Chapter 13. Wherein Riddick Helps Out

It got very, very cold. Then he was in a garden, with Jack, Jack as the little girl he'd left on New Mecca. She was standing her ground, impossibly brave, as a winged man with a flaming sword stalked towards her. Fuck that, Riddick though. Got a running start, leapt. Jack shrieked in a charmingly girlish fashion. He felt wings ripping under his fingers.

0o0

"The further back we go," Lobsang said, seriously, "the more disruptions. And the more power it takes to fix it."

Susan sat down at Death's study, a book open and heavily tabbed. "We've killed him three times, and each time some other Lord Marshal takes the fleet into the threshold, and everything goes all Librarian Poo. We're right back where we started, only without any back story. Can't kill them because my library doesn't have books on them." She ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated.

"We could ask the Librarian for help," Lobsang said. "There are other books in other libraries."

Susan shrugged, irritated. "The Librarian likes him. Just like Binkey. I can't believe I'm hiding from my own horse. They'd figure it out. We need another solution. One that disrupts the Necromongers before any of them can take the fleet across the threshold."

"Well," Lobsang said, slowly. "Maybe Zhylaw's really the key. We do know one time and place Zhylaw was." The pages riffled all the way back to the beginning. "We know he tried to kill Riddick at birth. We could take them both out at once . . ."

Susan sighed. "Worth a try, I guess. Let's do it now." She gripped the scythe. Lobsang took her hand, and they stepped into someone else's history.

0o0

A house. A woman in the house, screaming, gasping, defiant, broken.

Susan and Lobsang stayed in the shadows.

An infant squalled. There was a wet snap, and the woman went quiet. The baby cried harder.

Susan and Lobsang stayed in the shadows.

The baby went quiet.

A military man stumbled out. He had blood on his hands.

Susan and Lobsang stayed in the shadows. As he passed, Susan reached forth and touched him with the scythe. He stumbled, fell, and went still.

Susan and Lobsang left the shadows. Susan put her hand on the door. There was a click of a lock. Susan turned grimly and stomped down the road towards a little girl who was cautiously approaching.

Susan smiled at the girl, who, once upon another time, had walked down that road, heard a sound, investigated, went through an unlocked door and found the blasted corpse of a woman and a new born baby with an umbilical cord wrapped tight around his throat. Once upon another time, that girl had unwound that cord, and the child had taken a deep breath. Once upon another time, the girl had lied, claimed to have found the child on another day, in another place. The child lived, grew, killed, conquered, and made friends with a horse. Once upon another time.

But this time, the girl was distracted. It would be days and days before the corpses would be found.

Susan and Lobsang returned to the shadows. And then they left.

0o0

"You did it again," Angua said, accusingly. Riddick blinked at her. The angel with the flaming sword drained away.

I am fucking sick, Riddick thought, of these cold snaps. Irrelevantly, I wonder what the hell Susan's doing?

"And what the hell did you just do?"

Riddick rolled his shoulders. "Dunno. Something I picked up at my last job."

"You didn't – you didn't reach in and take that guy's soul, did you?"

"Yeah. I think I did."

"What the hell was your last job?"

"Lord Marshal of the Necromongers."

"I don't know what that means."

"Me neither."

Angua stared at him, clearly unsettled. She signaled a gargoyle to send a message to collect the bodies, and they loped back to their rounds.

"So when Susan's gone, people don't die?"

"Yeah."

"Ah." She hesitated. "That happened once. People stopped dying. It got very strange. It got . . . bad."

He chewed on that for a moment. "Huh."

"It hurts to die."

"Wouldn't know." Don't you? What the hell happened on Cremetoria anyway? He fixedly did not look at Angua. Almost missed it when she headed down a new avenue. "Where you goin'?"

"We're going to a hospital," she said. "One where people go to die. I think – I think you're going to be needed there."

She was right.

Riddick was damn glad when the dying re-started without him.

0o0

Days later, Matilda, the witch he had met his first day on the Discworld, came to visit. She landed her broomstick in the court yard of the guard's and marched up to Riddick. "You." She said in contempt. "Of course it would be you. Come with me."

"Why?"

Matilda glared at him. "It's happened again. Death's gone. I've got – I've got a patient. She should be dead. But she can't die. She's in agony. I cast the bones, and they sent me here. You can fix it."

Riddick stared at her, about to tell her to fuck off. Angua cleared her throat meaningfully. She followed it up with a meaningful meeting of the eyes. He sighed. "I might – I might be able to help."

Matilda's eyes narrowed like Susan's would have. "You better. Come on." She swung up on the broomstick.

Oh you've got to be kidding.

Riding a horse behind a girl was one thing. A fucking broomstick? Riding in the back of a fucking broomstick? When's that gonna get fun?

The witch fixed him with a glare. With a sigh, he hooked a leg over the back, and the thing raised smoothly.

It was not a pleasant ride. After far too long, she landed at a farm house, took him – through the back door – into a sick room. A girl, ten, eleven, wasted away on the bed. A woman, probably her mother, looked up. So many tears had dried on the woman's face you could see the salt.

"Any change?" Matilda asked, gently.

The woman shook her head. "She woke up. She kept begging. Saying she'd be good. . ."

"I gave her so much laudanum she shouldn't feel anything." The witch's voice was quiet. "Helped for a while. Now it does nothing."

"Any hope?" Riddick asked quietly.

The witch shook her head. "No. There is too much damage. She should be dead. Death – death will be a mercy."

Riddick looked at the girl's mother.She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I just want the pain to stop."

Riddick sighed. Stepped forward. Put his hand on the child's chest. She blinked up on him with eyes that were no longer human.

He blinked his own eyes, and the body dissolved into light. Most people were gold and green, shot through with other colors. Red was pain, he knew that somehow. This girl was red, flecked with gold and green. He closed his eyes, but the image remained. All pain.

"Relax," he whispered. "I'm here." He reached in, trying to find the buried gold, leave the red behind. Leave the pain behind. It was hard, but finally his fingers caught golden gossamers, and he pulled and pulled and pulled.

With a finally rattling cough, the red settled back into the body, which relaxed at last. The pitifully small cloud of gold and green smiled at him.

"I'll be good," it promised.

What the fuck are they teaching these kids? Riddick thought. He couldn't bring himself to even mouth the words. He just nodded, turned, and walked away as the mother sobbed over her daughter's cooling body.

I can't keep doing this, he thought. That night in the hospice, taking one life after another, the rounds afterwards -- Riddick closed his eyes. He couldn't stand another night like that. He'd do it if Angua asked. Getting' soft.

Matilda followed him out. "Thank you." Her voice was actually soft.

"Why me?"

The witch smiled. "Bones said you're the closest thing to death around."

"I want to talk to Susan." Riddick said, abruptly.

"Me too." Matilda stared into the middle distance. "There's a way . . . not a witch way, but a way. The Rite of AsheKente. I know a guy. Come on."

Riddick didn't even complain about the broomstick this time. Might not have been a solar chariot, but it got the job done. He even managed to doze, dreaming of walking with Jack and a lion down a moonlit path towards the black hole threshold, past a statue of a woman with a sword in one hand and a scales in the other.

0o0

"Why isn't this working??" Susan hit a tree. It crumbled into sawdust. Lobsang patted her hand and made a quick furtive gesture. The tree reformed. Susan scowled.

"We've killed him a dozen times. Zhylaw, Vaako, his wife, it just doesn't matter! The Necromongers go into the damn Underverse no matter what!"

"Maybe we don't know what we're doing," Lobsang said slowly.

"Of course we don't!"

"Maybe we should talk to someone?"

Susan blinked. "Who'dya have in mind?"

0o0

The teenager's fists were gripped so tight it was a wonder she wasn't drawing blood from her palms. "I'm not gonna talk to you."

Susan smiled at her. Riddick's not-girlfriend, at fourteen, was defensive and gangly, tom-boyish and panicking.

"It's alright, dear. We're friends. Tell me about Riddick."

To Susan's surprise, Jack fought The Voice. No one ever fought The Voice. No one even noticed The Voice. Susan pushed, and Jack's defenses drained away. The girl's voice went small. "He saved me from monsters."

"What was he like?"

"Big. Strong. Alone. Didn't like anyone but me, and he didn't really like me much."

"What does he want?"

Jack scowled. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Jack's face twisted. "Only thing I ever saw him want was to get rid of me."

"What do you mean?"

"He wanted me safe." Jack's eyes were bright with tears. "I get it. He told me once – he told me once I'm the closest thing to family he ever had. He used to call me his kid sister. He loved me. I loved him. Then he left me. It was the right thing. I couldn't be safe with him. He killed anyone who looked at me wrong, but some day, he was going to get caught, and then what? He wanted me safe. I miss him every fucking day."

Susan could feel the girl beginning to the fight The Voice again. She pushed one last time. "What do you think he'd do if something happened to you?"

Jack started to laugh, slightly hysterically. "I think he'd kill a lot of people until he felt better and then he'd move on. Who are you?"

Susan smiled sweetly. "A friend. Not one you will remember," she said, using The Voice one last time. And then Lobsang wrapped her in his cloak and the two of them were gone.

0o0

"Ponder Stibbons," Riddick said, heavily. The man blinked up at him in shock. "I need you."

"Good heavens, why?"

"Wanna talk to Death."

"'The End of Hope, the Friend of the Friendless, the Surcease of Pain?'" Ponder said, weakly. "You want to talk to him?"

"Her," Riddick said, flatly. "It's a girl these days."

Ponder started to pace, nervously. "Rite of AshkEnte. Four cc's of mouse blood, a fresh egg and two sticks."

Matilda held up a small sack. "Right here, ducky."

Ponder swallowed. "I can do it. But – why?"

Riddick shrugged. "Just wanna talk to an old friend."

It didn't take long at all. A rough circle, a muttered incantation, and there she was. Susan. Carrying the scythe and looking annoyed. She wasted no time glaring at him.

"You left me," he said, accusingly.

She fixed him with A Look. "I left you? You stole my horse! Now what do you want? I'm busy trying to save the frelling universe!"

He licked his lips, feeling foolish. "I wanna help," he muttered.

"What?"

"I said," he said, with greater deliberation. "That I want to help."

She almost dropped the scythe. "Good god, why?"

He swallowed. "Look. When you leave, people – people get hurt. And they stay hurt. I – I wanna help end this."

She looked at him, and he had the sense she was looking all the way down. She nodded abruptly. "You've been filling in," she said, with some wonder. "Locally. Okay. You can help." She smiled. "Now break the circle." Ponder squeaked.

"Don't!"

"Huh?"

"You break the circle, she gets out!" Ponder squeaked.

Susan turned to look at him. "Ponder Stibbons," she said, her voice dropping. Her hair uncoiled around her head and a robe materialized on her shoulders. "I will remember you, Ponder Stibbons." The temperature started to drop.

Suddenly, Binky was there. Riddick's eyes stung slightly. God damn, I've missed the horse. With a foot, he scuffed the circle. She stalked forward. He offered her a leg up the horse, which she took without looking at him. He mounted behind her, and they left Ponder to gibber on alone.