“Neither,” he answers. “We are both at the West’s mercy, aren’t we, Tinman?”
I spit the cork and it bounces across the floor, disappearing beneath a table.
I hate that he’s right.
If he and I weren’t two sides of the same coin, I think we’d get along like brothers. Hell, I like him more than I like my middle brother, so I’d happily replacehimwith a winged monkey.
“Just… find her. But wait for me when you do.”
He growls again and his soldiers square up around him, sensing the ripple of energy on the air.
Faos isn’t magic, exactly, but he does wield a fair amount of control over his soldiers based on primal instinct alone. If he’s ordering a fight, they’re fighting. Doesn’t matter who the target is. Doesn’t matter if it’s the heartless Tinman or the Great and Powerful Wizard or the entire animal kingdom.
The only one they aren’t fighting is the Witch of the West. Because of the charmed mask. But I have my theories about that.
“On me,” Faos orders.
They follow behind him, marching out of the inn in a line.
In the heavy darkness of night and cursed skies, the monkeys are only shadowed silhouettes against the golden burn of the streetlights. I watch Faos point, giving orders. They’re fanning out, covering as much ground as possible.
When he’s done, his soldiers take to the air, their massive wings kicking up a swirl of dust before disappearing into the sky.
“Girl,” I call.
The East Ender hiccups in surprise. She’s hiding in the shadows between the dining room and the kitchen.
“I need a needle, thread, a clean cloth, and more alcohol.”
She doesn’t move.
“Now,” I bark, and she lurches into action.
I take down another swill of whisky, trying to ignore the burning call of Oil.
Everything is starting to hurt. Every joint is achy, every muscle tight and raw.
Not for the first time, I’m asking myself how much Oil is too much Oil. If this pull will be the last one if I give in.
There’s always more Oil to buy, to shoot straight into my veins.
But I am not immortal.
Someday I will reach a point where the temptation will lead me astray, when the addiction will finally get the best of me.
Today is not that day though. Not if I want to retrieve the girl and save Gabriel.
Once he’s free, I don’t give a fuck what happens.
None of this fucking matters.
I hate all these people.
I right one of the chairs that got knocked over in the fighting and take a seat by the fire. The log on the stone hearth is crackling with flames.
In the kitchen, pots and pans are knocking around as the girl searches for the supplies.
I lean back in the chair, spread my legs out, close my eyes, and breathe.
