by E. A. Copen
I whistled. “Nice. What’s that?”
“Do you like it? The material is electrum, an alloy of silver and gold. I call her Aman. The weapon is a khopesh, if you’re not familiar. I’m quite proficient with it.”
I cringed. It wasn’t something I wanted to fight, especially with my bare hands.
Anubis dropped the sword, took a step back and waved two fingers. Weight shifted in my hands where suddenly there had been nothing. The staff Titania had given me appeared, emitting a hellish red glow. With another wave of his hand, Anubis transformed the staff into a polearm with a curved blade at the end. The other side of the staff had a sharpened spike for stabbing. A scythe.
“It’s not electrum,” he said apologetically. “I’ve styled it after a medieval weapon from your world that claimed many lives throughout Europe. I hope it will do.”
I swung it a few times. While it didn’t exactly look like the grim reaper’s scythe in all the art I’d seen, it came pretty damn close. It gave me the advantage of reach over his khopesh, but I also didn’t know how to use the damn thing. It looked simple enough. Stab with the spike, hook with the blade. Good for decapitation and probably against mounted troops, though I hoped he didn’t plan on bringing horses into this.
“Nice work,” I said.
Anubis nodded once, accepting the compliment. “The terms are simple. Defeat me, and I return your magic to you. You will leave unharmed as you intended. Should I be the victor, however, you will cross the bridge with me into the After. Do you accept?”
I planted the butt spike in the dirt. “I accept.”
“Very well.” He brought the sword up and made a few quick movements with it.
I gulped and readied my borrowed scythe. He was good. More than that, he was a god who’d had nothing to do with his time over the last millennia other than hone his skills and weigh human hearts. There was no doubt in my mind that Anubis’ picture was in the dictionary next to the definition for deadly. I couldn’t beat him, not even with the superior reach the scythe provided.
I would have one chance, and that chance didn’t rely on the weapon at all.
He swung the khopesh first, moving with blinding speed and aiming for the obvious target: my left hand. Sound reasoning. If I couldn’t hold my weapon, I couldn’t fight. I jerked the weapon and my hand out of the way, sliding back and to the side to let him pass. In a normal fight against an ordinary human, that’d be my strategy. Move him, make him chase me. Wear him out. But this was Anubis, and I was in his realm. I doubted he’d break a sweat. I’d wear out long before he did.
I tried for a slice into his ribs as he turned, but he hooked the scythe blade with his khopesh and moved it aside, redirecting the strike and jerking me off balance. Like a deadly ballet dancer, he spun toward me and inside my reach. The sword came at me from a downward angle to slice into my chin. I avoided it only by staggering back. He cut close enough that I felt the air split.
My feet carried me back a few more clumsy steps, hoping to get outside his reach and put him at a more effective distance to make use of my weapon’s strengths, but Anubis was too quick. He followed me, keeping the space between us tight enough that I couldn’t maneuver.
In a desperate move, I turned the scythe and stabbed at him with the butt spike, forcing him to dodge. He went to the left and down, slicing at my ribs at the same time. The blade bit into my side and sank a quarter inch before he jerked it out and danced away. It felt like being stabbed by ice. My insides seized, and I drew a sharp, painful breath. Dammit, I was dead and still getting stabbed.
“There is still time for you to concede,” Anubis offered, holding the khopesh in front of his face. “I don’t want to cause you needless pain.”
“What? This?” I touched my side and brought it away bloody. My whole side was wet to my thigh. I grimaced and held the scythe up, the wooden section across my body and ready to block. “This is nothing. Let’s go.”
He nodded and came at me again.
Every time Anubis cut me after that, he didn’t stop to offer me a way out. Apparently, it was a one-time offer. The khopesh was a nasty sword with lots of sharp edges that bit into my arms and chest, leaving me bloody. I got him good with the scythe, leaving a line of dripping crimson on his stomach, but that was as close as I came. With all the blood loss, I was wearing down quickly, and he was gaining confidence. His movements didn’t slow down, but they became wider, a little sloppy. I’d never met a god that wasn’t at least a little arrogant and Anubis was no exception. When he knew he was winning, he reveled in it and forgot the fight included more than just our blades. Now, if I could just get him to stand still for a second.
He thrust the khopesh forward as if to stab me and I had an idea that was both genius and terrible. The thrust was aimed at my stomach. He was trying to bleed me rather than give me a quick ending. I could block it by moving the scythe one way or the other, sweeping the khopesh aside. Instead, I shifted the scythe to the right and gave him the clear shot he wanted.
Anubis realized his mistake a fraction of a second before the blade went in, too late to stop it.
The khopesh sank into my gut about an inch below the sternum, the blade burying itself about two inches in. Air exploded from my lungs in an icy breath. I pushed through the pain, flexed my fingers, and activated my Soul Vision. Anubis’ golden soul pulsed with a bright light in his chest, almost exactly where he had stabbed me. I reached for it.
Frantically, he tried to pull the khopesh free, but it had caught on something inside.
I thrust my hand into Anubis and closed my fingers around his soul.
Lightning flashed through his body, lighting up the pathways his soul filled. It struck my hand and traveled into my body, filling every inch of me with white-hot pain. With a scream, I clutched the soul and yanked it from Anubis’ chest. The lightning danced along the surface of the soul, electric blue coursing over a golden sun.
Anubis stared at his soul removed from his body. “Congratulations, Horseman. Use your power well.”
A heavy wind swept through the valley just as he dissolved to ash and carried him into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I came around frozen half to death and in the middle of vomiting my guts up. My brain felt like I’d snorted a whole colony of fire ants, and my guts were clenched in panic. The pleasant, gentle high from before was completely gone, leaving my body wracked in pain and my brain addled with terror. The panic collapsed in on itself, turning into violent shaking, more vomiting, and me trying to gulp down a breath in between. Ice and fire marched through my veins at the same time.
But I had my magic back. I could feel it flowing through my body like an electric current.
Nate rubbed my back and offered me a baby wipe. “Take your time. You’re okay.”
I sat back and gave up trying to discern which nasty side effects were from the dose of Narcan he’d just given me, and which were from the ghoul virus. “Do me a favor, Nate. Next time I tell you to help me with any of my harebrained schemes, tell me to buzz off.”
“I tried, you idiot. You wouldn’t listen.” His eyes traveled lower, to my side. They widened. “You’re bleeding.”
I tugged the tunic up and winced at the deep gash in my side. The skin was working on repairing itself, but the skin that grew in was a thin, translucent gray with bright blue veins. Ghoul skin. I checked my sternum and found the hole there sealed the same way. Everywhere Anubis had injured me, a scar was left behind, and ghoul skin grew over it.
“That can’t be good,” Nate said.
“What time is it?”
He checked his watch. “About three in the afternoon.”
According to The Baron’s timeline, I had less than two hours remaining before irreversible damage was done. I had my powers back now, which meant I could slip into Faerie, be there to save Odette if needed, and figure out what to do about Kellas. I just had to get up and get back through the portal.
I extended a ha
nd to Athdar who took it. “Time for us to go back to Faerie while the getting is still good.”
Between Athdar and Nate, we’d made it back to the edge of the parking lot when a black limousine pulled into the funeral home driveway and slowed to a stop. I didn’t think much of it at first because sometimes limos are used in place of a hearse during a funeral procession. It didn’t hit me that something was off until the driver got out, opened the door and a man in a midnight black tailored suit stepped out. He was of medium height, medium build with brown hair and brown eyes. An all-around unremarkable guy except for the expensive cufflinks, limo, and the fact that he was the devil himself: Lucifer Morningstar.
Morningstar paused to adjust his cuffs before taking the hand of the most beautiful woman in the city. Where he was boring, she was striking with the light clay-colored skin, dark hair and flowing curves in all the right places. Under the right light, and with the right makeup she could’ve passed as Native American, Asian, or Middle Eastern. The lacy black dress came halfway down her thighs hugging her body in ways that were unarguably inappropriate to pay respects to the deceased. He’d brought his daughter, Khaleda. Lovely.
I put on the brakes as soon as I saw them start toward us and pulled both Nate and Athdar back toward the cemetery. “Time to find another gate.”
“But this one is right here,” Athdar protested.
“This one just became a nope gate.” I let go of them and whirled around, but it was too much movement after the fun cocktail of drugs I’d just had, and I fell. I tried to get up, but my arms were too weak. Nate and Athdar were too busy trying to figure out what had happened to intervene.
A pair of polished dress shoes stopped in front of my face. “It must be strenuous, being so incompetent.”
Hello to you too, jackass. I pushed myself up partway. “For your information, I’m an accomplished knight.”
“Substitute knight.” Khaleda crossed her arms. “How long do you think he has? Two hours? Three? He’s looking awfully gray and lost most of his hair already.”
Nate grabbed me under the arms and hauled me up the rest of the way. “Laz, who are these people?”
“A man of wealth and taste and his evil offspring,” I replied. “Bad news all around.”
Morningstar waved two fingers, and a stainless steel etched business card appeared between them. He held it out to Nate. “I am a purveyor of desires and dreams. For a nominal fee, you could have that promotion you’ve always wanted, or a college fund for your little one.”
I swiped the card before Nate could even think about it, making sure not to touch Morningstar. Khaleda had been useful at least, warning me that an Archon’s powers worked through touch. “Nate’s not interested in trading his soul for cash. He already learned the hard way it’s tough to get your stuff out of hock.”
Nate went rigid. He must’ve just figured out who Morningstar was. I wasn’t sure what the Jewish devil was like, but judging by Nate’s reaction, he wasn’t any better than the Southern Baptist devil I’d grown up with.
“What do you want?” I growled at Morningstar. “And make it quick. I’m running on borrowed time as it is.”
“We know you went to see Serkan,” Khaleda said.
Morningstar gave her an irritated look that she didn’t seem to notice. Apparently, daddy dearest didn’t like to be talked over. “No doubt, he informed you of the same information we’ve recovered. Your ailment can be cured.”
Khaleda smirked. “It’ll be quick. Less than five minutes. Trust me. I’ve got experience.”
“It was way longer than five minutes,” I snapped. “And the answer is no.”
Morningstar rolled his eyes and mimicked his daughter’s crossed arms. “Come now, Lazarus. This is childish and foolish. You’re being handed a cure and a method to attain it that, by your own admission, is not at all unpleasant. Why resist it?”
“Because I’ve got standards, and Bimbo of the Week here doesn’t make the cut.”
Her lip twitched. “Let me use the potion on him. I don’t need him conscious.”
Morningstar waved a hand dismissively, and Khaleda bowed her head, stepping back. The glare she cast at me said it wasn’t over. I shot her one back that said, “Bring it, bitch.”
“You’d rather let yourself change?” Morningstar asked.
“I’ll die first.”
“I will kill you,” Athdar offered.
Great. Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy. “Look, Morningstar. I don’t need your help. I don’t want it, and you can’t make me accept it. I don’t owe you shit until February. If I see you before then—or her—I’ll kill both of you.”
Red flashed in Morningstar’s eyes. “Bold words for a man who can’t stand without assistance.”
I couldn’t think of a decent come back, so I flipped him off.
He sighed. “Very well. Come Khaleda. It’s time to move to plan C.” Morningstar and Khaleda sidestepped me.
“Hey,” I called after them. “What happened to plan A and B?”
He didn’t answer me. The devil and his daughter just got in their limo and left, acting like they hadn’t even heard me.
***
Summer was in chaos when we returned. Knights and guards jogged around the garden in different directions, climbing stairs to stand on the roof of the palace overlooking the land beyond. A couple shoved in front of us, rolling a wooden barrel. A horse let out a terrified scream in one corner while two armored men worked to calm it.
I grabbed the next armored fae that jogged by me. “What the hell’s going on?”
He blinked at me from under a shining silver helm. “It’s Shadow. The army’s at the gates, led by Kellas, sir.”
I ground out a curse. “Where’s Titania?” He shook his head, so I shook him. “Where is she?”
“Last I heard, she’d locked herself in the north tower and won’t receive visitors. She…” He swallowed and glanced at Athdar before lowering his head. “Princess Odette is gone.”
Ice water trickled down my spine and pooled in my chest. No. Maybe it wasn’t too late. “How long ago? How?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. Useless.
I let him go and stormed past him, running for the infirmary. Soldiers moved all around the garden, carrying barrels, spears, arrows, hot cauldrons full of bubbling black tar. They seemed to be going in all directions without a clear goal.
If Titania wasn’t around, and William was injured, that left no one to command the troops. Kellas had been smarter than I gave him credit for, the little cat bastard. Shadow could never take Summer in a head-on battle. I’d seen their troops. They weren’t near as well outfitted and didn’t have as many men. Take out the commanders and destroy the morale though and it left the army confused with no clear chain of command. Faerie was a place unused to change, and Kellas had changed the rules on them.
I had to get Odette back and convince Titania to fight them.
The infirmary door slammed open, nearly knocking over another nurse. I didn’t stop to apologize but rushed on through to the tiny medical cubicle where I’d last seen Odette. They’d put up another sheet. I ripped it aside and stumbled in.
The air smelled like blood. The sheets were covered in it, deep dark red that was almost black. I thought it was paint because it didn’t seem to me that there was that much blood inside of a person. Odette lay among all the bloodstained sheets, her body gray, lips and fingertips slate blue. Her forehead was wet with perspiration as if she’d just fallen asleep in a hot room.
I took a shaky step into the room.
Beth looked up from where she sat in the corner. She had something small and red all wrapped up inside an ugly, gauzy blanket. Beth’s face was red and splotchy too, matching the reddish splotches on the gauze blanket. Blood. Those were bloodstains on the blanket, and Beth’s hands were stained red with it. Odette’s blood.
“It was so fast,” Beth said, sniffling and looking away from Odette’s still body. “All the
books I read said it would take longer. Ten good pushes in twenty minutes. So easy. I thought everything would be fine. Maybe Willow was wrong. Odette’s strong. She’ll pull through.”
I said nothing.
Beth choked on a sob. “And then she started bleeding. It was so much. So fast. She was just…gone.”
“No.” I went around the other side of the bed and started peeling blankets away from Odette, ignoring the cool, sticky, waxy feeling of her skin. “We need to get her to Earth. I can save her.”
“Laz…”
“I have my magic back,” I continued. “It won’t work here, but if we get her through the portal, I can do it right on the other side. She’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
Beth rose and gripped my shoulder, squeezing hard. “It’s been an hour. She’s not coming back.”
My throat grew tight. The Kiss of Life was a powerful spell, but like every other powerful magic, certain conditions had to be met. Wait too long after death, and it wouldn’t work. I had no idea how long too long was. No one did. There was a chance it could still work. I could fix everything.
But going back through the portal would start the timer for me again. I’d be weak and vulnerable. I might even change if my time ran out. Leaving would mean letting Shadow invade Summer while I was gone, since I knew Titania was in no shape to mount a defense.
So, there I was, faced with the classic moral dilemma. Go to Earth, potentially sacrifice myself and all of the Summer Court to save the mother of my child, or risk waiting until the battle was done and hope Faerie cooperated. Maybe it wouldn’t be too long.
Who was I kidding? If I waited, I’d have no chance. As it was, I might not have much of one.
I touched the side of Odette’s face. Even in death, she was beautiful. She looked like a sweatier version of Snow White.
Beth cleared her throat and held the bundle out to me.