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though, favoring the tropical rain forests, especially in Colombia, which was where
Mutex had supposedly spent some time studying.
A subheading labeled “Beneficial Uses” caught Marla’s eye. Apart from helping native
hunters poison their prey—the tribespeople heated the frogs over fires, then wiped their
darts on the frogs’ sweating backs—Mr. Terrible had other useful qualities. Doctors
were working with extracts of their poison, batrachotoxin, to make painkillers that were
potentially ten times as effective as morphine, without the nasty, physically addictive
side effects. Marla wondered if Mutex had used some sympathetic magic to tap into that
quality, too. If so, he could be formidable in battle. People who didn’t feel pain were
difficult to fight.
She turned the page. And there it was: “Predators.”
Mr. Terrible only had one natural predator. Leimadopis epinephelus. It was a snake,
naturally immune to the frog’s poison, and it chowed down on Mr. Terrible and all his
brethren at will.
B and Ray were chatting, and Marla interrupted Ray in mid-sentence. “I want to buy a
snake.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ray said. “What did you have in mind?”
“I can’t pronounce it,” she said. “One of these.” She tapped the name.
Ray frowned. “I think you’re out of luck. Even if I could get you one—which I can’t—
it’d be an illegal exotic pet. Not unlike that frog you’ve got in your plastic bag there, but
since it’s dead, that’s probably less of a problem.”
“Money isn’t an issue,” Marla said. “Neither is legality. Time, however, is. I need one
of these snakes, and I need it before morning.”
Ray looked at B for help, and B cleared his throat. “I don’t think he’s holding out on
you, Marla. They don’t have that snake here, and it’s not something he can get.”
“Truth,” Ray said. “There might be one of these snakes in captivity somewhere in the
state, but who knows? It’s a relatively rare snake from the rain forest. I don’t even know
what they look like, and I know more about snakes than the average guy.”
“I need one,” Marla said. “You must have some idea where I can find one.”
Ray lifted his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Sorry. I’m sure there are dedicated
reptile smugglers out there somewhere, but I don’t know them. And even if I did, I
doubt old Leimadopis would be a hot seller.”
Marla swore, then ripped the relevant pages out of the book. Ray started to protest, and
Rondeau was there as if by magic, handing him a suspiciously large bill. Ray’s half
scowl deepened, but he put the money in his shirt pocket. “Want me to try to reach
Langford?” Rondeau said. “He’s got sources. Maybe he could, I don’t know, ship us a
snake by special courier.”