Authors: Kelly Mccullough
Tags: #Computer Hackers, #Magic, #Fantasy Fiction, #Computers, #Contemporary, #General, #Fantasy, #Wizards, #Fiction
Codespell (20 page)
“Funny you should ask that,” said Athena. “I haven’t quite decided myself.”
“Maybe I can help you reach a decision?” I smiled and leaned forward. “You said I was smart after all.”
“I doubt it. The question is whether or not I should kill you.”
“Over one accidental gun violation?” I gasped. Overdramatic, I know, but I couldn’t help myself. “That seems extreme. ”
“Accidental or intentional doesn’t matter to me. In fact, the gun’s got nothing to do with it beyond putting you in my power long enough to arrange a killed-while-attempting-to-escape event. Or not.” She didn’t blink or miss a beat at that. “I still haven’t decided.”
OK, I was officially baffled. Terrified, but baffled. I could feel sweat starting under my hairline and the impulse to run my mouth increasing.
“What’s smart got to do with it?” I asked. “And why is it good one way and not the other?”
“It’s like this. You have shown yourself to be a very serious security risk to the pantheon. In a bit over a year, you’ve successfully cracked your way into the Fate Core—”
“And got caught,” I interjected, hoping to downplay my scary hacker factor.
“Castle Discord,” she continued.
“Likewise caught.”
“And Hades.”
“Ditto. Caught every time. How can I be such a security risk when I keep getting caught?”
“Because getting caught doesn’t seem to have the least bit of effect on your achieving your goals or on your continued cracking activities. In fact, despite being caught each time, you have moved from a minor nuisance confined to one House of Fate to a significant power answerable to no one. As the head of both physical and virtual security for Zeus and Olympus, it would be foolish of me not to be concerned about a pattern that has seen you crack three of four pole powers, leaving only this one to cross off your list.” She made a gesture that took in the walls around us and, by implication, Mount Olympus beyond.
“When you put it that way, it does sound kind of bad,” I said, still sweating.
“Is there some other way to put it?” Before I could answer, she continued. “The only question is whether I should make a very simple straightforward promise to you or kill you outright.”
“Votes for the promise?” I held up a hand. “Aye. What is it?”
“To kill you if I find you cracking or attempting to crack Olympus, which I will.”
I didn’t say anything in response, and she nodded after a bit. “Still smart.”
“How so?” Soaked—this was not someone I could bluff or charm.
“You know the difference between a threat and a promise. Maybe I won’t kill you.”
“Because I’m smart?” I asked.
“No, that’s just the minimum condition. You have to be smart enough to understand that I mean what I say, and that cracking Olympus is the same thing as dying. If you were stupid, I wouldn’t have any choice. I’d have to kill you. The only serious question is whether the short-term headaches involved in killing you are worth the saved later effort of doing it now.”
“Wait a second! I thought you said I was smart enough to understand how serious you were about cracking Olympus being fatal. Why should I cause you any trouble at all later?”
“Because of the Fate Core, Castle Discord, Hades, and Necessity, ” said Athena. “You have a pattern that suggests that no matter how smart you may be, you still do dumb things.”
“I didn’t so much crack Necessity as I got the keys and stopped in for a visit at the goddess’s own request.” That was my story, and I was sticking to it.
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about your last expedition. I was talking about the one you’re setting up now.”
“Uh . . .” I didn’t know how to answer that one, and I’d gone from soaked by sweat to swimming in the stuff. Her expression hadn’t changed a jot in the whole time we’d talked, and it was really starting to get to me.
“I think I am going to have to kill you,” she said. “It’s too bad, really. I do value smart, Goddess of Wisdom and all that.”
I felt a faint pricking in the skin above my heart and looked down to find the point of a silver spear resting lightly against my chest. The shaft led from there back to Athena’s right hand. She’d produced the weapon from nowhere without changing position or betraying any hint of her intent.
“You’re making a big mistake,” I said, while desperately trying to think of some way to change the situation.
“I don’t—drat.”
The spear vanished in the instant before the door burst open.
“There you are, my boy!” It was Zeus. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming by Olympus for a visit? I’d have arranged a dinner or something.” He swooped down and wrapped a huge bronze arm around my shoulders, lifting me easily from my chair. “I hear that wasn’t the only silly mistake you made, either. A gun? On Olympus? You know that’s frowned on, don’t you?”
He chortled. “Of course you do . . . now.” He turned and winked at Athena. “Am I right? Of course I’m right. I’m sure that my girl here’s been putting the fear of goddess in you on the subject. She’s got a talent for that, does our ’thena. Saves me a huge amount of trouble, knowing she’s already delivered the serious part of the lecture for me so I can go ahead and forgive you for being young and a fool. Always looking out for the old man. Aren’t you, dearie?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just swept me out into the hallway and from there to the street, spouting content-free enthusiasm of the “let me buy you a drink” variety the whole way. I found myself thinking of Realtors and used-car salesmen as we marched straight off to the nearest bar. A spontaneous party ensued, with satyrs and dryads appearing practically, or possibly literally, out of the woodwork. The place’s theme was sylvan woodland, and it was entirely possible that a couple of the trees holding up the roof were both alive and inhabited.
Things got blurry after that, though at some point Thalia and the other muses joined the festivities. When I got a moment to ask her about Melchior, she promised that he’d be along in a bit and went back to telling a shaggy-dog story involving actual shaggy dogs, including Cerberus, Ares’s “mutts of war,” Sirius, and a tail without a cat, which for reasons unclear was trying to find its lost smile.
Quite a bit later, I found myself sitting in a corner under a table. That’s when Melchior finally showed up and offered to take me home. By then I was ready to go. The only problem was where. We discussed it while we filled each other in on what had happened while we were separated—not much on his end, a chat with Thalia and a message from Cerberus saying that Nemesis had joined the party Styx-side a few minutes after we’d bugged out. None of that shed any light on our next step.
“Oh, the hell with it,” I finally said. “Let’s go back to Raven House. We probably shouldn’t stay, but at least it’ll let me grab a fresh outfit. Somehow, I don’t think stopping by Athena’s offices and asking for my old stuff back is a very healthy idea.”
“You think all this forgiveness Zeus is raining down upon you isn’t going to carry much weight with Athena?”
“Not an ounce. She’d already decided to kill me. If I stay out of sight and mind for a while, she may eventually decide to just fall back on that whole simple promise option, but I’d rather not put it to the test any earlier than I have to.”
“Sensible.” Melchior cocked his head to one side and frowned. “So was the way you dealt with the clops. Are you feeling feverish? Or”—he looked exaggeratedly worried— “have you been replaced with an alternate-reality Ravirn?”
“I didn’t fight with the rent-a-clops because I couldn’t bear the thought of upsetting Persephone. I didn’t do anything to piss off Athena because she’s the scariest creature I’ve ever met. I honestly couldn’t think of a single smart remark while we were talking. I was too busy sweating.”
“Wow,” said Melchior. “I think I’m glad I didn’t get a chance to meet her. I’ve seen you spit in the teeth of those who were about to kill you.”
“That’s very different, Mel. If I’d been
sure
she was going to kill me, I might have copped my usual attitude. If you’re definitely going to die, there’s no reason not to piss off the person who’s planning on killing you. If, on the other hand, the matter’s in doubt . . .”
sure
she was going to kill me, I might have copped my usual attitude. If you’re definitely going to die, there’s no reason not to piss off the person who’s planning on killing you. If, on the other hand, the matter’s in doubt . . .”
“I don’t know, it sounds like you might be maturing somewhere down in there, but I won’t argue with you.”
“There’s a miracle,” I said.
“So, how do you want to do this? Somehow, just showing up on the grand balcony at Raven House doesn’t seem the brightest of moves.”
“You’ve got a point. Let’s see . . .”
“What do you think?” I asked Mel.
“Looks quiet enough to me.”
We were lying on a rock ledge a few hundred feet above Raven House after coming in via an induced faerie ring and a miles-long hike.
Raven House lay about halfway down the forested slope of the mountain arm that forms the eastern flank of Hanalei Bay, not far from where the Princeville Hotel sits in most of the mainline versions of reality. It’s a beautiful site, with great folds of deep velvety green foliage forming a basin around the heart-stopping blue-green of the half-moon bay. Contrasts are provided by the thin crescent of white sand that separates the two and by splotches of chalky red rock outcroppings or the silvery lines of waterfalls.
The house itself is almost invisible from most angles, its glass-and-marble walls mimicking the sparkle of the waterfalls among the trees. Even from above, the broad expanse of the green mission-tiled roof blends well with its surroundings, an effect aided by the natural mottling of the clay and the moss growing here and there in the channels. If my subconscious really had produced this place essentially from scratch, it had done a mighty fine job.
I climbed to my feet but stayed low so as not to silhouette myself. “Might as well get it over with.”
“I just wish we could see Haemun,” said Melchior as he joined me.
“That’d be nice,” I agreed, as we made our way down to the back of the house.
When we got there, we headed for the side with the master bedroom. Melchior shinnied up a palm tree to its mountain-facing balcony—less exposed than the sea side. I waited impatiently while he scouted around. Finally, he returned, sticking his head out between two of the rail’s posts.
“You’d better come up here and see this, Boss.”
“See what?” I asked.
“It’ll be easier to show you. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around at the moment, but we can’t know how long that’ll last, so I suggest you hurry.”
Then he ducked out of sight. The edge of the balcony was probably fifteen feet off the ground. I might have been able to jump and catch it, but it was simply easier to follow Mel’s example with the palm tree.
The first change was apparent the instant I reached the upper level. The bedroom was carpeted with a living mat of moss. Or rather, it had been. All of the moss was dead, the victim of some sort of rust virus that had turned it red-brown and crunchy. All the bedclothes and curtains had also changed. Instead of the black and green of my personal colors, I found a sea of smoky silver and rusty red.
“Someone’s been sleeping in my bed,” said Melchior, tugging at one corner of the obviously used sheets.
“Is the rest of the house like this?” I asked.
Melchior nodded. “Much of it.”
Combine that with the fact that Melchior hadn’t found anyone around, and I was really starting to worry about Haemun.
“Closet?” I slipped past him to check, since I was getting tired of the damn tunic and sandals. Same story. “Somebody’s been trying on my clothes. Creepy.”
“Uh-huh,” he agreed. “Do you suppose this comes from Nemesis or from Dairn?”
“Do you think there’s a difference at this point?” I asked as I fished out a fresh set of silvery leathers and a red T-shirt—we could always fix the color later.
It was something I’d begun to wonder myself, how much of Dairn was left beyond the body. I decided not to take the time necessary to change just then—we had no way of knowing when Nemesis would be back. Besides, if the clothes really were cut for Dairn, they’d swamp me until we had time to adjust them.
“It’s hard to say,” said Melchior. “Nemesis certainly still has Dairn’s memories of you.”
“And the hatred he-she-they directed at me felt very visceral and personal.”
“I wouldn’t go too far down that road,” said Melchior, “I mean, Nemesis is a soul of vengeance. From what Eris said, it sounds like she takes
everything
personally.
everything
personally.
I slung the clothes over my shoulder and headed for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” asked Melchior, trailing along behind me.
“I want to look around for Haemun.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“I notice you’re not arguing with me.” I started down the steps as quietly as possible.
“I’m worried about him, too. Hang on a second.”
Very quietly, Melchior whistled a short burst of binary. Then he reached into an invisible hole, his arm vanishing to the shoulder as he rummaged around. A moment later he pulled his arm back out and handed me the pistol he’d tucked away for me on the night of the party.
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