Page 32 of The Shade of Things
“You didn’t discount a devil,” Eli said.
“Don’t be melodramatic,” Tatiana said. “Although…no one knows how Route 666 works to get you where you want to go, just that it does.” The artist uncapped the first tube, squirting paint onto a palette. “I suspect dark magic.”
Was it more disturbing that she’d dropped that bombshell in a completely conversational tone of voice or that other than my stomachache growing worse, I accepted that fact and carried on, instead of running and screaming like a sane person would?
“You’re so screwed.” Emmett blew some dust off the end of a brush.
Eli folded his arms. “What’s the catch of using this route?”
Tatiana added two more blobs of color onto the thin board. “It has a ninety-nine percent fatality rate among riders. But desperate times.”
“Not that desperate,” I protested.
“How do the one percent survive?” Eli said.
“Extreme wealth.” She dipped her blunt palette knife in the bright orange, then at our deafening silence, peered around the canvas. “Oh. You mean the passengers.”
Eli shot me an “is she for real?” look.
“People who own villas think differently,” I said. “Assuming you have a foolproof way for us to use this route, what do we travel in? A car? The back of a dragon?” I snapped my fingers. “Do we get comfy on a unicorn’s horn?”
“You’ve got a weird idea of comfort, toots.” Emmett pulled a bottled green smoothie out of a bar fridge that was buried under a jumble of charcoal pencils and dog-eared notebooks.
“I was being sarcastic,” I said, my jaw tight.
“It’s a train car. Pod.” Tatiana scraped her knife against the palette. “It’s safe, but the trouble is boarding it. There are things that live in the gap between the platform and the rails that snatch hopeful commuters down.”
“Get real,” Eli said. “Even with magic strength it couldn’t pull me through a gap. My limbs would break off.”
“Thank you for that charming visual,” I said.
Tatiana grabbed the smoothie and took a long slurp of green sludge. “I never said you would be whole when they did it.” She held up the bottle in cheers.
Ew. I shuddered. “What if I cloak us? Odds are the monsters won’t see us or hear our heartbeats.”
“Oh no.” Eli shook his head. “Do you remember Vegas?”
“For the five hundredth time, I was drunk. The odds are in our favor on this.”
“Even if you’re correct,” Tatiana said, “if you’re cloaked, the pod won’t stop. It has to see you.” She shoved the half-empty bottle back at Emmett.
“Good luck.” The golem flashed me a thumbs-up.
“That’s why you’re going with them,” she said.
“Wait—what?!” He shook his head, capping the bottle and putting it on the table. “No way, lady.”
“You’ve been kvetching all week about how bored you are. It’ll do you good to get out.”
Eli eyed the golem speculatively.
“Stop looking at me like that!” Emmett covered his crotch and chest with his hands. “I’m not bait, asshole.”
“You don’t have a heartbeat, tattele,” Tatiana said. “The Morph won’t register you.”
“Oh good,” I said faintly. “The monsters have a name.”
“An arch supervillain one,” Eli muttered in a disgusted voice. “Is that a collective moniker or singular?”
