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Fortune's Favors

Page 5

by Marlene Perez


  I couldn’t let my cousin kill her sister. If it had to be done, I would be the one to do it. I leaned back against my chair and closed my eyes, suddenly weary. It was a near-impossible task.

  “Don’t get too comfortable, son of Fortuna,” Morta said. “We have work to do.”

  “Hecate has won,” Nona said. “We can’t defeat her, not without three Fates.”

  “Then get Claire up to speed,” I said. “You concentrate on that and I’ll concentrate on getting Hecate back into the underworld.”

  “Not the underworld,” Morta said. “This time we must discover a more permanent solution.”

  “You mean kill her?”

  She snorted. “Killing a goddess is not an easy task, Nyx. I don’t mean killing her. I mean immobilizing her for a few thousand years or so.”

  “Say I find a way to immobilize her,” I said. “Where would we keep her?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” she said. “You find a way to trap her and we will take care of the rest. Agreed?”

  I didn’t really care what they did with Hecate, as long as she was out of the way.

  She looked from her sister to me and back again. “I have been wrong about many things,” she said. “But I was not wrong about you. You are my sister’s son.”

  “Then help me,” I said. “We’ll defeat her together. Or at least tell me how you contained her last time. It was the three tasks, wasn’t it?”

  “There were three items necessary to hold Hecate in the underworld,” Morta said. “But we scattered them into the wind. We each took one of the items. D-Deci…” She stopped for a moment to regain her composure. “Deci was in charge of Hecate’s Eye.”

  “Which is why Wren knew exactly where to find it,” I said. “I had it in my hand and let it slip away.” I’d handed it over to save Willow.

  They ignored my dig at Deci. My aunts didn’t want to admit Deci had been in league with Hecate.

  “Find them and you will be able to trap her again,” Claire said.

  “She already has the bead,” I admitted. “I traded the harpies for Claire, but I think it’s the harpy’s silver feather she really wanted.” My cousin had been trapped in the underworld with Hecate, and I had freed her.

  “We already know that,” Morta said. “But the harpies will not help Hecate as much as she thinks.”

  “Why did you give her the bead?” Rebecca asked.

  “I gave it to her in exchange for Willow, but Hecate screwed me over.” They didn’t have to say it aloud. I knew what an arrogant idiot I’d been.

  “How’d that work out for you?” Rebecca asked sarcastically.

  “If she gets the third item, there will be no stopping her,” Nona said.

  “What exactly is the third item?”

  “Medusa’s mirror,” Nona said. “There’s no way she will get her hands on it.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Please don’t be offended, Nyx, but perhaps it is better you don’t know,” Morta said.

  She had a point.

  “We can’t kill Hecate, anyway,” I said. “At least not while she’s still walking around in Willow’s body.”

  “Why not?” Rebecca asked.

  I glared at her. “If anyone at this table touches Willow, I will hunt you down and make you suffer.”

  “Jeez, touchy,” Rebecca said.

  “I like Willow, although Nyx usually has terrible taste in women,” Naomi said.

  Claire gave a snort of laughter. “So true.” Her blond hair shone in the dim light.

  “I wasn’t the one getting all chummy with Hecate in the underworld,” I snarled.

  “I agree. Willow’s off-limits,” Naomi continued, as if we hadn’t interrupted her.

  I gave her a grateful look, but she ignored me.

  “Hecate has Hecate’s Eye, but I don’t know how she intends to use it,” I said.

  “Get it back,” Morta said.

  “I’ll try,” I said, “but the Houses are getting nervous. They might decide to align with Hecate.”

  “I doubt they fear her more than they fear us,” Morta said.

  “Maybe,” I said. “But you have to admit the Fates are at their weakest right now.”

  Morta glared at me, but I glared back.

  “We are temporarily hampered,” Nona admitted. “But Rebecca’s home and Claire has taken over as Custos. We’ll be back to full strength soon.”

  “In the meantime, it might not hurt to make a few overtures,” I said.

  “Anything else?” Nona said. “You should rest.”

  “No time for that,” I said. “I’ll start talking to the Houses as soon as I can.”

  Our little family meeting broke up not long after. Rebecca looked like she wanted to kick me in the balls as a good-bye, but instead, she whispered something to Claire, who laughed.

  Naomi didn’t even bother to look at me before she left. Instead, she made a beeline for the door, ignoring everybody else.

  I was weary, not just because I was now mortal, residing in a two-hundred-and-twenty-year-old body. Sometimes, the sheer enormity of what I had to do would overwhelm me. Then I’d want to give up, but I knew I couldn’t. Knew I wouldn’t. I had to succeed.

  Chapter Nine

  After my meeting with the Fates, I updated Talbot and his dad.

  “Any word from Doc?” I asked.

  “He’ll turn up,” Ambrose assured me.

  “Hecate’s tough, too,” I said. “I hope nothing has happened to him.”

  “It’s going to be a back-alley dog fight,” Ambrose said. “She won’t fight fair, but Doc can take care of himself.”

  “My aunts seem to think they have an ace in the hole,” I told him. “Something Hecate needs to return to full power.”

  “Interesting,” Talbot said. “I don’t suppose they told you what it was.”

  I gave him an expressive look. “My aunts aren’t in a sharing mood right now.” I’d screwed up Talbot’s relationship with Naomi already, but I wasn’t going to do any further damage.

  “Are they ever?” Talbot asked. “How was Naomi?”

  “Icy,” I replied. “But I can’t really blame her.”

  He tried not to look as lovesick as he sounded. “Did she ask about me?”

  I shook my head.

  “What about the other Houses?” I asked.

  Ambrose shook his head. “It’s not looking good,” he said. “They think we’re doomed to failure.”

  I appreciated his use of “we.” “You mean they think I’m doomed.”

  “It’s possible we can turn the tide of opinion,” he said. “We just need the right ally.”

  “Can you get me a meeting with someone from the House of Zeus? Maybe even the head of the House of Zeus?”

  “Maybe,” Ambrose said. “Luke Seren doesn’t like to mingle with the other Houses.”

  That didn’t sound promising.

  A few days later, Ambrose handed me a folded slip of paper. “Meet here at four p.m.”

  “I’m meeting the head of the House of Zeus at the library?”

  “He starts on time,” he warned. “So don’t be late. Nyx, do you know how to do the polka?”

  “No, why?”

  “You might want to learn.”

  * * *

  When I got there, the library parking lot was nearly full.

  I took Ambrose’s comment as a hint and followed the sound of the music into the library branch community room.

  Dancers twirled in cheerful red, black, and white Scandinavian costumes. There were a few rebels in blue.

  The group was mostly senior citizens. They were learning traditional folk dances along with the polka.

  At the front, an attractive man dressed all in black led the group through their paces. He shouted encouragement, beamed at his star pupils, and stopped occasionally to show the slow learners hiding in the back the correct way to do the step.

  A row of fold-up chairs were lined up against one wall. I to
ok a seat and watched the dancers. Which one was Luke?

  An elderly man in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt sat in the chair next to me. His prosthetic leg clanged against the metal chair, but it barely made a sound over the blaring music.

  The song ended and the man in black called for a five-minute break. The dancers crowded around him like he was the geriatric answer to Justin Bieber.

  I waited, but no one approached me.

  I turned to the guy next to me.

  “Luke?”

  He snorted. “You want Casanova over there.” He pointed to the instructor, who had his arms wrapped around an attractive older woman with soft white hair and eyes the color of lupines.

  My companion glared at them.

  “That your wife?” I asked.

  “My girlfriend,” he said. He tapped on his prosthetic leg. “Least she was until this happened.”

  “There more important things than dancing,” I said.

  “Tell that to Ginger and Fred,” he replied. I didn’t tell him that I’d seen Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire dance once when I was an extra on a movie set back in the thirties.

  When I chuckled, he held out his hand. “Fitch.”

  “Nyx,” I said in reply.

  “The son of Fortuna? It’s an honor.”

  I looked at him incredulously. “Not many people say that, at least not these days. I had you pegged as a mortal.”

  “I’m a minor god,” he confessed. “And my specialty isn’t one especially revered today.”

  “Which is?”

  “I’m the god of moderation.”

  “No wonder I’ve never heard of you,” I said.

  “Not that kind of moderation,” he corrected gently. “Although a little moderation would not hurt you a bit. I moderate when things get sticky among the gods.”

  “So you’re like Switzerland?”

  He nodded. “My job is to see if you and Hecate and come to an agreement. I’ll act as an intermediate.”

  “Is that why I’m here?” I asked. “You can tell Hecate to go fuck herself.”

  “Not a very peaceful message,” he said. “But it’s a start.”

  “I thought I was supposed to talk to Luke.”

  “Luke is more of an interested party,” Fitch said. “I’m neutral. I talk to both sides and try to get them to reach an understanding.”

  I stared at him. “You’re going to try to talk to Hecate? She’s on a rampage.”

  He nodded.

  “She’ll kill you.”

  His affable expression vanished, replaced by something cold and deadly. For the first time, I sensed the magic simmering below his benign surface. “She can try.”

  “I don’t think there’s any point in trying to mediate,” I told him. “Either she dies or I do.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know that Hecate has sent word to the Houses that there will be no more killing?” he asked.

  “On one condition, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Care to share what that condition is?”

  “She won’t kill any more members of the Houses if they turn you in,” he said.

  “And they’re considering it?”

  He nodded.

  “What are my odds?”

  “Right now, about fifty–fifty,” he said. “They’re as scared of your aunts as they are of Hecate.”

  That was something. I’d never thought my aunts’ evil reputation would save my ass.

  The music started again and we watched in silence.

  The lesson stopped, and the dancers burst into applause.

  “Any advice how to get Mr. Seren on my side?”

  “Are you sure you want him there?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Some god of light he is,” Fitch replied. “Seren makes a good ally and a bad enemy. Trouble is you can’t always tell which is which.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning watch your back. How do you think I ended up missing a leg?” Fitch struggled to his feet and made his way over to his girlfriend.

  Luke Seren spent several minutes surrounded by his polka groupies before he wandered over to where I sat, like he had all the time in the world. Maybe he did.

  I assumed I was being tested and waited patiently for the head of the House of Zeus to acknowledge me. I’d bet money he saw me the minute I came in, but Seren liked to play games.

  He shook off his admirers and strode toward me.

  “Nyx Fortuna,” he said. “Did you enjoy the dancing?”

  “Very much.” Up close, Luke Seren looked older than I’d first thought, around sixty, swarthy, and theatrical. His cheeks were artificially rosy, his dark eyes enhanced by black eyeliner, and he’d last seen his natural hair color several decades ago. He had a moustache a walrus would envy.

  When he held out his hand, I noticed he was missing the ring finger on his right hand. He caught me staring. “You met Fitch?”

  I nodded.

  “And he probably told you that I was responsible for the loss of his leg?”

  I nodded again.

  He wiggled fingers of his right hand. “He owes me a finger.”

  I felt like I’d been hauled in front of the principal for setting off a stink bomb in the john. I’d been enrolled in a public high school for exactly three weeks back in the fifties and had been sent to the principal’s office several times. Rebelling had been my way of fitting in. It had ended when the Tracker had found me. I shut the memory away tight.

  “At last I meet the one who well and truly set the cat among the pigeons,” he said.

  “Yes,” I said. “And now I’m trying to fix it.”

  “And what does that have to do with me?”

  “She already slaughtered dozens of your people,” I said.

  “I have no proof that Hecate was responsible.”

  “She’s just warming up. The way I see it, she’ll come after every House.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. But tell me, if there is a war, why should I stand with you instead of Hecate?”

  “You’re scared,” I said.

  “Anyone in their right mind would be,” he said. “She has it in for the House of Fates.”

  “You should join us because she’s evil,” I said.

  I’d been saying the same thing over and over, but from his expression, I wasn’t convincing him. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “And you should think about this. You let her out. How are you going to get her back?”

  It was a good question. “I will stop Hecate or die trying,” I said.

  He nodded. “That much I believe.”

  Chapter Ten

  It was after midnight and I sat in my bedroom, going over Sawyer’s necromancy books. Sawyer had been a necromancer married to a Fate, but I’d liked him. And Nona was the least objectionable of my aunts.

  Naomi’s dad had been a nice guy, despite belonging to the House of Hades. He’d also fathered a daughter, Wren, with Hecate, the Fates’ worst enemy.

  I was sober, mostly. I needed my wits about me to understand what I was reading. Naomi had given them to me after he died. I’d made my way halfway through the stack and was on a chapter dealing with possession. The gruesome details weren’t helping me fall asleep. I kept picturing Willow suffering as Hecate gradually took over her body until there was no room left for anyone else.

  There was a brief mention of a necromancer using an elixir to reverse a possession, but the book didn’t yield any other clues.

  I turned the page and a photograph fell out. Sawyer, Nona, and a much younger Naomi beamed up at me. From the birthday candles on the cake in front of her, Naomi must have been about seven.

  “I love that photo,” Sawyer said. “What I wouldn’t give to go back to that time.”

  I’d gotten used to him sneaking up on me. Almost. “I’m going to hang a bell on you,” I said. “How long have you been here?”

  “Not
long,” he said. “But there are lots of new souls milling about in Asphodel. What happened?” Asphodel was the part of the underworld where ghosts congregated. Asphodel flowers took their name from the place they grew. Even Hecate avoided that part of the realm.

  “Your ex happened.” Hecate was on a killing spree and I wasn’t sure how to stop her.

  “Hmm.”

  “That’s it? Your wife and daughter are next on the list and all you can say is ‘hmm’?”

  “I’m not the one you’re really mad at.”

  “I’m mad at everyone,” I replied. It was true, but mostly, I was mad at myself.

  “Anger isn’t going to get you anywhere,” he said. “Get your keys. I want to show you something.”

  I did as he asked, but was still half-asleep when I started the Caddy. Sawyer’s voice provided directions and a running commentary as we headed a few miles outside of Minneapolis.

  “We’re heading back to the wildlife preserve?” I asked.

  “Shut up and drive,” he said. “It’s not exactly easy to stay in the world. I need to concentrate.”

  I pulled up in front of the same conference room where Hecate killed the members from the House of Zeus.

  Instead of heading to the conference center, Sawyer directed me elsewhere. “Take that hiking trail and follow it.”

  Stumbling around in the dark didn’t seem like a plan. “Illuminate,” I said. A sparkling silver light lit the path. After walking a long time, I heard the sound of running water and a waterfall came into view.

  I inhaled. “Someone should have written a poem about this place.”

  Sawyer’s voice was amused. “Someone did.”

  “Why are we here?” I said, looking around.

  “You said you wanted to defeat Hecate,” Sawyer said. “This is where Wren was born.”

  “She wasn’t born in the underworld?”

  “The Fates hadn’t defeated Hecate when Wren was born. Hecate roamed free, tormenting the mortals as she saw fit.”

  “You think that’s why she slaughtered the naiads and satyrs here?”

  “No,” he said grimly. “I think she slaughtered them because the House of Zeus refused to help her when she was in labor. Wren almost died before she was even born.”

  Hecate was an evil crone, but Wren had been an innocent baby. What was that old saying? Know your enemies? But guilt seemed to be Sawyer’s motivation.

 

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