Further along are the Erinyes, who were known by the Greeks as goddesses of vengeance. You call on them to avenge yourself on someone who has wronged you, and by “wronged” I don’t mean “cut off in traffic.” It has to be a serious offense, like murdering a loved one. Erinyes have ethics. Strict ones. However, they aren’t going to talk you into turning the other cheek. That’s why they’re classified as demons. They may intend to mete out justice, but they can wreak serious havoc doing it.
Finally, the Sumerians moved on. And the Erinys moved in.
“Do you have what I need?” she whispered to Stranz.
His voice quavered as he said he did. He passed her what sounded like a piece of paper. I managed to clear a peephole through the porch, but there was no way in hell I could see what was written on the paper the Erinys was now reading.
When she finished, she crushed the paper. Light flashed. She opened her hand, and fine ash drifted to the floor. Great.
“That’s what you needed, isn’t it?” Stranz asked.
“It is. I will do as we discussed.”
Which is…? Come on, guys. Give me something…
Light footsteps crossed the porch, heading back inside. One set of footprints, as the Erinys walked away.
Shit!
I hurried around the building under the cover of a blur spell. I reached the entrance just in time to see the Erinys striding across the main room. She passed behind the three Sumerians, still discussing lunch. I saw her walk behind them… and I didn’t see her come out again. She’d crossed over to another dimension. Which one? I had no idea.
I followed Stranz instead, though I didn’t know what good that would do. Clearly the Erinys was the one to stalk now. Her mission of revenge was almost certainly what Kristof was looking for.
As Stranz crossed back into the museum, I tailed him on autopilot as I flipped through my mental Rolodex. There were two Erinyes I could speak to-one was a contact, one owed me a favor. Neither would inform on her sister, but I might be able to get some information about this particular Erinys. I could also dig deeper into Stranz’s afterlife and figure out why he’d need one of the Furies…
Yet in the afterlife, it’s hard to wrong someone so grievously that they could invoke an Erinys. Murder is out of the question, obviously. Possessions are easy enough to come by, and Erinyes don’t avenge mere theft. And what could the demi-demon inflict on a ghost anyway?
Damn. It had to be a wrong committed in the mortal realm. But I couldn’t imagine Stranz had waited thirty years to take revenge for something from his lifetime. Maybe he’d just discovered that someone he cared about had been hurt or killed. But why would that interest an afterlife prosecutor?
My brain was still spinning when I realized that Stranz wasn’t heading for the exit. I probably should have figured that out as soon as I found myself climbing stairs to the second floor, but as a celestial bounty hunter, I’m so accustomed to following people that I don’t need to engage much of my brain to do it. Once up there, Stranz didn’t seem to be sightseeing or heading to a specific destination. He was just wandering-quickly.
Had he spotted me? I saw no evidence of that. He didn’t glance back or duck down rear hallways or try to lose himself in a crowd. He just kept walking. Through Egypt, then over to Iran and Mesopotamia and across Europe.
Between Europe and Ancient Greece, there was a space for temporary exhibits. Today, it was empty. Well, empty of exhibits. Filled with people. A massive tour group milled about like a herd of lost sheep. Stranz could have gone through them or turned back. Instead he veered into a back hall, moving faster now. He turned, then turned again, getting deeper into the warren of halls. Another turn and…
Silence. One second his shoes had been tap-tapping along. Then nothing. I cast a quick cover spell. Had he heard me? Was he lurking around that corner, waiting for his stalker to pass?
Shoes squeaked on linoleum. Stranz stumbled around the corner, as if he’d been shoved out. He glanced back, face tight with annoyance, and muttered something under his breath as he resumed walking.
I let him round the next corner, then hurried down that side aisle. It was a short one, maybe ten feet long, ending at a door marked “Private” and “Please use other entrance.”
I tried the door. It was locked, and an unlock spell didn’t fix that. When I cleared a peephole, I saw a dark storage room with a massive box blocking the door.
What had Stranz wanted in that room?
I’d come back later. For now, I needed to catch up with-
The hall vanished. There was a moment of darkness, no longer than an eye blink, then I was staring at a wall. I turned slowly.
I was in a small, empty room.
The Fates have been known to reach out and grab me. Very inconvenient. But this wasn’t their waiting room, and I hadn’t done anything wrong. Not wrong enough to be worthy of their attention-they’ve learned to employ a sliding scale with me, which slides ever further toward ignoring most of what I do, because calling me on every broken rule is really too much work. On this mission, though, I’d actually been behaving. Was that the problem? I’d gone too long without getting in trouble and they were growing nervous?
No. They wouldn’t dump me in a small, empty room. I’m a little claustrophobic. The Fates can be a pain in the ass, but they’re never cruel. I paced around the room once and-
Another flicker of darkness and I was back in the museum hall. I’d walked into a dimensional slip-just as Stranz must have. Step on the right spot and in you go. Like a magical version of those bookcases that spin into a secret room.
But the secret room had been empty. Was it a dimensional hiccup? An unused pocket? Or had I missed something? Had that pocket been Stranz’s destination? Did that explain why he’d cut through these back halls?
I put my hands out, ready to start looking for that doorway again. Then I stopped. Stranz. He was on the move. This pocket wasn’t going anywhere. I hurried off to find my target.
I caught up with Stranz on the far side of the second floor, where he met his former ayami-now his wife. A blur spell got me close enough to hear him apologizing for being late. He’d come up the stairs, turned the wrong way and had to circle around the entire floor before he realized his mistake.
“So, what do you want to see?” he asked her.
“Vikings.” She smiled up at him. “I want to see Vikings.”
“Then you shall.” He looped his arm through hers. “When do we need to meet Ted and Anna?”
“In two hours at Seven Dials. There’s a lovely little pastry shop there…”
They wandered off. Two hours of Vikings followed by a visit with friends just a few blocks away. Perfect. That gave me time to check out that dimensional pocket.
I found the room easily this time. There was a certain spot you needed to step on. I did that and was teleported to the pocket, which was… still an empty room.
I set about methodically searching the pocket. I walked over each bit of floor and peered through the wall, but it was like looking out into a black hole. Same with the floor. Yet whenever I passed one section of wall, I felt a buzz, like a low-grade shock. A magical, Hey, there’s something here.
It took some work, but I found the source. A hand-sized section of wall just above the floor. I put my hand against it and-voila!-a dimensional door popped me into… another room.
For a moment, I thought it was the same one. Except when I paced it off, I realized that this room was a couple of feet smaller. Some searching located the door back to where I’d come in. I also found a door into yet another, slightly smaller room.