by D. S. Murphy
“With what?” Jessie asked.
“When I left Nevah, I grabbed some jewelry.”
“You outlaw!” Jessie teased.
“I don’t like stealing,” I said. “But I didn’t think Able was going to miss some necklaces. And I didn’t know how I was going to get to you, or where we were heading after.”
“Easy, Machievelli. You don’t need to defend yourself to me.”
She wasn’t the one I was worried about. I didn’t want Sarah to get the idea that stealing was okay.
“We only take what we need, and only from those who can afford it. Deal?”
“Fine,” Jessie shrugged. “Buy me some Skittles if they have any.”
“I don’t think it’s that kind of store,” I said, pushing the door into the shop.” I was greeted by the sound of jangling bells. The interior was nothing like I expected. Incense and candles filled the space with smoky, flickering light. Though there was a small section for electronics and power tools, most of the store was filled with curiosities that looked like they belonged in a natural history museum.
“Whatchya got, honey?” a voice called. I looked up at the girl behind the counter. She was a few years older than me, with bright red hair, green eyes and dark eyebrows. Her face seemed to light up the small room, but it could have just been the light emanating from the jewelry case in the front counter. Some of the gems seemed to be positively glowing. I passed a shelf I hoped wasn’t full of shrunken heads and a case of multi-colored potion bottles. Definitely weird, but it was Seattle, after all.
I unzipped my bag, reaching for the necklaces I’d taken from Nevah, careful not to disturb the other items I was carrying. I’m not sure if it was illegal to be walking around with an antique sword, but I’m pretty sure the shotgun was not okay. I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself, or give her anything she could identify me with later.
One of the necklaces was stuck on something in the bottom of the bag. When I jerked it out, the sword nearly fell. I had the handle wrapped in a sweater, but it fell off when I caught it, revealing the hilt and sparkling gemstones on the sword Sitri had picked out for me.
Shit.
“Oh, that’s pretty” she said, reaching for the handle. I jerked back, flinching. So much for not drawing attention.
Her eyes widened, her hand frozen in mid-air.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’ve been jumpy lately. But the sword’s not for sale. I need some cash for these.” I dropped a couple of the stolen necklaces on the counter. I felt a twinge of guilt, but they had been left in my room. I figured they were gifts, and that Able had plenty of trinkets like this.
The girl switched on a lamp and took out a microscope. She held one of the necklaces up to the light and squinted at it.
“Perfect,” she said finally, “but boring.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, yeah it’s a natural sapphire necklace with flawless gem quality. But it’s not even enchanted.”
She giggled at the deer-in-headlights look on my face, but then pursed her lips and studied me further.
“Sorry, with that sword, and your torch friend out there,” she said, nodding through the windows to Puriel, “I just assumed you were a seeker.”
“A seeker?”
“Of magical artifacts.”
“Are you an heir?” I asked, using the term that meant a descendant of an immortal.
“Heaven’s no,” she giggled again. “All seekers are human. We don’t have any magic of our own, so we locate and trade in enchanted objects, spells and rituals.”
“Like a witch?” I asked.
She frowned at the term.
“You’re new at this, aren’t you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I only found out magic was real a few weeks ago.” I said.
“And you already have treasures like these?” she asked. “You wouldn’t believe what I had to do just to get a functional dowser or pendulum. Once you have one of those, the world is a constant treasure hunt. Though if a handsome torch wanted to give me some jewelry or a fancy sword in exchange for a little companionship, I wouldn’t turn it down. How is it having one for a lover, by the way? I’ve always wondered.”
“What? It’s not like that,” I said, my ears were burning.
“You mean he’s single?” she asked, leaning around me to get a better look at Puriel.
“Listen, right now I just need some cash. My friends and I are all out, we don’t even know where we’re sleeping tonight. Can you please just take the necklaces?”
“Sure, sweetie, no problem,” she said, but the friendliness was gone from her eyes. Oh well, I wasn’t here to make friends.
“I can give you $800,” she said.
“Each?” I asked hopefully.
“Altogether. Take it of leave it.”
I was sure I was getting ripped off, but I didn’t have a lot of options. And $800 should get us by for awhile. I nodded, and she started counting out bills from her register.
“Thank you,” I said, grabbing the cash and stuffing it in my pocket. I held her eyes for a moment longer than necessary, trying to silently communicate that I was sorry for snapping at her. She actually seemed pretty cool, and though I’d probably never see her again, I didn’t want her to think I was just some bitch.
“Be safe out there,” she said as I turned to leave.
Back on sidewalk, I gave some cash to Jessie and Sarah, in case we got split up. Then I fell in step with Puriel as we walked towards the financial district.
“So who is this guy, exactly?” I asked. “You called him a watcher earlier. What does he watch?”
“Everything and nothing,” Puriel said.
“Well that’s clear,” I said under my breath.
“It’s not like they have an official organization or anything,” Puriel said. “They do whatever they want, trading favors for more time.”
“Wait, they trade in time?” I asked. “How does that work?”
“It started a long time ago, with King Admetus. When Atropos cut his thread, Apollo, who was friends with the king, begged the Fates to undo their work. It was not in their power to do so, but they promised that if someone took Admetus’ place in the gloomy underworld, he would live again. The king’s wife, Alcestis, volunteered. But Hercules, who happened to be Admetus’ guest at the time, rescued her from the underworld, and Admetus and Alcetis were reunited.”
“Finally, a story with a happy ending,” I said.
“Based on that precedent,” Puriel continued, “some humans began hiring others to take their place in the underworld, thus postponing their own death indefinitely.”
“But who would do that?” I asked, horrified.
“There are plenty of desperate humans, willing to shorten their own lifespan in exchange for money, power, or their heart’s desire. Watchers keep an eye out for anyone at their weakest, in the hour of their greatest need. Then they’ll offer exactly what the person wants, in exchange for an agreed upon number of years. Over many centuries, they discovered that knowledge had its own value. So they collected secrets, gathering wealth and power to themselves. Most of them have thousands of years stockpiled.”
I had a bad feeling about this. It sounded too much like those stories about signing your soul over to the devil.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked.
“It’s a place to start,” Puriel answered. “We lose nothing if he can’t help us. You just need to be careful. Watchers are tricky, and they don’t give up anything without a price. You just need to make sure you don’t offer more than you’re willing to give.”
I felt a chill as we passed into the shade of a gleaming silver skyscraper. Sebastian nodded towards it, and we entered through the revolving door. The lobby was all glass walls and red couches. Men in gray suits crisscrossed the polished marble floors. We rode an elevator to the top floor. Sarah’s eyes lit up as it started moving, and I wondered if she’d ever been in one before. A women in
a black business suit and horn-rimmed glasses greeted us in front of the company logo. It looked like an infinity symbol.
Her smile faltered when she looked directly at Puriel and saw his smoldering eyes, but she pressed on bravely.
“Welcome to The Foundation,” she said. “What can I help you with?”
“We’re here to see Jadius,” Puriel said, his low voice rumbling.
“Mr. Mustafa has meetings all day, can I tell him what it’s regarding?”
“Tell him I’m looking to make a deal on a very limited edition item,” Puriel said.
She went back to her phone. We caught pieces of her hushed conversation, then she hurried back to us.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, let me escort you in.”
She led us down a hallway and through a pair of double doors. It opened into a wide room with floor to ceiling windows and a panoramic view of the city.
“You can see the space needle from here!” Sarah said, heading straight for the window.
Couches and desks were spread out generously along the windows. In the center of the room was an enormous hourglass. It looked like it was made of solid gold, but when I stepped closer, I could see that it was filled with tiny gold flakes. They sifted through the curved class and tumbled down to the pile of gold at the bottom.
“100 pounds of pure gold dust,” a man said, joining us. His black hair was tinged with gray, though his face was tan and youthful.
“With the current price of gold, it’s worth $1,798,158, and 65 cents… but who’s counting?” Jadius beamed a wide smile, flashing a set of teeth so perfect they looked unnatural. Then he slapped Puriel on the arm and gestured us over to a row of couches.
“Good to see you again, my old friend. Though I won’t say I’m surprised by your visit.” His gold watch jingled as he signaled his assistant—a young Asian man—to bring us some coffee. His suit was impeccably pressed, and he had on a bold red tie that stood out against the dark fabric. Close up, I could see he had a trace of dark stubble, like he hadn’t shaved in days, but it was carefully groomed and obviously intentional.
“You were expecting us?” I asked, suddenly tense.
“Not you, darling. I have no idea who you are. But one of these guys usually makes it to my office whenever things heat up. There’s been a lot of activity lately. Some chatter. Figured one of them might come looking for information. I didn’t think it would be you specifically, Puriel. It must be serious if you’re here. Though there’s something different about you this time. Let me see, what is it… the suit? The hair? Don’t tell me. Ah, I see it now. You’ve lost your wings. Recently, too, from the look of it.”
Puriel frowned as the assistant returned with a tray of espresso in small white cups. He even had a hot chocolate for Sarah, and handed it to her with a smile.
“Now unfortunately,” Jadius continued, crossing his legs, “that may change the nature of our business a little. See, previously you had a lot more to offer. You’d waltz in here with your golden uniforms and a team of six hunters, and between you, you’d give me a few centuries worth of years. It meant nothing to you, because you lot live so long anyway. But now...” he said, looking Puriel over and shaking his head in disapproval.
“Torches also live a long time,” Puriel said.
“Not all years are the same,” said Jadius. “It’s about quality. Value. After all, I may not use them for myself, I may trade some with my friends. Often a few years of something unmistakably fresh and distinct is better than another century of monotony. When you’ve lived as long as I have, there’s nothing really new to experience in life, other than the experience itself. Putting on a few refreshing years of someone else’s life is like donning a pair of rose-colored glasses. Frankly, I’m a little sick of hunter years. I use them up during slow periods when nothing else is going on. They’re unimaginative. Torch years, however, are nearly unbearable. You guys are so depressed all the time, so solemn, it sucks all the joy out of life. Angel years are like cocaine, you feel invincible but don’t actually do anything productive. Demon years are like heroin. The soul-crushing beauty of self-destruction, regret and longing.”
I sat up a little straighter in my chair. Did he just call Puriel a demon?
“Plus I have a ton of them already. You wouldn’t believe how many torches come here begging for me to take away a few years to shorten their suffering. So you see, you may not have arrived with much to bargain with, but why don’t you let me know what you need first, and we can negotiate afterwards.”
“We’re looking for a pair of golden shears,” I said, leaning forward. “They belonged to the Fates, the Moirai. Any clue to where the Fates would have hidden them? Or where the Fates themselves are hiding? The last trace of them before they disappeared... anything could be helpful.”
It sounded ridiculous to say it out loud. I thought Jadius was going to laugh at me. He kept grinning, looking between me and Puriel.
“Is she serious?” he asked.
Puriel nodded.
“The weapon that Zeus has been after for a few thousand years. The weapon that would end the stalemate and bring us all into open war again. Even if I had any idea about something like that, what makes you think I’d give it up, to some teenage girl?”
“Because,” Puriel said, “she may be the only person who can actually use them.”
He nodded towards my gloves, and I peeled them off slowly, displaying the dark red band that cut around my wrist. I’d always been embarrassed by it. It looked like I’d tried to cut my whole hand off or something. According to Able, however, it meant I’d been chosen by the Fates.
“Do you recognize the mark?” Puriel asked.
Jadius leaned closer and reached for my hand. I pulled it away before he could touch my skin, then shoved my hands back into the safety of my gloves. I had enough on my plate already, without the accidental discovery of Jadius’s death on my conscious.
“The scarlet thread,” he sighed softly. “Well that does explain a lot. If you’re here, Zeus must be getting frantic. Unfortunately, however, I never involve myself with politics. It’s bad for business.”
“You’re already involved,” I said. “Zeus wants to take all magic out of the world, control everything. As long as Able and the others resist him, he can’t have total control, but how long do you think your little operation would last if Zeus gets even more powerful? He’d continue to clean up all traces of magic. It seems like you’re operating in a very gray area. Once he stamped out the big stuff, he’d focus on the small stuff, like how you’re cheating death by dealing favors to humans.”
“You seem to forget that my little operation depends on trading secrets and information. I thrive in the conflict. If either side actually won the war, I’d be out of business. Plus, if I do help you now, I’d almost certainly be punished for it by Zeus later.”
“Unless we win,” I said.
“Unless you win,” he repeated, stroking his chin. He stood and paced in front of the windows, looking out over the city with his arms behind his back.
“Many writers, including Ovid and Aeschylus, questioned whether Zeus has less power than the Fates. The conclusion was that even he could not escape the destiny they foretold. Just before they disappeared, the Fates gave Zeus a prophecy. There would be a time when sea and land and heaven’s high palaces in sweeping flames should burn, and down should fall the beleaguered bastions of the universe.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Jessie said.
“Why are you telling us this?” Puriel asked.
“It seems to me,” Jadius said, “that the course of action you’re on will waken slumbering giants. We haven’t had any earth-shattering battles for thousands of years. If you get what you want, whether or not you win, the consequences will be severe. Even if you succeed, the fallout may be worse than you imagine.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he saying, if we provoked Zeus into an open fight, we were risking the whole worl
d? Would it be better to just go somewhere and hide out, live quiet lives somewhere, put all this behind us? If we did that, Zeus’s hunters would keep picking off magical creatures one by one, until there were none left. And besides, I hadn’t actually commited to using the shears yet. Maybe I wouldn’t have to. Maybe just having them would be enough to negotiate a cease-fire, or at least protect my friends.
“Consider us warned,” I said. “So can you help us or not?
“I can’t give you the shears, but I think I may know where to look,” Jadius said, locking his fingers together. “However, there’s still the matter of my payment.”
“What do you want?” I asked cautiously.
“Did you know that the Fates were singers?” Jadius said, changing the subject. “According to Plato, Lachesis sings the way things were, Klotho sings the way things are, and Atropos sings the way things will be.”
“And this matters why?” Jessie said.
“Well, normally I wouldn’t give up something this valuable for anything less than one thousand years.” Jadius said, letting the number sink in. “However given your unique abilities, I’m willing to make a very particular wager. Not on what you’re able to do now, but on what you might be able to do later. Living forever has its perks, but seeing that much time, the grains of dust are always moving downwards. You only have one chance, one opportunity to do everything right. Every choice you’ve ever made creates an inalterable chain of events. After a thousand years, all those experiences, all of those opportunities missed, add a tremendous gravity. Imagine being able to go back and do one small thing that changes the fate of the world. You could watch empires rise and fall, and build fortunes overnight.”
For some reason, I thought about my brother. What if I could go back and change what happened—the moment that changed everything, and ultimately ended up with me locked in JDRI. Would I go back and fix it, if I could?
“Time travel? Really?” Jessie scoffed.
“It might be impossible, sure,” Mr. Williams said. “Or it might not be. But if the stories are true, you can already see glimpses of the future. What if you could see more of it? Such information, in the right hands, could be priceless. So I’ll help you find the shears, and you’ll owe me a favor. If you don’t develop any new powers, simply telling me the manner of my death will satisfy our agreement. I trust you’re capable of that?”