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The treetop sways as Candy goes farther out onto the limb to drag it backward. There’s a loud crack and the whole top of the tree comes loose like it’s on a hinge, slamming into the lower branches, upside down but intact. Something falls through the branches. Not falls. Shoots like a bullet and crashes into the lobby floor, kicking up shards of marble and concrete like shotgun pellets.
I run to where it came down, not breathing. Not thinking. My head swims as I go. I stumble but I don’t stop.
In a crater two feet wide and three feet deep lies the 8 Ball. The others crowd around me. I look up at the tree. Branches shake, but this time they’re headed down. A few seconds later, Candy emerges from under the tree and sprints across the lobby, turning back to herself. She’s covered in a fine film of dust and spores and her hair is matted with pine needles. She runs her hand through her hair and shakes her head like a dog, sending dust everywhere.
“Told you I could do it,” she says.
“Good job. Now go take a shower. You smell like a love-hotel welcome mat.”
Hattie stands at the edge of the hole, looking down.
“Don’t look like much, does it?”
Traven says, “The core of the first nuclear bomb was only sixty-four kilograms and it leveled a city.”
“That so? Aren’t you a font of useless information.”
“I didn’t drop it,” says Candy. “It shot away from me when I tried to touch it.”
“Maybe it didn’t like you,” I say. “The father said it might be alive. Maybe your Jade form freaked it out.”
“Touchy little bastard, for a weapon,” says Candy.
I look at Traven.
“Okay, Father. You’re up. Let’s see if it likes you.”
“Do you think it’s safe now?” he says.
“When I had it before it only hurt anyone when I was angry or threatened. As long as you’re calm, it should be fine.”
“Calm,” he says, and looks at me. “That’s a tall order right now.”
Traven’s eyes are a little glassy. He looks far from a hundred percent as he gets on one knee and gently reaches for the 8 Ball.
“You’ll do fine,” I say. “Nice and easy. Look out for any sharp edges. It can nick you.”
He hesitates before reaching down again. Lays his hand on top of the ball and holds it there for a second. Nothing happens. He relaxes and gets a grip on it and pulls it out. He’s smiling when he stands up.
“I think the books were right about it being alive,” he says. “It feels like it’s asleep.”
He brings it over to us. I’d rather have it a mile away, but beggars can’t be choosers.
“We’re all right,” he says. “It’s over.”
“Let’s get out of here and go home,” says Brigitte.
“In a minute,” says Traven. His smile is vacant. There’s something wrong with his eyes.
He turns and hands the 8 Ball to Hattie. She takes it from him like she knew exactly what was going to happen.
I should have seen it before, but I’ve been so wrapped up in my own aches and bullshit that I missed it. One of us isn’t who he seems, said Nefesh. Father Traven is possessed. Someone in Hell is using the possession key. They’ve taken him over and Hattie knew it was going to happen.
“What are you doing?” says Vidocq.
Hattie cradles the 8 Ball against her chest.
“Just doing what he was told,” she says.
