Gods and Monsters (9 page)

Cori crawled apelike to the front entrance and slipped out, worming her way by the windows until she was completely out of view. She debated on the elevator, and decided that the stairs were always the wisest option; or at least the most reliable. Stairs were not her favored method of transport, but the elevators had a mind of their own and found it unnecessary to make fast ascents or descents during any crisis.

She took the single flight with ease and peered out the window to the main level. She didn’t see anyone. The cafeteria was closed for the night, and the dock would have minimal staff if any. Assuming Danato was not in his office for a late night, and Ethan wasn’t in the gym working out, she was in the clear to get to the prop room without any impromptu interruptions.

She snuck down the hall, passed the darkened gym, and into the prop room. She flicked on the humming fluorescent lights that might as well have been night lights with as much illumination as they offered. She slipped through the piles of valuable, powerful, dangerous crap until she reached the area she had been in when the lamp got disturbed. She searched with her eyes, being careful not to disturb anything else. She found the snow globe, but no lamp.

“Shit, where is it?” She whispered to herself.

“Looking for this?” Danato’s voice shocked her erect and she bumped the snow globe off its pile. She caught it before it could break and add more trouble to her to do list.

Danato stood at the doorway with the lamp she was looking for hanging carefully by the crook of his finger. She gripped the snow globe like a baseball. The fleeting thought of throwing the decoration at him passed and she replaced it on the pile carefully.

If Ethan or Gypsy had stood in the doorway she might have attempted a grandiose battle or at least a heated negotiation for the return of it, but she couldn’t fight Danato. His strength was the obvious deterrent, but she just couldn’t bring herself to disrespect him in that way.

Danato seemed to recognize that. The glower that should have been painted on his face changed to calm indifference. Whether he was actually calm or just back building for a proper explosion, she wasn’t sure. He lowered the lamp. “We moved the lamps while you were occupied with Gypsy and Ethan. We suspected you would try this.”

Cori bit her lips back and nodded. She continued to under estimate Danato. The safety of the prison was always his first priority, and that would never change. “Of course,” she looked to her feet. She had practically walked right into this trap. Actually, that was exactly what she had done. He was testing her, and she failed.

“Come to my office when you’re done. Don’t forget to shut the lights off.” He left shutting the door behind him. Cori looked around the room for a hole to crawl into, but since one was not readily available, she decided to go collect her punishment.

No one jumped her outside of the room. There were no guards in the foyer to make sure she didn’t escape. Danato expected her to comply with his request. She wanted to believe it was because he was starting to trust her, but it was more likely because he knew he had what she wanted and she wouldn’t leave without it.

She raised her hand to open the door, but she decided to knock. Danato waved her in barely looking up from his paperwork. The lamp was sitting on the edge of his desk as if it was a bowl of sweets universally offered to anyone comfortable enough to take candy from a stranger.

She closed the door behind her and sat down in front of his desk. She didn’t want to show too much interest in the lamp, but she couldn’t help but observe the intricate writing on it. She had hardly afforded it a glance the first time she had seen it. She was naïve to think she was done with it when she walked away from it the first time.

“The inscription isn’t instructions,” Danato said.

“Pardon,” Cori said drawing her attention back to Danato.

His eyes peered over his glasses only momentarily offering his attention before he went back to work. “The inscription is a spell or curse if you prefer. It binds the genie to the lamp. That…” He nodded to the lamp. “…is his prison.”

“Danato…I…” She started to apologize even though she knew it wasn’t going to help.

“How many wishes have you used?” He said abruptly leaning back in his chair.

“Umm, well…I’m not sure. I wished for things to go back to normal. Since then I’ve wished to undo my wish about a dozen times.”

“You get three wishes. Those wishes are connected to you and contingent upon nothing. If you had any wishes left when you wished to undo your wishes, then that should have worked, albeit with some lasting repercussions.”

“It didn’t work though. I’m still nobody to you.”

“That means all three wishes were used by the time you made that wish.”

“But I didn’t.”

“You did,” Danato said more firmly as if that would suddenly make her change her mind. “Think back,” he said with a softer tone as he leaned back in his chair. The chair squawked in objection but maintained his large frame. “You must have wished twice before that wish. You could have said it in a dream and it still would have counted.”

“A dream?” Cori clarified. Danato nodded. She furrowed her brow trying to remember the first time she would have made a wish. “I…”

“Yes,” Danato leaned forward just slightly.”

Cori groaned and put her head down. “It was outside of my real timeline, I thought it didn’t count.”

“Timeline?”

“Long story, the rings again.” She waved her fingers.

“What did you wish for?”

“I wished that you could have a better employee than me.” Cori chuckled. “I guess that would be Gypsy.” Danato didn’t join her, but he probably recognized that she wasn’t really joyful in her laughter.

“What was the second wish?”

Cori sighed and shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“It’s been activated already. Think Cori. Genies interpret things literally. For example your version of normal and the genie’s were very different, weren’t they?”

Cori nodded. “My mother was still alive. I just finished college and was engaged to some guy. It was what I used to imagine my future to be, before…” She frowned and exhaled. Danato waited for her to verbalize her epiphany. “I wished that I had never come here. I was referring to…oh son of a…he took me back to life without the prison, and then stuck me in my future version of normal.” Cori shook her head. “I’ve used all three wishes.” 

Cori slumped back in her chair. Her eyes were watering, but she felt stressed more than sad. It never occurred to her that she might be stuck with her wish—wishes. “I’m stuck here aren’t I?”

She could see Danato debate on how to respond. She laughed, letting one or two tears out before she got control of them. “You don’t know how honest to be. Despite what you think of me, I’m tougher than I appear. If I can’t change things back, just tell me. As much as I love all of you, I would rather go back to my mother and get to know my new fiancé then live a life that is persistently two steps left of where it should be.”

When Danato still didn’t answer, she assumed the worst and fought back the pain of his indifference. She stood up, clearing her throat of the lump that would prevent her from appearing composed. “With your permission I’ll leave on the next truck. I won’t bother you again.” She moved to the door, hoping against hope that he would stop her, but her hand hit the knob without any objection.

Cori twisted the knob, and pulled but the door didn’t budge. She pulled harder assuming it had only stuck, but she couldn’t move it. She turned back to Danato for an explanation, but he seemed rather surprised by the immobile entrance. “Have a seat,” he said trying to hide his surprise by burying his head in paperwork.

She complied while Danato fiddled with his pencil. He was probably deep in thought, but his eyes were resting firmly on her. “I want to help you, Cori,” he said it with finality, but she still waited for the qualifier to follow. She wasn’t sure what he could do to help, or what she could say to sway him further onto her side. “I don’t entirely trust you, but only because I believe you. I’ve been tricked before. You have to understand that the power that genies possess is nearly infinite. They are contained deities. If your rings were to absorb that power…”

Cori shook her head. “No, I don’t think it works that way…at least not so far. The power must be tangible. Ethan’s friend used his power on me and I definitely didn’t absorb that.”

“Perhaps, but you are preventing the genie’s power from working on you.”

“What do you mean? I’m here aren’t I?”

Danato leaned forward. “Cori the reason we are reluctant to believe you are the victim of a genie, is because you know you are a victim. You shouldn’t remember your old life, just as we don’t remember you. Something—I assume it is those rings—is preventing you from forgetting.”

“Maybe it’s not the rings. Cleos put a block in my mind to prevent anyone from hypnotizing me. Maybe somehow it’s preventing me from forgetting.” Danato didn’t argue with that point, but he didn’t acknowledge that she might be right. He just continued to battle his own thoughts. “I know you have a duty Danato, but I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know what else to do to convince you.”

“I told you I believe you. I just don’t trust you.”

“You don’t have to trust
me
. Just trust your instincts. Put away the rule book. I know you want to. Tell me…is there a way to undo my wishes?”

Danato paused debating the last vestiges of his protocol. “Yes.”

Cori clapped her hands together and held them to her mouth. She released the tension she had been holding and pushed away the emotions that wanted to replace it. She wanted to jump across the desk and hug Danato, but for obvious reasons she resisted. “Then please, help me return things to my not so normal life.”

“I…” His voice trailed off and his eyes moved behind her. The door to the office opened and Cori’s enthusiasm for their progress waned even before Belus came into her view.

Belus looked between them and then at the lamp. He was usually a reserved man without obvious opinion on his face, but he didn’t seem to be able to hide his disapproval of her. Cori wondered why looking like Danato’s dead wife drove ire into his eyes.

“Why is she still here?” Belus asked as if she weren’t in the room. She looked away from them given them the privacy required to have a conversation about her, behind her back.

“She is still here, because I am asking her the questions that you didn’t this afternoon.”

“This is a waste of time. She needs to be contained,” Belus spat.

“What do you suggest?” Danato lowered his voice even more, so it sounded like distant thunder instead of a whisper. “The only way to contain her with those powers is to put her up with the elementals.”

Cori’s tension returned, but she resisted every instinct to beg against that prospect. She needed to let Danato defend her. Belus would still follow Danato’s orders even if he didn’t agree with them. Her contributions on the other hand would only make the argument leading to that conclusion more arduous.   

“We can put a single guard on her with an elemental weapon,” Belus suggested. Danato sat back in his chair. He wasn’t so much contemplating the suggestion as giving Belus a chance to reconsider his perspective before they ended up in a full scale argument. Belus must have sensed he was on losing ground even with his insistence. “What do you suggest we do?”

“I think it’s time we got to the bottom of this once and for all.”

“I thought we were waiting for the medical report.”

Danato didn’t so much roll his eyes as blink away his lassitude from the conversation. “She’s human Belus. Can we move on? I know why you are fighting this so hard, and I appreciate that protection, but I think
you
are now the one getting distracted by her resemblance.”

Belus looked to her and she caught his eye before looking away. He seemed to be accusing her of something, but it faded until something of his normal demeanor returned. Danato recognized the change as well. “Good, now let’s talk to the genie.”

17

Cori wasn’t sure what she expected to happen when Danato pulled the lid off the lamp. Perhaps she expected the genie to announce his presence with a grand impossibly echoing voice and demand a reason why he was summoned to this place. She certainly wasn’t prepared for his smoky form to solidify in the chair next to her with a pile of scrolls—that despite his phenomenal cosmic power required him to wear a magnifying monocle to read them.

His bald head and shirtless torso was covered in tattoos that mirrored the lamp. She started to understand what Danato meant by him being imprisoned. Judging by the sheer number of tattoos—which covered every bit of his exposed skin—she had to assume that he was being secured by a very powerful spell. In turn, that led her to conclude the man sitting beside her, reading his scrolls as if it was a commonplace event, may have been the most powerful being in the entire prison, save…no one.

She gulped at that thought. She had been so wrapped up in her ordeal with Efrat at the time; she hadn’t even considered him a threat. Now she wasn’t sure she even wanted to proceed with negotiating with him for fear of how much worse he could make her life.

Sensing her eyes on him, he looked over at her for the first time. She didn’t want to be openly staring at him, but she couldn’t help it. He saw her trancelike fear and smiled. It wasn’t the manic leer of a deviant mind, nor was it the cocksure sneer of a man proud of his accomplishments, it was just a smile. That perplexed her even more, but when she opened her mouth to speak to him, he returned to his scrolls.