by Nazri Noor
But the others, the Lorica people – I didn’t envy them. They had business to attend to.
“There’s five of them now,” Herald said, nudging his shoulder into mine, indicating the group that the Lorica was speaking to. “Check it out.”
They were representatives from what I had first assumed was the French version of the Lorica, until Herald had quickly corrected me. He pointed out that it was, in fact, a number of high-ranking sorcerers from the Hooded Council. That wasn’t local at all. It was the Lorica’s equivalent that governed magic across the entirety of Europe.
“The big boys,” Herald whispered. “Well, and girls.”
The Hooded Council’s people had appeared on the hill shortly after we fled town, demanding to speak to the Scions in our group. How the Council knew that we were American – and how they even knew that we had members of the Lorica among us, for that matter – was something I didn’t stay to question.
I only caught the name of one of them as I very quickly separated from the pack, the stern one with silver hair in a bun so tight that I was convinced it was the only thing keeping the skin clinging to her skull. Frau Helena dressed and behaved like a schoolmarm, wearing the terrifying aura of a woman three times her age, but her appearance was youthful, almost preternaturally so. It was like looking at the German version of the Lorica’s very own Odessa, only somehow more intimidating.
She barked her name in introduction as I walked away from the huddle of magical supremacy and governance, both out of an instinctive dislike of authority and the shock of seeing five people materialize just feet away from me. But even now, with me and Herald sitting so far from their group, Frau Helena’s eyes kept coming back to me, boring into me with hardness and curiosity. She knew exactly who I was. I was sure of it.
“I don’t think we’re in any kind of trouble,” Herald said. “Funny how it’s the humans who are more reasonable about all this Eldest business. But to be fair, the Lorica sent out warnings about Agatha Black’s return weeks ago. The Hooded Council knows we’re clean.”
I raised a finger. “As long as they don’t know the whole business about Durandal.”
“Correct,” Herald said. He nodded at the group again, and I turned to look just as Frau Helena and her four cohorts vanished in brief flashes of white light. “The Council took a while grilling Royce, but it looks like Bastion gave them the answers they wanted. Either two Scions are better than one, or Bastion really is more charming and talented than I ever guessed.”
I scratched the back of my neck. “I mean, I don’t know. I guess he’s okay.”
Herald’s silence had me curious. I turned to look him in the face, wondering why he’d gone so quiet. Herald stared blankly back.
“It’s okay to have a crush on him, you know.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and my blood shot straight up to my face. All the stammering and shaking of my limbs and general head and face area made it impossible for me to blubber up a passable excuse. Instead, a kind of nervous, stuttering cackle erupted from my throat, a more incriminating sound than any series of words I could have possibly strung together.
Herald tilted his head, the light striking his glasses in an infuriating sort of way, concealing the exact expression in his eyes from me. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” I half-said, half-giggled. “Just, you know, you’re being silly and everything. Why would I have a crush on him? That’s silly, and gross, and you and I are together, and – ”
“Dust,” Herald said. “Stop. I wear glasses, sure, but I can see. Bastion’s got a weird thing for you. I know that he’s hot.” He adjusted his glasses just then, looking pointedly across the grass at Bastion. “Very hot.”
My mouth hung half-open as my mind whirled for a thousand thousand possible things to say. “What does that even mean?”
Herald cleared his throat, nudging his glasses back up his face. “It means that it’s okay for you to look. Maybe flirt, a little. I don’t mind.” He cleared his throat again, and I wasn’t really sure if I could tell because of the dimness, but I thought I caught him blushing a little. “Maybe I find it a little exciting, even.”
All the breath left my body right then. “You what?” I didn’t deserve Herald. I didn’t deserve him at all. It was one thing for him to be such a supportive partner, but this was him basically telling me that he trusted me implicitly – that he had always trusted me. My heart bloomed right then, as if I needed reason to love him even more. But as I opened my mouth to say something, the night went blinding white.
I blinked hard, twice, thrice, just as the tremble of thunder rattled my bones. My fingers dug into the earth, each hand already hungry to conjure either flame or darkness, my eyes on the lookout for any sign of Agatha Black’s return. But as I scanned the hill, I recalled that saying, about how criminals would be stupid to ever return to the scene of the crime. Lightning, in that sense, didn’t strike twice.
But this was a different kind of lightning. On the peak of the hill were two men, each tall and muscular, their powerful builds, deep skin, and majestic beards so similar and familiar that they could have been brothers.
That’s because they were. One wielded a trident, and the other clasped a crackling bolt of lightning.
“Dustin Graves,” said Zeus, father of the ancient Greek pantheon. “We need to talk.”
Chapter 18
The thing about gods – about entities, in general – was that I was sick of them. But there was a second prejudice I held about the Greek gods, the male ones, specifically, and it felt vindicating to learn that I was entirely correct. They really did have very little interest in covering up their damn bodies.
Apollo and Dionysus wore button-down shirts, but didn’t seem to know how to work the buttons in the first place, constantly exposing their chests and stomachs. Zeus, it seemed, spent most of his time away from modern mankind, and opted for a simple white loincloth that somehow hovered protectively over his dangly bits, like a sentient white cloud. Poseidon, on the other hand, presumably spent all his time in the water, and therefore had no use for full coverage. He stood there, one hand on his hip, the other on his trident, the very picture of a Greek statue, with all his Grecian goodies fully on display.
I frowned at the two of them, deciding to address Poseidon first. “That thing with Belphegor,” I said, referring to how she’d boiled the damn ocean. “You look perfectly fine. Um. Down there, that is.”
Poseidon straightened his back, then sniffed. “I got better.”
“Sure did,” Herald said, whistling. Unlike me, he was staring pointedly at the parts of Poseidon that generally remained underwater.
I stepped forward, sucking air into my lungs, the way a blowfish would do to look bigger, stronger, more threatening. I even walked with my feet splayed apart, my arms spread out wider than normal. I had to hope it would work.
“You wanted to talk,” I said, this time addressing Zeus. “Then talk.”
Behind me, the others stirred, gathering and whispering among themselves. Whatever these two gods had in store – two of the most powerful of their pantheon, let’s not forget – I just hoped that my friends had something worthy to counter with. Or to protect me, at the very least.
“Very well,” he said. Zeus lifted a finger, pointing at me directly in the face. I did my best not to flinch, knowing what I did of him. That finger could very well zap my face right off. My poor, handsome face. “Dustin Graves. Do you deny that you were recently in contact with a member of the Great Beasts?”
I shook my head, exasperated. “Look. You already know that I spoke to Scylla the other day, and I already explained to your brother here that – ”
“Dustin Graves,” Zeus boomed, his voice echoing across the hilltop. “Do you deny that you met with Belphegor, demon prince of sloth, and conspired to bring harm upon my brother, Poseidon?”
I threw my hands up. “That was a misunderstanding. It was just supposed to be us and
Belphegor. Poseidon showing up was a whole different sort of mess, it – ”
“That proves it,” Poseidon said, standing taller, glowering at me accusingly. “What other evidence do we need, brother? This puny mortal thinks to conspire with the darkest forces of this world – not only of this world, but of this universe as well. The Old Ones. It’s well known that he is steered by their power, this so-called Dark Room that dwells in his heart.”
“That is enough for me,” Zeus said. “Dustin Graves. For the crime of consorting with the darkest powers on this known earth, I sentence you to die.”
He pointed one thick finger at my chest, a little white spark tumbling from the end of it. I called on the Dark Room, prepared to escape, furious that I had to run for my life yet again. A sheet of lightning lanced from Zeus’s finger –
But a silver streak blurred just in front of me. Sterling was fast, but I never knew he could be faster than even a shard of divine lightning. A blinding flash burst only inches away from us: Zeus’s bolt, colliding with the ornate katana Sterling brandished in both hands.
“Impossible,” Zeus snarled.
“Clearly not,” Sterling called out, his sword hissing and issuing sparks as it absorbed the last of Zeus’s lightning. “If you want to get to Dustin, you’ll have to go through me, first.” Then he nudged his head over his shoulder, indicating the rest of Team Borica. “You’ll have to go through all of us.”
Poseidon hoisted up his trident, baring his teeth. “You dare defy the gods, undead wretch?”
“Justice will be dealt, brother,” Zeus shouted. “One way or another.”
“Enough about justice,” I cried out, pushing past Sterling. “Enough of this wild goddamn goose chase.”
“Dust,” Sterling hissed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“This doesn’t end unless they see,” I said. “This doesn’t end unless they understand. For so long now my friends and I have worked to stop the scourge of the Eldest, and now their priestess threatens the very fabric of existence itself. She could wipe out the universe, but you gods are more concerned with who’s working with what. With politics, allegiances, all this shit that isn’t going to matter when the Old Ones show up and destroy us all.”
“Dust,” Sterling hissed again, his tone thick with warning.
“This one bleats like a soft little sheep, brother,” Poseidon said.
“Indeed, it does,” Zeus replied. “I wonder how many more charges of lightning that little sword of theirs can contain.”
That little sword, he said, which meant he didn’t recognize that it was a gift to Sterling from Susanoo. I didn’t want any more gods getting involved, so that was good. The last thing I wanted was Izanami rocking up on us to pull off another crazy act of betrayal. Death gods were never any fun. And that was when I remembered. Zeus and Poseidon had another brother, didn’t they? Hades? Shit. I finally acknowledged the little voice in the back of my head: tread lightly. Be careful.
I did the voice one better. I tried to be pragmatic. I flung my hand up at the sky, pointing.
Zeus followed the tip of my finger, then guffawed. “Well, little sheep? Is this gesture of yours meant to terrify us? What demon magic are you calling down from the sky?”
“No,” I said, my voice even and still, the rage whittled out of it. “Look at the stars. Look how red they are, all thirteen of them.”
And so they did, and when Poseidon’s face fell, when Zeus knitted his eyebrows in a mix of confusion and fury, I knew I had them.
“What sorcery is this?” Zeus muttered.
“No sorcery,” I said. “The priestess of the Old Ones is a powerful witch. She’s split herself into thirteen pieces. One of those pieces attacked a nearby village tonight, burned people to death. They were cremated in their own homes. They were sacrifices. That was when the first red star appeared in the sky.” I looked up, following my own finger, my heart thumping as I saw the crimson stars. “What about the other twelve? Who else has died tonight?”
Zeus looked at me, his face a storm, then back up at the stars once more.
“Something big is coming,” I said. “And we have to work together to stop it. Demon princes, the Great Beasts, humanity, Olympus – none of it matters if the Old Ones return to consume us all.”
The two gods looked at each other, then back at me in silence. A few uncomfortable seconds passed before Zeus spoke again.
“We’ll take this into consideration, mortal. But remember: we’re always watching.”
I glared back into Zeus’s eyes. How could I ever forget?
In another flash of lightning, the gods vanished. There was a rush of activity from the others. It felt as if we could finally breathe, like everyone was watching a bomb being defused by an idiot, until the bomb itself decided to walk away.
I turned to Sterling and clapped him on the back. “So. You do care about me, after all.”
He shrugged my hand off, and I flinched as if I’d been struck. He sheathed his katana, staring at me out of the corner of his eye as he walked away.
“You’re not going to die under my watch,” he growled. “But if it comes down to a ritual and a sacrifice, then that’s your call.” Then I heard, as he brought a cigarette to his lips, one last word: “Idiot.”
Herald bumped his shoulder into me, nodding questioningly in Sterling’s direction. “What the hell was that all about?”
I shook my head quickly, hoping he hadn’t heard. “It’s nothing,” I said. “Nothing at all.”
Chapter 19
“You totally lucked out,” Herald said. “I don’t think Sterling even knew that Susanoo’s katana could absorb lightning.”
I sat on his couch, thoroughly exhausted from the events of the night, and from shadowstepping the both of us home – after Royce teleported us back to Californian soil, of course. Herald’s apartment felt so familiar. The citrus smell of his oil diffuser, the oddly rough yet comfortable texture of his fluffy gray couch.
“So you mean Sterling just took a chance?” I didn’t say anything else, but it made the act of putting himself between me and a god-bullet that much more important.
“Something that once belonged to a god can lose its power, the longer it stays away from the deity in question,” Herald said. “You remember how Vanitas fell dormant after we separated him from you the first time? It’s the way attunement works with artifacts, whether their owners are human, or divine. Or anything else, really.”
I chewed on my lip, my heart sinking. “But we need a god’s sword for the ritual as well. I thought – well, I guess I thought that we could count on Susanoo’s katana for that bit.”
Herald shook his head. “No can do. It’s lost some of his power. We need a relic at full strength, totally charged by a god’s touch, whether it’s lent willingly – or whether we take it ourselves.”
I leaned back farther into the couch, sighing as it swallowed me up, rubbing my eyes through my eyelids. “We’ll think of something,” I said. “We always do. Carver will know.”
“We will,” Herald said, squeezing one strong hand on my shoulder, giving me a tight smile. “I’m popping in for a shower, okay? I smell like death. And you go in next. No dirty boys in my bed.”
I rolled my eyes, then chuckled. “Got it, Mom. I’ve stayed over enough times to know the house rules.”
He peeled his shirt over his head, throwing it towards his laundry basket, flexing and preening just a little for my benefit. “I’m heading in now,” he said, his chest puffed out comically. “No peeking.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
In less than a minute the sound of Herald’s shower started up. I really wanted a shower badly as well – I could almost feel the warm water against my muscles. I headed over to the sink, tired, but still wanting to make myself useful. We ate some Chinese leftovers from out of his fridge, but still had to wash up the few dishes we used for dinner, because as Herald chidingly explained, “We’re not animals.”
Then a hand reached out through the water.
I dropped both the dish and the sponge back in the sink, giving off a loud yelp as I staggered away. And damn the laws physics to all hell, because another hand followed the first out of the water, until it had dragged arms and limbs and an entire body out of the sink, and therefore the drain. Hecate padded lightly onto the floor, squeezing water out of her hair and her midnight robe.
My hand went over my heart to feel for the manic thump of terror. I shook my head at her. “You’ve got to stop doing this. And how do you pull it off without getting a ton of leftover noodles all over you?”
Hecate tittered, waving a hand across her body, trailing green energy along its expanse. Her clothes immediately went dry, her scraggly hair draining of moisture and transforming into tresses imbued with as much style and volume as something straight out of a salon.
“It’s simple magic, fleshling,” she said. “As for climbing out of the water – we have been enjoying a good many horror movies that you mortals so like to make. Especially ones from Japan. Those are our favorites.”
I glanced up and down her body, at her exceptionally long locks of black hair, her shroud-like gown. Hecate always looked like she’d be at home at a Halloween party anyway, or one of those haunted houses. The horror movies made sense.
“I think you need to cut down on the shock value, Hecate. I don’t even watch horror movies myself. Some people like them for the adrenaline rush, but I’m not some people.”
Hecate smiled, her face blurring in and out of existence as her features shifted. “You are certainly not ‘some people,’ fleshling. That is indeed correct. We must commend you for accomplishing so much in so little time. Three swords already: Vanitas, Durandal, and Duskfang. Whenever Belphegor deems it time to present the hell-blade to you, of course.”