by Laney McMann
“Some.” She smiled. “Why there?”
He glanced around the train car. A stack of pamphlets hung in a holder on the wall. Kade saw one for a Farmer’s Market, another for a vineyard, some for a few bed-and-breakfasts. Cole kept digging through them, and finally pulled one out and handed it to her.
The brochure read: Venice Carnival ~ Carnival Grande Masquerade Ball.
“Seriously?” She grinned.
Cole winked. “Yep. Heru wants to create a diversion so we don’t continue to be followed. This venue is perfect for that.”
“But how are we going to keep an eye out for anything?”
“We’ll be able to keep an eye out.”
“Then what? Hide out some more?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Have you ever been to one of these before?” Kade held up the pamphlet for the masquerade ball. It sounded incredible. Costumes and masks and music, but … She didn’t look at him when she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral by focusing between the brochure and the Italian countryside flying by beyond the window. “I mean, you’ve been to Fondazione Arena di Verona before—the opera.” She glanced at her lap.
Cole abandoned the map and lifted her chin. “I swear I wish I had never told you Tiffany was at the opera. I’ve never been to anything like this before.” He tapped the paper she was holding. “You’re my first.”
She smiled a little at that. “Your first,” she repeated.
“Of many, many things.” He kissed her and went back to scanning the map.
“Do you think this sign language kind of thing we’re doing matters? I mean … thoughts are thoughts, right? If I know, I know regardless of how I know.” She was referring to the Daemoneum being able to read her thoughts somehow—however they were able to do it.
Cole shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea.”
She sighed. “Where’d Heru go?”
“Probably wandering around the hallways. He hates trains.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, distracted. “He was around when they were invented. He says they’re no better now than they were then. ‘Too fast and not completely stable’ were his exact words.” Cole drew another line across the map with his finger.
“When they were invented? How’s that possible?”
“Hm?” He glanced up.
“How was Heru around when trains were invented? That would have been when … 1800?”
“1807.” He was looking at her, watching her reaction.
“Um … what?”
“The first passenger train was running in 1807,” he said, holding her stare.
“Cole, that would mean Heru is like …” She counted in her head. “Over 208 years old.”
He smiled. “So, you’re not that bad at math.”
“I can add.” Jackass.
“Actually I’m not sure how old he is—he won’t give me a solid number. I think it’s because he doesn’t know.”
Kade turned in her seat to face him directly. “Ha ha. Why are you messing with me? You know I’m freaking out as it is.”
The door to the train car slid open, and Heru walked into the cabin with three drinks, three bags of chips, and three hot dogs. He set them all down on the small table between the three of them. “Hungry?” He slid the door closed and took the seat across from Kade and Cole. “I tried to get something healthy but …” he gestured toward the food. “All they have is crap. All trains ever have is crap.” He glanced out the window. “I checked in with the steward—we should be at our destination within the half hour. Which will be an absolute blessing.”
“We were just talking about how much you hated trains,” Cole said.
“Were ya?” His very light blue eyes shined. “And what was said?”
Cole shrugged. “I was explaining to Kade how old you are. But since I don’t actually know, the conversation was coming to a dead end.”
“I see.” He folded his hands in his lap. “Ya know at one time, this was secret information. Need to know basis and all of that jazz. When I worked for the Warden. Years ago now.”
Kade watched him steadily. The way his blue eyes seemed to dance as they moved while his dark hands made gestures through the air and his wing tattoos shifted on his throat.
“I am, for yar knowledge only, my dear … let me think—”
“See,” Cole chimed in. “He doesn’t know.”
Cole and Heru argued a lot, Kade noticed, but it was clear they had a real fondness for each other. She wondered if they’d become closer after Cole’s dad died.
“I do know,” he snapped and counted on his fingers. “Sort of. It’s a lot of numbers.”
Cole shook his head. “My uncle was alive during the time of ancient Egypt. He can’t ever do the math.” He traced something on the map.
“Sorry?” Kade stared between them.
“My name is Horus. Heru is short.”
Her jaw dropped open. “The Egyptian Falcon God?”
“One and the same.” He reached for a hot dog.
“How is that … possible?”
“Anything and everything is possible, my dear. Humans have a very restricted sense of sight, and of time, and matter. They do not see most of the world that stands in front of them, and believe in even less.”
She was shocked. “You’re a god?”
“Correct.” He took a bite of his hot dog. “Why does that surprise ya so? Ya are a god as well.”
“I’m …” Was she? I mean, yes, the answer was yes, she was, but also a resounding no. Devil God didn’t count.
Heru smiled at her when she glanced at him. “Do ya feel any different, being what ya are?”
“No.” She shrugged.
“Exactly. Neither do I. Most gods and goddesses belong to the Primordial race. All shapes and sizes we come in. We’ve been here for a very, very long time.” He finished his hot dog and reached for a bag of chips. “I do love salt. Modern medicine tells everyone salt is unhealthy, but I’ve been eating salt my whole life. It doesn’t have any negative effects that I’ve noticed.”
Cole dragged another finger across the map. “You’re immortal.”
“Perhaps not.” Heru shrugged. “Perhaps my longevity is simply longer than most.”
“Wait … I don’t understand. If Heru is the Falcon God of Egypt, and he’s your uncle, does that mean—“
“I’m immortal?” Cole chuckled, glancing at her. “That’s the great Primordial secret. No one knows. Either you die or you don’t.”
“Indeed.” Heru grabbed a Coke.
“Sorry?” Either they die or they don’t? What? Kade wanted to ask about Cole’s dad, he’d died after all, but she thought the better of it.
Cole squeezed her knee. “Crazy, I agree.”
“So, Osiris was your father?” Kade asked Heru, stunned.
“Is my father. Yes.”
Is …What? “And he’s Cole’s great, great, a thousand greats uncle, as well?”
Cole grinned at her astonishment.
“Something like that.” Heru put a chip in his mouth.
“How’s he doing?” Cole asked. “I haven’t seen Uncle Osiris in a while.”
Heru shrugged. “Eh, getting old. Hiding out. Wants nothin’ to do with no one. I’ll be moving him somewhere more suitable soon. Possibly against his will, but,” he exhaled, “it will be better, I believe.”
“Give him my best.”
“Ya know I will. He adores ya. More than me, I think.”
Kade was staring like an idiot at both of them.
“But ya, Anamolia,” Heru said, “are the biggest conundrum of all in these modern times.” He eyed Kade. “How many secrets an Anamolia must possess. Hard to say. And born a Primori, as well. I doubt we are so different.”
Kade thought it was hard to fathom—they were totally different.
“Speaking of, there’s somewhere we need to stop off before we get to our destination. Someone I need to see.” Heru finished his lun
ch and set the book he’d been reading for the last half hour in his lap.
“Who?” Cole asked.
“Euryale.”
Cole blanched, actually whitened. “Uh, uh. Nope. On your own with that one. Kade and I will wait for you.”
“Who’s Euryale?”
Cole shook his head. “No one you want to know—no one I want you to know.”
Heru continued starting out the train window like he was deep in thought. “She’s not that bad, Cole.”
Cole gritted his teeth. “She tried to kill me the last time we saw her.”
“What?”
Heru laughed, a hearty chuckle. “I had forgotten that. She was only playing with ya. And ya have to come. Ya’re my out.”
“Your out?” Cole’s brows creased between his eyes.
“Yes. It’s been a while since we’ve seen one another, and I have the feeling she may be a little upset with me about that.”
“Not my issue.”
“Okay.” Kade put her hands up. “Explain.” She looked at Cole. “Someone tried to kill you?”
Cole gave her a flat-lined smile.
“What’s funny? None of this is funny.”
“I still can’t help but wonder exactly what you’re capable of if you get angry enough.”
“If someone threatens you,” Kade said, “you’ll likely find out.”
Cole’s chest swelled, and the gesture filled Kade with love in a way she couldn’t describe.
“Euryale is Medusa’s sister,” he said, still smiling. “And Heru’s on and off girlfriend for …” he glanced at his uncle, “how long?”
“Long enough.” The man still hadn’t shifted his focus from the train window.
“Medusa? As in—”
Heru shifted his weight. “The Gorgon sisters, Medusa, Sthenno, and Euryale, yes. Medusa being the only mortal of the three.”
A choked sound released from Kade’s throat. “Greek mythology. You’re not kidding.”
Heru shook his head. “Euryale is immortal. We have known each other for an innumerable period of time. Sweet girl, really, once you overlook the live snakes for hair.” He glanced out the window again.
“And her gaze that turns people into stone, don’t forget that lovely trait,” Cole said, leaning his head against the bench seat next to Kade. “I’m not going.”
“She tried to kill you?” Kade repeated.
“Yea—“
“She did not,” Heru cut off Cole’s words. “My nephew just lost his temper, as he is so prone to do, and got a little too close to her. When she looked him in the eye, well,” he shrugged, “let’s just say I am glad Cole was with me and no one else. I moved him out of the way.”
“She’s crazy,” Cole said. “I’m not getting anywhere near her again. And neither are you.” He eyed Kade.
“No argument here,” she said. “Why were you arguing with her? I mean … not so smart, right?”
He let out an exaggerated breath.
“It was three years ago,” Heru supplied. “Just after the Araneum attack. We were looking for leads on Cole’s father’s death.”
Kade reached for Cole’s hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I was a little bit … emotional that day,” Cole, squeezed her hand in his, “and I might have said some things I shouldn’t have, but in my defense,” he stared at his uncle, “she was provoking me.”
“True.” Heru leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It was also a few years ago. I doubt she holds a grudge. And as I said, ya must come with me. Otherwise, I am afraid, I might get stuck there for eternity.” He folded his hands together. “And I’d rather not.”
“She’s in Greece,” Cole complained. “And we aren’t. At least tell me why we need to see her.”
“I believe she may have information we need.” Heru picked up the book in his lap. “And I think I may have found something else.” He flipped through the pages, settled on one, and read aloud:
‘Now it is that time of night,
That the graves all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide.’
Closing the book, he glanced at Cole. “Warden Caelius asked me to reread the story before he was taken to Stella Urbem. It’s Shakespeare.”
“Yeah. A Midsummer Night’s Dream. What about it?”
Heru reread the passage out loud and emphasized the last line, ‘In the church-way paths to glide.’”
Cole let out a breath.
“What does any of that mean?” Kade asked.
Heru sat back in his seat. “Euryale has access into many Planes, one being the Infernal Plane, as well as others.”
“Infernal?” Kade asked.
“She and her sister, Sthenno, guard the entrance to the Underworld on the Mortal Plane. Earth.” Cole gave Kade a straight, tight smile.
“But … I’m confused. Why do you need access into the Infernal Plane—you can track Daemoneum by following the blacked Leylines. Right?”
“Yes, if we can find the right lines, but—“ Cole stopped. “Wait, where are we going?”
“There is no ‘we.’ There is only me.” Heru eyed Cole. “Ya aren’t coming with me when I go. But this way,” he said, holding the book up. “I can beat them to where I think they might be headed, and no one will know I am coming.”
“Which is where?” Kade glanced between them. “I thought they were tracking me.”
“They undoubtedly are, my dear, but there are Hives and Hives of Devil’s Children who, as we now know, are working in conjunction with the Nefarius. Together they have a very wide reach. Not all will be tracking ya.”
“So, you’re following the non-trackers,” Cole said.
“One could say that.”
“It’d be great if we could share information—work as a team,” he said.
“It would,” Heru conceded, “but ya know we can’t in this situation.”
“You found something else about the attack on Skellig Michael.” It wasn’t a question.
“I did,” he conceded.
“And?”
“Silbury Hill was hit approximately two hours after Skellig Michael was attacked.”
“Dammit,” Cole sighed. “I guess we’re no longer hunting phantoms.”
“The phantoms have showed themselves,” Heru agreed. “But you aren’t hunting them, I am.”
“Let me come with you.”
It was obvious Cole was itching to be involved. Sitting around doing nothing wasn’t what he did. It wasn’t what he was built for.
“No.” Heru’s tone didn’t falter.
They stared at one another, Cole’s jaw muscles working.
“Should we not be talking about this?” Kade’s brows lifted. “I mean, there are ears everywhere …” She gave them a look that said they needed to shut up about any plan they had.
Heru waved a hand. “I welcome anyone who would like to follow us to the Underworld. As my nephew said, Euryale is not always kind.” His eyes twinkled. “Other than that, I am not saying anything that is not already known.”
“Fair enough. So, what’s the book mean?” Kade asked, annoyed with their secrets and arguing.
“Church-way paths is an old saying, ancient. It means Leylines.” Cole rubbed his forehead. “They’re also referred to as dragon lines or serpent lines. If my uncle is correct, which makes sense considering the Daemoneum have adopted the Shakespearean phrase, ‘The gift of life ends in death—’”
“Et mortali spiram,” Kade said.
“Right. The serpent coiled around the egg. Same as the coiled ring with the snake wrapping the egg. In the play A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Shakespeare was referring to the old, original Leylines in Europe,” Cole said. “Some were known as Corpse Roads. It was believed ghosts followed the pathways, or Church-ways, to the churches and cemeteries along the road. And there’s one very old, very well-known Leyline in Europe.” He made a mark on the ma
p he was holding and glanced at Heru. “And the two sites that got hit, Skellig Michael and Silbury Hill, are on it.”
“Indeed,” his uncle said. “So,” he leaned forward, “let’s see?”
Cole lifted the map he’d been drawing on since they boarded the train in Verona and held it against the window. The light shining through created a design on the paper. Kade realized the lines she’d seen him tracing before with the tip of his finger were scorch marks. He’d been creating a map of his own overtop the map of Europe itself. A line was from Verona to Venice, another was from Venice across the ocean to Greece, and there were a few others, but there was one very straight and very dark line that went across the bottom half of Great Britain and crossed over the sea into Ireland. Above the scorch mark were the words: The St. Michael Line.
The quick stop at the train station in Venice turned out to be a quick stop in Florence, Italy instead, and it was just that—quick. Kade barely had a chance to see anything besides the inside of the station where they’d stored their luggage before the three of them hustled to a taxi cab and made their way to the middle, as far as she could tell, of nowhere. The rolling green hills were lovely, but they were the same hills she’d been staring at for a while. It was the history, the canals, the old churches and homes, she wanted to see. She had to keep reminding herself they were only going to be gone a few hours, hopefully, before coming back for the masquerade ball in Venice.
And she’d never been to Greece, so she couldn’t complain. Not much, anyway.
Cole nudged her, sitting beside her in the cab. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just not looking forward to throwing up again,” she whispered so the cab driver wouldn’t overhear their conversation.
“I could kiss you again.” He turned her to face him, holding her jaw. The intensity in his gaze jolted her. Sometimes when their eyes met, it was if nothing and no one else existed in the universe.
“That’d be good,” she said, engulfed by his stare, the way his gray-blue eyes glittered and shifted.
He put his hand on her thigh and rested his forehead against hers. “You were amazing at the opera,” he whispered, “but I don’t want you fighting like that.” She could tell by the tone of his voice that he’d been waiting to say something about the attack under the amphitheater.