Audrey couldn't take her eyes off of them. It twisted her brain to see flannel and denim in ancient Greece. "Who are they?"
"Dream weavers who have been dropped into our dream, I think."
"How is that possible?"
"The barriers are thinning, remember?"
"I remember." A chill breeze ruffled her clothes. "But I don't have a good feeling about it."
"Nor do I."
A hush fell over the crowd when the large double wooden doors opened, and a man came out and stood at the top of the steps. Audrey recognized his patrician sneer and salt-and-pepper hair from the newspapers.
"That's Lyle Ames," she whispered to Maggie. A couple of men near them shushed her.
19
There was no mistaking Lyle Ames' Roman nose, the supercilious expression, and the perfectly tailored suit. He held up his hands even though the crowd waited quietly.
"Dear friends and fellow worshipers of Her Radiance, the Goddess Aphrodite, I come with exciting news."
Audrey glanced at Maggie, who frowned but said nothing.
"The Pandemos herself has consented for her worship to be revived."
A cheer went up from the crowd. Music played from somewhere, and the festival began. Audrey tried to keep track of Ames, but he disappeared back into the building. Maggie, apparently, had the same thought, and they pushed through the crowd to the steps, climbed them, and ran to the door.
"What does Pandemos mean?" Audrey shivered when they walked from the sunlight into the shade of the wide porch.
"It's an old term for Aphrodite. It means that her worship and the practice of love and pleasure unite all cultures and races."
"Something that could unite the world? Then whoever controls the Pandemos could control the world."
"You know, you're right. That gives us all the more reason for us to find her and get her back."
Instead of the white and gray stone temple she'd expected, Audrey found herself in the lobby of a modern building, all metal and glass with gray floors and walls. A security guard sat behind a wide black marble counter.
"You're not supposed to be in here, ladies," he said with a yawn. "Go on outside and enjoy the festival."
"We're here on official business." Maggie pulled a card from her toga and handed it to the security guard, who frowned at it.
"And who are you here to see?" he asked.
"Mr. Ames." Audrey used her I belong here voice. "We have some questions about the logistics of how all this is going to be pulled off."
"Right," Maggie chimed in, "we're with the Collective Unconscious Standards Committee. If he's going to revive the cult of the Goddess Aphrodite, we need to make sure he’s in compliance with the Regulations for Proper Dream States and Fantasies."
"Because you wouldn't want your fantasy to be below standard, would you?" Audrey finished with a raised eyebrow. She held the corners of her mouth tight so she wouldn't grin and give them away.
"Just a moment, ladies." The guard picked up a telephone receiver and spoke into it. "Go on up." He gestured to the stairs. "Fifth floor. Sorry, no elevators in ancient Greece."
Audrey hiked up her skirt and followed Maggie up the stairs. "But there are telephones?"
Maggie shrugged. "It’s different in different parts, but the C.U. isn’t known for its consistent technology."
At the fifth floor, they exited the stairwell and found themselves in a hallway. They followed it to the end of the building, where a door to a corner office read, Lyle Ames. It was ajar, and they saw him sitting at his desk, or rather, reclining in the chair with his feet on the desk. He had discarded his jacket in the semi-tropical heat and lay back with his eyes closed and a smile on his lips.
"You ladies almost missed me." He opened one eye and peered at them. "I was on my way back to Atlanta."
"We appreciate you seeing us on such short notice, Mr. Ames." Audrey called upon the charm and interview skills she had learned with countless reluctant interviewees for her exposé articles. "My colleague and I have a couple of questions for you."
"Wouldn't they be better suited for the Oracle?"
"I wasn't aware the Oracle was part of Ames Industries." Maggie spoke through clenched teeth.
"She’s not. Yet. Please, have a seat." He turned toward the window and put his feet back on the floor. "I don't really know what to tell you ladies except that all my plans have been approved of and expedited by the highest powers, if you know what I mean."
Fluttering and squeaking noises startled Audrey, and she turned to see that the corner of the room farthest away from the windows held a large box-shaped object covered with a sheet.
"Pardon me, Mr. Ames, but do you have a bird in here?"
He smiled without showing his teeth, which reminded Audrey of a snake. "It's just a pet of mine. Pay it no heed."
"Right," said Maggie. "Do you have the requisite paperwork showing that all has been approved by the Olympian committee?"
He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a folder, which he tossed across the desk to them. "I didn't need to go through the Committee—this had expedited approval from the Chair himself."
"I see," said Audrey. The contract was in Greek, the writing small and densely packed, and her dream sense gave her the gist of it. At the bottom, in curly script, was signed Zeus Rex Olympus, and she smirked at the Latin. The contract told her that Ames had Zeus' permission to pursue his business ventures as long as he agreed to pay the dream tax back to Zeus.
"Tell me about the taxes you've agreed to pay, Mr. Ames."
He cleared his throat. "It's really more of a bartering agreement, Ms…?"
"Lewis," came out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "Aurora Lewis."
"And I'm Margaret MacKenzie," said Maggie. Audrey kept a straight face with effort. They were in the dream world, after all. Why not indulge in a little fantasy? The last fantasy she'd indulged in had made her blush, and she hoped Ames would attribute her red face to the five flights of stairs she'd just climbed.
"So tell us about this bartering agreement." Maggie leaned forward.
Music floated up from the square, and for a moment, Audrey was caught up in the melody, which had a Far Eastern sound. Maggie nudged her foot, which brought her out of the trance.
"Mr. Ames, your dream spells won't work on us. Please answer my question."
He sat back and steepled his fingers. "Very well, ladies. Zeus has free use of my facilities, both here and in the waking world."
"And where are these facilities? They will need inspection certificates if you are to operate them. Oh, and no fabrications, please, Mr. Ames. Even though you're in the dream world, your body language gives you away." Maggie touched the side of her glasses in readiness to pull them off if needed.
"All right." He almost spat the words. "The one here is going to be in the old temple next door. This was once the center of Aphrodite's worship. The one in the waking world will be near my Plaza Hotel."
"And has Her Radiance, the Goddess Aphrodite agreed to be your consultant of her own free will?"
"She has, although I do not have her contract here."
"I see."
"Look, do you ladies need anything else? I have to get back to my waking self for an important meeting. The venture capitalists won't be amused if they find me asleep."
"I don't think so," Audrey said. "Margaret?"
"Not that I can think of. If you could please direct us to the Oracle, Mr. Ames? We need to make sure her license is still current."
He rolled his eyes and breathed an exaggerated sigh. "I swear, if I could just get away from you bureaucrats, my life would be complete. She's in Suite 3-A, third floor."
"Thank you for your time."
When they rose to leave, a commotion came from the cage in the corner.
"Shush, you fool bird," Ames said. "Unless you want to be the first sacrifice at the new temple—or for Thanksgiving."
The fool bird shushed.
Once out
of earshot of the door, Audrey asked, "What do you think he's got in there?"
"I don't know, but I suspect it's something he shouldn't have. Let's not talk too much here."
Audrey felt the hairs at the back of her neck prickle, and she glanced over her shoulder at the apparently deserted hallway.
"You're right. I'll be more careful. I just got the creepiest feeling someone was watching me."
"Let's go check on Rizzo," Charlie suggested. They sat in his office and compared notes on the interview with Amelia Ames.
Damien looked out the window at the darkening sky. The clouds hung low and promised more rain, and although the temperature hadn't dropped significantly since lunch, the wind had picked up. It rattled the branches of the scrawny trees that lined the street.
"I wonder how things are going with Audrey and Maggie." It seemed like everything brought his thoughts back to her. Right now, he wanted to wrap her in his jacket and take her home so they could make tea, order Chinese delivery, and spend the evening cuddling. Which was odd because he didn't usually cuddle—it made women too clingy.
"I do, too." Charlie joined him at the window and put a hand on his shoulder. "But we need to give them a few more hours. Time runs differently there than it does here. Sometimes it's faster, sometimes slower. You know how dreams go."
Damien remembered his dream from earlier about being with Audrey in the cabin with the fireplace and the velvet and satin bed. That one could have lasted a little longer as far as he was concerned. "Then let's go see Arthur if they'll let us."
The I.C.U. nurse waved them right through, and they found him still unconscious, but all the instruments beeped, whirred, and blinked without alarms.
"How is he?" Damien asked the nurse who came in after them.
"He gave us a scare this morning, but he's stable now."
Her voice sounded familiar, and when he actually looked at her, he saw that it wasn't a nurse, but rather Amanda Lee, the psychiatrist. He mentally kicked himself for assuming female equaled nurse.
"Hello, Amanda," said Charlie.
"Detective MacKenzie." She nodded to him. "Officer Lewis."
"So, are you here to see Arthur, too?"
She put a hand on the older doctor's frail one. "Yes. I was just about to leave and wanted to come in and check on him. I can't help but feel responsible."
"How could you be at fault?" asked Damien.
"Daniel's been my patient for a long time, but he's never done anything like this."
"There's no way anyone could have anticipated this," Charlie told her and moved to stand beside her. Damien walked around to the other side of the bed. Arthur's skin looked gray in the fading light, and the glow from the monitor displays gave the room a weird hue.
"How is Daniel?" asked Damien. "Can he be questioned yet?"
"No, he's gone into a state of purely negative symptoms—not talking or moving—and can't or won't communicate with anyone."
Damien thought about how his encounters with the beings from the C.U. had unbalanced him, and his mind was whole and healthy, or so he thought, anyway.
Charlie seemed to have the same thought. "It was probably traumatic for him, too," he said.
"Oh, so you're the psychiatrist now?" She crossed her arms, but her lips twitched.
"What can I say? I'm a multi-talented kind of guy."
Now she grinned. "I'm sure you are."
"So did Daniel say anything before he completely withdrew?"
Now the smile disappeared. "I'm not sure if I should answer anything without legal advice. Perhaps I should take you upstairs to talk to his parents."
"Would you mind?" asked Damien. "You said you were on your way out."
"Not at all. I've been thinking about how to approach your request to question him all day. This seems to be the easiest solution. His parents have Power of Attorney, so they can decide if they need a lawyer."
Damien touched Rizzo's arm with a silent promise to come back, then followed Charlie and Amanda out of the room.
The stairs brought Maggie and Audrey to the third floor, suite 3A. They walked through the door of a dark office but stepped out to the top of a hill. The breeze picked up and ruffled their clothes, and clouds floated across the robin's egg-colored sky. A girl with pointed ears and long brown hair that served as clothing sat with a tablet on her crossed legs beside a jagged gash in the rocky hillside. She gazed down the hill toward the city.
"Are we really outside?" Audrey spun around and saw no sign of the office building. "It feels like we're outdoors."
Maggie put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't make yourself dizzy. The laws of space and time are looser here. I wonder if Ames built a shortcut to the Oracle from his office building for his own ease of consultation, which is illegal. Everyone should have the ordeal of climbing the rocky hill path first."
"Even though we didn't?"
"We'll go back down. I doubt we'll be able to get back into Ames' office, although I want to know what was under that sheet."
They approached the girl, who said, "Good afternoon, ladies," in a high, squeaky voice. "How may I help you?"
"We're here to see the Oracle."
"One question per person per visit. Minimum thirty days between visits. Have you determined your questions?"
"Give us a moment."
They walked to the side and paused in the shade of an olive tree. Its silvery leaves sparkled in the breeze.
Audrey looked over her shoulder at the guardian of the cave. "What are you going to ask?"
"I'm going for broke," Maggie said. "I'm going to ask her to identify the mechanism by which the barriers are being eroded. What about you?"
"I don't know." She'd thought that Maggie would tell her what her question would be. "What should I ask?"
"Each question can only come from within. Use your intuition—it will tell you what you need to know the most."
Intuition? What kind of answer was that? "But what if I ask the wrong thing? What if it's something that won't help us?"
"It won't be. You're an old hat at interviewing people. Consider this to be an interview of your inner desires."
Audrey's mind returned to the conversation she'd had with Aphrodite. Her stomach twisted, and a shot of adrenaline flooded her system. "I think I know what I want to ask, but it has nothing to do with our purpose here."
Maggie put a hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. Behind the blue lenses, Maggie's eyes looked green, the power behind them evident. "It may, but you just don't know it yet."
They walked to the entrance. The girl, whom Audrey surmised to be a nymph or dryad or something else mythical, although she was tempted to call her Godiva, looked at each of them carefully.
"No weapons or deceptions allowed. Truth Seeker, I'll need your glasses. They will be returned to you upon exit."
"Very well."
Audrey was surprised to see that Maggie's eyes were golden here, and that she kept them cast down to the ground. "I can't make eye contact with you without my glasses," the Truth Seeker explained. "If I do, you'll be compelled to tell me more than I need to know."
"Then why do you have to give up your glasses?"
"No deceptions are allowed, and that means no magic, either. The Oracle is immune to my powers, but without my glasses, I can't lie. It used to be that we couldn't lie at all or we'd become mortal again, but that rule was relaxed since modern police work sometimes requires deception."
"Like what we just did with Ames?"
"Exactly."
They walked into the cave, which smelled of sulfur and incense. The path sloped gently upward, and torches in iron sconces lit the way. Audrey heard lute music, and the incense smell grew stronger. Lulled by it, she allowed her eyes to grow heavy.
"Don't succumb to the spell," Maggie whispered. "Only those who are worthy may approach the Oracle. This is a test."
Audrey fought to keep her eyes open and to place one foot in front of the other. She thought back to her questio
n, and the adrenaline hit her again. It woke her up.
"I want to know the answer to my question even though it scares me."
"Then you've passed the first test."
They continued walking upward into a fog, and the music grew louder. Soon the fog became so thick that Audrey couldn't see or hear Maggie, and she stopped, confused.
"Maggie?" she whispered.
The plaintive whisper echoed around her, and she turned when someone—or something—touched her shoulder. This disoriented her further, and she couldn't remember which way she'd been going.
"Maggie?" she called.
Again, her call echoed, and she turned in the direction in which she thought she had been walking and bumped into something. Rather than the cave wall she expected, she faced her own reflection in a mirror. Her light brown hair swirled around her head in the breeze that also stirred the fog into wisps, and her reflection smiled at her. Audrey brought a hand to her mouth in shock, and her reflection did so, too, but with a giggle.
"What is this?"
"This is your choice, Audrey Aurora Sonoma," her reflection told her in her own voice. "If you turn around now, you will come to a door. Go through it, and you will return to your own life, but all will change. You will have a story assignment that will bring you a Pulitzer Prize, and then all the doors of the world will be open to you. Even better, you will find true love with a rich, handsome man, who will be able to take you to the ends of the earth so you can work toward the causes of justice and peace on a global level, as you've always dreamed. Why stay with exposing corruption in the restaurant business when you can do it for the world?"
Audrey thought for a moment. The offer was tempting, especially the part about having access to the kinds of stories she'd always wanted to write. And true love thrown in! Then I wouldn't have to ask the Oracle my question.
But above all, the control she would have over her destiny… Or was it? Would she always be looking for the catch? She shook her head. "If I'm to attain those things, I want to do it on my own, not with a magical shortcut." The reflection returned its posture to her own. "Thanks, but I'll copy old Blue Eyes and do it my way. Besides, I'm needed here."
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