«We're away from 'em,» she said, «but now we don't dare stop. They'll remember this wagon.»
«And I'll bet one of them recognized you, and probably me too,» Rivas told her, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. «I think their leader was Sister Sue.»
«Oh. Yes.» She grabbed the bunk to brace herself, and a pan fell in the kitchen, as Urania took a fast turn. «Are you sure? I didn't look at any of them closely.»
«I'm afraid I'm sure.»
«Huh. Well, I hope we all—including the horses—like donuts, because I think we're going to have to just make one long burn straight to Ellay. Objections?»
He spread his hands. «It's your show.» The wagon took another sharp turn and this time there were angry yells from outside as well as pans falling in the kitchen, and Barbara started forward but stopped when Rivas said, «Oh, one thing . . .»
«What's that?»
«Did you get my beer?»
She frowned, then reached into the big pocket of her skirt. «Well, yes,» she said, producing a bottle. «Can you drink it?»
«I think with it balanced on my chest I could.»
«All right.» She uncorked it and set it on his chest and braced his hands around it. «You okay?»
«Yeah,» said Rivas. «Thanks.» He tilted the bottle to his mouth, and got a good sip in spite of the wagon's rocking.
She smiled. «Good. You really did look terrible when I got you out of there. The doctor who put your head back together knew you, by the way. He said, 'Rivas is rapidly using himself up.' I told him there was lots more to you than met the eye.» She patted his bony shoulder and went forward to help Urania with the driving.
Rivas spent most of that day eating and drowsing, and when it became imperative that he either call for a bedpan or visit the wagon's bathroom—a tiny closet between the head of the bunk and the back kitchen wall—he managed to stand up and make the trip himself, though when he reeled back to the bunk he collapsed limply into it, nauseous, cold, sweating, and almost fainting from exhaustion. He slept several hours after that, and when he woke up Barbara had halted the wagon for the night in what she assured him was a well-concealed spot. The three fugitives made the last of the soup serve as dinner, though dessert was lavish, and then, over Rivas's weak protests, the two women stretched out on the floor to go to sleep.
Rivas slept too, but fitfully, and a tiny clink in the middle of the night brought him instantly awake.
The wall across from his bunk could be unlatched and folded down on hinges to provide a window and flat counter for selling donuts, and by the faint moonlight filtering in through the cracks he could see someone holding the tequila bottle. She turned half toward his bunk as she held the bottle up to peer into it, and he saw that it was Urania. Even as he opened his mouth to tell her to put it back, she licked the glass, sliding her tongue up toward the cork.
«Uri!» Rivas croaked in alarm, «put that down, you—»
When he spoke she jumped, then with feverish haste clamped her teeth over the whole neck of the bottle.
Rivas flung himself out of the bunk and managed to collide with her and knock her against the hinged wall, but a moment later he had tumbled helplessly to the floor, blinking his eyes and breathing deeply to fight off unconsciousness.
Barbara was on her feet and looking around jerkily, aware that there was an emergency but not what it was; she seemed to think someone was trying to break in, and Rivas didn't have enough strength in his lungs and jaws to speak.
The cork came out of the bottle with a pop, and then Barbara knew what was happening, and she lunged at Urania. Her shoulder thudded into Urania's stomach and they both crashed into the hinged wall, which came unlatched and fell open with a series of loud wood-on-wood whacks and a sudden glare of moonlight. Both women had fallen and as they gasped and struggled on the floor, the tequila bottle rolled past Rivas's face. There was still some tequila sloshing around in it, but no crystal.
Rivas rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow to see what was going on. Barbara was kneeling on Urania's back and strangling her; Uri was thrashing furiously, but one of her arms was pinned under her and she could only claw ineffectively at Barbara's wrists with the other. Rivas might have interfered, at least to stop Barbara from being quite so rough, if he hadn't seen Uri's eyes blazing at him out of her darkening face, for in that instant he was sure that it was Jaybush glaring through her eyes at him.
»Spit —it —out —or —die —Uri ,» grated Barbara.
For another three seconds it looked as though Uri had decided to die, but then her mouth opened and the crystal was spat out; Barbara rolled off her and Uri went limp, panting rapidly in harsh whistling gasps.
Rivas picked up the crystal. You win, it said in his mind. You're the boss. I'll work for you. Swallow me.
Barbara was helping him up. He had to keep blinking, for blood was running down his forehead from his reopened wound.
«That would have,» said Barbara tightly as she rolled him back up onto the bunk, but she began coughing before she could finish the sentence, and had to sit down on the foot of the bunk.
«What?» The monotonous voice in Rivas's head made him speak too loudly. Uri kept on wheezing.
«If she'd swallowed it,» said Barbara. «That would have harmed it, harmed him?»
Rivas looked at her with something close to despair, then closed his eyes. The pillow was wet with blood against his cheek. «I can't do this . . . by myself,» he said. «You've got to help. Do you want him to come back? Do you want to take the sacrament again?»
» . . . No,» Barbara said slowly. «No, I don't want him . . . back again, but I somehow don't want him dead either.» She stood up and went to the kitchen and came back with a lit lamp, which she put down on the floor in order to step over Urania. She unfolded the counter wall, lifted it back into place and latched it shut. Urania, incredibly, was snoring, evidently fast asleep.
«Do you want him dead?» Barbara asked when she sat down again on the bunk.
«Yes,» said Rivas.
Barbara smiled at him. «Really? There isn't any little bit of you that would like to . . . merge with the Lord, stop being you?»
Swallow me. You win. You're the boss. Rivas reached out and put the crystal down on the torn blanket between them, and it was a relief for him to stop hearing the voice. «Okay, maybe there is. And when I took a huge dose of Blood recently, there was a part of me that wanted to just relax and go down. But have you seen any real Blood freaks? Well, you've seen real far-gones.»
«Sure, but their outward form, we're told, isn't the whole story. If I take a boat to get somewhere, and then later you find the boat all rotted and decrepit on some shore, you can't tell anything about where I've gone or how I am.»
She touched the crystal, and her eyes widened in shock. After a few seconds she took her finger away. «What would have happened if Uri had swallowed it?»
«She would have become Jaybush.»
«He'd have been with us again?»
Rivas nodded unhappily. It was very late, and he was exhausted and scared and his head hurt.
«Swallow it,» said Barbara suddenly. «Quick, without thinking about it. You know you want to.»
«No,» snapped Rivas, «I want—» He paused, thinking about what he'd started to say, and then he said it quietly, with a smile. «I want you to.»