The Lion, the Witch, and the Werewolf Page 20

  “Narcissus!” I hissed.

  “Yeah; that's definitely him,” Trevor agreed.

  “He was right behind me?” Athena gaped at us.

  “And he took Hestia.” I nodded. “Their scents mingle.”

  “How did he manage to take her silently?” Athena asked.

  “I don't know but I don't see signs of a struggle,” Trevor pointed out.

  “Hestia would never have blithely walked away with him,” Athena scoffed. “If there is one woman who can resist Narcissus, it's her.”

  “And Vervain,” Trevor added.

  Athena lifted a brow at me.

  “He's not my type.” I shrugged.

  “I'd ask if you didn't like gorgeous men but your taste is not in question.” She waved her hand at Trevor.

  Trevor gave her an angled head-bow and a pleased grin.

  “Narcissus is too pretty and not pretty enough,” I said.

  “What does that mean?” Himeros asked; his group had just caught up to us.

  “He's effeminate,” I explained. “And not nearly pretty enough to make me ignore that.”

  “My wife prefers masculine men.” Trevor grinned wider.

  “Regardless of his face.” I waved it aside as I started following the trail. “There is nothing attractive about Narcissus as a person. Definitely nothing worth betraying your pantheon over, and I'm certain Hestia would agree with me. He had to have compelled her in some way to follow him.”

  “His only magic is water-based,” Triton pointed out. “As a water god myself, I can assure you that there's nothing I could do to coerce someone into following me against their will. At least nothing that would be silent and leave no trace behind.”

  “They went this way.” I didn't bother to comment on Narcissus' abilities. I'd save that discussion for after I found the end of the trail.

  We wandered over the pristine avenues, Greek Gods stopping to stare as their leaders passed by in the wake of the Godhunter and her werewolf husband. I ignored them and focused on the trails instead; Hestia's pastel yellow and Narcissus' silvery gray. I tried not to be bothered or distracted by the fact that Narcissus' trail appeared almost reflective. I hadn't analyzed his scent inside the mirror—only cataloged it—so I didn't know if it had looked the same in there or if it had changed when he'd been set free. He certainly smelled the same; like hot asphalt after a heavy rain. Steamy and a little metallic. I suppose silver was an appropriate representation.

  “That's Hestia's home,” Athena said as I turned up a walkway.

  I glanced back at her and nodded. I had figured as much. I hurried up the steps and into Hestia's palace. The door was unlocked, but I doubt the Greeks ever locked their doors. It wasn't as if they were going to steal from each other. Although, after this, there might be a few deadbolts installed.

  Hestia's home swept back from the front door in an open and airy style that a lot of Greek gods gravitated toward. A sort of ancient minimalism. It contained a few pieces of scattered, simple furniture, some rugs placed precisely to unite them, cool marble floors beneath the rugs, and some light decorations. No tiny treasures cluttered Hestia's end tables nor did frilly fabrics invade to soften the rooms. Only prime pieces of statuary posed on pedestals or tables along with a couple of dramatic vases to ease the monotony. It would have felt a little cold if it weren't for all the fireplaces. There was one in every room. They differed in size from moderate to giant, but no matter their grandeur, they were always the focal point.

  I forgot about the fireplaces as I followed Narcissus' trail. Hestia's had instantly melded with the remnants of her scent that lingered everywhere but a distinct path rose stronger than the others. Despite this, I focused on Narcissus; he was the one we really needed to find. Trevor and I moved up a central staircase after Narcissus' silver scent but then—in the middle of the stairs—it disappeared.

  “Where is it?” Trevor growled. “Do you smell it, Minn Elska?”

  “No; it's gone,” I said. “It's almost as if Hestia's scent overpowered it.”

  “Not possible,” Trevor said.

  “And yet, it's completely disappeared.” I glanced up and caught my reflection in a mirror at the top of the landing. My eyes were too wide, like those of a startled horse, and my cheeks were pale. I straightened my shoulders and turned to face the crowd of Greeks behind me. “The trail ends here.”

  “What the fuck are all of you doing in here!” A male voice snarled as a man pushed his way to the front of the group.

  The man wore jeans and a T-shirt that read; Ask me if I care. He was blond, slim, and fair-skinned with eyes as dark as my hair and an expression that rarely wavered from disdain. Today, though, Momus looked scared.

  “I've had to ask several people where to find you,” he went on. “At least you made enough of a spectacle of yourselves that I was able to follow the gossiping gods here.”

  “Momus?” Athena approached him. “What's happened?”

  “It's the Fates,” Momus whispered. “They're gone.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The Fates—also known as the Moirai—are three sisters who control aspects of fate. I say “aspects” because they're still just Atlanteans and no one controls everyone's fate. That being said, the sisters are powerful; at least where the future is concerned. No one messed with them, even Zeus had left them alone. But more than that, I liked them. Well, at least two of them; Atropos is kind of bitchy.

  The Moirai live together with Momus in a territory that they routinely changed. And I mean utterly changed, not just a revamp with a few new features. They would alter the landscape and their palace into entirely new versions. It was their way to compromise; they'd each get a turn at designing their home. The Fates tended to be influenced by movies and literature, which I wholeheartedly approved of. This latest theme was Avatar.

  Our growing group had traced over into Moirai territory, and we came out of the Aether on the bank of a gleaming river. Strange trees grew everywhere, even out of the water; their trunks dipped and lifted in graceful U-shapes with roots draping from them in undulating lines. Night reigned with a full Moon overhead, even though it had been midday on Olympus. But that wasn't the strangest part; oceanic plant life sprouted among the shadowy undergrowth, glowing neon pink, lavender, and turquoise. Their surreal colors softly highlighted the forest.

  “If anemones start floating down like dandelion puffs, I may squeal in happiness,” I warned everyone as I started searching for the Tree of Souls.

  “Why is it dark?” Donnie asked. “It should be daytime over here; the Fates are in the same territory as us.”

  Okay, so here's the thing; the Greek Gods have an odd territory. It's shared with all of them but also broken down into smaller sections. Sort of how Cephissus did with his portion except on a larger scale. Several places were public out of necessity; to allow for human souls to travel through them. Then there was Olympus that was public because of the community of gods who lived there. But there were also pockets of sub-territories owned by individual Greeks. Those pockets sheltered under the umbrella of the main territory but had the ability to ward themselves off. The Fates owned one such place.

  “Clotho likes the colors at night,” Momus explained with a huff. “She keeps blocking out the damn Sun. It was like this when they disappeared, and I haven't been able to figure out how to get the lights back on.”

  Momus is the Spirit of Mockery, Blame, and Censure. He can't help the way he is. And yes; a spirit is another type of Greek god. The Greek Pantheon is so immense that the Greeks ended up creating new titles.

  “Come on.” Momus moved his arm reluctantly in a wave and indicated a bridge that spanned the lake in front of us.

  The bridge ended up being an enormous root, flattened for sure-footing. We followed him over it and down a path lit only by those glowing plants. It led to an enormous tree, just as I'd expected, but it wasn't the Tree of Souls, this was a Hometree. It looked a lot like the one in the movie, but I
was betting that Clotho had added a few upgrades. I couldn't see her living without her creature comforts.

  The trunk of the Hometree was formed of several smaller trunks that wound together into a single column until spraying out into a bouquet of branches that created a flat canopy far above. Momus strode into the shadows between the exposed, sinuous roots.

  “Are you guys coming, or what?” He called back to us.

  We glanced at each other, shrugged, and went into the dark after him. Past the monstrous roots, the twisting trunks parted like curtains to reveal an elevator. I peered upward; the trunks must wind around the elevator shaft. How ingenious.

  “Well that ruins it a bit,” Re huffed.

  “The ladies didn't want to climb a tree every time they left the house,” Momus snapped. “It's smart.”

  “Of course, it is,” I said as I got in the elevator. “It's more than that in fact; it's awesome, and it's hidden so it doesn't ruin the ambiance.”

  Momus was being particularly touchy, and I was sure it had everything to do with his concern for his friends. He acted as if he didn't like the Fates, but I'd seen him smile secretly at the ladies. He was like a brother to them, and they were probably the only family he had. I'd give him some leeway for that.

  We got into the elevator—this one was large enough to hold all of us; take that, Mount Olympus!—and Momus pushed the Up button. We zoomed up the center of the trunk and then came to a smooth halt. The doors slid open to reveal a spacious entry room.

  The room stretched out over a flat-topped branch with walls to either side but nothing on the far end where the branch dangled over the ground. I walked forward in a daze to admire the alien landscape spotted with glowing islands of color. Exotic animal cries filled the air along with the scent of heady blossoms. Delicately beautiful furniture filled the room, built of winding pieces of wood and softened with fabric in the same colors of the glowing plant life. A chandelier hung above us; a nebulous shape dripping glowing, pale pink tendrils. It looked alive, as if it would start moving at any second. It reminded me a little of the Castle of Eight in Faerie except that this was a touch more primitive and a whole lot more surreal; an impossible dream compared to an attainable fantasy.

  “Are you gonna gape at the view or help me find the Fates, Godhunter?” Momus growled.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  “Hey!” Trevor growled far better than Momus. “I get that you're concerned for the ladies, but you don't get to talk to my wife like that, especially since she's the best shot you have at finding them.”

  Momus clenched his jaw and nodded. “Sorry, Vervain.”

  “It's okay, Momus,” I said gently. “I'm worried about them too. It's just that this is a lot to ignore.” I waved at the scenery. “And I've got cat magic inside me; I can't help but be curious.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “Clotho outdid herself this time.”

  “Do you know where they were when they disappeared?” I asked him.

  “I think they were in their rooms.” Momus scowled. “I was watching TV in mine, and I came out for a snack. I realized that it was a little too quiet. I knocked on Lachesis' door, but she didn't answer. So, I peeped in but no one was inside. That was odd. They don't close their doors unless they're in their rooms. Then I checked on Clotho and Atropos, and they were gone too. I searched the whole tree and then that stupid forest.” He sighed deeply.

  “Okay.” I gave his shoulder a pat. “Trevor and I will look in their rooms first.”

  “Thanks,” Momus muttered. “This way.”

  Momus led us through a door to the left and into the enclosed areas of the home. A bright light came on to illuminate a normal hallway; normal except for the bare, rippling tree trunk that formed the inner wall. Doors lined the wall opposite the trunk; Momus passed a few that were open. Sitting rooms, a library, and an empty bedroom went by before he stopped at a closed door.

  “This is Clotho's room.” Momus opened the door and stepped aside.

  Clotho had taken the theme into her bedroom. Woven trunks formed a barrier around her bed with only a small, arched opening on one side. Within that cozy bower, a thick canopy of leaves hung over the moss-green mattress. Polished wood gleamed beneath woven rugs below with a wooden ceiling crossed by branch beams above. A teardrop lantern hung from the center of the ceiling with glass petals peeling back from its bright center. To the right, a delicate vanity of polished wood wound with living vines grew out of the floor and beside it, a couple of spindly chairs made a delicate sitting area. Doors bracketed the vanity and chairs.

  “Bathroom.” Momus pointed at the door on the left. “Dressing room.” He swiveled his finger toward the one on the right.

  I nodded distractedly. I was already inhaling deeply; matching the traces I found in the room with my memory of Clotho's scent. She was everywhere and there were other scents there too, but one I recognized as belonging to Momus and the other two were Clotho's sisters.

  “Narcissus hasn't been here,” I said. “I only smell Clotho, her sisters, and Momus.”

  “I get the same,” Trevor agreed. “No interlopers of any kind.”

  “Narcissus?” Momus asked. “What's he got to do with us? Isn't he trapped in a mirror?”

  “Not anymore.” I grimaced. “It's a long story. Someone else can fill you in while I look through the rest of the house.

  “Yeah, all right,” Momus agreed with a sour expression. “Lachesis' room is next door and then Atropos' is next to that.”

  “Okay, everyone stay with Momus,” I said. “Trevor and I will search the tree; it will be easier if we don't have to deal with other scents jumbled in.”

  Trevor and I went through the other bedrooms; both done in unique styles. Lachesis leaned more towards simple elegance and Atropos seemed to favor a lot of leather. I wasn't surprised that Atropos had once had a fling with Re. It looked as if they were into some of the same hobbies.

  There wasn't any trace of Narcissus in their bedrooms either. So, Trevor and I scoured the entire living space. It wagon-wheeled around the spoke of the Hometree trunk, full of things I would have enjoyed spending time admiring. But I didn't have time for that kind of exploring. I kept my senses focused on the Moirai's scents until we made our way back to the group of gods who waited for us in the open-air entry room.

  The other gods had filled Momus in while we were gone, and he looked sad and sedate; sitting on one of the couches between Amphitrite and Ariadne. The women were trying to console him, but a man like Momus doesn't take comfort in hope. He knew better than that. Momus lifted his gaze to mine as I entered the room with Trevor. One look at my expression, and he knew what I hadn't found.

  “They're dead, aren't they?” Momus asked despondently. “They're dead, and we're all fucked without them guarding the threads. It'll be a right up tangle now.”

  “Tangle,” I whispered. “That reminds me of something.”

  “The prophecy,” Dionysus said as his gaze shot over to me. “The one Silenus gave you at your wedding. Didn't he mention the threads?”

  “Yeah, that's right,” I confirmed. “He also warned me not to kill those rainbow gods and the bottled water goddess.”

  I looked over at Trevor, and he cursed.

  “What just happened there?” Dionysus stood and pointed at Trevor. “What's that about?”

  “One of the rainbow gods warned Narcissus that Vervain would be entering his mirror,” Trevor said.

  “We think he was the one who made sure that Re bought the Mirror in the first place,” I added.

  “And now, the Fates are missing.” Dionysus cursed and shared a worried look with his wife.

  “What the fuck does a prophecy about not killing gods have to do with the Fates?” Momus asked.

  “There was more to the prophecy,” I said. “It warned me not to take action but then there was something about the threads of Fate tangling.”

  “Let the threads of Fate lie untouched or they shall tangle,” Trevor qu
oted. “I'll never forget it; it gave me chills.”

  “Lie untouched,” I murmured. “We could be making more of this than we should. No one's touched the threads.”

  “No; they've only touched the Spinner, the Alotter, and the Unturnable,” Momus said; using the titles of the individual Fates.

  “It's another coincidence,” Azrael said, “and too many of those leads to conclusions. Qaus manipulated you into the Mirror and now, the Fates have disappeared. All of them are tied to you through the future and the threads. The prophecy is neither helpful nor harmful; it's too damn general to be of use simply for its meaning. The only bit that's beneficial is the second line it has drawn between you, those gods, and the Fates. Two coincidences equal one conclusion.”