it in a schoolyard-taunting sort of way, thank God, or they might have killed us there. It seemed he was genuinely trying to learn things… but I could tell it was grating on Zo’s and Judith’s nerves. Once, Zo snapped her fingers, trying to get his attention; then, for an hour, I had to deal with Asa next to me, trying over and over to snap. When he started to nod off while walking, I whistled short and fast, to keep him from falling in his traces and taking us both down. And then, of course, he had to try to learn to whistle.
“Cut it out, songbird,” Zo said. “Or I’ll bury a bullet in your back.”
That shut him up.
“I don’t get it,” I whispered. “You can do magic tricks but you can’t snap or whistle?”
Asa shrugged. “I was created knowing how to do magic tricks,” he whispered. “Learning human things like this is something else. Besides, it keeps my mind off things.” He rolled his tongue into a tube. “Can you do this?” he said. “I heard that not everyone can.”
“Asa, I swear to God—” I started.
“Y’all got something to say?” Judith said.
“No, ma’am,” said Asa.
“‘Ma’am,’” Judith snorted. “You gotta stop with all this ‘ma’am’ and ‘miss’ and ‘ladies’ stuff. This ain’t 1843, you know.”
“Sorry,” said Asa. “Old habits die hard, I suppose.”
“Well, kill them faster,” said Zo.
Old habits, I thought. He’s been a human for, what? A month?
“What’s your deal anyway, Harold?” Judith said, turning and walking backward as she held the rope that bound us together. “I know this one’s that old hag’s Successor, but what are you? You some kinda preacher or snake oil salesman or something? You Little Miss Successor’s boyfriend?”
“Ew, no!” I said, my voice sounding more disgusted than I meant to.
“You sure?” Judith’s eyes flickered from me to Asa.
“Our Successor here isn’t the boyfriend type, if you know what I mean,” said Zo. She looked me up and down, then smiled smugly. “There isn’t a man alive who could tie her down.”
My insides seemed to crinkle in irritation. “I don’t know what you’re getting at—”
“To answer your question, I am simply a magician,” Asa said, cutting me off before I could get us killed. “Of the street-performing variety.”
“And a daemon,” I added under my breath, but no one heard me.
“Oh, Cassie will like this, Zo,” said Judith, her eyes lighting up. “Maybe the boss’ll keep him alive long enough to do a few tricks?”
“Don’t give them false hope,” Zo scolded. “It’s rude. Besides, we don’t want any of the kind of nonsense they pulled back in Elysium. You saw all that smoke.” She looked back at us and shook her head. “Not worth our time.”
“Well, I hope you get to do some tricks, anyway,” said Judith, patting Asa on the shoulder.
“Thank you,” said Asa, growing pale even in the darkness. “I appreciate the sentiment.”
There was a noise to our right, and I saw Zo’s body tense in the moonlight.
“Quick! Down!” she hissed. She dove behind a massive cluster of tumbleweeds, and we felt ourselves yanked off our feet as Judith slung us behind her.
“Don’t make a sound,” Zo whispered. “Don’t even think of it or I will kill you. Do you understand?”
We nodded. Then we heard the sound of distant voices, loud, crass. Men’s voices. We froze. Zo had her guns cocked and ready. Judith had a big stick in her hand, ready to club someone to death.
A group of men came out from behind a ridge then. There were twelve of them, all big, all shirtless, their once-pale bodies baked pink by the sun, now a mottled color in the moonlight. Some wore what looked like handmade dust masks, all metal and glass, over their mouths; some had old dust masks around their necks. All of them carried weapons that looked like modified clubs and spears and guns, and the ones who weren’t carrying guns were carrying what looked like pieces from old trucks and tractors. But what was most striking about them were the black designs painted across their bodies. Biblical designs like crosses and serpents and skulls, painted in something greasy and pungent. Axle grease, I realized when the wind blew their stink our way. Axle grease and—I squinted—yes: blood spatter. They had killed something recently. Or someone. I shuddered and kept still, trying not to breathe.
“The Laredo Boys,” Judith whispered, voice thick with hatred.
“And there’s Samson out front,” said Zo. “I wonder what they’re doing all the way out