“Fine. Release something about Torin to the public. I will returnonceTorin is healed,” I say.
“That wasn’t the deal.”
“It’s the deal I’m giving you.”
Lt. Lindsey knows that she has little choice, so she gives me a curt nod.
I turn, questioning what I’ve gotten myself into as Imani catches up to me.
“Are you okay with that? I know you chose to quit for… some reason,” she says. “A reason you prefer to keep to yourself.”
“I’ll have to be. We can’t stop this without Torin. And the stronger he is, the better.”
She nods. “Okay.”
True to her word, Lt. Lindsey allows a video of Torin to release, and word spreads of the god who is our only hope. Whoever prepared the clip did a fantastic job to make it appear like Torin is the one who drove the man back through the Door without any help from me at all.
But even after another day, he still doesn’t wake.
“What exactly are we doing?” Mickey asks me.
“We’re taking him to his home. Maybe… maybe he needs the magic from his realm… or something,” I say. “I’ve talked to the doctor, who said that nothing they’ve given him has seemed to change his state and agreed that maybe being surrounded by his magic will help him better than a place like this that has no connection to magic at all.”
He shrugs. “Alright. Sure. Whatever you want. If he dies, I promise I’ll bring him back to life for you.”
I scowl at him. “He’s not dying.”
“I was just trying to be reassuring,” Mickey says as he throws up his hands, as though using necromancy to bring the dead back is the way to go when things get tough.
“Was that reassuring?”
“I don’t know! I assume it is. I bring my dad back from the dead every time I want to say ‘I told you so’ to him. It’s fun,” he informs me while Torin is escorted by a nurse out to Mickey’s car. It’s all rather unorthodox, but they’re short-staffed with all of the people from the fair. Though nothing is as unorthodox as Mickey summoning some undead to cram the god into the back seat.
The nurse looks horrified, but we get into the car and take off before she can report the abuse to some god protective services hotline.
“I really thought the video would work,” I say, feeling disappointed.
“It was a good idea, but maybe he needs like… worshipers, not just like… clicks on the web,” Mickey replies as he’s forced to drive since the god takes up all of the back seat.
“Did you finish reading the book?” I ask, really feeling like he should have started with that if he had.
“I have.”
“And?”
“And I’m sorting my thoughts,” he says.
“That’s all I get?” I ask.
“For now.”
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
“Hey, you read the whole thing and couldn’t figure anything out. Give a very sleepy man a minute to sort his thoughts. Actually, why don’t you drive so I can sleep?” he asks, throwing the car into park at a red light and just diving into my seat.
“What the hell are you doing?” I demand as I’m trampled and crushed while forced to switch seats. The car behind us begins laying on its horn while I’m left scrambling into the driver’s seat. By the time I’m seated, Mickey’s already asleep.
“You’re an ass,” I mutter as I drive all the way to the Door Torin came through in silence. I don’t love driving since I lost my eyesight. Kit is dependable but easily distracted. It’s fine if she randomly looks at a leaf blowing in the wind when I’m walking down the street, but not so much when I’m driving. She tries her best, though, and I only have to fight for her attention once when she sees a dog she thinks she might mess up through the window.
