American Gods

“Fuck you,” said Czernobog. “Fuck you and fuck your mother and fuck the fucking horse you fucking rode in on. You will not even die in battle. No warrior will taste your blood. No one alive will take your life. You will die a soft, poor death. You will die with a kiss on your lips and a lie in your heart.”

“Leave it, old man,” said Town.

“The blood-dimmed tide is loose,” said the fat kid. “I think that comes next.”

The wind howled.

“Okay,” said Loki. “He’s yours. We’re done. Take the old bastard away.”

He made a gesture with his fingers, and Town, Media, and the fat kid left the room. He smiled at Shadow. “Call no man happy, huh, kid?” he said. And then he, too, walked away.

“What happens now?” asked Shadow.

“Now we wrap him up,” said Anansi. “And we take him away from here.”

They wrapped the body in the motel sheets, wrapped it well in its impromptu shroud, so there was no body to be seen, and they could carry it. The two old men walked to each end of the body, but Shadow said, “Let me see something,” and he bent his knees and slipped his arms around the white-sheeted figure, pushed him up and over his shoulder. He straightened his knees, until he was standing, more or less easily. “Okay,” he said. “I’ve got him. Let’s put him into the back of the car.”

Czernobog looked as if he were about to argue, but he closed his mouth. He spat on his forefinger and thumb and began to snuff the candles between his fingertips. Shadow could hear them fizz as he walked from the darkening room.

Wednesday was heavy, but Shadow could cope, if he walked steadily. He had no choice. Wednesday’s words were in his head with every step he took along the corridor, and he could taste the sour-sweetness of mead in the back of his throat. You protect me. You transport me from place to place. You run errands. In an emergency, but only in an emergency, you hurt people who need to be hurt. In the unlikely event of my death, you will hold my vigil . . .

Mr. Nancy opened the motel lobby door for him, then hurried over and opened the back of the bus. The other four were already standing by their Humvee, watching them as if they could not wait to be off. Loki had put his driver’s cap back on. The cold wind tugged at Shadow as he walked, whipped at the sheets.

He placed Wednesday down as gently as he could in the back of the bus.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned. Town stood there with his hand out. He was holding something.

“Here,” said Mr. Town, “Mister World wanted you to have this.”

It was a glass eye. There was a hairline crack down the middle of it, and a tiny chip gone from the front.

“We found it in the Masonic Hall, when we were cleaning up. Keep it for luck. God knows you’ll need it.”

Shadow closed his hand around the eye. He wished he could come back with something smart and sharp, but Town was already back at the Humvee, and climbing up into the car; and Shadow still couldn’t think of anything clever to say.

They drove east. Dawn found them in Princeton, Missouri. Shadow had not slept yet.

Nancy said, “Anywhere you want us to drop you? If I were you, I’d rustle up some ID and head for Canada. Or Mexico.”

“I’m sticking with you guys,” said Shadow. “It’s what Wednesday would have wanted.”

“You aren’t working for him anymore. He’s dead. Once we drop his body off, you are free to go.”

“And do what?”

“Keep out of the way, while the war is on,” said Nancy. He flipped his turn signal, and took a left.

“Hide yourself, for a little time,” said Czernobog. “Then, when this is over, you will come back to me, and I will finish the whole thing.”

Shadow said, “Where are we taking the body?”

“Virginia. There’s a tree,” said Nancy.

“A world tree,” said Czernobog with gloomy satisfaction. “We had one in my part of the world. But ours grew under the world, not above it.”

“We put him at the foot of the tree,” said Nancy. “We leave him there. We let you go. We drive south. There’s a battle. Blood is shed. Many die. The world changes, a little.”

“You don’t want me at your battle? I’m pretty big. I’m good in a fight.”

Nancy turned his head to Shadow and smiled—the first real smile Shadow had seen on Mr. Nancy’s face since he had rescued Shadow from the Lumber County Jail. “Most of this battle will be fought in a place you cannot go, and you cannot touch.”

“In the hearts and the minds of the people,” said Czernobog. “Like at the big roundabout.”

“Huh?”

“The carousel,” said Mr. Nancy.

“Oh,” said Shadow. “Backstage. I got it. Like the desert with the bones in.”

Mr. Nancy raised his head. “Every time I figure you don’t have enough sense to bring guts to a bear, you surprise me. Yeah, that’s where the real battle will happen. Everythin’ else will just be flash and thunder.”

“Tell me about the vigil,” said Shadow.