Cybermancy by Kelly McCullough Page A

Melchior when I told him about it later. “But she’s right about the Raven thing. You know that, don’t you?”
    “No. I don’t.” He opened his mouth, but I didn’t wait to listen. “Melchior. Mtp://mweb.DecLocus.prime.Styx.”
    I was angry enough that I almost forgot the “Please.” When I did say it, a split second too late, I knew it sounded insincere. Melchior’s mouth shut with an audible snap. For a long moment I thought he was going to tell me to stuff it and walk away. I would have deserved it. I was clearly in a mood for self-destruction. Witness my destination.
    No one could deny that I owed Dave and Mort and Bob an apology, but the sensible thing would have been to “say it with flowers,” preferably from a great distance. I didn’t think Cerberus would eat me at this point, but I wouldn’t have bet money one way or the other.
    Melchior shook his head. His eyes practically shouted “Stupid idea, dip boy,” but he didn’t say it. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all until he eventually acknowledged my request for a gate with the formal syntax of an accepted program. “Executing. Connecting to prime.Styx.”
    A pause followed, one that stretched out unnaturally. Since we were in the apartment, he was using the hexagram Cerice and I had permanently inscribed under the oriental carpet in the living room instead of sketching one in chalk or light. On top of that, the Styx was part of the same world as Olympus, the center of the universe and home of the mweb core architecture. With that double advantage, the connection should have come so quickly that a flesh-and-blood creature like me wouldn’t even notice the gap.
    Instead, a full and unnatural two minutes passed before Melchior finally said, “Connected. Initiating Gate procedure.”
    I wanted to ask him what was up, but his expression didn’t invite conversation. He reinforced that conclusion by changing into his laptop shape as soon as light filled the gate. His lid was firmly closed. I took his point and tucked him into my shoulder bag. One more apology owed.
    Then I stepped into the light. I would soon see whether the hound of hell was still my friend.
     

CHAPTER SIX
    The second I appeared Styx-side, a great baying began. I was tempted to have Melchior gate me back out again on the spot. But that would have involved admitting I was wrong. While I might be thinking it in my own head, I still needed some time before I was willing to share. Instead of sensibly fleeing, I sat down on a rock and waited.
    The near bank of the Styx is rocky and dark, a black stone beach under eternal twilight. I’ve never been entirely certain whether it is actually in a cave under Olympus, or just in a pocket reality anchored to the mountain of the gods. There’s little in the way of living vegetation on the near shore, and what there is has thorns and spines. If it doesn’t stick you, cut you, or try to poison you, it isn’t native. The black waters flow by in unnatural silence, so the huge splash that ended the baying was all the clearer.
    Soon I could see the great vee made by Cerberus’s mighty chest cutting the water as he swam to meet me. His eyes glowed a baleful red as he glared in my direction. That was new, and the hairs on the back of my neck danced in response. Still, I held my ground. Part of that was bravado, part stubbornness, and part pure calculation.
    The river marked the ultimate border of Hades’ domain. He held sway over the ground from its far side to the physical borders of the underworld and was absolute ruler within the latter’s walls. But here, I stood on Zeus’s territory. I didn’t believe Hades was fool enough to lightly order one of the children of the Titans murdered in his brother’s fiefdom.
    Whether Cerberus might kill me without his master’s sanction made for an iffier question. After our last meeting at the gate, I was inclined to believe he wouldn’t just tear me to shreds. Shaking muddy river water all over