Crawford reached for the door to Farfarello's room and stopped cold as a vision flashed. He could search the strands of the future, as he'd done earlier, but sometimes pieces like this randomly came to him and stopped him in his tracks. He had had to depend on serendipity before Eszet had taught him how to use his power at will. Now, it seemed, Serendipity was on his side.
Thanks to his power, he wasn't at all surprised to open the door and see Farfarello free of his bonds, the straightjacket and bite guard discarded on the floor. The bed had been practically torn apart, though the two people in it were still entirely dressed, so he decided that he didn't want to make assumptions about what might have gone on. Farfarello and Sabbath were dozing, tangled together, Farf's head pillowed on Sabbath's stomach, her fingers resting on his hair. He had his arms around her waist, wound under her, and was treating her like a plush toy to cuddle, which Crawford found rather endearing for an entire nanosecond. Then he adjusted his glasses, stepped into the room, and cleared his throat loudly.
"While I am glad to see you've calmed down," he said bitingly, "It's morning, and time isn't slowing down for any of us. She needs to get to work, and if that work involves leaving this building, or even stepping out into the hallway, you have to be with her. Schuldich and I need to accompany Takatori today, but Nagi will be here." He waited for a moment, then said sharply, "Farfarello?"
"Understood," he replied quietly.
"Good." Crawford turned and shut the door behind him, shaking his head.
"Well, I'm disappointed; your glasses aren't steamed," Schuldich remarked as he stepped out into the living room to meet Crawford. "I was sort of hoping for some scandalous thoughts, or maybe even better, the witch's corpse..."
"The witch needs to stay alive," Crawford reminded him with a smirk. "She is going to be VERY useful to us. Speaking of which, there's been a slight change of plans. We'll speak on the way to the meeting." He nodded toward the door, and Schuldich fell in behind him, the prospect of intrigue drawing him like a fly to honey.
Sabbath continued to sleep as Farfarello disentangled himself and slipped off to get dressed. His weight on the edge of the mattress woke her a few moments later, though, and when her eyes cracked open they were almost honey-gold in the light of the window.
"It's time to work," he told her. "What are you going to do?"
Sabbath yawned and brushed the sleep from her eyes, sitting up and straightening her rumpled clothing. "Dowse," she said matter-of-factly. "And find where those bastards are hiding."
"What do you need to dowse?" he inquired as she hit the floor and padded toward the kitchen.
"A map of New York, a piece of string, and something silver."
"Then we're not going out."
"No, I should be able to find everything I need right here. Did you want another exciting day?" She smirked at him.
He returned it. "That was an irritating day, not an exciting one. Exciting days mean someone is suffering."
"I was suffering," she told him archly, hands on hips.
He laughed. "Exciting days mean someone I don't like is suffering."
"Better." Still eyeing him sulkily, she started to rummage through the drawers in the kitchenette. "Hmm. Maybe there'll be a map down at the security desk."
"I'm to accompany you even if you so much as step out of the apartment," he informed her. "Though I was rather ineffective yesterday."
"Well, no less than I was," she returned cheerfully.
He shook his head. "You managed to kill the biokinetic. And without lifting a finger…"
"Which was good, because I was in no shape to lift a finger…"
He smiled at her, golden eye narrowing. "Your goddess answered your call."
Sabbath flushed slightly. "Look, Farf. It's not like I have Her ear exclusively or anything. She answered, yes, but She answers ALL Her faithful children, and really, anyone who calls on Her as long as their cause is worth Her time. And you'd be surprised at how little pride Kali has about who to grant help and who to withhold it from. As you said: She answered my call, and all I wanted was the death of one psychic."
"A psychic who was harming you, her follower and priestess. Was that not a matter of pride?"
"It might have been," Sabbath admitted, solemn, "but first and foremost, I am Her daughter. If someone was tearing your daughter apart from the inside, and she cried to you for help, wouldn't you come down on her attacker like a ton of bricks?"
"I don't have a daughter," he pointed out. "And my family is dead by my unwilling hand."
"They weren't your flesh and blood," she pointed out. "Suspend your disbelief and imagine with me for a moment. Somehow, for some reason, you have a daughter. She is yours to raise as you see fit, to teach and to guard. She has your eyes and your personality, and every time you see her you see a reflection of everything you like and hate most about yourself. She worships you; you're her father, her most beloved parent. Everything you do is a marvel to her, everything you say is her ultimate wisdom. And someone dares to step into your lives. He plunges mental hands into her vibrant little body. He tears apart her lungs, her beating heart. Her heart beats because of you, she breathes because of you, and as he assaults her, her soul is torn away from you. She screams in pain… wouldn't you help her? It's okay to say no, but think about it for a minute."
He raised an eyebrow and settled back, watching her solemnly for a long moment. His eye slowly narrowed, and she began to think he might tell her he couldn't care less what happened to some brat who just happened to be related to him.
"I would make a canvas of his organs," he said matter-of-factly. "I would keep him alive for days of agony before I tore HIM apart from the inside and soaked my hands in his blood."
A smile pulled at her lips. "Exactly."
He considered that for a moment. "I assume that is, more or less, how your goddess feels?"
"I'd assume, yeah." She watched him, eyebrows tilting in concern as he seemed to sink deep into himself. "Farf?"
"You have something to do. I need to think." He was off the bed and headed for the door before she could blink.
"All right," she said quietly, shrugging and glancing toward the window. Damn, but Farf was complex. She had a vague idea what might be going on in his head, but even Schuldich would only have been able to guess. Shaking her head vigorously (and managing to wrench her neck in the process) she swept the ball of emotions tied to Farfarello from the center of her chest. She had to dowse, which required quite a bit of concentration. She tried to think of where Crawford might keep a map of the city, then remembered where she had one. Standing, she made her way toward her room, where New York By Night™ waited on her bookshelf. There were maps inside it, made for game-play but accurate none the less, that she could use. Pulling the slim volume from the shelves, she put it on the floor and opened it to a five boroughs map. She weighted the pages down with a set of stones from her altar, then found a piece of silver yarn and tied a small crystal to it. Closing her eyes, she held the string near the quartz, and let it slide slowly through her fingers.
When her fingers seemed to flare with energy, she stopped and tied a knot at that spot in the yarn. This was her spot. Clipping off the remaining yarn, she let out a breath and sank into a semi-trance state, holding the yarn over the map.
"The One," she murmured, wincing slightly at the insectile chittering that rose in the back of her mind. She sat like that for a long moment, unmoving, concentrating on the pendent. It still swung slightly from her moving it, but it began to slow, and finally stopped.
She began to move it over the map, carefully from top to bottom. It remained mostly still as she circled it over Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens. She moved left, and the pendent began to swing, slowly at first, then into decisive circles.
Sabbath opened her eyes and realized just what idiots they had all been.
X-X-X
"If you had to venture a guess," she said to Crawford several hours later as they each enjoyed a cup of something hot and caffeinated (tea for Sabbath, coffee for Brad), "where would you look for The One first?"
He glanced up and eyed her quietly, obviously trying to determine her motives for asking. She simply returned his gaze, her face emotionless.
"From a strategic viewpoint," she clarified.
He shook his head. "I couldn't say."
"They first appeared in the Bronx. That's where they are. We've scoured that area clean and never found them, but my attempts indicate that that's where they are."
"You'll be sending out teams then?" he inquired politely.
Sabbath nodded. "I tried to dowse again for a more specific area and failed, probably because I was busy beating myself up over not having seen it earlier. But we have less ground to cover now, and more telepaths to cover it with. Are you sure you can't spare Schu?"
Crawford smiled dryly. "If you need him, you're welcome to ask him to come along. I'm sure I could work something out with Takatori."
She glared. "Sure. You say that because you know damned well that he'll tell me where to shove it."
Crawford couldn't resist a chuckle. "Perhaps."
Snorting, Sabbath shook her head. "Fine, I'll see if I can goad him into doing it. I'll probably fail miserably because Schuldich resists goading, but oh well." She put her mug of tea down and glanced around paranoidly. Nobody else was in the living room, though she knew both Nagi and Farfarello were home.
"Crawford, about our deal…"
"Having second thoughts?" He smirked at her, but behind the glasses, his blue eyes were hard.
She shook her head. "No. But I don't think Eszet really understands what they're missing out on with the Inconnu. I'm already fairly certain they're going to screw us over if they find out. Do you suppose you could… understate our abilities in your reports?"
He shook his head. "Of course not. And if you have that much power among you, why should Schwarz make any difference to you? If that cryokinetic I saw was any indication, you shouldn't need our aid."
"We do need your aid," she said quietly. "Lack of unity is perhaps the one Achilles heel of the Inconnu. With Eszet in their midst, they'll stick together. You know, me against you, us against the world."
He slowly lowered his coffee, watching her. "And that's why you accepted Schwarz's involvement. To force the Inconnu to unite."
She shrugged. "That's part of it."
"You have potential, my dear," Crawford said sardonically.
"Maybe, but I only manipulate people in ways that will benefit them," she said dryly. "Bad karma, dontcha know."
He chuckled. "And how does this scenario fit into your idea of karma?"
"It doesn't." She glanced up at him, pretty face solemn. She looked incredibly young, for her age, perhaps fifteen at most. "I make my own choices and decisions, and I made this choice. Don't tell me you're starting to develop a conscience, Crawford. That would be damned inconvenient."
"Perish the thought," he returned, "but pardon me if I find it amusing how you cling to your religion even when reality doesn't mesh with it."
"Well, it's better than believing in myself as god," she told him with a mockingly sweet smile. "What happens if you fail? That little illusion comes crashing down and everyone realizes just how human you are."
His eyes narrowed. "I don't intend to fail, and don't presume to know my goals, for myself OR for Schwarz. You are the outsider here, Sabbath. Outside, among your people, we are the odd ones out, but keep your future in mind."
"If I did that, you and Schuldich might be having a very uncomfortable chat," Sabbath shot back at him. "He might hate me, but he hates Eszet more."
"I'm aware of that. None the less, he serves Eszet faithfully because he understands that there is no other life for him."
She shook her head, eyes narrowing in thought. "Whatever. I haven't forgotten."
"I hadn't anticipated that you would forget. And I am not enough of a fool to think you won't find a way to defend your compatriots. I'm also not enough of a fool to think that whatever you do, Eszet won't predict it. So since we understand each other on that issue, perhaps we should simply let the matter lie. I will do what my orders from The Mainframe dictate, you will do what your heart and your love for these ragamuffin psychics dictates, and we shall see who comes out ahead."
"Yes," she said coldly, standing and leaving her tea behind. "We shall see."
"Rinse your mug," he reminded her as she headed for the living room, and she snorted.
"Do dirty dishes annoy you, Crawford?" Turning, her eyes and teeth flashed ferally at him. "Why do you think I left it?"
She disappeared and Crawford sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Teenagers," he murmured with a smirk, returning his attention to the business section of the newspaper.
X-X-X
Sabbath was lying on her bed when Nagi went to look in on her, hands folded behind her head, eyes trained on the ceiling. One leg was hanging off the bed, giving her the appearance of having just flopped down and decided to stay. Perhaps she had.
"Something's wrong," he said simply as he sat on the edge of the mattress, next to that leg.
"Aren't you a genius," she said deadpan. "A lot's wrong with the entire world, blue-eyes. It doesn't necessarily have anything to do with me."
He shook his head, looking both young and solemn. "Something's wrong with you, though. I won't pry if you don't want me to, but I thought it would be worth a try to see what's bugging you."
She took a breath and let it out slowly, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "Sacrifice. And martyrdom. Anyway, I talked to Fell and gave him instructions to pass along to the others. They're not happy that I'm here. They want me home, with them. I get the feeling they don't trust you." Her lips quirked upward at the corners.
"They shouldn't. We're untrustworthy, though I understand our fidelity can be bought for the right amount of money."
She chuckled. "Ah, blue-eyes, my little sociopath. You fuck people over for a living and it doesn't bother you a bit. Maybe one of these days I'll be that selfish. I look forward to it, too. Caring about others hurts."
"Nobody cared about me until Schwarz," Nagi said firmly. "We're a fucked-up family, but it's still a family. And I'd rather sell my soul than my body."
"But the body's just a shell. Soul's eternal. Which doesn't mean I don't give a shit what happens to MY body, but I do place more value on my soul. My soul is ME."
"Everything you are is you," Nagi countered. "You walk into a room and the room vibrates with a sense of you-ness. That's why Schuldich is downing headache medicine like there's no tomorrow."
She laughed. "I know, he can't wait to get rid of me. He should get out some more… there's a potential relationship waiting for him out there."
"Says who?" Nagi inquired curiously.
Sabbath waved a hand. "Says me and my personal oracle. I've done readings on you, Schu, and Crawford. None on Farf so far, none on The One, none on myself. Not recently, anyway. I will; it's always best to go into battle prepared, as Sun Tzu would say. But not now. I don't want to know what bad things might be in store."
"But if you avoid hearing about the bad things, you also avoid the reassurance of hearing good things," He pointed out. "Doesn't it go both ways?"
"With Crawford on our side, I can afford to procrastinate in this area. I always draw a rune in the morning just to see what the day will bring. Lately, the results haven't been encouraging. Makes me want to just stay in bed." She sighed quietly, then gathered herself and sat up. "Tell you what, baby. Let's take Farf and go get some ice cream."
"Ice cream?" He gave her a bemused look.
She nodded. "Yes, ice cream. It's a hot and sunny day, perfect for walking and ice cream, and I need to get out of this apartment. You do too – you've been cooped up with your laptop for hours. Your legs probably don't cramp anymore, but getting some blood flow into them would be good. You're not walking as much here as you would if you were home and in school." As she talked, she moved around her room, finding a pair of sandals and slipping them onto her feet, hunting down her sunglasses, and pulling a hat onto her head, a brown Stetson that somehow looked entirely appropriate on her. It might have been the faded low-riser jeans or the way the halter-top exposed certain lengths of flawless white skin.
"Gothic cowgirl?" he teased, and she mimed shooting a gun at him.
"Shut up and get out of that sweatshirt. You'll roast." She surged toward the door and caught the frame, swinging around it and toward Farf's room, next door and down the hall. He heard her chant something.
"Inner demons raping me
my blackened twin escaping me
I trust myself
And lose myself
In Amber-eyed Insanity…."
"You're sick," he called after her, and heard her giggle just before she knocked on Farf's door.
The sun beat down mercilessly on all three of their heads as they walked to Baskin Robbins™, Sabbath interchanging a shuffle-skip-step with her normal pace every few seconds or so and doing full pivots to avoid people who crossed her path. How she could dance when the air was so stifling, Nagi didn't know. Farfarello moved like a panther behind him, silent and graceful, as always. And still wearing black. He wasn't sweating, and when Nagi brushed up against his bare arm, his skin was cool. He was a bit paranoid, fully expecting The One to attack them on their little outing, but even given his fears and the muggy weather, it was good to be out of his room. And rather amusing to watch Sabbath brazenly order a triple-scoop chocolate ice-cream cone, hands on her hips as if daring anyone to comment on her sugar or fat intake. The clerk most certainly didn't, handing her her cone and boredly calling, "next?"
After he and Farfarello had both been served (cookie dough for Nagi and strawberry for Farfarello) they proceeded to wander along the streets, gazing into windows, people-watching, and generally being overheated and useless. Even though New York was incredibly busy, there was at least room to spread his elbows and turn in a circle, which was more than could be said for Tokyo. Of course, the people were coarser here. There were no real manners, and nobody seemed to have a sense of personal space. They pushed and jostled and didn't seem to care if they infringed on you, and Nagi made several quick saves to keep from losing his ice cream cone altogether.
Sabbath seemed happier outside, and the outing wasn't necessarily unpleasant. It was probably worthy it just to see Farfarello chomping contentedly at a strawberry ice cream cone, though the color put a few unpleasant thoughts in Nagi's head as to why he might have chosen it. They found a fountain to sit on, and Sabbath found a penny on the sidewalk. She fingered it for a moment, then gave it to Nagi.
"Make a wish and throw it in."
He blinked. "But… I don't have a wish. I mean, I wouldn't know what to wish for."
She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It can be something huge or small, important or stupid. The universe doesn't care what you wish for, it'll still do its best to give it to you if you wish sincerely. Now, make a wish."
He held the penny between his fingers and stared at it as he tried to think. His fingers tingled. The coin felt… almost charged… "What did you do to it?" he demanded of Sabbath.
She laughed. "NAGI. For the gods' sakes, make a wish and throw the damned penny in the fountain!"
He frowned at her and she elbowed him in the ribs, so he sighed and twisted around. The penny was still making his fingers tingle. Thinking for a moment, he held the penny tightly. It wasn't really a wish in the sense of "I wish …." But he sent his thoughts into it as best he could and then pitched it toward one of the fountain's upper tiers. It landed with a splash.
Sabbath grinned.
"It was really more like two wishes," Nagi mumbled, feeling embarrassed for engaging in such a childish act.
She shrugged. "I don't think The Powers That Be mind. We all have a million wishes and a million dreams. They change every day. Some last, some don't. You're no different than anybody else in that respect."
"What would you wish for, Farf?" Nagi asked, changing the subject so he was no longer the focus and tapping Farfarello's leg.
He thought that over for a moment. "You know my true wish already. The death of The Liar, his façade stripped away, and his downfall. It's my greatest wish."
"But you have smaller wishes," Sabbath prodded.
"No. That would only serve to distract my focus." He gazed evenly at the nothing straight ahead of him. "There can be no distraction. God's agents are cunning and they are everywhere."
"But God's agents are priests and church mothers," Sabbath said gently. "Not much of a threat, unless I'm missing something."
"God also numbers the law enforcement among his agents. Do they not uphold justice? Do they not protect his flock? The meek ones are no threat to me, but the judges would kill me if they could."
"Sometimes you sound incredibly paranoid," Nagi murmured.
Farf turned that amber gaze onto him and Nagi smirked. "I am not paranoid if the world really IS out to get me," he said darkly.
"Even if it's your fault that the world is out to get you, Mr. serial killer?" Sabbath teased.
Farfarello glared mildly at her. "God began this war. I will end it."
"And I don't doubt you," she said quietly. "But I'm just pointing out the obvious: it takes two to tango."
"Then we will dance until one of us falls in flames."
She smirked. "I had a feeling you'd say that. So between you and God, who's the better dancer?"
"I suppose we will see," he replied, smirking back at her. "But my homeland had a saying; never give a sword to a man who cannot dance." He took her wrist and guided her hand until she could feel the hilt of one of his many knives hidden under his clothing. "Mine is the dance of blood and pain, of tears and suffering. I have never faltered, never missed a step. On the bodies of his chosen ones, I dance with joy and malice. I am wickedness, come to oppose goodness. You think I don't really understand all that entails, but I DO. Without goodness, there can be no wickedness, so when I destroy God, I will destroy myself. But God has already destroyed me. He accomplished that the day he shattered my life. To fall with him would only be the completion of the cycle. I returned as a demon to make him suffer. Once my work is done, I will die as I should have."
"But God is the dance of everything," she reminded him. "He's bigger than you are. You might hurt him with every life you take but you won't kill him. As long as an atom remains to vibrate in its place, God exists."
"I will do whatever it takes," he said quietly, and she smiled.
"Perhaps you should rethink your tactics." He bristled and she squeezed his hand. "I just meant that maybe you should kill him where it really matters, since you won't be able to destroy the essence of divinity."
"And you know how to do this."
"Oh, sure," she said lightly. "Do what I did. Kill him here." She tapped his chest, then scooted over away from him and next to Nagi.
He watched her impassively. Kill God in his heart? He had done that already, many, many times, directing all his hatred and all his anger at God and feeling him cringe at the strength of it. The Maker's tears had rained down upon him on many occasions, but only served to fuel his rage. No, there was only one way for God to die; screaming. And he would be the one to make it so.
They returned to the apartment in relative silence. They were not accosted. On some level, Nagi was almost disappointed. The tension could have been cut with a knife and he was tired of waiting for The One to attack. He wanted something to happen and break the stalemate, though, given how Sabbath seemed predisposed to be caught in the crossfire, that might not have been a great idea. She wasn't psychic, after all.
Though, all things considered, Farfarello was a great bodyguard.
X-X-X