The Fire God

Chapter Four

Mu was waiting for me outside the hospital and Vadya hung several paces back. The street was damp from melted snow and the moonlight reflected on the surface.

Mu called, "How much you want to bet that the camp has been decimated? I'll bet my tent is completed gone."

"You can have my salve, Mu."

"I thought I was brilliant, hiding the bottle of oil, treating it like trash, throwing it in the can. But I'll bet everything's gone."

I took Mu by the head, kissed her hair. She had a few grays, but her hair was mostly black, even as advanced in life as she was.

Mu was wrong. The camp was trampled, but the news crew had forced the band of immortals into hiding. Mu's tent was ransacked, but the dragon's milk beer bottle that had been "discarded" and hidden under bits of trash was intact.

"I'd dance, but my hip," she muttered, pulling up her skirt and slathering oil on her body.

I hiked to my tent. Untouched. I passed Mu the canister of salve instantly.

She took the wraps off my chest, slathered the salve over it. She offered me the oil, but I refused. It was hers. She slipped the canister into her own pocket. Well, her moral compass had always pointed west.

She presented Fumi's head.

"I've decided that I'm going to have my network of men get you papers," Mu announced. "You'll be a British professor, a museum curator, and you're taking this head back to Africa to be laid to rest in his village. The museum authorities have decided to yield to the endless public outcry. This prince needs to be returned to his people. You know how these Canadians are. All humanity and peace on earth and that nonsense."

I laughed. Fumi would have too. He had been a village chief once. I had been the eldest son of my tribe's chief, though it didn't matter to me. I never cared. Even after my family was slaughtered and my cousins, brothers and I were carted away.

"You'll just have to make the head look like a museum find, mummified, dried out."

"I'm too tired for this, old woman," slapping my hand on Fumi's head, his fuzzy curls. Drying out materials, that took skill. It had taken me centuries to master it. I had learned to explode hearts and brains without burn marks faster than desiccating items. The heat had to be controlled. It also required that I keep the air dry, which wasn't natural to my abilities.

"There," presenting Mu the head. "Satisfactory?"

"Yes," she said, taking the skull. "I'll wrap it up and we'll get the papers ready. You'll stay here?"

"Of course."

I snuck to the village for news from time to time. I pressed the unicorn horn to the mirror to check on Aditi. But chiefly I remained alone in my tent. I didn't much care for a locatable refuge. I didn't need sleep, but if I had, I would have disappeared into the trees.

Mu returned with the head packaged up. A stack of documents were on top. She had a suit hanging for me and gave me a pair of glasses to make me look more like a professional. I chucked those at her.

"How's your wounds?"

"The surface is healed, but the internal is still working its way back into place."

She muttered, "At least you're not gushing that dark burgundy ooze everywhere anymore. Disgusting mess."

I dressed, then turned, took the passport, ticket information, documents and boxed up head. She saw me to the airport. A private plane. Good. It would be an excruciating flight. I'd be trapped for a dozen hours or more, very little mobility. But Mu was getting me as close to Fumi's village as she dared.