“You’re the one,” said Cassandra unexpectedly, “who hired the Eumenides to eliminate Karsnov.”
Bronsky tilted his head and stared at the Amazon in astonishment. “The Unseen Three? That is their title? The Eumenides? In twenty-five years, they never once mentioned it.”
“You’ve dealt with the Furies for a quarter century,” said Jack, astonished, “and didn’t know their proper identities?”
The Russian shrugged. “It hardly seemt important. Year after year, I was given termination assignments from my superiors. Every one of them I passed on to the mysterious trio for completion. They never failed. Their payment came from a secret KGB slush fund controlled by my office. Since no one other than me knew of their existence, I received full credit for the kills. It made for an easy life. Until this Karsnov business arose. What a mess.”
“The Furies killed the scientist but they didn’t destroy his sample virus or notes,” said Jack, guessing the Russian’s plight.
“You comprehended the situation perfectly,” said Bronsky. “I sent the Unseen Three out on their mission of vengeance several weeks ago. Since nobody suspected the possibility of a new batch of plague virus, I gave no orders to my agents to destroy it. When I learned a few days ago of this auction, I realized immediately that even if the Unseen Three succeeded in eliminating Karsnov, the danger would still exist. That’s when I made arrangements to fly to Las Vegas. Whether the traitor was alive or dead, I had to attend this event to make sure his legacy did not survive. When I arrived, I learned that the Unseen Three had done their job. Now I got to do mine. Is a lot of extra work, but that’s life.
“My country wants to make absolutely sure that all traces of the infernal plague are destroyed. That is why I am here. My instructions are to spend whatever is necessary to obtain the items.”
The Russian paused. He stared at Cassandra. “How did you divine my association with the Three? I had hardly mentioned my assignment before you spoke.”
“The smell,” said the Amazon, wrinkling her nose. “The Eumenides possess a distinct odor. A trace of it clings to you.”
Boris sniffed, then shook his head. “You have a strong nose,” he declared. “It was nice talking widt you. I think before the bidding starts I will grab me another drink. All this excitement, it makes me thirsty.”
The Russian shuffled off in the direction of the punch bowl. Jack turned to Cassandra, smiling faintly. “What do you think?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “A possible ally?”
“Perhaps,” said Cassandra. “I’ve encountered men like our friend Boris before. They give the impression of being stuck in situations far beyond their capabilities. Yet somehow they always come out on top. Ineptness is a perfect disguise. Oh, damn.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Jack, swinging his head in the direction of Cassandra’s vision. He immediately spotted her cause for concern. Loki, trailed by his two ice giants, was approaching.
“What a pleasant surprise,” murmured the Norse deity. “Freda Valkyior’s son, Jack, and his darkling companion. I didn’t expect to run into the pair of you at this gathering. But I should have known better,” Loki laughed nastily. “After all, you are the Logical Magician.”
Jack didn’t bother denying his identity. A master of treachery and deceit, Loki wasn’t fooled by the simple disguises they employed. Remembering his mother’s evaluation of the trickster’s character. Jack instead went on the offensive.
“Hasan al-Sabbah told me you were scheduled to attend the proceedings,” he said casually. “I’m glad to see you here.”
“You are?” said Loki, confused. “Why is that?”
“I want the Old Man of the Mountain’s downfall tonight reported far and wide,” said Jack. “His fate is meant to serve as an object lesson to others considering plotting against me. Obviously, if Cassandra tells the tale, certain supernaturals would doubt its validity. But none will question its truth if you’re the witness.”
Jack tried imitating Cassandra’s nastiest smile. “Watch closely, Loki. You’ll learn quite a bit before the evening ends. You might even discover how a demigod can be returned to the outer darkness.”
The Norse deity licked his bloodless lips. His jet black eyes flickered uneasily. “You… you … are lying. The means do not exist.”
“Maybe not before,” said Jack, confidently. He knew he had the trickster frightened. “But I’ve developed a technique I’m confident will do the job. If you don’t believe me, look into my soul. Go ahead, I won’t stop you.”
“No,” said Loki. Anxiously, he gestured for the two frost giants to close around him. “As the prince of lies, I can easily tell when a mortal is bluffing. You’re not.”
Loki’s eyes narrowed. His voice turned mellow. “Please recall that despite our differences, I’ve done nothing to meddle in your affairs. My position has been one of strict neutrality. Any disagreements you have are with Hasan al-Sabbah and the Crouching One. I see no reason why our truce should not continue through the evening.”
“Precisely my feelings,” said Jack. “I’m glad we see things eye to eye. Otherwise, the results could be exceedingly unpleasant.”
“I think,” said Loki, nervously, “that I need another drink before the auction starts.”
Cassandra chuckled as Loki, trailed by his two frost giants, headed for the punch bowl. “Too bad Hasan isn’t serving spiked drinks,” She glanced at Jack. “Your remarks scared Loki out of his wits. Have you actually solved our impossible riddle? Can you vanquish a God?”
“Perhaps,” said Jack. “Unfortunately, it’s a method that will take weeks to work. Which means we have to survive tonight’s festivities to learn if I guessed right.”
“Elevator’s coming up,” said Hugo in Jack’s ear. The raven’s sense of hearing was incredible. “The show’s about to get on the road.”
34
“Finally,” said the Crouching One, as the elevator stopped at the third floor. “Vengeance is mine.”
“Where did you pick up that line?” asked Roger, astonished. “Reading the Bible?”
“No,” said the demigod, “Mickey Spillane. You had several paperbacks by him in your library. I found his work eminently entertaining.”
The elevator door slid open. Slowly, dramatically, the Crouching One shuffled out of the lift into the throne room. Roger sighed. The Lord of the Lions was capable of walking at a brisk pace when necessary. Tonight, it was deliberately slowing down to a crawl. The demigod had an overwhelming passion for the melodramatic. It enjoyed making everyone else wait.
“Ah, my honored guest,” said Hasan al-Sabbah, the annoyance in his eyes belaying his pleasant greetings. “We have been eagerly awaiting your arrival. The auction is scheduled to begin in minutes.”
“Very good,” said the Crouching One, smugly. “I’m glad we are not late.”
Rub it in, thought Roger.
As his mentor and the Old Man of the Mountain sparred verbally, he visually swept the room, trying to place the other participants in the auction. Roger disliked the unexpected. His master spell was aimed at the supernaturals in the chamber. He wanted a good distance between himself and any mortals present. Once the magical beings had been put in their place, the gun in his pocket would ensure the obedience of his fellow humans. If they were all in his line of fire.
The first group he spotted was Loki and his two frost giants standing in front of the punch bowl. The dark-haired Norse deity looked nervous. Roger wasn’t very surprised. According to the Crouching One, Loki put up a brave front but was a coward at heart. He was acting as an agent for an Eastern European nation that wanted the plague virus for “ethnic cleansing,” Among mortals, Loki commanded fear and respect. In the presence of Hasan al-Sabbah and Nergal, Ruler of the Underworld, the Sly One shrank to insignificance. The frost giants were immense but had the brains of snowmen. Roger dismissed Loki and his icy companions as unimportant.