I Married the Third Horseman (Paranormal Romance and Divorce) (7 page)

I still felt a little leery. “So…no
‘riddle’?”

She rubbed her forehead with one furry paw
and sighed. “Fine. What time is it when an elephant sits on your
Porsche Boxster?”

I blinked, only slightly surprised by now
that she knew the make of my car. For all I knew, Dora had faxed
the Sphinx my birthdate and shoe size.

“Ah…” I said cautiously, “time…to get a new
car?”

“Got it in one. Now that you’re aware of ‘who
I am’, you need to know what this is all about.”

With that, the Sphinx got up and paced over
to the office desk. Her lion’s tail flicked idly as she touched
several of the keys. Three monitors on the wall lit up in
high-definition color. A stunning, long-tressed brunette wearing a
bejeweled silver evening gown and glittering top hat graced the
first screen. The next displayed a trio of women in conservative
business attire, looking like three generations of the same family
of accountants. They looked vaguely familiar to me.

A small group of people crowded into the
final screen. The Sphinx sat on the far left, decked out in a
dazzling red, blue, and gold Egyptian collar. On the right sat an
even larger creature – a lion-bodied being with the dimensions of a
small truck, with similar gray-and-white wings and a stern eagle’s
face. Between the two creatures stood…I let out a gasp of surprise
as I recognized the heads of four major studios.

“I see you know a few of my friends,” the
Sphinx said, nodding towards the closest of the screens. “Allow me
to explain. All of the beings who’ve populated your ‘myths from
long ago’ still exist in the modern world. It’s only logical, when
you think about it – where else are we going to go?”

“I can’t exactly argue with that,” I said
honestly.

“But in this day and age, especially with
humans being so omnipresent in the world, creatures like me needed
a way to blend in. In short, we needed day jobs.”

I considered. It did make sense. “So…you have
a day job? Here, in Burbank?”

“Of course. I’ve put my riddling skills to
good use,” she said smugly, with a satisfied twitch of her tail.
“Who do you think writes the questions for all of your television
game shows, each and every day?”

“I never really stopped and thought about it
before,” I admitted. I nodded towards the first screen. “And who is
your companion on the right?”

“The griffin? He’s my executive producer. His
name’s Merv.” She smiled, grinning at her own private joke, and
then went on to the next screen. “These three ladies here are the
Moirai
, whom you call ‘The Fates’.”

I thought for a moment. Realized why they
looked familiar – I’d seen them, at a distance, at the party at the
Thantos’ family ranch.

“They’re the ones who decide how long someone
lives or dies,” I said.

“Correct. They’re also the number one life
insurance saleswomen in the country. Trust me, they’ve never,
ever
lost money on a policy.” The Sphinx went on to the
final screen. “And this is Cee Cee. You might know her as
Circe
.”

That name didn’t ring a bell with me. “I’m
afraid I don’t.”

“Then do yourself a favor: go pick up a book
or something that can help you.” The Sphinx tapped two more keys.
The printer on her desk spit out a sheet of paper, which she nudged
in my direction. I picked it up as she added, “I’m giving you her
address in Las Vegas, and instructions on how to get in without her
security manhandling you.”

“Thanks, I think…but why do I need this any
of this?”

“Because of the reason Dora sent you to me.
You’re having an issue with at least one of the Four Brothers
Grimm, aren’t you?”

“How did you know–”

She held up a leonine paw until I went
silent.

“Let’s just say that Dora’s got…connections.
I owe her a favor as a friend, for pulling the strings that got me
this gig, and this was my chance to pay her back. She’s one of the
oldest, most powerful beings among us, and I believe that she’s the
only one who can figure out a way to break the bond between you and
Mitchel.”

That made me sit up and pay attention even
more closely, if that were at all possible.

“Then shouldn’t I go see Dora directly?”

“You
should
see her. But you’ll never
get to her without help,” came the reply. “Mitchel has enlisted his
brothers to help bring back his wife. I believe that without help,
they’ll nab you before you get within a hundred miles of Dora. And
trust me, you do not want any of them catching you.”

This whole conversation wasn’t exactly giving
me the warm and fuzzies, that was for sure.

“I trust you, believe me.”

“Cee Cee supposedly has the items you need to
get you where you need to go. That gives me hope, as she’s a very
resourceful, very old friend.”

I let out a breath, trying to absorb
everything.

“I’m noticing that a lot of your friends are
‘old’,” I remarked.

The Sphinx made a kind of shrug. “Among my
kind, they’re the only ones you’re allowed to keep. And there is
one more thing you must take with you before you leave: a
riddle.”

“And if I don’t solve it?”

“I won’t eat you. Rather, you must solve it,
in order to survive your journey to Dora.”

She paused, and her expression shifted. Went
blank. Her pupils vanished as her eyes turned into ice-cold orbs of
blue. She recited her next lines in a voice that boomed as if it
were done by a ticked-off James Earl Jones reading the Bible
through a megaphone.

“
What is it that looks like a door to
some, a passage to others, a message from those who seek to do
evil, and yet solves all of life’s problems?
”

I remained frozen in place. Afraid to move,
to speak. The Sphinx’s eyes slowly returned to normal, and she
padded over to stand in front of me, a slightly abashed look on her
beautiful face. She placed one warm, soft paw upon my shoulder as
she added a final bit of advice.

“There will come a time and a place where all
seems lost, Cassie. Where darkness overwhelms the light of the
Dancer of the Sun. And at that time, you must surrender yourself.
Surrender yourself to the answer to that riddle. And in doing so,
you will have a chance to yet triumph.”

“Can’t you…” I whispered, “can’t you
just…tell me what I need to know?”

A shake of the regal head. The beads in her
hair rustled. “Alas, that is not the way the old magic works. The
question is often more important than the answer, the journey more
important than the destination. And do not give in to despair, my
child. Fates willing, you just might make it after all.”

Freeze Frame.

Yes, yes, I know. I’m
starting off
with one of these.

Sorry if this knocks you out of the flow of
things. Tell you what, let’s make the next part go down nice and
easy by using yet another oldie-but-a-goodie from the filmmaker’s
bag of tricks: the monologue.

Specifically, let’s go for the voice-over
monologue. That’ll give both of us what we need: you get the whole
enchilada of noir coolness, and I get out of Dodge before Mitchel
shows up to reclaim me like he’s picking up his winning lottery
ticket.

Let’s kick this off with an over-the-shoulder
shot. As it happens, the drizzling rain from before was still doing
its thing. All the better for the atmosphere we’re shooting for.
Tightly framed shot, focus on the moodily lit interior of the
Porsche. The cars on the freeway swish by as my Porsche blends into
the fast lane. I turn north-by-east, fleeing before an incoming
storm front framed by clouds the color of strong tea.

My thoughts kept up with the beat of the
windshield wipers.

I feel like my world’s been turned upside
down.

No, not quite. That was when I learned who –
or maybe I should say
what
– my husband truly was. But now,
thanks to Dora and the Sphinx, I’d been given a peek behind the
stage curtain, been given a glimpse of how the world really
worked.

Greater, immensely older beings existed in
the world. Ruled their little pieces of it the way a studio boss
would run their little self-contained chunk of the universe. Magic
existed too. I supposed that I should have felt relieved about one
thing, at least. That I wasn’t losing it. Nor was I falling off the
wagon and getting ready to check into the Betty Ford Center.

Matter of fact, my threshold for disbelieving
the craziest things had just gotten its limbo bar lowered.

And rather than flying
completely blind, at least I had something else to puzzle out.
Yet
another creepy-cool riddle for Our Heroine Cassie to
figure out, before it was too late.

But you want to know how I really felt about
all of this?

Try going down to your local Chinese take-out
place. Get the Pork Chop Suey platter, extra spicy, and make a dive
for the fortune cookie come dessert. Crack it open, read the
message inside and ponder it for a moment.

Now, imagine that your life depends on
divining the right meaning from it.

That cheery thought echoed through my brain
as the freeway ramped up through the Cajon Pass. I crested the
summit just as the storm finished rolling into the Los Angeles
basin below. Stalks of lightning flickered back and forth across
the cloud’s leading edge, as if the weather were a pacing, angry
tiger.

I shuddered and pressed down on the gas pedal
until I had to stop in the town of Barstow, on the edge of the
bone-dry flats of the Mojave Desert. I pulled into a nearby service
station to top off my gas tank. Then I breezed into a nearby used
bookstore to top off my Dolce & Gabbana handbag with a
paperback book titled the
Myth-O-Pedia
. Said book was so
dog-eared that it practically sat up and begged for a treat.

Evening fell with the suddenness of a blown
klieg light as I blazed down the nearly empty freeway, one eye on
the road, the other keeping a sharp lookout for cops. Or
Apocalyptic Horsemen, for that matter. But nothing lunged out of
the blackness to pounce on my car. Another hour and a half, and I
could clearly make out the eye-catching glow of Las Vegas on the
horizon.

That glow brightened into whole rivers of
light, a ballet of glitz and synchronized glitter as I merged into
the slow-moving stream of traffic that flowed with gelatinous
majesty down the Las Vegas Strip. I checked my watch, saw that I
still had plenty of time to make my rendezvous this evening. When
I’d first read the Sphinx’s printout, a little chill had run down
my spine.

Cee Cee was at
The Grotto
tonight.
Given the age and size of some of the so-called ‘mythical’
creatures I’d been meeting, I immediately pictured some dark, dank
cave done up with lots of wriggling, squirming creatures courtesy
of the charming fellows in the F/X Department. But with a glance at
the first billboard I spotted near the Strip, I knew I had little
to worry about. It showed Cee Cee, clad in her silver
tuxedo-and-top-hat showgirl outfit and reclining on a snow-white
Siberian tiger’s back. The verbiage touted her show in ten-foot
curlicues of script.

THE GROTTO PRESENTS AN EVENING OF SEDUCTION
& SORCERY – BY THE FAMOUS ILLUSIONIST CEE CEE! MAN AND BEAST
FALL TO HER BEAUTY! ONLY AT THE ODYSSEY CASINO!!!

Yup, complete with not one, not two, but
three exclamation points. For the slow learners in the audience,
I’m guessing.

I followed the Sphinx’s printed instructions
to the letter as I pulled up to the glassy, neon-green tower that
made up the bulk of the Odyssey. Instead of driving up to the front
entrance, I headed around to the back towards the parking garage.
Once there, I slowed to a crawl, and then took an unmarked ramp off
to one side. It spiraled down three levels to a long, narrow
subterranean garage illuminated by yet more green tubes of neon and
lined with cars so expensive and well-maintained that my Porsche
looked like a smog-coated taxicab by comparison.

A splash of scarlet and black marked the far
end of the garage. As I drew closer, the colors resolved themselves
into an elevator door flanked by a quartet of security guards who
looked like football tacklers that someone had squeezed into
tuxedoes. Luckily, there was an open spot only a couple car lengths
down from the door.

I pulled in and shut off the motor. Let out a
breath. Rehearsed what I was going to say to Cee Cee’s muscle
guarding the private elevator. Did my darnedest to smooth out my
hair with whatever I had in the car. Did my level best to touch up
my face in the mirror on the back of the sun visor. Pretty hellish
job when it came to the color. Remember, all I had to work with was
the car’s dim cabin light and the garage’s sickly green neon glow.
I’d be lucky not to come out of the car looking like the Bride of
Frankenstein.