"It's not as bad as it looks," Cirocco said. "I'm going to hang around here for a while and hope it shows up. But if we don't have it in an hour, I'll increase our speed and we'll start criss-crossing. We'll cover just about all the airspace."
"What if he's headed back toward Metis?"
"It's unlikely. But if we don't get results in four or five hours, I'll send Conal back in that direction."
"And the spoke?" Chris asked.
"That would be such a logistical nightmare I'm ruling it out."
Robin looked out at vast expanses of forest far below them.
"What if it just ... settles down there in the bush?"
"Robin, if it does that, there's not much we can do."
She wished she hadn't asked.
"But," Cirocco went on, "it isn't going to do that."
Robin thought about asking Cirocco how she could be so sure, and found she didn't have the nerve to. She wanted the Wizard to be sure. Having somebody around who seemed to know what she was doing helped a little.
"Hand me my pack, Chris. It's time for the nasty part."
The pack had the unmistakable stamp of Titanide manufacture, and looked like an old friend. Robin watched as Cirocco set it on the transparent floor between her feet, opened it, and pulled out a small glass jar with a metal lid. Something white and slimy was curled up in the bottom. It lifted its head and blinked.
"What in the nine billion perversions of Christendom is that?" Robin asked.
Cirocco looked at her apologetically.
"It's what I didn't want to tell you about at the fountain. Things have gone a little far for us to keep secrets, though. It's a piece of the mind of Gaea. It's something Rocky took out of my head about five years ago. In a word, it's my own personal Demon."
Robin looked at it. The thing was uncoiling itself.
It was like a snake with two legs. When it stood up it balanced on those legs with its tail providing the third point of support. The legs were actually more like arms, with clawed hands. Its neck was an inch long, and its tail about three inches, with a stubby tip. There were two round, lizard-like eyes, and a surprisingly expressive mouth.
Robin leaned over and stared at it. The thing seemed to be shouting. She could almost distinguish words. Could it possibly speak English?
"Does it have a name?"
Cirocco cleared her throat, and Robin looked at her.
"Actually," she said, with a twitch of her lips, "if you look closely, you'll see it's a male."
Robin looked again. Great Mother save us, it was male.
"He claims not to have a name," Cirocco said. "When I want to call him anything but 'you lousy slimebag' I call him Snitch." Cirocco vigorously rubbed her upper lip with one finger, cleared her throat, and in general exhibited all the signs of nervousness Robin would have thought foreign to her nature. You learn something new every day, Robin thought.
"See," Cirocco went on, "... uh, from the position he was in when Rocky found him, uh ... you might say he was sort of, well, fucking with my mind for about ninety years."
There could have been no possible reason for Gaea to make this thing male, since it had been meant to live out its days in Cirocco's head. Thus, its sex was one of Gaea's twisted jokes, and a special and ugly humiliation for Cirocco should it ever be found.
Cirocco twisted the lid off the jar and set it down on the flat surface just above the computer screen-what she had called the dashboard. Snitch jumped up and perched on the rim of the jar, looked around blearily, and yawned. He used one claw to scratch like a dog, then settled down like a tiny vulture with his head almost concealed by his shoulders.
"I could sure use a drink," he said. Robin remembered the voice.
"I'm talking to you, cuntface," he said.
Cirocco reached out and flicked a finger. The demon thumped hard against the windscreen and fell to the dashboard, howling. Cirocco reached out and mashed his head under her thumb. Robin heard crunching noises. Great Mother, she thought. She's killed it.
"Sorry," Cirocco said. "It's the only way to reach him."
"You're apologizing to me?" Robin squeaked. "Skin it alive and feed it to the worms. I was just surprised you kept him five years and killed him now."
"He's all right. I don't even know if he's killable." She removed her thumb, and Snitch rolled back onto his feet. His head was malformed and blood dripped from one eye. As Robin watched, the head returned to its former shape, like some weird plastic.
"Who do I have to blow to get a drink in this stinking place?" He hopped up and perched on the edge of the jar again.
Cirocco again reached into her pack and brought out a metal flask in a leather container. She took the top off and detached an eyedropper from the kit, inserted it in the neck, and drew out some clear fluid. Snitch was hopping from foot to foot in his eagerness, his head thrown back and his mouth open. Cirocco held the eyedropper over his mouth and let one fat drop fall into his mouth. He swallowed hugely, then opened his mouth again.
"That's it for now," Cirocco said. "If you're good, you can have more."
"What is that?" Robin asked. Snitch rolled his eyes toward her.
"It's grain alcohol. Snitch likes his liquor straight." She sighed. "He's an alcoholic, Robin. It's about all he consumes, along with a little blood once a day."
Snitch jerked his head toward Robin.
"Who's the bimbo?"
Cirocco flicked his face again, and he howled, then quickly shut up. "Maybe ... " Robin began, then thought better of it.
"Go ahead," Cirocco said.
"Uh ... maybe he was what was causing your... problem."
"There's no need to walk around it, Robin. Maybe it was him making me into a lush, right?" She sighed, and shook her head. "I tried my best to think that for a long time. But I knew I was just wishing my own weakness off on something else. If anything, I'm the cause of his problem. He sat there on top of an alcoholic brain for so long he got addicted." She straightened her shoulders and then leaned forward a little, staring at the demon.
"Now, Snitch," she said. "We're going to play a game."
"I hate games."
"You'll like this one. Gaea has done a terrible thing."
He cackled. "I knew something good was about to happen."
"But you'd never think of warning me, right? Well, maybe next time you will. What happened, you venomous pestilential cancre, is that somebody has kidnapped a child. Gaea is behind it, as surely as flies breed in shit, and you're going to tell me where the child is."
"Why don't you bite my ass?"
Robin was startled when Chris reached between them and grabbed the ugly little thing in a big fist. Only its head was visible, and its eyes rolled wildly.
"I want him, Captain," Chris said. His voice was low. "I've been thinking about him for the last hour, and maybe I've come up with some things you haven't thought of yet."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" the Snitch shrieked. "You know I do better work if you don't hurt me, you know that, you know that!"
"Hold on, Chris," Cirocco said. The tiny eyes moved from Chris to Cirocco and back again. He gulped, and then spoke in a wheedling tone.
"What do I care what Gaea's cooked up?" he said. "For a couple of drinks, I might be able to help you."
"Four drops is what I'm offering."
"Now be fair," he whined. "And be reasonable. You can't deny that I do my best work when I've had a few under my belt."