Grapeshot Pantheon Page 12

  “Are you okay?” Tethis asked. “Meg didn’t grab you, but one of her wings are broken, and-”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Liam said, shaking his head. “Can you get this?” he nodded to his knee.

  Tethis nodded. “I can – well, partially. I can speed the healing process.” She reached into her fanny pack – Liam wondered where she had gotten that – and tugged out one of her magic storage crystals. It glowed, but only fitfully. She sighed. “I burned through a whole crystal to cast the slow fall spell on us. I’m not exactly energy efficient when it comes to non-healing magic.” She shook her head. “So, I have to stretch this out to cover you, the aides, the President, Fizit, Meg, and the pilot.”

  Liam nodded. “So, the pilot made it? What about the co-pilot?”

  “Oh, uh, not our pilot,” Tethis said, her ears drooping. “She ejected from one of the F-16s right before the lightning hit it.”

  Liam frowned, slowly. “Cast on my leg, Tethis.”

  “Sorry,” Tethis said, seeing his expression.

  Liam laughed. “It’s not you, Tethis.” He smiled, squeezing her rump. She squeaked and laughed, her ears flicking up. “It’s the fact that we all landed on this island. Even a pilot in a plane almost a mile off.”

  Tethis frowned. “You think the storm herded us here?”

  “I bet once Ares wants, he’ll be back around to play with us,” Liam said as Tethis knelt down. She placed her palms on his knee, magic glowing. Liam hissed quietly as he felt his knee settle ever so slightly. Tethis then started to work on the more physical tools of her trade, pulling a pair of scissors from her new fanny pack. She cut another strip from her shirt, leaving it even more scandalously exposed, and then started to fish out bits of metal from the pack.

  “In a day, you’ll be able to take this off,” she said as she bound up Liam's knee. “You’ll be good as new!”

  “I will remind myself that, normally, a dislocated kneecap takes months of physical therapy.” Liam said, groaning as Tethis stood and grabbed onto his arm. She had to throw her entire weight into dragging him to his feet, and when she had managed it, she ended up on her rump. Thethis stood, brushing herself off with a laugh.

  “I spoil you normally, I know,” she said, cheerfully.

  Liam limped back to the base camp with Tethis and breathed a slow sigh of relief. Meg was looking crotchety at her wing being splinted out, but Fizit, Amanda, Simone and the two Presidential aides were looking fairly calm. Fizit was speaking to Amanda, while Simone was checking her pistols and the other firearms that had been salvaged from the wreck. The aides were the ones who looked like they were the least comfortable with their situation. The younger one was shivering, her knees drawn up against her chest, while the older one was patting her back gently.

  The F-16 pilot looked as if she had had the worst landing – her legs were laid out in splints and she was laying on her back, glaring at the sky. Her flight uniform looked ripped and torn, but no one had tried to take it off and replace it with something better.

  “Liam!” Meg exclaimed, springing to her feet.

  “Good to see you’re alive,” Amanda said, her eyes actually lightning up as she looked at Liam. Her eyes swept from his face to his feet in a single smooth motion and Liam actually saw her tongue dart along her lips. Liam looked down at himself.

  Somewhere during the descent, his shirt had gotten torn off.

  He hadn’t even noticed he was shirtless.

  He was so used to it!

  Liam felt a bit awkward, suddenly. He limped carefully over and sat down next to the pilot. “You-”

  “My spine’s broken,” she said, angrily. “How the fuck do you think I feel, Ambassador Vanderbilt?” She paused. “Sorry, Madam President.”

  “We’re all in a tough situation, Captain,” Amanda said, her tone light.

  “Ah,” Liam said, then looked at Tethis.

  Tethis gave him a thumbs up, then mouthed the words ‘two days.’ Liam shook his head in slow wonder. That was a facet of Purgatorian life he wanted to see brought to Earth as quickly as possible. He looked back at Amanda and Fizit and Meg. Then his brow furrowed. “Where’s Liv?”

  “Right here,” Liv said, a shadow announcing her arrival. Her feet touched down to the ground next to Liam as she settled down.

  “What did you find?” Amanda asked.

  “I flew for ten minutes in each direction,” Liv said. “And saw nothing but water.” She shook her head. “No sign of the bastards.”

  “Did you ever get a look at them?” Liam asked, looking at the pilot. She shook her head mutely. Her glare hadn’t abated.

  “So, Ares has us penned up,” Meg growled. “Just in time for us to miss a big United Nations meeting. Now why on Earth would he want that?” She looked at Amanda.

  “Well, since I was going to start bringing a resolution about to organize a multi-national effort against his nascent cults,” Amanda said, dryly. “I imagine he might take offense at that.”

  “You’re not thinking 'holy shit, we’re fucked' enough, Madam President,” Meg said, her hands going to her knees. “Ares didn’t convince a fuckton of people on Purgatory that he was the one True God because we’re a bunch of idiots, you know?” She shook her head. “Liam has told me that he can read minds. If he doesn’t have a way to influence them, then I’m an elf. And now, there’s a collection of your world leaders in one area, without a demigod, a hero, or mage in sight to protect them from that. Hell, even if his plan is only to show up and kill everyone, that’s bad enough.”

  Amanda rubbed her temples. “Jesus Christ, Obama had it easy.”

  Liv stood. “Then I guess it’s up to me,” she said. “I got to get my ass to Geneva.”

  Amanda frowned. “And you know where Geneva is, and the correct protocols to get in and not just get your ass shot off?”

  Liv scowled. “I can catch bullets, Amanda.”

  “That’s President Deinhardt,” Amanda said, her voice flat. Liv looked at her. Then she looked at Liam. Then she looked back at her. Liv smirked.

  “Right. President Deinhardt. I can catch bullets. I don’t give a shit what the UN guards do.”

  “Uh, Liv?” Liam said. “Kicking in the door is a real great way to get absolutely no one to listen to you. That’s exactly what Ares wants.”

  “Arrgh!” Liv snarled, then kicked hard at the ground. “Fine!” She started to pace. “Fine!” She closed her eyes. “What would Brax do? He’d...” She paused. “Get allies. I do know the way to the White House. I can go there and tell General Sung what’s happened. He can send a message to Geneva, and sends rescue for you.” She nodded.

  “You know the way to the White House? From here?” Amanda asked.

  “I’ve been there before,” Liv said, shrugging. “I just go back the way I came.”

  Amanda looked skeptical. Liam shrugged and spread his hands. Superpowers, that shrug seemed to say. We can figure it out later. But before he could say anything more, Liv apparently decided that that was enough talk. She shot into the air with a backwash that sent a plume of sand roaring outwards towards the thin copse of trees that made up the island’s center. As the pattering sound of sand sliding off leaves finished, Amanda shook her head.

  “Well, what do we do till then?” she asked.

  Fizit stood. Her hands went to her shirt and she causally slipped it off and over her head. Her full, perfect breasts bounced and jiggled as she rolled her shoulders in a slow, graceful arc. Her hands went to her leggings and she undid the belt and the button and zipper in a flurry of thumb twists. Her pants hit the ground a moment later and her gloriously curvaceous body shimmered like emeralds in the noon-day sun. She groaned quietly. “Holy shit, I almost feel warm...”

  Amanda was gaping at her, her eyes wide as saucers. Liam tried to get his mouth working.

  Fizit snorted. “I’m going fishing,” she said, shaking her head. “Perverts.”

  “R-Right...” Liam said, slowly, watching as Fizit wal
ked towards the beach. She rolled her hips with every step, setting a delicious jiggle through her full rump. Her feet sank into the surf and waters rushed around her ankles and her calves, sluicing up her shins, adding a glittering sheen to her scales. She lifted her arms above her head, then dove into the water with a fluid grace. Liam crossed his leg over his other leg, wincing as he jostled his knee somewhat. But it was worth it to hide his sudden erection from the President of the freaking United States of America.

  Amanda herself looked as if she was reconsidering some facets of her personality.

  “W-While we wait for that,” she said, her Texan accent coming in thicker than ever. “Uh, Missy!” She looked at the younger aide, who had stopped shivering and started to blush nearly as crimson as her maroon pantsuit. “Why don’t you start gathering us some firewood?”

  “Yes, uh, Madam President!” Missy said, standing shakily.

  “You could bounce a quarter off that ass,” the other aide whispered, seeming to be in a daze.

  “Martin,” Amanda said, her voice growing more controlled and significantly less amused. “Why don’t you start getting stones for the fire pit?”

  “Yesmadampresident!” Martin said in a single, quick slur. He staggered to his feet and took off at a run.

  With the campsite now reduced to Liam, the President, Meg, Tethis and the pilot, Liam tried to find some words to say after that display.

  “I got to ask,” Amanda said, slowly. “Are all women on Purgatory like you?”

  “Oh, no, some are real sluts,” Meg said, cheerfully.

  “Meg!” Tethis exclaimed.

  “You’re the one intimating that being a slut is bad by getting offended by my terminology. I offered no value judgments. Those were brought by your-” Meg started.

  “I think that’s literally the only time I’ve ever know you where you used the word ‘slut’,” Liam said, grinning as he wiggled his fingers at Meg.

  Meg scoffed.

  “To answer your question, Amanda,” Liam said. “Women on Purgatory are, uh, more, er, uh, less concerned with two things on Earth that might put a dampener on anyone’s ardor: Sexually Transmitted Diseases and pregnancy. Most people on Purgatory can’t fertilize one another without sophisticated magic.” He shrugged. “And they didn’t have Saint Augustine shaping their early religion into an anti-sex platform.”

  Amanda nodded, slightly. “And what about you?”

  Liam blinked. “What about me?”

  Amanda smiled. “We’re about a thousand miles from any paparazzi, I might as well take advantage of my chance to ask all the questions I’d never get to ask in normal circumstances.” She leaned forward. “How did going to Purgatory change your view of relationships?”

  Liam’s cheeks flushed.

  “Okay,” the pilot said, a slow grin spreading across her face. “I changed my mind. Breaking my spine was the best decision I made today.” Her voice was weak and still tinged with bitterness, but Liam took some heart at her attempt at humor.

  Liam paused. He actually took a moment to consider his own feelings. Coming home, seeing his mother’s reactions to his new relationships - they had awakened feelings long buried on Purgatory. One of the nice things about an endless string of pressures was that he had next to no time to worry about any of them. He sighed, slowly. “To be honest?” he said. “Part of me really is worried that a part of me is broken.” He tapped his forehead. “Can I see any relationship as anything more than just when I eventually get to plow them?”

  “Yes,” Meg said.

  Liam blinked and looked at her.

  Meg sighed. “I’m your wife, honey. And thus, I am far smarter and more perceptive than you.” She tapped her nose with a cheery grin. “And you may fuck each of us. But you treat us different. Liv, you guide. Me, you rely on. Fizit, you scheme with. And Tethis, you pet.”

  Tethis flushed. “I beg your, I, that, we, hey!” she spluttered.

  “You used sex as a diplomatic weapon with Neriad, and under a kind of duress with Mary – then, later, as a way to cement an alliance,” Meg said, shrugging. “I think it’s these Earth people who are stupid enough to collapse sex into one thing. Like you can subdivide a ‘type’ of relationship the way you classify a genus.”

  Liam smiled. “Thanks, Meg. I knew there was a reason why I married you.”

  “Yes, my tits, we know,” Meg said, grinning impishly.

  Amanda, whose cheeks had never quite dipped below ‘flushed’ for the whole conversation, laughed. “This is going to sound right foolish,” she said, her Texan twang adding a delicious color to her words. Liam hadn’t realized just how he had missed various English accents until he had them back. Years of having everything translated via spell had left everyone sounding repetitively ‘Hollywood’ in their accents. “But it reminds me a bit of how I manage Washington. Everyone has a different touch, and you have to wear different masks with them.”

  “Some people call that lying, you know,” the pilot said. “Madam President.” She added a moment later when she realized that Amanda was scowling at her.

  “She’s delirious,” Liam quickly pitched in. “From the magic.”

  “Yeah!” the pilot said, nodding.

  Tethis’ objections were muffled by Meg’s uninjured wing wrapping around her.

  Liam shook his head, his grin fading as he looked from Amanda’s face to the horizon. Fizit emerged from the water at that moment, her body sleeting with salt water, her long feathered hair dripping as she flipped her head. Liam wondered if she knew how many Bond girls she managed to replicate in that single movement. Though few girls in extravagant spy thrillers were allowed to emerge from the waves completely in the buff. And fewer than them were scaled in emerald and gold. And even fewer of them were carrying still wriggling fish.

  “Dinner,” Fizit said, grinning toothily at them.

  “Damn straight,” Liam purred.

  And out of the corner of his eye, he could see the President of the United States looking real damn jealous. If only for a moment.

  Chapter Seven

  The brilliant sun had drifted to the horizon. Liam sat on the edge of a dune, his knees drawn up to his chest, and marveled at the spread of oranges and purples and blues that shaded the sky. He had forgotten their exact composition in the long years on Purgatory – in Purgatory, more like. His memories had always put the orange around the sun and the horizon, with the skies above becoming darker and darker. But the real sunsets of the Atlantic were something else entirely.

  The sky remained painted in gold and fire. The clouds that drifted above seemed to burn with smokeless beauty. At the middle of the horizon, the sun was sinking into the waves, vanishing inch by inch, second by second. And shrouding the horizon like a pal of smoke was a gathering darkness deeper and more complete than anything on Purgatory. Even when the star in the center of Purgatory had dimmed to a nearly invisible disk of blackness, there had always been the slightly offset darkness of an enclosed room.

  “It’s amazing,” Meg said, her voice husky. Liam had barely noticed her stepping up next to him. She knelt down, sliding her muscular arm along his shoulders and drawing him in close. She grumbled under her breath. “Stupid splints.”

  Liam smiled. He could feel the unnatural stiffness of her wing as he leaned against his wife. She loved to ‘wing hug’ him almost as much as she adored flying, and getting a wing broken without enough magic to quickly heal it had to be frustrating as hell. His arm slid along her back.

  “You always talked about sunsets,” Meg said, shaking her head. “And your Mom, and your President, and your planet. But even after years of hearing, I never really imagined just what it would be like. Just how different it would be.”

  “Really?” Liam asked, laughing as he tore his eyes from the slowly vanishing sun and looked at the infinitely more beautiful face of his wife. It wasn’t a cheesy husbandly thing to think either. Liam could have been put before a judge and a firing squad and have easily sworn on
the Bible itself that there wasn’t even a competition between Meg and the sunset. But they weren’t in competition. The light of the fading sun and her pale complexion complemented one another, like gold on a red velvet display case.

  “What do you mean 'really'?” Meg said, sticking her tongue out at him, her nose scrunching up. “Of course reality would be different from my imagination. Or, as real as my senses can get. After all, we are all just grasping at shadows.” She grinned.

  “Oh, don’t start with the Cave again,” Liam said, shaking his head. Meg leaned her head against his shoulder, her eyes half closed as she looked at the sea. Liam reached up to gently pet her wings, careful to not hurt or jar her. His fingers worked between her feathers as he clarified. “It’s more that you act like we’re on Purgatory here. I figured that Earth didn’t phase you.”

  Meg chuckled. “Well, someone has to be the brave one in the relationship. I’m putting on a front so you have room to be emotional.”

  Liam’s face settled. He ducked his head forward, letting his chin rest against his chest, even as the sea started to grow a deeper and deeper blue as the sun finally vanished beneath the horizon. The gloriously pale light that hung around afterwards let him see his hands. He looked at the callouses – made by sword and fist blows – and the thin seaming scars from cuts. There was the deep, white line he’d given himself when he had grabbed his own longsword and used it to pummel an enemy unconscious in the most literal sense of that word.

  He’d gotten gauntlets in a hurry after that desperate fight.