Read Online WebMage by Kelly McCullough - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kelly McCullough
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fantasy fiction, Fantasy, Computers, Fantasy Fiction; American, High Tech
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nasty look before going into berserk cleaning mode. While he tidied the general mess I went after the bed. My blanket and sheets would have to go straight into a trash bag. I thought the pillow might be salvageable, but decided to flip it off the bed with my rapier in case Rod had done something nasty to it as well.
As the tip of my sword touched the pillow, there came a flash of black like a little explosion of night and a shock of magic raced up the steel to my hand. The flesh of my palm began to blister even before the blackness started to flow up the blade. As the dark cloud slid toward me, the tempered steel of the sword wilted like a candle in a furnace.
Turning, I threw my blade. The hilt ripped free of my burned hand with an awful popping sound in the instant before the darkness consumed it. Plywood covered the lower half of the window, but the mass of blackness and molten metal punched right through, leaving a smoking hole in its wake.
"Melchior, Program Abort. Execute."
My voice was clear and calm. It was shock of course, but I'd take what I could get. Melchior stopped cleaning.
"Come here and tell me how bad this is," I said.
I didn't want to look at it, not when it hurt that much. And not with the scent of burned meat hanging in the air.
After inspecting the damage he let out a low whistle. "Ouch! Either Rod's getting more sophisticated in the revenge department, or Atropos wasn't content with the results of her hit team. I wonder how she knew you were still alive."
"Who knows? She could have seen through Burnt Offerings, or checked my life thread in the Fate Core, or even just e-mailed Hades about whether I'd arrived or not. How isn't important. The question is, what the hell do I do now?"
"You could start by thanking Rod for being such a shit-head," said Melchior.
I had to agree. Under any other circumstances I'd probably have flopped into my bunk when I got in, and if that had been my head hitting the pillow instead of my sword… I was going to have to start being very careful. The official attempt on my life might have failed, but that didn't mean Atropos was going to kiss and make up.
"Hey, Boss," said Melchior, sniffing around the head of the bed, "I think there's more to this…"
He didn't trail off. I did. I could still see his lips moving, but the ringing in my ears drowned him out. I felt my knees buckling.
"Melchior," I tried to say, but I couldn't hear my own voice, "Nine One One. Execute."
The order authorized him to take whatever action he felt necessary to deal with the situation, including using magic independently. I was quite proud to have remembered to try it under the circumstances. My last thought before I went under was that it was too bad I didn't know if I'd actually said it.
* * * *
"Incoming," hissed Melchior.
"Huh?" I replied, muzzily, opening my eyes.
A clock blinked a few inches away. I peered at it blearily. After a moment I was able to recognize it as the one in my dorm. After another I was able to read it—4:00 a.m. I didn't need to be at class for another three hours, so I closed my eyes. Something sharp pinched my cheek and I opened them again.
"You've got to get up, Boss."
Mel sounded worried, and I seemed to remember he had good reason to be, but I just couldn't think straight. He poked me in the ribs with a sharp claw. It hurt, and I came a little more awake.
"What in Hades's name?" I grumbled.
He pointed to a ghostly glow near the door, an incoming locus transfer. Things started to come back to me: Atropos, the assassination attempt, my most recent injury. I moved my right hand experimentally. The pain was gone, but so was most any other sensation.
"Chaos and Discord!" I swore.
"I hope not," Melchior's replied. "Fate is giving us enough trouble without we should irritate any of the other great powers." His voice was light, but he had my pistol ready when I reached for it.
As I rolled out of bed and started slithering across the room, deep rumbling
As the tip of my sword touched the pillow, there came a flash of black like a little explosion of night and a shock of magic raced up the steel to my hand. The flesh of my palm began to blister even before the blackness started to flow up the blade. As the dark cloud slid toward me, the tempered steel of the sword wilted like a candle in a furnace.
Turning, I threw my blade. The hilt ripped free of my burned hand with an awful popping sound in the instant before the darkness consumed it. Plywood covered the lower half of the window, but the mass of blackness and molten metal punched right through, leaving a smoking hole in its wake.
"Melchior, Program Abort. Execute."
My voice was clear and calm. It was shock of course, but I'd take what I could get. Melchior stopped cleaning.
"Come here and tell me how bad this is," I said.
I didn't want to look at it, not when it hurt that much. And not with the scent of burned meat hanging in the air.
After inspecting the damage he let out a low whistle. "Ouch! Either Rod's getting more sophisticated in the revenge department, or Atropos wasn't content with the results of her hit team. I wonder how she knew you were still alive."
"Who knows? She could have seen through Burnt Offerings, or checked my life thread in the Fate Core, or even just e-mailed Hades about whether I'd arrived or not. How isn't important. The question is, what the hell do I do now?"
"You could start by thanking Rod for being such a shit-head," said Melchior.
I had to agree. Under any other circumstances I'd probably have flopped into my bunk when I got in, and if that had been my head hitting the pillow instead of my sword… I was going to have to start being very careful. The official attempt on my life might have failed, but that didn't mean Atropos was going to kiss and make up.
"Hey, Boss," said Melchior, sniffing around the head of the bed, "I think there's more to this…"
He didn't trail off. I did. I could still see his lips moving, but the ringing in my ears drowned him out. I felt my knees buckling.
"Melchior," I tried to say, but I couldn't hear my own voice, "Nine One One. Execute."
The order authorized him to take whatever action he felt necessary to deal with the situation, including using magic independently. I was quite proud to have remembered to try it under the circumstances. My last thought before I went under was that it was too bad I didn't know if I'd actually said it.
* * * *
"Incoming," hissed Melchior.
"Huh?" I replied, muzzily, opening my eyes.
A clock blinked a few inches away. I peered at it blearily. After a moment I was able to recognize it as the one in my dorm. After another I was able to read it—4:00 a.m. I didn't need to be at class for another three hours, so I closed my eyes. Something sharp pinched my cheek and I opened them again.
"You've got to get up, Boss."
Mel sounded worried, and I seemed to remember he had good reason to be, but I just couldn't think straight. He poked me in the ribs with a sharp claw. It hurt, and I came a little more awake.
"What in Hades's name?" I grumbled.
He pointed to a ghostly glow near the door, an incoming locus transfer. Things started to come back to me: Atropos, the assassination attempt, my most recent injury. I moved my right hand experimentally. The pain was gone, but so was most any other sensation.
"Chaos and Discord!" I swore.
"I hope not," Melchior's replied. "Fate is giving us enough trouble without we should irritate any of the other great powers." His voice was light, but he had my pistol ready when I reached for it.
As I rolled out of bed and started slithering across the room, deep rumbling
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