What do you know about Gaea?
"Nothing much," I answered after chewing another slice of steak. "I didn't even know she and her boyfriend were living here until Hadrian mentioned it." I was about to feed myself a spoonful of mashed potato when a question occurred to me. "Do you know anything about them?"
What do you want to know?
"Anything," I answered eagerly. "Why they came to live here, who's their favorite Kardashian...anything."
I heard that their powers proved terribly destructive on the sssurface. Too much ssso that they decided the risk was not worth it. Sssso they moved here, where their powers have less impact.
Since Cronos was the god of time, did that mean time worked differently here? And what about Gaea, the earth goddess? How were her powers affected now that she was in the Underworld?
I heard you with Hades' sssubjects earlier.
The Gorgon's words startled me out of my thoughts. "I didn't notice you." I stabbed the last slice of steak with my fork and popped the morsel of meat into my mouth.
You did not have to reveal your weakness to them, but you did. Was it to gain sssympathy?
I was staring rather morosely at my empty plate, trying to convince myself I wasn't still hungry, when the last of Sssusssan's words sank in. And this time, I really did roll my eyes at her. "Of course you'd think that."
Ssstupid people can also be ssshrewd at times.
"Sorry to disappoint," I said wryly, "but I wasn't able to think that far. I just didn't think it would set a good example to be scared and ashamed for something that's entirely natural."
You are ssstrange.
Coming from her, that almost kinda sounded like a compliment, but since I wasn't as stupid as the Gorgon liked to think, I only shrugged and acted like it was just another insult.
On our walk back to the fortune teller's hut, I asked Sssusssan why our missing thief would risk wasting time and getting caught, just to have his or her fortune read.
I cannot think of any sssane reason either. The thief must be as ssstupid as you are.
"Very funny." We had reached the fortune teller's hut by now, but when I glanced up, I was surprised to see the same Greek characters still flashing green.
Sssomething is wrong.
"You betcha." I shook my head disapprovingly. It was already half-past three, and they were still closed for lunch? How in Hell did they manage to stay in business like this?
No priestess would close her doors for this long.
The Gorgon's rather dark tone sobered me up. We had to find out why the thief came here, but to burst into the hut without a plan...
An idea occurred to me then, and I said rather excitedly, "Little Iron."
The Gorgon, bless her reptilian heart, understood right away.
It is worth a try. The inventions of Perdix are always more than what they ssseeem.
I took the partridge out of my pocket, and it was still a magical treat to see the iron bird slowly come into life, eyes drifting open as if waking from a sleep of heavy metal (pun intended).
I brought my other hand close to its beak, and Little Iron nipped my middle finger open to feed itself. "Good boy," I whispered. "And now, if you don't mind doing us a little favor...can you check inside and see whether it's safe for us to enter?"
The partridge actually bobbed its head in answer just before taking off, and I turned to the Gorgon in amazement. "Did you see that?" Like seriously, I think I had the world's best pet ever, never mind if it also happened to be a bloodsucker.
I once heard Perdix say that while it is blood that gives these creatures life, it is the owner's care that ssshall teach them what it means to truly live.
"I think that's true—-"
How very predictably, sssentimentally ssstupid of you.
"You might think it's stupid," I argued, "but Perdix's words are basically the equivalent of a user's manual. So if he says that's how things roll, then—-"
Little Iron had come flying back, diving so low that I couldn't help ducking in case he lost control. Hadrian liked to say I could be hard-headed at times, and while it was probably true, I doubted my skull was hard enough to survive a head-on collision with a bird made of iron.
A part of me had expected the partridge to come back clutching a piece of clue with its talons, but instead it started drilling holes into the ground with its beak.
Oh my God!
Little Iron was communicating with us, and as the lines and swirls started taking shape, I realized that the partridge was writing a message...in Greek.
"Oh, come on! Seriously?"
The Gorgon was cackling so hard she had to hold on to her scarf to keep it from falling.
"Not funny," I grumbled. This partridge better had a language option I could choose from or Perdix's customer service was so going to hear from the new LOTUS in town. It just wasn't fair—-