~*~
A lot of logistical problems stood between me and saving my first real, live basilisk. The first being location.
Mount Olympus was in a separate dimension from the human world. The front door led to wherever a person came from. I’d originally arrived from downtown Philadelphia. The building I’d entered looked, on the outside, like an abandoned department store. Once I walked through the door, I was in the atrium where I worked. All major cities had an access building that looked abandoned but led to Mount Olympus. If I walked out that door, I’d be in Philly, not New Mexico.
Now, of course, I didn’t leave through that door. I didn’t live in the human world. I left through the other door on the other side of the atrium. It led to other parts of Mount Olympus, like the residential and shopping districts.
The only ways to go to a different human location were to apply for a transfer, go with someone as a guest, or work in the courier department.
Since transfers took weeks and I couldn’t let anyone see me, that only left one option. I’d have to become an unofficial member of the messenger branch.
After hours, the building was dark and echoed with every footstep I took. The ding of the elevator and the sound of its doors opening bounced around the atrium and made me cringe. My hand shook as I pressed the button inside, and I held my breath when the doors opened for me on the seventh floor. Nobody stood waiting to catch me.
I stuck my head out and peered both ways, then stepped into the tiled hallway. A directory on the wall across from the elevator advised me to turn left, and I followed the arrow until I reached the correct door. Gold letters on frosted glass read Courier and Travel. Beneath that was a picture of a pair of gold, winged sandals.
The problem with breaking into a god’s office is you can’t whisper a prayer before trying the doorknob to see if it’s unlocked.
To my surprise, the knob turned and the door swung open. I ducked inside and closed the door behind me. A bead of nervous sweat trickled from my temple, and my headsnakes shifted and coiled tightly against my head.
The room’s overhead lights had been turned off, but all along the far wall pockets of ambient light kept the room from total darkness. I crept over to inspect the light’s source and found a row of glowing sneakers hung on pegs by their laces.
Perfect.
Every department had specific tools its employees used to do their jobs. Cupids had their wings and arrows to encourage love, muses had their bottles of thought-bubbles to offer inspiration, and messengers had their sneakers for travel.
I found a pair in my size, tucked them into my purse, and got the hades out of there.
On the way back downstairs, I nearly ran into a harpy pushing a mop bucket and humming to herself off key. I ducked behind a potted plant as she passed by, then made a run for the elevator. By the time I made it back to my desk, I was out of breath and panicky.
I’d only been a part of this world for less than two months, and I’d already stolen something from a god. I’d never done anything wrong in my life. I’d never so much as stolen a stick of gum. This was insane.
I berated myself for my terrible behavior the entire time I was changing into my ill-gotten sneakers. I lectured myself thoroughly all the way across the atrium, out the door, and out into New Mexico.
I glanced at the address on the paperwork the woman had given me and rebuked myself for risking so much without a thought to consequences as I flew over Albuquerque and landed at Mrs. Swanburg’s house.
And then I forgave myself. No use ruining a perfectly good adventure.
The minute my magic-covered feet touched the dry earth, my headsnakes became alert. Something under the porch had their undivided attention.
One of the advantages of using one of the departmental tools—like the traveling shoes—was they disguised the user. What I’d lost when my stealth insurance had lapsed was returned when I put on the shoes. I looked human. The only difference was, I wasn’t human. My headsnakes were still present and, to my eyes, my skin was green. But to anyone else, I was the mousy, unremarkable girl I’d always thought I’d been. At least, that’s what I’d read would happen. Fingers crossed the material I’d read in training hadn’t been outdated or incorrect, because I was in a New Mexico suburb pretending to be someone—something—I wasn’t. Eileen Swanburg was obviously a part of the Mythos world, but I was betting none of her neighbors were. If a gorgon showed up and crawled under her porch, that would be bad for everyone.
I glanced around. A blue, four-door sedan pulled in across the street, and a man got out. He gave me a smile and a wave, then turned and went inside.
Obviously, he hadn’t seen a green-skinned woman with a head full of hyperactive snakes. I was in the clear, so I turned my attention to the Swanburg house.
Four painted steps led up to the wraparound porch. A pair of whitewashed wooden chairs with pink cushions sat beneath a picture window, and hanging plants and wind chimes swayed from the overhang. Pretty in a kitschy, overdone sort of way.
The space beneath the porch was skirted in flimsy latticework, and one corner on the right hung loose. I assumed it was where the exterminator had gone in the last time. I tested it and found the decorative barrier came off without any resistance, so I set it aside and took off my glasses to peer into the darkness under the house.
Something moved in the shadows. I tapped a flashlight app on my phone and used the light to get a better look.
Two tiny eyes like liquid tar stared back. Silky black feathers glistened, and the creature snapped its beak open and closed several times. It shook its crimson rooster wattle at me and scraped its clawed, poison-spurred feet in the dirt, then ruffled two dark wings.
“Don’t be silly.” I kneeled in the dead grass and ducked my head inside. “I’m here to help you.” I crawled inside on all fours, hoping the dirt wouldn’t ruin my skirt.
The rooster bobbed its head up and down, then it stretched its neck toward me, beak clacking in warning. But the front half of the basilisk was a distraction. Aside from the venomous spurs, the rooster portion was no more harmful than its barnyard cousins. The problem was the back half. It slithered next to me in silence, fangs dripping with the same poison that had killed the grass outside.
My hand touched something wet and stiff, and I shone the light at it. A dead rat lay curled in on itself, as if it had died in agony. I wiped my hand on my skirt. I’d probably have to toss it after this anyway.
I turned and addressed the snake as it crept closer. “Look. I really don’t want to hurt you. Give me a second.” I sat up and removed the stolen sneakers so the basilisk could see my true form. “See?” My snakes coiled and uncoiled, the movements making my scalp itch.
The snake end of the basilisk pulled back, its eyes wide in surprise. The rooster stepped toward me, head turned to the side to examine me with one piercing eye, and the snake’s tongue flicked to taste my arm.
I smiled and held still while the creature judged me. I must have passed the test. A moment later, my lap was filled with scales and feathers. The rooster end buried its head under my arm, and the snake end climbed my body to commune with my headsnakes.
“There you go.” I cuddled the rooster with one hand and rested my other hand against the snake’s skin. “Everything’s going to be okay, sweet boy. I know. This was scary. I don’t know how you got out here, but I’ll get you someplace safe.”
We sat like that for a while, until the basilisk was ready to go.
If I’d had a choice, I’d have taken him back to my dorm room. But I doubted my roommates would appreciate him the way I did. As it was, they already didn’t like having my Daphne there in her tank. Besides—basilisks weren’t pets, and certainly not indoor pets. I’d already thought it through, though. I knew exactly where to take him.
“Now, I have to change how I look before I we can go. Don’t be alarmed, okay? It’s still me.”
The basilisk’s rooster head bobbed a few times, a
nd the two ends climbed from my lap and waited while I put the sneakers back on. Once I’d tied the shoes, the snake portion drew closer and flicked my cheek with its tongue to verify it was still me.
The rooster portion of the basilisk followed me out from under the house with the snake riding patiently on its back. The gods were a strange bunch, making such awkward creatures.
The sky had turned dark, so no one saw us emerge. I scooped the basilisk into my arms, replaced the latticework over the hole, and flew into the sky.
The only way back to Mount Olympus from the human world I knew of was through the front door to the main building, right past my desk in the atrium. Despite my earlier expedition to steal shoes from the courier department, I felt pretty ballsy walking into the empty building with a basilisk tucked under my arm. Still, I strode through the door and across the atrium like I owned the place, then exited through the opposite door out into the rest of Mount Olympus.
Five minutes of flight later, I was in a clearing in the wilds of the land of the gods.
“This is it.” I gave the basilisk an affectionate squeeze and set him on the ground. “You’ll do a whole lot better here. I promise.”
The basilisk nudged me with both its heads and gave me a sorrowful look from four eyes.
I hunkered down so I could get closer. “Now, don’t be like that. I’ll come visit when I can. I promise.”
The bushes across the clearing shook, and clicks and hisses came from within it.
Another basilisk stepped into the clearing, this one with a purple rooster wattle and green tips on its wings. It hesitated, then stepped forward. My creature met it in the center of the clearing, and they eyed each other, circling and ruffling their feathers.
The two snakes slithered toward each other, tongues flicking.
After a moment, the two roosters crowed, the snakes twisted together, and the two creatures settled in a patch of grass to doze.
My heart gave a little tug, but I left, satisfied that I’d done a good thing.
That satisfaction carried me all the way back to the atrium and up to the seventh floor.
“No exterminators today,” I whispered, as I hung the magic shoes back on their peg in the courier office.
~*~
The next day, I sat at my desk feeling particularly smug as I stamped unnecessary paperwork and directed people the long way to their appointments.
I’d totally gotten away with it. I’d broken several huge rules, stolen the shoes of a god, and robbed some exterminator out of a job. Not too shabby for a shy girl who’d never even driven over the speed limit in her previous life.
A lot more had changed than my skin color and a head full of snakes. I had a lot of catching up to do. I barely knew who I was yet. But I had plenty of time to find out.
“Next!” I bent my head and glared at the nervous man standing at my counter. “Can I help you?”
“I need a supernatural pool cleaner.” He glanced past me, then at my desk, at his hands, the ceiling—anywhere but my eyes. “Or something.”
I crooked an eyebrow, and the snake hanging over my left eye hissed at him. “What seems to be the problem?”
He bit his lip and looked at my headsnakes. “I have a hydra in my pool, and it won’t come out.”
My heart sped up in excitement. “Did you ask it nicely?”
“Yes, but then it tried to bite me. My son threatened it with a knife, you know, to scare it off. He accidentally cut off one of the serpent heads and two more grew back. I don’t know what else to do. Please. My mother-in-law is coming to visit next week. She doesn’t know anything about this stuff.”
I smiled and pushed a form toward him. “Don’t you worry, sir. I think I can help you.”
Relief spread across his face. “You can?”
“Sure. I think I might be able to get someone out there tonight.” I checked my watch. Two more hours till everybody went home.
Maybe my job wasn’t so bad after all.
Look for Undercover Gorgon: “Episode #1 — Witches War” coming in December 2015!
Transmonstrified
If you enjoyed “Undercover Gorgon,” be sure to check out this and other great stories in R.L. Naquin’s collection Transmonstrified.
R.L. Naquin, author of the Monster Haven series, shares an assortment of stories and poems from places just outside the world we know. These pages are filled with friendly monsters, dueling witches, floating ice fish, chupacabra taxidermy, and escalators leading to Heaven and Hell.
This collection includes two brand-new Monster Haven tales. Also, take a peek into the new world of the Mount Olympus Employment Agency.
Available now.
About R.L. Naquin
Rachel writes stories that drop average people into magical situations filled with heart and quirky humor.
She believes in pixie dust, the power of love, good cheese, lucky socks, and putting things off until the last minute. Her home is Disneyland, despite her current location in Kansas. Rachel has one husband, two grown kids, and a crazy-catlady starter kit.
Hang out with her online:
Web: www.rlnaquin.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/rlnaquin
Twitter: www.twitter.com/rlnaquin
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Other Works by R.L. Naquin
Published by Bottle Cap Publishing:
Transmonstrified (short story collection)
The Mount Olympus Employment Agency Series
Unfinished Muse, Book 1
Unamused Muse, Book 2 (November 2015)
Uninspired Muse, Book 3 (2016)
Published by Carina Press:
The Monster Haven Series
Monster in My Closet, Book 1
Pooka in My Pantry, Book 2
Fairies in My Fireplace, Book 3
Golem in My Glovebox, Book 4
Demons in My Driveway, Book 5
Phoenix in My Fortune, Book 6
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