John Wright - Orphans of Chaos

“I had also hoped, perhaps, this might demonstrate to our fair Miss Fair, that I have a sincere interest in her well-being.

“Oh, and, of course I get to keep Mestor’s table. It will make a nice addition to the Great Hall.

“Do you have any questions, Miss Windrose?”

The posture he held me in was beginning to make my arms ache, and my shoulders were hunched up in an ongoing shrug. Against my will, little tremors were running through my body, and my fingers were twitching (with nothing to grab on to but my pant legs) and my legs kicked involuntarily, seeking some purchase in midair.

“Why are you holding me?” I said.

“Well, I wish I could make it sound romantic, but we are like bank robbers clutching a teller before us, so the bank guards do not shoot. In this case, the bank guards are monstrosities from outside of the ordered part of the universe, and their guns are very large indeed.”

“No, I mean…”

“Oh, you mean right now? I was hoping you would try to move into the spirit world, as you so thoughtfully showed me you were capable of doing when you turned insubstantial and floated out of Mr. Grim’s macramé project.”

I shook my head.

“Oh, do be a sport, Miss Windrose. I have not had a chance to say, ‘Resistance is futile!’ and ‘Escape is impossible!’ and all that sort of stuff.”

I shook my head again.

He said, “Well, if you simply take my word for it, fine. Facts, though silent, are louder than words.”

He relaxed his arms so that my feet found the floor. Not that it did me much good; my knees were now wobbly, and I was having trouble supporting myself. Not that he let go of his grip. If anything, his hands got tighter.

In fact, now that I was on the floorboards, I was forced to stand slightly closer to him, to avoid the brink behind me.

Too close. Closer than a schoolgirl should be standing to a teacher. I could smell the oil he had rubbed into his wings. It was scented, like an aftershave.

His eyes filled my sight, and my heart was hammering so in my breast that, for a moment, my breath was gone. This close to him, it was as if he and I formed our own little world, a world meant for us and us alone.

His hands were so very strong, that I was overcome with an awareness of my own fragility. It made me feel almost faint; me, the big, strong, athletic one, a little china doll in his hands.

I wondered what he was feeling, what he was thinking. He was staring down at me, an expression of perfect arrogance in his eyes. I saw how the light caressed the cheek, bringing out the contour of the muscles around his mouth, the strength in his cheekbones. There was a ghost of reddish hair to the skin of his jaw, and it created the illusion he was blushing with pleasure. Maybe it was not an illusion. His lips were ruddy, finely sculpted. I could not help but stare at them.

I realized with a fearful thrill that I had somehow come to be in the same posture girls assumed in novels when they are about to be kissed.

His voice was a warm rumble, as if an earthquake spoke. I could feel the trembling in the air.

“What am I to do with you, Phaethusa? On the one hand, you are a monstrosity from beyond the edge of space and time, a member of a race and clan bent on the destruction of this world and every other. You have powers growing beyond our control, and the danger you pose to us is real.”

“Let me go.”

“I cannot do that. Your race would see that as a signal to launch the final war, the Rangnarok.”

“No, I mean right now. I mean, let go of my arms.”

To my surprise, he did.

I stood uncertainly on the brink of the hole, rubbing my arms, and looking up at him. He still was blocking my way, huge and tall, though I suppose I could have tried to sidle past him to the left or right.

I was not sure I wanted to. I enjoyed having him have a hold of me, even if cruelly.

“We’re going to have to put you in a cell, you know, Phaethusa, at least till we can figure out what to do with you. Since you can walk through walls the only thing I can do to keep you there is threaten your friends with harm, if you attempt to escape. This is a dreadful and unseemly thing to resort to, and I fear it is turning me into a monster worse than your people are.”

“You’re not really going to put me in a cell, are you, Headmaster?”

“I fear I am. Chains, manacles, leg irons, bars on the window, whatever may be required.” His face had a hollow look to it.

“Required? Required for what?”

He barked an angry sort of laugh. “Required to undo your damage. If the factions (who never agree on anything) agreed that I was too weak or too foolish to keep you four from wandering around on your own…”

“You mean ‘escaping.’ ”

“It is quite rude to interrupt, Miss Windrose. But, yes. If the Olympians agreed that I was unable to keep you from escaping, you would be taken from me. Most likely the four of you would be split up; with Mavors, Mulciber, Lord Dis, and the Sea-Prince Pelagaeus each getting one. Or two, in the case of Lord Pelagaeus, since he might end up with Miss Fair, also. That way they could maintain the balance of the threats they pose to each other. Oh, none of you might cooperate with any of them in their wars but, then again, none of them could be certain of that, and even the prospect of your involuntary help might be somewhat alarming. A second civil war would soon start. While your people would no doubt rejoice to see us cutting each other up, you yourself might be sad to be without your playmates.”

I said, “Pelagaeus is Poseidon?”

He nodded. “We take different names in different worlds and situations. Speaking of situations, have I explained the present conundrum in sufficient detail for you to see the gravity of the matter? Certain members of the Board of Visitors and Governors were present during our recovery of you children. They saw you become a centaur; they heard Mr. Nemo cast back part of Mrs. Wren’s curse, they saw Mr. mac FirBolg’s rather prodigious leap. And no one could mistake the meaning of the vessel waiting for Miss Fair. You see, had it just been kept among us here at the school, I might have been able to hush up the matter quietly. As it is, some show of severity is required. It has to be severe enough that even people like Lord Dis will think I am too strict. I trust you comprehend what I am saying.”

“You are asking me to cooperate?” I said, astonished.

“No. I am telling you, Phaethusa, that if you deduce how to escape from the cell into which you are about to be dragged, you should fear to do it. If you deduce how to escape, don’t escape. I will harm you and my other children if you do. We are gods; we control the sidereal universe. The only result of a second attempt will be that the Olympians will take you away from me and press you into a slavery which will be far worse than study hall and being required to wear school uniforms.”

“You said ‘my children.’ ”

“Ah. Did I?”

“We’re not your children. We have real parents.”

“My students. I meant to say ‘my students.’ ”

Apparently I had not been grabbed enough that day, because now he put out his hand and took me by the upper arm again. “Come along!”

I dug in my feet, and made him drag me a few steps. I really, really did not like the idea of going into a cell.

I was leaning far back, digging my reluctant boots into the floorboards, being yanked, and stumbling, leaning back again. He was pulling me toward the door that hid the bell tower stairs.

I said, “What’s the other hand?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You said, on the one hand I am a monster. What’s on the other hand?”

“Ah. On the other hand you are a confused little girl who has gotten too big for her britches, and perhaps the only thing you need is some stern correction. In fact—!”