Uninvited (Etudes in C# Book 3)

by Jamie Wyman

  I tugged on Mal’s sleeve. “You okay?”

  He jumped, startled. “This is just…”

  “It’s a lot,” I said.

  Mal nodded. “You hear stories when you’re a kid, but after a while, they’re just stories. Things that happened to people who don’t have any real connection to you. This, though… This is intense.” His gaze drifted around at the assembled parties. “And them… How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Stand in the same room with gods and not feel tiny?”

  I smiled. Just a few years ago, I’d asked Marius the same thing. I was no nearer to an answer, but I realized that standing there with a purpose, with power of my own, I didn’t feel so small. “It gets easier,” I said. “Just fake it. Act like you own the place. Which in some weird way, you do.”

  “Right. Family heirloom, I suppose. Bloody hell!” He blew out an exasperated breath. “Who are all these people?”

  I took him by the arm and set to acting the part of friendly native guide. “Over there by the dryads? Those are Fae.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “See the oak-leaf tattoos? That’s their brand. Most people who serve another deity will wear a mark.”

  “Like the one on your wrist.”

  “Right,” I encouraged him. “You’ll start noticing patterns.”

  Together we did a slow circuit of the room, taking in the audience first. There were creatures I couldn’t name but that I’d seen in paintings. Titans. Demons. An elephant in ornate robes decorated with gold and jade lotuses. A blue-skinned man as fair as any of the Fae held a woman close to his nude body. She rested her head against his chest and let him stroke her coal-black hair.

  Padding around the circle we came to a section of proud figures. I recognized Hera immediately. The Lady of Olympus stood with her chin at a regal angle, her curls falling artfully from her head. She wore a sour expression, nose curling as if she smelled something vile. And yet, there was something about her presence that spoke of haughty triumph. And why not? She had it in for Marius for some reason. She wasn’t the one who’d cursed him, but she was the one who refused to free him.

  Near the Lady of Olympus, I saw Ares and Aphrodite. There were others, all similarly dressed bearing golden pins or seals on their robes. These were the lords of Olympus. Attending them were carbon copies of Polly and Melpomene, the Muses. One of them waved at me with a giddy smile as if we were the best of friends. Standing at a distance from his pantheon, Hephaestus looked like the most stern of statues.

  “Oi, that’s Heph!” Mal said. Some of the tension left him now that he’d seen a friendly face.

  Hephaestus gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, warning us to not make any contact. I nodded. Over the years I spent with Eris, I’d seen inter-pantheon struggles, and none of them were pretty. While I wouldn’t mind seeing Eris on the receiving end of some of that bullshit, I wouldn’t wish it on a friend like Hephaestus.

  The crowd in front of us parted to let someone through. That someone, it turned out, was my boss.

  With a hopeful gasp, I ran to him. “Well? Did you pull your strings?”

  Loki tilted his head and scrunched his still-bruised face. “You could say that.”

  “What happened?”

  “I… Well, I may have accidentally reminded Odin of the time someone stole his eye patch.”

  “So what’s that got to do with—” I wasn’t sure how this mattered, but a terrible thought occurred to me. “You didn’t…”

  “It was just for laughs, okay?” he whispered angrily. “We were drunk and thought it would be funny. Next thing you know Marius is tied up in a Valkyrie’s underwear and I’m pregnant with a horse. Again.”

  He shook his head, as if nursing a hangover, and I gaped at him.

  “You’re…just. Gah! What does this mean?”

  “It means I can’t bid. Odin will be doing that.”

  Odin bidding for Marius? “Is that good? Please tell me that’s good.”

  “Not exactly.”

  I swatted Loki on the shoulder. “You had one job to do!”

  “Will you stop it? You’re making me look bad. You’re my vassal, dammit.” The air around us shimmered, and shadowy wraiths of Loki and I appeared. I couldn’t hear what his said, but he roared at me and I quailed beneath his wrath.

  “Great. Now they’ll all think I’m your bitch.”

  Not-Loki raised a fist to backhand me. I fought the urge to punch the real one in the stomach.

  “What about you?” Loki asked. “Did you find something to bid with?”

  I nodded. “I think we’ve got something that fits the bill.”

  The illusory copies of Loki and I vanished. My boss stepped in closer. “Good. You’re going to have a lot to compete with.”

  “How does this work?”

  “Not like any auction you’ve ever seen. Everyone’s bidding in different currencies. There’s not exactly an exchange rate. Basically, you’re all going to go up to Hades, make your offer, and he will decide what he wants most.”

  Mal spun in a tight circle. “What do all these people want with Marius?”

  Loki’s expression turned dour. “He wronged them in some way. Stole things. Seduced people. Wreaked havoc. Generally, all things I enjoy. But they aren’t so sanguine about it now that they know who’s behind those crimes.”

  “Didn’t Eris tell him to do most of that?” I asked.

  “If that’s true, why go after him and not her?” Mal added.

  “They don’t know Eris commanded it. Your brother—and his former benefactor—are both very good at what they do. Eris covered her own tracks. All these people know is that Marius dicked them over. There’s no proof he did so at Discord’s command.”

  Mal pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly looking very much like his brother. “I don’t understand this. I don’t recognize any of these supposed gods.”

  “They’re not all deities,” Loki said helpfully. He draped an arm over Mal’s shoulder and spun him around, pointing out the things I’d missed. Like the broad-shouldered form of Zeus and a rock monster like the one we’d seen at the strip club.

  “Those three women up there with the ravens on their heads? That’s the Morrigan. Steer clear. They always want new soldiers.”

  I shuddered. My eyes landed on the red-skinned djinn Na’ar al Afrit. “Shit,” I hissed. Then I covered my face and put my back to the djinn Marius and I had tried to steal from.

  “And that,” Loki said merrily, “is why his reindeer can fly. You’re welcome.”

  My eyes shot up to see a plump, white-haired man in—of all things—a crimson lab coat. He traded words with a bearded dwarf, and when the two laughed…

  “It really is like a bowl full of jelly,” I gasped, awestruck.

  The cavern rumbled with a single note beat against an unseen, mammoth drum. All conversation ceased, leaving only the sound of rushed footsteps as everyone went to their places.

  Loki’s breath was hot on my ear. “I can’t stay with you. Remember what I’ve told you about bidding. About everything. I’ll collect you when this is over.”

  The Trickster swept away to join the crowd behind the golden ropes. All those with skin in the game—so to speak—stood in a wide circle. Mal and I fell in with the nearest arc, putting me a little too close to Dahlia for my personal comfort. Then again, if I had to choose between her and the djinn, well, this would work just fine.

  Another hit of the drum rattled my teeth, rumbled in my chest, and all movement ceased. All eyes swept to the center of the circle, ready for whatever happened when a god held an auction.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “What’s Now Is Now”

  Hades clapped his spindly hands, a mirthless smile slithering across his face. “My friends,” he sang. He glided around the circle, leaving a slimy trail of ass-kissery behind him. “Cousins,” he added with a gesture to Zeus. To the Morrigan, he bowed his head. “Col
leagues. Esteemed guests. You honor me with your presence this day. Each of you has expressed interest in the fate of a recent…let’s say, commodity I have acquired.”

  Hades snapped his fingers and once more that beam of emerald, gelatinous light appeared. Marius, still in his satyr form, hovered within. His eyes widened as he took in his surroundings. His stare blurred past me and Mal, too intent on the assembled enemies. How many of them had he worked for at one time or another? How many had he called friends?

  Spectators cast boos and jeers at him, some hissed. A few of the dryads even sighed. Within the circle of bidders, however, a slow, silent anger simmered. Hatred backed by power, lust for revenge, and the endless amounts of time to exact it.

  “A thief. A drunken wastrel. A feckless philanderer. The Scion of Pan,” Hades called, his voice ringing with terrible authority. Robes sweeping along the floor, he approached the Sileni in their tight pack. “To some, he is potential, the corpse of a god to be revived. To others, he is an opportunity for redemption, retribution. Some of you seek a plaything, a whipping boy. Do with him as you will, for it is no matter to me.”

  A throne of billowing white smoke appeared behind Hades. “I will entertain all bids,” he said, sitting. “Prepare your offerings.”

  As one, those in the inner circle reached into hidden pockets. Dahlia held her velvet pouch while a pair of tiny elves toted a steamer trunk to Old Saint Nick.

  Mal made to reach into my backpack, but I stopped him. “No. We wait.”

  “Wait? Why?”

  I glanced over to Loki. He stood near Hephaestus, but not quite among the Olympians. He nodded, a gesture loaded with commands and advice.

  “Divine mandate,” I said.

  Hades met my stare from across the room. As he took notice of the fact that I carried nothing, he sneered.

  Let him think whatever he wants. Play the game like Marius would.

  I didn’t honor Hades with any more of my attention. Instead, I kept my eyes fixed on Marius in the verdant light. He still didn’t look at me. He just gazed at the floor. Something was carved into the stone there, but I couldn’t make out the exact shapes.

  Without preamble or permission, Zeus marched forward. Slung over one arm was the pelt of a lion, amber shimmering where its eyes should have been. He pushed a woman in front of him, his hand latched around the back of her neck. She wore little more than a trace of moonlight over her creamy skin.

  “Oi,” Mal whispered. “I’ll have a taste of that.”

  I elbowed him. “Quiet.”

  The woman knelt before Hades and bowed her head.

  “For my cousin,” Zeus bellowed, “I bring the pelt of the Nemean Lion, slain by my own son.”

  Hades sneered. “A pittance.” His lascivious stare lingered over the nude, lithe body of the woman. “And…?”

  “One of my favored courtesans. A nymph who frequents the pool nearby. Her talents are many.”

  Hades moistened his lips, barely giving the kneeling nymph a second glance. He fixed me with that lupine leer—so much like Eris’s—before turning his graceless smile back to Zeus.

  “I shall consider it,” he said. “Next.”

  And so it went. In turn, each person approached Hades with his or her offering. Jewels. Promises of power or allegiance. Enchanted snow from the north. The djinn brought fire from the heart of the sun itself. The pile of riches continued to grow, each object more obscure than the last.

  Beside me, Mal grew agitated. He dug into my backpack, and before I could stop him, he ran up to Hades with the carved box. I didn’t dare tip my hand that this wasn’t the plan. I chewed my cheeks and bit down on my tongue to keep from screaming, from reacting.

  Within his cell, Marius gave a languid flail. He tried to stop Malcolm, his gestures as frenetic as the soupy beam of light would allow.

  Mal knelt before the Lord of the Dead.

  “And just who are you?” Hades asked.

  “Malcolm, second son of Llyr, son of Pan.”

  Marius buried his face in his hands with embarrassment.

  “How precious,” Hades said. “Is this to be a display of fraternal love? A man begging for the life of his brother?”

  Ignoring the snark, Mal lifted the box in both hands. “I offer this. The box was carved by my grandfather. As were these.” He opened the box to reveal the pipes.

  The Sileni erupted into furious shouts. Mal screamed back at them. “OI! You’ll have your chance.”

  Some of the spectators laughed. I looked up to see Loki glaring. He knew our plan was fucked now that it was in Mal’s hands. Beside him, though, Heph was a flurry of movement. He caught my attention and gave a quick wave to make sure I saw him. When I nodded, Hephaestus put both his hands together as if miming a closed book. Then, slowly, he opened them.

  The arguing among satyr and Sileni continued.

  What? I mouthed to Hephaestus.

  He repeated the gesture again. A third time but slower, with more emphasis. His lips formed the word, “Open.”

  Open? Open what?

  “Order, please!” Hades called. “Let us show some decorum in this—” he let out a snide laugh “—sacred place. There now, boy, if that is all you’ve to offer me, go on and wait for me to pass judgment.”

  Mal rose to his feet, face flushed with ruddy anger. He gave a two-fingered “archer’s salute” to the Sileni and stalked back to his place in line beside me.

  “How d’you think it went?” Mal asked, keeping his voice hushed.

  I stared at him, blinking that he could possibly be so blissfully unaware. “Fantastic,” I said, heavy on the sarcasm.

  Next, Yama—his skin indigo, eyes flame red—went to Hades with his hellhound at his side. He laid a noose, golden scales, and a single lotus at the god’s feet.

  “Handsome prizes, indeed,” Yama intoned, “for my kindred who works behind the veil.”

  Hades bowed his head with a shadow of respect. “Indeed. I thank you.”

  Yama retreated, his dog snarling at Marius.

  Hades searched the crowd. “Anyone else?”

  Dahlia stepped forward, each step graceful and elegant.

  “Ah, a lovely representative of the Fae. How fares your Queen?”

  “Mab is well, milord,” Dahlia said with a deep bow.

  Mal elbowed me. “Oi,” he whispered. “Heph. He’s tryin’ to talk to you.”

  My attention flickered from Dahlia to Heph. Again, he made the motion and mouthed, Open.

  I know, but open what?

  Heph cupped his hands as if holding a ball.

  Understanding hit me like lightning between the eyes. “That’s it,” I breathed.

  I slipped off my bag and found the silver ball Heph had given me. The sphere was a puzzle box, that much I knew. What was inside, though? And would it be enough to win Marius’s life?

  Hephaestus beamed and bobbed his head.

  I nodded feverishly, signaling to him that I understood. Then I got to work. I sent my senses into it. Yes, this was exactly like Pandora’s box. And like that particular relic, this little sphere held something dangerous. The energy pulsing from it was black and spiky, cold.

  Mentally, I pulled away from the object and focused on the silver sphere itself. There had to be a mechanism, some way of popping it open. But how?

  At Hades’s throne, Dahlia opened the velvet pouch and dropped a tiny light into the Olympian’s palm. No bigger than a ring box, it gave off a faint white radiance.

  The god’s eyes grew wide, and he drew in a long, covetous gasp. “Oh my. Is that what I think it is?”

  “Indeed,” Dahlia’s voice echoed in the chamber. “A treasure any would be blessed to hold—one human heart. Metaphorically speaking, that is.”

  I squinted, trying to get a better glimpse of Dahlia’s shiny trinket. All I could see, however, was the gleam of it reflected in Hades’s eyes. “Dare I ask how you or your regents came by such a gem?”

  “Given freely,” she said.
“Unconditional love makes fools of us all.”

  Hades smiled wolfishly. “And how long have you had it?” he asked.

  “Long enough,” Dahlia replied. “Its owner misses it, I’m sure. Unable to love fearlessly without it. But that only sweetens the tragedy. Wouldn’t you agree, milord?”

  He peered into the bauble and turned it around in his hands, taking it in from every angle as if it were a fine-cut gemstone. “Exquisite. Hardly a single flaw. A human heart in this condition is difficult to find. Well done, faerie. Well done, indeed.”

  Dahlia bowed low and stepped back to her place in the arc.

  Hades put the pouch on his lap, patting his hand over it. “Well, if any of you can top this, I will be most impressed.”

  As the next bidder went forward, I turned away, focusing only on that damn puzzle. I closed my eyes and a picture of the sphere formed in my mind. There were channels carved on the inside that formed a sort of labyrinth. Like dipping a paintbrush into water, I sent my will into one of these minuscule canals. A vibrant ring of lucent power appeared in my mental blueprint. Still, there were other rings to be filled, but I was on the right track.

  I stole a glance to see Hades dismissing another courtier. Marius stared at me, his head tilted with concern or confusion. I held his gaze for a moment, hoping he could understand that come hell or high water he would be leaving this temple with me and Malcolm.

  Back to work, eyes shut tight, I worked with fluid speed. The rings inside began to spin and whirl around the contents of the sphere. This brought to my mind an image of a white ball encasing a dark orb. What the bloody hell had Heph stashed in here for me?

  Hades’s sinuous voice pierced my concentration. “Anyone else?”

  Faster. Ticktock, Cat.

  The rings were full, every last one of them spinning in a gyroscopic orbit and building speed.

  “No one’s stepping forward,” Mal said in a panicked whisper.

  Shitshitshitshitshit. Must go faster.

  As I thought it, so the rings responded. Now spinning at a dizzying blur, the light began to swell. Brighter and brighter.