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The Shonin says, “Drink all you want, dummy. You won’t find God in a bottle.”
“I already found God,” I say. “That’s why I drink.”
I hand Candy the flask and she takes a quick gulp before putting it in her pocket. I’m used to Aqua Regia’s kick, but down enough at once and it’s going to turn anyone’s cerebral cortex into chocolate pudding. I let it and the tea do their work. They fight it out in my stomach. The Hellion hoodoo wrestling whatever kind of magic Mr. Bones uses. My stomach cramps and for a few seconds I want to throw up. But I hold on a
nd the feeling passes. The room gets thin, like it’s made of black gauze. I put the crow feather between my teeth just as I fall out of myself.
I’m standing on an alkali plain stretching out flat and cracked in all directions. In the far distance is a shaft of light, but it never moves. The sky is dim, like just before sunrise or after sunset. Flip a coin to decide. The air is thick and hard to breathe. I wouldn’t want to have to run a marathon here.
The dead man wanders around shivering. Probably from being on ice for so long. I’m glad it worked and I didn’t have to come halfway to Hell for nothing.
The dead man stumbles back a couple of steps when he sees me. A second later he recognizes me and starts over, a little cautious.
I say, “Joseph Hobaica.”
He stops.
“How do you know my name?”
“We’re standing in fuckall limbo and that’s your first question? It’s just a little trick I can do.”
He looks around, hands across his chest, holding on to his shoulders, shaking.
“Where are we?”
“I just told you. Limbo. Halfway between Hell and Heaven. You’re dead. Remember?”
His face changes. Things start coming back to him. Death can be a real kick in the ass, especially a death like Hobaica’s. Sometimes it takes awhile for spirits to come back to themselves.
“This isn’t right,” he says. “This isn’t where I should be. Where’s the Flayed Heart?”
Now we’re getting somewhere.
“I know that name. It’s a nickname for one of the Angra Om Ya. A big goddamn carnivorous flower. Her real name is Zhuyigdanatha, right?”
He drops his hands to his sides. Narrows his eyes at me.
“You know nothing about the Flayed Heart.”
“I know it’s easier to say than Zhuyig-fucking-danatha.”
“Don’t blaspheme her name.”
“You can knock that off right now. I’ve already got one schoolmarm worrying about my language. I don’t need two.”
Hobaica turns in a dazed circle.
“I don’t understand. Where’s the fire? Why is my body still intact?”
“Maybe you blew your ritual. Remember that? It’s where we met.”
“You were the witness to our sacrifice. An ordinary, mortal man shattered by such a holy rite was our way to paradise.”
“And yet here you are. Downtown Nowheresville. Like the view?”
Hobaica comes at me.
“You did this.”
