Undercover Gorgon: Episode #1 — Witches War (Undercover Gorgon: A Mt. Olympus Employment Agency Miniseries)

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Undercover Gorgon: Episode #1 — Witches War (Undercover Gorgon: A Mt. Olympus Employment Agency Miniseries) Page 4

by Naquin, R. L.


  Abandoning the door, I ran back, threw myself into my seat, and buried my face in a copy of Hyperion Cosmo magazine.

  Janitor boy flipped off the office light, pulled the door shut, and rattled his cart around the corner.

  I waited to be sure he wouldn’t be coming back, then made my way to the door, looking over my shoulder the whole time. Nobody was around. Time to see if it worked.

  I pressed my palm against the metal handle and pushed. To my relief, the door slid open with ease. I pulled the putty out of the lock, balled it up, and stuck it back in my pocket. The door clicked closed behind me, and I glanced around the room.

  I’d never been in the Oracle office before. It wasn’t much different from many of the other departments. Cubicles were arranged around the room, a closed door to a manager’s office was off toward the back, and to the side was what I suspected would be a supply room. A few of the departments I’d been in had different setups, but this was the most common.

  I stepped into the supply room, shut the door behind me, and flipped on the light.

  It was not what I expected.

  The room was more like a large storage closet than a room where people checked equipment in and out. Crystal balls, decks of cards, crystals, bowls, and runes were stacked on tables and tossed in boxes. It was a mess.

  My fingers twitched to catalog it all and put it away.

  I had no idea what I was looking for, so I drifted through the room touching things, running a few fingers over what looked like a Magic 8 Ball, poking the planchette of a Ouija board, and rattling a pair of dice in the palm of my hand. Nothing meant anything to me.

  “Come on. This is ridiculous. Something in here must work. I have to find Circe’s mirror.”

  The moment the words were out of my mouth, a clear globe the size of a bowling ball lit up from its brass stand across the room. I crept toward it and peered into its swirling depths.

  The first thing to appear in the crystal was the back of a woman’s head. Hair the color of lemons—fine in a citrus fruit, but wholly unnatural on a person—was gathered in a neat bun and tied with a black velvet ribbon. The vision panned out, revealing the woman’s shoulders, back, and ultimately, her entire body. She stood in a driveway, barefoot and wearing an airy sundress, directing movers as they unloaded boxes and furniture and moved them into a house through the garage.

  Her shoulders tensed as a pair of brawny men made their way down the truck ramp. They carried a full-length mirror between them, its edges covered top-to-bottom in seashells. The woman held her hands up, as if begging them to be careful.

  I’d asked to see Circe’s mirror, and apparently, that’s what was in the crystal ball. I drew closer, hoping to catch sight of an address or any sort of clue I could use to pinpoint its location.

  The movers stepped off the ramp and swung around to take the mirror into the house. The woman’s hands formed into fists of anxiety as she watched.

  To my horror, the mover walking backward stumbled over an untied shoelace. The woman—presumably Circe—took a step forward, as if she could catch the mirror if it fell. The man recovered, then wiped the sweat on his forward on his upper arm while they paused. After a moment, they resumed their progress toward the door into the house.

  But the shoelace was still untied.

  It trailed toward the other mover as its owner walked backward. The forward-facing man caught it with the side of his shoe, and that was it.

  Helpless to even shout a warning they could hear, I watched the guy with the untied shoe go down, taking his buddy and the mirror with him. For a single second, I thought the mirror might land safely on its back, but it wobbled and lurched forward. My stomach felt queasy as it fell forward, caught the edge of a workbench, and shattered into a million pieces.

  The woman in the vision ran toward it, her ribbon flying behind her and arms outspread. The men wore looks of horror on their faces, and for a moment, I thought they resembled pigs more than humans. I blinked, and the impression was gone.

  I sighed. “Well, so much for that idea.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Not sure how I was supposed to steal something that big from her anyway.”

  The woman, obviously angry, was gesturing wildly at the men. She stopped, as if she’d heard me, and turned her head toward me over her shoulder. Dark, smoky eyes with precise wings drawn on the lids with eyeliner regarded me. I shivered, feeling as if she were reaching into my body and inspecting my soul.

  She frowned, and her eyes turned a fluorescent pink. I froze, unable to take a breath or twitch a finger.

  Her eyes returned to a deep brown, she smiled, then returned her attention to the men still quivering on the floor of her garage, surrounded by broken glass.

  The crystal went dark, and the use of my body returned to me.

  My legs shook, and I sat on the floor to wait for the shaking to pass. “Shit. Now what do I do?” I rubbed my hand over my face and through my artificial hair, missing the snakes that would normally slither through my fingers to comfort me.

  Circe was terrifying, but Hecate was her queen. I had to get that cat’s eye to her. Seeing Hecate angry or even disappointed was not on my to-do list.

  I pulled my legs up and rested my chin on my knees while I stared at the darkened crystal. “If only Rita—Moonflower—would take the damn cat’s eye off long enough for me to steal it.” I sighed and closed my eyes.

  A rosy glow bathed my face and penetrated my eyelids. I opened my eyes. The crystal showed the grinning white face of a plastic black cat. It’s eyes rolled back and forth with the rhythm of its swinging tail. The hands and numbers on its little clock face told me it was 6:15. I glanced at my watch. It was 7:35. The vision in the crystal was not right now.

  The vision pulled back and showed me a cozy kitchen. Moonflower appeared, yawning and wearing a fuzzy green bathrobe. She pressed the button on a coffeepot, then left the room. The vision followed her through a hallway and into a white-tiled bathroom.

  I shifted and almost averted my eyes as she took off her robe and hung it on a hook. She was buck-naked. She bent over to turn on the shower, and I did look away. Nobody needed to see that.

  When I looked back, she was in the shower. The eye swung gently on a second hook on the wall. Steam filled the room, and the crystal went dark.

  I had my solution. Now I just needed a plan.

  * * *

  Since the crystal ball had clearly shown me Moonflower taking a shower in the morning, I went back to my dorm for the rest of the night. Thankfully, Saturday nights turned the dorm into a ghost town. I slept hard until the roommates rolled in, drunk and loud, around 3:00.

  I rolled over and went back to sleep. The siren I could handle, but the nymphs were better left ignored. I was grateful for the sleep.

  Fail or succeed on Monday, I’d be making an enemy of at least one of the Stygian witches—possibly more if the sisters stuck together. There was an excellent chance Circe had already painted a bullseye on my back for snooping on her.

  I was one gorgon. I couldn’t win a war against all the witches of Greek mythology. I had to do everything I could to ensure I didn’t fail Hecate and upset her as well.

  Having that master key to the building wouldn’t suck, either.

  So, I kept to myself on Sunday, despite my roommates badgering me to play volleyball at the Nike sports club. And when no one was paying attention, I went back to Mt. Olympus and collected a few things that might come in handy.

  It was a good thing I’d slept so much Saturday night, because I barely kept my eyes closed on Sunday night. All I could do was go over the plan, catalogue the million things that could go wrong, and wonder whose anger would be worse—the Stygian witches or their queen.

  By the time my alarm went off at 5:00 AM, I was already up and dressed with my bag of stolen—borrowed—loot over my shoulder. My roommates never stirred.

  On my way out the door, I wondered if they’d split my stuff if I never came back.

>   * * *

  Since the human portal door was still set for Wichita for me, I put on my human face and walked out without worrying who would see me. At that early hour, janitorial services were busy polishing the marble floors in the atrium before people started pouring in through the front doors.

  Once I was out in the human world, I jogged around the corner, plopped myself down on the sidewalk in the chilly darkness, and reached into my bag of tricks.

  First came the shoes. I’d used them before—high-top sneakers from the Courier and Messenger department. Their tiny wings fluttered as I laced them securely on my feet. I dropped my flats into the bag, rose from the pavement, and brushed off the back of my skirt.

  Next I pulled out a belt I’d lifted from the supply room in the Muse department. I hooked the golden loops around my waist and clicked the button on the buckle.

  I now had the power of flight, thanks to the shoes, and was invisible and had the ability to walk through walls and doors, thanks to the belt.

  Of course, it wasn’t quite that simple or easy. Moonflower would still be able to see me as long as she had the cat’s eye. But nobody would see my wobbly, inexperienced form flying through the air as the sun came up over Wichita, and I wouldn’t have trouble getting into Moonflower’s house.

  But flight was necessary if I wanted to get there and back without having to call an Uber.

  The city was beginning to come to life below me as I flew across town. Within minutes, I landed a block from Moonflower’s house. I checked my watch—6:02.

  Those thirteen minutes were the longest of my life. I didn’t dare get any closer than a block away. That damn cat’s eye might see me through walls or maybe even up the street. I had no idea how far it could reach. I already knew it could see inside my head. I hoped it hadn’t looked ahead and shown her the future.

  The crystal had gone dark before showing me how long the witch would be in the shower, so once the time hit 6:15, I ran. Invisible, I passed an empty lot, two houses, and a parking lot before reaching her front gate. I walked through it, up the walkway, and through her front door.

  I held my breath, waiting for her to come around the corner screeching and waving a knife.

  Nothing. The place was silent but for the sound of running water. And singing.

  I relaxed enough to pull my shoulders out of my ears and crept down the hallway. The shoes, in theory, would keep me quiet, but the witch had spent most of her life without sight. Her hearing would be finely tuned.

  I followed the singing down the hall to the open bathroom door. Steam filled the room and drifted into the hallway. I had a difficult time seeing. The steam swirled and moved, and for a brief second, I spotted the cat’s eye hanging a few feet away.

  Trying my best not to rattle anything, I reached into my bag and grabbed the last item I’d gathered in the dead of night.

  Not magical. Not borrowed. Not from the department of a god. Last night, I crept into the gift shop and stole a piece of souvenir jewelry. A large orange marble with the Mt. Olympus logo dangled from a black cord. It was close in size and weight to the cat’s eye. It wouldn’t fool her for long, but it might buy me some time.

  And for the record, I left $7.89 on the counter in the gift shop. I borrow. I do not steal.

  Well, except for this instance.

  “Killing me softly with his song, killing me sooooftly…” Moonflower’s voice hit a loud, sour note.

  I nearly dropped the marble on the tile floor.

  My hand shook, and I took a deep breath. I made the three steps into the bathroom, swapped the necklaces, and backed away.

  The water shut off. I froze. If I moved, she’d hear me.

  I needed to run, but my legs wouldn’t unstick.

  A gnarled, clawed hand stuck out of the shower, reaching blindly for a towel. When I’d seen her before, she’d been young and beautiful. In the shower, naked, without any magic, she was centuries old.

  The hand grabbed the towel and disappeared behind the curtain with it. I managed to pry one foot from its self-imposed prison and take a step back.

  The hand shot out again, this time young and beautiful. The curtain opened, and there she stood, wrapped in a fluffy cotton towel, reaching for her cat’s eye on its hook.

  I took another step back.

  She tilted her head and swung around in my direction. “Is someone there?” She grabbed the marble and drew it over her head. “Hello?”

  Her empty eyes widened. “Why can’t I see? Who’s there?” Her perfect face turned down in a scowl and transformed into a scaled, demonic nightmare. She dropped the towel, leaving her naked and pointing a clawed finger directly at me. “I know you’re there. Give me the eye!”

  It was enough to unstick me. I turned and ran. I ran through the door and was in the air before I reached the gate to her yard. While I flew, I gave myself a refresher course on how to breathe. The traffic beneath me had picked up, but I only noticed it peripherally.

  I wanted to throw up.

  At the portal door, I stopped a moment to catch my breath, change my shoes, and drop the belt into my bag. When I stepped through, still wearing my dull human face, only forty-five minutes had passed, and the lobby was empty.

  But I wasn’t done quite yet.

  I kept calm and made my way to the elevator. I’d never broken into the departments this close to people coming in before. But I stayed calm and retraced my steps. Within minutes, I’d dropped the belt off at the Courier department and the shoes in the Muse supply room.

  I made it back to my desk fifteen minutes before I had to be there, still a little shaky, but satisfied and wearing my own face, my own skin, and my own headful of snakes.

  It wasn’t until at least an hour had passed that I realized I’d put things back in the wrong department.

  With any luck, they’d never trace it back to me.

  * * *

  The morning was uneventful, once I’d made it past theft from a powerful witch in her own home and departmental breaking and entering. It was a Monday, so I was able to take out my nervous energy on the new humans arriving for orientation.

  A kid wearing skinny jeans and with hair dyed jet black,stood in my line with earbuds in his ears and the volume cranked so loud I could hear how bad his taste in music was from six feet away.

  I glared at him when he didn’t step forward for his turn. “Next.”

  He looked around, realized he was up, and came to the desk. He scratched the peach fuzz on his cheek, then slid his paperwork toward me.

  I continued to glare, sliding my tiny sunglasses down my nose a bit to scare him. “Take the earbuds out.”

  He wasn’t paying attention. He crammed his hands in his pockets and watched a dryad walk by.

  “Hey.” I snapped my fingers in his face. “Listen up. Take out the earphones, kid.”

  He pulled them out. The terrible music grew louder. “Huh?”

  I shook my head. “That’s incredibly rude. No wonder they sent you here.” I looked over his paperwork. Everything he needed to fill out was done. Too bad. He’d pissed me off. “This is all wrong.” I ripped the paper in half and tossed it in the recycling bin. “Blue ink? Were you raised in a artist’s colony?” I slapped a pen on the desk along with a clipboard and fresh paperwork. “We use black ink here. Do it again. And don’t let me catch you again listening to music on company time. Next!”

  The kid slunk off to do the application all over. And he missed the famous donuts portion of orientation. I loved making them late for donuts. Nobody ever gave me donuts.

  I felt much better. More like myself. The scare I’d had that morning faded, and all I needed to worry about now was how or when Hecate would collect her recovered property.

  Shortly after I came back from lunch, I looked up to find Hecate herself standing in front of my desk. Her hooded cloak hid her face in shadow, but I recognized the garish nail polish on the hand holding my prized master keycard.

  She placed it on the
desk and held her hand on top of it. “Got anything for me? I’ll need your necklace, too.”

  I leaned to my right and pulled the cat’s eye from my bag and the mirror necklace over my head. “I think I may have made a few enemies.”

  “Psh. Don’t worry about it.” She took the items from my hand. “They’ll forget all about it tomorrow when I give them their birthday presents.”

  I frowned. “Birthday presents?”

  “A girl doesn’t turn 3000 every day, you know. And they’re triplets, so it’s three times as exciting.” She stroked the cat’s eye gem with one finger. “And tonight, I’ll be using this little beauty to make my girls two more eyes so they no longer have to share.”

  I blinked and sputtered. It took me a moment to find words to respond to her. “Why didn’t you just tell me this? I’m sure she would have handed over the cat’s eye without a fight.” I’d gone to so much trouble. What the hell was wrong with this woman?

  “That would’ve spoiled the surprise, Patrice.” She patted my hand, and a smile peeked out from the folds of her hood. “Pleasure doing business with you. I’ll keep you in mind if anything new comes up.” She slid the keycard across to me and scurried off to the elevators. I watched her go, dreading the possibility of working for her again.

  And yet, the keycard would make things so much easier for me.

  I ducked behind my desk and tucked the card in my wallet. When I came back up, I choked in surprise.

  The blond guy with the outrageous blue eyes stood in front of me with an eager look on his face. “Did you…did you find it?”

  I tilted my head. “You didn’t come back on Friday.”

  He swallowed hard. “They sent me on a business trip. I had to pick up a shipment of cod.”

  “You’re a fish buyer?” I made an attempt to be subtle as I inhaled, trying to determine if he smelled fishy.

  He shook his head. “I’m just the supply guy over at the Elysian Fields restaurant. This morning it was a shipment of boxed wines.” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t recommend ever eating there.”

 

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