Salt Shaken

by Winnie Winkle

  “Once the cops clear the scene, bleach and sand the stains in the dining room. It’s possible we can still pull off the final weekend,” I said.

  In my heart I thought that was optimistic, but I knew if we could open, they’d want to try.

  “I’m headed to the station to make a formal statement,” I continued. Untrue, but it got me out of the restaurant. Instead, I stepped out and palmed back into The Boogey, huddling with Chelsea and Glenna.

  “Thank you.”

  Chelsea waved off the words as a faint gong sounded.

  “Patron Guru, the god Dionysis banned your presence.”

  “Well, at least he knows the rest of us figured out his stunt,” Glenna laughed and glanced from the window as Guru mounted his bike and vanished.

  “You said Gaia was here, Chelsea. What happened?”

  “She materialized in The Boogey, watched for ten seconds, and sent the mer through the windows. She looked, for her, nonplussed. Gaia’s ego is unflappable, but you surprised her. She couldn’t see you, although I suspect she’ll go verify if you’re still her personal firefly.”

  “How are you sure I remained hidden?”

  Glenna grinned. “Because I made us invisible to all magic and the divine.” She held up a potion vial. “My recipe. Gaia thought she was here alone, so no need to hide her thoughts. She searched for you, but did not sense your signature.”

  “But I can see you.”

  “Because you are human, and the Vapor bits are something beyond magical or divine. I don’t know enough about them to tweak the potion. Yet.”

  “Oh, I have every faith.”

  “Keeper,” she chuckled, “so do I.”

  “Patra, a moment?”

  Ballard’s face, as he crooked his finger, said nothing, but he had to be freaking out over his crime scene. Hell, it freaked me. What the fuck was Gaia thinking? She intended to change the planet on a grand scale, yet this attack was personal. She brought the fight to me, my bar.

  Or did she?

  Dammit, I’m being a dumbass. She attacked at the intersection of the worlds. What if this wasn’t based on the line’s location or me as Keeper, but older, calling back to her hatred of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades? Zeus created the line between the worlds. His treatment of her, her Vapor oracles, and the subjugation of her creation, coalesce right here.

  My skin lit up with a series of symbols, and I stared before pulling my sleeves down and moving toward Ballard. I could give a shit if he saw them, but for the three cops standing with him sporting burgeoning PTSD faces, animated tattoos might be a road too far.

  “What the living hell was that, O’Keefe?” the cop, a beanpole named Jackson, muttered. “A fucked up publicity stunt?”

  “I wish I knew, Detective, I’m as perplexed as you. And why my place? Those men were, uh, strange.”

  Considering they had tails, true. I knew why, though, but as far as lies go, benign and well within a margin that I’m adept at skirting.

  The medical examiner followed the gurney, overloaded and swaddled to hide the mer’s tail, and flicked his eyes to Ballard, giving a brief shrug.

  “I don’t have to tell you to keep this one secure.” Ballard slid on sunglasses and shifted his weight.

  “Not a peep from me, Detective. Not the weirdest thing to hit my table, but damn close.”

  No shit? Huh.

  I cocked my head at him and concentrated, picking up the signature. Warlock, which makes sense in the basic creepy, half-demon, hanging out with dead bodies type of way. Helpful. No leaks from that department.

  The ME followed the bodies to their vans, accompanying the mer’s body while his human assistant rode with the husband’s body. Lights flashing, the vans exited, heading north.

  A sigh blew from my chest, a decrepit whistle of breath. “Detective, you wanted a word?”

  “Jackson, take Bonner and Markham and assign officers to speak to every witness at The Boogie, then go take victim’s statements at the hospital. I’ll interview Ms. O’Keefe, then drive to the medical examiner’s office. The key piece here is the dead perp.” Ballard rubbed his temple. “Let’s get a handle on, shit, whatever the fuck happened.”

  The three nodded and marched along the pier. I slipped behind The Boogie’s fragrant dumpster, which smelled better than a Boogie full of mer, and stared at the sea, searching for cross hatches and irregularities in the waves that signaled potential reentry. Nothing odd… so far. Ballard eliminated the air between us and wrapped his arms around me.

  “The chances of this progressing as a normal case are nil,” I began. “To clarify, your ME is a magical, and that mer will appear human to everyone. Witches will wipe memories. It’ll stay weird, but normal beach level eccentric, not full-blown otherworld hookah party.”

  “That makes it easier for me,” Ballard’s lips moved against my ear. “But it might be an opening you can exploit?”

  Perhaps.

  “The witches saw Gaia return the mer to the sea. She wanted mayhem, but when you showed up and fought back, you altered the outcome. For now. My gut’s nudge insists this slice and dice party is a swipe at Zeus, and maybe Poseidon, but not at me, the Vapors, or the record. She’s going to figure out, if she hasn’t found out already, that I no longer burn as her private glow stick. Once she knows that, it’s on. Trust your intuition, Ballard, no matter how bizarre the situation gets. Promise me?”

  Fingertips gripped my jaw, turning me into his kiss. “I’ll know you and love you. Everything else, I can wing, OK?”

  Tears pricked the back of my throat, and I nodded.

  I hope I can too, Baby. But losing you last time damn near killed me. Love hurts.

  Gaia whirled, formless in the void.

  “Impossible! Who helped you?”

  Vapors whorled, a tornado of thought, pressing against her in the flow.

  The Keeper determined the truth and acted. We beseech you to reconsider your path. The decision you made was based not on necessity but on pain. Within its outcomes, none offer what you most desire.

  “You no longer serve me? Then you’re a race with expired usefulness. I’ll consume you as I did Uranus and the rest!”

  We are beyond your touch. Our single purpose is peace.

  “I’ll destroy this and create anew, a creation of universal power and force, bound as one.”

  That is no longer your role.

  Gaia retracted and expanded in the free fall, scattering the symbols, then pulling them into her, a cosmic black hole. She fell, absorbed, satisfied.

  “You’re going to what?” Chelsea’s face pinched. “Wait, no. Don’t tell me ‘what’, instead explain how in the actual hell you think you can fool anybody for longer than half a minute?”

  “Since you have a stake in this party, namely surviving, I hoped you’d see the benefits of a partnership.”

  “You’ve lost your damn mind! I’m a witch, not a god, and what you’re asking is ridiculous.”

  “But not impossible,” Glenna interrupted, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “I bet I have a potion that could help with part of the transformation.”

  “I figured out the physicality,” I said, “but I’ll need some, er, abilities.”

  “Indeed,” Glenna laughed. “There are a few I could suggest.”

  Chelsea stopped pacing, made a slow turn, and glanced at her mother. “While it might work, we could all die, too.”

  “If Gaia goes full reset on us, we’re dying, anyway. I’m choosing to make it inconvenient,” I muttered. “Plus, she dropped her crankiness on my bar. Gloria didn’t deserve that. Neither did the man who died, nor the mer manipulated to fight. None of them did.”

  “Hey, Patra.”

  I whipped around. “Parker! What are you doing here?”

  “Aunt Glo is stable, and I’m ready to get to work. Use me. I’m the unknown entity.”

  “Which will get you killed, Kid. That’s a full-blown nope.”

  “Patra, I’ll work with you, or o
n my own, but I’m not camping on my ass; that bitch attacked my family.”

  “Wait a minute,” Glenna and Chelsea exchanged a long look, then Chelsea blasted a green-eyed glare at me. “Stop protecting him. The record’s choice to make him Keeper means he has a role. Use him! Parker isn’t standing here because of you; the Triune’s’ survival is in play.”

  Use him? Get him killed?

  Hades’ potion tickled the side of my mind.

  How much is predetermined? What percentage is free will? Poseidon said if it’s written, he can’t sway the outcome. Written where?

  Shit, I’m an idiot.

  “Fine. Come’on, Kid, you’re with me. Y’all,” I gestured to the witches, “work out your piece. Meet me here in two hours. Is that enough time?”

  Their snaps replied, and I trotted toward my office. “Get a move on, Parker; it’s study hour.”

  Chapter 27

  Parker flipped open the teak folding chair and straddled it, arms folded across the chair’s back, eyes on the opened record.

  * * *

  I leaned toward the blank pages and said, “Let’s see what we can discover. Show me the prophecies of Gaia.”

  * * *

  The book pushed a short list to the page.

  * * *

  Kronos will overthrow his father as supreme being.

  Kronos will be overthrown by his offspring.

  * * *

  “Crap. I know these stories. What am I missing?”

  * * *

  Parker snapped his fingers and tilted forward on two chair legs. “May I?”

  * * *

  I nodded, and he stared at the book, swallowed, and asked, “Show me the unrecorded prophecies.”

  * * *

  Unrecorded? If a Keeper puts it in the record, it’s recorded. What the hell.

  * * *

  Vapor script rose, pages of intricately connected symbols. Eyes racing, I deciphered the vertical messages, stumbling over parts of it, shook to my core. Winded, I translated for Parker:

  * * *

  Tartarus, the void, is original despair and within its confines holds the secrets of peace.

  Eros, originator of love, acts as the counterbalance of the void, and the key of peace.

  Gaia, the creator and mother of life, creates the vessel for peace.

  Chaos, the initiation, moves in a flourish of the limitless, the wellspring of peace.

  * * *

  One from time rises and reunites the four.

  At the center, peace waits.

  * * *

  Parker cut his eyes at me. “You’re doing a shit ton more than dealing with a Triune, Boss.”

  * * *

  One reunites four. How in the holy fuck am I supposed to pull that shenanigan together?

  * * *

  Mind racing, my gaze returned to the book.

  * * *

  “Show me how to release Tartarus.”

  * * *

  The page faded, and words rose.

  * * *

  We cannot. The choice is yours.

  * * *

  “Choose what? Dammit.” I jumped up and paced the small office. Sometimes the obliqueness of the book leaves me pissed. This qualified.

  * * *

  Parker tapped my shoulder. “Pick one as the beginning point and draw the remaining three together? I’m guessing that each heals the others.”

  * * *

  “That’s smart, Kid. Parts of a single whole? Let me think.”

  * * *

  Which order? Chaos initiates? Is he first? Or use the vessel to build from and start with Gaia? Eros aligned with me after Gaia’s stunt to pull me from the equation, and the entry says Eros functions as the key. Start there? Or do I resolve the void before the others?

  * * *

  “Parker, how did you guess there were unrecorded entries?”

  * * *

  “Didn’t, I just knew. I’ve got a ton of information jumbled in me I don’t understand, but when a situation presents, options float to the top.”

  * * *

  “That failsafe to impart the book into a new Keeper is huge. With study, you’ll be a different type of Keeper, and that may be the Vapors’ strategy.”

  * * *

  “If you say so. It’s confusing most of the time. My brain aches like I crammed all night for a test but my body chugged two Red Bulls, and now I’m sitting at the desk, shaking. I know stuff, but I don’t, if that makes sense. What are you planning to do next?”

  * * *

  “I told Ballard to trust his gut. Best take the same advice.”

  * * *

  I rose, secured the book, and laid my palm on the door.

  * * *

  “Back to The Boogey, Parker, it’s showtime.”

  Chelsea and Glenna, with bulging waist sacks, slugged the last of their wine.

  * * *

  “Well?” Chelsea’s upbeat tone was a nice counterpoint to her skeptical eyebrows.

  * * *

  “I have to reunite the original four. Easy peasy.”

  * * *

  Glenna snorted. “I had several ideas, but you always surprise me, Keeper. Got a plan?”

  * * *

  “I do. At least, half of one.”

  * * *

  “Half-assed,” Chelsea muttered.

  * * *

  “I heard that.” I shook out my hair and pulled it into a ponytail. “Let’s go see Waldo. I have a question for him. Do either of you have a vial of anti-vertigo for Parker?”

  * * *

  Glenna slipped the vial into his palm, gripped Parker’s arm and snapped.

  * * *

  “Reunite the four; recreate the beginning of time? Anything else? It’s the plot line for ‘Jurassic Park’ but with scarier monsters,” Chelsea held my eyes for a moment. “Are you resolute?”

  * * *

  “Yeah,” I pulled a vertigo potion from my sack and reached for her hand, squeezing hard. “This exploit is my last. Take care of the kid for me, Chels. He’s the future.”

  * * *

  “Screw that,” Chelsea gripped my fingers. “You got us.”

  Side stepping Parker’s puke pile, Chelsea waved the reduction spell, and we clambered over tree roots as she flipped a rock against the little door. Waldo opened it with a beaming smile.

  * * *

  “Come in, my darlings! I wondered if today was the day.”

  * * *

  Even shrunken, we sat crammed, shoulders inches apart, in Waldo’s sitting room.

  * * *

  “Apologies, my dears. Entertaining isn’t my forte.”

  * * *

  “Don’t give it another thought, Waldo. We’re the ones crashing your solitude.” I fished his hair serum from my bag. “Why did you make this? What prompted you to offer it to me?”

  * * *

  “Excellent questions. I’m delighted you made the connection and came to ask,” he replied.

  * * *

  Waldo’s tiny body leaned back in his rocking chair, white beard puddled in his lap. Above him, a mewing cat the size of a teacup peeked around the mantle clock, blinked twice, then disappeared. Parker’s mouth gaped. Glenna reached across and pushed up his jaw.

  * * *

  “Tell me, Keeper, why are you starting here?” Waldo asked.

  * * *

  “You know what I’m attempting?”

  * * *

  “Oh, yes,” his chuckle filled the room. “I’ve been waiting a long time for today.”

  * * *

  I stared at him with narrowed eyes.

  * * *

  Think, Patra. Truths you believed immutable turned into pretense. The Vapors write entries into the record; the lore of the Keeper’s job is bunk. What else falls beyond your preconception of normal? Is Waldo a wizard?

  * * *

  My gaze fixated on Waldo’s beard, fine white strands that covered him from ears to waist. As I stared, a gossamer strand moved in a non-existent
breeze, forming a symbol.

  * * *

  Peace.

  * * *

  “Holy shit!”

  * * *

  “Ah, Keeper. Very good.”

  * * *

  Chelsea’s eyes burned from my face to Waldo’s before returning to mine, barking, “What!”

  * * *

  I swallowed, tasting honey, holding out shaking arms glowing with symbols.

  * * *

  Joy. Hope. Family. Love. Connection. Change. Infinity.