Shadows of the Keeper by Karey Brown Page A

They
were too full of hope.  I needed to remind them some things remain dark.”
    “Okay, but a tail ?”
    “We could have dressed up as tribal
shamans.”
    Hades’ face contorted.  “I’ll
take the tail over the loincloth and painted face.  Got me there. 
Last time I had one of those creatures show up down here, we needed Zeus to
free us of woo-hoo magicks.  Nothing worse than a bunch of demons with
their heads now shrunken.”
    Dezenial couldn’t refrain from
laughing.
    “Funny, until you need your demons
to scare faith back into a few folks.  Kinda hard to be terrorized by
something with a head no bigger than a doorknob.”  He joined his son’s
laughter.  “Still haven’t lived down my humiliation over having to call
upon He Who Must Forever Be Obeyed.  I digress.  Say something to
thoroughly piss me off so I can go rip these lawyers a new one.”
    “I witnessed Persephone sunning
herself in the nude on the shores of white sands last summer after leaving
here.  She has a remarkable body.  Very sleek, that one, and might I
add I especially enjoyed the cute little tattoo you finally talked her into—“
    Flames erupted, surrounding Hades,
his roaring and screeching making even the deadly Lumynari prince flinch. 
Just as suddenly, the enraged god vanished, though burning sulfur
remained.  Hades’ face, minus his body, materialized within inches of
Dezenial’s.  “You were kidding, right?”
    “Of course.  I would never spy
on your wife.”
    His father disappeared again. 
“You’re lying,” the gods voice bellowed.  Dezenial roared with
laughter. 
    Until, through Emily’s mind, he
overheard cruel disclosures the mortal woman wasn’t ready for.
    *   *   *   *   *
     
    The mitigated joy of struggling
with soaked jeans—which usually required a body to roll about quite a bit on
the floor while cursing and threatening to slice and dice said jeans while
yanking off one pant leg, then, blessedly, the other—could wait.  Hot java
to take up and enjoy with scalding hot bath—and maybe a really sharp knife to
just cut jeans off and be done with it—was the optimal choice right now.  Besides,
Maeve’s coffee rocks!  She puts just the perfect blend of cinnamon, and—
    “I say he’ll kill her before much
longer.  She’s the blame of his wife’s death and their curse.”
    Emily’s hand halted midair like a
crossing guard stopping traffic.  Just about to push her way into the
kitchen, she stilled.  Kill?  As in throttle?  Metaphorically
speaking, right ?
    “She wasn’t truly his wife, and you
know it.  Na’Dryn was his mistress.”
    “Mistress that was human . 
Mi’ da hopes the laird ends this one’s miserable life, and soon.  Just
last night, flames from candles and hearth mysteriously extinguished, yet no
open windows or doors for Sister Wind to travel through.”  Female voice
lowered.  Emily moved closer to the door.  “Their shadows passed by,
silhouetted through our curtains.”  Collective gasps reminded Emily of
leaky air ducts back home in Chase’s office.  “Da said tonight we close
the shutters and bed down in the same room.  He’s been buffing and
readying mi’ grand da’s sword most of the morn.”  Chopping resumed for
several long seconds before the speaker continued, onions suddenly pungent.
    “Tha’ Yank is going ta’ bring about
another massacre.  Three thousand years, the laird has kept our ancestors,
and now us, safe.”
    Three-thousand years , Emily
mouthed. 
    “We all hoped she would stay dead.”
    “Pratty!  Blasphemy.”
    “Ye’ ken it ta’ be true.  And
returnin’ as a Yank, knowin’ nothin’ of our ways.”
    I’m the Yank.  What the
hell ?
    “Allysyn worked here the other day,
side by side wi’ her.  Said she’s funny, kind and a hard worker,
Pratty.  Said for a princess she doesn’t put on airs.”
    Princess?  Another local
slur for Americans ?
    “Give her a chance.  Maeve
approves of her and