felt along the side of his face. The kid's head rested alongside his own, her forehead to his chin. Her eyes were closed. Gig blinked again in contented lassitude - then snapped back to himself. He sat up, running his eyes along her for any sign of injury. None. The Tear had even thrown in her clothes when it restored her body.

Wait...

Gig twisted around to face the tombstone. All traces of the red crystalline seal had vanished - all outward traces, if not the interior. He looked down at his own body. It had been restored too - his hands, the broken wrist - his - oh holy hell - his chest - and - sweet hotpods of paradise, his hair was back to normal. "Kid! Hey, kid, wake up!"

She blinked, then reached a hand up to brush some hair out of her face - then tensed and stared at her hand. Then she rolled into a sitting position, looking down at herself.

"Not too shabby, huh?"

She turned and looked at him. "How did - did you just break the curse with brute force?"

He shrugged. "You got a better way?"

Slowly she shook her head. "How did you do it?"

"No clue. Especially because I've never had an opportunity to kick cosmic ass or anything like it before."

"Well..." She looked down at her hands again, flexing her fingers. "At least it solved the problem."

Gig hoisted himself to his feet. "You can pay me back by getting me hotpods every day for the rest of your life."

As he reached for the haversack, he heard the kid say, "Was it really the brute force that did it?"

He checked the buckles on the satchel. "What else?"

Gig knew what was coming the moment she stood up. Without looking over, he said, "You really wanna try that, kid?"

Apparently she really did. Gig flinched for a moment, but let her kiss him.


Gig was way past the flinching stage by the time they decided they were ready to go. "C'mon, kid, pick up the pace! We have a long hike ahead of us!"

She paused in the act of checking the onyx blade in its sheath. "What's the hurry? It's all downhill from here."

Gig turned back to her, lifting his eyebrows over an implacable stare. "Excuse me? Are you saying you forgot?"

She didn't have to say so. It was obvious from the way she stared back at him.

"What's golden and tender and juicy and impossible to find and whole reason we came out here in the first place?"

"Oh yeah." She rubbed the back of her neck. "The Golden Hotpod. It seems kind of insignificant now."

"Insignificant?" Gig turned away from her and began stalking up the mountain path. "Okay, kid, a little revisionist history before we continue: I never kissed you, not even once, and I sure as hell didn't say I loved you."

She caught up to him. "Take it as a compliment. You're more important to me than the Golden Hotpod."

"That's idolatry," Gig fired back. "And idolatry is a sin! Pray to the gods of pods for forgiveness." He rummaged in his pack and withdrew his map of the mountain. "Okay, we need to continue west. The pod's supposed to be in a secluded grotto on the western side of the mountain."


The grotto was a small cave set high in the mountain wall, which required some creative scrambling to get into.

"How could anything grow in here?" the kid asked, her voice echoing. "There's almost no light."

"Hotpods are the gods' perfect creation. Nothing can stop them." He carefully made his way down the cave. "Look for the leaves, kid. It's gotta be in here."

"Watch your head. There might be-"

Gig squealed. After the adventure, he admitted to kissing the kid and saying he loved her, but he never admitted to squealing like a toddler.

"Did you find it?" bounced the kid's eager voice from behind him.

Gig felt the leaves - huge, soft leaves - and he yanked - yoinked - ganked the pod out of the earth with a resounding pop! Breathing fast, he gathered the profusion of leaves in his arms and ran to the front of the grotto, the kid fast behind him. The sun had come out, and in its sparkling clarity, they pushed aside the mass of leaves to the pod Gig cradled, childlike, in his arms.

He fumbled to keep from dropping it, then cradled it in his hands. Then one hand. Then he held it up between his thumb and forefinger.

"It's..." the kid said, "...golden."

"It's bigger than a marble." Gig squinted. "Maybe."

The kid touched the tiny hotpod with one finger. "Well, we found it."

"It's like a baby rattlesnake," Gig said, reaching for his knife and beginning to peel the pod.

"Come again?"

"They're more deadly because all their poison is concentrated into a tiny package. So this has got to be loaded with taste." Very, very carefully, he managed to slice the pod in half. The kid took hers.

"Okay," Gig said. "Bottoms up."

They tipped their heads back and dropped the pieces in.

And chewed.

And chewed.

And swallowed.

"Well?" the kid asked.

"It was fine," Gig said firmly. "It was the most delicious, most orgiastic hotpod experience of my life."

"Okay," was all the kid said.

Gig paused. "Stale bologna?"

"I thought it tasted more like spit."

"Damn." Gig disgustedly reshouldered his haversack and picked up his scythe. "Let's go."

As they walked down the path, Gig put his arm around the kid.

"What?"

"When we get home and the cow and Virtubitch gather round for a smugfest, I don't think we should tell them anything."

"Why not?"

"Because they are two of the most unhelpful bitches in the world. I think we can agree on that."

"They weren't exactly sympathetic," the kid admitted.

"No matter how much they beg, we aren't giving any details." She nodded. "Except one."

She looked up. "What?"

"They missed out." He kissed her. "The Golden Hotpod was delicious."