12

"I can only guide you so far. In the end, you will make the hard decisions."

They landed in a grassy field, starred by small white wild flowers. Gig grimaced. "Obviously, I've been letting this place..."

"...go to seed?" Revya supplied.

"No lip from you." He released her wrist.

"Where are we? I don't see any-" She caught Gig's glare and didn't finish with "palm trees".

"Okay, look over there - no, there. See that? That...smudge thing on the horizon."

"Yes."

"Those are the ruins of a crap trap whose name I can't remember. From what Thuris has told me-" Thuris, Revya had been taught, was a World Eater "-some saps are attempting to set up a community there. I don't know if they have any connection to the radicals, but it honestly doesn't matter. I've got some catching up to do with Thuris. Then I think I'll drop in on some of my radical buddies out here. Give them a good long look at what they're up against. When I come back, I want that place empty." He smiled. "And none of this 'take me at the letter of my word' stuff. I want everyone dead, not evacuated. Capisce?"

Revya swallowed and nodded. "I...understand what you want me to do."

"And I recognize the verbal pussyfooting, kid. You don't just understand what I want you to do, you do it." He stepped away from her. "Catch ya later." And with a dark ripple through the air, he was gone.

Revya turned towards the town. There was nothing for it but to run. She had a day at the most, probably much less. There wasn't anything left she could accomplish.

Unless... she could... No...Well, maybe.

Really, desperate plans were all she had now. She might as well capitalize on them.

Trying to think clearly, she started towards the town.

There weren't trees exactly, but there were scattered bushes on the margins of the ruins, and Revya used those for cover. From what she could tell, the ruins had only just been reclaimed. She didn't see any crops other than wild vegetables, and she didn't see evidence of herds being driven out to pasture. There weren't a lot of people making use of the ruins, about thirty adults and twenty children. They had shovels, one man had a scythe (made, Revya guessed, to destroy nothing more than crops). Three of the men had long knives. Scouting to the rear of the ruins, Revya drew a nervous breath of relief. They had livestock: three cows, fifteen goats and perhaps twenty sheep, penned or either tied to the remains of the village wall.

All right. She made her way to the front of the ruins. She straightened, squared her shoulders, and drew her sword.

As she strode towards them, Revya couldn't blame the stares the people gave her. Both her clothes and skin were still patchy with bloodstains, her short hair disheveled. She came to a stop twenty paces from the gate. And had no clue where to begin.

"Hello," she called out. A crowd had assembled in the ruins, and the three armed men were moving to the forefront. "My name is Revya. I am here to take over your village."

Silence.

One of the knife-men stepped forward. "We don't have time for games, missy."

"Neither do I," Revya admitted. "So this is how it has to work: you either evacuate and leave the village to me, or...I slaughter you all."

"You forgot option three," the man said, withdrawing his knife. "This!" And without another word, he and his two compatriots rushed her.

Revya sent one sprawling with a blast of energy from her sword, and by then, the other two were in striking range. She disarmed one with a sword swing, reversing the movement to club the other in the elbow, effectively breaking his arm. The disarmed one, the leader, fell back several paces, glancing at his friends.

Revya made her voice come coolly. "I want to let you live. But if you won't be helpful, I'll do what I have to do." She turned to the village. "I have in myself the power to destroy you all." She swung the onyx blade up, hands shaking a moment, then down into the ground, channeling energy through it. The ruins hummed in response, causing the townspeople to glance around warily.

"I will give you a half hour," Revya said. "Either leave, or my sword will escort you out." She couldn't help thinking that she was acting ridiculous, but she stuck her swordpoint in the ground and leaned on the hilt, watching.

They were out in twenty minutes. As the last of them disappeared over the horizon, Revya sighed with relief. She'd never thought she could bluff. If the people had fought back, she would've run, or allowed them to take her prisoner. Bluffs aside, she doubted she had the power to kill all of them - making the air vibrate had been just that, no prelude to a devastating attack. As for the will to kill any of them...

She ran towards the animal pens.

I laughed when she told me to take soap. I can't believe it. Revya gazed at the small cake of soap in gratitude, rubbed it, then ran her sudsy fingers through her hair. The river was cold, but the flowing water felt heavenly. She watched it as it skimmed across her, carrying away the long trails of fresh blood. She dunked her head under the water and came up spluttering, trying to blow water out of her nose.

Somewhat satisfied with the state of her hair, she crept downstream to her clothes, which she'd weighted down with stones. Forcing her shirt out of the water, she frowned. There wasn't any getting those stains out. Sighing, she crawled onto the river bank. She would've liked to lie there and dry off, as she had lain near the streams in Haephnes' garden, but she doubted that would be prudent. Besides, the sun was setting, leeching away much of the warmth.

She was tying the damp laces of her shirt when she heard Gig's voice sing out, "Honey, I'm home!"

"Over here." Her voice shook. She flicked her wet hair out of her face, trying to look unconcerned as he stepped over the rise and down to the bank.

"I've seen the ruins. Classic," Gig said, watching her get to her feet. "How long did it take you to build the pyre?"

"Ages." Her arms were aching, not only from hacking down every brush she could find for kindling, but from hacking up...other things. Then dragging said things all over the town, spreading blood-stains liberally, then heaping everything into a pile. Haephnes had told her she was stronger than the humans of Prodesto, but this had strained her to her limit.

"It's a nice touch, but I'd've been just as happy if you'd left everyone out to rot in the sun. It's just a jumble of bones now." He clenched his fist and brought it to his heart. "I wanted to see the horror etched eternally on their faces."

Revya slung her haversack over her shoulder, then the baldric across her chest. "I pulverized the bones all nicely. Doesn't that count for something?"

"Or stakes," Gig was saying. "Tall wooden stakes with the corpses speared on top." He thought a moment. "Set on fire."

Revya bent to smooth her trouser leg, hiding her revulsion.

"Still, for a first try, it didn't totally blow monkey chunks." As Revya gave him a perplexed frown, he took her wrist. "We're heading back now."

Revya waited until they had rematerialized on the ramparts before speaking. "Did you learn anything from the World Eater?"

Gig gave her a contemptuous smile. "Look, kid, you're my minion, not my diary. The only things you need to know are what I want you to do. And what I want you to do is mind your own freakin' beeswax."

"Yeah," Revya said vaguely.

"Don't go thinking we're old chums," Gig went on. "One slavishly devoted fangirl is bad enough. I don't need two."

"Sure," Revya said.

Abruptly, he turned and stalked away. Revya was sent sprawling.

"Oh...right," Gig said, remembering to release her wrist.

"Got some sun, did you?" Christophe asked when Revya next found her way to the firelit room. He gestured under his eyes and down his nose. "A bit burnt."

Revya shrugged. "Where are the others?"

"Cuthbert's off amusing himself. While you were gone, we found Grimkin's body. Not sure what happened to him. Kanan's taken the corpse, and I'd rather not know why. No sign of Teobalt for four days now. Oh, help yourself. Cuthbert just made them."

Stomach rumbling, Revya picked up one of the eggrolls he offered and vanquished it in a single bite. "What's the letter?"

"One of my messengers brought it this morning." He smiled down at the parchment. "From an old friend. He has quite some news, if you're interested. Try the dipping sauce." He tapped a saucer of pale green liquid toward her.

"What's the news?"

"Perhaps you've heard of the rebels rising in the south? I know from my informants that people have been agitating for some years now - decades, even - but it's really beginning to pick up speed. They've...let's see, two nights ago, they made effigies of the reaper and burned them in the shape of a scythe. Ah, trust Lobo not to leave out the good parts. He doesn't sound too hopeful though."

Revya tried not to grimace at the tart sauce. "Is your friend part of this?"

"Goodness, no." Christophe chuckled. "We're much too wise. He advises us both to lie low for the time being."

"Gi - the reaper said he put in a personal appearance today," Revya mused, taking anther eggroll. "Let the radicals see what they've got to fight. Maybe he's trying to stop them through fear."

"Maybe, by coming out into the open, he's hoping to inspire more people to fight against him," Christophe countered. "A bigger battle. I'm nowhere near the reaper's age, but I know how hard it must be to stir up old blood."

"Raising the stakes makes the game more fun." She bit the eggroll in half. "I see."

Quite unexpectedly, Gig came upon her when she was eating breakfast one morning. She had gotten it from Christophe, then (feeling a bit as though she was using him) made a quick excuse to leave his company. She sat cross-legged on one of the balconies, her back to the railing, spreading jam on a piece of toast. After a moment, without looking up, she realized Gig had appeared and was standing on the railing above her.

"Do your shoulders always hunch like that?" he asked. "Is it a reflex or do you not like good posture or something?"

Revya talked above the nervous pounding in her throat. "You're so...scary, you know. I just can't take the pressure."

He kicked the back of her head. She went flying, her skull splitting open on the stone floor. At least, that's what Revya expected him to do. What he actually did - she felt the air move as he did it - was draw his leg back, swing forward, and stop his foot less than an inch from her neck.

"I don't see any flinching now," he commented, then lightly stepped down onto the balcony. "What is that?"

She was still acknowledging the fact that he hadn't plastered her across the balcony. "Toast."

"No, the shit on it."

She glanced down. "Hotpod jam."

He snorted and walked past her.

"I like it," Revya said, rather lamely, and bit into it. Her heart rate was slowly quieting.

"Great recommendation, that." He stretched, his gauntlets flying out to either side for a moment. "I could use a pick-me-up. A nice robust soul. Last person I ate was the king of Elsburgh, and you wouldn't believe the aftertaste."

Revya grimaced and concentrated on the taste of the jam. After a moment, she realized Gig was watching her moodily, his hands in his pockets. She stopped chewing, hoping there wasn't jam on her face.

"Why so committed to dying, kid?" Gig asked after a moment. Revya swallowed, and before she could speak, he went on, "Don't give me the 'it's my grand holy quest' spiel. Nothing's keeping you here. At least, I know I'm not. It looks like we're never going to succeed in killing each other. And as for you being my minion...Shit." He turned away, thinking a moment, then turned back. "I know you destroyed all those refugees, but when I see that babyass face of yours, I don't always believe it."

Revya reflexively touched her face, hoping it wouldn't betray her. She looked back at him and noticed again that he barely seemed older than she was, and almost as human. It was only an illusion. He'd taken the world two centuries ago. He'd torn Nandi apart. She realized he was waiting for an answer, so she shrugged. "I can't help what I look like."

Gig rolled his eyes.

"I guess the novelty of having me here is wearing off."

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Gig replied, covering his thoughtfulness with a smile. "When you're as kickass as me, the world's bound to bore you sooner or later."

"Maybe if you-"

"Maybe if I what? Took up interpretive dance? Quilt-making?"

"You're the one who says he's bored. And..." She glanced around the balcony, the hard face of the castle. "I don't really blame you. All you're here to do is kill people."

"You're saying I need a hobby?" Gig stared at her a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. "I can see it now. Groovemaster Gigimus Maximus begins his world tour in Orviska. Now promoting his new album 'I Ate the World and Got Diarrhea'." He shook his head.

"So you're not bored?" Revya countered.

"I am not so pathetically bored that I need to take advice from a shit-eating maggot."

Revya had been about to take another bite. She glanced down at her toast. "It's not shit."

"Tell yourself that."

Revya took another bite, waiting for him to stalk off. He didn't. When she looked up, he was watching her again. She glanced at him, then the toast, then him. "If you're hungry, you can have the rest."

The look he gave her was a masterpiece of incredulity. But what he said was, "Eeeew!" The Master of Death was saying "eeeew" to her. "It's covered with your spit! No chance in hell."

Business-like, Revya ripped away the piece that her lips had touched, then held out the pristine half.

Gig stared at the toast narrowly, as though it might explode the moment he let down his guard. Then he shrugged. "Can't be worse than the king of Elsburgh's soul." He took it and stared at it. Revya finished off her piece.

Gig glanced sidelong at her, then closed his fist over the toast. Both erupted in black flames. After a moment, the fire died away, and Gig dropped a pile of ash onto the floor. Revya stared, waiting for him to give an explanation, but he just walked away.

Whether or not Gig was bored, he didn't speak to Revya again for a week, then two weeks. She didn't even see him. He did keep her primed, sending her monsters to destroy at least once a day. Revya took to glancing over her shoulder routinely and tried not to sleep for longer than two hours at a time. When not fighting for her life (or recovering from her fights; her store of medicine was dwindling), she explored the castle. Apparently, the reaper hadn't bothered to rig most of the upper rooms, probably assuming that no one would ever get that high. She picked a secluded old bedroom as her own. The idea of sleeping on the ancient bed creeped her out, so she cleaned off an old fainting coach as well as she could and used that. She became familiar with a small section of the castle's many galleries and could usually find her way to the communal fireplace without mishap. Christophe was most often there, bringing treats from the outside world. Revya couldn't say she became used to them, Christophe, Cuthbert and Kanan, but she at least learned what to expect from them: jocularity, silence and...Kanan.

She was even wondering if Gig had gotten bored of her and entirely forgotten her when she woke up on the eighteenth morning. She stretched, her stomach bubbly with hunger. She lit the lamp Christophe had procured for her, then stood to leave the room.

A throat was cleared.

Revya moved only her eyes.

A man raised himself from the behind the divan, his thin face lit by the lamp. Revya stared at him. She'd seen him before, but...
"I don't suppose you recognize me," the man said softly. "And I don't blame you. I had no desire to draw attention to myself when Dio of the Evil Eye and his walking corpse crashed my home."

Revya blinked. "You're that...Yes, you live in the forest by Madora. We...ate your stew."

"I hope you enjoyed it," the man replied, though he didn't break into a smile.

"What's your name?"

"Vitali. And now..." He glanced over to her door. "If you listen carefully, I think I might be able to do more for you than just feed you stew."