“My work here isn’t done quite yet. The Earth’s future is resting on a knife’s edge. Dice are still be rolled. Cards to be dealt. Too many players are still in the shadows.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“Fate’s of course, and she’s kind of like Switzerland but at the same time a fickled annoying twat of a Goddess. Don’t everlet anyone tell you any different. Now go. Before Qetesh starts stripping and this whole encounter becomes R-rated.”
Canary’s mouth opened and a bright stream of yellow liquid shot out, hitting the chain connecting Gigi’s ankle shackles. Four seconds later the chain length evaporated. Seriously, Gigi still didn’t know where she’d gone wrong with her first attempt at making pickle juice cocktails for Fourth of July celebrations seven years ago. But the stuff certainly came in handy right now.
Qetesh’s guards were slow to react as Gigi raced across the room, kicking Demetrious in the back of the knees, sending him crashing to the ground as she hurriedly sprayed the length of chain holding Nico’s shackles together. Grabbing him by the shoulder, yanking him back away from a very surprised Qetesh.
“What the—” The demi-goddess coughing, waving her hand back and forth, as a fine black mist was blasted right into her face courtesy of Canary.
Gigi had been fourteen when she concocted a vat of itching powder, requested by Riya, who wanted to payback her plethora of brothers for a prank they had pulled on her involving the family cat, a bucket of superglue and a catapult.
It had taken Gigi five tries to get a mild yet irritating batch. Her second attempt though, the one she’d just hosed Qetesh in the face with had been an utter failure, unless the result you were aiming for was pus filled boils, accompanied by a nasty weeping rash and of course the insane need to scratch all of it.
Too severe to use on family. Poor Canary had not enjoyed the experience at all.
“No.” Qetesh was feeling her face, knowing something was wrong. Lifting her exposed arms, where the mist had also landed. Staring in horror as large red lumps appeared like mini volcanos. Her once flawless flesh turning dark red, splotchy and angry looking.
Gigi swinging Nico around to face her. His toffee eyes gleaming with too many flecks of gold. His expression horrifyingly blank. Almost as if he didn’t recognise her. “Nico?”
“What have you done to me?” Qetesh’s voice bordered on a scream.
“Nico.” Gigi shook him harder. “Come on, Cassanova. Wake up.”
“Why can’t I stop itching? What’s happening to my face? Someone fetch me a mirror.”
Damn it. Why wouldn’t Nico snap out of it? Maybe he was too far gone? Gigi’s gut clenched in panic and horror at the idea. In fairytales a kiss always broke the evil spell cast over the Hero. But Gigi couldn’t stomach the idea. This blank faced too golden man was not her Nico. He was a stranger. Besides, Qetesh’s lips had just been on his, Gigi in no way fancied following so closely on the demi-goddess’s heels, unless Nico scrubbed his lips and gargled an entire bottle of mouthwash.
Oh, that gave her an idea. Turning Canary on Nico this time she blasted him in the face with a bright green stream of liquid. Her take on homemade mouthwash when she’d been fifteen and a little obsessed with kissing boys. Except her attempt had been way too minty, too fresh and had Canary’s hair and ears standing on end for four days straight.
“Mierda.” Nico rubbed at his eyes, and spat. His mouth burned as if he’d swallowed a large minty block of ice. His heart racing. His eyes itching a little. Blinking, trying to clear away the strange cold burn.
Oh, thank the Merciful Lady, Nico was back and he was swearing. Better still, he was less golden, though little specks glimmered still in his once again dark hair and on his tanned skin.
“Guards. Guards.” Qetesh was itching now, her face, her arms, her décolletage. Pus filled boils popping, instantly making everything worse. “Kill her! Kill her!”
“What the—”
“Explanations later. Come on. This way.” Gigi began pulling Nico towards the nearest balcony. Deciding to trust Vaia’s instructions. She chanced a quick glance in the woman’s direction. The Fate leaning against a wall, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips, her gaze fixed upon a screeching, itching Qetesh, the deck of cards in her left hand almost a blur as she cut and re-cut it. Bloody Fates, so annoyingly enigmatic, neither an enemy or a friend.
“The door’s this way.” Nico spat again, trying to clear the sharp bitter taste in his mouth that was making his mouth lightly burn and tingle all at the same time.
“Balcony is better, trust me.”
“You go. I’ll hold off the guards.”
Gigi rolled her eyes, men. Grabbing Nico’s arm and pulling him forward. “I can take care of the guards, just move your glittering ass.” Gigi held Canary out behind her, calling forth her instant hard shell frozen chocolate topping, no ice cream needed. Her first attempt at creating the recipe had been a little too instant, too frozen and took over a week until it softened enough to actually eat.
But the stuff made an awesome icy slippery as all hell surface. Gigi ignoring the thumps, crashes and general mayhem she had caused as the first few guards tried to navigate across the icy floor. Feeling weirdly proud and smug of herself and Canary. Doubly so as she could hear Qetesh’s voice wailing in the background, swearing and throwing around the word disfigured, vowing revenge and berating the guards for falling over on the job.
Gigi stepped out onto the balcony, the air cool, raising instant goosebumps on her arms and bare legs. Wherever they had been transported to was experiencing a cold snap. Nico looking over the edge of the balcony trying to figure out a way for them to get down. Hmmm, that didn’t feel right to Gigi somehow. Tapping him on the shoulder.
“The ladder. We go up.”
Following closely behind Nico, Gigi made sure to spray each rung below her with her instant freezing dessert topping. No one would be climbing that ladder for a week. Looking around she took in the architecture and any available landmarks. Which thankfully there were a plethora of. Hah, she knew exactly where they were and where they should go next. Placing Canary on her shoulder, Gigi, with the aid of two hands, climbed higher and higher.
Okay, so she was feeling a whole lot of smug and pretty darn proud of herself right now. The so-called junior partner had totally owned their escape. With of course some major help from Canary. And where had Nico been? Kissing Qetesh. Grrr, the smugness shifted and an uncomfortable burning set up shop in Gigi’s gut. She wasn’t jealous, she was pissed off. To be fair, he hadn’t actively participated in the kiss, but he hadn’t done anything to stop it from happening either, and Qetesh had managed to get her claws that bit deeper into him as a result. Nico was a little bit more the property of the demi-goddess than he had been before the kiss.
