Chapter 9 Cas
CAS
Icould tell that the doll wanted me gone. She had the subtlety of a red-horned bull. But if she got to nose around my dirty laundry, so to speak, I didn’t see why I’d afford her privacy while she perused hers.
The head of the immortal banking guild took us up several levels in a cylindric tube not unlike the one that took us down to the underside.
My mind supplied that they were called elevators—at least the human version running on electricity was.
These were clearly magical, and I was stumped on an appropriate term.
Silver glared, as though staring at me with that wrinkle between her eyebrows was going to reveal all my thoughts to her. I half wished it would, so I could see her face as she saw me pondering terminology.
The upper level seemed more modern, containing several safes close together. The banker led us to 16TCN3, pressing his palm against a panel on the wall to open it up.
The moment we entered, I stilled at the presence I felt all around it, somehow the antithesis of and complementary to the previous one.
Artemis was dark, mysterious, wild, natural, and a long list of green, mossy things that made me want to breathe in deep.
This felt straightforward, righteous, too bright, and deeply, personally annoying.
Like looking directly at a midday summer sun without glasses.
I cursed under my breath. Apollo.
The room was much smaller than either of the other two vaults we’d visited, and only contained one coffer at the center.
I spotted the note on top of it, tilting my head to read.
Careful, pet.
Silver advanced, but Lucian shook his head. “We ought to scan it for traps.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not trapped.”
“He’s not wrong,” I found myself saying. “Apollo probably has protected it against anyone but you.”
As the words escaped me, I realized that I knew the smug bastard well enough to speak with authority on the matter. My mind flooded with half smiles, the annoying shoulder bumping against mine, a constant laugh.
I saw three men—one blond, with the brightest sky-blue eyes, the second, dark-haired, the third, with a head of fiery red waves. All had hosted the same irritating soul.
I knew Apollo. I also knew Artemis, though she was more elusive in my mind, like a vague acquaintance I never truly understood. And I knew for certain that whatever was in this box would be a considerable peril to anyone who wasn’t a cute pink-haired brat.
“We ought to step back.”
“How courageous,” Silver sneered, approaching the box.
She took the note first, inspecting it closely, like it contained more than two words. I watched her pocket it, before flipping the lid of the wooden chest.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened to form a scream, but before any sound could come out, the creature within pounced, so fast I doubted its prey could even see it.
The giant snake went straight for the banker, jaw wide, fangs the size of a forearm bared. It was so large nothing but magic could have made it fit in the chest—at least twenty feet long, and as thick as Silver. She might be a fun-size person, but for an actual snake, that width was no joke.
My mind seemed to slow down as I watched both Lucian and Kleos move into action, the first gathering dark lethal energy all around him, the second, summoning a javelin of light, her stance moving to the perfect position to throw it right between the snake’s eyes.
The poor thing wouldn’t stand a chance against either.
I learned two other things about myself just then.
Firstly, I rather liked snakes, even scary, murderous ones. I didn’t want it to die for simply doing his job. Apollo had placed him here as a guard for whatever he’d locked for his sister, and he was doing what he was told like a good hell serpent.
And secondly, I could apparently counter two immortals in less than the microsecond it took for such a fast beast to launch itself at a poor banker.
The javelin, I deflected, Lucian, I blocked, before grasping the open-mouthed snake right behind the eyes, holding him tight enough to issue a warning.
“Forget your commands,” I demanded, my voice lower and deeper than it had been until now.
I could feel the ground shake under my feet as those words escaped me. Not in English; in the old tongue that had first come to me when I woke up yesterday.
The snake’s beady black eyes shone blue, reflecting mine.
“That’s it. Aren’t you a good little nope rope?”
“Little?” Kleos croaked.
I let go of my hold progressively, to check on the beast’s intent. He remained right here, at eye level, contentedly slithering.
The banker muttered something about livestock, sticking to the wall in order to put as much distance as possible between him and the reptile, but we all ignored him in order to watch Silver, who seemed positively fascinated by the contents of the box.
“I’m going to kill him,” she announced, matter-of-fact, while we joined her.
Inside, there were two items, equally confusing. A white quiver with intricate gold veining, full of shining arrows. The second was a small bronze statue of a sleeping pup.
Her hands went for the statue first, and the moment her fingertips touched the metal, it glimmered, all shine and yellow tint fading away. By the time she pulled it out, it was a live pup, and snow white. The puppy immediately proceeded to lick her face, tail wagging.
“He left you alone with a bloody snake for a week?” Silver cooed, baby-talking to the pup. “We’re going to shove one of these arrows up his bum the next time we see him, aren’t we?”
The pup barked its agreement.
“A dog,” Lucian said with a slight sneer. “Your divine brother goes through the trouble of setting up a bank account for you and leaves you a dog.”
Kleos chuckled. “Dogs have always loved Silver. They sniff her out for miles and jump at her. It can be scary.”
“That’s not a dog,” I felt obliged to point out.
Silver glared up at me—her default expression as soon as her eyes found mine. Currently it was infused with an extra degree of animosity.
“It’s a hellhound, from the line of Orthrus, not Cerberus. A two-headed dog, son of Echidna and Typhon, too. Hercules killed him, I believe—but not before he had a fair few hundred children. I thought they were all killed.”
“Killed?” Silver protectively wrapped her hands around the pup tighter.
I shrugged, putting my hands in my pockets, to emphasis on the fact that I didn’t feel like jumping on her puppy. “To be fair, he did father the Sphynx and a Nemean Lion. A bunch of monsters who were rather murderous.”
Kleos and Lucian stared at the puppy like they expected it to morph into a scorpion on the spot, or at the very least, sprout a second head.
“Why would Apollo give her that?” the redhead asked her husband.
I replied when he couldn’t. “To be fair, the prick is the god of prophecy. Presumably, I’d say he knows something we don’t.”
Something that showed him his sister would need a monster by her side.
A very cute monster.
“It’s just a puppy,” Silver stated, putting it down to the floor with one last head pat, before taking the quiver. “I know why he left me these. Normal arrows snapped when I tried to use them with the bow he gave me.” She hesitated, but ended up leaving the quiver in the box.
“They could be handy,” Lucian stated.
She shook her head. “They could also turn me into his sister and erase who I am.”
Those words hit like a punch, triggering the most powerful series of visions yet.
A child, dark haired like me. A woman. Mother and brother, I knew.
And then a scream so desperate and filled with rage the world hadn’t heard it since Achilles bellowed on the sands of Troy.
My scream.
I didn’t even feel myself fall. I was completely elsewhere.