Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
The stranger flicks her dry paintbrush at me.
“Yup. Chicago. Thought so. For some reason everyone they pluck is from Chicago. It’s like it’s easy hunting grounds there, or maybe their spiderwebs are just clearer there.
Who the fuck knows, am I right?” She dabs her brush into a blob of paint atop the cart and makes a large swipe across the canvas.
“Hmm. The lighting in here sucks balls. I guess that’s on me. ”
I don’t know whether to laugh at her consternation or scream in frustration. I decide to aim for answers instead. “You’re the one that kidnapped me? Where’s Kalos? How did you know I’m from Chicago? What’s going on?”
“Because I’m from Chicago, too. And Faith was. And Carly. I’m not sure about Max.” She swipes another stroke across her painting and tilts her head, regarding her work. “Are we feeling this brown?”
“Who are Max and Carly?”
Margo glances over at me again. “The other Anchors. I guess you haven’t met anyone?” When I shake my head, she shrugs and turns back to her painting. “I guess it makes it easier for us in the long run if you guys are flying solo. I’m Seth’s Anchor, FYI.”
I’ve heard a few other names of gods since I got here—Gental, obviously. Rhagos, Kalos’s estranged brother. Belara. The name Seth doesn’t ring a bell. “I don’t know who that is.”
“No, you probably wouldn’t. He’s an immigrant, so to speak.
He snuck over from our world. I keep trying to get a straight answer out of him but near as I can tell, he’s either the Egyptian god Set, or the Norse god Loki, or some amalgamation of the two.
I can’t get a mythology book and cross check, so I’m trying to pick up on context clues from our conversations.
But Seth is kind of a butthole so he’s tricky to read.
” She continues painting, coloring in her big brown blob.
I cross my arms over my chest, and remember I was holding the piss bucket, and wipe my hands on my dress. I’m freezing, so I go over to my shitty little bed (which looks worse with a bit of light on it) and pull the blanket around my shoulders. “What does this have to do with Kalos? Or with me?”
Margo glances over at me. “Well, Seth stole you to convince Kalos to come with us. He’s wooing him right now, trying to get him to form an alliance.”
“An alliance,” I repeat, uncomprehending. “For what?”
“Seth needs to weasel into this pantheon, so he’s picking at the weak spots.
” She paints another brown, circular blob over the first one, and dabs her brush again.
“He’s looking for allies, and we’ve heard a lot of scuttlebutt about an Aspect of Disease that was flying solo, so we headed in your direction.
I’m not saying he’s a great guy, but he’s probably good to have on your side instead of an enemy. And I wouldn’t mind some buddies.”
She paints a black circle and what looks like a smile.
I’m so confused. Confused and bizarre’d out by her. Is this part of their plan? To send someone from my world over to chat with me, befriend me (or confuse me) and get me to lower my guard? “Kalos isn’t going to be happy that you stole me.”
“We noticed. Also, he’s Apathy, so one can’t expect him to be too happy with much.” She taps the end of her brush on her lip, studying her picture. “But we’re working with that. Does this seem like a mouth to you?”
I glance at her picture again. “What are you painting?”
“Well, when I’m done, it’s going to be a dog in a party hat. But right now, it just looks like a snowman made of turds.” Margo tilts her head. “The party hat is going to have to do a lot of heavy lifting in this picture, I’m afraid.”
I can’t help but ask the obvious. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why are you painting a dog in a party hat?”
Her mouth curls up in a tiny smile. “I like painting. Doing something with my hands calms me. I feel like I can focus when my hands are busy, otherwise I just feel like a weirdo standing around and doing nothing.”
“But…a dog in a party hat?”
“Oh, that.” She laughs. “I paint animals in party hats because it annoys Seth, and I enjoy annoying him. Before this, it was just an endless stream of pictures of Seth kicking puppies, but that joke grew passe so now it’s party hats.”
Weird. “You’re not friends…with him? Your, er, god? Seth? Which Aspect is he?”
“He’s none of them. He’s a special case and no one’s very friendly to him because of it.
” Her mouth twists, her smile disappearing.
“I can’t blame them. The guy isn’t exactly oozing friendliness, but the gods here are all fuck-ups, you know?
If they were so good at their jobs, they wouldn’t be exiled to the mortal realm.
Seth is good at what he does, at least. He motivates people.
He’s always got a dastardly plan. There are worse things, and someone’s got to be the bad guy, right? ”
“So why would we team up with a bad guy?”
“Because you’re bad guys, too? Duh?”
I recoil. “What? We are not! Disease doesn’t have to be a bad thing!”
Margo rolls her eyes at me. “Denial’s not just a river in Egypt. Go on and tell me all the great things that chicken pox has done for society.”
“You’re looking at it wrong,” I protest, even though I know she’s got a point.
I needed convincing, too, didn’t I? “Kalos might have an unpleasant job but that doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.
He’s working on improving how he handles things.
That’s what they’re down here for, right?
To become more sympathetic and better at their jobs? ”
“How do you become better at diseasing people?”
“He’s not just disease!” I reply hotly. My temper is flaring. She’s being unjust to Kalos and he doesn’t deserve her ire, especially when she’s shacked up with freaking Set or Loki or whoever. “He’s rebirth, too. Medicine. Things wither and die to make way for the new.”
Margo eyes me and turns back to her painting. “Sounds like a lot of excuses to me.”
“It’s not!”
“So you’re telling me he’s spending all his time swanning around and healing the sick?” She paints a pink triangle above the “dog’s” head, the start of a hat. “Because we’ve had spies watching you both and I haven’t heard anything about that.”
“We’ve been trying to stay alive, thank you.
” I tighten my blanket around my body, anger burning in my belly.
Margo might be acting friendly but I’m seriously starting to dislike her.
She doesn’t know Kalos like I do. She doesn’t know that it’s difficult for him to get out of bed sometimes, or that I can tell when he enters his “apathy” state and goes silent and distant.
I’m constantly prodding him out of it, trying to get him to smile, but it’s like being with someone who has intense depression.
And depression isn’t anyone’s fucking fault. It’s just something that one must deal with. Doesn’t make someone a bad person.
“Why are you here, Margo?” I demand. “If it’s so we can become friends, you’re not exactly winning me over by criticizing the god I serve. Like it or not, I’m on Kalos’s side.”
Her expression softens. “Look, I’m sorry.
I know. We’re not responsible for whatever the god we’re attached to does.
I know that more than anyone.” She grimaces and sets her paintbrush down, turning to face me.
Her necklace glitters in the lantern-light, sparkling like a cluster of stars.
“I’m not trying to make you defensive, Elsie.
I’m just pointing out why it’d be good for our two teams to work together.
Seth isn’t entirely bad either, but the perception of him is negative, just like the perception of Kalos is negative. Why not join forces?”
“Can I point out again that you kidnapped me? And you’re holding Kalos hostage somewhere nearby?”
“He’s not a hostage. He can leave at any time.”
“But he won’t,” I point out.
“No, he won’t.” She shakes her head.
We both know he won’t, because I’m not there, and because he’s Apathy.
He’s going to linger, possibly in the same room for days or weeks on end, and it’s not his fault because he doesn’t have me to goad him into action.
If I’m going to get free, I’m going to have to do it myself.
And to do that, I probably need to get Margo on my side.
I eye her speculatively, noting again that her experience in this world so far has been very different than mine.
She’s glittering in jewels and silks. She has servants to drag her painting supplies everywhere. Hell, she has a freaking castle.
I have a threadbare blanket and a piss bucket. “If you want us to join you guys, can I point out something?” I gesture at my surroundings. “This isn’t inspiring confidence in me. I’m being treated like a prisoner.”
Margo grimaces, and the calm assurance she’s worn the entire time slips a little, her expression flickering with frustration.
“I know, and I’m truly sorry about that.
Seth and I argued, and he won the rock-paper-scissors battle.
I wanted you upstairs in a nice room. Catch flies with honey, you know?
But he’s not convinced you wouldn’t run at the first opportunity. ”
Well, he’s not wrong. I don’t point that out. “Can I have a thicker blanket at least?”
“Oh my god, absolutely.” She gets to her feet and bangs on the door until one of the guards opens it. “I want clothes and some heavy blankets for my friend here. And real food and water, not the prisoner shit.” She pauses and adds, “And a pillow.”
The guard pauses, his gaze sliding to me and back to Margo. “My lady, Lord Seth said—”
“You let me handle Seth,” Margo says imperiously. “If anyone asks, you’re doing my bidding.”
He looks uneasy but nods and leaves.