Blind God's Bluff A Billy Fox Novel - By Richard Lee Byers Page 0,35

didn’t make me feel any happier about what was happening. But I kept following her anyway, even after I heard the panting and grunting.

The noises came from one of the scaly little finheads. Except that he almost wasn’t scaly anymore. He had too many scars crisscrossing his body, and the crest leaned to the side and had holes in it, like Swiss cheese. He was grunting and gasping as he strained to break the nylon zip restraints that held his hands behind his back and his ankles together. When he spotted A’marie and me in the doorway, he tried to scream instead, but the leather gag muffled the sound.

He lay on the floor on the floor of a storage room with empty shelves, give or take a few old cans of peaches and fruit cocktail. A finhead female and two finhead boys stood around him. His family, I suspected. They were scarred up, too, though not as much. The female had a broken nose and was missing the top of her left ear. The smaller kid had lost the tips of two fingers, and had an oval made of tooth marks on his forearm.

“Thank you,” A’marie said. “I know how hard it is to move him. And that you ran a risk sneaking him in.”

The finhead woman shrugged. “You said it would help.” She scowled at me. “Is it?”

“Is this your husband?” I asked. “What happened to him?” Although I had a hunch I already knew.

Sure enough, she said, “Lord Timon.” She clenched her fist and slashed it back and forth. I’d never seen that particular gesture before, but I was pretty sure it meant she wanted the boss to burn in Hell.

“Why?” I asked.

“My cousin Francisco is a river master in Cuba,” she said. “He wanted to take Ezequiel, my firstborn, to be his apprentice. It was a wonderful opportunity. But Rufino was indentured. He had to beg permission for Ezequiel to leave.”

I assumed that Rufino was the guy squirming on the floor, and that indentured meant almost-a-thrall, maybe almost-a-thrall-till-you-made-good-on-a-debt. “And Timon didn’t appreciate being asked?”

“I was there, Mr. Billy! Rufino was as respectful as anyone could be. He offered to give another year of service. There was no reason for any master to take offense, unless he was just looking for excuses to be cruel!”

“So what happened?” I asked.

“Nothing then. Timon was… nice. He said he’d think about it. But then, the next night, Rufino woke up screaming. Naturally, that woke me up, and I asked him what was wrong. He whipped around, saw me, and attacked me. If the boys hadn’t come running, I think he would have killed me.” He face twisted, and she hid it in her hands.

So Ezequiel, who was wearing a baggy orange-and-white Bucs jersey, took up the story. “Dad’s been this way ever since.” His voice cracked. The finheads weren’t exactly human, but apparently they had to suffer through puberty just like we do. “He wants to hurt everybody, but especially us, and even tying him up doesn’t always help. He still finds ways to hurt himself, to make us come in close to stop him. And then he can get at us.”

“Jesus,” I said.

Mrs. Rufino lifted her head. “The joke,” she said, “was that at the end of the week, Timon sent word that Ezequiel had permission to go. Because he knew he wouldn’t, even if I begged. He’d stay to help take care of his father.”

She, the kids, and A’marie all looked at me expectantly. I couldn’t think of a thing to say that wouldn’t make me look like an asshole. Then I felt a shiver inside my chest.

It was the same thing that had happened after Gimble beat up Clarence. I wanted to help somebody who was hurt, so my mojo was revving up.

I hadn’t helped the little squirrel man because I hadn’t known how. I still didn’t, really. But Timon’s coaching had given me an idea, and at least I felt fully charged. Last night, all I’d done was call up the Thunderbird. It mostly hadn’t helped me, but it hadn’t been all that difficult, either, and maybe I was starting to build some magic muscle.

I pictured the silver bird again, just to get to a magic-y state of mind. Then I reached inside myself. It was like trying to dredge up a memory that doesn’t want to come. But I was looking for Red.

When I felt him, I imagined him growing bigger and bigger inside me, until