Mortal Danger (The Immortal Game) (20 page)

“Indeed. If you’re unfamiliar with the ritual, you present the tribute and then ask me a single question.”

Was the Oracle part of the gift Kian wasn’t sure I would want? Why? Unless her prophecies drove you crazy or she carried the curse of not being believed—
no, that’s Cassandra.
A glance at him told me nothing; he was pulling vials and phylacteries out of his jacket pockets. The Oracle settled on the floor nearby, staring into the smoke; her expression was vacant and rapt at the same time.

“I’ll handle the offering,” he said softly.

He mixed the liquids and powders into a paste that shimmered with radiance like sunlight shining through harlequin quartz. His hands were graceful as he painted symbols around the fire. I didn’t recognize them, but the atmosphere changed. The Oracle straightened, her posture shifting from silent ennui to quivering excitement, and then she crawled around the circle, her tongue snaking out to freakish length. She lapped until all of the runes he’d drawn vanished beneath each slithering, serpentine swipe. Before my eyes, she … changed, her skin glowing like mother of pearl, and the smudgy lines drawn on her body sharpened as her lips warmed to a ruby hue. The tangles in her hair became like an intricate tapestry, and what I had taken for twigs and leaves now seemed to be gemstones and gold leaf. The crazy thing was, I wasn’t sure when my eyes deceived me—then or now.

“It has been so long.” It was both a groan of protest and an exultant cry.

I swallowed hard. Never had I been more conscious of how deep I’d fallen into a situation I didn’t understand. So many questions, unsatisfactory answers, and that was when I knew exactly what to ask. If this was a gift, then I’d take full advantage.

“You understand the terms, Oracle. You’ve feasted. Now answer.” Kian stepped back then, leaving the exchange wholly up to me.

The woman-thing turned to me in a sinuous movement. For a few seconds, it was as if she had no spine, as if she were a female torso mounted atop the swaying body of a snake. I blinked through that hallucination, and she had legs again, but the smoke stung my eyes. I was feeling a little light-headed too. Kian set a hand in the small of my back and I exhaled.

Most people would probably ask about their own future, but I needed to know more about the game and its players. Wedderburn wanted me to meet with the Oracle for some reason; therefore, with care, I should be able to turn the situation to my advantage, and nothing was more pertinent than figuring out how to navigate these fiend-infested shadows.

God, I hoped I wasn’t blowing my one chance, but this query seemed like my best bet for an answer of true substance. “Since you’re not human, what
is
your nature?”

The Oracle laughed. “Clever, clever girl. So many pilgrims, and year upon year, they ask,
Will I bear a son? Will he be king? Will my true love come?
These are questions written in water, too many futures dancing in the smoke, for I can say yes and yes and yes, then you cross a bridge or do not cross, and the picture changes.”

“I’m glad you’re pleased.”

“Let me tell you the truth, human girl.” The Oracle moved around the fire, arms twining over her head, in a complicated yet artful dance. “Before things are tangible, they are ideas. I … am an idea someone had, long ago, bound to flesh. Their belief made me real and once real, I had agency.”

“I read a theory once—that human belief is a kind of … energy, and if that enough people sign on, like with an urban legend, it can actually happen.” I didn’t say that I had been on a conspiracy site at the time, one with forums for alleged alien abductees, Bigfoot spotters, and other crackpots.

“Humans have long breathed life into nightmares and creatures of legend,” the Oracle said. “Some fade. They break apart as a new god rises. Others are eternal and immutable, once unleashed.” She bared her teeth in a chilling smile, sharp as shards of bone in a suddenly grotesque face. “How does it feel, knowing that, human girl? That so many of the monsters that stalk your streets are man-made?”

“Good,” I bluffed.
Because anything that came from mankind can be undone by us.
At least, I hoped that was true. I had so few certainties left. “Thanks, this was enlightening.”

Kian drew me away from the circle in a movement too quick to be coincidental. “We need to go. Now.”

“Why?”

He pulled on my hand, yanking me toward the dark mouth of the cave. “Once the question is asked and answered, the terms of the truce are concluded, and the Oracle’s free to fight for her freedom. Run, Edie!”

THE ART OF MAKING ENEMIES

Pillar of salt.
That was the only thing I knew about looking back, so I didn’t. Something sliced the air behind me, snagging my hair, but Kian pulled me forward. There was a painful tug when the lock ripped free and I dove forward into the darkness. I landed on the floor outside the vault with Kian beside me. He kicked the heavy door shut and then rolled over on his back, breathing hard. Blood trickled from my scalp.

“This might seem like an odd question, but … can she
do
anything with my hair?”

“Like what, make a creepy doll?”

“Like … sympathetic magic.”

“No, voodoo’s not among the Oracle’s abilities.”

That made me feel marginally better as I pushed to my feet. “Why the crap didn’t you tell me it would turn into a hunt at the end?”

“I suspected it might freak you out, so you wouldn’t be thinking clearly when it came time to ask your question. That was amazing, by the way.” He paused, then added, “Don’t worry, I would never have let her hurt you.”

I accepted that with a nod, but I had so many questions. “Why do some things dissipate and others become permanent?”

He shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say it depends on the amount of energy they’re fed before the belief fades.”

“That makes sense.” It bothered me that I had no way to test and verify these hypotheses, and I hated operating under so much uncertainty. But I knew more now than I had before, and I suspected Wedderburn hadn’t anticipated that I’d ask the Oracle about the supernatural world. If I had to speculate, I’d bet he suspected I’d want to know about my brilliant, valuable future. Unpredictability was a pitiful advantage, the only one I had.

“Let’s get out of here,” Kian said.

In the elevator, I asked, “Do you have any idea why the boss man offered me a visit to the Oracle?”

He shook his head. “Wedderburn doesn’t explain his motives.”

Wedderburn was an inhuman creature, dreamed up long ago, and it might be a waste of my time to try and understand his mind. “I know who he is. At least … I’m pretty sure.”

“Wait until we’re out of here.”

I nodded. Kian took my hand as he led me out of the building and I kept quiet until we got in the car. “Safe now?”

“Give me a sec.” With my help, he sealed it, using the last of his supply. “Go ahead.”

“Father Frost, Ded Moroz, Woden. There’s substantial cultural crossover in the stories. And when the beliefs of a large populace overlap, something permanent is created.”

I remembered the Oracle’s tone when she said,
I had agency.
While humans might’ve created these things, we no longer controlled their actions. From the look of things, we hadn’t for a long time. Set free in our world, they were embroiled in some kind of game, with dire consequences for the mortals who got mixed up in the match.

Like Kian and me.

Wedderburn seemed to view people as chess pieces, which might reflect how the rest of the immortals saw us. I didn’t know what else to call them, really. Regardless of definitions, I had to work out the rules of engagement pretty damn quick and identify the key players. Otherwise, creatures like the thin man would catch me off guard. In this scenario, lack of preparation could be dangerous.

It’s a good thing I always liked doing my homework.

I thought aloud. “You texted me, warning me about the thin man. Said he had to do with the opposition. Does that mean he works for Dwyer?”

Kian started the car. “He’s one of his enforcers, impossible to shake.”

“Does Wedderburn have monsters like that working for him too? Why aren’t they playing the game on their own terms?”

He nodded as he pulled out of the garage. “For most, it’s a question of power and resources. Lesser beings don’t have the juice to compete.” Before I could ask anything else, he added, “That’s all I know. I’m sorry.”

“Why isn’t the Oracle free to play the game?” I asked, changing tacks.

“She’s a forfeit,” Kian said. “Caught in amber.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Basically, belief in her didn’t last long enough to make her permanent. She was real to the ancient Greeks, but to the modern world? Not so much. Wedderburn sent one of his agents back and captured her because she’s useful in the game.”

“So if she left her cave, she’d … dissolve?”

“More or less.”

“Then why does she want out so bad?”

“If your choices were oblivion or an infinity alone in prison, which would you pick?”

He made a good point. “Now I kind of feel sorry for her.”

“Don’t. She would’ve killed us both, if we hadn’t run.”

That was probably true of most immortals. I took comfort in his promise to protect me. “What do you call them?”

“Who?”

“Your employers, the two sides in this infernal chess match.”

“I haven’t had anyone to talk about them with before now.”

Taken aback, I fell silent for a moment, trying to imagine that. He had no friends, no close acquaintances, even. “What happened to your liaison? Raoul? Did you get to hang out with him, at least, after your circumstances changed?” I was trying to avoid referring to him as a company drone. More important, I hoped Kian had one person inside WM&G that he could count on.

“Missing,” he said tersely, navigating through traffic.

I didn’t immediately recognize this part of the city, but I hadn’t been paying that much attention as he drove away. “Is that even possible? Don’t they monitor all of you?” I pointed at his watch.

“A year ago, he stole an artifact and disappeared.” His tone told me how betrayed he felt, like he’d lost his only friend.

From that, I guessed, “Are you discouraged from bonding with other … liaisons?”

“They keep us on edge, so we never know who to trust. Early on, you learn that people in the organization may not be who they seem or their allegiances may not be what you thought.”

“You’ve been burned?”

“Just once,” he said softly. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Are you sure about me?”

“I know you don’t work for Wedderburn.”

I smiled. “There’s that, at least.”

“You’re putting things together fast, probably faster than they expect. But catalysts are generally smart as hell or they wouldn’t be on track for achieving something important.”

Drawing in a sharp breath, I whispered, “You talk like you’re not even human.”

“I am. The tone is a side effect of learning too much about the game. But I haven’t felt like I was for a long time. Even before extremis.”

“Help me understand something,” I began.

“If I can.”

“Why do immortals want power in our world? What’s the draw?”

Kian shook his head. “It’s bigger than me, Edie. I can’t guess what the endgame is, but it’s not as simple as
winner gets to destroy the world
. After talking to you, I don’t think it’s about ruling, either, though that might be part of it.”

“Maybe it’s entertainment,” I speculated.

He shot me a look that said he didn’t understand.

“Say you live forever, right? You’re real … but not truly part of the natural order, forever apart, forever … other. You probably feel a certain ambivalence and maybe downright enmity toward your paltry creators. You can do anything, more or less, but over the eons, you get bored. What’s the ultimate challenge?”

“Pitting yourself against other immortals and using humans as chess pieces?”

“Maybe the outcome isn’t the point. Maybe it’s the game. It might seem reasonable by their standards, like we owe them compensation, entertainment at our expense?”

“Sounds reasonable, if by that, you mean completely insane.”

I doubted it was so simple, but it was also beyond me not to try and put a puzzle together. “Did they tell you what you would’ve achieved if Tanya hadn’t died and you’d remained on track as a catalyst?”

Kian nodded, taking the ramp onto the freeway. “I went to law school and into politics, became a senator and eventually served on the Supreme Court. Since that’s not what I’d choose on my own, I guess she would’ve nudged me in that direction. I can picture it. She was … ambitious.”

Before Dwyer & Fell drove her nuts, if that is, in fact, what happened.
“It’s so weird to hear you talk about a future that will never happen … in past tense.”

“You get used to it.” His smile was fleeting.

It occurred to me that I didn’t know much about him, certainly nothing of his lost and quiet dreams.
Time to change that.
“What did you want to do, before?”

He cast me a sidelong glance. “If I tell you, promise not to laugh.”

“I won’t.” The disclaimer made me think it was something juvenile like rock star or astronaut, fantasies that most people had little shot of realizing.

“I wanted to teach college literature and write during the summer.”

Hey, a realistic dream
. “You can still do that, can’t you?”

“I haven’t felt like writing for a long time now.”

Yeah, I could take a hint from his tone. “So where are we headed?”

“Since the near-death portion of the evening is over, I thought I’d take you out.” He risked a quick glance at me. “That’s okay, right?”

I realized that he wasn’t pretending to be awkward. Though he was a bit older than me, it didn’t mean anything in terms of sophistication.

“I’d love that.” For tonight, I didn’t want to think about the horrors lurking around the next corner. “You said you’re taking a few college classes?”