by Brenda Drake
We return to our room, and Marek helps Lugh to the bed.
Lugh looks from Marek to me. “Only one bed?”
“It was the only room left,” Marek says quickly.
I hide the heat rising in my cheeks and rush into the bathroom. The cold water spurts before smoothly running out of the faucet. I grab a face cloth and drench it, wring it out, and bring it to Lugh.
“Here, wipe the cut over your eyebrow.” I extend the cloth to him.
He takes it and places it against his wound. “Thanks. You two were heading out.”
“Yeah,” I say, sitting on the desk chair. “We were going to call my brother. I need to check in. Make sure he hasn’t told Jane…my mom where I am.”
Marek leans against the dresser. “We think her cousin might be in danger.”
Lugh lowers the washcloth. “Why do you think that?”
“We’re related, and his father was a Death Riser.” I twist the chair left and right, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. I stop when Lugh frowns at me. “Don’t you get it? He has to be a Riser like me. They’ll go after him.”
“Oh.” Lugh returns the cloth to his brow. “He’ll be safe. You needn’t be worrying about that one.”
Marek gives him a doubtful look. “You heard her, right? He’s her cousin. Raising the dead runs in her family. There are people out there who want to kill them.”
A smug look settles on Lugh’s face. “I very well understand. I wanted to avoid this, but I see no other way. Eli wasn’t Dalton’s biological father.”
I stand so quickly the chair rolls back and crashes into the desk. “What? Is that true?”
“Unfortunately, it is,” Lugh says. “Eli was a great man. I knew he’d be a loving father. He couldn’t have his own children, so I helped Jane and him out.”
“You…and Jane?” I plop back onto the chair.
He throws his head back and laughs. “No. Not like that. I gave a donation. They didn’t know I was a god. Eli and Jane just thought I be a school friend of your parents. I met them at your parents’ wedding. I stayed with them a few times while I was in the States. That’s why your mother thought I’d be the best one to deliver you to them.”
My head feels like it’s going to explode. “What does that make Dalton?”
“A god’s son,” he says. “And when he gets his power, someone who’ll be protecting you.”
“You did that…just so I’d have a protector?” I’m having a hard time threading a coherent thought together.
“Not entirely. It’s just an added bonus.” Lugh tosses the washcloth on the bed. “I saw an opportunity to help a friend. That is all. Dalton was loved by his father…and is by his mother. He’s more than a protector for you. He’s my son. As long as I’m alive, he’ll be taken care of.”
“You know Dalton is a great guy.”
He smiles. “I know. After I brought you to Eli and Jane, I lived in Fishtown for six years. To make sure you be safe and to be with my son. Eli and Jane were quite kind to me. You two be closer than real brothers and sisters I’ve seen. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll send Sid on a flight tonight. He’ll watch over them.”
“Thanks. I need some fresh air. I’m going to explore the roof.” I push myself up from the chair, open the door, and let it close on Lugh’s and Marek’s protests behind me.
The door opens again, and Lugh’s voice carries down the hall. “Get her back here. There are immortals all over the area.”
Marek rushes for the elevator but doesn’t make it before the doors close. I don’t even try to hold them open for him. I push the button for the top floor. The elevator arrives, and I step out, pausing at the view. The sun has just gone down, leaving the sky a dark blue, and the Colosseum is lit up in gold lights. Headlights from vehicles rushing across the streets flash like stars over the dark pavement.
I walk to the edge and take in several fresh breaths. What do I do with this information? Do I tell Dalton? Or wait and let Lugh come clean? Jane might not want that to happen. I’m thinking I don’t want that, either. Eli is Dalton’s dad. He’s mine, too. No amount of blood can change that. Can change every special moment we spent with him.
No. I won’t tell Dalton.
I brush the tears now dripping from my eyelashes.
It’s so unfair. Some people are dealt crappy cards in life. My parents barely had any time to live. I can’t guarantee I’ll have a long life, either. Even if I’m a master of death, or whatever I am. Raising the dead? Gods? It’s all so absurd. These are things that happen in movies or video games, not here. Not in real life.
The air behind me adjusts, letting me know that Marek has caught up with me. “It’s not safe out here.”
“Do you see the heat lamps?”
“Yeah,” he says.
“They’re copper.”
“And?”
“It keeps me off the gods’ radar.”
He steps closer. “And you learned this how?”
“Bastet told me. It’s why Pazuzu didn’t sense us when we were behind that wall.”
“Well, maybe we should make armor out of the stuff.”
I wrap my arms around myself. A gust whips my hair around, and I push it away from my face. “Last week I was at school taking finals before Spring Break. Now, we’re here. I don’t even know who I am. I’m definitely not who I thought I was.”
“Come on, you’re not going to let a little thing like being a Death Riser define you, are you?” He comes up to my side. “Man, this is a great view.”
I press my lips together, a chuckle bubbling up my chest. “You’re not funny.”
“What can I say? I’m trying.” He bumps my shoulder with his. “What’ja say we get back to the room. Besides, we need to plan our route to Paris. I think we should go right away.”
“Yeah, okay.” I give the Colosseum one last look. Nearly four hundred thousand people died over the time it was in use, a million animals slaughtered. Where were the Death Risers then? Did they do something? They could have raised an army of Risen, let them turn into beasts and kill those cruel rulers. If we have the power to bring people back, it’s a shame we can’t use it.
“Hey.” Marek wraps his hand around mine. “Where are you? You’re miles away.”
I flash him a smile. “I’m right here. Let’s get to Paris.”
Going to Paris will bring us one step closer to finishing Adam Conte’s hunt. One step closer to finding Marek’s family’s piece of the Divinities Keep. One step closer to going home. And several steps away from Marek.
…
Driving in a sardine can with an extremely tall god and a nearly six-foot Marek almost wholly eliminates leg room. Add Bastet taking up residency on my lap, and to say I’m uncomfortable is an understatement. I twist my body and rest my legs on the seat beside me. Bastet gives me a look before going back to sleep.
Ten hours.
That’s about how long it’ll take to get to Paris. Lugh wouldn’t let us take public transportation. Not with immortals searching for me, particularly a demon god and some creepy group called the Lares. Not to mention, Bastet wouldn’t have been able to come, and having her around is comforting.
When Lugh was asleep, I used the medical tape Marek got for him at a nearby pharmacy to secure my dad’s lighter just above my ankle, and I covered it with my sock. Something called Divinity’s Soul sounds too important to be in the hands of a teen. I’m pretty sure Dad meant for it to stay in the safe. Now I get why he kept his collection of Norman Rockwell copper plates in it. Jane was always complaining about how silly it was that he had them.
I just had to take the lighter. I sigh.
“This is not a very fun road trip,” I complain. “Where’s all the junk food? We need to get some when we stop for gas.”
Lugh glances at me in the rearview mirror
. “That food will kill you.”
“I know a lot of other things that will, too.” I tug on the seat belt that’s threatening to strangle me.
Marek looks over the back seat, the sun setting behind us making him squint. “I’m with you. Junk food is a must.” He winks, and I reward him with a bright smile.
“All right,” Lugh says. “There’s no need to gang up on me. We must have an understanding.”
“An understanding?” I repeat. “Over snacks? We all get what we want. That’s the rule of road trips.”
He shakes his head, and the stiffness in his jaw tells me it’s something serious. “No. It’s not that,” he says, and he gives Marek a nod. “I’m not going all the way to Paris with you. I be putting you on a train at Milano Centrale.”
Raindrops ping the windshield.
Marek is nodding his head as he listens. As if he isn’t shocked.
I decide to do the protesting for us. “You have to go with us. What if more scary gods find us?”
Lugh turns on the wipers. “Your grandfather was a smart man, planting the clues in Rome.” He gives Marek another sidelong glance. “They be looking for you there. They sense you all over Rome. They won’t suspect you’ve left and are in Paris. Unless…” He leans forward and wipes the fog away from the window with his hand.
“Unless what?” Marek asks, sounding impatient.
Lugh settles back in his seat. “Unless I stay with you. Those Risen in the library weren’t looking for you. They followed me. Probably have been for a while because of me relationship with Ana’s parents. Someone suspects I’m in contact with you. They’ll seek me out. It’d be too risky for you to be with me.”
I slide down a little in my seat, disappointment taking the wind out of me. The thought of Lugh going with us to Paris gave me hope that Marek and I could survive this wild hunt. I’m pretty sure Bastet won’t be allowed to travel with us. But Lugh isn’t done hitting us with distressing news.
“The last time a Keeper died,” Lugh continues, “the possibility of stealing their Parzalis during the progeny’s hunt caused a frenzy. Much like we see now.”
Marek scratches the side of his head. “How do they know when a Keeper dies?”
“The ancient dead whisper it to their god. Give the name.”
I finally join the conversation. “Why don’t they just go to Heaven or wherever and leave us alone?”
“In life, the ancient dead worshipped gods and goddesses. People in that time had a favorite one. They attached to their god in death and couldn’t move on. They remain in the place between here and the afterlife, feeding on the secrets the newly departed carry with them on the way to their final resting place.”
“And tell those secrets to their god,” I add. “Which causes a race to get the talisman before the progeny can. We’ve heard some of it. Is there anything else?”
“That’s it,” Lugh confirms.
Marek grips the back of his seat so tight his knuckles turn white. He’s nodding his head, letting it all sink in.
“You’ll understand,” Lugh says. “Analiese can’t be continuing with you. She’s in great danger. I must get her into hiding, now that she be discovered.”
That makes me sit straight up and earns a protest hiss from Bastet. “I’m going with him. You can’t stop me.”
Marek shakes his head at me. “No. He’s right. I have to go alone. If they get you, think of what your power in the wrong hands can do. Those beasts can kill tons of people.”
I’m sure they’re right. I should go into hiding with Lugh. I can’t leave Marek alone, though. He conceals his fear well, but I feel it seeping out of him. It pulses around me, clings to my own. It’s what connects us.
You must not let the boy go alone. Bastet confirms for me. You are stronger together.
Okay, do you have any ideas on how to do that? I pull my legs under me and press my forehead to the window, watching the scenery go from city to country.
An opportunity will show itself. Do not hesitate. Act on it.
I close my eyes and think about what she’s told me, letting the rattle and hum of the ancient Alfa Romeo lull me to sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bang.
I jerk awake.
BangBangBangBangBang.
I’m alone, and it’s pitch black outside. I can’t see a thing. The Alfa Romeo rocks. My pulse quickens. Both front doors are wide open, and the overhead lamp spotlights me while everything around the car is dark.
I pop open the door and roll out onto the ground. Crawling on my hands and knees, I go around the back of the Alfa Romeo to the driver’s side door, reach in, and turn on the headlights. Lugh and Marek are fighting a large man with a halo of dark curly hair. He’s dressed in khaki pants and a white shirt with red stains.
Blood?
“Quit it, Bacchus!” Lugh shouts. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are,” the man bellows, effortlessly tossing Marek off his back. “You have your power. I want mine. We need the girl.”
Bastet sits at the edge of a copse of trees. Opportunity. She darts into the woods, disappearing into the dark.
Lugh slams a fist into Bacchus’s side. Bacchus lands in an earth-shaking thump against the ground. “I can’t believe you sided with them,” Lugh says, standing over Bacchus. “You have all you want. Your vineyard. Family. What do you need the power of a god for? Those times are past. Let them go.”
Small dots of light move down the hill between the rows of grapevines. We’re near a vineyard.
“That can’t be good,” I mutter and climb onto the seat. The key is still in the ignition, so I push on the gas and turn. The Alfa Romeo sputters and stops. I try it again. It stalls.
Bacchus struggles to his feet, and Marek hits him with a rake. The man turns and backhands Marek, sending him flying into the tall grasses surrounding the clearing we’re parked in.
Once again I turn the key, and the Alfa Romeo coughs to life. Lugh hurries to the passenger side door, carrying Marek. He drops Marek on the seat and looks at me.
“Guess you’ll be going with him after all,” Lugh says. “Drive east and don’t stop. Get on the train to Paris at the Milano station. Only stop for gas, nothing else. You hear me?”
“Yes, but aren’t you coming?”
“Those aren’t mortals coming down the hill. They’re Bacchus’s sons and daughters. Demigods. I’m going to stall them so you can get away.” Lugh slams the door.
I grip the wheel tight. “No. Come with us. There’re too many of them.”
He bends over so I can see him through the window. “I’m a god of many skills. A warrior. Growing old is just a parlor trick. I’ll be fine.” He winks. “Now, off with you.”
Tires spin when I push on the gas. The Alfa Romeo bounces over potholes in the bumpy dirt road. Marek groans in the seat beside me but doesn’t wake up. Tears pool in my eyes, and I don’t try to stop them. Not daring to take my hands off the steering wheel, I let them run down my face and fall off my cheeks.
He’ll be okay. He’s strong, I reassure myself.
The Alfa Romeo hops onto the pavement. It’s a small road, and I’m not sure which way is east.
“Marek.” He doesn’t respond, so I shout, “Marek!”
His eyes open, and he seems dazed. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” The road has a lot of curves, so I don’t take my eyes off it. “Get your GPS. We have to go east. To the station in Milan.”
Wincing, he searches the glove capartment where he stuffed the GPS eariler and pulls it out.
“Where’s Lugh?” He enters our destination.
“That man you were fighting. His name is Bacchus. He’s the Greek god of wine and fertility. He has a lot of kids. Oh, and agriculture. I almost forgot that.” I’m anxious, and when that happens, I get ramb
ly. “Anyway, those kids were coming for us. Lugh’s holding them off.”
Marek frowns at the GPS screen. “You’re going the wrong way. Make a U-turn.”
I slow down and whip the Alfa Romeo around.
“Shit,” he snaps.
I risk a glance at him. “What?” The car swerves a little, and I straighten it.
“My money belt ripped.” He lifts his shirt. “It’s gone.” After looking around him, he searches the back seat. “Where are our jackets?”
“They’re missing?”
“Yeah, must’ve fallen out during the attack. Shit. The money’s gone. Our passports. What’re we going to do?”
My pillbox.
I so want to yell right now, but it won’t do us any good. Stay Positive. Dad’s motto.
“I have money,” I say. We’ll have to make it work.” I’m not sure I have enough, but right now he looks a mess, and I don’t want to worry him.
Shifting my eyes from the road to him then to the road again, I ask, “What happened back there?”
He flips down the visor. The tiny light attached to it barely illuminates his face as he inspects the damage. “We pulled over so Lugh could drain the dragon. That man came out of nowhere. Attacked Lugh. We fought. I went flying. Woke up here. That’s all I know.”
“Bacchus must’ve sensed us. I’ll be glad when this is over.”
Just as I say that, I think it may never be over for me. Not unless someone destroys all the pieces of that talisman. If the gods have no way of getting their power back, they have no reason to fight. That means they have no reason to use me.
A realization hits me. The talisman can’t be destroyed. If it could be, the Keepers would have done it ages ago.
I glance at Marek again. “Do we still have the train tickets?”
Lugh bought them online using the business center at the hotel.
Marek flips the visor shut, opens the glove compartment, and retrieves the printouts. “Got them, Olivia.” He usues the fake name Lugh entered for mine. It’s from one of Mr. Conte’s fake passports.