Chapter 3: Playing with my New Toys: Part Two
She was through!
Emma had to bite on her lip to keep a cry of triumph from giving away her position. She didn’t know if anyone was acting as a sentry, or if there were spells that monitored the area, but she knew better than to push her luck.
It had been some time since her tiny filament of a spell had completed her infiltration of the Hallowed Sanctuary, and for the last hour or so she’d been eavesdropping everywhere she could. She’d heard some of Adam’s conversation with the Saint, she’d witnessed their short sparring match, she’d even heard the words of the goddesses and seen Kali’s display of power. She felt she had more of a grasp on what was going on in the Sanctuary now, but that knowledge hadn’t changed her plans.
It had been necessary to infiltrate the Sanctuary once more. She needed to talk to Adam, not only to warn him about the early failure of the Sanctuary but also to let him have her own insights on his new companions. The idiot was already starting to make mistakes, and he needed to know it!
So, she had once again been patiently working her craft for hours, slowly using the path of her infiltration to prepare a passage through which she could transport herself into the Sanctuary, without alerting anyone. She was well aware of what would happen if she failed if she brought the spell’s defences down upon her. She might survive, but even if she did then all her concealing magic would be stripped from her, leaving her exposed for the first time in centuries. At that point . . . well, she wasn’t honestly sure what the results would be, but at the very least the angel and goddesses present would try to kill her.
Caution and patience, they had been her guiding virtues since before the Roman Empire fell, she had to hold onto them for just a little longer.
Still, the task before her hadn’t required her full attention, only her careful restraint. That meant that her mind could wander a bit, and she found her thoughts drifting back to what she had seen of Adam’s brief spar with the resurrected saint.
The sheer diversity of power that he’d shown had been heartening. She’d known he would be powerful, with an Awakening like his how could he be otherwise, but his lack of intuitive understanding of how to access that power had worried her. Emma had done what she could in teaching him how to spark his magic into life, but some part of her had been afraid that it wouldn’t be enough, that he’d been crippled by the attack on his Awakening. His mastery of various elements as well as Arcana had been heartening, an affirmation that he was growing in power.
Still, she knew it wouldn’t be enough, not with what she suspected was coming.
He had time, that was his main advantage. What she feared might be enormous, but it took time to gather momentum. She just hoped would be enough time for him to grow into his full strength.
Her musings had been interrupted by a sensation at the very edge of her senses. Under other circumstances, she might have missed it, but in her present state of alertness her senses were tuned to even the slightest change. The tickle of energy she had felt at the perimeter of her awareness was distinctive though, distinctive and intriguing.
Turning her focus upon the mote of power, she paused to get an idea of its location. It wasn’t far, on the opposite side of the farmhouse to where the small group was making their way. Other powers lingered in the area, traces of infernal and celestial, as well as more earthly forces, all were faint though, mere remnants of a struggle. What she sought was more vital, even if it was faint.
Her brow had creased above her closed eyes. The power she was trying to find seemed to be attached to another power, a larger one. Yet even though she could sense this larger power she couldn’t determine its nature or location. It was like seeing an invisible hulk in the midst of thick coloured mist, she could see it by what it displaced, and then only enough for a vague idea of its size and shape.
She didn’t like this, not one but two unexpected factors hiding so near to Adam. She could tell that they were hiding successfully from those in the farmhouse. Neither the angel nor the saint would have tolerated such forces so close to their charge, not hidden as they were. The divine agents would have dragged the forces into a more visible state if they knew of them, if not destroyed them outright.
The only saving grace seemed to be that both powers were dormant, unmoving. If they stayed that way, then it would give her some time to deal with them. Focusing further she had tried to get a better idea of the one she could sense. It was smaller, but at least she could get a better idea of what it was.
Potent, that she was sure of. The remaining mote that she could sense was small, but it was strong. The power felt golden to her, not so much in colour, but rather in quality. It felt rich, pure, shining, and precious, yet for all that she could not fully identify it. Still, it seemed to be content where it was, simply sitting in place.
With a quiet sigh, Emma had drawn her attention away from the dormant powers and back to her earlier cautious advancement. From then on she’d focused harder, refusing to allow herself to be further distracted.
Now she was through though, the path she needed to physically enter the sanctuary ready for her. She just had to find the right time, when Adam was alone, and make sure that she didn’t do anything to alert the other occupants of the farmhouse.
She just needed the right moment.
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“Yes . . . tighten that strap and you shall have it locked in place.”
Following Athena’s instructions, I pulled the leather strap, feeling the supple but strong leather slide through a concealed buckle. I felt it tighten, holding in place and bringing the breastplate flush against my chest. It felt . . . right, comfortable, really comfortable. I’d expected it to be heavy, and cumbersome. Instead, it was as though I wasn’t actually wearing anything at all. I could feel it on me, but at the same time, it was as though I was just wearing my normal stuff. Even better, the armour had seemed to have been altered to allow for my wings, overlapping plates sliding in such a cunning way that the backplate allowed them full freedom of motion without compromising much on protection.
“Good, there is no hint of rejection. It would seem that Achilles’s treasure has no objection to your use of it.”
The Greek goddess’s calm words caused me to look up in alarm, the implications of what she’d said unsettling, to say the least.
“Wait! Is this thing alive?!”
The thought that I was somehow wearing a living thing, something that could approve or disapprove of me, felt . . . slimy, as though I were unwittingly taking part in the use of a slave.
“Nothing so sophisticated,” Athena assured me; her tone dismissive as she gestured at me. “The breastplate is an object of power worn by one who wrote their name into history with their deeds, one that was a being of power in their own right. Such close contact leaves an imprint upon the power within the armour, a shade, a memory. There is no true consciousness, no active mind or thoughts. There is only raw emotion, such things as a desire for revenge or a disgust of cowardice.
“The imprint can feel the remnants of your own emotions lingering in your aura and then feel if they are compatible. If there were some conflict, if you were some sort of craven or shamelessly dishonourable, then the remnant upon the armour would reject you. Achilles was a proud warrior and would not stand for his arms and armour to fall to the unworthy while alive. In death, his imprint upon them follows his wishes.”
Was that meant to make me feel better? Because if Athena really thought so then I might have to reconsider how accurate her title as ‘Goddess of Wisdom’ actually was.
“So . . . it’s haunted? I’m wearing a haunted breastplate?”
A tiny flicker of irritation crossed her face but was quickly gone.
“No. No spirit or soul is inhabiting the armour. It is simply a remnant, an impression of power, nothing more.”
“Okay,” I glanced down at the dark metal covering my torso. “What would have happened if it didn’t approve of me?”
“In the simplest cases it would have merely felt uncomfortable,” Athena explained. “It would have grown less comfortable until you had to take the armour off. If there was a greater rejection, if you were one that Achilles would have strongly opposed, then it would have felt as though the armour had grown red hot. You would have suffered agony and burns until you removed it.”
She paused, her face taking on a chilling smile before continuing.
“Had you been one that Achilles hated, such as a reborn Paris or Hector, then it would have been worse. The armour would not have rejected you, instead it would have cursed you. It would have betrayed you in battle, a strap coming loose at the worst time, a blade slipping into your side rather than being turned aside. It would have done all it could in order to bring you to death and ruin.”
The earlier feeling of sliminess was completely gone now, but instead, I felt as though I had a couple of sticks of dynamite strapped to my chest. My concern must have been obvious.
“Do not be afraid. There is no rejection, as I have said. The armour does not hold ill intentions to you, and it shall serve you well.”
Pausing, she turned to Hadriel, who was standing quietly to one side, and gestured for her to come forward.
“Honoured angel, please strike him upon the plate. I do not ask for your strongest blow, but enough that it would harm him under normal circumstances.”
“Hey! Hang on a sec . . .”
“It is my duty to guard him, not to harm him.”
A frown crossed the crimson-winged angel’s face as her arms unfolded, looking at the goddess and ignoring my own protests.
“And I would not ask you to,” Athena assured her. “I merely seek to illustrate the value of the gift given to him. Should he be harmed I shall take full responsibility, and the returned mortal is skilled enough in healing to repair any damage, should the armour fail.”
“I just want to say I’m not too comfortable with . . .” I tried again, only for Hadriel to talk over me again.
“Very well. I shall concede that it is best to test the mettle of your gift here in safety rather than upon the battlefield.”
She turned to me, and I’ll admit that the look in her eyes did not inspire me with too much confidence.
“Hey! Wait! Are you serious?”
I was getting confused and concerned, so when Joan spoke up, her first words were like seeing a light in a dark tunnel.
“Please, Lady Athena, honoured Hadriel, hold for a moment. You need to reconsider!”
My heart lifted at her words . . . only to plummet as she continued.
“Such a test cannot be conducted within this house, not if we wish to avoid damaging it. If we wish to truly test the strength of the armour, then we should do so outside.”
My guiding light had been revealed to be an oncoming train, and I couldn’t help but stare at Joan feeling shocked and betrayed. In response, she turned and grinned at me, a mischievous expression that caught me so completely by surprise that I missed Athena’s response. The next thing I knew the angel and the goddess were stepping out of the back door and out onto the fields behind the farmhouse, leaving me with the resurrected soul and Kali.
“Oh, this looks like it’s gonna be fun!”
The goddess of destruction offered me a predatory grin, before turning and following after her fellow immortals. For a moment all I could do was gape after them, then I felt a gentle pressure on my arm. Turning I saw Joan standing next to me, her smile now more kind than mischievous.
“My apologies for my small jest, Adam. I am afraid the look you gave me would allow no other response.”
I just stared at her, unable to believe that she was . . . teasing me? Joan usually came across as so earnest, so dedicated, so serious. Despite my surprise, I could feel a smile tugging at my lips as I looked at her. She beamed back, and I could feel my earlier concern melt away.
“Do not be too concerned, Adam.” She advised. “Despite her . . . militant attitude honoured Hadriel would never place you in danger. This test is necessary to determine the reliability of your armour.”
“Okay, I get that.” I agreed as I walked out of the door with her. “But do I have to be wearing it when it gets tested?”
“Do you truly believe we could test it simply by wrapping it about a wooden post?” the French saint chided me. “For it to show its greatest strength it must be worn by one with power of their own. It draws upon you to awaken its own power, then feeds it back to you, the two of you stronger together than apart.”
“I’m not going to enjoy this, am I?”
I gave up protesting, well aware that I couldn’t really argue. I’d just have to think of it as training. Learning to tank a hit when I had to.
“Do not be too concerned, Adam,” Joan assured me as we walked over the grass towards the waiting goddesses and the angel. “Should the worst come to pass I can heal you, but I think it shall be unnecessary. Honoured Hadriel is well versed upon the limits of her own strength, and I doubt she will be careless in her tests. You may receive some bruises and scrapes, but I doubt she will inflict any sort of true harm.”
Glancing down at my torso I took in the finely worked dark metal and felt the ease with which it hugged my form without disturbing or restraining me. It was more like another shirt than it was armour, there was something comforting to it. I felt a trickle of confidence start to find its way through my nervousness, enough to let me bury my trepidation.
“Okay,” I declared as I drew close to the small group of immortals. “Let’s get this done. What do y-”
I didn’t get to finish my sentence. Instead, I was cut off mid-word as Hadriel’s fist impacted me on the middle of my chest just below my ribcage.
I’d been hit harder before, I’d also been taken by surprise before, but that didn’t detract from the unexpected force of the blow. My vision spun as I was thrown off my feet and sent sailing through the air, my wings wildly flailing as I tried to stabilize myself. Then I was hitting the ground, and the all too familiar feeling of dirt and gravel grinding beneath me was running through me.
For a moment I just lay there, trying to get my wits back together, then I used my magic to lift myself up, dusting myself off as I rose.
“Hey, you could at least have given me a chance to get ready!”
I couldn’t keep the irritation from my voice as I looked at the red-winged angel. For her part Hadriel seemed completely unashamed, merely meeting my gaze with a calm look of her own.
“Do you think that your enemies will be so polite as to announce themselves before they attack you?” The angel asked as she observed me. “It was best to test the armour while you were unprepared so that the merits of the Olympian’s gift could be seen on their own. And I would say the test has been fruitful.”
A small smile touched her lips as I blinked at her.
“What?”
“You are unharmed, are you not? I would say that Achilles’s breastplate has shown itself not to be fragile.”
I realised I wasn’t in pain, nor had the breath been knocked out of me. I might have been sent flying and disoriented by the sudden impacts of the blow and the earth, but the only pain I felt was in my arms and legs from the impact. My chest, the spot that should have been screaming and turning purple, felt just fine. There was no tingle of numbness, nothing that suggested I’d be in for the pain later, the armour seemed to have completely soaked up the blow.
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For a moment I just hung there, staring down at the dark metal of the breastplate in surprise. Sure, she hadn’t hit me as hard as she could, but it hadn’t been a gentle tap either. She’d sent me flying, but hadn’t hurt me . . .
“Okay,” I nodded, bracing myself. “Hit me again, please. Harder this time.”
For a moment I thought I saw a gleam in the angel’s eyes, and I started to wonder if, somehow, I’d insulted her without meaning to. Such considerations were cut off as she hit me again, this time in the middle of my sternum, and quite a bit harder than before.
This time I saw it coming though and had a chance to brace myself with my magic. The impact still sent me stumbling back, but at least I wasn’t sent flying. Again, the breastplate absorbed the strike, though this time I did feel a bit of pain at my shoulders and hips where the impact drove the armour into me. It wasn’t nearly as bad as taking the blow unprotected would have been, but it was a reminder that the gift wasn’t making me invulnerable.
“How . . . how hard was that hit.”
My dry throat made the question stumble a bit, but I was genuinely curious. I knew how strong Hadriel was from our sparring matches. I’d sent stones at her in the past, baseball-sized things thrown with my telekinesis, but she’d shattered them with her bare hands easily enough. Had that been the sort of strength she’d just used?
“It was not my strongest blow,” She declared, causing my spirits to drop a little. “But it was close. I believe it is a truth to say that this armour shall serve you well in the future.”
That brought my spirit back up, especially as I looked down at the breastplate and noted that it covered my navel. Okay, I couldn’t really argue with that. Having possibly invulnerable armour defending my weak spot couldn’t be anything but a good thing.
“I think that a final test is in order though.”
I looked up . . . and found Hadriel holding one of those oversized swords of hers. I think my thoughts went something along the lines of ‘Oh, come on’, but were cut off as the sword swung at me, and I was once more taken off my feet.
This time my flight magic wasn’t enough to keep me in place, and the armour wasn’t able to completely protect me. It didn’t break, it weathered the blow, but it could not absorb the force of the sword strike as it had the previous blows. Again, I felt the pain at my shoulders and waist, a sharper pain than before as the rims of the armour dug into my muscles. My breath escaped me in an explosive huff as the breastplate was forced against my chest, driving the air from my lungs.
Still, I managed to keep my senses, landing on my feet rather than in a sprawl. To be sure, I was unsteady and was gasping to get my breath back, but if this had been a fight I could have at least defended myself. Hadriel gave me a small nod of approval as I walked back to them, her sword having vanished into her bracelet once more.
“Again, lady Athena’s gift has held up well. Despite my use of my sword the breastplate is not even scratched, truly a worthy creation on the part of Hephaestus.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But it looks like I’ve still got to worry about getting hit.”
“Of course,” The angel’s tone was calm but firm, reminding me way too much of one of my primary school teachers. “Though the metal you wear is a marvel, the flesh beneath it remains vulnerable. Do not think yourself invincible by wearing it. Also, remember that it does not cover all of you. It protects from attacks upon your central organs, but your head and neck are still vulnerable, as are your limbs.”
I noted that she hadn’t made any mention of my weak spot, even though the armour covering it was an important point. That made sense I supposed. Kali and Athena had only been here a few hours, hardly enough time to build up enough trust to let them in on those kinds of secrets. So I tapped on the armour, offering a grin as I did so.
“Gotcha. Still, anything that can guard most of my vitals the way this does is something that I’m going to be wearing as much as I can. It’s a bit of a weird fashion choice, but I think I can make it work.”
I said it as a joke, but even as I did I realized there was a certain truth to my words. Despite it being armour the breastplate and backplate were surprisingly close-fitting. If it came to it, I could probably wear a coat or jacket over it. Of course, I still needed to find any I could wear with my wings. I’d either have to get much better with my TK or I’d have to find an adaptable tailor.
“Well, now that we have seen the worth of the armour, shall we see what the helm can do?”
The question was asked by Joan, who was holding the Greek-style helmet that Athena had given me. I’d thought it had been left in the study when we came out, but maybe I’d been too preoccupied with my upcoming . . . test to notice her taking it with her when we left.
“It may not be as famed a treasure as the armour of one of Greece’s greatest heroes, but I am certain that you can see how it will be useful,” Athena commented as she stepped closer, taking the helm from Joan and holding it out to me.
“Yeah, you said that Hades put a bit of his own helm into it. I get that that’s important, but can you tell me why?”
A tiny frown marred the goddess’s features for a moment.
“During the Titanomachy, the great war the Olympians fought against their titan predecessors, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades were all given treasures forged by the freshly freed cyclopes. These treasures joined with them, with their divine power, becoming potent foci for them to use. My father was gifted his lightning bolts, possibly the most potent offensive weapons in my entire pantheon. Poseidon was given his trident, a weapon that could inflict wounds that even a god would fear and that in time came to enhance his reign over the oceans.
“By contrast my eldest uncle didn’t receive a weapon, instead he was gift a helm, or perhaps it could be best thought of as a crown. The Helm of Darkness did not simply make him invisible, it made him a part of darkness itself, a being that could not be seen or touched, but which could see and touch those he wished. It was he who stole the weapons of the Titans before they went into battle. He who destroyed their supplies, learnt their secrets, uncovered their weaknesses, all before the first blow was even struck. My father and Poseidon . . . the Titans were wary of them. But Hades . . . he was the one they feared.”
She gestured to the helmet I held.
“A tiny shard of that power is now yours to wield. Do not think that it is simple invisibility that the gift imparts upon you, though. I have been told that you already have some mastery over light, correct?”
At my nod she continued.
“In time you shall learn how to bend light about yourself, to cloak yourself in illusion and disappear from the sight of others. Such a trick is common amongst those with a certain level of mastery over light, and as such the counter is likewise well known. There are skills that can overcome such measures, but then there are counters to those methods, and back and forth it goes.
“This helm grants its wearer a greater level of concealment. Not simply hiding from sight, but something beyond that. It shall conceal you from spells that might detect you, and ensure that the technologies of this era are blind to you as well. It shall muffle the sounds you make, contain the heat you give off, still the air in your passage, and even make you lighter upon your feet.
“True, in time you may grow skilled and powerful enough to do all of these feats yourself, but this helm shall do them all for you now, and it shall cost you none of your own power to maintain them. I am certain that you can understand what a boon it might be to you.”
My eyes drifting down to the polished steel surface of the helmet in my hands. Stealth fighters were a major thing in the military for a reason, after all. If I could attack from invisibility that would be a major advantage. Telekinesis would have even better synergy, letting me appear to be somewhere else, making an enemy exhaust themselves chasing me when I was safely elsewhere.
“There are limitations, of course.” The Greek goddess’s words broke my train of thought. “Unlike my uncle’s true Helm, this one cannot maintain its concealment when you draw upon power beyond a certain level. It will continue to cover you should you employ your flight magic, minor defences, or lower offensive powers. However, should you draw upon greater forces then you will disrupt the web of magic used by the helm.”
And just like that my visions of a future involving myself as an invisible stealth bomber, raining down magical destruction upon my bewildered foes, vanished like dew under the summer sun. I supposed that I shouldn’t have been surprised. In myths and legends whenever a hero got a magic item there were always limitations on it, things that kept it from being I cheat item. It was true of the arms of Achilles, it was true of Excalibur, so I shouldn’t be surprised it was true for my gifts.
Well? Are you going to try it on, or just stand there staring at it?”
Kali’s playful tone brought me out of my thoughts of lost power and back to the matter at hand, quite literally, given I was still holding the helmet. Seeing no reason to hesitate I brought it up and slipped it over my head, and looked out through the eye holes.
The first thing I noticed was how comfortable it was to wear. The inside of the helm was padded with some sort of leather, but the way it gripped my head was both effective and comfortable. I could feel it pressing in at my temples, cheekbones, and the back of my head. It felt firm, enough so that I was confident that the helmet wouldn’t come off easily, not if I shook my head or moved around. I was also sure that I could have worn it for hours and not had to worry about headaches, overheating, or any other discomfort.
The next thing that struck me was how the world seemed to have changed. It wasn’t a huge thing, but it was noticeable, a clear shift in the colours of the world around me. The closest I could come to describing it would be to say that it was similar to wearing coloured sunglasses. The world seemed a bit darker, and the colours that I normally saw were tinted with something else. The problem was that the colour that now suffused the world before my eyes was a colour I’d never seen before.
It was so bizarre that for a moment all I could do was stare. The colour . . . it didn’t have a place on the spectrum, it wasn’t some shade of blue, red or yellow, it wasn’t anywhere on a rainbow. Instead, it was alien, but familiar at once, as though I’d known it all my life. It wasn’t making things harder, I could still see the world around me with crystal clarity, but the colour still tinted my view.
The last thing that I noticed was the slight shifts of posture in the women around me. It was only small things, a shifting of weight to get a firmer stance, or a tiny tensing of the muscles as they looked around, but it was there for all of them.
“Adam?”
Joan asked the question as I took a couple of experimental steps, and I noticed that her eyes didn’t follow me. Moving further to the side I saw that the same was true of the others, none of them looking at me, rather their eyes stayed on where I had been.
For a moment I felt as though I was back on that playground, nothing more than a kid pretending that nobody could see him. Looking down at myself I could see that my whole body seemed to be outlined with just a touch more of that impossible colour than everything else. Carefully, remembering Athena’s words about how using too much power could break the helm's invisibility, I lifted off into the air and drifted up and to the side.
“Adam?!”
There was a bit more urgency to the resurrected saint’s question this time, and I realized I still hadn’t answered her.
“It’s fine Joan. This is just a bit weird.”
They all turned to where my voice had come from. Faint amusement showed on Athena’s face, while Kali was just grinning.
“I cannot sense you.” Hadriel was the first to speak, her head tilted slightly as she stared in my general direction. “Perhaps if I were to use more . . . active methods I could find you, but as you are you could approach me and none of my passive perceptions would notice you.”
“I can see where this shall be useful,” Joan commented. “Stealthy infiltrations. Reconnaissance into hostile territory. Escapes from pursuit. Surprise precision strikes from nowhere. There are many possibilities.”
“Heroes in the past have made use of such gifts,” Athena commented, her voice tinged with pride just on the edge of smugness. “Perseus wore such a cap when he hunted the gorgon Medusa. The Norse hero Siegfried acquired a cloak of concealment from the dwarf king Alberich. Even your own King Arthur possessed such a treasure, a mantle of invisibility, one of the gifts granted by Merlin the wizard. It seems only right to provide one to a prospective hero of this new age.”
There was a moment of silence as I took that in, agreeing with Joan’s assessment, and feeling a secret pride that Athena was putting me in the company of such heroes as the ones she’d mentioned.
The Kali spoke up.
“Yeah, but I should warn you . . . if you use it to spy on me while I’m in the shower then you’d better be ready to pay the price, got it?”
For a moment all I could do was stare at her, my thoughts having trouble shifting tracks with what she’d just said.
“Honoured Kali, men will be men, but I think that Adam shall show better sense than that.”
Joan’s response was calm, reminding me that in life she had spent months in an army where she was often the only woman.
“Oh, come on,” Kali seemed to be amused if her wide smile was anything to go by. “That has got to be the first thing that goes through a guy’s head when he gets invisibility. Especially when he’s surrounded by such hot women.”
Her grin turned wicked with her last words. Joan just looked at her, her expression faintly exasperated that the goddess wouldn’t let the subject go. Athena simply looked in my direction with a slightly raised eyebrow, a measuring look as though to say; ‘well, is that the kind of guy you are?’. As for Hadriel, she had an expression of vague . . . pity and distaste on her face, as though she’d encountered a passed-out drunk kid in an alleyway.
“You know I’m not an idiot, right?”
I asked the question as I took off the helmet and let myself slowly lower to the ground.
“Oh? So, you’re not going to try to peek on me?”
As she asked the question the goddess of destruction adjusted her stance. There weren’t any major changes, a slight cocking of her hips a minor drawing back of her shoulders, a tilt of her head so her mane of black hair hung down one side of her face and front. It was all small stuff, but somehow the cumulative effect made her go from ‘attractive casual’ to ‘smoking sex goddess’ in the span of a second. Just like that, the notion of trying to spy on her while she was naked in the steaming hot shower became far more appealing.
Fortunately, hormones didn’t manage to trump self-preservation.
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, you’re crazy hot, but I know enough mythology to know that seeing a goddess while she’s bathing is just asking for trouble.”
Yeah, I might not remember the names, but I knew the fates that had befallen some unfortunate men who stumbled across a goddess bathing. Being struck blind had been the mildest fate they’d suffered, with one unlucky bastard getting turned into a deer and then being torn apart by his own hunting dogs.
“Well, what about those that aren’t goddesses? Are they worth a peek?”
Okay, now I was sure that the Hindu goddess was just stirring the pot for her own amusement.
“Like I said, not an idiot.”
I think that just for a moment I saw a brief flicker of approval pass across Hadriel’s face, but since I wasn’t looking at her directly it was hard to tell. For her part Joan looked pleased with my answer, offering me a small nod as our eyes briefly met.
“Perhaps we should return to our original topic,” Athena commented, gesturing to the helmet I still held in one hand. “The helm has proven itself. Have you any questions to ask?”
I did actually, a couple of things occurred to me as soon as she made the offer.
“Are there any limits to how long I could use it? I mean, could I wear it for hours and not worry about it running low on power, or something like that?”
“No,” She replied. “The divine magic is efficient and self-renewing, drawing in magic from external excess. Simply wearing it will provide the helm with the energy it needs to function, your own naturally radiated power enough for it.”
“What about if I gave to someone normal, someone without magic?” I asked.
“If worn by a mortal it could still draw in ambient mana to fuel itself,” Athena replied. “If the wearer remained in place for hours then it might exhaust what the helm could harvest from the atmosphere. However, the act of moving only a few feet would provide enough fresh energy to continue to function for hours more.”
“Okay,” I filed that away, unsure if it would be important, but deciding it was better to know. “And how tough is it? Could it take a hit?”
“It is meant more as a magical tool than a piece of armour,” The Greek goddess admitted. “The form of a helmet was selected because it was a convenient one, but it could have just as easily been a crown or cap. Still, it is the work of my brother, and nothing that Hephaestus crafts is fragile. It should be able to endure some punishment, but do not think it more durable than a mortal well-made helmet would be.”
Looking down at the helm I wondered for the first time how I was going to carry it around. It wasn’t as though I could wear it all the time, given that putting it on activated its invisibility. I supposed that I could stuff it into my bag of holding when not using it but taking it out and putting it back on could take too long in a crisis.
For a moment I found myself thinking about far too many fictional protagonists. When they had magic armour that was inconvenient, they could just summon it or will it away with ease. No fuss, no effort. Real life wasn’t that convenient I guessed. Still, I already had a bag I could stuff a small armoury into, so there was no need to get greedy.
“So, d’ya want to play with your new toys some more, or are we going to get on with something else?” Kali asked the question with the kind of easy-going teasing that I was starting to expect from her.
A gust of warm summer wind passed across the field as she asked her question, the white grass swaying as it passed. I was momentarily distracted by the feel of it in my feathers, my wings fluffing up instinctively to catch it, and a pleasant shiver running down my spine. The sensation was like having someone else comb your hair, only more so.
It was only a momentary distraction, and I quickly turned my attention back to the conversation.
“I believe it is time for me to contact my brethren once more,” Hadriel stated. “They shall provide me with an update upon current world events, information we can use to plan our actions once we leave this Sanctuary.”
“Ah, so we’re going to plan our next move? I can get behind that!”
There was definite eagerness in Kali’s voice now, though I wasn’t quite sure what for yet.
“I have methods of contacting my own allies,” Athena offered. “Such methods shall not compromise the safety of this spell, nor reveal our location.”
“I guess I can check in to see if anyone has sent me any messages.” Kali offered, also turning to head back to the farmhouse.
In short order, it was just me and Joan standing there, the sudden shift abrupt enough to leave me staring after them in surprise. Unsure of what else to do I offered the helmet to the French saint.
“Want to try it on?”
“Non merci,” She declined. “That was a gift for you, it is not for me to wear.”
I frowned at that and immediately decided that this needed to be nipped at the bud.
“Nope,” She looked taken aback by my response, but I didn’t give her time to reply. “Nope. You’re my ally, and there are going to be times when I might need you to use it, so no getting ideas about it being for me and only me, okay?”
Seeing her nod, I offered her a grin in return.
“Besides, I want to see what it looks like from this side of things. That’s something I need to know, right?”
“Ah,” Joan nodded and took the helm, looking down at it as though it were some sort of strange animal she had been handed. “I see. If that is the case, then how can I decline?”
Turning the helmet around she lifted it up and slipped it over her head. I had a moment to think it looked silly on her, the Grecian style at odds with the more sophisticated lines of her armour. That only lasted for an instant before she was gone. There was no fading away, no disappearance as though a veil were being drawn over her. One instant she was there, the next . . . nothing, just the field behind her as though she had never been.
“Mon Dieu, is . . . is this what you saw when you wore it?”
It was disconcerting to hear Joan’s voice coming out of nowhere, as though she were some sort of ghost. I kept looking for her, but not finding her, even though she sounded so clear, so present.
“You mean that strange colour?” I asked. “Yeah, took some getting used to. You can see it too?”
“I . . . I think I have seen this colour before,” I think she was talking more to herself than to me. “Where was it? Où était-il?”
Then she was in front of me again, the suddenness of her appearance startling me enough to take a half step back.
“It is something for later,” She muttered as she handed the helm back to me, though something in her eyes still seemed unsettled. “For now . . . what do you feel you need?”
“Honestly?” As she nodded, I let my shoulders slump. “I could use some downtime. It’s just been one thing after another. I haven’t really had any time to decompress, y’know? I got some sleep last night, but it's just been all go apart from that.”
“Ah,” Joan actually looked a bit guilty. “I suppose that there have been a great many claims upon your time since you returned.”
Glancing up she looked at the sun. Following her gaze I was surprised at just where it was, a reminder that despite how I felt it wasn’t all that late. It was only midmorning, the day still stretching out before me.
“Why do you not take the rest of the morning to relax? It would seem that our divine allies are all occupied with their own affairs for the time being, perhaps we should take the opportunity it affords.”
“Thanks.”
I said it with real gratitude, thankful that she got where I was coming from. At that moment I really wished that I could still taste my food because some comfort eating would have been appreciated. Instead, I figured I could just lie on my bed for a bit and try to just do nothing. No rushing around, no planning for the future, just lying there and letting my mind go peacefully blank. Well . . . that was what I was going to try for anyway, whether I got it or not was another matter.