"I was good enough to carry him, wasn't I?" Mia almost spat at him. "Good enough to send the other one into the swamp to eat frogs, her all the time thinking they were caviar...I was good enough forthat, wasn't I?"
Sayre blinked, clearly startled by so brisk a response.
Mia softened again. "Sai, think of all I gave up!"
"Pish, you hadnothing! " Sayre replied. "What were you but a meaningless spirit whose existence revolved around no more than f**king the occasional saddletramp? Slut of the winds, isn't that what Roland calls your kind?"
"Then think of the other one," Mia said. "She who calls herself Susannah. I have stolen all her life and purpose for my chap, and at your bidding."
Sayre made a dismissive gesture. "Your mouth does you no credit, Mia. Therefore close it."
He nodded to his left. A low man with a wide, bulldoggy face and a luxuriant head of curly gray hair came forward. The red hole in his brow had an oddly slanted Chinese look. Walking behind him was another of the bird-things, this one with a fierce, dark brown hawk's head protruding from the round neck of a tee-shirt with DUKE BLUE DEVILS printed on it. They took hold of her. The bird-thing's grip was repulsive - scaly and alien.
"You have been an excellent custodian," Sayre said, "on that much we can surely agree. But we must also remember that it was Roland of Gilead's jilly who actually bred the child, mustn't we?"
"That's a lie!"she screamed."Oh, that is a filthy...LIE!"
He went on as if he'd not heard her. "And different jobs require different skills. Different strokes for different folks, as they say."
"PLEASE!"Mia shrieked.
The hawkman put its taloned hands to the sides of its head and then rocked from side to side, as if deafened. This witty pantomime drew laughter and even a few cheers.
Susannah dimly felt warmth gush down her legs - Mia'slegs - and saw her jeans darken at the crotch and thighs. Her water had finally broken.
"Let'sgo-ooo-ooo ...and have aBABY! " Sayre proclaimed in game-show-host tones of excitement. There were too many teeth in that smile, a double row both top and bottom.
"After that, we'll see. I promise you that your request will be taken under consideration. In the meantime...Hile, Mia! Hile, Mother!"
"Hile, Mia! Hile, Mother!"the rest cried, and Mia suddenly found herself borne toward the back of the room, the bulldog-faced low man gripping her left arm and the hawkman gripping her right. Hawkman made a faint and unpleasant buzzing sound in his throat each time he exhaled. Her feet barely touched the rug as she was carried toward the bird-thing with the yellow feathers; Canaryman, she thought him.
Sayre brought her to a stop with a single hand-gesture and spoke to Canaryman, pointing toward the Dixie Pig's street door as he did. Mia heard Roland's name, and also Jake's. The Canaryman nodded. Sayre pointed emphatically at the door again and shook his head.Nothing gets in, that headshake said.Nothing!
The Canaryman nodded again and then spoke in buzzing chirps that made Mia feel like screaming. She looked away, and her gaze happened on the mural of the knights and their ladies. They were at a table she recognized - it was the one in the banqueting hall of Castle Discordia. Arthur Eld sat at the head with his crown on his brow and his lady-wife at his right hand. And his eyes were a blue she knew from her dreams.
Ka might have chosen that particular moment to puff some errant draft across the dining room of the Dixie Pig and twitch aside the tapestry. It was only for a second or two, but long enough for Mia to see there was another dining room - aprivate dining room - behind it.
Sitting at a long wooden table beneath a blazing crystal chandelier were perhaps a dozen men and women, their appledoll faces twisted and shrunken with age and evil. Their lips had burst back from great croggled bouquets of teeth; the days when any of these monstrosities could close their mouths were long gone. Their eyes were black and oozing some sort of noisome tarry stuff from the corners. Their skin was yellow, scaled with teeth, and covered with patches of diseased-looking fur.
What are they?Mia screamed.What in the name of the gods are they?
Mutants,Susannah said.Or perhaps the word is hybrids. And it doesn't matter, Mia. You saw what matters, didn't you?