“No, Mr. Romanov is coming with me,” Demeter challenged, holding out her hand to him. Arkady stared at her blankly. She waved a hand in front of his face, then did the same with the driver. Neither reacted to her. She stood, still as a statue. Then slowly, she turned to face us. Her stare was withering, but the tightness in her jaw said it all.
Well, well. For once Hades had been truthful—she couldn’t do squat.
“Let’s go,” Meg said to the driver. He turned and left, and she waddled after him.
“Sorry Demeter.” I smiled brightly as I led Arkady by the elbow. “And just so you know, when this is done, I’m going to buy alligator pumps and eat a big steak.”
I was almost out the door when Demeter grabbed my arm.
“You’re already doomed,” she sneered.
“Bite me.” I pulled away and turned my back on her. Point, my favor!
The driver assisted Arkady into the car and we followed. Once everyone was settled, the driver lowered the glass divider, twisted back, and asked, “Which airport, ma’am?”
I smiled prettily. “There’s been a change of plans. City morgue, please.” The window closed and the car took off.
It took about ten minutes with traffic. The whole way, we rode in silence. Victory was so close I could taste it. I was sure Meg was thinking about Jeremy, and who cared what Arkady was thinking. The driver pulled up to the grim, gray stone building.
Sure doesn’t look like what I see on TV. Morgues were supposed to be shiny and silvery and high tech. This was depressing and creepy and dark. Like something out of a horror movie. The driver opened the door, helping first Meg, then me, then Arkady. If he’d understood what was about to happen, Arkady would have fought to stay in the limo.
“Thank you,” Meg said to the driver. As she talked, I could see the pin feathers not only on her head, but starting to cover her face. She pulled her hat lower and her scarf higher. I did the same. This was going to be close.
She leaned closer to the driver. “Take the tags off the luggage in your trunk and drop them in a dumpster in New Jersey. Mr. Romanov and the redhead you picked up earlier were your only passengers.”
He tipped his hat, ran around to the driver’s side, and slid in. The car pulled away from the curb and disappeared into the morning traffic.
“Nice touch,” I said. “Jeremy should have no problems when people start looking for Arkady.” I squeezed her hand. “The finish line’s inside.” We each took one of Arkady’s arms.
I would need a two-day soak in the Jacuzzi tub to feel skeeve-free.
The hallways of the morgue were crowded and bustling. Damn. We’d have to practically forge a path.
I looked at Meg. “Siren powers on!”
“I know,” she replied morosely. I took off my sunglasses and tried to engage as many gawkers as I could in order to spare Meg, but there were too many people to deal with. Each time I glanced at her, she was more birdlike. I was guessing that even my face must be gone now. My backside felt different too, like it was elongating. I chanced a peek back. To my horror I saw some unfamiliar bulging. When I poked it, my butt felt like a feather pillow.
“Hurry!” I urged, beginning to drag Arkady faster. Meg followed suit. Now we were shoving people aside, not bothering to entrance anyone.
“Oh my God, what is that?” a woman screamed.
“I don’t know, but it’s got that poor man!” cried another.
“Someone call 911!”
“Meg,” I huffed, “shout for them to forget what they see or something! I’ll get Arkady to the portal!”
“Caw! Caw!”
Meg was a total bird now. With a mighty flap, she wriggled free of her cape and hat, her grey sweats shredded, and flew down the hall screeching, chasing the screaming people, a mascot gone wrong. The cacophony was deafening, but on I ran. I had to save us both.
I could feel the portal. My head darted back and forth, making it impossible to read any signs. I had to trust my instincts. I turned down one hall, then another, Meg’s screeching caw in my ear. The pulse of the portal throbbed in my veins, beckoning me. Arkady flopped listlessly beside me, his feet not touching the floor. He seemed to weigh practically nothing. More Siren mojo?
A nasty right turn through double doors, and I stood, panting, in the refrigerated section where the cadavers were stored. A misty vapor seeped out of one body drawer. I hauled Arkady over to it. I yanked on the handle with my free claw, and the door opened and banged against the next one. I pulled out the stainless steel slab and pointed at it with a damning wing.
“Lay down!” I yelled at Arkady, my eyes blazing. “Do it!” I shoved my face within an inch of his. His breath was rank with decay.
He hesitated.
“Where am I?”
It was wearing off! I started to panic, remembering that the enchantment was stronger when Meg was with me.
“Caw!” I screamed. I meant to yell “Meg!” but my voice was gone. An answering cry came from the hallway. There wasn’t much time. By the gift or not, he was going in. I grabbed his arm, almost wrenching it from its socket. He cried and protested as I lifted him up, resisting me with what little strength he had.
A harsh croak came from the hall, and Meg flew into the room. She wheeled around and slammed the door shut, throwing herself against it. Almost instantly there was pounding on the other side. Slowly, she turned and pecked at the bolt with her beak. Click! She’d locked it! She slumped against the door again, her feathered chest heaving and pumping, her bird body confined in what was left of the sweats and sneakers she couldn’t discard on her mad flight through the morgue. Her beady eyes blinked helplessly at me.
I turned back to Arkady. And sucked in a breath. He sat there looking limp, pale, and disoriented. In spite of everything, I felt a small measure of pity for him.
Finally catching her breath, Meg pushed a metal table in front of the door as an added security measure and hopped over to my side. Together we stared at Arkady. Meg’s head drooped a little. I wondered if she was thinking the same thing I was—that he looked so frail and so sad. His arm dangled at his side, probably injured from when I hauled him onto the table.
She warbled something softly in her bird voice that I couldn’t make out. Whatever it was, Arkady sprang to life.
“What am I doing here!” he growled, trying to crane his neck and look around. “You fat, stupid vultures! You’ll pay for this! I deal with powers that you’ll never understand. I’ll make sure you’ll rot in the lowest corner of the Underworld!” Spit flew from his mouth and landed on my wing.
I’d felt pity for this? No one calls me fat! Or stupid! Or a vulture!
He wriggled like a maggot, trying to get off. I held his arms down while Meg knocked him flat.
“Dosvedanya, loser! Caw!” We shoved the drawer in and slammed the door shut together.
Some Sales Are Not Final
We stood panting in front of the body drawer. The mist that had been flowing out of it started to dissipate with a soft hiss. I was dimly aware of banging on the other side of the door to the room. It had been continuous since I’d shut it behind me.
“How are we going to get out of here?” I finally managed.
“Meg! You got your voice back! You’re you!”
I glanced down. My sweats hung in tatters about me, but I saw my legs. I ran a trembling hand through my hair. It was hair! Still not believing it, I craned to see my reflection in the shiny surface of a metal door. I was me again!
I ran over to Shar and grabbed her by the elbows. Her pert nose, sans the orange tint, was back, along with her elegant fingers. We were both plainly human.
“We did it! We did it!” I shouted.
Shar’s exhausted expression immediately transformed into excited happiness, and every feature on her face lit up as she
squealed.
“We’re free! We’re done!” We jumped around in a circle, holding each other and ignoring everything else. Then a muffled voice came through the door.
“Open up, this is the coroner! We’ve called the police!”
“Oh my God.” Shar stopped jumping and looked around. We were in a cement room, with one wall of corpse cells—some likely occupied—and no windows. There was only one way in or out.
“We’re trapped,” I said.
Suddenly, the door of the body drawer closest to us rattled and shook. Then, with a screech, it fell off its hinges. The opening grew larger, and the banging on the door to the room stopped. It was absolutely silent.
Hades strolled out of the portal. “Ladies, I believe it’s time to leave.”
“Time to leave?” I choked out the words as I backed away, pulling Shar with me.
“Come with me. To Tartarus. Now.” He pointed to the portal. I could see a set of rocky stairs leading down.
“Arkady went in!” protested Shar. “We delivered him! We made your deadline. In fact, we’re early!”
“True, but not by much. And it seems that you had a little help. You two were supposed to do this alone.” He flicked a hand carelessly.
My skin went cold.
“As I recall,” Shar said, her voice shaking, “we were the ones who slammed the door on Arkady. Poor Meg had to chase everyone away so I could get him in here. This was all Meg and me. No one else.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” We turned and there was Demeter, sitting on top of the shiny metal table I’d shoved against the door of the room. She crossed her legs; her rubber rain boots, which matched her spring-green mac, dangled over the floor. “Much as I hate to admit it, I believe my son-in-law is right. There is no way that you two could have accomplished this alone. If Persephone hadn’t placed you in Arkady’s apartment, you never would have succeeded.”
I could feel the color rising in my face. How did she know Persephone had helped us?
“Let’s put this into simple terms even you two can understand.” Hades spoke softly, casually leaning against the frame of the portal. “You had help. You cheated. What happens when you cheat in school? You fail. We live by the same rules. Demeter and I differ on some things … ” he said with a twisted lip. Demeter gave an equally cringe-inducing glare. Then he continued, in an almost-brotherly I-caught-you-doing-something-you-shouldn’t-have tone, with wide eyes and pouty lips, “But we all know that cheating is wrong.”
“Cheaters never win,” Demeter mocked, wagging a finger at us. Then she turned to Hades. “And weren’t they supposed to keep mum about their assignment?”
“Why, yes, that’s true!” Hades looked dramatically horrified. “They didn’t speak with you about the arrangement … Did they?”
Demeter sighed. “I’m afraid they did, and I suspect they may have discussed it with Persephone as well. Why else would my dear, sweet, daughter involve herself with mortals?”
“You knew about it already!” Shar shouted angrily, pointing a finger at Demeter. “You mentioned it first! And Persephone chased me down to discuss Hades!”
Hades turned to us in mock pain. “I trusted you,” he cried. “First cheating, and now this violation! You must leave with me now.” His face hardened. “And even if the goddesses did know, you still had a nondisclosure clause, remember?”
“Next time,” Demeter said, sliding off the table and strolling up to us, “don’t try to get the last word with a goddess.”
Hades sidled up to Shar, took her hand, and kissed it. “You should have taken the last deal I offered you, ma chérie. One night, that’s all I wanted. You would have been well compensated, and you would have been free. But now, I have you anyway, and you’ve doomed poor Margaret too. Not a very good friend, are you?”
I moved quickly to Shar’s other side, the angel to Hades’ devil. “Don’t listen to him, Shar! You’d have sacrificed yourself for nothing.”
Hades turned his saturnine glance to me.
“Perhaps you’d like to make me an offer? I promise you it would be the most memorable pleasure of your pathetic life.”
“No thanks.” I showed him both palms, and turned my face away.
“Just thought I’d try. You might have been amusing. For a while.” He sighed, sounding pleased with himself. “Very well. If that’s all cleared up—”
“Wait!” Shar quipped. “If we failed at our mission, how come we’re not birds anymore? We did it and you know it! You have to let us go!”
“I’m not saying that you didn’t complete the mission. I’m saying that you cheated and violated the terms of the contract.”
“And therefore,” Demeter added, “you lose.”
“Mother!” A muffled voice suddenly came from within another body drawer. “Mother!”
Demeter paled.
“Mother, you open this door!”
A great bang, and the door flew off its hinges and hit the wall. Persephone, wearing a glittering lamé halter and silver skin-tight pants, climbed out.
“Persephone, darling!” Demeter looked horrified. She glanced furtively at the ceiling, as if expecting something to come out of it, and laughed nervously. “What are you doing here? You have to leave now!” She rushed over and grabbed Persephone by the arm.
“Mother.” Persephone glared at Demeter and pulled free. “You know exactly what I’m doing here. All of Tartarus is getting ready to welcome the newest Sirens home.” She turned to Hades. “And, dearest, the room next to yours is being redecorated. In pink? You know I abhor pink!”
Hades raised both his hands as if he had nothing to do with it. “Come on, baby, why would I want to associate with … that?” He glanced at Shar, who looked completely indignant. Persephone whirled around and faced Shar, who prudently stepped behind me.
“How did you screw this up?” Her tone was icy.
I pointed a finger at Demeter and Hades. “Ask them! He’s saying we cheated because you helped us, and your mother agrees!”
“What?!” Persephone turned on Demeter. “Mu-ther!”
“Enough!” came a clear female voice from above.
“Wonderful, darling,” Demeter grabbed Persephone’s arm again and pulled her to her side. “See what you’ve done? You’ve broken the rules and gotten Hera’s attention! Hopefully Zeus won’t come with her.”
Persephone shot her mother an evil look. “I broke the rules?” was all she was able to say before a statuesque woman, dressed in a gown made entirely of peacock feathers, passed through the concrete wall. She floated a few inches above the floor, her long, honey-colored hair flowing past her waist. She cast a furious glance at Hades.
“Hera, you can’t interfere in my contracts,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Hera! Queen of the Gods!” I whispered to Shar. “We’re saved!”
“Maybe,” she muttered doubtfully. I didn’t blame her for being suspicious.
“Do you think I want to be here?” Hera looked at the rows of refrigerator doors and admired her reflection in one of them. Then she snapped her fingers, and all of us stood in a magnificent hall of white marble that gleamed in the sun.
“Is this heaven?” Shar murmured in a wistful tone, turning around and around.
“This is a vision of what your kind expects of Mt. Olympus,” Hera said, bored. “Rare is the mortal who actually sees it.”
“Why are we here? I have business to conduct.” Hades’ voice had risen a couple of decibels, and he looked meaningfully at us. We huddled closer and even though it was utterly pointless, shuffled away from him.
“Do not shout, brother-in-law!” Hera snapped. “You forget yourself. I suggest you speak with a lower volume and more respect if you don’t want Zeus here. He won’t be as willing to overlook your boorishness! Not to men
tion this last bit of knavery.”
Demeter raised her hand and shook her head, trying to catch Hera’s attention.
“Oh no, Demeter,” said Hera. “It’s not like you’re innocent. This foolishness has gone on for long enough. Really, one would think the two of you had better things to do than torment mortals with your silly games.”
“Games?” I dared to interject.
“Or should I say, wagers?” Hera shook her head, making her amber tendrils fly about her like she was floating in water.
Hades groaned while Demeter shifted her eyes from side to side.
Persephone looked confused. “Mother, what are they talking about?”
“Yeah,” Shar broke in. “Someone explain this to us. What wager?”
Hades put on the same smile that he wore when we’d first met him in the subway. “You know the story. My lovely Persephone—” He walked over to her and kissed her hand. She gave him a pouty but suggestive look that I wished I hadn’t seen. “Persephone stays with me for six months out of the year, and with her mother”—he wrinkled his nose—“for the other six. But when the season is about to change, sometimes the lines get blurred. It always happens at the beginning of February.”
“You mean, like Groundhog Day?” Shar asked. “The six-more-weeks-of-winter thing?”
“Exactly,” said Demeter. “And rather than argue about it, we made …” She hesitated.
“Go on,” urged Hera.
“We made a bet.” Demeter straightened herself and tried not to look guilty. “Hades had a contract he was going to call in, so he proposed—”
“I didn’t propose anything!” Hades protested, and looked as innocently as he could at Persephone. A performance worthy of an Oscar.
“You did!” Demeter argued. “It was you—”
“I don’t care who started it!” Hera thundered.
“All right, all right.” Demeter cowered. “We made a bet where we agreed that the Sirens would go and collect on the contract—”
Sirenz Page 20