The Medusa Gambit (Veil Knights Book 6)

by Rowan Casey

  But I was going to have to try.

  I picked my lane, narrow as it was, and tested my weight to see if I could get some sort of push. I could sense them readying to strike, their numbers almost complete as the pace of new serpents emerging from the sand slowed.

  Deep breath in, half-a-breath out, and I threw my body forward.

  For a fraction of a second, I was amazed at how powerful my first move was. I was in the air, launched, could feel my body catapulting.

  But then I was bicycling, feet windmilling, and I felt the pressure on my ribcage from where something had me wrapped in its grasp.

  Whatever it was, it was big. Much bigger than the gigantic serpents writhing in the sand around me, the sand that was now falling away as I rose. This was Faye-Wray-being-carried-up-the-Empire-State-Building big. Whatever it was raised me a good twenty feet off the ground and brought me in line with a face. A beautiful face that made me wonder if Satan was a woman and this was she.

  It was Melusina. She was half-serpent herself, now, the tail of her enormous trunk wrapped around my torso. More than half, actually. Her arms disappeared into her sides just below her breasts, and her body extended into the sand long and tubular, with hexagonal patterns etched into her skin. Her eyebrows, fashioned of smooth, golden sand, were farther from her chin than I would bet I could reach with my fingertips, fully extended on my toes.

  “I told you to leave.”

  The voice exploded in my ears like a series of percussion bombs.

  Okay, I thought. I’m not dead yet, and she’s not dangling me over her mouth like a grape. So maybe I still have a chance.

  “I really need that artifact,” I said, looking into a gigantic, golden eye with a serpentine slit for a pupil. “It’s important. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t a matter of life and death. Many, many deaths, if I don’t find it. I came here for your help.”

  “I told you I don’t have anything for you.”

  I winced as the booming words pounded my skull like a drum. “I know you did have it. I think you still do. And I need it, to stop something very bad from happening.”

  “You do not understand. I am a guardian, paid in blood. What I am given to protect and hold I may not relinquish. It is a blood oath, and I am bound to it by the same curse that forces me to crawl the earth for all eternity. That is the lot of the Serpent Queen. I could not help you if I wanted to.”

  My mind was racing. Something she said was tripping little levers in my head. I just needed time to think.

  “What if I were to tell you I was a knight? A knight with a knightly pedigree, on a quest that was pure?”

  Those slits narrowed even as her eyes grew wider. “Yes, I can sense something about you. Something old, as old as me. But it is not a part of you. It is part of something else.”

  I didn’t know what that meant, and I wasn’t sure that this was the best time to request her to explicate. All I knew was, there was something about her that seemed good, her heart, maybe, and playing to that was the only chance I had.

  Or maybe I was just deluding myself.

  “Please,” I said, summoning every ounce of earnestness I could muster. “I didn’t ask for this. Others are depending on me. Innocent others. Maybe millions of them. I need that Key.”

  “You think you can stop the breaching of the Veil? Your kind hasn’t changed in centuries. Always resolute in the belief that you can defeat any threat, if only you had a big enough sword, a stout enough shield. Even if I were to give you the Key, which I cannot, all you would accomplish would be to shred the Veil into tatters, render it into thousands of pieces.”

  “I have to try. If you truly know the heart of those like me, you know I have no choice but to try.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry. Just as I’m so very sorry for what I must do now. Whatever magic you brought has triggered the protocols of my guardianship. I am bound by the blood of he who invoked it.”

  The trunk around my midsection moved and then I was swinging, looping down like a pendulum, head first. The tentacle-like tail loosened its grip and I started to drop toward the waiting jaws of a crowded cluster of serpent heads, jaws snapping up toward me. Just as suddenly, the tail tightened around one of my legs and I was dangling. My hat—that poor, abused fedora—fell into the cluster of jaws and one of them crunched down on it, only to fling its head and spit it out.

  The curse bound her to shed the blood of anyone using magic to try to obtain what she was guarding. That would be me and that blood would be mine. But as pints of that blood were rushing to my head, making my skull feel like it was about to spring a leak, some thought finally clicked into place.

  “Wait!” I yelled as loud and as commandingly as I could. I didn’t pause to see whether it had the desired effect. “You are bound to the one who charged you with protection, right? He invoked the curse, knew you had no choice, am I right? Was it Alonzo? The Manticore?”

  I was still dangling, which beat the alternative.

  “What is your point?”

  “I killed him! I broke your obligation, shattered the seal on your duty, however you want to describe it! He’s dead! Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “It would, if I believed that to be true.”

  “It is! Don’t you have some way of sensing it? Of checking whether your duty is still in force?”

  “It doesn’t work that way. I am not relieved of anything.” She turned me to face her. “But if he was dead, and his death was by your hand, you would step into his place as the rightful master of this guardianship.”

  “It’s true! How can I prove it? I swear, I killed him!”

  “I would need his body. Short of that, his sword or shield or claws. Some intimate emblem of his battle with you.”

  Son of a…I rubbed my face. When I opened my eyes, I saw one of the serpents dislocate its jaws and spread them so wide that if Melusina released her grip I was certain to drop right inside of them. This did not seem like a pleasant way to go. I wondered what parts of me would survive. Would he spit out my shoes? My belt?

  My belt.

  I felt my body twist as she seemed ready to let go.

  “Hold it! I do have proof! Right here!”

  I reached behind me and pulled the Colt from the small of my back. Not too hard to do when your sports coat is hanging down around your shoulders like and upside-down cape.

  “This! This is his weapon! I took it as a trophy! A battle trophy!”

  My body swung as she moved me up and over toward her face. I held the pistol out, presenting the broadside to her so she didn’t take it as a threat.

  “This is the modern equivalent of a nobleman’s sword,” I said, gasping the words out. “It is worth many thousands of dollars. It has his initials engraved on it.”

  She was silent for several seconds, which stretched into thirty or more. She stared at the gun impassively, her expression inscrutable—though I’m not sure if there is such a thing as a ‘scrutable’ expression on a golden face of polished sand the size of the Statue of Liberty’s.

  Without warning, she swung me back to where I had been dangling, and let go. It happened so abruptly, I didn’t have time to make a sound of protest. I just dropped, plummeting some fifteen or twenty feet. I saw those gigantic jaws below me, even wider now, waiting to snap shut. I closed my eyes.

  I landed with a thud. The side of my head seemed to hit first, but my body took the worst of it as it slammed down. The impact knocked the wind out of me and I gasped several times trying to recover. I rolled onto my back. Seconds passed, and my lungs began to fill a little more with each breath.

  “Sir Regis? Sir Regis, are you okay?”

  As much as I wanted to, I didn’t have the wind to say anything witty. All I managed to muster was a raspy groan that started with a “y” and ended with an “s.”

  “Are you sure? I’m outside the house. Do you need assistance?”

  I felt my chest expand to capacity for the first time, sucking in a full br
eath. Then another. Finally, my lungs seemed to have enough air to function.

  “Sir Regis?”

  “I’m fine,” I said. I pushed myself up. My ribs were sore, and those breaths were starting to sting as the initial numbness from the impact began to wear off.

  The house was back to the way it was when I arrived. Old-fashioned, somewhat dusty. Furniture and walls and hardwood floors.

  Very hard wood.

  My hat, poor, battered thing it was, sat misshapen on the floor a few feet away. I got to my feet, took a few wobbly steps and picked it up. Beneath it was a piece of bent, corroded metal. Like an old spike. The kind that might have been used in Rome. The kind that might have been hammered through flesh and bone during a crucifixion.

  “A word to the wise.”

  I turned to see Melusina. She appeared as she had before. Normal. Human. And irritated.

  “Once that unlocks the Contest,” she continued, “It must be seen through until there is a victor.”

  “I don’t understand what that means.”

  “I wouldn’t suspect you would. No one alive has ever witnessed it. And no one who ever witnessed it has lived. Even its creator gave his life for it. Powerful magic requires powerful sacrifice.”

  I knelt and picked up the metal spike. It was heavy. Up close, I could see tiny teeth cut into the bent end.

  “Well, lucky for me, I only need to deliver this, not open whatever it goes to.”

  “That’s what Alonzo thought, that he could obtain the Key, place it in my custody, and be done with it. And you know better than any others where that got him.”

  “You mean, dead? That was because we fought, and I killed him. He wouldn’t be dead if he hadn’t attacked me.”

  “Is that what you believe? That it’s a coincidence?”

  I looked at the object in my hand. Hefted it. “Not a coincidence. Just not a consequence.”

  She looked at me without responding. The silence was disturbing.

  “Wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that everyone who possesses this thing dies?”

  “I’m telling you, once you possess the Key, you must use it to start the Contest. If you do not, you forfeit. Of course, no one has ever survived the Contest, so perhaps it doesn’t matter.

  I wasn’t certain how much of that to believe. Was she trying to scare me off? Keep me from fulfilling my quest? The problem was, she certainly seemed sincere. So sincere, she was almost apathetic.

  Alonzo died because I killed him. I reminded myself of that, almost had myself convinced that’s all it was, then I remembered Professor Kirk. I didn’t want to make three.

  “What if I just, uh, left it here? Let you hold onto it a while longer.”

  She wagged her chin, a gesture that seemed almost sad.

  “It’s too late. It was in your possession the moment you established yourself as having rightful succession.”

  I dropped my lopsided hat on my head as I stared at the twisted metal. Well, isn’t that just friggin’ marvelous.

  “How long?”

  “You have until the second rise of the moon. So you have until tomorrow, nightfall.”

  “Where is it? What does this unlock?”

  “That I can’t tell you.”

  “You mean, I have to find it?” How am I supposed to do that?”

  “I can’t answer that question. I would tell you if I knew.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  “Yes.” She waved her hand, a movement aimed at something behind me. I turned to see Titan, his body back to being anchored through the wall hooks, stretched out, reaching for the door knob. He grabbed it in his mouth, gave it a twist, and pulled the door open. That answered that question.

  “The knight who designed the Contest used the darkest magic. He became its first sacrifice, consecrating it with his life to ensure one thing, one characteristic that many others like you have failed to appreciate.”

  She raised an arm, stepping close and coaxing me to the door. I took a breath, smelled the fresh air, and saw the fading aura of twilight glimmering in the sky and trees.

  “What was that?” I asked, turning back to face her as I stepped outside.

  “That it is a game you cannot win, and that to try is to guarantee your death.”

  With that, she closed the door. The loud clunk of it sounded an awful lot like the universe shutting down any chance of me surviving this ordeal.

  11

  It was dark by the time I got back to Santee Alley. After taking at least a decade off the remaining useful life of the staircase on the way up, Golgameth, hunched over to keep his head below the ceiling, took one look at my digs, proclaimed it to be a strange place for a fortress, and dropped himself onto my couch. He took up two-thirds of the length of it, and I was certain by the way it was sagging I’d never be able to sleep on it again.

  Of course, at the moment, that was the least of my concerns.

  “Why do you wish to wait here, Little Man? Golgameth wants to begin his battle!”

  “Did you not hear a word of what I said the entire drive? We have the Key, but I have no idea what it unlocks.”

  The giant scratched the naked side of his scalp. “Do you believe it is somewhere in this room, little man?”

  “Oh, that’s very funny, Golgameth. Very funny. No, I asked Pip to send for someone. Someone who may have an idea where to look.” Under my breath, I added, “And who’d better have some damn good answers for me.”

  “Who is this ‘Pip’?”

  “The redhead who was in the elevator with me—” I heard the doorknob rattle, a sharp knock as the door opened. “Whup. Never mind.”

  Grimm walked in, hands in the recesses of his long, black leather coat. He looked at me, then shifted his eyes over to Golgameth.

  “Where in the bloody hell did you pick up a giant?”

  Pip appeared from behind him, sliding over to the wall near my desk where I was seated. She looked more than a little upset. I hadn’t told her yet, but I wondered if she pieced together a few things from my demeanor, from the way I was curt with her in demanding an audience with Grimm, or—most likely—from what Grimm told her. I had no doubt he knew, and had known all along.

  “This is Golgameth. Golgameth, this is Dante Grimm.”

  Golgameth grunted and cracked the knuckles on his two paddle-sized hands. It sounded like boards snapping. I got the distinct impression he was imagining that sound to be Grimm’s neck. Maybe it was the sneer.

  “Giants are useless brutes. They can’t be trusted. If you’re thinking of an alliance with him, don’t. He will most likely get you killed, if he doesn’t stab you in the back first.”

  If you wanted to know how Golgameth reacted to that, picture a guy with a face three times the size of a normal person’s turning an apple shade of crimson with anger, baring his teeth, his jaw trembling with building tension, then picture that face after someone just spit on it and squirted tobasco sauce in both eyes. That might come close.

  Golgameth shifted his weight forward, ready to spring and deliver what I’m certain was shaping up to be the kind of blow that would have knocked Grimm’s shadow into the next room, but something fluttered in Grimm’s coat pocket and he removed his hand holding a metal loop with smaller loops attached to it. The large loop had a winding rod twisting its way from one side to the other.

  “Here,” Grimm said. He tossed it to the giant, who fumbled it against his chest before eyeing it carefully and sinking back down into the couch.

  Turning his attention to me, Grimm said, “That will keep him occupied for at least a half-hour.” When I shrugged and turned up my palms, he added, “Giants can’t resist simple puzzles. A five-year old would solve that in three minutes. He won’t hear a word we’re saying. Now, why did you insist I come here?”

  I reached into my coat pocket and retrieved the Key, or spike or Nail of Christ, or whatever it was. I dropped it onto the desk in front of me.

  “Yes,
Pip told me. You know by now it’s a key, and I’m sure you know what it unlocks.”

  “I have no idea what it unlocks, and why the hell didn’t you tell me it was a key I was looking for? You made me think all I needed to do was find it.”

  “I said you needed to find it as soon as possible. I never said that was all you needed to do. If you would have paid attention at the Gathering, you would have remembered that a key wasn’t one of the twelve items. But you were so busy studying all the others, you likely heard only a fraction of what you were told. This key unlocks a container. A trunk or chest. Find the lock, you find the container. Find the container, and you’ll have access to the Contest.”

  I shot a glance at Pip, who looked down at the floor.

  “This is just fucking wonderful.” I jutted my chin. “Does she know?”

  “Yes.”

  She was still staring at the floor. “Did you know all along?”

  She looked up and opened her mouth, but Grimm interjected. “You couldn’t be allowed to know. The unique…properties of the Key have created unintended consequences. The enchantment surrounding it is designed to keep it well-hidden. If you’d have known exactly what you were seeking, it would not have allowed you to find it.”

  “Excuse me, but I think not clueing me in on the fact I’d be as good as marked for certain death twenty-four hours or so after getting my hands on it might be considered among normal people as leaving out a material detail.”

  Grimm took a firm hold of my gaze. “I don’t think you understand the stakes, young Mr. Bishop. Do you think you’re the only person in the world risking his life to keep the Veil from collapsing? You’re not even the only person in this zip code. I’m not asking anything more of you than is being asked of the others.”

  “So, you just make the decision for me? Rob me of even the chance to step up? You’re just like my goddamned father.”

  “Your father was a good man,” Grimm said. “You shouldn’t speak of him that way.”