"You do?" Ruby looked at Stevie doubtfully. "New York’s a big place. He could be anywhere, the sneaky bastard."
"Yeah, but he’s not. He’s at a bar just around the corner, getting plastered and taking shit he shouldn’t touch with a bargepole." Stevie parked herself on a seat by the bar and ordered a double whisky.
"Right." Ruby got up determinedly. "So where’s this bar?"
Sure enough, sitting at a corner table in a dark and smoky bar a short walk away from Madison Square Gardens, they found Orpheus. Stevie was right - Orpheus wasn’t just drunk, he was very drunk - and his pupils were pinpoints.
Ruby groaned. "Not again!"
Baldur looked at her, then at Orpheus, a dawning understanding in his eyes, and something else.
"Hiya. Pull up a stool."
Orpheus waved vaguely towards a neighbouring table where three bar stools sat empty. Baldur pulled them over, and the trio sat down awkwardly. Ruby plonked herself opposite her man, and glared accusingly.
""You were going to stick around to meet my friends, remember? What the hell are you doing here?"
Baldur put a cool hand on her shoulder.
"It does not matter. Here is as good as anywhere. You were incredible out there, my friend - I should congratulate you. I have never heard such music - and I knew Mozart in his prime."
Orpheus blinked.
"Mozart? Say what? Well, I’m no Mozart. Glad you enjoyed the show, though. So, uh, introduce me, baby?"
Ruby cleared her throat.
"This is Green, and this is her boyfriend Baldur." Green flinched at the term ‘boyfriend’ - like Baldur was some average guy she was dating - but Baldur just smiled sunnily, as usual. ‘And this is Baldur’s brother Hodr. He," she said with a touch of spite, "slept right through the gig."
"Really, man?" Orpheus’ long, slightly uptilted eyes focused on Hodr, and he beamed a slow, utterly charming grin. When you saw him smile like that, Green thought, you could see why the teenage girls swooned. Most rock stars cultivated a sultry look, as if their undies were too tight for them - but Orpheus was drop-dead gorgeous, and with that lazy, brilliant smile, he was irresistible.
"No, no, it is just that I wear these sunglasses," Hodr objected. "They think I am asleep but I am wide awake. I will buy the CD, no question. You are very good."
"I’m very rich, anyway," Orpheus agreed with a wry grin. Green’s brows rose - this wasn’t exactly the kind of remark she’d expected from the tortured artist.
"Don’t give me that shit," Ruby exclaimed, batting his ear. "You don’t care about the money."
Orpheus smiled again, and took a long pull at his whiskey. He turned to Hodr.
"You’re blind...that sucks, man. How long?"
"I was born blind," Hodr said in his strange accent, composite Scandinavian and something indefinable. "So I have been blind forever."
Orpheus sat forward, his interest evidently piqued.
"So with you it’s just the music, huh? It must be better that way - without all the lights and the sexy gear and shit distracting you, right?"
Hodr scratched his beard and smiled his sweet, sad smile.
"You move people," he said shortly. "The music, it is not my kind, but you play well, and your voice is a gift."
"You mean you didn’t dig my stuff." Orpheus waved at the barmaid for a round of drinks, and leaned so far back Green thought he was going to fall off his seat. "I can tell. When people come up to me after my shows normally they’re all over the place, some of them can’t even speak. Is it me? I don’t know...it never used to be like this. I mean, back when I started, people liked what I was doing, no question. But then the whole thing took off. I still don’t know why. People go mad."
"I take it," Baldur remarked, sipping a vodka on ice, "you don’t believe your own legend."
Orpheus gazed fixedly at Baldur, his eyes widening as he took in the perfect features and shining silver white hair. He wasn’t gay - but for this guy he might almost turn. And there was a glow. He was sure there was a glow. What did Ruby say about Green's boyfriend being some kind of alien? He hadn't believed a word of it, at the time, but...
"I know I’m good, man," he drawled. "I’m just not that good."
"But you are!" Ruby flung an arm around the leather-clad shoulders, forgetting her annoyance. "You’re fucking brilliant."
"To be fucking honest, I’m scared," said the rock star. "What happens when they don’t love me anymore? I can’t go back. I can’t go back," he repeated, looking into the bottom of his glass as if he expected it to contain the answer in a short note. Ruby’s lips pressed tightly together. She’d seen him in this mood before - but why now? Why did it have to be now - when she was trying to convince her best friends that everything was alright? She glanced in apology at Green, who shook her head.
"I think you have someone who will always love you," Baldur said, holding the dazed blue eyes. "And your music, it will be remembered, like Mozart is remembered, like Hendrix, like Lennon."
Ruby grabbed the whiskey out of Orpheus’ hand and downed it in one gulp.
"He's just tired, aren't you, Orph. He keeps seeing these chicks in his dreams." she said, stroking his cheek. "A tall chick with red hair, isn't that right? And a brunette, and another who’s kind of - plain, yeah?”
"Yeah, I guess." Orpheus ran one hand absently up Ruby’s dress, temporarily distracted from his existential angst. "The plain one, I wouldn’t fuck her but I wouldn’t fuck with her either. She’s...like a buffalo. But the one with the long red hair, she’s hot. I’d definitely fuck her...I mean, not now I’ve got you, baby, but.... Weird dreams, man."
"So these...chicks...what do they say, in your dreams?" asked Green curiously.
"They don’t say nothing, man," Orpheus scratched his fingers through his hair, catching a snarl. "But I get the feeling they’re kind of looking after me. Only not like they really give a shit - more like they’re my managers and they’re only interested in the money. Maybe I got demon managers, up there in the fucking sky."
"What do they say when you get high?" Baldur asked coolly. Orpheus slid off his chair and pushed his glass away in a sudden temper.
"They don’t say shit - and I don’t give a fuck. What’s the use of being the biggest fucking rock star the world has ever seen if you can’t get high? I get the best, man - the fucking ultimate. Here, you want something? Cocaine? Crack? Amphetamines? I can get it for you with one snap of my fingers. Tell me what you want, I’ll get it, then we can all get high."
Ruby grabbed his arm.
"Orph, we talked about this. You’re fucking yourself up."
"I’m having a good time. You want to stop me having a good time - what are you, my mother?"
"Trust me," Ruby leaned in, uncharacteristically serious. "you don’t want to join the 27 Club."
"Who says I don’t wanna join the 27 Club? It’s a pretty damn exclusive club, who wouldn’t wanna be a member? It can’t last, baby, that’s what I’m trying to tell you - it can’t last. Someday real soon this bubble is going to pop and then the whole world’ll be saying, what happened to that Orpheus dude, I heard he died or got a job in Kentucky Fried or something. And then they won’t even remember to ask."
"It doesn’t matter what they say." Baldur reached across to briefly clasp Orpheus’ shoulder. "Imagine the music those men and women could have made, those in the ’27 Club’ if they had lived. Hold on to what you have - you will survive fame."
Orpheus pushed his drink away and staggered to his feet.
"Yeah man, whatever. Look, I don’t want to be rude, it’s been great meeting you all and everything, but I gotta go - I got people waiting for me back at the apartment. You’re all welcome to come along - just don’t come all righteous about the drugs, ok? You can’t have rock n roll without the fucking rock n roll lifestyle, ok?"
"I thank you," Hodr spoke up gruffly, "but Fafnir is waiting for me. She is not used to being left alone."
Back at the suite, Gree
n paced around the living area, ignoring the spectacular view of city lights.
"This isn’t working out the way we thought it would. He’s not coping, and it’s tearing Ruby apart. I know I’m the one who came up with the idea - but isn’t there some way of helping him? We can’t just leave him to the wolves like this. Did you hear what he said? He thinks your aunts are like managers - who don’t give a shit about him."
"He is right. If immortals truly cared for humans, they would not be able to play the Game," Baldur explained with a wry smile. "The children of farmers are told not to give names to the livestock - it is like this, with us and your kind."
"I hate that," said Green, her voice thick with loathing. "Sometimes I wish you’d all just leave us alone."
Chapter 23
Ruby stared morosely down at her high heeled boots, legs stretched out in front of her.
"I don’t know what to do."
Green handed her a gin and tonic. She sipped it, making a face as if it was medicine.
"You think he’s addicted?" It was obvious that whatever Orpheus was on, he couldn’t stay away from it. The night had ended with Orpheus calling his dealer and then disappearing in a black limousine - where, even Ruby didn’t know. She’d ended up knocking on the door of their suite at three am, in desperation, and sleeping on the couch, her long legs hanging off the end like a spider with sex appeal.
"I think he’s trying to kill himself," Ruby said hopelessly. "He keeps talking about how it won’t last, and how the music’s not really in him, it comes from somewhere else. He thinks wherever it comes from, they’re going to take it right back any day now - and he’ll be standing on stage with his guitar, ready to sing, and it’ll just - go." She fixed Green with anxious eyes. "These women he sees in his dreams - are they real?"
Green looked down, fiddling with the shortbread biscuit she’d got from the minibar. It promptly fell apart. This was all her fault. "They might be," she admitted. "But Orpheus has real talent, it’s not just something that someone can give and then take away. Not even goddesses."
"Tell that to him." Ruby slugged the remainder of the drink, and wiped her mouth, smudging her lipstick. "Now he can afford all the drugs he wants, and you name it, he’s hooked on it. He’s going downhill fast - I don’t know how much longer they’re going to be able to get him up there on stage, anyway – his real managers I mean, never mind the chicks in his dreams. You know we met when Orph was just a one hit wonder in Memphis, trying to get into the scene, trying to make it? Well I almost wish he hadn’t made it. At least he’d be clean of this stupid shit."
Should she tell her the truth? Probably not. Would it really make Ruby feel better to know that if Orpheus died of an overdose tomorrow, the rest of the world was going to follow him in just…what was it, thirty two weeks now? No, it wouldn’t. Though it was funny, you kind of got used to impending death, in a way. It was like normal dying - but foreshortened.
"You’ve got to get him to rehab, somehow - somewhere where he can rest up and be away from the drugs for a while and get his shit together," she suggested, pulling Ruby into a hug. Sobs racked her slight body: her mascara dripped down her cheeks in macabre rivulets. Green had hardly ever seen her cry before.
"I’ve tried. He won’t go to rehab. I told you, he thinks he’s going to die - and I think he’s going to die, too, and I love him. For fuck’s sake, I love him, and this is so, so fucking hard to watch."
Green cradled her, rocking instinctively. There had to be something the immortals could do.
"I’ll talk to Baldur," she said, stroking Ruby’s spiky white hair. "He’ll help, I know he will."
But Baldur was not particularly helpful.
"Orpheus is right," he said, with his customary, maddening serenity. "He is very gifted, yes - but one day the goddesses will cast their eyes elsewhere, and all that he has will be gone. That is the nature of fame. Even Mozart died young. They nearly all die young."
Sometimes, Green had an urge to punch him.
"But I care about him. I care about Ruby a lot and that means I care about Orpheus - and even if I didn’t care about him, personally - doesn’t this whole plan mean that Orpheus has to survive?"
"He will probably survive - for as long as it takes. My aunts will not let him die before his time."
Green reached up and shook him by the shoulders.
"Do you really not care? Is it ok with you if Orpheus kills himself with drugs - as long as he lasts until the Game ends?"
Baldur took her tense face between his hands, gentle. Green’s glare softened.
"I care. My aunts do not. The drugs are not part of their plan but - as long as Orpheus collects souls, for Isis and for Ishtar and even for Artemis, they don’t mind how he amuses himself. I understand his distress - it is hard being the instrument of a god, and my father’s lyre is a burden for any man."
"Then ask your mother to take the lyre back! If it’s killing him."
"If it would save him, I would. But there is something else at work here. With Ishtar’s sexual appeal, Isis’ intelligence, Artemis’ primal force - and his own talent - he should be rising on the wave of his career - not falling into the pit. You have to remember, nothing you humans do is of your own accord - unless we allow it to be so. You are always under the influence of one god or another."
"Because we’re pieces in a Game," said Green, eyeing him belligerently.
"Yes," he said sadly. "The question is not ‘if’ you are being influenced, it is ‘by whom?’"
"Then who’s influencing Orpheus to destroy himself? Ishtar? Isis? Artemis? They need him."
"Who has an interest in seeing Orpheus die young? Who would want him to fail, before he even begins to succeed? Who likes to drive his victims to seek their own destruction? Do you really need to ask?"
"Set." Green chewed on a fingernail. She could never be bothered to go get a file - after all, what else were teeth for?
"We are in the endgame now," said Baldur. "We have our warrior - Orpheus - and Set has his - Demetrios, who they call The Healer. It is a fight to the death - no holds are barred."
Green snorted. "The Healer? So that’s why Demetrios is bigger than Ben Hur. So it’s a race, really - Set’s getting all his dirty tricks out to make sure Demetrios pulls ahead and Orpheus gets kicked to the curb."
"In a nutshell."
"And if he’s successful, we all have six months to live. You immortals really fucked us up, didn’t you! Creating us just so you had something to do - and then getting rid of us all as soon as you’ve had your fun."
Baldur gave her a long look, resting his chin on his hands. If he was hurt, he didn’t show it.
"You are right. This is our fault, our responsibility, and I am sorry. If you hate me, I understand. This thing - it makes me hate myself."
Green felt as if she’d stepped in an elevator and suddenly realised there was no floor. He always seemed so sure, so confident and sunny throughout everything that would make a normal person tear their hair out - and now he was saying he hated himself? Moved, she put a hand over his.
"It’s not your fault. I just feel sometimes - I feel like having somebody to blame, and everybody I want to yell at is up there...or out there, in Asgard. So I pick on you."
"We are all to blame. I, for thinking that none of this concerned me - for so long. The others – yes, they are callous, and cruel, but they are also afraid. The Game is life to them, for as long as they can remember. Those who can remember further, remember only war. Perhaps they are as afraid of the end of the Game as you are, as I am."
"And Set - is he afraid?" It was hard to imagine. Set wouldn’t be scared - Set would be looking forward to all that delicious destruction, and then to a world more suited to his talents. A real hell, on earth.
"Set is more afraid than anyone. He is afraid that he, himself, is not enough - so he must strike fear into the whole world. Behind his cruelty there is weakness and self doubt."
It’s usually like that, tho
ught Green. The biggest bullies are the biggest cowards - in school, in the office -and in Asgard. You just had to stand up to them - but standing up to a god was easier said than done.
"You know when you said that if someone was warning us, that meant they wanted to help?"
Baldur’s eyes glinted.
"Well then - shouldn’t we be asking them? For help, I mean?"
"If I knew from whom the warning comes, I would ask. Even Zeus-Ra does not know, and he is the oldest of us all."
"So," said Green thoughtfully, "it all started with Zeus-Ra. Like the big bang. First there was nothing - and then, everything. Right? I always wondered what came before the big bang though...didn’t you?"
Baldur remained silent for so long she thought he’d gone to sleep - or was wilfully ignoring her. Green started to feel irritated. Had she said something stupid - or what?
At last he turned towards her, and tugged her impulsively into his arms, planting kisses all over her bemused head.
"You are as clever as you are beautiful, little beast. I should have thought of that before. Of course Zeus-Ra was not the first - there are older immortals than he, although most of them are gone now, killed in the great wars or hidden in whatever far reaches of the universe seem good to them. They no longer concern themselves with humans or gods. But there is at least one who remains on earth - if anyone has a deeper knowledge than Zeus-Ra, it is she."
Green beamed. It wasn’t every day she got called clever and beautiful. She couldn’t help feeling quite pleased with herself. Particularly since she’d apparently thought of something that even a god hadn’t come up with. Pretty damn good for a mere token.
Chapter 24
Greece in the dead of winter was a far different proposition than in summer, when Green had visited it last.
For a start, there were much fewer tourists. Only die-hard ancient history and classics freaks, and archaelogists, and skiers of course, hit Greece in the snow season.
Secondly, it was surprisingly, unpleasantly cold. As they flew over the mainland, they looked down on snow-capped mountains, dreary plains and a carpet of thick grey cloud.
The Wildcard (Like Flies Book 2) Page 12