by S T Branton
“Shiva!” I called and hoped his name would carry far enough to be heard. “Where are you?”
“Vic?” he called again. I swung gingerly to peer into the whirling snow on the west edge of the summit. Shiva trudged into sight, hunched against the elements. My heart skipped a beat.
I waved like crazy until I was sure he’d seen me through the squall. The moment he moved within earshot, I said, “You should be at home, Shiva. You probably know that better than I do.”
He shrugged. “I need help. We need help—the whole town. We need someone strong enough to kill gods.” His big brown eyes peered at me from between layers of scarf. “You are the only one I could think of.”
Distracted, I frowned at him. “Gods?” The last I’d seen, there hadn’t been any in Shiva’s town except the bizarrely peaceable Forgotten. “This is new.”
He nodded. “It is. Just before sunset on the day you left, a god arrived. The entire town is held hostage. I am not sure what will happen to them.” An edge of real fear underpinned his calm voice. “We must destroy this being by any means necessary. Please.”
I ran my thumb along the warm wood of the walking stick where the edge of my spear would be. “Relax,” I told him. “Keep your head on straight and show me the way. I’ll take care of this.”
Shiva turned on a dime like a damn mountain goat, and I swore he bounded down the sheer mountain face. It took so much effort to keep up that I didn’t have the breath to call for him to slow the hell down a little. Soon, I resorted to a more or less blind slide down the route I thought he took and relied on the stick more and more in the low visibility.
I have to say, the one thing I do appreciate about this noncorporeal arrangement is not having to do any of the physical work.
“Ha ha,” I muttered. “I think you missed your calling as a stand-up comedian.”
I felt Marcus frown. What other type of humorist is there? He paused as if in thought. I suppose he could be disabled, such that he would be unable to stand.
“Ugh, Forget it.” I levered myself away from a frozen boulder that protruded from the mountain. “Man, that kid is like lightning. I hope he waits for us when he gets down there.”
I soon saw that my prayers had been answered as I identified Shiva’s bluish silhouette near the bottom of the mountain. He beckoned frantically to me. There was no rickshaw to carry us into town, but my pace was probably faster anyway, even with the limp.
“Do not let her see you,” Shiva implored. “She is suspicious of everyone and will gladly fight.”
I shrugged. “I might be interested in that, depending on the circumstances.” Shiva showed real concern at that. I clapped him on the shoulder with the hand that didn’t hold my disguised spear. “Don’t sweat it, kid. By now, I’m as close to a professional as you’ll find.”
And frankly, I was a little excited by the prospect of getting back to business. Delano had proven that he was nothing to fuck with. Whoever had rolled into Shiva’s hometown was about to serve as the perfect warmup to get me back in the game.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
A quarter of a mile outside of town, where the road began to widen into the main stone-paved street of Shiva’s home, the kid motioned for me to use stealth rather than speed. Our pace slowed significantly as we concentrated on the need to be as quiet as possible. He seemed to think the element of surprise was crucial to our well-being. With my spear in hand, I wasn’t so sure it would matter. The fighter in me cracked her knuckles and literally itched for a fight. I’d had my rest and it was time to get back in the mix.
The angular, stacked houses gradually took shape through the storm and the central street rolled out before us. This time, our surroundings were empty. Doors and windows hung open and fires smoldered unattended on open hearths. I snuck a glance inside one or two of the homes on our way past. There were signs of life everywhere, but it was as if the people had simply dropped everything and walked away.
“Where are they?” I asked Shiva, my voice barely audible. He pointed up the street toward the center of the town. A weird, dense mass blocked my view past a certain point. It soon became apparent that this was a mob that consisted of the entire town. They’d been herded into the open space in the road and now stood unmoving, facing forward. No one spoke, and their silence was eerily ominous.
The scene struck me as disturbingly familiar. I’d seen the same blank, passive stares over and over again in places where a god tried to exercise their authority. Rocca’s minions, Oxylem’s lumber camps, and the Midwest town overrun by ogres. They always wanted the same thing from humanity—total compliance. And unfortunately, they were all in a position to enforce that demand.
Shiva pulled me into one of the alleys between the houses and peered around the corner into the roadway. “She has trapped the entire town,” he told me. “I was lucky to escape without notice.”
This god reeks of overconfidence, Marcus told me. Take her down swiftly.
I nodded toward the front of the throng. “She’s up there?”
The boy nodded, and I slipped out of the alley to join the masses. Those gathered there barely glanced at me as I began to work my way slowly forward. I kept my ears open for any clue as to who this unidentified god might be, and it didn’t take long for a woman’s harsh, grating voice to reach me through the clear, cold air.
“Rise!” she screeched. “Look at yourselves, stooping to the level of this filth. These mortals are unworthy of even an ounce of your blood. Follow me to glory, my brothers and sisters. Destroy the humans. Let them die with their forsaken world. Think of it as mercy, if you must consider them at all.”
The humans kept their eyes downcast, but the Forgotten scattered throughout the crowd looked toward the voice. I weaved carefully in and out until I paused as close to the front as I dared. The god held court in the middle of the street and glared at her unwilling subjects. She was tall and curvy, a beautiful, cruel-faced woman from the waist up. Torrents of inky hair curled down her back. Ruby-red lips framed her needle-sharp teeth. Her lower half smoothed into a creepy, limbless body that glimmered with scales. The tip of her coiled tail twitched back and forth.
Suddenly, her eyes snapped to the onlookers in the front row and panned hungrily across their faces. She lunged forward, grabbed a small, bestial Forgotten by the scruff of its neck, and yanked it off the ground. Her muscular tail wrapped around its torso. The Forgotten’s hooves attempted a few futile kicks but the tail’s grip tightened around the creature’s ribcage. The crack of breaking bones cut through the deep silence and several humans flinched.
“If you care about this little whelp, come and stop me,” the god taunted. She stuck out her slimy tongue and waggled it obscenely. “I don’t see any challengers. Cowards, all of you.”
Another rib snapped beneath the crushing force of her tail. Her prey emitted a gasped squeal. Its eyes had begun to bulge in their sockets.
“How can you choose the scum of this earth over one of your own?” she demanded. Anger flashed white-hot in her eyes. “They are not fit to wash their own blood from your feet.”
“Stand down, hag.” The voice was deep and resonant and commanded attention. It came from an extraordinarily tall creature that resembled a hybrid of a werewolf and a tree giant. His skin was rough like bark, but each branch arm ended in sharp, striking claws. The eyes in his wise old face burned yellow and a mane of foliage flowed from his head. “Those of us who came here to seek refuge from your kind will not betray our mortal siblings. Begone, or we will drive you out, no matter what the cost.”
The god flared her nostrils and hissed disdain. “Our kind?” Her indignation gave rise to a shrill guffaw of delight. “Do you honestly believe that this layer of human scum is your family? There are no words to describe how far beneath you they are. Answer the call of your superior blood. Accept the privilege that is your right and which your strength bestows upon you. Do not fritter your days away like this, doing nothing and idolizing a worthless
peace.” Her expression switched instantly to disgust. “You owe them nothing. They should surrender their lives in deference to a greater power.”
The old Forgotten shook his head. A hand grabbed onto my wrist from behind, and when I turned, Shiva was there. “What do we do?”
I grinned at him. “We show this bitch what real power looks like.”
With that, I stepped through the people who blocked my path and out of the captive audience. The town held its breath, human and Forgotten alike. Every eye was glued on me.
The god swiveled in my direction. Her initial confusion quickly gave way to insult and rage when she realized I was simply some jerk who’d showed up to dispute her authority. Her lips curled into a sneer at the edges. She released her grip on the small, miserable Forgotten, who dropped to the ground with a heavy thump.
“You must be joking.” The god laughed. “I’m almost offended that this is the best you have to offer. There is nothing an ignorant, crippled girl can do to stop me.”
I tightened my hand around the top of the walking stick. The haft of the spear hummed within its magical disguise. “You forgot one very important detail,” I told her. “I’m ignorant, crippled, and armed to the fucking teeth.” In an instant, the stick was a spear and I hurled its shining point directly at the god’s ugly heart. Her body offered no resistance. She uttered an ear-piercing screech as she fell to the freezing stone, mortally wounded but not quite dead. Thick, violet blood pumped from her new wound.
The townspeople gasped collectively and shoved up behind me for a better look at the downed god. She tried in vain to right herself in the spreading pool of blood. It seeped into the ground and trickled along the cracks in the street.
I held up my hand to summon the spear and it flew back into my palm. “Whose blood from whose feet?” I asked before I turned my back on her to face the mixed population of the mountain town. Human faces regarded me calmly alongside Forgotten with no traces of fear or apprehension. I nodded. This was the way it could be. The way it should be for the future.
“This is a town that has thrived in the midst of a horrendous war,” I declared. My voice seemed amplified and strong. Shiva began a running translation into the native tongue. The eyes on me were rapt with interest. “You have thrown off the shackles of prejudice and intolerance, and in doing so, created a haven where all manner of life can feel safe. The heart of your town beats strongest as you live as neighbors and work together in harmony.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through them. People began to smile, tentatively at first but with growing confidence.
“That’s right,” I told them. “And now, I encourage you to keep that cooperative spirit alive by sending this foolish entity to her grave.” At my back, the god no longer thrashed with such desperate ferocity. She lay on her side and wheezed and gurgled. Her distress was drowned out by the cheer that went up after Shiva translated my last sentence. I smiled. “Have at it.”
The crowd surged forward and released bloodthirsty, rallying cries up to the heavens. I moved against the living current and walked away. Presently, another cry joined the cacophony produced by the town. The god screamed as they fell on her and presumably tore her to pieces. The shriek pierced shrilly through the roar of the crowd for a few seconds and then it was gone.
You are smiling, Victoria, Marcus observed. What makes you so happy?
I made no effort to conceal my joy. For the first time since we’d arrived in Indiana, a sense of inner peace had taken root in my heart. “Because, Marcus…” I clasped the medallion warmly in my hand. “I know how I will defeat Delano.”
Chapter Thirty
I sat behind the wheel of the new SUV and stared out the windshield at the stark expanse of Indiana cornfields. The sky stretched on forever over miles of dirt and snow, a landscape that had been so far away only days before. That morning, I had touched down at yet another teeny regional airfield a hundred miles east in another miniscule plane. The journey, at least, had been calmer and less death-defying. It had included a boat this time, too, and a short ride on a commuter train somewhere in Asia that was empty except for the operator and me. A slideshow of devastation had flashed by the windows while we raced through tunnel after tunnel. Even the underground stations were trashed.
After the train, I proceeded through a never-ending series of cars and trucks. I had hoped that Asia might have fared better than the West during the gods’ takeover, but the snapshot of the continent that I witnessed told a very similar story. My travels didn’t take me through the heart of any major metropolises, but I had to assume the destruction there was comparable to New York—or worse. With so many people so close together, they wouldn’t stand a chance
By the time I finally rolled out toward Indiana, I had seen enough variations of empty countryside to last me a dozen lifetimes. Of course, the last two hours had been nothing but the American flavor of farmland. All the overgrown grass and dreary winter palette had begun to blend together after the vibrant colors of Carcerum.
I still struggled to believe that I’d actually been there, stood at the base of Kronin’s throne, walked the footpaths around his palace grounds, and knelt beside the forge where he died. It could have been yesterday, or it could have been millennia before.
Still, all I had to do to prove those memories real beyond a shadow of a doubt was look to my right at the spear that lay across the passenger seat. Once I left the Himalayas behind, it never looked like a walking stick again. I liked to feel its true shape as a reminder of where I had come from—and what I had to do.
I wondered if Delano knew his days were numbered. If he didn’t already, he soon would.
The SUV bumped over the uneven, scarred ground and headed due west toward the temple. I knew exactly which landmark I searched for, and eventually, I saw it—a lone truck that stood as the last remnant of our first ill-fated mission. To see it there where I had abandoned it in my mad dash to South Asia brought a rush of every emotion I had experienced over the last week. Anger that things had gone so poorly. Fear that I was too late to save my friends. Sadness that we’d cut it so damn close that this was what the situation had come to.
I pulled to a stop alongside the vehicle, snatched up my spear, and drew it across my lap. There was no need to step out into the cold Midwestern morning just yet. I’d come there to wait again, after all. This time, however, I knew my contacts would show.
I released a deep sigh and cranked the seat lever so I could stretch out flat on my back. “It’s bad out there,” I said to Marcus. “Maybe worse than I thought it would be, which seems as stupid as hell, given what we know.”
We are certainly not at an advantage, he agreed. It is difficult to accurately gauge god activity in a period of time as short as we spent near the mountains, but it is safe to deduce that the effect has been more or less similar to what is happening here. He paused. We must hope against all other hopes that slaying Delano will be enough to begin to rectify the damage he has done.
“Okay, yes,” I said. “That’s all true. But there’s a silver lining.” I stretched my tired, achy limbs while I talked and willed energy back into them. “It’s clear that god activity is significantly diminished. We’ve hardly seen anything so far, not even big groups of Forgotten.”
Indeed, Marcus replied and once again, I could easily sense his frown. You deserved the respite, but I do find it somewhat worrying. This journey has never been tranquil. Again, he paused and I imagined his face as he searched for the right words. It strikes me as a bad omen.
I tried to cheer him up. “Lighten up, Doom and Gloom,” I said. “Even if you’re right, there’s not much we can do about it now. We made it back here. We can’t turn around. The only way to go is directly ahead.”
Out of the frying pan, into the fire, he said.
I grinned. “Hey, there you go.”
The conversation ebbed into companionable silence. I slipped my hand into my coat and withdrew the shard of magic mirror Marcus had
given me as we left Carcerum. It still didn’t reveal much that I could understand. If I stared into the silvered glass, images took form, but I had no way to control who or what I saw and no frame of reference for the window in history. Ten seconds ago and ten years ago were exactly the same, as far as I could tell.
I put the mirror piece away and leaned my head back again to stare at the underside of the SUV roof. The calm before the storm weighed heavily on me. I grew fidgety when I thought about all the things that could go wrong or might have already gone wrong. As always, I cracked my knuckles and tapped my toes inside my boots. Suddenly, it was impossible to sit still.
Irritated by my own impatience, I sat up, opened the door, and hung my legs out sideways. The first slap of cold air momentarily chased my thoughts away, but they crashed back the second I acclimated to the temperature change. With the spear held firmly across my legs, I traced its sturdy shape—simpler than the Gladius Solis, but not bad for someone who didn’t know shit about forging. Of course, that probably had more to do with the weird magic of the god realm, but I let myself take some credit. I needed the confidence boost to fight my nerves.
Worry not, Victoria, Marcus said. You can do this. You have trained for it. And you are the last hope for the future.
I snorted. “No pressure. Oh, well. At least I have the spear.”
“You have us too, Vic.” The gruff, gravelly voice came from the far side of the pickup. I glanced through the window to see Smitty, Amber, and a thirty-person crew smiling into the cab. The old blacksmith snapped a salute. “Were contingent, reporting for duty.”
I scrambled out of the vehicle and ran to hug him and his granddaughter. “Oh, hell yeah! You actually made it.”
Amber gave me an unimpressed look. “Of course we made it, Vic. We’re freaking professionals.” She squeezed me tightly around the middle. “Besides, we wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Her brows arched. “Nice spear, by the way. Did you get sick of the sword?”