The Magus Chronicles

Parent or Guardian

Electra had been back a few times in the remaining weeks, crashing in the spare bedroom. She had returned for the fourth time, finally free of the mission Olympia Perigord had pinned on her five days ago. A Sengali warlock was in an old glass jar in Olympia's purse, and Electra basked in the feeling of satisfaction that always came after a job well done. She picked up her car at the airport and drove home at a high speed, blasting Swedish punk rock and Irish folk ballads and Latin jazz, until her black curls were all frizzy and she pulled into the driveway at 1400 Tucker Street.

Livia held a recurve bow in her hands, facing the pin oak fifteen yards across the front yard. As Electra got out of the car, Livia shot six arrows in quick succession at the target. Her aim was terrible, but Electra could see it was because her hands were shaking. Her face was set like stone, and Electra got the feeling something very bad had happened.

"How was orientation?" Electra asked, pulling her hair into a half-up. Livia glanced over her shoulder, then walked to pick arrows out of the grass.

"Orientation was fine."

"Where are the others?"

"Octavian is here. Jack and Constantine are gone."

"Gone?" Electra put her hands on her hips. "Does Percy-"

"Percy doesn't care." Livia broke one of the arrows ripping it out of the ground. "Son of a whore," she spat in French. Electra was intrigued, because she had ever heard Livia speak French, or betray her accent, but the comment about Percy seemed more prevalent.

"What do you mean Percy doesn't care?" She looked around. "Is he out? Did he go to Leo's, or to visit Hector-"

"He's in his office." Livia's tone was forbidding as she marched back to her starting place. Electra remained on the sidewalk up to the house. Livia knocked an arrow, and looked up again

"If you want to talk to him, talk to him," Livia said. Her face had a tendency towards severity, but she looked downright murderous as she stared over Electra's shoulder at the target. "It's not up to me to get him to do his job."

Electra nodded. "I'll talk to him." She went back into the house, and heard the thud of an arrow hitting the target.

Electra stepped into the house - still hot as Hades, every window shaded to keep as much cool inside the house as possible. She moved towards the office door, but heard a crash in the kitchen and then a slow stream of swear words. So she sidetracked and walked into the kitchen. 

Octavian stood in the middle of the mess, a holding his shirt over his nose to block out the smell of rotting garbage, rummaging through a cabinet above the stove. A landslide of pots and pans lay all around him on the floor.

"Looking for something?" Electra asked, leaning on the doorframe. Octavian whirled around a little too quickly.

"I was looking for painkillers," he grumbled, moving past her out of the kitchen and throwing himself down in one of the dining room chairs.

"Why do you need painkillers?" Electra asked, scanning him for visible wounds.

"My head," Octavian snarled, more like a viper than like a boy. "My head feels like its going to split open."

Electra pulled out a chair. "Are you going to have a vision?"

Octavian cackled, then flinched forward, putting his elbows on the table to massage his temples. "Nah, my head just goes fuck all batshit sometimes like I have a brain tumor. Of course it means I'm going to have a vision." Beneath the fury, Electra sensed something like misery. She leaned back in her chair.