Coils

by Barbara Ann Wright

  By equal turns wrestling Pandora and sitting on her, they had her subdued in moments. Arachne bound her hands with webs, and she lay in the street, muttering curses.

  Adonis and his gang had cut themselves free, and Agamemnon pointed a shaky finger their way. “Stay back, or we’ll let her up again.”

  Adonis seemed too dumbstruck to do anything but stare. “What the hell was that?”

  “She can open anything,” Arachne said, “so I guess she opened a portal to…” She stared at the air. “Gods know where.”

  Adonis stood up straighter. “Do you have any idea what Scylla costs per hour? Or what it will cost me when I tell Triton that I let his offspring, his moneymaker, be sucked into…whatever? How in fuck do I get her back?”

  Pandora bared her teeth. “You don’t. Serves you right. You burned my books, you asshole!”

  He pointed at her but seemed at a loss for words. “No,” he said at last. “Serves you right for throwing your hat in with people who go back on their word.” He nodded, seeming to gain steam from the argument he’d just come up with. “That’s right. You align yourself with dishonest people and look what happens.”

  Agamemnon drew his sword, and several of Adonis’s gang drew weapons as well. “You attacked her home,” Agamemnon said, “attacked all of us, and it wasn’t even us you wanted?”

  Adonis held his arms out. “Like I said, old man, you chose your side.” He waved vaguely at Cressida. “Choosing liars. How is that a way to behave?” As if sensing his argument crumbling, he shuffled his feet, and those in his gang exchanged looks, all of them probably wondering where this was going, if they’d made a horrible mistake.

  Adonis rallied, though, stabbing his finger in Cressida’s direction again. “This is what you get for not following through. You burned her books, Cressida. You cast Scylla into space or whatever.” He snapped his fingers. “Yes, you’re responsible for that, too. I shall inform Triton.”

  Her mouth fell open, and it was all she could do not to march forward and punch him in the gut. “If you didn’t want burnt books and missing monsters,” she said, “you should have stayed at home!”

  “Yeah,” Arachne said. “Go home, pretty boy.”

  He bristled then paused as if searching for the insult in that statement. Finally, his face seemed to settle on affronted. “No.”

  Was this how they usually fought? Hurling insults like children or knocking monsters into each other’s buildings and throwing Molotov cocktails? She wondered if the whole city would burn down, if it even could. And now they were having a standoff in the middle of the street; at least the bystanders had either ran off or been obliterated, so they didn’t have to worry about more innocents getting hurt. Except for the naiad, who seemed to want to see how the whole thing turned out.

  “You want to settle this, fine,” Adonis said. “Cressida, come with us, get the ambrosia you owe me, and we’ll call it even.”

  “I don’t owe you anything!” she said. “You never found my aunt.”

  “It was ambrosia first, aunt second, and I notice that Medusa hasn’t found your aunt, either.”

  “She’s a hell of a lot closer than you are!”

  “Whatever the two of you are fighting about didn’t involve us,” Agamemnon said, “but it does now. You attacked us, and we’re not going to let you get away with it.”

  Everyone fell to shouting again, Cressida joining in, but the naiad touched her arm as if seeking sanctuary, and she couldn’t help moving in front of him, small and slender as he was. First he’d almost been sucked into a void, then he’d helped tackle the person who’d made the void, and now he was getting pulled into a street fight between rival gangs and mercenaries.

  “Cressida,” he said in her ear, his voice a gentle hiss. It put her in mind of soft foam spreading over seashells and warm, wet sand between her toes, of the surf’s gentle glide as the tide went out.

  She turned and looked into eyes with such depth they were measured in fathoms, swirls of blue and green fading to impenetrable black. There was peace in those eyes, so much more of it than the shouting that had already faded to a gentle murmur.

  “Cressida,” he said again, but it wasn’t him calling. It was the deep, all the majesty of the sea calling her to swim into eternity. It knew her, knew what was best, and as the deep began to move away, she moved with it, confident it knew where it was taking her.

  *

  Medusa stood almost nose to nose with Adonis. After he’d called her out about Cressida’s aunt, never mind that it was true, he’d kept pushing, his insults getting more personal until she’d had to stalk toward him. She was so tempted to use her power. It probably wouldn’t work, but it would make him stutter for a moment.

  When his gaze flicked over her shoulder the first time, she thought he was checking to see if any of his buddies were close enough to help him. When he looked again, she glanced around, too, and noted that everyone had squared off against an opponent who seemed to be making his or her insults very personal, all but Pandora, who was still tied up on the pavement.

  And Cressida, who’d disappeared.

  “You giant fuckhead!” she shouted to Adonis. “What have you done with her?” His face screwed up in a mockery of surprise, but it was the fakest reaction she’d ever seen. She grabbed his shirtfront. “Don’t even try it. Where is Cressida?”

  He swept his hands down and dislodged one of hers, but the other stayed wadded near his collar, sending his sweater skewing across his shoulders. When he tried to move away, the sweater gaped, the weave pulling, and his face darkened in real anger. He took a swing. She ducked, keeping hold of him so she could drag him forward when she straightened and bury her fist in his sculpted abs.

  Her fist didn’t sink in as much as she’d hoped, but she heard his oomph and knew it’d done some good. Yelling had turned to fighting around them, but no one was throwing fire again, not yet.

  Adonis brought his elbow down on her scapula, and she let go as shockwaves traveled from her shoulder to her core. She went with the motion, falling down and balancing on her hands while she kicked for his knee.

  He leapt back, croaked, “Run!” and dashed for an alley.

  “No you don’t!” Medusa pushed after him, her power roiling over her. One of the henchman ran in front of her and shuddered into stone, face locked in fear. She darted past him, following Adonis, but he outdistanced her quickly and knew enough to keep his people behind him. Arachne’s webs grabbed one, and Agamemnon cut another down, but Adonis stayed ahead. He dove into an elevator that seemed to be waiting for him, his henchmen arrayed around him. He kept his eyes averted but still managed to give her the finger before the elevator doors slipped closed.

  She skidded to a halt and banged on the doors, but they wouldn’t open, and as the elevator car sped away, she had to stagger back so she wouldn’t be dragged along. Her snakes writhed and curled around her ears, hissing, snapping at air.

  “Um,” someone behind her said.

  She whirled, but Agamemnon had his face buried in his sleeve. “Are you still…you know?”

  She bottled her power but barely, still gripped by rage. “You’re safe.”

  “What happened?” he asked. “We were arguing and then—”

  “They’ve got Cressida.”

  He sighed deeply. “Great. Now word will spread, and everyone will think we’ve joined forces.” He gave her a look that hinted it was as much her problem as his.

  She shook her head. “Well, you can try and fend them off if they come after you again, or you can come with me.”

  With another sigh, he gestured back the way they’d come. “Let’s spread out and look for her.”

  She marched toward the others. “Did anyone see where Cressida went? We have to find her.”

  “We don’t work for you,” Arachne said, but Agamemnon peeked into the windows of buildings on one side of the street while Medusa tried doors.

  “Untie me,” Pandora said. “I’ll help
.”

  Arachne stood over her. “Fat chance.”

  “I’m quite sane again, I assure you. And now that there’s no one to fight, I’m no threat.” She sounded very reasonable, and she was another pair of eyes.

  “Cut her loose,” Medusa said. When Arachne didn’t move, she added, “If you make me go looking for a knife, I’ll want to use it for more than just untying someone. Want to be my target?”

  Arachne rolled her eyes, but she cut Pandora loose.

  The crazed look had gone from Pandora’s eyes as she picked up her glasses. She bent the frames slightly and put them on before dusting off her sensible sweater and slacks. “Thank you. I saw Cressida talking to a naiad.”

  “The one she saved?” Medusa sighed and rubbed her forehead. “And here I was hoping she’d learned not to help random people.”

  “He called her by name, but I didn’t hear anything else,” Pandora said. “Nor did I see where they went, but if she didn’t pass any of you, then by process of elimination, she had to go either this way”—she pointed behind them toward her house—“or that way.” She gestured down the street to the left, the path that would have taken her past Medusa’s back without crossing Agamemnon or Arachne. “And I doubt they went in the house.”

  Medusa started to the left, Agamemnon and Pandora staying with her while Arachne dogged their steps like an errant child. Medusa wondered why she didn’t leave, but maybe something about a kidnapping intrigued her, or maybe she’d come to the same conclusion Agamemnon had: they were safer as a team than they were alone.

  If the naiad had said nothing more than Cressida’s name, it could still be powerful, especially from the lips of a creature with hypnotic powers.

  “Hey, instead of opening random doors and scaring the populace,” Arachne said, “why don’t we ask this guy?” She’d gone back and returned with one of Adonis’s henchmen, a satyr, webs holding his arms tight to his body.

  “Oh, well remembered and well caught!” Medusa grabbed the satyr and beamed into his face. “Arachne, I could kiss you.”

  To Medusa’s complete surprise, Arachne blushed, hints of red showing around her pale make-up. “Shut up.” She shuffled her feet.

  “Oh, my lovely,” Medusa said to the satyr. “The things we will do to you if you don’t start talking.”

  He rolled his lips under as if that could keep him safe or quiet. Medusa sighed and put a hand to her forehead as if tired. The other hand she drummed against the satyr, fingernails making a slight scratch against the logo on his T-shirt. She wanted to grab his horns and wrench his head until he told her where Adonis had taken Cressida, but she kept her voice calm.

  “What do you think?” she said to the others. “I mean, we can turn him over to the powerful people we know.”

  They glanced at one another, and evil smiles started on their faces as they seemed to catch her gist. They wouldn’t have to do a thing to him if they convinced him that they could.

  “Let’s give him to Medea,” Arachne said. “She can make a person think his guts are slowly spilling out or his limbs are dropping off just by staring at him.” She chuckled. “You know, once she made this guy think he was being cooked alive in an oven. I never heard anyone scream so loud, and the whole time, he was just sitting in a comfortable chair.” She wrapped an arm around the satyr’s shoulders. “We had to burn that chair, not just because of the random fluids he leaked, but because halfway through the session, his skin actually started to blister and flake.”

  The satyr trembled and stared at her with wide eyes.

  “Oh,” Agamemnon said, “there’s no need to bring in other people. I have a sword. You have a knife. Pandora has no end of tools in her house. We can get creative.” He thumbed the edge of his sword, making the metal ring dully. “You find out quite a bit about a person when they’re losing bits of themselves.” He grinned as if that was the cleverest thing he’d ever heard, and that was almost as frightening as his threat.

  “Messy,” Pandora said. “I can open him up without tools.” She held her hands a few inches apart in front of the satyr’s chest. “I focus on where the seams are and pull them aside. I can clamp off the arteries so there’s hardly any blood, but we’ll need a drop-cloth to catch the organs.”

  “Okay!” the satyr screamed. “Look, no one told me anything about ovens or swords or my chest opening and my freaking organs spilling out.” He breathed hard, slightly green under his fur. “I just took this job the other day. This chimera was giving me a hard time, and my cousin told me to join a gang, but I didn’t think I’d be rumbling my first day out, and I definitely didn’t sign up for any of this shit!”

  Medusa shrugged. “So, start talking.”

  “Do you think they told me anything useful?” His breath came in shorter and shorter pants. Any minute now, he’d pass out. “I mean, I knew we were after the living woman, and I knew her name was Cressida, and we were either supposed to incapacitate or distract you so the naiad could sneak off with her, but you’ve already figured that out.” He stared pleadingly at Medusa. “You notice I said incapacitate or distract. Our orders were very clear. We weren’t to kill you.” He looked to Pandora. “And I am so sorry about your books, ma’am. You know, I’m quite the reader myself.” He put on a sickly smile. “And if I can help you replace or repair any damages, just let me know. I have a cousin who’s a carpenter, and I don’t know if that will help—”

  “Where are they taking Cressida?” Medusa asked.

  “I don’t know! Back to Adonis and Narcissus’s place would be my guess, but the gang has a few hideouts, which I would be more than happy to show you.” He grinned like a helpful realtor.

  “You really think they’ll take her anyplace a toadie like this knows about?” Arachne asked.

  “A very helpful, very polite toadie,” the satyr said.

  Medusa didn’t know for certain. It seemed unlikely they’d put someone as valuable as Cressida anywhere a low-level member of the gang would know about. This one was clearly cannon fodder, and they had to suspect someone like him might be caught.

  “It’s worth a shot,” Medusa said. “We can’t storm Narcissus and Adonis’s house. It’ll be too well guarded. But maybe one of their other properties will yield us a prisoner with more information.”

  The satyr nodded. “That is a very good plan, ma’am, very well thought out, if I may say so.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She looked to the other three. “So, are you coming with me, or is this where you give me a speech about this not being any of your concern, etc.”

  Arachne and Agamemnon exchanged a glance. Pandora said, “They burned my books,” and Medusa knew she was in, at least until her books had been avenged.

  Agamemnon sighed. “I do like that girl. She has courage. It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone so willing to stick her neck out for other people.” He smiled softly. “And I do love a good rescue operation. I’m in.”

  Arachne rolled her eyes. “Well, if you three freaks are going, we might as well make it four.” She rested an arm on the satyr’s head. “What do we do with him?”

  “Why not make it five?” the satyr asked loudly. “One gang is as good as another, and I would really like to be on your side.”

  Medusa gave him a genuine smile. “And there’s no way I’m trusting you, but I don’t want to kill you either. You’ll be here, tied up in Pandora’s house until we come back.”

  He nodded hurriedly. “That is also a fantastic plan, ma’am. First rate and beautifully articulated.” When she stared at him, wondering just where he went to toadie school, he beamed nervously. “And your hair looks fantastic. I like it.” She had to keep staring, just to see what he would do, and his eyes took on a pinched, panicked look, his smile turning sickly. “Do you use a moisturizer?”

  Arachne barked a laugh. “Let’s park him and go already.”

  *

  Cressida drifted with the fish and the w
aves, spiraling from one current to another, lost in endless blue. She’d forgotten what she was, air or water, fish or mammal. She was relaxation given form.

  “How much longer?” someone said.

  That wasn’t right. No one could speak under the waves, at least not in a language she understood. Fish had their own language, and their sounds had surrounded her, but she couldn’t understand them.

  Because she was a person, not a fish.

  And people couldn’t breathe underwater.

  She bent double and coughed, hands on her knees, and she expected water to come rushing out as she gasped and heaved, but there was nothing. She wasn’t in the water at all but in a lushly appointed sitting room, all plush couches and armchairs and a carpet with such deep pile, she might have been able to lie down in it and disappear.

  “I thought you said you could keep her under all day if necessary!” someone yelled, and she knew that voice. Adonis.

  “I said the exact opposite, if you’ll recall, which you won’t because you never listen!”

  “Well, maybe if you had something useful to say…”

  “How long I can keep a person under is a very useful fact, I should think!”

  Adonis mumbled something, and Cressida turned to where he stood talking to the naiad in the hall outside the room. They were ignoring her, though blocking the way out, and Cressida had already deduced that they’d done something to her to bring her here, though the past few moments were a bit hazy.

  She stamped a foot as quietly as she could and nearly swore for all she was worth. This was the third time someone had taken over her mind since she’d come here! Definitely something to warn tourists about if she ever published her own Guide to the Underworld.

  Adonis mumbled something else, his face turned toward the hall’s marble floor.

  “What was that?” the naiad asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t think I don’t know what you and Narcissus think of me. I know you only like the pretty ones! Well, if I’m not pretty enough to be paid attention to—” He made as if to storm out but only took a few steps before Adonis caught his arm, reassuring him of his attractiveness and asking him what the gang could do to make apologies to Triton.