Read Online Codespell by Kelly McCullough - Free Book Online

that it was all my fault.

    “Have they mentioned what they’re going to do about all this?” I asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

    “Taured. Strictly Confidential. Please.”

    In the image, Cerice paused for a moment as though listening to something I couldn’t hear, then nodded. Some of the color leached out of the projection, a sign that some sort of heavy encryption had been introduced.

    “We’re off the record for a few seconds,” said Cerice. “They haven’t sent anyone to kill you just yet, but I think that’s more of an oversight than anything. They’re desperate to get the mweb fixed, and the Fate Core problems have them very focused. That’s the real reason Clotho called me back. They know Shara’s still inside of Necessity, and possibly still running her security systems, and I’m the multiverse’s number one Shara expert. I’ve got to help them. I’m needed here and—” Cerice glanced to one side as the projection suddenly brightened.

    “Grandmother,” she said, “I didn’t . . . oh. Yes, of course I’ll come. I was just saying good-bye to Ravirn.” She turned back to me. “Anyway, like I said, I’m going to stay here for a while and see how much I can help. I know you can’t reach me from there, so I’ll call if I need you.” She bit her lip again. “Good-bye, Ravirn.”

    “Good-bye, Cerice.”

    She blew me a kiss and was gone before I could respond. I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her about cousin Dairn either, which might have changed her mind about whether or not the Fates had decided to actively try to kill me. Then again, it might not. She had been welcomed back into the fold in a way that was forever closed to me. I sighed and took another sip of my daiquiri, then threw the glass so that it shattered against a pillar.

    “Hell with it,” I said to Melchior. “I’m going surfing. You want to come along?”

    He looked warily from me to the shattered glass and then back again. Then he whistled a quick little spell that caused the mess to clean itself up.

    “I suppose I’d better. Someone has to watch out for you.”

    I grabbed a short board, since I was in a mood for aquabatics and spectacular wipeouts rather than long, smooth rides. I could have used a variety of magic to short-circuit the long hike down to the beach or the paddle out to the break point, but I also felt the need to break a sweat.

    I was tired and dehydrated and more than a little strung out after the adrenaline fest getting shot had caused, and the paddling in particular made me ache, but it all felt right. There’s something deeply soothing about working your body so hard you can barely remember you have a brain, much less listen to it whine about things you can’t change.

    When we hit the main break, I paddled just a little bit farther and rolled off my board to bob in the swells. The water felt surprisingly cold as it invaded the shorty wetsuit I’d donned. But it warmed to body temperature quickly. For a while I just played kelp, riding up and down beyond the break and mindlessly watching the long waves roll in. They were powerful, breaking in the classic Hawaiian pipeline, but foamy in the gusty wind.

    I tried to let go of everything but simply being. It’s something I’m not very good at most of the time, but it’s easier out there, away from land with nothing between me and Alaska but ocean. I probably lost a half hour in the lull between two thoughts.

    When I came back to myself, I reached down to my ankle, grabbed the leash, and reeled in the board.

    “Better?” asked Melchior, as the tug alerted him to my return to the here and now—he’s learned to let me alone when I’m kelping, and I appreciated his patience.

    “Yeah, quite a bit, actually.” I slid onto the board, tilting it and almost tumbling him off. “Sorry about that.”

    “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he said.

    “Do what?”

    “Apologize preemptively. It drains all the fun out of