Cybermancy Read Online Free PDF Page A

suppose. My dark bird.”
    I frowned at that. “You know how I feel about the whole Raven thing.”
    “I also know that Clotho does nothing without reason. Whether you choose to wear the name or not, you own it.” She canted her head to one side. “More importantly, it owns you. Names have power, Ravirn. You need to at least understand what Clotho’s given you before you can safely put it aside.”
    “I suppose you’re right,” I said, though not because I agreed with her. I just didn’t want to start a fight with the woman I loved on what might be my last day among the living. Especially since I hadn’t yet gotten her to admit she loved me back.
    “Don’t agree with me just to make me happy,” said Cerice. “It doesn’t work that way.” Before I could answer, she put a finger on my lips. “Ravirn, no one living is closer to my heart than you are. You matter to me, and I respect your opinion, even on occasions like this one, when you’re wrong.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words. “But we’ll save that discussion for another time. For now, let me just thank you for rescuing Shara.”
    “You sound awfully sure of my success in spite of the odds. If you’re not careful, my head’ll swell.”
    “I doubt it,” she said, stepping in very close and touching my cheek. “If it gets any bigger, it’ll burst.”
    “Amen,” said Melchior from somewhere down around my knees.
    “Unkind,” said Cerice. Then she winked at him.
    I had to smile. She and Melchior were all that was left of my old life, and I loved them and loved that they weren’t letting the possibility of my death and dismemberment make them go all maudlin. I hate maudlin. When it’s a choice of laugh or cry, I’ll take laughter every time and no matter the cost. I rubbed Melchior’s bald blue head for luck, then gave Cerice a very thorough kiss.
    “I’d better get going,” I said when I came up for air. “I need to make some serious preparations. I have less faith in the certainty of my success than you do.” There were things I’d need back at the apartment, Shara’s mortal shell high on the list.
    As I started for the door, Cerice caught me and gave me another kiss.
    “What’s that for?” I asked.
    “Just in case.”
    “I thought you were certain I’d succeed.”
    “I am. You’ll fulfill your oath.”
    “So what the problem?”
    “You didn’t promise that you’d come back,” said Cerice, and there were tears in her tired eyes. “I do sometimes wish you’d learn to count the cost. Try not to get yourself killed, all right?”
    “I don’t know,” I replied, holding my hands up like two scales on a balance. “Get myself killed or come home triumphant to the grateful arms of the most beautiful woman since Helen of Troy. Tough call, that.”
    No. I didn’t believe me either. I hoped I’d come back, but . . . let’s just say I’d phrased my oath the way I had for a reason.
     
The River Styx runs black and wide, its nighted depths unplumbed, a fact I’d counted on from the start. But darkness comes in many degrees and types: the crisp obsidian of a cloudy moonless night, the stygian depths of a sealed tomb, the pregnant potential of a theater before the show. None of them touch the light-devouring midnight that holds sway in the river of death, a fact that had me swearing before I’d swum ten feet.
    My high-intensity dive flashlight penetrated about the length of one arm. Unfortunately, it was Melchior’s arm. If I pointed the beam down the length of my body, I couldn’t even see my weight belt. Combine that with the fact that my wrist compass kept spinning in circles because the underworld wasn’t exactly governed by the same rules as everywhere else, and I had major problems. I kicked slowly, trying to hold myself still relative to the water flow.
    How come this kind of shit never happened in the movies? Bond always seemed to have crystal-clear water and fifty-foot visibility. Of course, a real