by Jamie Wyman
Chapter Fifteen
“Walkabout”
The sun dipped behind Treasure Island, casting the lagoon and its ships in cool shadow as I left the hotel, Marius on my heels. Crowds gathered on the street, waiting for the staged battle between tempting sirens and swarthy pirates. Up and down the Strip, people traipsed the sidewalks. It smelled of chlorine and a million bodies. Colognes and perfumes, sweat, hotel shampoo, and beer all mingled in a cloud over the foot traffic.
As I joined the river of humanity coasting down Las Vegas Boulevard, Marius grabbed my hand. I jumped. “Hey, what’s this about?”
“Just trying to blend in with the crowd. Are you aware that there are some people who come here not on missions from gods but to actually enjoy themselves?”
“The hell you say,” I said, deadpan.
“It’s true. You might want to give it a go sometime.”
We didn’t talk for a bit then. Marius’s hand around mine was a solid comfort—I wasn’t alone. I let my thumb glide over the softness of his. It had been so long since I’d walked hand-in-hand with someone. So long since I’d just touched somebody else. And here, in the span of a day I’d danced with Marius, planted a kiss on him, and now this.
Thinking about it made my chest ache with a familiar, bitter loneliness.
Distracting myself from my thoughts and woes, I listened to the sounds of the Strip. Applause cut through the cacophony, and a small pocket of tourists snapped pictures of a street performer. The man wore luminous white clothes and make-up. Standing perfectly still, he imitated a statue as people cast coins into his hat. At some unseen signal, he slowly shifted into another pose.
“That takes discipline,” I said.
Marius let out an annoyed breath. “I hate those people. Creepy buggers the lot of them if you ask me. They’re worse than mimes.”
“Why?”
“Never trust something that refuses to speak,” Marius said, his voice dark.
“I take it you’re not a fan of Blue Man Group.”
“Don’t get me started.”
His grip tightened on my hand, and I found myself squeezing back. My stomach flopped at all the stupid things that could mean. Liking Marius, agreeing to go on a date with him was one thing. Falling for his charms and breaking my hard-and-fast rule to not date another non-human? That was something else. Still…I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed the feeling of Marius’s hand clasped around mine.
“So where are we headed?” I asked.
“I have a line on where to find Puck,” Marius answered. He tugged at my hand and bobbed his head toward the Forum Shops, the mall at Caesars Palace. “I’ve got a contact who says he can point us in the right direction. We’re meeting him here.”
The Forum Shops presented a monument to the gods of Commerce and Ostentatious Decorating. Circular with high, golden ceilings and column-lined walls, the building evoked classic Greco-Roman architecture. Flanked by two enormous caryatids—columns carved into the shapes of women—the famous spiral escalators formed a moving double helix reaching up into the vastness of the space. Shoppers worshipped at any number of altars here to the high priests of Gucci, Fendi, and Christian Dior.
The real attention grabber in this joint was the fountain. Not quite as big as the one over at the Bellagio, the Forum’s display was made in the gods’ images. At the center sat Caesar on his throne, raising a cup to his lips. At the cardinal points around him, four other characters—two women and two men—paid homage to the emperor. Every half hour or so, the statues came to life as part of a watery spectacle.
As Marius and I walked around the perimeter of the Forum, new sounds accosted me. Over and under the constant susurration of water came the chatter of a million voices bouncing from floor to ceiling and back again. More than that, though, I could hear the whirring of the cash registers, the throb of the nightclub’s speakers, and the gears spinning beneath the fountain’s quintet. The ether teemed with signals clicking to and from cell phones. Being a technomage apparently had its downsides.
“Well,” I said, standing on my toes to be closer to Marius’s ear. “Any bright ideas?”
“He said he would be here,” Marius muttered to himself.
“Who?”
“It’s better if you don’t know his name.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fantastic.”
We walked around the ring of shops on the first floor, passing the fountain’s version of Bacchus.
“Looks nothing like him,” Marius said with a sour grimace.
“Come on,” I said tugging at his hand. “Let’s look on the other side.”
He gave a slight salute to the Roman god of revelry, and followed along. Sure, I was trying to guide him closer to the chocolate shop, but he didn’t have to know that. We spent a half hour or so riding the escalators, meandering around the mall, but Marius’s mystery man never appeared.
Back on the ground level, Marius came to a halt at the base of the fountain. I stepped in front of him and turned in a circle to take one last look around.
“Anything?” I asked.
“Dirty, lazy bastard,” Marius said, jabbing at his phone and swiping through screens. “If he blows me off…”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a hint of movement within the fountain. The taller of the two female statues tilted her head and reached out a hand. At first, I thought the show was starting, but as the figure pulled up her skirt and placed a sandaled foot into the water, I knew this was no performance.
Next, Caesar rose from his throne and threw his cup to the side. Tourists began clapping and snapping pictures or taking video with their phones. The female statue waded through the fountain toward us, her hands out before her like a marble zombie. I grabbed Marius by the lapels and pulled him away from the fountain.
“When the mood takes you, you don’t kid around, do you?” he said, oblivious.
“Shut up,” I said. “Look!”
I turned his jaw to the side, forcing him to share the horror of what I saw. Caesar and his mistress ambled slowly, their carved features twisting with anger, sightless eyes pinned on us.
“This,” he said, “is precisely why I hate those blasted street performers.”
My brand began to sting as if I’d rubbed poison ivy over my skin. With that extra sense I developed from my time spent as Eris’s puppet, I knew I’d found the Fae. Or—more accurately—they’d found us.
“Fae,” I said.
Marius sneered at me over his shoulder. “You think?”
Caesar drew closer and more tourists gathered around for the “show.” Smaller statues stepped off their plinths and lumbered to block the main doors.
“Well? Here they are,” Marius said, inching back into the crowd. “Do your thing.”
I shot him a panicked look. “What thing?”
“I thought you had some plan!”
“Me? I’m not a planner! You were the one with a reason to be here!”
“That was before statues started coming to life.”
Shit. Okay, Cat. Think. This could get messy very quickly in such a public place.
I didn’t want to have to fight statues or Fae, so I swallowed hard and composed myself. Perhaps diplomacy would work here.
“I need to see Puck,” I said to the stone lady.
As she hitched a leg up over the lip of the fountain, water sluiced over her and pooled on the marble floor. Instantly her eyes began to glow with icy malice. “Warned you,” the statue said, her words gravelly and hoarse. “Should have listened.”
Her pale arm arced through the air toward my head. I ducked out of the way and heard screams from the onlookers. When I glanced up, I saw why. Marius, his blade naked and horns protruding in nubs from his forehead, had engaged the Caesar.
So much for diplomacy.
The shrieks of the bystanders spread like a flame, twisting up the spiral escalators and into the stores. As if someone had dropped a stone into the pond of humanity, the crowds rippled outward,
away from the fountain and its animated warriors.
Still, some people thought this was all part of the show—maybe a flash mob or an artistic performance. They gathered in closer, phones and cameras out to capture it all. Others, though, noticed that the exits were blocked by all the living art and began a mad dash for the escalators.
They’re going to get themselves killed.
Fumbling in my pocket, I pulled out one of Flynn’s inventions; a small, black cylinder no larger than a tube of lipstick. I pressed the orange button on the end and the thing expanded into a thin plastic rod about eight inches long. My instincts screamed, and I ducked just as the female statue lunged at me. She took a swipe, and I dodged the grip of her cold fingers. While Marius held his own against the emperor, I huddled into a crouch and moved around the back of the fountain.
A high-pitched whine came from the stick in my hand. A tiny display on its slick surface slowly filled with tiny green bars, indicating that it was charging.
It wasn’t ready yet. I needed to buy some time.
How the hell do you distract a statue?
More screams echoed from above, these tinged with absolute terror. Dust rained down and masonry began to crumble as one of the large caryatids unshouldered her burden and stepped out of the wall. The floor beside me split as a pair of titanic feet landed a few yards away. The caryatid lifted her head and locked her eyes on me. Like the other statues, her eyes glowed ephemerally blue.
“Fuck,” I shouted.
This was not going as I’d hoped. I wanted to find the Fae and get to Puck. I wanted the chip. I did not, however, feel like being pummeled by a giant figurine.
From the other direction, the fountain goddess came barreling at me, those well-sculpted arms stretched out before her. I decided a hug from her would be a bad idea, so once again, I dodged. But this time, her hand got around the shoulder strap of my pack. Once she closed her fingers around it, she wouldn’t let go. The statue yanked me backward and held me up like a prize fish on a hook. I squirmed there, feet flailing above the ground as the caryatid took ponderous steps toward us, her hands preparing to scoop me up.
Throwing my arms in the air, I slipped out of my backpack and fell to the floor, rolling to the side. As my knee protested, I gave a pained yelp.
Tough shit, I thought. Pain is temporary. Death, I added, is permanent.
Fueled with adrenaline, I ran away from the fountain and toward the escalators. As my arms pumped, I chanced a glance at my ace in the hole. It gained more than half its charge, but still, the electro-magnetic pulse wasn’t ready.
Behind me, I heard a monstrous screech. Whirling around, I saw Marius’s god-forged blade strike the head of the Caesar. The blue light in its eyes began to flicker and turn into a thick smoke as the statue wailed with pain.
Steel. The Fae are allergic to metal!
I broke off at a run, once more aiming for those spiral escalators. The first one I came to was, of course, going down. Fuck it all—I had to get upstairs for my idea to work. I pushed through the people cowering on the escalator, swimming upstream as fast as I could while shouting to people to throw anything metal they could find at the figures.
I reached the next floor and kept running all the way to the top level. People flocked into shops like rats fleeing a sinking ship. Store clerks closed their doors, all the while pressing against the glass windows to watch the horror outside. Below, the Caesar became rigid and motionless, rooted to the ground outside his fountain. More blue steam erupted from his maiden as Marius speared her through the forehead. I took a moment to appreciate Hephaestus’s handiwork: that was one kick-ass sword.
“Marius!” I called. “Get up here!”
He found me with his eyes then gave a roll of his shoulders. He followed my path up the escalator, long legs taking two steps at a time. As I checked the charge of my toy, it shot from ninety-nine percent to full.
“Yes!” I hissed.
On the lowest level, the massive caryatid turned in a circle and trained her eyes on me, there at the center of the forum.
“Sister,” she said, her voice horribly low and unnatural.
The masonry cracked above me as stone tore from stone. The other caryatid came to life one massive inch at a time.
By then, Marius was at my side. “I really fucking hate caryatids!” Just as they did when he fought off Maui’s kupua, Marius’s eyes took on a greener hue, dazzlingly bright. He stretched out a hand, palm down, fingers splayed like claws, and with a wrenching motion, he flung his hand up and water shot up from the fountain below. The mighty plume stretched to the ceiling and showered the caryatid on the ground. With his other hand, he punched at the air and called out a word of power. The colossal woman burst apart, her remains raining down to the floor in glittering motes of powder. For an instant, I saw the hovering image of the blue eyes before that too was carried off by Marius’s spell.
Behind me, though, her sister gained momentum.
No time.
Holding the stick out in front of me, I looked Marius in the eye. “Grab on.”
“Why? What is it?”
“Trust me!”
The satyr shot out his hand and gripped the device. As the statue behind us swept an enormous hand toward our backs, I thumbed the button. With the smell of ozone and a bass thrum of power, an orange wave of light rippled out in a ring, spreading over every last living thing in the Forum. In an instant, every man, woman, and child lit up like a Christmas tree. Whole nervous systems gleamed, spidery filaments dangling from luminous brains. Bodies collapsed to the floors in immobile heaps.
Marius and I were rocked forward by the impact of the caryatid. He held his ground, but I went tumbling over the railing, a terrified yell catching in my throat as the wind was knocked out of me.
“Catherine!” he yelled.
My tiny boom stick fell from my fingers and crashed to the wet floor in an explosion of plastic and circuits.
With a painful snap of my shoulder, I jerked to a stop. Shooting a surprised look upward, I saw Marius’s face contorted with exertion. His hand locked around mine with incredible strength. Hanging there, thrilled to be alive, I realized I was dangling nearly thirty feet in the air with little more than the satyr’s goodwill keeping me from plunging into the now-empty fountain. It reminded me of the last time someone had me dangling high above terra firma. The night I’d met Eris. I’d ended up learning I had a soul, and nearly dying out of stubbornness. I sincerely hoped this time would be less painful.
I watched over Marius’s shoulder as the Faery enchantment over the caryatid failed. Sapped of the magic giving it life, the statue froze in place, stooped over and poised to grab Marius.
I swung my free hand around to grip his wrist. “A little help here!”
The satyr took my arms and heaved me up as if I weighed little more than a sack of groceries. I got a leg over the railing and shimmied across, crashing to the floor ungracefully. Marius stumbled and slid onto his ass. He came to a stop with his back against the statue’s open hand. As the power ebbed from his eyes, his horns retreated beneath his glamour.
“You,” he said breathlessly, “are going to wear that thong.”
At the moment, I didn’t care what parts of my body hurt. I didn’t care if I was panting, sweating, and terrified. I didn’t even care that I was covered in the dust of the destroyed caryatid. I simply reveled that I was not a broken pile of Cat on the floor of the Forum Shops.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’ll wear the thong.”
As I stood, my legs wobbled coltishly but held my weight. I straightened up and looked around the Forum. In the shop windows, people had fallen in masses like cordwood. Still, others sprawled on the floor. There were even arms and torsos draped over the sides of the twining escalators.
Walking down the stairs and dodging bodies, Marius asked, “Am I wrong, or did you just kill everyone in the building?”
“They’re not dead, just rebooting.”
He th
ought about it for a minute then said, “You’re going to have to explain that one to me, I’m afraid.”
“The plastic rod I had you grab onto? It’s one of Flynn’s inventions. Are you familiar with the concept of an EMP?”
He nodded, kicking at the Caesar’s shins as we passed him on the ground floor. “Electromagnetic pulse,” he said. “Burst of energy that takes out any electrical current nearby, yes?”
“That’s the idea. Well, the body has its own electrical current constantly running through it, too, but an EMP won’t target that kind of power.” With my toe, I kicked one of the pieces of my shattered weapon. “In short, this one does. It causes a split-second hiccup in the body’s current and triggers sleep in anyone within a few hundred feet.”
“Clever,” he said. “But why didn’t it work on us?”
“Direct contact with the device shields you from its effects. Since we were both touching it when it went off, it masked our signals.”
He bobbed his head toward the caryatid. “And the statues?”
“They were being controlled by Fae. Fae, while not human, still have bodies that run on electrical stimulus. So, when they went down to the pulse, so did their spells. What about you? What was the thing you did with the water?”
“Old World trick,” he said. “Some magic can be undone with running water.”
“And pulverizing it?”
He bobbed his head from side to side. “Letting go of some repressed anger?”
I reached into the fist of the fountain goddess and pulled out the nylon strap to my backpack. After a quick check of my pockets to make sure my stun gun hadn’t fallen out, I hitched up my bag.
“So,” I said, “do you want to stay here and wait for the faeries to come get us?”
Warily, he eyed the statues. “Will they come back to life?”
“I don’t know. Possibly.”
“Then, with all due respect, I’d like to get the fuck out of here. I told you I hate statues, especially the ones that move.”
“Why?” I asked as we made our way to the door.
“Remember how I said I got caught with one of Zeus’s favorites?”
