Hour of Mischief (11 page)

“It might not be a God who comes for you.” Itazura shrugged. “It could just be a beast of the Abyss.”

“Lovely.” I forced a smile. “Beast of the Abyss. That sounds so much better.”

“Don’t worry, little thief. I’ll make sure you don’t get yourself killed,” Itazura said. “It
is
my power on the line, you know.”

“Oh, I’m
so
sorry.”

Itazura sighed. “I believe your hangover has made you less agreeable than normal. I’ll go find Laetatia. I don’t want to deal with a grumpy you. A normal you is bad enough.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled as he closed the door. Then I flopped back down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

Honestly, Itazura didn’t make this whole situation sound too hard, beasts of the Abyss aside. I had already gotten Laetatia’s approval and if I convinced one more god, they would spread the word with no problem. And the pact would be finished. If I hurried, I could solve this whole mess before any nasty gods got wind of it.

All at once, I couldn’t wait to leave the tavern and get this quest over with, but the moment I tried to get up my ears started ringing and black spots danced across my vision. I collapsed again, my tangled hair falling in front of my face.

“Damn hangovers.”

“Yes I imagine you aren’t having a wonderful time with that one,” Laetatia said from the doorway. She held a cup of steaming liquid in her hand.

“Have you ever even had a hangover?” I asked, brushing my hair aside.

“Once,” she admitted. “Four hundred and fifty years ago. An unhappy day for all of the gods. But the minor Goddess of Alcoholic Beverages, bless her one thousand times over, concocted this little brew for me.” She held up the glass of steaming liquid. “Since then I’ve perfected the brew into the ultimate cure for the hangover. I even got it to stop tasting like volp piss.”

“Excellent. Hand it over,” I said, forcing myself to sit up. I took the steaming cup and downed the drink in a few swift gulps.

I almost spat it back out.

“Great Abyss, I thought you said you got it to
stop
tasting like volp piss.” I sputtered.

“I did,” Laetatia said. “It used to taste worse.”

“No kidding?” I wiped my mouth and shook my head. To my great joy, my skull didn’t throb with pain at the movement. The hangover had already begun receding.

“My gods.” I blinked and stared at the still steaming, empty glass. “This stuff is amazing.”

“Isn’t it?” Laetatia said. “You can see why we’re lost without our minor gods. That’s one of the worst parts of this apocalypse. So many of them have turned on us. Not that we showed them the gratitude they deserved.” She ran a hand through her hair. “You’re lucky you’ve gotten a taste of this little drink. I reserve it for the humans I actually like.”

“Flattered,” I said. “I don’t suppose you’d give me the recipe.”

“Not a chance,” Laetatia said, sitting down in the chair across from me.

“Trust me I’ve asked her for it before,” Itazura said. “I’ve even tried to steal the recipe from the Goddess of Alcoholic Beverages.” He rubbed a hand behind his head. “It did not go well.”

“Not at all,” Laetatia said, cheerfully. “So, you need to find another God to win over. Who did you have in mind?”

“I’m letting him lead the way,” I said, jerking my head toward Itazura. “I don’t know any gods personally, so I don’t know who’s easiest.”

“Oh,
I
know who’s the easiest,” Laetatia said, glancing at Itazura.

“I do too,” Itazura said. “But I thought she’d take to you better.”

“I’d imagine so. I’d imagine she’d take to Axira better than our little brother.”

“Who are we talking about?” I asked.

Itazura looked away uncomfortably which once again left Laetatia to give me the straight answer. “Meroquio.”

I froze. “Meroquio? As in ‘God of Love’ Meroquio?”

“Is there any other?” Itazura asked.

“Unfortunately no,” Laetatia muttered. “Our brother has his good points, but I can’t stand to see him with
any
of his worshipers. It can be a rather revolting display.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Give me someone else. Anyone else. I can’t convince Meroquio.”

“Why not?” Laetatia asked. “He’s much easier to convince than me. Meroquio is rather accessible if you have . . . certain features.”

“Like a pulse,” Itazura said helpfully. “And lips.”

“Wrong,” I said. “I would rather have a hundred drinking competitions with you than–there is no way I’m going to do this!”

“You don’t really have a choice, if you want to finish this pact as quickly as possible,” Itazura said. “You can win over Meroquio within the night. The others will be much more difficult to convince. Not to mention more difficult to find.”

“Meroquio on the other hand, isn’t too far away,” Laetatia said. “He’s attending a higher end middle-class party tonight at a mansion on the edge of the middle ring and the upper ring.”

“Well, then that settles it,” I said. “I don’t have anything remotely formal. I can’t possibly go.”

Itazura and Laetatia cast each other a mischievous glance. “Oh we can arrange something.”

I’d never worn a dress before. For one thing, dresses weren’t practical wear during a heist, especially when climbing up scaffolding and pipes. For another thing, I couldn’t afford a fancy dress anyway. And lastly, I had been cursed with a bulky mechanical arm from a young age, and it didn’t exactly compliment formal wear.

Did Itazura and Laetatia care about any of that? No. They forced me into a middle class dress anyway. One of Laetatia’s extras. I should have been flattered to wear the clothing of a Goddess but resentment far outweighed my gratitude.

“It doesn’t look so bad,” Itazura said. “You and Laetatia are about the same size.”

“In the waist and hips.” I picked at the strap of the dress. “But I think Laetatia is a bit more well-endowed. This dress is pretty loose across my chest.”

“Oh, thank you.” Laetatia flicked her dark-brown hair over her shoulder. “I do try.”

“It’s not too noticeable,” Itazura said, observing the area of my body I didn’t exactly want him to observe.

“Take your eyes
off
my chest or you’re going to feel what it’s like to be smacked across the face with steel,” I hissed.

“Thanks to you, I already
know
the feeling.”

Laetatia eyed Itazura. “You know, you could have picked someone who liked you a little bit more for this pact.”

“Anyone who genuinely liked me probably wouldn’t be a good fit for this job,” Itazura said.

“True.” Laetatia guided me in front of an oval shaped mirror. “Well, what do you think?”

I stared at myself for a long moment. Actually, it didn’t look half bad. At least not as bad as I feared. My auburn hair was combed nicely, no longer the usual tangled volp’s nest. The red fabric of the dress went well with my light-brown skin and the silver bangles around my right wrist brought out the grey of my eyes. But the shoulder of my mechanical arm stood out against my body. Unlike many people with false limbs, my circuitry wasn’t as neat and tidy and several jagged scars still marred my skin around the shoulder plate where the mechanic had attached the arm to my stub of a shoulder. Not the most attractive thing in the world. I never felt so self-conscious about it before. Usually it matched my clothing, adding a little grit to my appearance. Now, it seemed so foreign and out of place.

“I guess there’s no way to find a dress to cover this.” I traced my finger along one of my scars, a frown on my face.

“Better to just show it off,” Laetatia said. “A long sleeve dress would just draw more attention to your arm. The fabric would stretch too much over the metal. Sleeveless is the best way to go.”

“Sure,” I murmured, rolling my shoulder. The metal creaked and I winced. Never had it sounded so loud.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be in good company. The higher classes have made it a fashion statement to cut off their real limbs and slap on enhanced mechanical attachments.” Laetatia shivered. “Personally I don’t see the appeal.”

“Neither do I,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong, this thing can be pretty useful in some situations. But if I could, I would get my flesh arm back.”

“Exactly how did you lose your flesh arm?” Itazura asked.

“That’s not really your business, is it?” I snapped, glaring at him. Itazura’s eyebrows shot up, as if in surprise. Maybe that was harsh, even for me.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Just . . . it doesn’t really matter. Let’s just get this over with. The sooner I’m out of this pact with you, the better.”

“I second that,” Laetatia said. She spun me around to face her. “Don’t worry about how you look in the dress. It’s just to get you into the party.”

“And then I’ll be the center of attention once I’m there,” I protested. “This makes me stick out. Putting a dress over me can’t cover up the fact that I don’t belong with those people.”

“It might work in your favor though.” Laetatia shrugged. “If you stick out, you’ll be interesting. And if you’re interesting, you’re more likely to catch Meroquio’s eye. Meroquio is attracted to interesting women like an aristocrat is attracted to eccentric clothing.”

“Great,” I forced out through gritted teeth.

Laetatia squeezed my flesh shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Janet.”

“Maybe. But it’s not attracting him I’m worried about.” I glanced at my steel hand. “It’s afterward that makes me nervous.”

“Well, I’m not sure how much I can help you there,” Laetatia said. “Just try not to take my little brother too seriously.”

“Is he even younger than you?” I asked. “I thought you all came into being at the same time.”

“Technically,” Itazura said. “But everyone considers Meroquio their younger brother. It’s a maturity issue.”

“Wow, people must consider you a little brother too.”

Laetatia chuckled. “Actually, yes, they do.”

Itazura frowned. “Thanks, Sis.”

“No problem,” Laetatia said. “Take this too.” She held out her hand. A gear sat in her palm. It was copper in color but it wasn’t a normal coin. Laetatia’s Mug was etched in the center of it. “Just in case you get into trouble. If you flip this coin you’ll end up back here.”

“Really? Why is that?” I asked, taking the coin and turning it in my hand.

“We all have them,” Itazura said, reaching into one of his pockets and pulling out a dark green gear of his own. This one bore a hand at the center, the sign of mischief. “They make travelling to the human realms easier. We all have a location assigned to our coins. Whenever we flip them we travel there instantly.”

“Right,” Laetatia said. “And my coin flips to here. It is my favorite tavern after all. So if you get into trouble, be sure to use it.” She offered her hand. “Good luck. I’ll keep my part of the bargain if you manage this. I promise. If you need to find me, just come back here.”

“Thanks.” I slipped the gear into my pocket and accepted her hand. “For everything.”

“And thank you for the entertaining drinking game.” Laetatia winked.

Laetatia had succeeded in cheering me up, but as soon as I stepped outside the tavern, warm optimism turned to ice in my chest. It was bad enough I had to go to a formal, middle-class party, but speaking with Meroquio was a far worse prospect.

Because when that name came to mind, I saw the symbol hanging over my mother’s bedroom door, and the pendant she kept around her neck. I heard the prayers she whispered in the dark. Romantic prayers for a man who might stay with her until morning.

Prayers Meroquio never cared to answer.