by Carrow Brown
In my pantheon, we did have a god who happened to be a talking squirrel. I’d just never seen him up close.
“Stars and void, Ratatoskr, what do you want?”
The squirrel leaped from the stool to my pant leg. “I can’t come and go as I please?”
I leaned toward the fuzzy critter. “Everyone has an agenda.”
“Fine. I owe a favor to someone, and they asked me to help you.”
“Someone? Who is this someone?”
“The situation is humiliating enough without having to divulge the details, nor do I have to tell you. Be content with my help. Especially now.”
I studied the squirrel god. “What makes now the perfect time for your help?”
“Because you’re going the wrong way. You should have been going after the book Odin requested instead of this little wild goose chase with the mythics.”
One of my eyebrows rose. “Why? Because the order to steal it came from Odin?”
“No. It’s because Odin wants to use it against you. And the magi named Floyd wants to use it for his own reasons, but he created a diversion to keep you away from it until he could obtain it.”
I jerked away from him. “Wait, wait, wait, what are you saying?”
“You heard me correctly.” Ratatoskr turned from me at a sound in the wood, his head looking out to the trees and then to me once more. “The gossip I’ve heard is that the book can only be opened by those who have an affinity with Outer Ones. It’s ancient and was passed down from one Outermancer to his disciple when the time was right.”
“That doesn’t explain how Odin can use it against me.”
“Given that you’re part Outer One, I’d think you’d already under—”
The arm of the lawn chair broke under my hand. “I am not one of them!”
The squirrel’s teeth found their way into my palm, and I let out a curse while trying to shake him off. It took several attempts before he flew off and landed on the grass a few feet away.
He turned to face me, his tail swishing behind him. “You cannot deny the truth of your nature. Why else would you be ostracized?”
I wanted to argue that he was wrong, but even as I opened my mouth to do so, the words didn’t come. Instead I leaned back in my chair and looked off to the side. “Because I don’t want to acknowledge it.”
“Denial doesn’t work for mortals and won’t work for you.” Ratatoskr crawled up my pant leg and made himself comfortable once more. “Now, you need to find this book before someone else does and uses it against you.” He climbed up onto my arm. “And for the sake of balancing the scales, I would be happy to provide what information I know to you.”
“That’s not fair. I know nothing about your deal. For all I know, you could be trying to screw me over. What assurance do I have that you’re here for my benefit?”
“Floyd wants to use the book and the mythics to open up a portal through which the Outer Ones can come and consume all life.”
I froze in the chair. “You can’t be serious.”
“I could be. I could not be. Will you risk the possible lie in face of a truth? This is why getting the book is more important. If you have that, then it will hinder what Floyd is trying to do. Think about it.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Feels too convenient that the two are connected. And besides, I can’t follow the logic of what you’re saying with Odin.”
“Why? Because you know him so well?” At my glower, he held up his little paws. “Sore spot, I know. Look, let’s cover facts we know. You were... birthed and locked up afterwards. Add in some intervention from Loki and then you’re out there at the Well of Knowledge in the middle of nowhere where it is impossible to get to.”
“I always assumed it was because he didn’t want anyone to know I existed. All pantheons have their black sheep.”
“Yes, but they always do something to earn that rap. Lucifer defied his creator and continued to rule the underworld. Hades was sent to rule the underworld because—”
“He’s antisocial and didn’t want to be around the others,” I interrupted. “He gets a bad rap from humans because they are afraid of death. You’re not convincing me.”
“The point is they did something. You were born, locked away, and the evidence about you constantly erased. Look, I’ve observed you over the eons. I cannot say your treatment is deserved. Loki had to kill a god to receive a fraction of the treatment you receive.”
I leaned back into my chair and looked at the forest. What Ratatoskr said hit closer to home than I wanted to give voice to. All his words were thoughts I’d had at some point or another. Part of me always wondered what it was about me that would result in such rejection. I’d tried a lot of things to gain positive favor with my pantheon. The entire reason I’d joined the enforcers was to show I wasn’t worthless. Through my actions, I hoped to show I wasn’t only a monster, I was more. I wanted to enter the Norse halls as welcomed family instead of lurking in the shadows.
Thousands of years old and all I wanted was for my family to love me. I never could decide if that was pathetic or the same want everyone else had.
But it never worked. If anything, my face was pressed further into the dirt. Anything I did was always compared against what I was. At the end of the day, no one wanted to look at me differently or consider that I had an odd thing called feelings. Even Vainya took a hundred years to win over initially, and I lived with him.
I returned my attention to the squirrel god. “You said Odin could use the book against me. How?”
He took a moment to scratch at an ear. “I’m not sure. I overheard him wanting to use it against you before moving too far away to hear any more. Perhaps if you found the book, you could find out for yourself.”
Can we take a moment to consider Odin sent him because you were taking too long? You are more likely to respond to saving others than being bullied or pushed around.
My features remained neutral at Silence’s commentary. He had a point, and with Ratatoskr not stating who he was indebted to, he’d likely be right. And it was right up the squirrel’s alley to pit two individuals against each other. Hells, he’d been doing it with the dragon and worm of Yggdrasil since their creation.
His bushy tail twitched behind him. “You don’t trust me.”
“Of course, I don’t. You’re not giving me any reason to trust you. I mean, there’s an irony that Odin wants me to fetch a book only I can touch so he can use it against me.” And it hurt. Depression battled against rage within my heart. Years of flawless—mandatory—service and all I got for it was my creator trying to do something against me. I pushed the emotions away with a force of will.
Ratatoskr’s tail swished back and forth until it blurred. “In darkness you walk, and I shall follow. Unless released from my bond, to you I bind myself.”
Magic danced in the air before I could blink. Every hair on my body stood on end while my heart thundered in my ear as the incantation the god casted cemented between us. “What have you done?”
“Earned your trust, I hope. I shall be your familiar until your death or the end of time.”
“Are you insan—”
Badb’s head popped from around the corner. “Have you burst into song yet?”
Ratatoskr jumped and scampered up my arm and into my hair.
“No,” I said, feeling the squirrel shuffle against my scalp, amongst the strands of my hair. “That’s in the next scene.”
The goddess pranced over and plopped herself onto my lap. “David’s future has changed, but only a little.” Badb placed her finger to my mouth before I could speak. “You will take him with you and if you want to know why, think about where you just came from. Besides, he needs to cut his teeth on something other than you if he is going to survive.” She bounced off my lap with a laugh. “I’ll let him know!”
We watched her frolic out of sight, and I leaned back into my chair. “What is happening to my life right now?”
Ratatoskr’s whi
skers tickled my neck. “Perhaps a question reserved for another time.”
“We’re not done with our conversation.”
“I’d be disappointed if we were.”
It didn’t take long for Badb to return with David. I waved at him and rose to my feet. “Hey, David. Meet Ratatoskr, the squirrel god of… gossip.”
“Uh.” His eyes shifted from me to the god before he reached out a hand to shake the offered paw of Ratatoskr. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise.”
David tightened his jacket about him. “Badb says I’m going with you...wherever you are going. What’s the plan?”
“Steal a book and prevent bad guys from unleashing horror onto the world.”
“Sounds easy enough. Where do we need to go to get this book? Super evil wizard lair? Walmart?”
I snorted. “We’re going to get it from the magi head capital in Glastonbury, England.” I looked to Anann. “Hey, can I borrow your phone?” I lifted mine for her to see the water dripping out of it. “It didn’t make the trip.”
“Sure.” Anann dug in her pocket and handed me her cellphone. “Who are you calling?”
“My operator.” I dialed the number and placed it to my ear. At the time it asked for my party’s extension I pressed in the code and listened to the mellow jazz music while on hold.
An emotionless female voice said, “Operator.”
“Hello, my dearest love, it is I, Ghost. I busted my phone and need serve papers sent to me.”
“Your client’s been requesting the job status from us since he couldn’t get ahold of you.” I listened to the click-clack of nails over keyboards. “I don’t see any pending serve papers with your name on it. Did you just commit the offense?”
“Surprisingly enough, I am going to give them to someone instead of receive them.”
“First time for everything. Name?”
“Who is in charge of Oaken Staff? Is it still Kevin?”
“No, they had a change of guard. The new Head Magi of Oaken Staff is Aaron Hardin.”
“Is he cool?”
“The report said he is Scottish. What is the offense?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “This is where it gets complicated. The job I have from Caldrin is tied to the offense, since he is still registered as a member of Oaken Staff. In my initial investigation, I found Patrick Green violated the Pendragon Agreement. He’s done experiments on unwilling mythics and his home of residence is full of their remains. I have a survivor recovering in my home who can testify when they’ve recovered enough to speak.”
“Why didn’t you call this in sooner?”
“Well, that’s where it gets more complicated.” I rubbed my forehead with a palm and rattled off everything from Yuki’s inquiry, the Queens in Seattle, to my own encounter with the Hunters. “They’re armed and dangerous. They have intel and money for equipment. The only reason they didn’t get me is because they thought I was something else. This needs to be escalated.”
“Master Draco will be furious you didn’t raise this with him before.”
A growl rumbled in my throat. “It’s not a secret that anything involving me and the Fae isn’t taken seriously. You and I both know that. Draco knows that. Everyone!”
A long moment of static filled my ear. “How long is your location good for?”
“An hour. I can head somewhere else if needed.”
“Remain where you are. We’ll send someone to drop off the papers. I see you are calling from a different number. Do you need a new phone?”
“Please.”
“And the charges for Aaron Hardin?”
I wetted my lips and thought. I needed serve papers for a legitimate reason to be in Oaken Staff, but I also wanted to alert the Head Magi to what was happening in his ranks.
“Using magi resources to develop harmful weapons against mythics. Not sure which article that falls under.”
“Three-point four dash six.” A long breath sounded on the other end. “Done. You are going to deliver it yourself?”
“That’s the plan.”
More clicky-clacky of keys on the other end of the line. “Done. I’ll send you the papers. What would you like me to tell the client?”
“How many times has he called for me?”
“As of an hour ago, sixteen times.”
I pressed my lips together. “Tell him it’s in the final phase. Make up some shit about how I hate giving out spoilers so he can wait and be surprised like everyone else.”
“Understood. Good hunting, Ghost.”
“Thanks.” I thumbed the phone’s end call icon and leaned back in the chair. “Well, that’s that. Once my stuff is here, we’ll head out.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Can this week get any worse?”
David nudged me with an elbow. “If you ask, it normally does.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
This Isn’t a Date
It was midday in Glastonbury when we arrived. Winter wasn’t tourist season, but when a city claimed to be the place where King Arthur was buried, tourists visit year-round.
The crisp air felt good against my skin as we walked along the street toward a park. A small group of kids played in their thick jackets, and I smiled at their joy.
I pulled David close and took several pictures of us and the park before settling on the bench to upload the picture to a burner social media account. I tagged every photo with Midsummernight_Peacock and settled in for a wait.
“Who is this friend of yours?” David asked.
Ratatoskr scrambled down my arm. “It’s not Goodfellow, is it?”
“It is,” I said, reaching back to scratch the top of his head as the god grumbled.
David asked, “What’s wrong with Goodfellow?”
I frequently question why he is better at putting on makeup than you.
“Nothing,” I said, giving Ratatoskr a pointed look. “But he’s a puck and prone to pranking people. Most of us develop a wariness when it comes to them.” I looked over, I cast my eyes toward the playground again, watching the kids play. “But pucks aren’t malicious. Just playful. They enjoy a good joke just like anyone else… though maybe a bit more than the typical person.”
A tall and lean man swaggered—no, wrong word—he sashayed into the park, dressed in a coal-gray wool jacket, cream slacks, and a vibrant blue scarf. Even in winter, he sported sun-tanned skin, a proud Roman nose, and tight curly hair clipped close to his skull. There was a kindness in the eyes that caught the attention of anyone he was speaking with, and he had full lips that smiled easily. When his eyes found me, I lifted a hand in greeting and his eyes brightened.
“My own cousin!” he said, walking toward me with arms wide for a hug. “I am so joyous to see thee!”
“Brushing up on your Shakespeare, I see.” I stood and gave him a hug. When we pulled away, I waved a hand to his appearance. “Marcus Agrippa? Really?”
“He’s dead and won’t mind if I borrow his face.” He leaned in and placed a kiss on each cheek. “Ghost, my darling, you look dreadful. What are they feeding you? Wait, don’t answer that.” His attention shifted to David, and his eyes danced. “Hello. Who is your cute friend?”
“Goodfellow, meet David.” I said, “David, this is Goodfellow. Or Peter Johnson. Or Rob. What are you calling yourself now?”
Goodfellow placed a hand to his chest. “Online I call myself the Midsummernight Peacock. I have twelve million followers and growing since I started six months ago! Speaking of…” He took out a cell phone and looped an arm around my shoulders. “Usie!” The puck took the picture and muttered, “Bestie in town. Pizza to follow,” while his thumbs flew over the screen. “There, sent.”
David held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“American!” Goodfellow said, grasping David’s hand and bringing it to his lips. “I do love exotic goods.”
David didn’t jerk his hand out of Goodfellow’s grasp, though I did note the twitch in his arm.
Goodfellow gasped, placing both hands to his cheeks in mock surprise. “With Ghost? You kinky man. I do like the kinky ones.” He grinned, then Goodfellow’s attention shifted to me. “Did you summon me all this way to show off your goods? You know I get jealous.”
I peeled David’s hand off my side. “No, I wanted to know if you were game to cause a bit of trouble with Oaken Staff.”
“Are you the one stealing that dreadful book?” He held up a finger to me when I opened my mouth. “Don’t deny it. I heard about it from Birchway, who heard about it from Cleverclove, who eavesdropped on Shadoweye and she—well, long story short, I get the gist of it. Odin wants a nasty book and is making you get it. So rude.”
I snorted. “Appreciated. You won’t get in trouble if you help me, will you? I know the Summer Court and the magi have an agreement.”
“Please, of course not,” Goodfellow said with a wave of his hand. “You’re my bestie and Odin treats you like something he’d scrape off his shoe. Even my Queen is narrowing her eyes at him these days.” He leaned closer and cupped his hands around his mouth. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
My lips twitched into a smile. “As long as you aren’t getting into hot water because of me. Here’s the deal, I’ll get you in under the following conditions: no fire, no harm, no permanent damage to the relics or the people inside. Self-esteem and ego bashing is fine.”
Goodfellow placed a finger to his lips. “What about the filing system?”
“Fair game.”
“Hexes? If they fall under your parameters of no permanent damage?”
My nose wrinkled. “Are we talking an extra head or ingrown toenails?”
“The latter, naturally. Those are far more annoying to deal with.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Sure, but keep the hexes to two weeks. How much time do you need to get ready?”
“For the basics? Mmm,” Goodfellow tapped his finger to his bottom lip. “A few hours, but if we have access overnight, we can do some very creative things! I’m going to need back up, though.”