Read WebMage Online

Authors: Kelly Mccullough

Tags: #High Tech, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy Fiction, #Computers, #General, #Fantasy, #Fantasy Fiction; American, #Fiction

WebMage (27 page)

"If I tell you, there's absolutely no way you're going to believe me," I said.

"I don't believe you," replied Eris.

"What did I just tell you?" I asked.

"That I wouldn't believe you," she responded. "But that's got nothing to do with my not believing you."

"I know that," I said. "Because I know why you don't believe me."

"I don't believe this," said Melchior, burying his face in his hands. "Ravirn, would you just shut up for a moment and let me handle this one?"

"And why would I believe
you
?" asked the goddess. "I don't believe him."

"Because I'm not under a curse," said Melchior.

"That could easily be changed," said the goddess. "I'm getting tired of twenty questions."

The goblin held up both hands placatingly. "In that case, I'd better get started. The problem is that my companion has something of a reputation for intransigence."

"I can't imagine why," replied Eris dryly.

"This is nothing," said Melchior. "By his usual standards, he's been the soul of sober diplomacy. I think it's the manacles. They seem to be good for his disposition."

"Melchior," I growled, putting teeth into my tone, "I think you're straying from the point."

"Sorry." He turned back to Eris, who had started to drum her fingers on the desk. "I'm sorry. It's just that opportunities like this are so rare. Usually, when he's in hot water up to his neck, I'm somewhere down by his ankles wishing for a snorkel."

"You were saying something about
him
being difficult," prompted Eris. "The trait seems to be catching."

"Yes. Again, sorry. You see, you aren't the first goddess he's irritated. He was making a hobby of it with Atropos."

"Could we dispense with the editorials, Mel?" I asked.

"Of course," he replied. "The point of this is that Atropos has zero sense of humor about being crossed."

"She's not alone," said Eris, pointedly.

"Right," replied Melchior, speeding up his delivery. "Atropos invited Ravirn to have a little chat with her, and she was quite insistent. It seems that she wanted him to do her a favor. He didn't want to, and rather than doing the sensible thing and lying about it, he tried to slither around the issue. Atropos didn't like that and gave him an ultimatum and a couple of days to think about it. She also signed him up for a sort of involuntary nondisclosure contract by laying Cassandra's curse on him. And that's why there's no chance you'll believe the story if he tells it."

"Finally," said Eris. "A claim subject to verification." She rose and stalked to within touching distance of me. "Let's see," she continued, reaching out and laying one hand on each side of my head. I found myself suddenly and painfully aware of the woman scent of her, a sort of musky enticing smell with an undertone of exotic spices. "I want you to silently count to ten, then tell me that Atropos gave you the gift Apollo bestowed on Cassandra. Begin now."

While I counted, Eris hummed. Like the Fates, she possessed the ability to produce multiple notes. However, hers weren't the least bit harmonious. But what else would you expect from the Goddess of Discord? When I reached ten, I made my declaration. As I spoke, I felt the curse's numbness take possession of my lips. But this time there was a hot, prickly undertone to the feeling, as though someone was trying to pinch the flesh awake.

"Apollo's was better coded," said Eris. "But this isn't half-bad. She put some effort into it. Reason enough, I suppose."

"For what?" I asked.

"To break the thing, of course. Thwarting Atropos would make it worth the effort all on its own, but this does double duty. I want to hear the long version of the story your web-goblin was spinning, and I want to hear it from your own lips. That means the curse has to go."

"I didn't think that was possible," I said. "Doesn't it have to be removed by its caster?"

"I am Discord," replied Eris. "The unmaker. There are
very
few spells I can't undo. Now hush."

Eris placed a finger on my lips. Her flesh was cool and dry, but I still felt a sweet burn. She began to croon deep in her throat. It was unlike any spell I'd ever heard. This was no binary modulation. This was pure wild magic, riding on a sound like storm waves swallowing a beach or the wind ripping shingles off a roof. From the place where her finger touched my lips, I felt the pleasant burn spread out and down to my tongue and throat, like eucalyptus syrup tracing a slow, fiery path through my system. The sensation crossed from almost pleasure into searing pain as she withdrew her finger. The pain continued to build. I wanted to speak, cry out, scream, but someone seemed to have yanked my sound card. Then, just as the pain reached an unbearable crescendo, Eris leaned forward and gave me the gentlest of kisses. Her lips were like soft ice, and they instantly quenched the flame, sending cool healing down my heated nerves. It lasted only a split second, but it wasn't something I was going to forget anytime soon.

"Well?" she asked, a half smile playing on her beautiful mouth, "What do you think of my methods?"

It took me a minute to compose my thoughts. Eris had a knack for sending one's edifice of reason crashing to wrack and ruin. It had been an educational experience, but not one I cared to repeat. First off, the tiny rational bit of my brain that wasn't completely addled by lust knew that what she had said earlier about being the worst kind of virgin goddess was only too true. Second, I didn't think Cerice would approve. Not at all. Third, it had hurt. A lot. And finally, I still didn't know if it had worked.

The question was how to answer without offending Eris any more than absolutely necessary. I was beginning to think that upsetting the powers that be might not be the brightest pattern of living. At least not while they could lay their hands on me. So, something like
10 for style, 5.9 for sincerity
, was not on the menu of safe answers. Even I can learn a lesson if you hit me with a stick enough times.

"You quite took my breath away," I said after a moment.

"Shall I return it?" she asked, pursing her lips as though she were blowing a kiss.

"Urg," I said, as libido and common sense fought for control of my vocal cords.

"My," interjected Melchior from the desktop. "That's quite coherent of you. You'll have to excuse him, your loftiness. Occasionally he slips into the quaint syntax of his prearticulate infanthood. Allow me to interpret. What he meant was 'thank you, but that won't be necessary.'" The goblin shrugged his shoulders. "Of course that's more of a paraphrase than a straight translation."

"Ah," replied the goddess, turning to look at Melchior. "Is that what that was? If he does it often, he's fortunate to have you around to speak for him."

"Aren't I just?" I said, putting all the sarcasm I could muster into the question. "Thanks for the help, Mel." Though, in truth, I
was
pleased with him. He'd managed to draw Eris's focus away from me.

"What I intended to say, before my charming sidekick stuck his little blue foot in, was thank you. Atropos has been busily writing bugs into the code of my life, and it's absolutely delightful to have someone remove some of her work." I paused for a moment to see whether my lips would start to tingle. When I felt no touch of the Cassandra curse, I breathed a deep sigh and upped the ante. "Atropos is a tyrannical, unscrupulous, evil-minded, scheming manipulator."

"Now
that
I can wholeheartedly endorse," said Eris, returning to her chair. "But as much as I admire the sentiment, I'm minded to ask why it is you're saying it."

"She's out to crush free will," I said. "And she wants to use me as her hammer."

"Tell me more," said Eris.

"She's coded a program to eradicate self-determination." Eris's reaction to what I thought of as a bombshell wasn't what I expected.

"Yes, that's why I sent my virus into the Fate Core."

"You know about Puppeteer?" I asked. I was a bit annoyed. I had gotten much the same response from Cerice when I'd first told her about things, and Ahllan for that matter. And even though I knew how
they'd
gotten hold of the information, I was beginning to feel that there was some secret newsgroup out there that everybody but me was subscribed to: alt.atropos.evil.plot… or some such. It was irritating.

"So, she's calling it Puppeteer," said Eris.

"Yes, she is. How did you know about it?" I asked.

"I didn't exactly know about it. Let us say rather that I inferred its existence. But unless I'm wrong, she hasn't got it working yet."

"No, she hasn't," I said. "Every time she's tried running the thing, it's crashed. There's a fatal error in the code somewhere, and she wants me to fix it."

"That explains it," replied the goddess. "I've felt rhythmic pulses of disturbance in the balance between chaos and order over the past several months. But they've been very weak. They'll have been caused by her failed test runs. And that brings us to a pivot point."

For some reason that phrase sent one of Eris's "pulses of disturbance" through my bone marrow. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, it could be argued that if Atropos needs you to make her program work, then the easiest way to be sure she doesn't succeed is to eliminate you."

"I was wondering why you hadn't taken these off yet." I rattled my chains and sighed. "I was kind of hoping it was just an oversight. No such luck, huh?"

"I'm afraid not. Do you have any thoughts on why I shouldn't simply remove you from the picture?"

"Let's see. We've established that charm is out. You're already aware of the fact that my continued existence irritates Atropos. I don't suppose you have a program that's, not working, something I could debug for you?" Before she could answer, I shook my head. "No, probably not. The only thing that comes to mind is the way you said 'could be argued,' which implies that perhaps killing me off wasn't what you had in mind. Melchior, how about you? Any bright ideas for keeping your partner among the living?"

"Well," he said, with a twisted smile, "if her worship really is in the market for increasing the overall level of discord in the multiverse, bumping you off would be like kicking in a goal for the other side."

"Oh thanks, Mel. Thanks a lot."

"If I'd said the melodious sound of your voice, I'd have been flat-out lying," he replied. "And you must admit that you tend to leave a comet trail of angry deities and generalized destruction in your wake."

The shattering-glass sound of Eris's laughter rang out. "If nothing else, I should keep you around as a comedy team." Her expression turned more serious. "Actually, as you guessed, I have at least one reason for not removing you immediately. As it turns out, I do have a program that needs a bit of debugging. It's nothing I couldn't do myself, mind you. But it's proven quite intractable to date."

"Hey, Boss," said Melchior, grinning. "This is starting to sound familiar. Maybe we should open up a consulting firm. M & R Associates, debuggers to the gods. What do you say?"

"I say it should be R & M, but other than that…"

"I don't know," replied Melchior. "M & R has more of a musical sound to it."

"Why don't we discuss it later," I said. Eris was drumming her fingers on the desktop again. I turned my attention her way. "Why don't you let me out of these chains, and we can discuss this program of yours."

"Not yet," said Eris. "First, I want to hear the full story of Puppeteer."

I gave her a slightly edited version. Since she already knew about the spell and the secret of familiar free will, I left those in, but I glossed over my differences with my grandmother. Lachesis might want to kill me at the moment, but that was the result of a misunderstanding, and besides, she was the head of my branch of the family. When I finished, Eris whistled a single note, and my chains fell away.

"Thank you," I said, rubbing my wrists.

Eris whistled another series of notes. This time I couldn't detect any effect, and my bafflement must have shown on my face.

"I've restored your weapons to you," said the goddess.

After she had pointed it out, I became aware of the reassuring weight of sword and dagger on my hips. Likewise, the pressure of a full shoulder holster under my arm.

"Thank you again," I said.

After another minute or so of silence the goddess reached into a drawer, pulled out a small yellow memory crystal, and slid it across the desk. The eight-sided gem was filled with traceries of blue neon that represented the energy flows of the spell. It was the strangest piece of code I'd ever seen. Rather than the neat angles I was used to, the lines formed a hopelessly tangled series of loops and curves. It looked more like a neural net than a spell.

"What is this programmed in?" I asked, starting to sweat.

"DiskOrdinal," she replied. "I created the language myself. But don't be alarmed, I wasn't expecting you to work on it like that. It's all binary underneath, and it won't take long to recompile it in a form you're more familiar with."

I relaxed. "That's a relief. I was afraid our relationship was about to deteriorate abruptly."

"Come with me." Eris rose and climbed the ladder to the floor above.

"Shall we, Melchior?" I asked, sliding off the desk.

"Of course" he said, hopping to the floor. "But after you, I insist."

We emerged on a circular wooden deck surrounded by low stone battlements. It was dark and Eris's golden-apple processors performed their dancing-star routine overhead. A wind from the nowhere beyond the castle's walls blew across the towertop, carrying with it a melange of dried flowers and hot circuits. Eris put two fingers in her mouth and whistled like a shepherd calling a dog. Even though I was beginning to adapt to the glamour she cast, I found myself wanting to sit up and beg. I don't think any being possessed of even the most rudimentary sex drive could have ignored her allure, but I did my level best not to drool. Apparently I wasn't subtle enough. With a wicked smile in my direction, Eris suggestively slid her fingers deep into her mouth for a moment before very slowly and sensually withdrawing them.

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