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ut the awareness was distant, as the cloak sealed her off from the pain of the poison
leaving her body. And this was from the barest touch of only a few of the frogs, just
glancing contact as she brushed them aside. If Mutex had lured her farther onto the
platform, into the midst of the frogs, the poison would surely have overwhelmed even
her cloak’s ability to cope with the pain and damage. As it was, she wondered if she
would survive this much of the poison, but even that concern had a detached quality, as
the alien intelligence maintained control, trying to hold on through the pain.
Finally she rolled over, and vomited weakly, and then B and Rondeau were helping her
to her feet. Normally after the cloak healed her, Marla felt no ill effects at all, only a
ferocious hunger, and while she was hungry now, she also ached, deep in her muscles.
She thought Bethany had a good idea when it came to eating people, and she considered
the possibility of snapping B’s neck and eating his flesh raw, perhaps taking in some of
his seer’s power in the process. She reached for B’s throat to choke him and throttle him
down, but her muscles trembled, and the best she could manage was a weak clutching at
his shoulders.
Then Marla shuddered and pushed at the alien intelligence, and though it resisted her
ferociously, it couldn’t hold on against her steady mental pressure, and Marla was
herself again, although weak and famished.
The frogs hadn’t killed her, but it had been a near thing—which was fortunate, in a way,
since if she’d been less damaged the cloak’s alien intelligence would have succeeded in
killing B and eating a fair bit of him before Marla could reassert control.
She couldn’t face Mutex’s frogs again, not without some protection—there was no
reason to think she’d be this lucky twice. She’d known that before, recognized the threat
the frogs posed, but now that their poison had scalded her, she understood it more
deeply, and knew they weren’t a problem she could simply improvise around.
Bethany moaned and opened her eyes. “What?” she said, blearily.
Marla shook off Rondeau and B, who were still holding her arms, as if afraid she would
fall down again. Marla drew her dagger and knelt, shakily, beside Bethany. She felt
around in her own mind as if probing at a loose tooth with her tongue, feeling for some
shred of the alien intelligence, but it was gone—she was choosing to do this on her own,
with her humanity intact, for what that was worth. Marla tried to think of something to
say. It took a moment, during which time Bethany’s eyes struggled to focus. “I enjoyed
talking with you,” Marla said finally. “Under other circumstances, I think we might
have been friends. I understand why you did what you did. I understand the lure of
power. But you would have sacrificed your city, would have let Mutex wreck
everything and kill everyone in this place you’re supposed to protect, and though I don’t
give a shit what happens to San Francisco, you should. It’s your city. I could forgive
you for trying to kill me. I’ve forgiven people for worse. But you didn’t just betray me,
you betrayed your city, and that can never be forgiven.”
“Marla…” Bethany said, comprehension returning to her face. It was hard to tell if
she’d understood the things Marla just said, but it didn’t matter, not really. In a moment,
Bethany would never understand anything else again.