Redemption Song (Daniel Faust)

by Craig Schaefer

  “But we knew,” Emma said, a slow current of anger welling up in her voice as she stared her husband down. “We all knew.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sullivan said, shaking his head. “So you conducted an elaborate charade and risked your life to steal a manuscript you knew would be worthless? What was the point?”

  “What was the point?” Emma asked Ben. “I want to hear your answer first. You lied to me. You turned your back on our marriage, our—”

  “I did it for Melanie!” Ben shouted, his fear boiling over into rage. “As for you, you…fucking abomination, there isn’t a night I don’t regret marrying you or a day I don’t wake up praying for a way out of the nightmare you made my life. The things I’ve done, the things you’ve made me do, Christ…”

  “Brother Ben came to me looking for absolution,” Sullivan said calmly.

  “I don’t—” Emma said, crossing her arms as her voice hitched. “I mean, we’ve had our problems, but I had no idea—”

  Ben sneered at her. “Of course you didn’t. Nothing exists if it isn’t all about you. Emma, I have hated you for years.”

  She didn’t have anything to say to that. She stared at him, mouth agape, her eyes glistening.

  “I could live with it,” he said, “somehow. But not Melanie. I won’t have you taking my daughter and making her just like you. You never told me the truth, when we decided to have a child. You never told me she’d be tainted. You never told me she’d be half…monster. Sullivan—he can help her, purify her. That was the deal, in exchange for feeding him information about everything you bastards said and did. I’m going to take her and start a new life, far away from here, where she can learn to be human. Sullivan can fix her.”

  A small voice spoke up from the darkness at his back.

  “Is that what you think, Dad?”

  Melanie came out from where she’d been hiding around the corner of the ranch office. Tears streaked her cheeks, leaving muddy black smears of mascara in their wake.

  “Do you think I need to be fixed?” she asked.

  He turned, shaking his head.

  “Oh no,” he said. “Oh no, no honey. No. You—you weren’t supposed to hear that, I mean, that’s not—”

  “That I’m tainted? That I’m a monster?”

  Ben dropped the book to the dirt and held out his arms to her, desperate. She stared at him in disbelief, not moving an inch.

  “Honey,” he said, “you don’t understand. I love you. I love you so much. You know that. We’re going to go away and start over, rebuild our family—”

  “My family is here.”

  Ben swallowed hard. “No. No. I’m your family. I’m the one who loves you. I sacrificed—I did all of this—for you. All for you, Melanie. I’m the one who loves you!”

  She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away. With her makeup smeared and her blue hair tangled, the teenager’s eyes still burned with ferocious dignity as she stared into her father’s face. She pushed her shoulders back and raised her chin.

  “No, Dad. You only love half of me. And half just isn’t enough.”

  Ben’s hands clenched and unclenched. His mouth moved soundlessly as his world came apart at the seams. He turned and pointed a trembling finger at Emma.

  “This is your fault! You did this. You turned her against me.”

  “Loath as I am to interrupt,” Sullivan said, leaning on his walking stick. “But I’m still failing to see the point of this little charade. What did you hope to accomplish?”

  “Funny story,” I told him. “It all started the night I figured out Prince Sitri’s game—or thought I did. He’d sent me to kill Father Alvarez, you know that much, but I realized Alvarez wasn’t the point. Sitri knew I’d never do it. He just wanted to see if I’d give up and walk away, or if I’d come at him from a different angle. Surprise him. Show some fighting spirit. So I went to have a little heart-to-heart with the prince. And we made a deal.”

  • • •

  I had stood before the Conduit, bathed in the flickering glow of a half dozen candles. It wasn’t the Conduit anymore, though. Past the desiccated skin, the golden chains and excrement-caked robes, it was Prince Sitri pulling the creature’s strings now. It was his voice oozing from its bloodied throat, sleepy and sly.

  “A deal?” he said. “Ooh, that sounds…dangerous. I do hope you’re not going to offer me your soul, Daniel Faust. While the literary allusion would be good for a chuckle, you are already damned. I don’t pay for what I can have for free.”

  “No, just a friendly wager. I bet that I can give you something nobody else can. Something you want. If I fail, that’s the last of me. I’ll walk away, and neither you nor Caitlin will ever see me again. Hell, you can even kill me if you want. But if I succeed? You let Caitlin live her own life. She sees who she wants, when she wants, however she wants. You give her choices back. Because she works too fucking hard for you to treat her like a prize in your stupid little game.”

  “Stupid?” Sitri said, his tone suddenly colder.

  “Yeah. Stupid. You want to get off on making me jump through hoops? Fine. You aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last. But dangling Caitlin in front of me like the prize in a Cracker-Jack box is just wrong. She’s loyal to you. She breaks her back for you every goddamn day. So you know what I want? I want you to start giving her the respect she fucking deserves.”

  “I’ve yanked out tongues,” Sitri said conversationally, “for less insolence.”

  “I’m sure you have. Doesn’t change the fact that what I said is true, and you know it.”

  The Conduit’s head bobbed slowly.

  “And what if,” Sitri said, “that given freedom, her choice is to reject you? To abandon you, and take another lover?”

  I shrugged.

  “Then that’s her choice. That’s the point. This isn’t for me. It’s for her.”

  “Well, then. You still have my attention. Tell me: what delightful little bauble will you offer me in exchange for this boon? What could you possibly have that a prince of hell, with legions at my command and golden wealth beyond the dreams of mortal kings, might desire?”

  “That’s easy,” I said. “I’ll give you the Ring of Solomon.”

  Forty-Two

  “The Ring of Solomon,” Sitri mused, “is the most potent weapon against my kind ever created. Its wielder can compel and command, bind and banish, almost effortlessly. An infernal army would fall to its knees before the human who masters it.”

  “Not to mention,” I said, “Lauren Carmichael planned to use it on you. That’s gotta sting a little.”

  “Do you understand the consequences of what you’re offering me? No one with demonic blood can use the ring—it’ll work no mischief in my realm—but what happens when we move to claim your little world? You’re sacrificing the greatest advantage your species has.”

  “I’m gambling that’s not happening anytime soon,” I said. “And in this world, the ring’s just as dangerous as it is helpful. Lauren proved that. In the wrong hands—”

  “What about the right ones?” Sitri asked, a tinge of eagerness in his voice. “Given the right hands, couldn’t a mortal rise to greatness? He would be a champion of good. A savior of humanity and a beacon of light in a dark age. You could be such a champion. Aren’t you tempted, just a bit?”

  I thought about that. I had thought about it most of the evening. I kept coming back to the same old conclusion.

  “Nah,” I said. “I’m not that guy.”

  Sitri chuckled. “No. You’ll betray your entire world, for the love of a woman.”

  “Would you?” said the voice at my back.

  I spun on my heel. Caitlin stood at the bottom of the steps. I hadn’t heard her come down.

  “You would do that for me?” she asked. There was something in her eyes I hadn’t seen in a while. It looked like hope.

  “In a heartbeat,” I told her.

  “We shall see,” Sitri said, “if you can put y
our mettle where your mouth is. Produce the ring, and I’ll make your little dreams come true, warlock.”

  “I need one thing,” I said. “Information. I’ve got a plan, but to make it work I need to get my hands on one of the damned. A human named Gilles de Rais.”

  The Conduit went silent. Caitlin edged up to stand beside me. Our fingers entwined.

  “Found him,” Sitri said as the Conduit’s body gave a tiny jerk, consciousness surging back in. “Could be trouble. De Rais belongs to a creature called Naavarasi. She’s a rakshasi—not a demon, but one of the elder races, her domain swallowed by hell’s expanding borders. A baron among the Night-Blooming Flowers, but as I understand it she bears the court little love, and little love is given to her in kind.”

  “Maybe I can find something to trade her,” I said.

  “Or perhaps you can do me a service,” Sitri countered. “We have a spy inside the court. He is on the verge of being discovered. Go to Naavarasi, and convince her that you and I are enemies. Offer to give her this spy’s name, in order to hurt me. Meanwhile, I’ll send the order for my agent to flee after leaving some false information behind. False documents pointing fingers in interesting directions and giving the Flowers something to fight each other over for years to come.”

  I nodded. “Brilliant. Naavarasi gets a feather in her cap, you turn a crisis into a victory, and I get leverage.”

  “We need to keep up a ruse,” Caitlin told me. “Until you’ve seized the ring, everyone needs to believe that we separated, or they’ll know something’s up. I can help you, but only from the shadows.”

  I squeezed her hand.

  “Then I’ll count the hours until the job’s done,” I said.

  • • •

  Sullivan clapped his hands together, rolling his eyes.

  “Brilliant,” he said sarcastically. “So you weren’t at the banquet to steal the book after all. You were trying to grab the ring off the table. That was your goal all along.”

  I nodded. “Like I said, it wasn’t about the book, and it was barely about you. You were just my in. My way to get to the table and up close and personal with Lauren Carmichael.”

  “And you failed. Abysmally.”

  “How do you figure that?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

  “Ben,” Sullivan said. “It’s time.”

  Ben couldn’t take his eyes off Melanie. He pleaded with her softly, choking back tears. She didn’t even look at him.

  “Ben!” Sullivan snapped. “Come here. Now is the time to be strong, to be pure. This is your hour of greatness!”

  Ben slunk away from us, head hung like a whipped dog, to stand at Sullivan’s side. His expression changed when Sullivan took Ben’s right hand and slipped the Ring of Solomon onto his finger.

  “I know,” Sullivan said, “because I took it. It was the first thing my hand closed upon in the confusion. Your trick with the lights worked on my followers, Mr. Faust, but I can see in the dark quite clearly. I never took my eyes off it.”

  Ben clenched his fist, nodding to himself and staring at the gleaming ring. I could see the change in his face, the sudden rush of power as he realized what he’d been given.

  Sullivan smiled as he looked at Caitlin.

  “As I said, what a pleasure to avenge all the wrongs done to me. You saved me the trouble of hunting you down, my dear. Did you miss me?”

  “Like a case of the black plague,” Caitlin said. “And you’ve always been the hero of your own little sob story, Suulivarishisian. Nothing is ever your fault. You’re always the wronged one. The only thing I ever did to you, was refuse to be your victim anymore.”

  He waved an irritated hand in the air. “History will remember things differently. Especially when you go before Prince Sitri’s assembled council and confess how you and the prince colluded to steal my estate. Humiliating you both will be a delightful appetizer before I march my armies into hell and take my rightful throne. And you will confess. You’ll say anything I want you to say, once you’re under the ring’s power.”

  “Yes,” Ben ranted, almost hyperventilating as he stared at the ring. “Yes, I’m ready. I’m ready for this, just say the word. I’m ready for greatness.”

  Sullivan rubbed his chin as he contemplated Caitlin. “I think I’ll have you tear your lover apart while I watch. That seems appropriate. But first, we’ll have a proper reunion. Ben? Use the ring on Caitlin, please. Make her crawl over here and lick the dust from my boots.”

  Ben pointed his curled fist at Caitlin, brandishing the ring. “Kneel!” he roared in a voice that echoed off the desert flats.

  Emma and I watched with horror as Caitlin’s knees began to buckle. “Can’t…fight it,” she gasped, her voice strained.

  Then she grinned.

  She was the first to break out into laughter as she rose back to her feet. Emma followed suit. I leaned into Caitlin, snickering into her shoulder as I gave her a tight hug.

  “Holy shit,” I said. “One more second of that and I was gonna lose it. I could not keep a straight face.”

  “Sullivan,” Caitlin said, choking back a fit of giggles. “You truly are a pathetic creature. Truly.”

  Sullivan stared at the ring, dumbfounded. Ben just looked horrified.

  “Yeah,” I added. “And by the way, that’s not the Ring of Solomon. We stole it first.”

  “What?” Sullivan roared, “How? I told you, I never took my eyes off it! You couldn’t have swapped it for a fake, you never had the chance.”

  “Well, that brings us back to the story of the real plan. See, Ben, your job was to feed misinformation back to Sully here, and you did a bang-up job of it. You had no idea what was going on right under your nose. Literally.”

  • • •

  “According to these specs,” Pixie had said, her face bathed in the blue glow of her laptop screen, “the security firm installed a Contender model 800-L behind a hidden panel in Lauren’s study. That was just last year, so unless she suddenly got an urge to upgrade out of nowhere, that’s what we’re up against. It’s the only place in the house secure enough to store something that valuable.”

  “How tough is it?”

  She shrugged. “Do I look like a safecracker? You need an expert.”

  That was how we ended up in Nicky Agnelli’s office in the back room of the Gentlemen’s Bet, huddled around a sheaf of schematics on his desk. Nicky brought in a guy I’d worked with two or three times before, a willowy Southerner with a bleach-blond goatee. He called himself Coop. Wasn’t sure if it was his first or last name, didn’t care either.

  “If time’s tight,” Coop said, “fastest way in is a jam shot. That or use a thermal lance, but then you’re risking a fire. Can we punch out the walls around it and just take the whole safe?”

  I shook my head. “Out of the question. Whole house will be on you in five seconds. Besides, we can’t leave any sign that the safe’s been tampered with. At the end of the night, whoever ends up with the dummy ring—Lauren or Sullivan—has to believe they’ve got the real McCoy.”

  “The 800-L is an electronic keypad model,” Coop said. “A good one, not the crap you find in most hotel rooms. There are autodialers out there, gizmos that’ll run through possible combinations faster than you can blink and brute-force the password, but they’re specific to the safe model. I don’t have anything like that for the 800 line.”

  Pixie furrowed her brow. “What are they based on?”

  “Specific algorithms, and the makeup of the circuit board you’re trying to talk to,” Coop said. “That’s all proprietary stuff. You’d have to have an inside guy at Paragon, or get into their company servers somehow.”

  “Give me an autodialer for a safe like this one,” she said, “so I can see how they’re built. I’ll do the rest.”

  Coop and Nicky both looked at me. I nodded.

  “If she says she can do it,” I told them, “she can do it.”

  • • •

  “Remember
the caterers who were already on-site when you got there?” I asked Ben. “Pixie and Coop were on that truck. They slipped out of the kitchen and were already stealing the ring when you showed up.”

  “How?” Ben said. “How did you get people on both trucks?”

  Emma half smiled, but it didn’t hide the anger in her eyes. “Nicky Agnelli owns Saguaro Catering. That’s why Daniel picked them. The hijacking was another layer of the lie. Those people were Nicky’s men, and they knew we’d be there. It was all a show to make you believe you were in on the real plan.”

  “Didn’t it all go a little too smoothly?” I asked Ben. “In retrospect?”

  “But how did they get out?” Ben said. “We left with the rest of the caterers when the lights went out, and we never saw them.”

  “Remember the blueprints of the house?” I asked. “You pointed it out yourself. Lauren’s escape tunnel. The one that ran directly beneath the dining room.”

  “But the alarms were wired to the house’s generator! They couldn’t have gotten through there without…” He fell silent as he figured it out.

  Sullivan’s eyes narrowed. “The ploy with your little poker chip. It wasn’t your escape route. It was theirs.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “I stalled until Pixie called me. Three rings and a hang-up was the signal that they were waiting under the house, ready to go. My spell killed the power, and they slipped right out. They’d already taken the ring and replaced it. What Meadow Brand removed from that safe—and you stole from her—is a nice little reproduction. My buddy Winslow made it for us. Jewelry’s kind of his hobby. You know, Ben, I told you this was going to happen. You were warned.”

  He blinked at me, still clutching the worthless copy of the ring in his hand.

  “How? When?”

  I smiled and spread my hands.

  “Think back to the meeting. What did I say? We were going to do a magic trick. When you’re looking at my left hand, all the action’s happening in my right. The audience always looks where the magician wants them to look. And if they think they’re the ones in control? That just proves they’ve already been fooled.”