Advent: Book 3 of The Summer Omega Series (Summer Omrga)

by JK Cooper

  The wisps had swarmed out of an open doorway after their two guards had set up on both sides of it and tapped their spears to the ground. Athena had barely glimpsed the strange carvings in the wooden doors before being attacked. At least dear daddy warned me a few seconds before, or I would have sliced one open.

  That would not be advisable, Ptyas said.

  Why?

  They are made of contained sentient fire. It would be like slicing open a live bomb.

  Athena frowned as the last wisp finally pulled away from her. Okay, that does sound unpleasant. Is it terrible that I want to try more now?

  Ptyas laughed. Yes, but it is very you.

  “You may enter now.” One of the guards pointed her staff at the doorway, her voice giving away her gender at last.

  Athena let Mareus lead the way through, her eyes on the carvings that showed mischief, murder, and a mix of many other acts Athena wasn’t completely comfortable with. Some she couldn’t even place. What is this?

  Ptyas sighed. The Fae of Unseely Court lean toward the more dangerous, less benevolent, and areobscene elements of humanity. They integrated the worst of your kind into themselves.

  Athena bristled. I’m not human. I’m Lycan.

  You are the unexpected result of a human and Immortal Wolf becoming one. We were unsure the mix would be capable of offspring. You are still more human than you pretend to be. Your thoughts and actions give you away.

  Athena took another deep breath and calmed herself. She was beginning to understand how pointless arguing with the wolf could be. It’s like arguing with myself.

  Only I’m more enlightened. There was laughter in his voice.

  Athena chuckled. Shhh, something’s happening.

  The wisps spun around the large, dark cavern ahead, their lights illuminating statues making grotesque faces and gestures. They then shot upward, punching into the crystalline ceiling. She let her eyes shift, so she could see into the darkness, but all she saw was a gray haze where the shadows had been.

  Magic.

  The wisps blazed brighter. Athena covered her eyes as the burst of light blinded her. She blinked as her eyes recovered, shifting them back to human. She glared at the wisps above her, but her anger subsided as she realized the ceiling was not crystal, but water, rippling where the wisps had entered and refracting their light into a blue-white glow that filled the entire cavern, revealing there were no statues.

  She was surrounded by Fae, their faces no longer grotesque when illuminated, but each one staring at her and her father with disdain, like perfect, hateful CGI visages.

  One sat on a throne made of red glass, maybe ruby, glaring at them. “How dare you come here uninvited!”

  Athena could smell blood as his words reached her, as if carried with the sound. She gasped when the realization came. The throne wasn’t glass or a precious stone. It flowed under the Fae, trapped in the shape of a regal seat, but made entirely of fresh blood.

  Athena swallowed the retort that wanted to bubble out of her.

  Someone’s learning.

  Shut it, Ptyas.

  Shelby looked out the windshield as they drove down the winding road into Salt Lake. “Huh, it’s grayer than I imagined.”

  Genn leaned against the back of the seat beside her. “Inversion. The valley traps the air, and all the fires haven’t been helping. It’s prettier after a storm blows the trapped air out.”

  “Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” She glanced at where Bryanne was resting across the aisle. “You two figure out where we’re going? The demon is closing in fast.”

  “Bryanne thinks she’s narrowed it down, but I’m not so sure.”

  “Where the palace meets brine?” Shelby repeated the words she’d heard them discussing for days. “Is there a palace in the city?”

  Genn nodded. “Two, of a sort. There is a convention center that has Bryanne’s vote.”

  “Why?” Shelby could feel the Feral growing distant. They had to wait in the forested areas near the foothills where they wouldn’t cause a panic and where food was still plentiful. She could also feel the void moving toward them from the opposite direction.

  “It’s actually called the Salt Palace.”

  “That’s convenient.” Shelby brought a gauntlet into existence on one hand, watching the magic flicker. “We could use convenient.”

  Genn gave a half smile. “Not convenient enough for my liking. It just doesn’t fit the Isluxua’s description. It’s nowhere near any brine, despite the name. And it’s not really a palace.”

  The gauntlet vanished at a thought from Shelby. “What’s the other one?”

  “The Mormons built a temple. It’s practically a palace.” Genn pulled out her phone and showed Shelby a few pictures of the building.

  “Wow! And that has your vote?”

  Genn put her phone away. “No. It’s just a few blocks from the Salt Palace, still not anywhere close to the lake.”

  Shelby felt Kale come up behind her. She held out a hand, and he took it, leaning into the seat to stare outside. “You hear all that?”

  He nodded. “So, where are you thinking this palace is, Mom?”

  Genn folded her arms. “I don’t really want to disagree with Bryanne, especially after what she’s been through today.”

  “Bryanne isn’t a child. She can speak for herself, in third person even.” The Bandruí lifted her head, humming to herself. She waved away Genn’s hand. “I’m fine, as long as I don’t touch any magic.” She hummed a bit more as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “And I woke up with an old Pixies’ song in my head. I change my vote.”

  “To what?” Kale asked, a hint of impatience in his tone.

  Genn answered, as patient as ever. “There’s an old event center right on the lake, called Salt Air. It was built to look like a palace. What made you change your mind?”

  Bryanne sang a snatch of lyrics. “The song, of course. I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection earlier.”

  Genn laughed. “What? How?”

  “It isn’t their most popular song, but it was written shortly after the Pixies visited Salt Lake. It’s a reference to Salt Air and how sad its clones have been when compared to the original. I saw the second one in person. It wasn’t as beautiful as the first, and it’s gone downhill since.”

  Shelby bit her lip, curious. “What’s the song?”

  “Palace on the Brine.”

  Shelby felt her mouth drop open.

  Bryanne grinned. “Yeah, that’s why I’m changing my vote. That’s just the type of weird coincidence those Mystics seem to like.”

  Kale chuckled. “I’m so telling Iorna you said that.” He made a disgusted face as they descended into the gray air, the scents of smoke sneaking in with it. “Salt Air it is. Let’s hope you’re both right and there’s a Fae waiting for us, key at the ready.”

  Shelby squeezed his hand. “When has it been that simple?”

  Bubba pulled the tab. The Vienna sausage container opened with a pleasant crack and hiss. “It ain’t momma’s fried chicken, but it will do. One for you.” He held a sausage in front of his dog who snatched it up and wolfed it down. “Ya gotta chew, Oscar. You’re not a Playa Killa, like me, so take it easy.” Bubba pulled out another sausage. “Like this, and one for me.” He chewed it with vigor.

  “You’re sweet with him,” Amanda spoke from behind him where she leaned over the seat.

  “Like I got a choice? Look at that face. Like honey.” Oscar put a paw on Bubba’s wrist and eyed the container. “Knows what he likes too, don’t he?”

  “Always a good thing to know. I think I like–” Chelsea tugged on her sleeve, and Amanda pushed the hand away, but didn’t finish her thought. “Your first pet?”

  “Momma’s allergic, or least faking allergic so I don’t get no idea bout bringing home strays.” Bubba grinned up at her while Oscar snatched another sausage from his hand. “Cept her allergies always acted up after Kale came by, so maybe
not faking. Been bringing home strays for years without her knowing.”

  Amanda giggled. “True.” She reached into a pocket and slid something toward him over the top of the seat.

  He finished the last sausage and took it. “Red Vines?”

  She nodded. “I got them at a gas station a few days back. Road trip food. Thought you could use the calories in a more productive way than I ever could.”

  Bubba tried to hand it back. “You must’ve used the last of your cash, and there ain’t no chance for more.”

  She ignored his attempts to give it back to her. “Don’t worry, I’ll loot a movie theater later.” She smiled wider. “Or maybe a Costco, where I can get the big tub.”

  “Until then, hold on to it.”

  She folded her arms and glared at him. “DeShawn, quit being stubborn and chivalrous, and take the gift! If someone shoots at me, I want you to have the energy to stop that bullet. I’m being selfish, really.”

  He slipped the package into one of his many pockets. “I like this form of selfish. Everyone should be selfish and give me food.” He winked at her.

  She smiled. “That’s a good idea. What do you think, Chelsea?”

  The cheerleader hopped out of her seat and squeezed past Amanda. “I’ll spread the word.”

  “I was joking, girl.” But Chelsea was gone.

  Amanda patted his arm and stared off to where Chelsea held a pillow case open as she berated two Lycans about snack salvation. “Too late. The Wiccan network has gone to work. Give that girl a cause, and she’ll go after it, like a dog with a Vienna sausage.”

  “Speaking of.” Bubba held up the container and tipped it over. The meaty liquid formed a rippling ball that sunk slowly toward Oscar. Jaws snapped, and the sausage residual vanished behind teeth. Bubba dropped the lid into the empty tin and ripped off the label.

  “What are you doing?” Amanda asked.

  “Saying thank you.” Bubba dropped the tin in the air where it hovered. He then squeezed it into a ball. He pinched his fingers in the air and pulled his hands apart to focus his mind on the task as he blinked. “Details ain’t easy.”

  Thin wavering tendrils pulled away from the ball of metal. He tugged at it with his mind, molding it bit by bit.

  Amanda watched him work with interest. Her gasp of realization made Bubba happy.

  “It’s a giraffe! How did you know they’re my favorite?”

  Bubba grabbed the metal animal from the air and handed it over. “Oh, I’ve always been lucky, girl.”

  She took it, sniffed it, and laughed. “Sausage-raffe.”

  “Is there any other kind?”

  Chelsea shoved a half full sack of goodies onto his lap. “Selfishness for the win.”

  “Thank you, Miss Chelsea, and thank ya’ll too,” Bubba said to the bus as he glanced inside. “Oooooh, that will recharge the sausage-raffe sculpting nicely.” He ripped open a caramel filled candy bar.

  Oscar whined and put his paw on his wrist again.

  “Don’t be silly. You can’t have chocolate.” Bubba rummaged through the sack. “But we got jerky. Oscar approved!”

  Sadie slipped into the back of the high school gymnasium, wrinkling her nose at the scent of unwashed socks. Someone needs to talk to these coaches about how often teenage boys should wash their gym clothes.

  She walked silently and took a seat near the back of the town hall style meeting where this pack’s Alpha discussed the disturbing news he’d heard coming out of the south. Here’s hoping this one goes better than the last. Sadie took a deep breath and let her scent shift to something similar to Shelby’s wolfly smells. She’s always getting attention everywhere she goes.

  Every head whipped around. Several of the attendees began shifting, snarling.

  Sadie raised her hands. “I know, I know. You aren’t too trusting of outsider Lycans at the moment. Just give me a minute to talk.” She nodded to a boy she’d spent days befriending. “Tyson will vouch for me.”

  The Alpha glared at the boy. “Is this true? You invited a stranger here when we’re at war?” Tyson shrunk away and said nothing.

  “Hades, I was counting on you to make this easier, Tyson. Do I know how to pick em?” Sadie let her Shelby scent dissipate, hoping the distrust might ease if the scent of a stranger went away. “I’ll start with I’m not Advent.”

  The Alpha eyed her. “Yeah, I’ve heard they cull the weak.”

  Sadie bristled. “I’m small, but not weak. I’ll have you know that Mareus himself tried to recruit me.”

  More snarls greeted her. Easy, Sadie. This could go sideways really quick.

  “Look, I get it. I’ve got no love for the guy. I’ve seen up close and personal what the Advent is capable of. It’s scary stuff. You did the right thing, but the right thing has consequences.”

  The Alpha gave her a suspicious look.

  “Yeah, I’ve been spying on them . . . and you, but mostly them. I know they tried to sway you. I know you sent them packing. I also, unfortunately, know firsthand what they do when a pack turns them away. It ain’t pretty, and it ain’t far behind.”

  The Alpha sneered. “And you came here to warn us out of the kindness of your heart?”

  Sadie nodded. “Pretty much. That and to let you know you aren’t alone. There are others fighting. There’s a growing group of us who don’t want to see civilization burn under this so-called Alpha Prime.”

  “And you want us to join you? Be David to this Goliath?” The Alpha shook his head. “We’re good on our own.”

  Sadie shrugged. “It’s up to you, but you’re the one who said you’re at war. They will come in force next time, in two days, after a few more recruits arrive from the south. Allies are nice.”

  “How do you know this if you aren’t with them?” The Alpha didn’t sound as suspicious as his words.

  “I know because I’m a spy for the true Alpha Prime and his Summer Omega.” She let her hair change colors in waves while releasing the scent of summer rain. “Perhaps you’ve seen the gas station knight that’s all over the internet . . . at least when the internet’s working?”

  The room nodded almost as one, wolves shifting back to their human forms.

  “That’s my friend and packmate. She and our Alpha are gathering their own group to stand against the Advent. Are you interested in hearing more, or do I walk away and let you fend for yourselves?”

  The Alpha motioned toward a spot on the floor next to him. “You have five minutes.”

  A half-dozen heavily armed and armored Fae raced forward, bows drawn, arrows nocked. That went well, Dad, Athena thought. Way to negotiate.

  Athena hissed, took a defensive stance, and let her armor appear, her dual-bladed scythe flashing into existence. She spun to take stock of the room and gauge the threats that could come from the other Fae in the room.

  Mareus also wore his armor, but he held up his hands. “Wait, we’re here to talk about the Keys of Ascension.”

  The king of the Fae raised one perfectly sculpted, bored eyebrow. The guards froze. “What is this glamour? How did you create such a perfect illusion of our ancient armor?”

  Mareus kept his hands up and growled at Athena. “Put the scythe away. We cannot shed blood here.” To the king he bowed slightly. “It is no illusion. These were forged by your hands before Alsvoira fell, Abdonius. Do you not remember me?”

  The king squinted at her father while Athena contemplated letting the blades vanish. She chose to keep them in hand.

  “I do recognize you, Alpha Prime pretender. I made that armor eons ago so you could save us all. You failed.” The eyebrow dropped, and the guards advanced once more.

  Mareus did not flinch. “I failed nothing. My mission was simply delayed and the location of the battle moved. We will still defeat Tarloch and his minions.”

  The Fae king laughed bitterly. “Without the Goddess? I think not.”

  Mareus growled deep and low, his anger making his body shake. “The Goddess let the demo
ns in. I saw the alternate timelines where she defeated them easily. She chose to let us try to defend ourselves, knowing we would lose.”

  “You lie!” Abdonius leaned forward, spittle flying from his mouth.

  “I do not and I can prove it.”

  Abdonius raised a finger. The guards retreated a few steps. “Show me.”

  A wisp shot forward and hovered before Mareus, who shook his head. “It isn’t my memory to share.” He pointed at Athena.

  Athena stood straighter. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He means me, Ptyas spoke.

  “Oh, my Immortal Wolf.” She eyed the wisp that drew near with suspicion. “What do I do?”

  Give it permission to see a memory. I will do the rest.

  Athena looked the wisp in the upper middle, where she imagined eyes should be. “You have my permission to share a memory.”

  The wisp pulsed with light and then a picture formed in the air of the most perfect being Athena had ever seen. She made the Fae look ugly. The Goddess?

  Yes, Ptyas answered, his tone sad and angry, but Athena couldn’t tell who the anger was directed at.

  Himself? My father? The Goddess?

  Yes.

  Oh, I was trying to keep those thoughts to myself.

  There is no such refuge now.

  Athena absorbed that bit without reacting. She was too entranced with the memory playing out.

  The Goddess leaned down and reached out a delicate golden hand to stroke the side of her face, Ptyas’s face. “Thank you for taking on this burden, my child. It is too much to ask of one. You will let Iorna rest.”

  The Goddess turned and walked away, but the vision followed her to where a sheet of glass hung in the middle of the room. Athena could see Ptyas reflected in it, the wolf standing tall and proud. I’ve never seen you like that.

  I was young and so sure of everything, Ptyas said. And a fool.

  The Goddess tapped the glass and it became a gateway, showing a desert landscape on the far side. “You will remember what you see here and work with a human you trust to record it. I will share a timeline that did not come to be.”