"Esther M. Friesner - Chicks 03 - Chicks 'N Chained Males" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

don't much frighten them."

"Hey, sometimes a sword is just a sword," Zeus protested.

"And sometimes it'snot , Mr. Swan, Mr. Shower-of-Gold, Mr. BullтАФplenty of bull for all the girls from
here to Nineveh, and I'm damned Tyred of it," Hera said. Zeus fumed. Hera turned back to Andromeda.
"If you look in the shield, you'll get some idea of what I mean."

"Is it safe?" Andromeda asked. As Zeus had, Hera dipped her head. Her divine husband was still
sulking, and didn't answer one way or the other. Andromeda cautiously looked. "I can see myself!" she
exclaimedтАФnot a claim she was likely to be able to make after washing earthenware plates, no matter
the well from which the house slaves brought back the dishwashing liquid. A moment later, her hands
flew to her hair. "Eeuw! I'm not so sure I want to."

"It isn't you, dearieтАФit's the magic in the shield," Hera said, not unkindly. "If you really looked like that,
loverboy here wouldn't be interested in feeling your pain . . . or anything else he could get his hands on."
She gave Zeus a cold and speculative stare. "At least, I don'tthink he would. He's not always fussy."

A thunderbolt appeared in Zeus' right hand. He tossed it up and down, hefting it and eyeing Hera.
"Some of themтАФmost of them, evenтАФkeep their mouths shut except when I want them to be open," he
said meaningfully.

Hera stood up to her full height, which was whatever she chose to make it. Andromeda didn't quite
come up to the goddess' dimpled knee. "Well, I'd better be going," she said hastily. If Zeus and Hera
started at it hammer and tongs, they might not even notice charbroiling a more or less innocent mortal
bystander by mistake.
***

Just finding Cindy, Claudia, and Tyra didn't prove easy. Minor gods and goddesses weren't allowed to
set up shop on Olympus; they lowered surreal-estate values. Andromeda had to go through almost all of
Midas' Golden Pages before getting so much as a clue about where she ought to be looking.

Even then, she was puzzled. "Why on earthтАФor off it, for that matterтАФwould they hang around with a
no-account Roman goddess?" she asked.

"What, you think I hear everything?" Midas' long, hairy, donkeyish ears twitched. "And why should I
give a Phryg if I do hear things?" His ears twitched again, this time, Andromeda judged, in contempt.
"You know about the Greek goddess of victory, don't you?"

"Oh, everybody knows abouther ." Andromeda sounded scornful, too. Since the Greeks had pretty
much stopped winning victories, the goddess formerly in charge of them had gone into the running-shoe
business, presumably to mitigate the agony of defeat on de feet. Nike had done a gangbanger business,
too, till wing-footed Hermes hit her with a copyright-infringement suit that showed every sign of being as
eternal as the gods.

"So there you are, then," Midas said. "I don't know what Victoria's secret is, and I don't give a darn."

"That's my shortstop," Andromeda said absently, and let out a long, heartfelt sigh. "I'll just have to go
and find out for myself, won't I?"