Magic Burns

Page 33

 

 

 

“Did you know the birds are metal?” Julie said.

 

I nodded. “They’re Greek. You know who Hercules was?”

 

“Yeah. The strongest man.”

 

“When he was young, he had to go through twelve challenges…”

 

“Why?”

 

“His dad’s wife made him temporarily insane. He killed his family and had to atone by serving a king.

 

The king very much wanted to kill him so he kept thinking up more and more difficult challenges for Hercules. Anyway, the Stymphalean birds were one of the challenges. He had to drive them away from a certain lake. Their feathers are like arrows and their beaks are supposed to pierce the strongest armor.”

 

She looked at me. “How did he do it?”

 

“The gods made him some loud clapper things. He wrapped himself in the skin of an invulnerable lion and made noise until the birds flew away.”

 

“Why is it in those stories that the gods always pull your butt out of trouble?”

 

I got up. “It helps if the king of the gods is your dad. Come on. We’ve got to climb and I’m pretty sure your dad isn’t a god, is he?”

 

“He died,” she said.

 

“I’m sorry. My dad is dead, too. Now climb, young grasshopper, so your kung fu won’t be weak.”

 

She braved a crumpled barrel. “You are so weird.”

 

You have no idea.

 

 

 

TWENTY FEET BELOW THE LIP OF THE GAP, I FELT THEHoneycomb. Above us magic twisted and streamed, boiling in a chaotic frenzy, its intensity spiking hot enough to scald. The magic field felt me and spilled over the edge, sending thin currents toward me like invisible lassos. They licked me and fell short. That’s right. No touching.

 

The magic waited, almost as if it were aware. Up top, where it boiled, I would create one hell of a resonance and that was never a good thing. The Honeycomb couldn’t touch me, but it didn’t like me and it would keep trying. The sooner I got out of there, the better.

 

I climbed over a water heater, twisted and crushed like an aluminum can, and pulled myself over the edge. Before me the bloated trailers, contorted and rippling with strange metallic bumps, clung to one another. Some had merged into hives, some three trailers high, and a couple joined ones looked identical, like two cells caught in the middle of mitosis. A few sat on top of each other, hanging at precarious angles yet apparently steady. Long clotheslines ran between the trailers and freshly washed garments flapped in the breeze.