Authors: Kelly Mccullough
Tags: #Computer Hackers, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy Fiction, #Computers, #Contemporary, #General, #Fantasy, #Wizards, #Adventure, #Hell, #Fiction
Melchior looked at me like I was out of my mind. “Off everybody’s
list
? You’re mad. You know that, right?” He held up a finger. “Atropos, the Fate with the Shears.
Wants you dead.”
Another finger.
“Tisiphone, Fury of fire, remember her? She wants your ass as a plaything.”
A third finger.
“Clotho, Fate’s spinner.
Who knows what she’s got on her mind, but you can bet she didn’t name you Raven just for giggles.” More fingers.
“Lachesis.
Alecto.
Megaera.
Eris.”
He shook his head at that last. “I don’t know what Discord wants with you, but she doesn’t invite you to her place all the time solely to fleece you at poker.” He looked at his hands. “That’s seven.
Hades.
Cerberus.
Hey, I have one finger left for Persephone. That’s
nice,
I thought I was going to run out. Maybe you can get on Zeus’s list, too, and I can start in on toes.”
“All right,” I said.
“Point taken.
My profile is way too high, and I should probably learn to keep my head down a little more.”
“Oh yeah,” said Melchior. “Like that’s gonna happen.
Might as well ask Aphrodite to stop sleeping around.
I wasn’t trying to untie the Gordian knot, just reminding you that you need to keep both eyes open and not get complacent.”
“What if I think complacent sounds like a wonderful idea?” He raised an eyebrow. “All right, that sounds whiny even to me. Can I at least pretend that everything’s beautiful and that I’m not going to have to cope with shit like this whole Raven thing for one entire day?”
“If that means you’re actually going to deal with it all tomorrow, sign me up. I’m not going to hold my breath, though.”
“Probably a good idea.
You’ve already turned blue.” I rolled out of bed, and Melchior hopped down after me. “Come on, let’s go get some ice cream and play hooky for the afternoon.”
What I really wanted was to haul out my motorcycle and break some speed laws, but there was enough ice on the roads to guarantee that all I’d do was trash the bike and pick up some spectacular road rash.
We stopped by the Creamery again a couple of hours later, after visiting the electronics store and before heading for Cerice’s lab. She and Shara welcomed the treat, but we couldn’t pry them loose from their work despite the fact that Shara still didn’t look anything like back to normal.
It took another two days and the successful delivery of the repaired portion of her program to her advisor to achieve that goal. By then she’d had enough time with Shara that she was willing to let her go off with Melchior to discuss “goblin things,” an ever-mysterious category that probably included a lot of rude jokes in binary and gossip about their respective sorcerers.
I took advantage of the moment to get Cerice to go out for a late breakfast with me. We ended up at a little Thai place that we both loved. It had been a bar at some point in its past and featured deep booths with thick wooden backs that went all the way to the ceiling and guaranteed a certain amount of privacy. We’d gotten our appetizers, and I was just getting ready to ask Cerice what she thought about
us
, when she preempted me.
“I’m worried about Shara,” she said. “She’s not acting quite herself.”
“She’s doing better than she was a week ago,” I said. “Then she was acting like death warmed over. Oh, wait. That’s right. She
was
death warmed over a week ago.” Cerice’s face clouded, and I held up a hand to forestall her response. “Look, I’m not trying to be funny. OK, maybe I am, but I’m making a serious point. She was dead a week ago.
Dead, Cerice.
Wrong side of the River Styx.
Hades is not a good place to be. I only spent a few hours there, but it’s provided me with a whole new set of nightmares. I’d be deeply shocked if she were acting completely like her old self.”
“I don’t know, maybe you’re right. I want to believe that, but if feels like there’s something more. It’s so hard. I want everything back the way it used to be.”
“Give Shara some time to
reground
herself in the here and now. She’s got to deal with this in her own way,” I continued. “Don’t push.”
Cerice nodded, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. Who could blame her? Shara was her daughter as much as her best friend, the creation of her heart and her magic, and she had been imprisoned in Hades. Look what that had done to Persephone’s mother, the Earth. The goddess had been so stricken with grief that she’d literally fallen over, turning her feet to the sun so that eternal winter came to hide the goddess’s face where it looked out of Greece. Only Zeus’s intervention with Hades had gotten her upright again, and that not completely, leaving her forever off balance.
Twenty-three degrees off, the tilt that gave us the modern seasons.
Less poetic than the other version, but at least as true.
Our entrées arrived then, and we spent a little time in lighter conversation as we paid the excellent food some much deserved attention. When we’d gotten to the stage of filling in the corners, I decided it was time to have a go at relationship debugging.
“Cerice?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
She grinned. “So I’d gathered.” She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “I’m happy that you do,” she said, “but I have to say, falling for someone like me is probably not the wisest thing you’ve ever done.”
“I didn’t fall for someone like you, Cerice. I fell for you. You’re smart and gorgeous and talented. You’re a splendid coder, and I’d certainly be dead without the help you gave me in my fight with Fate.”
“Thank you, but—”
“Hang on, I’m not finished. You’re also deadly slick at avoiding things you don’t want to talk about, like us.”
She let go of my hand and leaned back into the side of the booth with a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Ravirn. I know the way I am is hard on you. I care for you deeply, and I want us to stay together and see where that goes. I even want to tell you that I love you. I just . . . can’t. Not yet.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the chest. Words formed in my mind, hurt words,
bitter
words. Somehow, I held them in. Though my mouth has gotten me into a world of trouble over the years, I’ve always managed to keep it leashed around Cerice. Perhaps because she and Melchior are all I’ve got left.
“I thought it was Shara,” she said into the silence, “that I was still mourning her passing, or holding out hope for her return, or even just blaming you for her death. I know that’s not true now. I’m not sure what’s holding me back. I don’t really understand myself anymore.”
“Fantastic.” I couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
“Please,” she said. “Don’t be angry.”
“Maybe I should step out for a while and drop back in once you find yourself?” It didn’t come out the way I’d meant it to, and I regretted saying it even before I finished.
Cerice looked like she’d been slapped. “Maybe you should,” she said. “Maybe while you’re out, you can find out who Raven is.”
I didn’t have an answer for that, so I picked up the check and headed for the register. After that, Cerice went back to the lab, and I headed for the apartment. We said good-bye, but there was no kiss, no physical contact at all.
“Ouch,” said Melchior when I told him about it later. “But she’s right about the Raven thing. You know that, don’t you?”
“No. I don’t.” He opened his mouth, but I didn’t wait to listen. “Melchior. Mtp://mweb.DecLocus.prime.Styx.”
I was angry enough that I almost forgot the “Please.” When I did say it, a split second too late, I knew it sounded insincere. Melchior’s mouth shut with an audible snap. For a long moment I thought he was going to tell me to stuff it and walk away. I would have deserved it. I was clearly in a mood for self-destruction. Witness my destination.
No one could deny that I owed Dave and Mort and Bob an apology, but the sensible thing would have been to “say it with flowers,” preferably from a great distance. I didn’t think Cerberus would eat me at this point, but I wouldn’t have bet money one way or the other.
Melchior shook his head. His eyes practically shouted “Stupid idea, dip boy,” but he didn’t say it. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all until he eventually acknowledged my request for a gate with the formal syntax of an accepted program.
“Executing.
Connecting to prime.Styx.”
A pause followed, one that stretched out unnaturally. Since we were in the apartment, he was using the hexagram Cerice and I had permanently inscribed under the oriental carpet in the living room instead of sketching one in chalk or light. On top of that, the Styx was part of the same world as Olympus, the center of the universe and home of the mweb core architecture. With that double advantage, the connection should have come so quickly that a flesh-and-blood creature like me wouldn’t even notice the gap.
Instead, a full and unnatural two minutes passed before Melchior finally said, “Connected.
Initiating Gate procedure.”
I wanted to ask him what was up, but his expression didn’t invite conversation. He reinforced that conclusion by changing into his laptop shape as soon as light filled the gate. His lid was firmly closed. I took his point and tucked him into my shoulder bag. One more apology owed.
Then I stepped into the light. I would soon see whether the hound of hell was still my friend.
The second I appeared Styx-side, a great baying began. I was tempted to have Melchior gate me back out again on the spot. But that would have involved admitting I was wrong. While I might be thinking it in my own head, I still needed some time before I was willing to share. Instead of sensibly fleeing, I sat down on a rock and waited.
The near bank of the Styx is rocky and dark, a black stone beach under eternal twilight. I’ve never been entirely certain whether it is actually in a cave under Olympus, or just in a pocket reality anchored to the mountain of the gods. There’s little in the way of living vegetation on the near shore, and what there is has thorns and spines. If it doesn’t stick you, cut you, or try to poison you, it isn’t native. The black waters flow by in unnatural silence, so the huge splash that ended the baying was all the clearer.
Soon I could see the great vee made by Cerberus’s mighty chest cutting the water as he swam to meet me. His eyes
glowed
a baleful red as he glared in my direction. That was new, and the hairs on the back of my neck danced in response. Still, I held my ground. Part of that
was
bravado, part stubbornness, and part pure calculation.
The river marked the ultimate border of Hades’ domain. He held sway over the ground from its far side to the physical borders of the underworld and was absolute ruler within the latter’s walls. But here, I stood on Zeus’s territory. I didn’t believe Hades was fool enough to lightly order one of the children of the Titans murdered in his brother’s fiefdom.
Whether Cerberus might kill me without his master’s sanction made for an iffier question. After our last meeting at the gate, I was inclined to believe he wouldn’t just tear me to shreds. Shaking muddy river water all over me, however, turned out to be fair game, a fact I found out after he bounded up the hill to meet me.
As soon as I’d scraped enough of the foul stuff out of my eyes to see again, I gave Cerberus a slight bow.
“Nicely splashed.
I take it then that you’re not just going to bite my head off?”
“How do you figure that?” asked Bob, an edge of anger clear in his voice.
“I suppose I could be wrong,” I said, “but you never struck me as a big fan of muck-blackened cuisine.”
“Point,” said Mort, sounding much calmer than Bob.
“Not bad,” agreed Dave, clearly amused, “but what if we just didn’t think of it? What if our poor little doggy brains don’t plan things out that well?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Poor little doggy brains? Nice try, Dave, but I’m not buying it. You’ve got about as much in common with a normal dog as I do with a sparrow.”
“That might be more than you think,
Raven
,” said Mort. “There are certain habits of thought and behaviors that we share with our mortal kin.”
“Like an irrational attachment to our two-legged friends,” Bob said, giving Dave a sour look.
“Look,” began Dave, his voice hot, “just because I like Raven and take my duties to our mistress more seriously than you do—”
“That bitch hates Hades,” snarled Bob. “I’ve never liked her. From the day he brought her home, she’s caused nothing but trouble. We owe her nothing!
Nothing.
I wish she’d go away and never come back, that her mother would just keep her.”
“Jealous much?”
Dave sneered.
“Of Persephone?” howled Bob. “That’s a joke, right?”
“If the collar fits . . .” said Dave.
Bob growled low in his throat and Dave snapped at him contemptuously. Seconds later both heads were barking and snarling at each other.
Meanwhile, Mort had moved as far away from the other two heads as he could. “At least I’m not between them,” he said to me in a quiet aside. “Sometimes I wish I could take a couple of weeks off from pack life and play only dog.” The barking cut off abruptly as Dave and Bob locked jaws, straining against each other.
Mort shook his head. “Bob never learns.”