“I think we know why you did it now,” Papa said with disgust. He tossed a packet to Luco.
Luco pounced on it, ripping it open, pouring the powder out into his palm, and licking it up.
Matt watched, shaking his head, face somber. Once, very long ago, Luco had been his friend. Then he had started listening to the older boys, and had started smoking marijuana. Not too long after that, he had started beating up Matt. His heart twisted with sorrow for the nice kid Luco had once been, the good man he might have grown up to be.
“Perhaps you can heal him here, Matthew,” Papa said softly, “but not back there, and you cannot heal our old universe. Magic does not work, there.”
Matt frowned. “You mean that’s what Luco’s trying to get?”
Luco cursed violently.
Papa turned, raising his eyebrows. “Yes?”
“It didn’t come on, you old swindler! It didn’t do anything!”
“No, nothing,” Papa agreed. “Magic works in this universe, Luco. I took the kick out of that packet. If you want it back, you’ll tell me who brought you here, and how.”
“You bastard!” Luco was trembling now. His eyes were bloodshot. “I’m getting strung out! You said you’d give it back to me… give!”
“Ah, but I’m a storekeeper now.” Papa sat on his heels, just beyond Luco’s reach. “I don’t give anything away.”
Luco bellowed and sprang at him.
Papa leaped to his feet and stepped aside. Luco went sprawling in the dirt and began sobbing again.
“No, you cannot take it from me,” Papa said. “You want something, you pay for it.”
Luco reached for his pocket.
“Not money, no,” Papa said. “Information.”
“All right, all right, anything! Just give me the packet!”
“First the answers. Question One: Where did this new drug come from?”
“From Groldor! Word is he moved in with a gang of his own, a bunch of cavemen with AK-forty-sevens, and put the drug out on the streets!”
“Groldor?” Papa frowned. “I thought the drug boss in our town was Cracker. Didn’t he object?”
“Sure, man! This new stuff, Magic, makes you forget about crack and even heroin!”
“So it satisfies the old cravings and plants a new one,” Papa said. “What did Cracker do?”
“Hit Groldor with everything he had. Word is it was short and hard… by the time the cops got there, only two bodies were left, and they were each holding the gun that shot the other guy. Groldor’s smart and clean.” He shivered, only partly from withdrawal.
“Yes, I remember reading about the ‘gangland duel’ in the newspaper,” Papa said. “So he took the territory, and the gangs decided not to fight him.”
“Why should they, when he cut them in?” Luco asked. “Gave each gang its own stash to sell… but he drew the lines, told ‘em where their selling territory ended and the next gang’s began. The Tics got greedy and jumped the Sangers, but Groldor’s muscles showed up and beat them both into the ground.”
He shivered again. “Bastard knew when and where the Tics were going to jump, even though the Sangers didn’t!”
“Almost as though he could read their minds,” Matt said grimly.
“So nobody tried to poach anybody else’s customers after that?” Papa asked.
“Course not, man! Two Tics died, and died hard!”
“But all the gangs did good business.”
“Fantastic, man! Groldor made ‘em keep the price down, said it’d sell more, and it did! Addict on one dose, just like crack. You feel great for an hour, okay for a day, but when you wake up, you gotta have more!”
“So you’re in good shape long enough to steal enough to pay for tomorrow’s dose,” Papa interpreted. “I
haven’t heard of the police arresting anybody, though, Luco. Why is that?”
Luco laughed. “Stuff’s not on the banned list, man! Nowhere near! I don’t know what it is, but word has it the cop labs can’t find anything but salt! Cops can’t touch ‘em! Can’t touch Groldor, can’t touch his muscles, can’t touch the gangs, can’t touch the buyers!” Luco gave them a shaky grin. “This Groldor is one smart dude.”
Matt shuddered at the hero worship in his voice.
“Only salt, but it takes you to Heaven and dumps you into Hell.” Papa looked up at his son.
Matt nodded grimly. “This Magic is magic, all right, or made by it.”
“Yes, or my spell would not have rendered it useless,” Papa said. “Does that not also mean it was made in Merovence?”
“Made in Merovence, and Nirobus found some way for this Groldor to take it to our universe and keep the magic working.” Matt’s eyes widened. “So the link wasn’t just between universes… it was between me and my old neighborhood! That’s why it was so easy for me to get home! Sorry, Papa… it looks as though I’ve unleashed this monstrosity on all of you!”
“Not you,” Papa snapped, “but someone who exploited you.”
Luco grinned. “Not hard.”
Papa turned back, and for a moment, the look he gave Luco was pure poison. He had to look away for a moment to recover his composure. “If it was made in Merovence, and Nirobus is keeping a channel open, our magic should be able to affect it even in New Jersey.”
Hatred still shone in Luco’s eyes, but the craving was too strong. “All right! The old dude blindfolded me and started me walking. I got dizzy and almost fell down, but he held me up and kept going. When he took the blindfold off, I was up in those hills, and he was pointing at you and handing me the rifle!”
“What old dude is this?” Papa asked, voice soothing.
“The one who dishes out the dope to Groldor! The one with the two-thousand-dollar suits and the five-hundred-dollar hats!”
“What kind of beard?” Matt asked.
“Real neat! No hair on his cheeks, just mustache and jaw! Why the hell do you want to know that?”
“Does he have a name?” Papa asked.
“Nirobus!” the kid snapped.
Matt stood still, feeling a shock wave pass over him. It was one thing to guess correctly but quite another to have that guess confirmed.
“Why, Luco?” Papa asked, very softly indeed. “I was always good to you. Matthew never hurt you, though Heaven knows he had reason. Why did you scare away my customers? Why did you try to kill us?”
“Nobody puts me down on my own block!” Luco snapped.
“Envy and revenge, then. That’s not enough. Why else?”
“Why? Why do you think? ‘Cause this Nirobus guy told us he’d give us a lot of dope if we did it!”
Papa nodded. “And he gave you a good stiff dose before he sent you here, yes?”
“Not a lot, no! Just enough to make the shakes quit! He told me he’d kill me if I took any more before I killed you!”
“Lakshmi was right, then,” Papa sighed. “You are of the hashishim.”
“What you talkin’ about, man?” Luco shouted, on the verge of panic. “I did it, I told you what you wanted! Gimme the Magic!”
“Yes, all right.” Papa sketched a design in the air and chanted in French. Luco stiffened, eyes widening… but the pupils shrank in those eyes, shrank to pinpoints. Then the eyelids closed, and Luco went limp, trembling, but sighing in bliss.
Matt turned away, revolted. Papa joined him. “He is thin, Matthew, and his face is so painfully hollow!”
Matt nodded. “The drug is letting Nirobus drain his life energy any time he wants… slowly and steadily.”
He shook his head, tasting bile. “Sometimes I hate being right.”
“It is even as you said,” Papa sighed. “The new drug showed up in the neighborhood, and suddenly the gangs were no longer fighting each other… they were terrorizing the neighbors instead, feeding on their fear and anger, so that Nirobus could feed on it through them.”