A City Dreaming Read Online Free Page A

train around here?”
    â€œIf ye think,” the captain began, swelling up like a snake bite, “you can stroll into the nest of the Pirates of Brown Water and stroll right out again, then you’re madder than a drink-crazed Scotsman!” There was much affirmative hooting and hollering from the assembled crowd. “Mayhap there’s someone up above who’d pay to have you ransomed? Or should we just make you a cabin boy? You can fetch me grog when you aren’t taking your time in the barrel!” More laughter followed, as well as the firing of muskets.
    â€œSo no 3 train?” M said, taking a seat on one of the nearby crates. “Fair enough. She probably won’t be very long.”
    Rum scratched at his neck fat. The embers on the captain’s beard burned down a tick. Water lapped against the beach. The one-eyed parrot began the first line of “Man From Nantucket,” but there was a thud and a squawk and it went quiet.
    â€œWhat do you mean,” the captain asked finally, giving voice to the mob’s nerves, “she probably won’t be very long?”
    â€œAt some point Boy’s going to work whatever party drug she’s on out of her system, and then she’s gonna wake up with a hangover and a keen instinct for mass murder. You ever see someone pick their teeth with a spinal cord? It’s . . .”M struggled to find the words, then gave up. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
    â€œPig’s guts!” the captain remarked after an awkward silence. The crowd mimicked his merry disregard. “You’ll need more than a bluff and a prayer if you hope to win free of the Pirates of Brown Water!”
    â€œI don’t pray that much,” M admitted. “Honestly, when I got her text, I figured you guys were some sort of interspatial privateers, freebooters floating through space-time, not a bunch of extras from a Jerry Bruckheimer movie. Boy will be cleaning viscera from beneath her fingernails before dawn, and I’ll be wondering how to explain to my cleaner why there’s brain on my sweater. Again.” M shook his head back and forth unhappily. “I knew I should have ignored that text.”
    He got another one then.
Madison:
Maybe they fell into your pocket somehow?
M:
I told you I didn’t steal them.
Madison:
I didn’t say you stole them. I’m just wondering if maybe you accidentally scooped them into your pockets on your way out.
M:
That’s a clear euphemism for theft.
    â€œWho is your friend, exactly?” Lash asked.
    Actually Lash had asked several times, but M had been busy with his phone and also wanted to build some anticipation. “Are you telling me you kidnapped the most dangerous human being within six or seven realities, and you don’t even have any idea who she is? Boy the Infernal? Astarte’s nemesis? The Doom of Atlantis? I suppose I can’t entirely blame you. People who meet her have an unfortunate habit of not living all that long afterward. Actually . . .” M checked the time on his phone. Below his wrist was a tattoo of a choirboy kneeling. “You guys made it about what, three hours? That’s not bad. You’re beating par.”
    â€œWe caught her stumbling near a porthole,” said a scruffy man with an E-Street Band headscarf. “She said rude things about my parentage!”
    â€œThat sounds like Boy, all right. Sharp tongue, but you can get away with it if you’vegot ichor in your veins, instead of blood. Can any of you claim divine heritage? No? Likely go quick then. Say, you didn’t leave anyone to guard her, did you?”
    The captain looked at Lash. “Just Tibault and Callahan.”
    â€œWell, I hope no one liked Tibault or Callahan that much.” M’s phone rang, and he answered it casually. “Hello? Yeah. Yeah? Great. The nightstand? Yeah. All right then, be well.” He put the