WebMage (7 page)

"Please," I said. Her shoulders dropped.

"Oh, all right. I'll do it, but I'm not going to take responsibility if you end up with a permanent limp."

"Thank you."

After five straight days of bed rest I was starting to crack. Few things in life are as frustrating as being told you have to lie still and take it easy when you're feeling better. I can't say I felt good, more like I'd been run over by a small car. But that was so much better than I'd felt when I arrived, it seemed I should have been out running marathons. Instead, I was spending my time staring at the ceiling of Ahllan's guest room.

That was another thing I wasn't any too happy about. If I had to be in a hospital, I'd prefer it were an expensive private one with all the amenities, including attractive young women in white uniforms who will wipe my brow when I buzz for them. But instead of electric lights and adjustable beds, I had an oil lamp and a battered futon. Worse, when I needed something, I rang a bell that summoned a sweet but esthetically challenged troll matron to my bedside. Ahllan wasn't about to let me get up either. Cerice had subverted her somehow, and nothing I did or said by way of bribery or cajoling had any effect on my treatment. That only left threats, and you simply don't threaten trolls, vegetarian or not.

My encounter with the cousins and its aftermath had suggested a couple of spells to me. So I'd spent some time jacked in and coding. But once that was finished, there wasn't much to do besides computer games, and there's only so much video poker you can play. This is particularly true if your laptop makes snide remarks when you lose a hand. I suspected him of cheating, but had no way to prove it.

Such was my state of mind when a column of blue light appeared beside my bed. This time Cerice had skipped the armor. She wore a pale red blouse, a deeper red skirt, and a braided gold belt. Her hair fell in loose waves to her waist. Shara stood beside her in goblin form.

I ignored them. Cerice was the one who'd put me in Ahllan's care, and, besides, I had a card game to finish, one I was winning for a change. Suddenly my game was replaced by an error message.

The application Hold Em has unexpectedly quit. Please save and close all applications and return your computer to its webgoblin shape.

A high evil chuckle sounded in my ear. Shara had climbed up next to my pillow. I resisted an urge to stick my tongue out at her. She'd probably have bitten it. Webgoblins have a low and petty sense of humor.

"I've never seen an error message quite like that one," Cerice said, leaning over me. Cross as I was, I couldn't resist the opportunity to draw in a lungful of her lilac perfume. "I suspect your sidekick has one-upped his boss."

"Well," I replied, "he can suffer for it then. I'm going to leave him in laptop shape and see how he likes that."

"My, aren't we snippy this morning?" asked Cerice, plopping herself down on the bed. "Maybe I shouldn't spring you from this joint."

My pointed ears perked forward at that. The chance to escape from my convalescent prison sounded like a ticket to the Elysian fields. I sighed and typed the command to change Melchior back into his goblin shape. He and Shara headed off to do goblin things, and Cerice smiled at me and rang the bell. Ahllan appeared at once and, after Cerice gave the word, allowed me to pull on a loose green tunic and shorts.

Then the troll carried me out into the sunshine, setting me down on a nearby hill as gently as a mother dog putting her puppy in the den. For obvious reasons, we didn't want to be too close to the faerie ring. That's how quaint folktales and other nasty accidents happen. The crown of the hill wore a wreath of bent crab apples, one of which provided me with a backrest as I surveyed the landscape. Cerice joined me there, and for a long time we didn't move, sitting shoulder to shoulder in companionable silence.

"Odd sort of landscape," said Cerice, finally.

The trees were all low and twisted into fantastic shapes. The dominant ground cover was Creeping Charlie. Odd bits of trash were scattered everywhere, punctuated by the occasional enormous dump pile. No matter which way the wind blew it carried a faint flavor of decaying vegetation. Yet there was a strange beauty to it all. Wild grape and other creepers were waging war on the junk and winning. Near us, a colony of morning glories had converted a rusted-out Chevy Malibu into a floral topiary in a crazy quilt of emerald and pink.

"Still, there's something appealing to it," I said after a few moments.

Cerice nodded and squeezed my hand. "It must be the glamour of faerie. The air here is saturated with raw magic."

"Is it, my lady?" I asked. I'd been outside long enough for my disposition to mellow, and my court manners were returning. "I hadn't realized it was in the air. I thought the magic arose from the proximity of your most lovely person."

"My goodness. Ravirn the prince has returned at last. I had begun to believe that the reason our gracious and charming hostess was taking such good care of you was that you bore a resemblance to her long-lost offspring."

"I have been a bit of a troll these last few days, haven't I?" I replied, softly. Resolving to make amends, I rolled up onto my good knee, extending my bad leg behind me, and faced Cerice. "I must beg your forgiveness and indulgence for my behavior. My only excuse is extreme pain, compounded by a dose of awareness that eternal youth does not immortality make."

A frown chased itself across her delicate features. "You did make it down to the very banks of the Styx, didn't you? Figuratively speaking, of course."

I nodded. "I came so close I could almost have lent Moric the coins to pay the ferryman and waved him on his way." I shuddered. I didn't like Moric, and I had far rather it was him than me, but I wished our encounter could have ended in some other fashion. "Were it not for you, my lady, I might even now be wandering that far shore. I owe you everything, Cerice. I am at your service for whatever you might ask."

"I think that I shall begin with this." She leaned forward and placed her soft lips against mine.

That first contact was like white fire, and it burned all the way to my toes. I couldn't say how long we sat like that, nothing touching but our lips. In retrospect the kiss seems fleeting, but at the time it was my whole world. Some eternal moment later I felt her lips open under mine and her arms reach around my neck. I'm sure my hands were similarly engaged, but the memory is gone. We shifted, trying to get closer together without letting our lips part. It was wonderful, but it meant a good deal of twisting about, and my injured knee hit a root. I shrieked and curled into a ball.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Kiss! Wow! Knee! Root! Bad!" I lay on my side facing away from her, my hands clutching my injury.

"How articulate. I told you it wouldn't heal well if I did all the work. Let me look at it." She leaned into my field of view, and I saw that her blouse had somehow become partially unbuttoned, exposing an ivory breast tipped with the palest pink flower of a nipple. I lost interest in my knee.

After a few seconds, so did Cerice. I have only fragmentary impressions of what happened next, brief but incredibly vivid snapshots. Sliding my hands along her ribs to cup her breasts. Tearing the button off her skirt when I couldn't figure out how to get it unfastened. Feeling her teeth playfully nipping at the hollow of my thigh. An incredible burst of lilac as I buried my face in the triangle at the base of her belly. Kisses that came as suddenly and surprisingly as summer lightning on a dark night. Cerice's face twisted into a mask of wild emotion. The sun lighting her hair like a white waterfall as she moved atop me. A climax that started somewhere around the base of my skull and shot down my spine, arching me like a bow.

When it was over Cerice laid her length on me, still clutching me tightly with her inner muscles. She was as tall as I, and her hair cascaded down around our faces, enclosing us in curtain of privacy. Her slit-pupiled eyes shone blue fire at me from a distance of inches, and the scent of lilacs filled my nostrils. I was content in a way I had rarely been before. This was not my first time by any means, but it felt different somehow. I wasn't sure what to do or say about that, so I contented myself with silence and a careful study of Cerice's fine-boned features.

"What are you thinking?" she asked after a while.

I reached for words, and found, "I was thinking that we skipped a step."

"Huh?" She looked confused.

"Well, I think very highly of you. I like your personality, your looks, your style, your devious hacker brain; in short, everything about you. I've felt that way for some years now, and intended to ask you out on something of a formal date, and yet I've never gotten around to doing anything about it. Now, we've skipped the whole courting phase and leaped into bed."

Her laugh was rich and mellow, like fresh apple juice after a day in the sun. "How very sweet of you, Ravirn. Perhaps the courtier is the real you, and the scrappy ruffian is the mask. I was just thinking that I should have done this ages ago, knocked you over and ravished you, that is. It's been on my list of things to do practically forever. Though I must admit I like the sound of courting as much as any woman."

"Well then, courting you shall have. I rather think we should make something more of this than a wild afternoon. That means doing things right. And doing things right means a proper beginning. Perhaps an elegant dinner with candlelight and china at a fine restaurant in Paris, followed by slow dancing, and a moonlight walk along the Seine? How does that sound to you?"

"I'll think about it. However"—she laughed again, although this time with a wicked undertone—"since we're already in a compromising position, I intend to take shameless advantage of you."

Her hands slid down to the place where we were conjoined and did highly dexterous things. My response was immediate, involuntary, and wholehearted.
Shameless advantage
, she'd said, and she was true to her word, several times.

* * * *

The futon in Ahllan's guest room wasn't quite a Parisian inn, but it was wide enough for two, and that's where we ended our day.

"I wish this moment could last forever," I said.

"Nothing lasts forever," said Cerice, lifting her head from my chest. "I'm going to have to leave soon. My doctoral duties are calling. I've learned some things at the new experimental computing department at Harvard that I think will help with this computer-recycling project I'm working on." She frowned, and her voice became tight. "I can't stand all the waste. The family of Fate needs to realize there are places to take an old system besides the junk heap. It makes me so mad sometimes, I… No, never mind. I don't want to start that discussion now. What I started to say was that I've got an oral exam tomorrow. If I miss it, Clotho will have a fit."

I sighed. "I empathize. Lachesis isn't going to forgive me anytime soon for bringing the mweb down. Missing midterms on top of that has guaranteed my place at the top of her shit list. I promised her I'd do well in my studies this year. Now she's never going to believe another word I say."

Of course, that was because of the curse, but I couldn't tell Cerice that. I couldn't tell Cerice anything without sounding like the worst sort of liar. I wanted to tell her everything, to let her know I hadn't hacked Atropos.web and crashed the mweb just for the fun of it. But I couldn't. Atropos hadn't just shut my mouth, she'd put an invisible cage around me. I was a prisoner of silence.

Cerice didn't say anything more either, and we lay quietly and held each other until the door banged open.

"Rise and shine," said Shara, poking her head into the room. "You've got a test to take." Melchior followed her in.

"That's my exit cue," said Cerice, rolling out of bed.

She started pulling on her clothes. When she got to the skirt with the missing button, she looked irritated. "I wish you'd let me handle that," she said, producing a safety pin from somewhere.

"I'm sorry. Do you want me to fix it?"

"I don't have the time."

"Maybe when I see you next," I said. I'd really enjoyed our day together, and I wanted a repeat as soon as possible.

"I'm sure it'll be fixed before that," said Cerice, without even glancing my way. "Shara, initiate ltp link; Mtp://mweb. DecLocus.prime.minus0208/harvard.edu~markhamdorm 217. Execute."

"Executing," said Shara. She worked quickly, getting an active gate up in no time.

Cerice stepped into the column of light.

"Wait," I called. "When
can
I see you next?"

"I don't know. My schedule's going to be awful for the next month or two. Drop me an e-mail, and we'll see if we can work something out.
Ciao
."

"But, Cerice, I—" It was too late. She was gone, and I missed her already.

"Ouch," said Melchior, shaking his head.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing really, but the only other place I've seen a brushback like that was on a baseball field."

I wanted to argue, but found I couldn't. She
had
thrown her parting comment like a pitcher trying to move a batter away from the plate. That hurt. It also seemed perfectly emblematic of how things had gone ever since my little'tête-à-tête with Atropos about Puppeteer. I'd finally found a woman who I thought I might be able to build a relationship with, and she'd loved me and left me. I tried to go back to sleep, but being alone with the scent of lilacs lingering in the air was simply too much.

I decided it was time I stopped back at my dorm. I'd left some important things there in the escape from my cousins, like Melchior's backups, and my extra spell files and research materials. If I wanted to have another go at Atropos, I'd need all of it. Sighing wearily, I ordered Melchior to take us home. My knee felt like someone had put a burr under the cap, but I thought I could run if I had to, and I didn't know how much time I had left to stop Atropos.

As Melchior set up the ltp link, I sent a mental request to the faceless goddess of Necessity to allow my doppelganger ploy to have worked. Being dead for a while would come in mighty handy.