by Jamie Wyman
“But…?” I prompted him to continue.
“You weren’t home.”
“I mean about the veil,” I growled.
“It wasn’t the veil. Not the real one anyway. Polyhymnia, it seems, kept several decoys on her person. When I realized I’d been mistaken, I returned to find the Muse gone. I picked up the trail after that, and well…you know how that part ended.”
“Grey didn’t give a shit about Loki calling me at all,” I said, shaking my head sadly. “So, he must have followed you to my house and thought you stashed the veil with me or something.”
“Fair assumption, I suppose.”
“And then he figures out that I don’t have it, that you’re still looking. So he tracks Polly—and us—to the wrecker lot where wackiness ensues.”
Marius was incredulous. “And?”
I waved him off. “And now Grey has what he wanted all along.”
“And Karma,” Flynn growled.
I ticked off another finger. “And an innocent priest.”
“Come now, Catherine,” Marius purred, “are any priests truly innocent?”
I rolled my eyes and ignored him. What did one have to do with the other? Where did Muriel fit in? I spun it over in my head, turning the problem this way and that. Muriel’s involvement didn’t gel. If she, like Nate, was an angel, it stood to reason that she shared his strong moral compass. So how would she be involved in Grey’s plot to steal the veil?
“What am I missing?” I yelled, flinging myself back on the couch. I closed my eyes and tapped on my forehead in an old nervous habit. Think, think, think, I sang to myself.
“What does he want with the veil? What did he mean by ‘no one can hide forever’?” I snapped. My question was met with silence. “That’s reassuring,” I muttered to the men. Growling again, I pressed my palms into my eyes. “Marius, tell me what you know.”
“I already told you.”
“Tell me again,” I barked.
He sighed heavily, a weary sound of equal parts annoyance and frustration. “The three best theories are that it gives power to mages, can be used to boost the inherent magic of a work, or will allow someone direct contact to the gods.”
I sat bolt upright. Flashes of understanding burst in my mind like lightning. Thoughts fused together, and the picture before me became clearer. “Wait a minute. I’ve almost got it.”
“If you’re having a Miss Cleo moment could you spare some lottery numbers?” Marius crooned.
Every voice in the room answered, “Shut up!”
“What do you have, Cat?” Flynn asked, his tone nurturing.
“It doesn’t power mages. If that was the case, Grey wouldn’t need it so bad, because he and his lackeys are backed by Belial.”
“Maybe it’s Belial who wants the veil, and Grey is doing the leg work,” Flynn offered.
“Well, yeah, but to what end?”
“Do we think Belial is actually the one who killed Muriel and Polly?” Nate added.
Marius flapped his lips derisively. “Why would a Prince of Hell do such mundane work? I’ll grant you that killing an angel and a Muse is difficult, but why would someone with Belial’s power bother when he could send someone else to do it? Even if his mortal followers aren’t up to the task, Belial holds sway over a cadre of pet demons.”
“Like Moloch,” I offered.
“A fine example. And more likely to be your killer than the Prince himself.”
Nate snarled something under his breath and balled up his fists. “I thought you said Moloch had gone away, along with…others.”
Marius shrugged elegantly. “I have made mistakes in the past. Belial might be holding Moloch’s leash rather tightly these days, thus making it appear that his demon is off the radar.”
The answers were there, right on the tip of my tongue. Truth and understanding danced with the electric taste of ozone. It was there if I could just…
“Believer,” I whispered. Then I had it! I gasped. Like a nuclear blast, my mind flared with the answer. The picture fell into place—Muriel’s phone call from Hell, the mages, and the Muse. A Muse whose chief power is to sanctify words. A relic. And a disciple of a god who’d gone missing. I whipped to face Flynn. “The golem back at the church. When it grabbed Father Calvert it hissed a single word, believer.”
“So?”
My blood went cold as I understood what Loki had gotten me involved in. That dirty bastard.
“I know what the veil does.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Sober”
I was on my feet and running through the room, collecting my things and stuffing them into my bag.
“Would you care to share with the rest of the class?” Marius said.
“Exactly what you said. Polyhymnia can make the words of a believer sacred, opening a direct line to divinity. And in this case, that is a terrible, awful, no-good-very-bad thing. Flynn, do you have any idea of how we can find Karma?”
His pale face fell, and his gaze darted to the side. “I do, but you might not like it,” he murmured sheepishly.
I shrugged into Polly’s jacket and packed its pockets with my best gadgets. “Why not?”
“I can use the implant in your side, the one she used to save your life. It would create a link to her that we could follow.”
I blinked, more than a little afraid of what my role in this would be. “Do we have to take it out or something?”
He shook his head. “No, but I would need your blood. She used hers to power the implant. It’s mixed with yours along with some of her signature energy.”
“Fine. Do you have a panic button? Maybe we can just bamf to her once we track her down.”
He shuffled his feet nervously. “I don’t think I can teleport all of us through if I tried that.”
“Then we need a car.”
Marius’s face split into a feral grin. “Leave that to me.”
The satyr glided across the room.
“Where are you going?” Nate asked. He was on his feet, mouth gaping. “Is he going to steal a car?”
“Best if you don’t ask lest it weigh on your tender conscience, choir boy,” Marius sang as he strutted out the door.
Nate flashed a questioning glance at me. I batted it away. “He’s right. Don’t ask. It’s better that way.” I turned my attention to Flynn. “What do you need from me in order to find Karma?”
He appeared sallow, damn near gaunt. His tired eyes pled with me. As he opened his mouth, little more than a hoarse, weak croak came out. Then, a blast of mirthless laughter. “What am I thinking? I can’t ask this of you, Cat.”
“What do you need?”
“We’ll find another way.”
“Do you need a little? A lot?”
“Stop, Cat…”
“Is it like a diabetes stick where we can use my finger or do you have to go into the wound she healed?”
“Goddammit, Cat, I don’t want to hurt you!”
With a whiplash crack! and a flash of golden light, Flynn was knocked off his feet. He staggered backward and landed on the fluffy bed, eyes wide. Nate stood with his fists clenched, one outstretched as if he’d just punched Flynn.
“Mind your curses,” the angel said, his whisper deadly.
Flynn swallowed hard and bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”
My friend was in pain, torn between me and a woman he cared for. Did he love her? Jealousy stung my eyes. If I’d ever had a chance with Flynn—if I’d ever wanted one to begin with—it had long since passed. His fierce devotion to Karma twisted at my chest, but not because I felt cheated. Because I understood.
I’d felt the same sickening fear when I couldn’t find Marius in the sea of chaos at the church.
“Flynn, please,” I said quietly. “I owe her. We need to do this quickly if we’re going to have any chance of helping her, of stopping Grey.”
“Stopping him from what?” he asked, voice threadbare as his patience. “Tell us what you think he�
�s up to. Maybe there’s another way to find Karma and get the veil.”
“Grey is trying to find Nate and Muriel’s father.”
Nate stared at me, eyes wide and frightened as a doe’s. “You’re sure?”
I nodded. “It’s the only thing that has made sense since Loki called me Friday night. He’s going to use the veil to find…well, you know,” I fumbled over naming Him. “And they’ve got Belial backing them. I don’t know about you, but the idea of Hell going on the offensive looking for the Almighty? I don’t think they want to invite Him to a picnic.”
Nate remained dumbstruck. Flynn bobbed his head in sad assent, then stood and crossed the room. Each movement was precise and laden with anger. When he was a breath away from me he stopped. With a snap and a flash of steel, a switchblade appeared between us.
“You trust me?”
“Of course,” I answered immediately.
He took a breath and steeled himself. “Take off the jacket and lift up your shirt. Nate, can you heal her once I make the cut?”
The angel’s answer came in the sounds of his footsteps as he took up a position next to me. I broke out into a cool sweat. Flynn was going to stab me. And I was going to just stand here and let him.
If he ever doubted our friendship after this, I would smack the fuck out of him.
Flynn sliced quickly. I didn’t feel the pain until the knife was well away and my blood had already begun to spill. I hissed in a breath as the sting spread. “How much do you need?”
“Not much more.”
Flynn collected my blood into a small cup and sprinted off to the bathroom to work his magic with it. Immediately, Nate palmed the wound. A dreamy feeling spread through me like warm oil slipping into my veins. My side stitched itself together painlessly. Not only that, my ankle stopped throbbing. Nate’s touch soothed even the tiniest of aches that made up my body’s background noise.
“Thank you,” I sighed blissfully.
Nate backed away. Ruefully, he answered, “Wish it could’ve helped Polly.”
“We all have our limits,” I muttered in a lame attempt at sage-like wisdom. I pulled on Polly’s jacket, the doeskin a welcome comfort as I pondered the next—read: batshit crazy—part of my plan. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I said, “I need to test a couple of mine.”
“What are you doing?” he asked, brow knitting with concern.
“Breaking into Asgard.”
I stomped away and locked myself in the closet. I sat down and ran my fingers over the rune on my arm. If I pressed down I could feel the hardness of Loki’s gift beneath my skin. Three times the god had pulled me to him, presumably using our shared connection. I closed my eyes and began a slow drip of power into the rune on my arm. It throbbed with a quiet, soft-blue light. A filament of power stretched into the infinite darkness.
Muffled by the door, Nate’s voice floated into the closet. “I don’t think Asgard’s in there.”
I cracked a smile but hardened my focus.
Loki, I mentally called. Steward of my soul. I need to talk to you.
It was the last thing to cross my mind before the great whoosh of power swept me away into void.
…
I’m racing along in darkness, following the arctic-blue filament through space. There is no sound. There is no sense of having a body. There is only speed and the wan light of my connection to a deity.
Sensation returns with a jolt, a flash of heat over my cheeks, and an oppressive weight in my chest.
“What the motherfuck?” Loki roars.
I open my eyes to find that I am not in Asgard. At least, no place in the Allfather’s domain that I’ve seen before. This is not a place of ice and steel but of molten fire and brittle stone. Flames dance all around me, and infinite rivers of lava flow in the distance. The very air quivers with the intense heat. And yet, I do not burn. I stand on firm, black rock. Razor-sharp edges dig into my bare feet.
“What are you doing here?” he bellows.
We are not alone.
Curtains of flame part to reveal other faces. Some of them are known to me; others are a mystery. Shadows play over the caramel skin and hard features of Maui, Hawaii’s avatar of mayhem. The god’s signature fishhook blazes bone white at his throat. His sheet of black hair glows in the crimson light, his oil-drop eyes fixed on me.
Maui sits at a table made of obsidian. To his left is a fierce beauty. Like him, her skin is the color of brown sugar and her long hair is silken midnight. A wreath of red berries rests upon her head like a crown. She wears a gown of fire. The bloodlust in her stare spears my stomach, and I look away. She is the mistress of fire, Pele.
Another woman. Her skin is black as the rocks beneath my feet, her eyes solid gold. She wears white gossamer and radiates peace. But also strength. Such immense strength. As she spreads a pair of golden wings, I quail, tucking into myself.
At first I think that inky shadows paint the next guest, but then I realize his alabaster skin is marred by Rorschach blotches. I remember him. His shock of white hair and howling voice. His frail body is racked with twitches and ticks. In a brief moment of stillness, he fixes me with wild blue eyes. Beside him sits a barrel-chested blonde with a lantern jaw.
I know him.
“You would bring a mortal into my sanctum?” Pele asks, her voice crackling like wildfire as anger flashes over her features.
“Not of my will, Lady, but that of a stupid, stubborn girl!” Loki’s attention moves back to me, and he bellows, “Answer me!”
The world shakes with his wrath. He stands over me, eyes lambent with fury. My mark burns on my arm, and I fall to my knees.
“Why have you come here?” he spits at me.
Even though I’m surrounded by fire, I shiver in the icy blast of Loki’s anger. “I know who killed Muriel,” I say, my voice a bleating plea for his mercy.
“Did you not think to use a phone?”
“It couldn’t wait. There is no time.”
“There is always time. Go back to your world, and I will call on you when I am finished with my business.”
“Let her speak,” a familiar bass voice calls from the table.
It is the blond man. He stands up and crosses the strange, shifting space here. His slim nose and sharp features swim out of the quivering air as he comes closer.
The Dealer. The one to impose order when Chaos plays poker.
I see other faces behind him. Too many to make out. They blur together and disappear behind the flames.
Maui joins the Dealer next to Loki, and the three of them stare down at me expectantly.
“What have you found, wahine?” Maui asks, his tone gentle.
I look to my steward, seeking approval. Loki gives the slightest of nods, and I answer. “There are mages,” I begin. “They have thrown in with Belial to strengthen themselves.”
Voices behind that curtain hiss and whisper. Sounds of disgust. Conspiratorial murmurs. I try to make out the words, but they crackle like flames, alien to my mortal ears.
“Go on,” Loki prods. “Spill it.”
“They have the Veil of Polyhymnia and have kidnapped a technomancer and a priest.”
The stunned silence and the sharp tang of fear that suddenly ripples through the air is enough to confirm my dark suspicions. Before I can say more, Loki lifts his hand and turns to the Dealer.
“What do you think?”
“Troublesome,” he answers. He gazes to the table of assembled entities, bringing his hand to his mouth in a pensive gesture. “We need more time,” he mutters.
“Belial,” Pele calls. “Can the Prince truly make so brazen a move? Perhaps your mortal is mistaken.”
Maui cracks a smile to me. “This one is smarter and wiser than others of her sort, cousin. Tell me, Cat, what is it you plan to do?”
“I’m going after the veil.”
“No,” Maui, the Dealer, and Loki bark in unison.
Pele snorts. “So much for being smarter.”
&nb
sp; “You will not,” Loki snaps. “I told you to find out who killed the girl and bring me that information. You’ve done that. Consider your task fulfilled.”
“I have to go,” I say firmly. “They have my friend.”
“Do not,” my master hisses. “I will deal with them.” His eyes flicker up to the Dealer. Then he turns to look over his shoulder. Faces I don’t know crane about to look at me. A woman with a raven on her shoulder. The shadow of horns over a man’s body. Bat-like wings. An androgynous figure who seems to be made of water. An old man with flowing white hair, his robes gone gray with age. They all peer through the warped distance, and though their mouths don’t move, I hear whispers.
Maui catches my eye. His mouth is set in a thin line, his mercurial features rigid. He shakes his head in warning.
“For your sake,” the Dealer says, “I urge you to heed the words of your master.”
“But my friend…”
Loki rounds on me, my brand once again flaring with pain. “…is as good as dead if she is in the company of Belial. Now do as I say and go!”
Darkness, inky and final, surrounds me. I am floating backward through a tunnel. At the end, the flames fade. And just before the strange scene winks into the void, I see the blotchy madman. He raises a hand and wiggles his fingers.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Time is Running Out”
“Cat!” Flynn’s voice called my name over a series of hits on the door of the closet. I gasped, still feeling the oppressive heat of Pele’s realm. The sudden darkness caressed me like a cool, damp blanket, and I thought my skin might sizzle off.
“I’m fine,” I croaked, my voice dry. I licked my parched, cracked lips and groped to open the door. The soft glow of the lamps may as well have been bright as the sun. I squinted against them, silhouettes of Nate and Flynn burned into my retinas.
Flynn’s hand was steely around my arm as he pulled me to my feet. “I’ve got a lock on Karma, but I don’t know how long I can hold the connection.”
“Are you all right?” Nate asked.