“But I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Marcus said. He wasn’t really sure why he kept talking, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I might be in trouble. You know … all the stuff in the arena. I killed people. For all I know there’ll be cops waiting for me on the other end.”

“If there are I will give them an earful,” Olena said. “I’ll tell them you are Infamous Black Tongue, who helped save the world. It’s true, and soon everyone will know. You shouldn’t worry. You are a hero.” She climbed into the truck and fell into instant banter with the driver.

Marcus settled in the truck bed. As the vehicle began to move, he set a hand on Father Squid. “Father, I hope you don’t mind flying. I never asked you about that, but I guess you’ve been around the world already. This is just one more trip. Maybe the last one, all right?”

With his hand gripped around the prayer bench, Marcus looked up and took in the landscape scrolling by around them. This place, that had seemed so foreign at first, didn’t seem that way anymore. It occurred to him like it never had before that he was at home on the earth, even far away from the places he knew. The world just didn’t seem quite as large anymore, not when he could come all the way around the globe and find people he cared about, and who cared about him.

Still, it felt good to be going home, no matter what awaited him there. If the cops didn’t grab him he’d head straight to Jokertown. He’d take Father Squid to Our Lady of Perpetual Misery. Father Squid had said it was a sanctuary. Now it would be his sanctuary forever after.

Maybe, Marcus thought, it’ll be mine, too.

“Father,” Marcus said, “I’m taking you home.”

Michelle opened her eyes. Looking down at her was Joey. There was a fresh bandage on Joey’s forehead where Mollie had taken a bite out of her eyebrow.

“About fucking time you woke up.”

Michelle started to sit up and discovered that she was weak. Her hands instinctively went to her body to check for fat. She felt hipbones and ribs, then stopped. Time enough to put fat on later. But she hurt. She still hurt.

“There’s someone here to see you,” Joey said. There was an odd tone in her voice.

Michelle shoved herself up. She saw a joker girl sitting in the corner. Michelle took her to be fourteen or fifteen, about the age Michelle had been when she’d been emancipated from her parents. The girl wore faded jeans, low-cut Converse Chucks, and an American Hero T-shirt.