Lady of Blades

by Saje Williams

  Shea glanced between her and Saqr, obviously shocked. “What did you do to him?"

  "Funny,” came Athena's voice, as she emerged from a transit tube a few feet away, “I was about to ask the same question.” Her voice was tight, cold, and her gaze was pure ice as she turned on Jaz. “Right after I ask who the hell he is.” Her eyes narrowed and she focused on Saqr again. “He looks familiar—shit! That's Colonel Saqr. What have you done?"

  "Restrained a criminal,” Jaz answered blandly. “Pretty effectively, if I say so myself."

  "He's got diplomatic immunity, dammit!"

  "Yes, I believe Deryk already mentioned that. Didn't help him much, did it?"

  Saqr began to let out a weird, undulating cry.

  "Okay, that's weird,” Shea murmured. “Annoying, too."

  "Let him go,” Athena said, wincing as the imprisoned Colonel cracked a high note.

  "Not going to happen,” Jaz replied. “I have reason to believe he was sent here to take out the PAC. It's my guess that your enemy—our enemy—is behind it. Either that or you have a traitor in your ranks."

  This caught Athena's attention. “What? Why would you say that?"

  "He told me an angel ordered him to destroy the PAC. Now, we could assume he's just nuts, but I think that's an assumption we can't afford to make. If he was ordered by someone—or some thing—to attack you guys directly, it's only a matter of time before someone else tries. And quite possibly succeeds. We need to get him to talk. Diplomatic immunity isn't going to cut it."

  They were starting to gather a crowd. Mostly PAC folks and employees of Shea Industries and AthenaCorp, but there were a few curious bystanders, some of whom were speaking on their cell phones. Jaz wasn't about to bet they were talking on their phones before they came upon this strange site in the middle of Shea Plaza.

  Like it or not, this was news.

  * * * *

  Curious onlookers summoned the press and the press summoned an Egyptian diplomatic attaché from the Consulate in Seattle. Predictably enough. He came by chopper, which landed on the roof pad and disgorged a squad of guards and attendants, along with the attaché himself.

  He arrived on the ground a few minutes later, a dark, portly man wearing a black pin-striped silk suit nearly as expensive as Shea's. He scanned the scene and, apparently recognizing Athena as the Chair of the PAC, went after her like a starving hyena. “What's the meaning of this? Don't you realize that this man has diplomatic immunity? I demand you release him immediately."

  "I'd love to,” Athena replied, “but I'm afraid I don't have him. She does.” Athena didn't hesitate to point the finger at Jaz, who offered her a tight, unamused smile in exchange.

  Their outward show of animosity was mostly for the benefit of the diplomatic entourage and the press. They'd already come to terms with this situation, at least, and were both surprised to find themselves in agreement. They couldn't, in good conscience, let Saqr go until they knew what he knew.

  At least he'd gone silent, evidently realizing all his bitching and cursing wasn't doing him any good. He now glared at Jaz with undisguised fear and loathing.

  "She isn't one of yours?” the attaché asked, wringing his hands in front of him and looking from Athena to Saqr several times. “She's breaking one of your laws, is she not? Why don't you just arrest her?” He seemed a nervous little man, but some of that could have been affected. A way to put them off-guard. All too often a diplomatic attaché was just another word for ‘spy.'

  "That is so not a good idea,” Shea said mildly. “I would personally suggest that he do what she asks. Then she'd have no reason to restrain him."

  "That's ridiculous!” the man sputtered. “I demand you release him at once! If you do not, I will send for a tractor and have him dug out of there myself."

  "And that qualifies as bad idea number two,” Jaz informed him. “I've merged him completely with the concrete and earth ... he's completely intact, but some of the components of his body have been ... shall we say ... compromised. You dig him up like this, you'll kill him."

  "Fucking whore!” Saqr shrieked.

  Jaz winced. Asshole. She was getting so tired of hearing that phrase. “You have no idea how much I want to leave him there permanently. But eventually his head would decompose and raise a stink. So as soon as he tells us what we want to know, I'll let him go free."

  Twelve

  Jaz slipped in silently with the others, hidden within a shell of magic, and listened intently to a murmured conversation between a couple of immortals she didn't know. One was a black man with a distinct British accent, the other a reasonably attractive red-headed woman with the faintest hint of Ireland in her voice. Their long familiarity was obvious, along with a certain amount of ambivalence. She didn't get this impression from their discussion, but from something ephemeral ... a feeling ... something she couldn't put her finger on. She shrugged it away as her gaze swept the long rectangular room, its centerpiece a long oaken table adorned only by a small bubbling fountain in the shape of a whale placed in the exact center.

  They filed into the room one by one, taking seats around the table amidst a low murmur of conversation.

  A few of them she knew by sight, a few others by description. Athena filed in, taking the chair at the head of the table. Deryk Shea followed right behind her, and fell into a seat a couple of spaces away. Loki dropped into a chair on the other side of him and grinned at Athena.

  I'm beginning to see why Quickfingers enjoys this sort of thing so much. It is kinda fun. Jaz waited in a corner of the room until all the immortals had filed in and found a seat. She chose a chair a fair distance from any of the others and settled back to watch.

  Her eyes flicked across the assemblage, taking in the astounding sight of this many immortals gathered in one place with a strange feeling of disorientation. Somehow she wasn't surprised to see the rock star Stormchild sitting in such august company. She wasn't the only one to notice the man hadn't seemed to age in the fifteen years he'd been in the public spotlight.

  Her head jerked around as Athena spoke. “You all know why I called this meeting today."

  Well, they might, Jaz thought, but I don't.

  "Jasmine Tashae,” growled a burly, black-bearded man at the far other end of the table.

  "Indeed,” said the Brit. “And what about her?"

  "She's hot,” said Stormchild. Jaz suppressed a giggle. That was an amazing thing to hear. She'd been crazy about the guy as a teenager, but, then again, just about every girl her age was. He was a flashback from the eighties, perhaps, but he was so gorgeous that most women were willing to overlook the ‘hair metal’ look.

  Athena rolled her eyes in an obviously dramatic fashion and blew an explosive breath from her nose. “That is so beside the point, Thor."

  Thor? Well, his first band was called ‘Thor's Hammer.’ I guess the name came from somewhere.

  "I happen to agree with him,” said the red-haired woman, with a sardonic grin. “I've seen her around."

  Loki snickered. “We all know your proclivities, Morrigan. If it wears pants..."

  "I'm a little more discriminating than that,” she responded, smile sliding from her face as an evil light shimmered in the depths of her pale jade eyes.

  "If you say so.” He gave her a broad wink.

  "I think we should kill her,” the bearded man said. When the rest of the immortals turned startled gazes his way, he flushed. “I mean that Tashae woman."

  "We all know your opinion, Ares,” Shea grunted. “Not that we care..."

  So that's Ares. What's he got against me? Shit. It's probably the thing with Avatar. Do they have a rule about killing one another? Seems like they would. She shrugged. Too early to start worrying about that.

  Athena rubbed at her forehead as if she felt a headache coming on. “Have they always been this difficult?” she asked Shea.

  "Where have you been?” he chuckled. “Why do you think I handed the job to you? You're much better at herdin
g cats than I am."

  "Gee, thanks."

  "Not a problem."

  Jaz gave an abrupt start as Bast walked through the door, taking in the room and its occupants with one sweeping glance and seeking out an empty chair while they all looked on in what appeared to be shock. Jaz didn't miss the fact that the goddess aimed a surreptitious glance her way as if she could see through her invisibility shell.

  It wouldn't surprise me if she could, Jaz thought. Bast settled down in a seat next to the dapper black man, giving him a friendly nod as she adjusted her pleated skirts.

  "Now while it may be true that Jasmine is a bit of a problem, she's not the only reason I called this gathering today. She brought up something I find very interesting, something I assume Bast can verify for us.” She told them all what Jaz had revealed about the magic school and the training that had been missed.

  It wasn't well received.

  "What? Are you telling me that the only real mage we have is this Jasmine creature?” Ares roared.

  "Not quite,” Bast replied calmly, “considering I'm the one who trained her."

  In a manner of speaking, Jaz thought. Rather, had me trained. But close enough.

  "For some reason that doesn't make me feel any better,” Ares growled. “I not sure why I should trust you any more than I trust her."

  Bast's lips curved into the tiniest of smiles. “Nor I, you. At least I haven't spent the past several thousand years enticing mortals to kill one another."

  This got a reaction. The chair hit the floor as he surged to his feet, his face reddening. “Big words from a woman who's spent the past several thousand years hiding from the world on a secret island."

  "Christ, Ares, chill out,” Stormchild interjected.

  "Oh, piss off, spandex boy."

  Stormchild lifted a feathery blond brow. “Why don't you go fuck yourself?” he answered back calmly.

  "Why, you little—” Ares stalked toward the slimmer immortal, hands knotting into fists.

  Stormchild casually lifted his hand. A nimbus of blue fire lanced outward from his splayed fingers. He flicked his hand as if casting off drops of water. Thunder blasted through the room as a sizzling bolt of purple lightning leaped between them, snatching Ares off the floor, and slamming him into the back wall with enough force to send a great fissure crawling across the sheetrock. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

  He rose shakily, a silent snarl curling his lip. “Remind me not to do that again."

  "Don't do that again,” Loki snickered, earning a dark look. He shrugged. “Now seemed as good a time as any for a reminder."

  "If you children are done playing around,” Athena cut in, “do you think we can manage to get around to more important things?"

  "I'd say what I just witnessed looked pretty damn important to me,” The redhead remarked dryly. “Was that what I think it was?"

  "Stormchild throwing a lightning bolt? I'm with you, Morrigan. That looked pretty damn important.” Loki stroked his chin and peered at Stormchild curiously. “When did you start regaining your full powers?"

  "I didn't know I had,” Stormchild said, looking as shocked as the others. “I did it without thinking and ka-blam. Toasted Ares."

  The brawny immortal's eyes narrowed as he slid back into his chair, looking subdued for the first time since he'd entered the room.

  "Huh. Well, if you don't mind I'd like to run some tests to see—"

  "Do all the blood work you want, Loki,” Bast interrupted, “but it won't tell you anything. This has nothing to do with the physical and everything to do with the metaphysical. He's becoming a god again."

  "What? How?"

  "I have a few theories. As you should all know, I'm something of an expert on these matters. Unlike the rest of you, I never lost mine.” She stated this matter-of-factly, not as if she were rubbing their nose in it.

  "Not all of us had special powers ... godhood or not,” Athena reminded her. “Like me, Loki, and Ares, to name a few."

  The cat-goddess shrugged. “I think the powers are, in some way, tied to your mythos. You, Athena, were a goddess of wisdom ... among other things. But that doesn't involve any overt show of power, so you never gained anything special in that regard. Ares is simply a master at arms. Loki—he used to be able to shapeshift, remember?"

  Athena shot a him a curious look. “You're right. I'd forgotten that."

  "Hell, I'd almost forgotten that,” Loki replied slyly. “So what you're saying is that Stormchild is regaining the powers common to his mythos as Thor? But why?"

  "Because he's still Thor, for one. A name change isn't going to alter that fact. And because there are mortals rediscovering the old religion and beginning to believe in his godhood again."

  "What special powers do you have as a goddess, Bast? If I remember right, yours was not a mythos of any particularly aggressive power.” This, oddly enough, came in the clipped British accent of the one who'd so far remained the most silent throughout the proceedings, the man called Bladesworth.

  "I have the power to protect those who call on me,” she responded airily. “In a way, I'm a defender, as is Jasmine Tashae."

  "Defender?” Ares snorted. “You're kidding, right? So far she hasn't defended anyone. She avenged the death of a child, killed Thanatos, then chased down and caught the guy who was trying to blow up the Shea Building but failed only because Shea was on the ball. That's not what I call defending. As a defender she's pretty much been a failure."

  "She's just getting started,” Bast replied coolly. “Give her time."

  "Can we get back to the point here?” Athena cut in. “Like Thoth and the Thorne Academy?"

  "Was that the point?” Loki asked blandly. “I guess I was just wondering why Bast would show up at a meeting after staying out of our sight for so long."

  "Isn't it obvious?” Shea asked. “She's here on Jaz's behalf."

  "You're jumping to conclusions, Deryk,” Bast said. “I don't need to fight her battles for her. She's perfectly capable of doing it herself."

  "Not here, she isn't,” Shea pointed out. “Immortals only, remember?"

  "Believe me. That wouldn't stop her.” She shook her head. “If she wanted to stand up for herself here, she would do it."

  Athena frowned at her from the head of the table. “What does that mean?"

  Jaz didn't miss the surreptitious glance Bast sent her direction. She only wondered how no one else seemed to be catching on. Sorry, Bast, but I'm not going to reveal myself just yet. And I'll thank you not to blow my game.

  I'm waiting for the right moment.

  "Obviously she doesn't trust any of you enough to tell you,” Bast said, after a long pause. Jaz didn't miss the sudden pain in Shea's eyes. Damn, Bast, did you have to put it that way?

  "Yeah, well, we don't trust her!" Ares said with a throaty growl.

  "Oh, give it a rest, Ares. We're tired of hearing it. You don't like her, you don't trust her, and you want to kill her. Blah, Blah. Sing another tune.” Loki leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “She worries me a little sometimes, but she's certainly no worse than you—and I haven't tried to kill you yet."

  "She's a mortal who's killed one of us. Isn't that good enough reason to want her dead?"

  "Hardly.” This from Morrigan, oddly enough. “We've both killed enough of them over the centuries. You and me in particular."

  "That's different."

  "I'm sorry you think so. I don't. And I don't think anyone else in the room does either."

  These comments seem to surprise Athena, who was staring at Morrigan as if a mouse had climbed out her ear and started building a nest in her hair.

  Ares, on the other hand, didn't look impressed at all. “It wouldn't be the first time I was right and everyone else was wrong."

  "Shit, Ares ... arrogant much?” Loki grinned at the war god and shook his head. “Twenty-five thousand years and you haven't learned anything yet? Powerful and knowledgeable doesn't equal omnipotent and
omniscient. Don't act like it does."

  He breathed an inarticulate growl and dug his fingers into the edge of the table. “Screw you all. I don't have to do what you tell me ... no one else does."

  "Can't argue with you there,” Athena sighed, with a pointed glance at Loki.

  He grinned.

  Eyes narrowing, Athena shifted her attention back to Ares. “So take this as a warning. She has a lot of friends. Shea, Loki, Kali, and let's not forget her indestructible sidekick. If we can't stop you, we sure as hell can't stop them."

  His gaze scraped across the two she'd mentioned, then locked back on her. “I'll take my chances."

  I'm sure you will, Jaz thought. Question is whether or not it's time to let you know how stupid that would be. She wanted to. But timing was the real key here. If she wanted to get Ares off her back without killing him, she'd have to act at exactly the right moment. Then maybe she'd scare the crap out of him so he'd leave her in peace. A smile spread slowly across her face. He's a master of weapons ... how about weapons he can't master?

  "This brings me to another point,” Athena said. “I want to start including Carth and Feral Dusk in these meetings."

  "What? The Faerie? Absolutely not."

  Morrigan smiled thinly. “I vote yes."

  "Me, too.” This from Hermes, who had yet to speak. He was a slim, curly-haired youth—by appearances, anyway. He obviously wasn't the talkative sort, though he didn't seem to be brooding either. Quiet and introspective was more his thing.

  Jaz could appreciate that.

  "As do I,” said Bladesworth.

  "If you can get past the wings and the size, not to mention the claws, Feral Dusk is pretty hot, too,” Stormchild put in., to assorted looks of disgust and astonishment. “I vote yes."

  "Well,” Athena sighed, “I guess that answers the question of whether Thor—Stormchild—will ever actually grow up."