lily harper - complete series, page 197
Nicholas shrugged as he pulled a cell phone out of his apron. “Given the extent to which Alaire has corrupted Afterlife Enterprises, how could they not?”
I noted how Perenelle had placed the first phone on the coffee table before pulling another one out of her apron. “Then why didn't they come here first?”
“In point of fact, they did,” Jung said while putting away his watch. “But they found nothing.”
“Whoa, whoa, hold on!” Bill exclaimed, holding up his hand, which Mantis took as a sign to jump on. “I know you didn't finish sanitiming-out everything until a couple of minutes ago. So how—”
“You recall how the front door can open a variety of locations?” Perenelle smoothly interjected, gesturing towards the entrance in question. Nicholas had placed his phone next to the one on the coffee table.
“Aye,” Tallis said.
Some of Perenelle’s carefree whimsy came out in her smile. “Well then, it is likely no surprise to you that such a doorway can work in both directions.”
The full implications hit me right away. “They stepped into a fake apartment.”
Jung held up his finger and shook his head. “It would be more accurate to say a facsimile thereof. Everything that was present in the apartment before our arrival was duplicated in that particular space.”
By then, Nicholas had put down his second cell phone and pulled out something small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. He began attaching it to the base of the phone.
“With one critical exception, of course... the duplicated items have none of your personal energies attached to them,” he said. “This led them to the understandable but erroneous conclusion that you had already fled.”
“A conclusion supported by equally falsified surveillance?” Asterion asked.
“Oui, Monsieur Asterion,” Perenelle said with a delighted laugh. “When they return to this domicile a second time, all they shall find is the markings of our handiwork. Thus the dearth of clues shall remain exactly the same.”
I grunted. “So, another Polly touch?”
“Actually,” Doctor Jung said with a raised finger. “You owe the decoy’s existence to Frau Thalia. We were informed she has had this arranged ever since your last official Soul Retriever expedition.”
Bill nodded while rubbing his belly. “Yeah, makes sense. Sally always was the little artiste-tidor.”
I bit my lower lip as I thought of how much the sisters had helped us. Every step of the way. We all owed them so much… more than we could ever repay. “I’ve yet to say thank you all for all this—for everything you’re doing. No matter what you say, I know you’re taking a big risk.”
My doctor shrugged while holding the carpetbag next to his thighs. “I believe I speak for the Flammels, Fraulein Harper, when I say you and your companions are worth such a risk.”
Nicholas chuckled as he put the little piece on the final phone. “Well-spoken, Doctor. Now a final gift for you...”
The Flammels handed over the modified cellphones to Bill, Tallis, Asterion and me. The things at the base turned out to be small square dongles, marked by a staff with a pair of serpents around them.
Bill tapped the dongle. “This some kind of healing app?”
Perenelle shook her head. “A Trismegistus scrambler... it will make listening in or tracking any of your calls much more difficult.”
“I notice you didn’t use the word ‘impossible’,” I said while looking my new phone over.
“For that, I would recommend removal of the battery,” Nicholas said. “No matter how sophisticated the technology, no cellular phone can be tracked without a power source.”
“Alright, this is all well an’ good,” Tallis said, pocketing his new phone. “But there’s nae a place in Edinburgh that is safe for us now.”
“Frau Thalia already has the doorway programmed to your next point of refuge,” Doctor Jung assured him while opening the door. The bright light beyond it was more than just the glare of the morning sun.
“Well, if we got everything we need here...” Bill said, looking at us.
I nodded. “Our old clothes in the bedroom.”
Nicholas nodded back and went to retrieve them while I took the lead towards the door.
As he did, Doctor Jung snapped his fingers and said, “Oh, I nearly forgot!” Reaching into the carpetbag, he pulled out a carton of unfiltered Camel cigarettes. Setting the bag down, he reached for his pen and wrote something on one of the ends.
“Have to admit, Doctor,” Tallis said in wonder. “That’s nae the kind of prescription Ah’m used to.”
“That would be because it is anything but,” Jung said as he handed the carton to me. “It is more along the lines of a... passport to your next destination.”
“What, a smoker’s bar?” Bill asked with a chuckle.
The doctor pursed his lips and tilted his head. “That is actually a very close guess, Herr Bill.”
I took a peek at what he’d written. Given the messiness of the handwriting, I was thinking it was his signature. “Whatever it is, we’ll find out as soon as we get there. So let’s go, guys.”
Before I stepped through, I whispered to Bill, “A fake apartment... never would have thought Sally could be that deviously creative.”
“She only acts like a bubblehead, Nips,” Bill whispered back. “It’s how come she and Polly make such a good team.”
I could relate. I had a pretty good team stepping through the door with me.
FIVE
ASTERION
By necessity, I’ve spent a great deal of my existence—I could hardly define it as a “life”—constantly looking for danger. It matters little if I wear my full human shape or that of the half-bull. Both have their strengths and vulnerabilities, which must be accounted for at all times. So the moment we came out of the portal, I was already assessing the threats.
The place we stepped into was unknown to me.
It required only half a whiff and the telltale prickling of my skin to tell me we were once again outside the Earthen realm. Despite this, the décor of this club and the fashions of everyone within it bore the markings of a previous period in that realm’s history.
Tables dominated most of the room as did a great deal of shadows. They worked to obscure the faces of the patrons, whose attention was solely focused on a brightly-lit circular stage to our right. The men wore three-piece suits, but they were made of bulkier material than the sleek ones of the Underground City. The women’s evening dresses had more in common with current fashion in their skimpiness and sequins. The major exception to this came from the passing waitresses, who were clad in abbreviated tuxedos with top hats, the pants legs removed to show off their legs. Several of them offered drinks and cigarettes on mounted boxes, secured by straps around their shoulders.
While nothing overtly dangerous presented itself, I found myself wishing I was the one on point. When I stand with a group, I insist on such, as I’m usually the tallest and largest, and thus, the best suited for it. This is especially true if there are any women within said group, especially those for whom I have developed feelings. But I knew Lily never would have stood for such and rightly so. Though none of us have ever said so aloud, she was our leader. And true leaders always fulfill their roles from the front.
A band of musicians, grouped around the stage like a besieging army surrounding a fortified city, began to play a merry tune. The light allowed me to see that their instruments were mostly brass. However, there was also the occasional flute, a drummer to the far left and a piano directly behind the stage itself. A heavyset woman in a slinky, blue-sequined dress began to join in with her song. It was a suggestive ballad of a lover sleeping with a younger woman to the ignorance of his wife. While I was uncertain if this was jazz or rhythm and blues, the raw feeling and power of her voice was undeniable. Only an audience who understood such misery could appreciate such entertainment.
I had become aware of all of this before a pair of large shapes suddenly stepped in front of us. A dim circular light began to shine over our heads, enough to see without disturbing the patrons. The shapes stepped into the light to reveal themselves as men with a foot more in height than I. One had black skin to the point of nearly being midnight blue, a contrast to his impeccable white suit. The other had a fairer complexion, but still had swarthy skin that nearly blended in with the darker colors of his own suit. From what I could see under their bulky jackets, even their muscles seemed to have muscles.
The swarthy one put a hand on my chest, which he used to give me a slight push. “It seems to me someone has come to the wrong club.”
The moment we locked eyes, I knew who he was. I let a bit of the bull show in my gaze as I said, “In that same vein, son of Zeus, it seems to me that Ares is challenging the wrong person.”
Ares attempted to take another step but white-suit blocked him with an arm on his chest. “You know the rules,” he said to the Hellene god of war, speaking in a rich accent that sounded vaguely French. “Only if they attack first.”
“Did you not just hear him, Ogun?” Ares snapped at his compatriot.
Ignoring the question, he looked down at Lily. “You were given something to deliver, mademoiselle?”
She held up the carton the doctor had handed her. I could just make out his signature on the end she was holding up. “With all the cigarettes floating around, I’m not sure why I’ve got this.”
Ogun leaned over to scrutinize the signature closely. “He says they don’t taste the same,” he replied, tracing a finger across the signature. Nodding, he added, “He’s waiting in the office.”
“Which is where...?” Bill asked in an exasperated tone that, for once, I didn’t blame him for. Ogun gave a meaningful glance to Ares, who reluctantly pointed towards the other side of the room. It was as gloomy as the spot we stood upon, but I could just make out a flight of stairs. The light over our heads faded as the two guards parted to let us pass. To be safe, I stayed in the rear and kept glancing over my shoulder. In our mutual heyday, Ares had a habit of answering slights with the overwhelming violence that was his trademark.
Still entranced by the music onstage, the patrons had noticed nothing of our drama at the door. In fact, the singer had just finished with her song, prompting a great deal of enthusiastic applause. Taking all this in, I came to a realization. “We’re standing in a speakeasy.”
Lily glanced back at me in surprise. “You actually know about those? Seems way after your time.”
I shrugged as the applause died down and the next musical number began. “Coatlique spoke of such things during my time in the Arena.” I felt my eyes get distant at the memories. “Stories to pass the time and forget the pain.”
Bill’s face grew thoughtful as he put a gentle hand on my stomach. Had he been tall enough, I was certain he would have taken my hand. “How long were you down there, yo?”
“Far too long,” I said, the only truthful answer I knew. “In a place where hours seem like days and months like centuries, time has no true meaning.”
The stage light caught enough of Tallis’ face to highlight a conflicted expression upon it. While he was certainly—perhaps even rightly—suspicious of my intentions with Lily, he felt a sympathetic ache to my hardship. Not for the first time, I found myself wishing there was a way I could convince him that I was his friend rather than his rival. But I had entertained that same hope with Prince Theseus so long ago. It had not ended well.
We finally came upon the flight of stairs. As there were no other egresses in sight, Lily mounted the stairs with the same determination I’d see her show in battle. As if in response to her spirit, the kerosene-style lamps on the wall lit up as she drew near them. I felt my heart swell with the genuine love I truly felt for her. Not Sorcha, her. It occurred to me that Bill and Tallis both loved her in their own ways but with just as much force. Yet, she was so wracked by a lifetime of insecurities and doubts, she was kept from seeing herself as we did. And that truth pained me. It had been the central flaw of Ariadne, for whom I still mourned. If it was within my power, I would steer Lily away from that Cretan princess’ ignoble fate.
A simple four-panel wooden door awaited us at the top. Tallis chose that moment to cut ahead of Lily, holding up his hand to forestall her inevitable protest. He was a far braver man than me for being so presumptuous.
As he raised his knuckle to knock on the door, a familiar voice called out, “Can we please skip the formalities so I can smoke one of those cigarettes already?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that declaration. Archangels are well known for their patience. But even they sometimes prefer to just get on with certain matters. The door opened on its own, revealing a plush office of the same period as the club below. There was even a twin to the door directly across from us on the opposite wall.
Rich but tasteful crimson wallpaper surrounded us, yellow swirls within it that flowed and moved providing contrast. The floor was of a dark hardwood, offset by a large emerald rug in the central position between the doors and the wall-length windows to our left. A series of lamps that matched the ones on the stairs adorned the walls, casting a soft but penetrating light around us. And standing next to a desk roughly the size of Ares and Ogun put together, looking down at the stage below through the windows, stood the archangel Uriel.
He seemed more himself than the last time we had seen him. His previously gaunt cheeks had filled, though they remained thin. His skin had a healthy glow about it that contrasted with the long black hair that hung from his shoulders. I even fancied seeing a bit of celestial light coming from his aura as he turned around. Of course, that could have just been the plain gold robe he had opted to wear, which seemed to magnify the lamplight back to us.
He smiled broadly as the door shut behind us. Perhaps being sensitive to his old mentor’s moods, Bill held out his hand to Lily and wiggled his fingers. Our unofficial leader wasted no time in handing him the carton, which the gold bug, Mantis, took from her while standing on Bill’s head. Flapping its wings, the living weapon proceeded to hover over its owner before flying to Uriel, presenting the carton as though it were a royal gift. Uriel accepted the carton with the gratitude of a parched man taking a glass of water.
He tore open the signed end of the carton, pulled out the closest pack, ripped off the cellophane on top and fished out one of the cigarettes. All this, he did in the blink of an eye. But once the cigarette was in his mouth and he had lit the tip with a glowing index finger, he took his time inhaling the resulting smoke. By that point, Mantis had since returned to Bill’s shoulder, where the latter was caressing the former like a house pet.
“Good bug,” he told it, making it wiggle its wings in delight.
Exhaling a stream of smoke out his nose, Uriel commented, “Excellent indeed, William. My compliments to Doctor Jung for his impeccable taste in tobacco.”
Lily scratched the back of her head. “Look, far be it for me to question an archangel…”
Uriel gave her a dismissive wave with his cigarette hand. “Ask what you will, Herald. You have more than earned the right.”
Having secured permission, Lily suddenly seemed at a loss as to what to say. But gradually she said, “It’s just... I can’t get over your love of tobacco. That stuff kills you.”
“If you are able to die,” Uriel hummed. “Anything taken in excess—which you Americans excel at—is always a bad thing, ultimately.” He then held up the cigarette, the glowing tip an effective substitute for an index finger. “Among the native tribes of your land, this herb was once considered sacred. Sharing a pipe of it was considered a mark of respect, even friendship.”
As if to underscore this last point, the former Archangel of Death floated across the room until he stood before Lily. The wings on his back did nothing to aid in this float. The extended cigarette in his hand was meaningful enough for her to deduce what he was proposing. She reached up a hand but hesitated before taking it.
With his free hand caressing her forearm, Uriel said in a soothing tone, “You are far past the need to worry on such life-ending threats as cancer. Even if not, one puff would not kill you.”
Lily nodded and found the courage to take the cigarette. Putting the burning herb to her lips, she inhaled deeply and immediately began coughing and choking on it. Despite being bent over, she somehow retained her firm grip on the cigarette between her fingers. Once she had straightened herself out enough, she passed the cigarette to Tallis. He inhaled it with the practiced ease of a person who had done this several times. It was then passed to me, and I took it in with similar gusto. It then went to Bill, who seemed to enjoy the taste the most out of all of us.
Once Bill passed it back to Uriel, his mentor prompted put the barely burnt cigarette out on his other open palm. That made his protégé frown and remark, “Seems like a waste of a perfectly good smoker’s hit, yo.”
“Its purpose was served, William,” Uriel said, floating back towards the desk. “Our own bond of respect and friendship has been affirmed.” Once he was close enough to the desk, he dropped the spent cigarette into a crystal ashtray that suddenly appeared at the corner. I noticed the telephone of ancient design next to it, consisting of an earpiece attached to a wire while the stand had the speaking part within it.
Tallis looked around the moving wallpaper. “Ah was certain Ah knew every nook an’ cranny in the Oonderground City. But in all me time, Ah never have seen this place.”
“That would be because the Pantheon Club is not part of the Underground City,” Uriel said, turning to face us again. “It sits on the border of Limbo, which puts it out of reach of... certain interested parties.”
“Then this is a safe place to stay?” I asked. While I imagined this would be a question Lily, herself, would ask, she was still busy clearing out her throat from the smoking ritual.
Uriel shook his head. “Regrettably, son of Pasiphae, any safety we find here is a fleeting one at best. The old gods who call this place both home and playground are formidable enough to discourage casual incursions. But should sufficient forces come to call, even they can be felled.” His face became sad and his eyes distant. “Poor Pan learned that lesson far too late.”
