Limbo City Lights (Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc.)

by Angela Roquet

  I stepped around Silenus and gazed into the shadows cloaking the corner where Apollo and the Pythia huddled. “Forget Batman. Try Two-Face.”

  The sun god’s silhouette was hard to make out. The fact that it was randomly warping and elongating didn’t help. His chin dipped lower, like it would if he were speaking, but his mouth never opened. Instead, a manic grin tugged up one side of his face, while a deep frown creased the other. His sunken eyes rose to meet mine, and he quickly lifted a hand to shield himself from me.

  “Please,” he groaned. “Leave me.”

  The walls of the cave trembled again, and bits of rock and dirt rained down from the ceiling. Some of the doves abandoned their nests and fluttered in circles above us, their coos growing more panicked by the second. Gabriel’s wings shuddered in response. He walked around the other side of Silenus, completing the semicircle in the corner where strange chaos was brewing.

  Gabriel reached out, like he might touch Apollo, but he hesitated and pulled his hand back, clenching it in a fist to his chest. “We all miss Josie—”

  “It’s the curse of loving a soulless creature, isn’t it?” Apollo’s voice came out too loud. Too abrasive and bitter.

  I cocked my head to one side. “Creature?”

  Silenus’s hand found mine and squeezed hard. “I’ll stoke the fires of your ego later, my dear,” he whispered. “Better you swallow it now than let it bring a mountain down on our heads. Yes?”

  I scowled and pulled my hand away.

  Gabriel gave me an apologetic frown and turned back to Apollo. “I’m afraid it is, but I still love them just the same.”

  “Why?” Apollo’s jaw elongated again. This time, the bones in his brow and cheeks shifted too. “Why?” he shouted again. “What’s the point?”

  The Pythia ran a pale, trembling hand down his arm. “You have other lovers, my morning light.”

  Apollo jerked away, causing her to gasp and shrink at his feet. Her arms came up, as if to fend off a blow, and she sobbed as her face shape-shifted in time with the god’s.

  “What the—” I stepped in closer, but Silenus put his arm out to stop me.

  “If the Maenad shows, you won’t want to be within her reach.”

  Gabriel ignored the warning and knelt down to take the Pythia by her shoulders. “Hold on just a little longer. Apollo needs you.”

  Apollo snarled at us. “I don’t need anyone. I need to disappear beyond the North Wind.”

  Silenus shook his head. “Winter is two months off, boy. And you haven’t yet brought the annual prophecy to the Afterlife Council—”

  “Like I give two goats about the damn council.”

  “Now, now.” Silenus waved a hand at him. “You don’t mean that.” His eyes shifted from me to Gabriel. “He doesn’t mean that,” he said, as if we might report the god.

  “The hell if I don’t.” Apollo’s face had narrowed again. The Pythia sniffled and peeked over her shoulder at him, turning away with a squeal when he lunged at her.

  “Dick.” I crinkled my nose at him. The pussyfoot act was clearly getting us nowhere.

  Apollo blinked stiffly. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  Silenus’s tail swished against my leg. “Hey, we’re all friends here.”

  “Are we?” Apollo sneered.

  I folded my arms. “Sorry. I’m not friends with jerks who bully their companions.”

  The Pythia made a small noise. Her head was pressed to the cave floor, her hair spilled out before her, exposing the flushed skin of her neck and back where her robe had fallen away. She swayed forward, stretching her hands out to grasp the rock floor. When the sound came again, it was very distinct—and it was laughter.

  Silenus clutched his lantern and took several steps back. “Two months. Two months. Winter mustn’t come sooner. You won’t have the strength to withstand the season’s sparagmos—”

  “Silly Sil,” the Pythia groaned. When she sat up, the whites of her eyes had disappeared, leaving full black orbs staring out at us. “Winter does not need your permission.”

  Apollo’s grin spread across his narrowed face. He reached out for the Pythia, pulling her onto his lap and tugging the red robe down her shoulders. “Make yourself useful and bring us some more ale, Sil.”

  “Sil’s not bringing you shit. He has a brewery to run, and you’re being a pain in everyone’s ass.” I grabbed the Pythia’s arm and pulled her to her feet, earning a horrified moan from Silenus, as if I’d just stuck my hand in the mouth of a crocodile. When the Pythia’s fingernails dug into my arm, I wondered if maybe I had.

  Her bottomless eyes engulfed me as she seized my wrist with her other hand, locking me in place before her. She was much stronger than I expected, for such a tiny human soul.

  “Perhaps we’ll have us a little sparagmos now,” she rasped, stretching my arms out to the sides. My shoulders popped, and I had a sudden moment of panic as I realized she intended to—quite literally—rip me from limb to limb.

  Apollo cackled. He didn’t look at all like himself anymore. Dionysus boiled beneath his flesh, ready to free his other half from misery the only way he knew how. His form warped in time with the Pythia’s. I knew as soon as Dionysus took over, so would the Maenad. And if she didn’t ritually tear me apart, Grim would unceremoniously rip me a new one, once I returned to Limbo City.

  The Pythia’s prophecies helped plan for the following year’s soul harvests. They helped the Afterlife Council decide how to distribute leftover soul matter. And now, more than ever, they gave us an edge over the rebels who had managed to initiate the Second War of Eternity.

  The Pythia’s hold on me was strained, as if an inner debate was taking place on the best way to dismember me. Dionysus’s curious eyes watched intently from Apollo’s face, while Silenus looked away, still clinging to his lantern.

  I expected Gabriel to come to my rescue, so I was rather surprised when I saw him step in behind Apollo and place his hands on the god’s shoulders. “Is this how you will honor Josie?” Gabriel said softly. “By destroying what little she cared for in the world?”

  The Pythia’s grip on my arms relaxed, but she didn’t let go. Apollo’s chin widened as he pushed to the surface. His bloodshot eyes watered as he choked back a sob. “Honor? Her ashes are under a bench in a city park.” He glared at Gabriel. “If she had been human, I could have bought her soul.” He turned his scorn on the Pythia next. “I’ll never have to mourn my other lovers. You’d think this pain would be bittersweet, but it sears me to the core. And now the world goes on. It cares not for my grief, and I’m expected to perform like a circus monkey for the council.”

  The Pythia sucked in a pained breath. “Is that what you think of our communion?”

  Apollo drifted again as Dionysus tried to emerge. “After nearly three millennia of the same monotonous ritual, what do you think?”

  The Pythia trembled, shaking me along with her. It began in misery, but quickly shifted to rage as the Maenad tried to break free again. “Well, you wrote the book, darling,” she snarled, tightening her grasp again.

  Gabriel’s eyes widened over Apollo’s shoulder. His jaw tensed and he swallowed. It occurred to me that he was actually worried I wouldn’t make it out of the cave alive. My cool resolve shattered and I felt my heart turn to stone in my chest. Of all the ways to go, this was not what I had envisioned.

  Josie’s death had been far from glamorous, but she had gone down fighting the good fight. My demise was looking more pathetic by the second. I doubted I’d even warrant a memorial bench, if I happened to be accidentally offed by a depressed deity.

  Gabriel tried again, gently rubbing Apollo’s shoulders. “If not for Josie, think of the Pythia, who has loved and served you for thousands of years. You are linked in spirit. Do you see how you torture her? Do you see the violence you compel her to inflict?”

  Apollo closed his eyes and turned his face away. “You don’t give a damn about my oracle. Your concern lies
with your fragile friend. But why should I care? Is she not the one ultimately responsible for what’s come to pass?”

  “Excuse me?” I said, jerking sideways to get a better view from around the Pythia. I was about to come apart like a defective Chinese finger trap, but I’d kept my mouth shut long enough. “How do you figure it’s my fault?”

  Apollo ripped away from Gabriel and stormed across the cave to look down at me from a more menacing angle. “She followed you into the heat of battle, no matter the price. She trusted you implicitly, even when you withheld information.” He sniffed at my surprised expression. “You broke her heart, and then you fed it to the wolves.”

  “That’s enough.” Gabriel’s wings beat sharply, blowing bits of dust and feathers across the cave. The doves responded in kind, filling the cave with their noisy panic.

  Tears clouded my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. The Pythia’s iron hold prevented me from wiping them away. “He’s right,” I said. “I never did fully trust her. I never trusted anyone.”

  “No,” Gabriel said. “Lana, Josie’s death is not your fault. She wanted to advance more than you did. You know that as well as I do. And Apollo knows it too. He’s just hurting and looking for someone to take it out on.”

  Apollo turned and charged Gabriel, coming nose to nose with him as his face twisted into Dionysus. “Would you prefer I take it out on you?”

  “You mean someone your own size? Are you sure that’s such a good idea, in your condition?” Gabriel’s features tightened and a glint of mischief crept into his eyes, as if he had given up on calming the god. Or maybe the mad raving was contagious.

  Dionysus’s scream filled the cave. His eyes filled with black, and the Maenad’s grip tightened, drawing me in closer to her. Her breasts pressed against mine, and she shivered. “You’re much more tender than our usual sacrifices. This will be easy. I’ll lick you from my fingers like cake.”

  Silenus backed into a corner and ducked down to curl himself around his lantern. He was part of Dionysus’s entourage, but he seemed oddly repelled by typical ritual activities during the off-season, when he was sober. I wanted to be angry he wasn’t helping me, but I suppose I should have just been glad he wasn’t joining the Pythia in her early sparagmos celebration.

  My shoulders were on the cusp of dislocating, and there wasn’t much I could do about it. The thought of harming one of the few original souls felt sacrilegious, but whether by friend or foe—or soul-crushing guilt—I wasn’t keen on dying today.

  So I whistled. Soft and low. Just enough to let the hounds know I could use some moral support. Saul bound into sight first, his tongue wagging playfully as he bobbed his big black head around to check out the flurry of doves going crazy above us. The Maenad showed no concern. If anything, she looked amused.

  “His coat is lovely. Much like the ceremonial bulls we use,” she said, giving me a cruel smile.

  I blanched. “You’re a heathen.”

  “No dear, I’m the queen of the heathens.” She howled in my face. Her breath smelled of wine and raw meat, and her moist arms chaffed against my own. I was pretty sure the Pythia had finally left the building. So I didn’t feel bad about what I did next.

  “Aggredere!”

  Saul jumped up on his back haunches and placed his coffee can paws on the Maenad’s shoulders. His jaws opened and lowered over her, just as Apollo resurfaced.

  “No!” He reached out, terror staining his face.

  Saul’s teeth bypassed the Maenad’s flesh. Instead, he latched on to her heavy robe and pulled her to the ground, dragging me along. The Maenad gasped and let go of me to catch herself, but she was too slow. Her head bounced against the cave floor, and the Pythia cried out, returning on impact.

  Apollo threw himself to the ground, pulling the Pythia into his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, tucking her head under his chin. “I shouldn’t have come here. I should have stayed home.”

  Gabriel rushed to my side and reached down to help me to my feet. “I think it’s time to go.”

  I nodded and rubbed my bruised arms.

  Apollo’s tear-streaked face turned up to us. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this.”

  Gabriel pressed his lips together. “We know. It hasn’t been easy for us either.”

  Apollo wept and pulled the Pythia in closer. She looked dazed and confused, her eyes rapidly blinking and taking in everything. I wondered if souls could sustain concussions. Maybe that was just her normal state—when she wasn’t a raving lunatic during the winter months, that is.

  The chaotic cooing and flapping finally settled, and I could hear myself think again. I could also hear the unmistakable crunching of an unsanctioned snack. We all turned at the same time.

  Coreen stood halfway across the room. Two small, white wings stuck out from either side of her mouth. She stopped munching when she noticed us staring and tried to give me her best innocent face. It was a little hard with her cheeks full of bird.

  “Cessa,” I hissed. Her ears lay flat, but she refused to drop the bird, and slowly, defiantly, she began chewing again. “Cessa.” I pointed at the ground.

  “She can have it,” Silenus said, finally brave enough to join us again. He set his lantern down on the cave floor and flopped down next to it.

  I collapsed beside him, and Saul came over to nuzzle his head in my lap. Gabriel stood in the center of the room with the rest of us sprawled around him, as if his massive wings had blown us down. The silence was only punctuated by the soft sounds of Coreen’s chewing and Apollo’s sobs.

  “Would you like an escort back to the temple?” Gabriel asked.

  The god shook his head gently and ran his fingers through the Pythia’s long tresses. “Tell the council to expect my report on the morrow.”

  Gabriel nodded and held his hand out to me. I took it and stood, turning to call Coreen. She was slumped against the back wall of the cave, looking miserable and bloated. “Bite off more than you could chew?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

  Coreen whined and groaned in reply. When I slapped my leg, she lay down and rolled her head back. Her rib cage flexed and rippled, and my breath caught in my throat. “Silenus?”

  “Hmm?” He looked up at me and then followed my gaze.

  “You ever see another beast eat one of those doves? It doesn’t look like it’s agreeing with my hound.”

  “I ate one just last week,” Silenus said, flinching as Apollo frowned at him. “I was working overtime, and I got hungry.”

  “And it didn’t make you sick?” I asked, watching Coreen writhe.

  Saul tentatively sniffed under her tail, and then jumped away just in time. A red blob splattered onto the cave floor. The sulfuric stench of hellhound blood tinted the air, and I covered my nose and mouth as two more blobs joined the first.

  “Zeus almighty.” Silenus stood and took a step back.

  Coreen twisted herself around and began lapping at the mess she’d made. I gagged and looked away. “What’s wrong with her?”

  Gabriel brushed past me. “Ohhh,” he cooed. “They’re precious.”

  I spun around wide-eyed. The first blob had been transformed into a little ball of black fur. Gabriel scooped it up and cradled it to his chest, while Coreen cleaned up the last two.

  “Puppies?” I stared in disbelief. “How?” I gave Saul a disgusted look and his ears flattened in offense.

  Apollo stood and helped the Pythia to her feet so they could get a better look at the pup in Gabriel’s arms. “Its muzzle is bit narrow—more like a jackal,” the god noted.

  “Anubis.” I grimaced. “He was in the city with his jackals a couple months back.” I looked down at Coreen and sighed. “I let you out of sight for two seconds. Geez.”

  The Pythia rubbed a finger under the pup’s chin and smiled softly. “What will you do with three more hounds?”

  I shrugged. “Sleep on the floor, I guess.”

  She giggled—a far more pleasant sound than she had made unde
r the influence of the Maenad—and took the pup from Gabriel to return in to its siblings, now suckling at Coreen’s belly. I felt entirely too stupid for not realizing my own hound had been pregnant, but to be fair, birth was something usually reserved for the mortal world. We didn’t witness it often on this side of the grave.

  Apollo watched the Pythia fawn over the litter with moist, melancholy eyes. “All this time, I thought she was the most fragile of my heart’s desires.” His breath trembled out in a great sigh. “Do you suppose that’s why I cared so deeply for Josie? Because your kind are so very fragile? Because your deaths are more permanent than humans even?”

  “That’s a question for a professional. We all have our vices.” I thought of my own attraction to men from hell and wondered if maybe I should be talking to a professional myself. I shrugged the notion away and patted Apollo on the back. “As far as a permanent death, I prefer to believe that reapers are just as susceptible to reincarnation as anyone else. And while I’m indulging these delusions, I prefer to believe that our vehicle of rebirth happens to be hellhounds.”

  Apollo smiled at that. “I wondered about your hounds.”

  Saul had been named after my late mentor, Saul Avelo, and Coreen was named in honor of Grim’s late second-in-command, Coreen Bendura. Reapers were technically immortal. We had the potential to live forever, but we could be offed just as easily as the humans, if you asked me. The only true immortals were the gods who still had a following in the mortal realm. The rest of us were just along for the ride.

  “Oh, Apollo.” The Pythia snuggled a puppy under her chin and turned her pleading eyes up at us. “Can we keep one? Please?”

  A grin tugged at the god’s lips and he looked at me. “I hear that Hades fetches a pretty coin for his pups in Tartarus. Though these are clearly not purebred,” he added. “And I imagine Holly will have quite the fit when you return with the lot of them to her pristine abode.” He tapped a finger to his chin. “What if we brought your hound back to the temple and allowed her to raise her litter there with us? Would that be a suitable trade of services for one of the pups?”