Authors: R.L. Naquin
Tags: #greek mythology, #humorous fantasy, #light fantasy, #greek gods and goddesses, #mythology fantasy, #mythology and magical creatrues, #greek muse
A hand dropped to my shoulder, and I jumped.
Spinning around, I found Polly standing behind me.
“Ready?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure if I
was ready for anything. “Sure.”
She gave me a lopsided smile. “You look
terrified, Wynter. This will be fun. Trust me.”
A gangly redhead in outrageously tall high
heels appeared behind Polly. She eyed me up and down as if I were
last year’s coat hanging from a clearance rack. A brief look of
distaste crossed her face before she settled on a polite smile.
“Hey.”
Oh, she was going to be an absolute freaking
delight. I could already tell.
Polly stepped aside and held her hand out to
indicate the new woman. “Wynter, this is Audrey. She’s going to
take you out and show you the ropes.” She gave me a reassuring
smile and pat on the arm. “I’m not in the office a lot, but
Audrey’s been here a long time. If you have any questions at all,
she’ll be happy to help. Right Audrey?”
The redhead folded her arms across her chest
and leaned against the wall. “Of course. I’ll take good care of
her.”
Polly patted me again as if I were a flight
risk. “Okay, then. I’ve got work to finish up before my next
meeting. Good luck!” She darted away and disappeared into her
office.
Audrey sighed and rolled a chair over to me.
She dropped into the seat and held out her hand. “Give me your
folder, first of all.”
I handed it over. “I’ve been reading it for
nearly two hours. I don’t understand a damn thing.”
She licked her index finger and rifled
through the papers, then pulled a chunk of them out. “These are
totally bogus. You don’t need to waste your time on them.” She
dropped them in a recycling bin next to her. “And this whole
section on dress code is so outdated it’s ridiculous.” She dropped
it into the bin with the rest.
“What should I wear, then?” I tried to keep
my gaze on her face and away from her skyscraper heels. I couldn’t
possibly walk in those things. And Trina’s skirt had been so tight,
I’d never be able to sit down without ripping it if I wore one like
it. I was doomed.
Audrey snorted. “Whatever the hell you want
to wear. You’ll be invisible. Nobody cares.” She closed the folder
and handed it back to me. It weighed considerably less.
A woman with tanned skin, braids, and almond
eyes walked past, then stopped and backed up. “This her?” She gave
me the same once-over Audrey had given me.
Audrey nodded. “I was just giving Wynter the
lowdown on the dress code.” She waved her hand. “This is
Kayla.”
Kayla didn’t smile. “Welcome.” She folded
her arms and leaned against the same spot Audrey had.
“Thanks.” I swallowed. For people whose job
it was to be inspirational, they didn’t seem very friendly. “Have
you been here very long?”
She shrugged. “About six years. Most of us
have been here awhile. The rest…” She shrugged again. “The rest of
the slots have a higher turnover rate.”
I frowned. “Slots?”
Audrey and Kayla exchanged an amused look,
then Audrey cleared her throat and returned her attention to me.
“Nine muses, right? You know that much?”
I shifted in my seat, and a stab of pain
throbbed up my leg, reminding me that I’d been through worse things
than a couple of condescending coworkers in the last week. “Sure.
Nine Greek Muses. I just didn’t know the department kept with that
tradition.”
“Well, we’re mortals, not gods, so there are
three slots per original Muse. So, twenty-seven Muses per region.”
Audrey rose and pushed her chair away. “Grab your stuff, Snow
White. I’ll take you to the supply room and get you set up, then
we’ll take a ride.”
Kayla smirked. “Have fun, Snow.”
It was like being in high school again.
Except, I hadn’t put up with it in high school. I’d have to deal
with it, here, though. No more walking away from things when they
got tough. I’d signed a contract. I was stuck.
I followed her to another room where she
pointed at a wall of gold belts in various sizes hanging from
hooks. Most of the hooks had names written on small wipe-off boards
above them. One of the boards was had a black smear across it, the
name no longer legible. Audrey snatched a cloth hanging from a hook
and wiped the board clean, her face scrunched into a frown.
She turned away from the board and eyed my
figure for a moment, then chose a belt and handed it to me. “Try
this one.”
The gold was warm and lighter than I
expected, as if it were woven of spun-gold thread rather than
crafted of solid metal. I wrapped it around my waist and clicked it
in place. It settled over my hips like it was made for me.
“Perfect.”
She nodded. “Thought so.” She wrote my name
above the empty slot. “From now on, you’re responsible for that
belt. Make sure you always hang it up before you leave every
day.”
I ran my fingers over it. “It’s beautiful.
What does it do?”
She led me to a storage closet on the other
side of the room. “Your belt holds your supplies, renders you
invisible, and modifies your voice. It’s what makes a human into a
Muse.”
This was going to be the craziest job
ever.
Audrey pulled out a large plastic bottle and
a silver can, then showed me how to hook them to my belt. I was a
little disappointed. The belt went from a stylish accessory to a
piece of utilitarian equipment. The containers weren’t too big,
though, so the belt didn’t drag much.
“There’s more of everything in this closet.
When you return your supplies, refill them for the next person.
Nobody likes to get to an assignment and find out they’re out of
juice.” She grabbed her own belt and loaded it, then led me out of
the supply room.
Back in the main office, we found our way
blocked by two men standing in the middle of the hallway, talking
to each other and oblivious to our attempts to get past.
Audrey tapped their shoulders. “Step aside,
boys. I have new meat to tenderize.”
They turned slowly to face us, apparently in
no rush to comply. The one on the left was taller with a round
face, thick lips, and squinty brown eyes. The shorter man on the
right had blue eyes that were a little too wide apart on his face,
flat cheekbones, and a sparse attempt at a soul patch on his cleft
chin. Neither was terribly attractive, but the shorter one seemed
to think he was.
“Well, hello.” He scanned me up and down and
licked his lips. “New meat is always welcome in this place. I’m
Dave.” He tipped his head at the other guy. “And that’s Jeremy.
We’re the only foxes in this henhouse. What’s your name,
chicky?”
My skin felt like it was physically drawing
away from him. The guy next to this waste of air didn’t seem the
least bit embarrassed by his friend, either. In fact, Jeremy looked
as if he wanted me to answer and move on so they could resume their
conversation.
While I tried to decide on a pithy comment
that would smack this guy down, Audrey groaned and pushed him out
of the way.
“Her name’s Wynter. And we’ve warned you
about that henhouse shit before, Dave. Don’t make me call HR again.
They’re running out of sexual harassment videos for you to watch.”
She grabbed my arm and dragged me past the two guys and out into
the lobby. “I have no idea why those guys are still here. Dave’s an
ass and Jeremy’s just plain creepy. Ignore them.”
I shivered. “Hard to believe they’re out
there inspiring people.”
She shook her head in disgust as she hit the
down button for the elevator. “They get the job done, apparently. I
don’t know how.”
We stepped into the elevator and she pressed
the L button. A moment later, we were back in the atrium where I’d
started.
Audrey led me through the busy lobby, past a
man with a bull head, two arguing satyrs, and dozens of humans
traveling to and from other parts of the building. I didn’t see
Phyllis anywhere, but couldn’t stop to look for her. Audrey kept
moving toward the front door where I’d come in that morning. She
grabbed my sleeve and pulled me through. I blinked in the bright
sunlight.
We were not in Topeka, Kansas.
Chapter 8
I frowned and looked back at the door. The building
behind us was now an abandoned McDonalds. “What just happened?”
Audrey rolled her eyes. “I touched the door
first. Didn’t they explain it to you in orientation?”
I shook my head. “If they did, I missed it.
We’re not in Topeka?”
“No, we’re in Charlotte, North Carolina.”
She waved her arm. “This is the town I’m connected to, right
now.”
“So, I live in Topeka, but I work in
Charlotte, halfway across the country?” My head felt like it was
full of bees. “What if I went out the door first?”
“Then we’d be in Topeka. Your base.” She
pointed at a single car in the parking lot as she walked. “Your
assignments will be in Topeka when you’re on your own.”
It made sense, if I didn’t think about it
too hard. All week I’d been parking on the street in the worst part
of town outside an abandoned building. No other cars were parked
around me, and the only person I saw was that homeless dude who
hung out near the entrance.
I glanced back at the empty restaurant as I
slid into Audrey’s car. A scruffy man walking a pair of corgis
appeared around the corner. He raised his arm and waved at Audrey,
and she waved back.
Interesting. Next time I saw the homeless
dude in Topeka, I’d have to take a closer look.
Unless he was peeing on the wall again. I
did not want a closer look at that.
Audrey drove us across town with the radio
up loud enough to discourage conversation. I hoped she’d warm up to
me eventually, but so far, I was still feeling a chill from her.
Maybe that was her personality, or maybe she disliked training new
people. Who knew? For now, though, I tried not to rub her the wrong
way. I already felt like I was off to a rocky start at this new
job.
We parked and left the car at the curb in an
average-looking suburban neighborhood filled with older trees,
two-story houses, and family cars in the driveway.
“The first thing you need to know is about
parking.” Audrey pressed the auto-lock button on her keys and the
nondescript, blue four door’s lights flashed. “One block up, one
block over. That’s the rule of thumb. Of course, you can’t always
do it that way, but that’s the ideal we strive for. The most
important thing is not to park right out front. Especially since
you could end up going to the same place every day for weeks. Don’t
look like a stalker. Neighborhood watches are filled with
assholes.”
She handed me a sheet of paper with a name,
address, and description of a person living at that location. The
address was 1311 Oak Street. We currently stood in front of 1214
Elm Lane. I glanced at my high heels and made a face. Then again,
hers were three times higher than mine. She must’ve built up some
stamina to wear the damn things every day.
We walked one block up, then turned the
corner and walked half a block before Audrey stopped me.
She glanced around. “Okay. This is where it
gets tricky. Give a little look around to be sure no one’s
watching. It’s okay if they see you. They’ll forget. But if they’re
actually watching you, they might remember.” She looked around
again, then pointed to a spot on my belt buckle. “Now, press that.”
She did the same.
Absolutely nothing happened.
“What did we do?” I held my hand out and
examined it. No difference. Not even a fancy shimmer effect.
She took off again, talking over her
shoulder. “We’re invisible.”
“I can
see
you, you know.”
She flapped her arm at me but didn’t slow.
“Of course we can see each other. We both have belts on.”
“Oh. Of course.” I directed a scathing look
at the back of her bobbing head.
We turned again at the corner, walked past
two houses, and stopped at a brown and blue house with a detached
garage. Audrey held up the paper and squinted at the numbers above
the front door. “This is it.” She marched up the front steps and
took my arm. “Hold your breath.”
I didn’t have time to do anything. She
yanked me through the front door before I had a chance to inhale. I
couldn’t have breathed if I’d wanted to.
My head spun and my stomach lurched. I’d
walked
through
a door. A
door
.
Of course, I hadn’t thought it through
first. Walking through walls and doors was how it would have to
happen. We couldn’t exactly ring the doorbell and wait to be let
in.
A soft scuffling came from another room, and
we followed the sound. A woman not much older than I was sat on the
floor in front of a small wooden table. Paints, brushes, and
newspaper lay scattered around her, untouched.
The look of despondency on her face didn’t
alter when we entered the room. Up until that point, despite having
been pulled through a solid door, I hadn’t really believed people
couldn’t see me. Being invisible isn’t exactly something a person
should take on faith.
“Okay. Let’s get to work.” Audrey unhooked a
bottle from her belt and unscrewed the top. “This is your most
important tool. Everything else is meant to make things easier for
you. But if you don’t have this, you can’t do your job.” The cap
came off with a plastic stick attached inside. At the bottom of the
stick was a loop.
My eyes widened. “Are those soap
bubbles?”
“These are Transmutational Thought
Transference Bubbles. We just call them Thought Bubbles.” She
dunked the wand in the solution, pursed her lips, then blew a
stream of bubbles in the direction of our would-be artist.
Some of the bubbles went wild and floated
away. Others popped before they reached her. One bounced off her
shoulder, and another smacked her right between the eyes before it
splattered in a rainbow. I winced, but she didn’t react.