by Renée Jaggér
“Charming,” snarked Bailey. “But good idea. That leaves the endgame. I’m not sure what that would entail. What’s our major goal at this point? How do we win the war?”
Fenris glanced to either side as though concerned that bystanders might overhear what he was preparing to say. “I’m afraid I can answer that question.”
“Can?” She was confused. “Are you sure you didn’t mean can’t?”
“I am sure. From what Agent Velasquez said, we might have already won the war if not for the Order’s sudden change in leadership. They’d never admit defeat no matter what, but the Venatori might well have slunk back to their lairs and pretended that they would strike back one day to save face with their supporters while doing nothing. But with Aradia involved...”
A pit opened in Bailey’s stomach and her palms sweated. She suspected the shaman’s next words would not be something she would enjoy hearing.
“Our endgame plans must involve being ready to take on a goddess and ensuring that you know how to kill one.”
Bailey rolled her head around her shoulders and threw up her hands. She’d never been openly sarcastic or rebellious with her teacher before, but today seemed like a good day to start.
“Kill a goddess? For fuck’s sake. I’m a mortal, werewitch or no. Can a deity be killed?” It was crazy to think they were discussing such a thing.
Roland fidgeted. “Gods can die. Not easily, but it’s possible.”
“He’s right.” Fenris grunted. “We are not invulnerable. But aside from the challenge of overcoming a deity’s enormous power, there is another danger.”
Bailey grimaced. “Let me guess. Blowback from the divine community.”
“Exactly.” The tall man turned his eyes skyward, and he spoke as if from a great distance. “One cannot commit deicide without attracting a substantial amount of attention, which may come in the form of wrathful retaliation or at least heavy suspicion. It would make life more complicated, but under the circumstances, it might be necessary.”
Gunney, watching and listening with mouth agape, just shook his head.
“Fine,” said Bailey. “After we do the first couple of things I said, I guess it’s back to training. Teach me how, and I’ll kill a goddess if I have to.”
Fenris gazed at her. “Good. When we have time, I will show you. One other thing first, though. We will also need to alleviate the potential hostile reaction from unaligned witches. Most of them are unaware of Aradia’s return, and we cannot yet prove the link to the Venatori. So, if you were to kill a goddess of witchkind, it might appear you’d done so without provocation. That would give credence to the Venatori’s slanderous insistence that you want to destroy or subjugate them all.”
“Shit,” Bailey mumbled, tapping her lips. “Yeah, I didn’t think about that. We’re gonna have to play this smart. The last thing we need is more people against us. There’s got to be a way to unify some of the witch community behind us. That’s our best defense, I’d think.”
Roland put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m healed now, back to a hundred percent. I’ll do what I can on that front.”
Fenris walked away from the shop. “I will find you soon. There are things I must look into, however briefly. Warn the alphas and speak to the witches. Then we’ll reconvene, and perhaps reinforce the message to the other packs with a personal visit. Or several.”
Bailey and Roland made ready to fulfill their respective obligations. Before they could leave, Gunney took the werewitch aside.
“Hey,” he told her, “be careful, huh? I know I always say that, but it’s worth repeating. Especially after what I heard today. Never thought I’d honestly say I was dumbfounded by a conversation, but there’s no other word for what you guys just discussed. But even if you do end up fighting a goddess, bring your ass back in one piece.”
They hugged, holding each other tight for nearly half a minute.
“That’s the plan, old man. I haven’t come back in multiple pieces yet.”
“Good.” He released her, then fished in his pocket for a set of keys, the ones to the hot rod they’d been restoring. “Being alive has its perks. I ain’t gonna give it to you since I already gave you the damn Camaro, but I figure you can borrow it at least. Deal?”
She laughed. “Deal.”
The alpha of the Hemlock Valley pack and his two main lieutenants stood with arms folded in a posture of vague standoffishness, their jaws gradually falling open as they listened to the tall tale being related by the girl who’d stepped out of a glowing portal.
“So,” Bailey concluded, “make no mistake, they’re coming. What happened in Seattle wasn’t a fluke. I haven’t met you guys in person before, but I do recall you sent me an email saying you’d help me out if I ever made it up to Canada. Well, I have, and now I’m gonna help you out.”
Fenris and Roland, standing at her elbows, nodded solemnly in agreement. Her mind took a short detour to wonder if Roland had ever been into British Columbia before. She didn’t think he had, despite living only a short distance from the border.
“So,” Bailey went on, “keep your people in tight and stay wary. Everybody needs to keep an eye on everyone else. Don’t go out alone, whether in the wilderness or the city, anywhere you’re vulnerable or cut off from help. Travel in large groups and check in regularly. Stuff like that. It’s not much, but it’ll go a long way toward stopping the Venatori from picking off all our alphas and warriors. They’ll have to concentrate on one target at a time, bringing all their witches to bear at once instead of making a bunch of simultaneous strikes against multiple people.”
“Okay.” The alpha frowned, his eyebrows twitching along his brow. He wasn’t hostile toward her unexpected visit, exactly, just flummoxed by the situation. “What’s this stuff about a goddess? Sorry, but I have to ask.”
Roland whispered, “Why did he say ‘sorry?’ It must be true what they say about Canadians.”
Bailey elbowed him in the ribs and replied, “We’ve got credible information that says the Venatori are now being led by an ancient goddess of witchcraft who wants them to keep trying to wipe us out, and me in particular. That’s serious business, but we’re working on a way to counter it. It helps that we have a god of our own, of course, even if he can’t intervene directly on our behalf.”
The Hemlock Valley Weres conferred among themselves for a minute. It sounded like they were debating whether they believed the stuff about Aradia, although Bailey was fairly sure they’d gotten the point about the rest.
The werewitch added, “I know it sounds crazy, but we’ve all seen things lately that we would never have expected to see in ten lifetimes, haven’t we? If we’re not careful, we could end up in a full-on war. A proxy struggle between gods.”
Stating it that way, she wondered if Fenris would disapprove. He hadn’t indicated, as far as she could recall, that he harbored any bitterness toward the other deities. He’d even sort of patched things up with Freya.
The huddle ended, and the alpha faced her again. “All right, we’ll take your advice and be damn careful for a while. Most everything we’ve heard about you has been good, Bailey. We’ve got no reason to distrust you, but it’s hard to believe some of this stuff.”
Admitting they had a point, Bailey bade them farewell. Then she, the wizard, and the god-shaman stepped back through the purple gateway and vanished.
They emerged in the Other, the parallel dimension formed of the mortal world’s magical runoff, which functioned as a hub from which they could open multiple portals and skip from place to place.
So far, they’d been to nine different packs throughout the Pacific Northwest—Oregon, Washington, and southwestern Canada. They had determined that the packs who were closest to Bailey—the South Cliffs, the Silver Stars, and the Junipers, among others—would heed her text warning without extra encouragement, but it seemed wise to visit the others in person. The Hemlocks had been last on the list.
After the portal’s cold, dizz
ying sensation faded, they stepped out into the dim, boggy swamps and woods and misty heaths of the Other.
Roland let out a dramatic exhalation. “I’m glad that’s over. I swear, I get, like, jet lag or something from portal-hopping. Even when it’s across lines of longitude rather than latitude, for whatever reason.”
“You’re weird,” Bailey teased. “Anyway, yeah, I think the wolves of the Northwest are about as prepared as they’re gonna get. What now, Fenris? Do we start my training on how to kill a goddess?”
She had to admit she was curious to the point of excitement. The sheer audacity and insanity of the prospect had piqued her curiosity.
Having fought mortal mages who were terrifyingly powerful enough, she knew that what they were considering was nothing to fuck around with.
Fenris considered his words before he spoke. “We mentioned to the various pack alphas that the Other could, if necessary, act as a safe haven and an emergency refuge site. Now that I think about it, it could be far more than that.”
Roland winced. “Uh-oh. Any time he has an ‘idea’ involving the Other, it usually involves us having to hang out for three days in here fighting consecutive armies of ghosts, demons, angels, will o’ the wisps, shoggoths, and gods know what else. Am I right?”
“No,” Fenris stated. “Only an army of witches.”
The wizard pursed his lips. “Well, that comes as a relief. Witches we can handle, mostly.”
The deity elaborated. “The Venatori view you, Bailey, as the single greatest threat to their supremacy. You are an extremely powerful caster, and one who, not being a member of the witch species, falls outside their control. I suspect that their attacks on alphas are designed to cripple your support structure and deprive you of powerful allies. It’s a temporary digression. Their priority is your destruction, and that means wherever you go, they will follow.”
The proverbial light bulb went off in her head. “Use the Other as a giant trap for them, you mean. I like it. They sure as hell have it coming.”
“That,” Fenris agreed, “but it also moves the fighting away from civilian populations. The witch cult’s methods are growing even more ruthless and erratic. The more we have to confront them on Earth, the more chance there is for casualties among innocent witches or normal humans.”
Bailey gave a sharp nod. “Yeah, definitely. More of them are filtering into the country, though, and plotting their next strike. If we’re going to lure them in here for an ambush, we need to set it up and then spring it as soon as we can. Think we should involve the pack alphas?”
Roland pointed out, “If we don’t, the Venatori might focus on wiping them out while we’re ‘hiding’ in the Other. Of course, if we bring a small army in here, they might suspect an ambush. So, I dunno.”
Silence settled over the bog as Fenris mulled it over. “Involve the alphas. I’ll open a portal to Greenhearth so you can send them another group text to inform them of the plan all at once, not to mention check on the town. Then we’ll start gathering them, leaving breadcrumbs to bait the witches into the trap.”
“Good deal.” Bailey frowned. “I forgot to call my brothers before we went portal-hopping anyway. They’re gonna be pissed.”
They’d spent only an hour back home before warping back into the Other. Bailey had made sure everyone was all right and things were still quiet. Her brothers forgave her, under the circumstances.
Then they’d contacted all the alphas throughout the region. Most of them were keeping their phones close, and it didn’t take long to receive replies. All agreed to the plan, but only four could come right away. The rest asked if they could meet up tomorrow and have today to get things in order with their homes.
“Consider,” Roland suggested as they languished near the pole barn behind the Nordin house, “that we did tell them to make changes with how their whole packs behave. And the Venatori usually pause before their next strike after they hit a snag like they did in Tacoma. I’d say our friends ought to be okay overnight. We can collect them in the morning.”
The werewitch agreed. “So be it. And if the Venatori do strike, they’ve been warned.” Specifically, the packs were to text Bailey right away, so that she and Fenris could open a portal to evacuate them.
Fenris looked around as if feeling the air. “We have the evening to make preparations of our own, then. I suggest we return to the Other for a short time. Remember that time passes more slowly there, so we will not be gone long enough to miss any emergency messages should they come in.”
“Okay.” Bailey shrugged. “It would help if we at least could decide where to set the ambush and roughly how to go about it.”
“We will,” the shaman assured her. “And we should also begin your training for the endgame.”
He turned, raised his hands, spoke a brief incantation, and opened a shimmering doorway in the air before him. Bailey and Roland stepped through, with the god following them.
They emerged in a different part of the Other than the nondescript swamp area they’d used as their teleportation hub. It was, however, familiar.
The ground was higher and somewhat rocky, and the trees were tall and lush. Silver moonlight so bright it was like noon shone on them. At the top of the gradual ridge, the temple of her people’s shamans awaited. They’d come to the holy ground of the lycanthropic people.
“Here?” Bailey asked. “It’s probably a good idea. They’ll think we’re like mice fleeing to someplace we feel safe, when in fact, we’re cats getting ready to pounce.”
Fenris grunted. “This is where we’ll set the trap. We have a natural advantage here. But before we delve into the specifics of that, I feel you must have a basic understanding of how a deity can be destroyed. You won’t be called upon to fight Aradia yet, but the sooner you grasp the fundamentals of it, the better.”
Roland gave a low whistle. “This ought to be good. There are old myths and legends of mighty heroes who struck down gods with enchanted weapons and stuff like that, but I assumed they were metaphorical. Though we do have records of divine beings ceasing to exist.”
The tall shaman’s face seemed darker and more brooding than usual beneath his hood, and he waved a hand sharply.
“It can only be done with magic,” he began. “No mortal weapon can accomplish the deed.”
Bailey leaned forward. Her skin prickled as she listened.
“Only powerful witches or wizards, or werewitches, possess the requisite power. Most were-shamans lack the arcane capacity for deicide. Other supernatural creatures who possess a handful of magical tricks or humans who’ve managed to unlock a small portion of the occult have never demonstrated the necessary strength. A god such as I has the power, but for me to kill Aradia would start a war of the divine, which could unmake the world. In other words, Bailey, you are one of the few people who has a chance.”
She swallowed a mouthful of spit.
“It’s extremely dangerous,” Fenris continued. “Even if you’re successful, the process involves levels of power few beings are equipped to handle.”
Roland leaned in next to her and held her hand. She knew for all that he was worried about her, his bump of intellectual curiosity had to be practically drooling right now about hearing the highest secrets of magic.
“What you must do,” the tall man said and spread his hands, each forming a sort of claw, “is to perform a ritual that will create a conduit between you and the witch-goddess. Then you must ground it the way you would a lightning rod and open up a transference of power, much like using jumper cables on a car battery. From there, you have two options.”
He makes it sound so simple, Bailey mused. I kinda suspect, though, that the reality isn’t going to be that straightforward.
“First, you can bleed her dry. Allow her magic to dissipate into the surrounding universe so that she weakens to the point of ceasing to exist. That, however, carries the danger of doing damage to the rest of the world. Not to mention, she can retaliate as she’s dying.”
Bailey squinted. “Sounds like that’d be Plan B, then.”
“Perhaps,” Fenris acceded. “But the other method has its risks as well. That one involves using yourself as a vessel for the drained power. You would essentially vampirize her, stealing her strength and directing it back against her while she is weakened. It would allow you to eliminate her more quickly. But...”
Roland sighed. “Here we go with the proviso.”
“There are many ways it could go wrong on your end, all of which would kill you.”
She looked at the ground and prodded a rock with the tip of her boot. “Well, that sucks, too.”
Fenris shook his head. “There is no easy way. If you adopt the second method, you might absorb too much of the goddess’ magic at once, which would be like setting off a nuclear bomb within yourself. Or you might fail to absorb enough, which would neither weaken Aradia sufficiently nor give you enough power to kill her. The task will balance on the edge of a knife, no matter how you approach it. But I can help prepare you.”
Having concluded his spiel, he motioned for her to sit cross-legged against a tree, and meditate on all he’d said.
“Soon,” he added, “we will return to Greenhearth to ensure nothing’s happened while we’ve been gone. But for now, relax your mind and open it as wide as you can. You’re going to need to broaden your horizons beyond anything you’ve done before if you intend to act as a receptacle for the ultimate power of the universe.”
Chapter Five
Most of the alphas and lieutenants had never been into the Other in any capacity, let alone the part of it that was the sacred territory of their race.
“Wow,” one of them breathed, his eyes as big as golf balls.
Bailey and Fenris had brought them right to the edge of the enchanted forest. They were still a fair distance from the temple, but here was where the holy ground began. It was more rugged than the rest of the Other, but also far more beautiful—a wolves’ paradise of lush wilderness beneath a perpetually full moon.