straying to the flickering images on the screen. But she turned to him one last time.
“There are one million square kilometers of terrain down there. It is a geography such as you have never imagined. There is a diamond the size of the Ritz sitting on top of a glass mountain. Bring me that diamond. There are tribes living in ruthless oppression, the slaves of fell creatures with eyes red and hot as coals. Free them. There are one hundred and fifty dragons, no two alike, scattered through my circumference. Slay one of them. There are a thousand wrongs to be righted, obstacles to be overcome, helpless ones to be saved. I recommend that you set out to walk around my interior. By the time you return to your starting point I guarantee your mettle will have been tested many times.
“You have to decide now. This man here and seventy-two others on Earth await you. They are damn well tied to the railroad tracks. It’s up to you to save them, and you’ll begin knowing that you may not be able to save yourself. But if you die, your death will count for something.
“So what will it be? Order a drink, or get out of my sight.”
8.
The Aviator
Robin knew better than to stomp. She had not spent the last twelve years banished to the uplight regions of the Coven for nothing. But emotionally she was stomping.
Someone was supposed to be guiding her back to the elevator, but she quickly outdistanced her. Like an ant among elephants, she threaded her way through monuments.
Ridiculous things. Was she supposed to be impressed? If waste was impressive, she was overwhelmed.
Cathedrals. Tap dancers. A bloated, obscene thing passing herself off as the Great Mother, surrounded by listless sycophants. And to top it off?
Heroes.
She spit in the general direction of Notre Dame.
Why should she want to be the salvation of twenty-six strangers? One of them was undoubtedly her father. Gaea had pointed that out, to get a blank look in return. Fatherhood was as alien to Robin as stock options.
Nothing came for free, Gaea had said. What about those twenty-six who were counting on Robin to search out a nasty, dangerous death? Her whole being rebelled against the idea. Had even one of the sufferers been of the Coven she would have moved heaven and Earth to help her. But outsiders?
She had been on a fool’s errand from the start. There was no need to compound the mistake.Staying among that pitiful pack of ass kissers was absolutely out of the question, and so was playing Gaea’s game. She would go back to where she belonged, live her life as the Great Mother intended.
She found the elevator and pressed the summons beside it. A bell rang, and she got in. Bad design, she realized, looking around for grips to hold. There were two buttons to push—one marked “Heaven,” the other “DOWN!” She hit the second one and raised her hands to catch the ceiling if it descended too fast. In that position, with that expectation, it was not alarming to feel her feet leave the floor. There was a blank moment before she realized the ceiling was not getting any closer. In fact, it was slowly receding. She looked down.
She saw her boots. Six hundred kilometers below them she saw Nox, the Midnight Sea.
Time slowed to a crawl. She felt adrenalin sweep to her extremities in a burning surge. Images swirled: brief, yet crisp with detail. The air tasted good. There was a raw power in her limbs as she reached out with hands and feet grown curiously distant. Then there was dissociation as fear and despair threatened to obliterate her.
When she began to scream, her waist was just passing the level of the elevator floor. She continued to sink, cursing and screaming lustily. The walls stayed just out of reach until they were far above her. The elevator was a diminishing box of light.
* * *
Robin’s calculations were not begun in the hope the answer would put her back among the living. She could see her death many kilometers below. What she wanted to know was how
“There are one million square kilometers of terrain down there. It is a geography such as you have never imagined. There is a diamond the size of the Ritz sitting on top of a glass mountain. Bring me that diamond. There are tribes living in ruthless oppression, the slaves of fell creatures with eyes red and hot as coals. Free them. There are one hundred and fifty dragons, no two alike, scattered through my circumference. Slay one of them. There are a thousand wrongs to be righted, obstacles to be overcome, helpless ones to be saved. I recommend that you set out to walk around my interior. By the time you return to your starting point I guarantee your mettle will have been tested many times.
“You have to decide now. This man here and seventy-two others on Earth await you. They are damn well tied to the railroad tracks. It’s up to you to save them, and you’ll begin knowing that you may not be able to save yourself. But if you die, your death will count for something.
“So what will it be? Order a drink, or get out of my sight.”
8.
The Aviator
Robin knew better than to stomp. She had not spent the last twelve years banished to the uplight regions of the Coven for nothing. But emotionally she was stomping.
Someone was supposed to be guiding her back to the elevator, but she quickly outdistanced her. Like an ant among elephants, she threaded her way through monuments.
Ridiculous things. Was she supposed to be impressed? If waste was impressive, she was overwhelmed.
Cathedrals. Tap dancers. A bloated, obscene thing passing herself off as the Great Mother, surrounded by listless sycophants. And to top it off?
Heroes.
She spit in the general direction of Notre Dame.
Why should she want to be the salvation of twenty-six strangers? One of them was undoubtedly her father. Gaea had pointed that out, to get a blank look in return. Fatherhood was as alien to Robin as stock options.
Nothing came for free, Gaea had said. What about those twenty-six who were counting on Robin to search out a nasty, dangerous death? Her whole being rebelled against the idea. Had even one of the sufferers been of the Coven she would have moved heaven and Earth to help her. But outsiders?
She had been on a fool’s errand from the start. There was no need to compound the mistake.Staying among that pitiful pack of ass kissers was absolutely out of the question, and so was playing Gaea’s game. She would go back to where she belonged, live her life as the Great Mother intended.
She found the elevator and pressed the summons beside it. A bell rang, and she got in. Bad design, she realized, looking around for grips to hold. There were two buttons to push—one marked “Heaven,” the other “DOWN!” She hit the second one and raised her hands to catch the ceiling if it descended too fast. In that position, with that expectation, it was not alarming to feel her feet leave the floor. There was a blank moment before she realized the ceiling was not getting any closer. In fact, it was slowly receding. She looked down.
She saw her boots. Six hundred kilometers below them she saw Nox, the Midnight Sea.
Time slowed to a crawl. She felt adrenalin sweep to her extremities in a burning surge. Images swirled: brief, yet crisp with detail. The air tasted good. There was a raw power in her limbs as she reached out with hands and feet grown curiously distant. Then there was dissociation as fear and despair threatened to obliterate her.
When she began to scream, her waist was just passing the level of the elevator floor. She continued to sink, cursing and screaming lustily. The walls stayed just out of reach until they were far above her. The elevator was a diminishing box of light.
* * *
Robin’s calculations were not begun in the hope the answer would put her back among the living. She could see her death many kilometers below. What she wanted to know was how
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