MORTAL COILS (45 page)

Aaron
wore worn jeans and boots and, of all the ridiculous things, a
rattlesnake-banded cowboy hat. Next to him, propped against the railing, was a
metal bar with either end chewed.

Henry
joined him and leaned recklessly over the edge. “You look like you have
swallowed a skunk.”

“The
Council speaks,” Aaron replied, “but through layers of meaning meant to hide
their hearts.”

“That
is the short definition of politics.”

“I
thought you said politics was ‘the art of getting everything from everyone
using the illusion of compromise.’ ”

“That
is also its definition,” Henry said. “There are thirteen if you’d care to hear
them all.”

“I
grow tired of the games.” Aaron spat over the edge and watched it fall. “Where
do we belong? In the clouds? Down there? Or perhaps we have no place at all to
call our own.”

“Do
not be so morbid.” Henry handed him a handkerchief to wipe the spittle that
clung to his long mustache.

How
many of their kind had simply wandered off when taken with these moods? Direct
men like Aaron were the most susceptible. Like Poseidon, perhaps the strongest
of them all, who ended his days snorkeling too close to the Bikini atoll in the
spring of 1954.34 It was odd how the simple ones always sought such dramatic
ends.

This
is why Henry considered it his duty to stir the pot. His role in the family was
that of a hurricane, disrupting the normal course of things (with him, of
course, in the calm center). How else would any of them survive the boredom?

He
felt a twinge of jealousy, however, that the Post children were the most
exciting thing to happen in decades—and none his doing. Audrey of all people
had managed it, the last he ever expected to be so rebellious.

Still,
he adored Eliot and Fiona; they reminded him that their kind could be innocent
. . . at least for a time.

From
the apex of the zeppelin a silver bell chimed.

“Let
us get the talking over with,” Henry said, and set his hand on Aaron’s shoulder.
“And then we can get drunk in Morocco.”

Aaron
laughed. “Another adventure, old Wolf? Very well.” He plucked up the iron
spike.

They
strode up the curve of the airship to the observation platform perched on the
very top.

Gilbert
had insisted they meet here, “a proper venue” he claimed. He had gathered
leather couches and tables of food and drink so they would have every comfort
as they soared through the clouds.

Gilbert
greeted Aaron and Henry with hardy claps on their backs. His golden hair and
beard had been immaculately braided. He wore linen and a coat of gold as he
used to in the old days.

Something
had changed in Cousin Gilbert. He seemed more alive than Henry had seen him
since he lost the woman he loved and his best friend so long ago. Had recent
events rekindled the sparks of his once kingly greatness? Was Cousin Gilbert
again Gilgamesh?

“There’s
Ström vodka and beluga caviar,” Gilbert said.

“Little
eggs are hardly a meal for men,” Aaron muttered.

“We
go to Morocco after this,” Henry said. “Join us?”

Gilbert
tilted his head. “Yes. Today, I feel ready for anything.”

34.
On March 1, 1954, a hydrogen bomb, code-named Bravo, was detonated on the
surface of the reef in the northwestern corner of Bikini atoll.—Editor.

Aaron
exchanged a look with Henry, as surprised as he was by Gilbert’s willingness to
have a little fun. It had been a long time.

Aaron
took Gilbert by the arm and they moved to the tables. “Then let’s start.
Vodka’s better than nothing.”

Henry
stayed behind. There were regrettably still serious matters that he could not
face with a head full of liquor.

He
surveyed the platform. They had a proper quorum: seven Council members.

Lucia
wore a white silk dress that flowed about in the breeze like the petals of an
intricate orchid. She sat apart from the others, a large book open in her lap,
its pages fluttering.

Cornelius
sat cross-legged on the platform’s edge. The old man had no papers—they would
all have blown away. Instead he favored a half dozen tablet computers, which
surrounded him in an arc, aglow with simulations and spreadsheets and NASA star
charts.

And
the two Council members who had missed their first meeting on the Post children
were here, sitting side by side upon one couch.

Dallas
had come from St. Petersburg, where she spearheaded its burgeoning avant-garde
film industry. She wore a tiny fur hat and a matching mink miniskirt. Adorable.
She was dangerous as well, and she reminded Henry of this by smiling at him,
flashing her dimples, making his pulse quicken . . . and making him forget all
for a moment.

He
held up his hands. “Please, madam, your charms can wound the unprepared.”

She
giggled, and the sound was like crystal ringing.

Next
to her was Kino, skin the color of ebony slate—and so tall that even sitting he
was the same height as Henry. He had left his island paradise to be here. He
looked none too happy about it.

Kino
tipped his top hat at Henry and rapped his cane twice on the platform. “Are we
to start?” he demanded. “I am eager to hear more—especially since I have missed
so much of this theater with Audrey and her children.”

“By
all means,” Dallas said, crossing her long legs. “What have you found, Lucia?
Do you need help with the big words?”

Lucia
removed her reading glasses and looked up from her book. “I am just on the last
entry. Vanquish apparently has a half dozen meanings.”

Henry
spared a glance at poor Robert.

His
new Driver sat on the opposite side of the platform, alone on a loveseat,
looking as uncomfortable as any boy could after he had made his report. Well,
it was his job to report these things to the Council. Robert would survive the
process . . . or not.

Of
course matters were a tad more complicated: Robert was in play now. Audrey had
a knack for drawing Henry’s minions into her games. She had killed Welmann and,
with the help of Fiona’s unwitting and naïve charms, had made a pawn of Robert.
How many more would Henry have to sacrifice to the Cutter of All Things?

He
felt for the boy. A hero’s job was difficult. He’d have to give Robert a long
vacation after this.

Lucia
slammed shut volume forty-eight of Sanswret’s Unabridged Dictionary and tossed
it onto the platform.35

“It
is as they say.” Lucia shot a glare at Robert, and he squirmed in his seat.
“The second entry for vanquish is to overcome an opponent by means ‘other than
physical.’ ”

“Then
it’s settled,” Henry said, clapping his hands together. “They ‘vanquished’ the
beast with an act of heroic kindness and a song. They passed.”

“Not
so fast.” Lucia narrowed her eyes. “Our intent was that they slay the old
wyrm—not loosen him again upon the world. Do you know the trouble he has caused
us?”

Henry
shrugged. As far as he was concerned, a little trouble was a good thing, but he
knew better than to say this when Lucia was in a volatile mood.

Cornelius
cleared his throat. “It is a technical win by the most microscopic of margins.”
He consulted his spreadsheets. “As with previous calculations regarding these
two—they balance on a razor’s edge. And I agree with Lucia, they perverted the
intended objective of the test.”

Aaron
tossed back a shot glass of vodka. With face flushed and still holding the iron
spike, he stepped forward. “A warrior’s greatest achievement

35.
This unusual set of dictionaries contains a lexicon of modern English, but in
addition also a heroic effort to list all words lost from usage as well,
including but not limited to names banned by the early Egyptian dynasties for
offense to the gods; magical phrases reputed to set the speaker aflame; and an
entire volume dedicated to the words of the barbarian shamanistic tribe of the
Utites destroyed by the Romans in 120 c.e. The collection was commissioned by
the Carolingian dynasty in the eighth century, but oddly then ordered burned by
Charlemagne after he was crowned Emperor. One incomplete set survived and was
reprinted in 1922 by Hafterberry Brothers of London. No more than a dozen of
the seventy-two-volume sets were ever produced. Victor Golden, Golden’s Guide
to Extraordinary Books (Oxford: 1958).

is
to make an ally of an enemy. The children clearly won. Or do we only follow our
laws when it suits us?”

“We
follow them,” Lucia said in a calming voice as if she spoke to a contrite
child. “But Fiona and Eliot are not yet part of this family. They are not
subject to the same exactness of our rules.”

Dallas
stood and smoothed her miniskirt. “I think you’re the one playing with words
now. The kids won. You’re just sore because you didn’t want them to.”

Did
Henry’s ear deceive him? Or did he detect a hint of auntly protection for Eliot
and Fiona? Or was it just Dallas’s instinctive reaction to oppose whatever her
sister favored?

Kino
stood and drew himself up to his full height. “No. It is as Lucia states. This
is ambiguous. Our rules do not yet apply to these two. That is what the three
trials will settle.” Kino turned to Aaron. “You jump ahead of things.”

Aaron
locked eyes with him and flipped the iron spike end over end as if it were a
toy baton.

“I agree,”
Cornelius chimed in. “As far as I am concerned, we judge them as if they are
outsiders until proven otherwise.”

Gilbert
laughed, attempting to diffuse the building tension. “I think we’re missing the
point here. They are part of the family. Audrey is our kin and has—”

“No,”
Lucia said. “This is the heart of the matter. The trials will prove them part
of this family, as ordinarily mortals, or belonging to that other, lower
family. Only then can they be judged by our laws.”

“Yes,”
Kino said, crossing his arms.

Aaron
gripped the iron spike so tightly that the metal popped. The wind stilled,
seeming to hold its breath. “Fine,” Aaron said. “Then let us determine what
their next trial shall be.”

“I
do not believe,” Lucia said, “that we have come to a consensus if they passed
this first one.”

Henry
saw Robert working himself up to stand and say something on the twins’ behalf.
He caught the boy’s eye and gave him a subtle shake of his head.

Robert
obediently sank back into his couch.

Brave
boy. But foolish to open his mouth. Henry had no desire to find yet another new
Driver.

Besides,
more talking would only polarize them now. Henry would have to work hard to
blur the political lines being drawn here today.

“I
move we vote on this matter,” Henry said. “Can I have a second?”

“You’ve
got it Silvertongue,” Dallas said before Lucia objected.

Lucia
tilted her head at Henry. “Excellent timing,” she whispered. “Very well. I vote
no. The twins failed to perform as we wished.”

Aaron
snorted. “They passed. That is my vote.”

“I
disagree. They did not pass the trial as specified,” Kino said with a
conciliatory note. He removed his top hat, smoothed his bald head, and gave a
short, apologetic bow in Aaron’s direction.

They
all turned to Cornelius. He waved his hand over his computers and they shut
down. “I must abstain. All is in balance within a slight margin of error. The
truth cannot be determined.”