by Casey Wyatt
“We need to come up with a back-up plan,” Jason said. “Nix will go ballistic if they harm the old man. No matter how much she complains about him.”
Cal fixed his gaze on Jason. “I know exactly what we can do.”
By the time Nix returned, the men had agreed to Cal’s plan. Each of them had a part to play. And none of them would divulge it to Nix. Cal knew she wouldn’t appreciate the deception, but the stakes were too high to waste time arguing.
Jason intercepted her on his way to the front door as she came back down the stairs. “Nix, I’m heading back to the shop. Devlin and I have some supplies to gather. We’ll be back as fast as we can.” Jason and Devlin left before Nix could ask any questions.
Cal watched her closely as she walked toward the sunroom with a blanket in her hand. She didn’t seem concerned that Jason and Devlin had left. So far so good.
“Cal, there’s something I need to show you and Zeph.” Nix held up the blanket and spoke to it. “Go ahead, you can trust them both. I do. With my life.”
Zephyr exchanged a worried glance with Cal.
Cal had no idea either. Why was Nix talking to a blanket?
The fabric shimmered, then transformed into a familiar silver cloth—the Destroyer’s Mantle.
“You’re addressing the Mantle?” Zephyr asked, his tone clearly concerned for Nix’s mental health.
Hello. It’s nice to be able to make contact with you. My name is Xchulban. But I prefer Ban.
The voice wound into Cal’s mind like a slim thread. Its touch was light as a feather, then the sensation retreated as quickly as it had appeared. Cal turned to Zephyr, whose mouth hung open. “Did the Mantle just talk to you?”
“I heard it, too. Nix, care to explain?” Zephyr seated himself on the couch.
Cal listened for the next few minutes while Nix outlined her discovery. How the Mantle was actually the skin of aliens unfortunate enough to be captured by Zeus and exploited by Nereus. “Sweet Aphrodite. What a bastard. No wonder Destroyers are nearly unbeatable.”
“And why Nereus keeps the technology so close to the vest.” Zephyr tipped his head to Nix. “By keeping it in the family, so to speak.”
“Once we get my father back, he’s got a lot to answer for.” Nix tightened her jaw and swallowed hard.
Cal agreed. The old man had earned a serious tongue-lashing. “Can the Mantle—”
Ban. Please call me by my name.
“Apologies. Ban, can you tell us where Nereus is?”
Yes. I left you clues. The sand in Nix’s shoes and the blood on her clothes.
“That was you?” Nix said. “We were wondering why I was dirty.”
I was testing the limits of my control. Whoever took me wasn’t Nereus. They didn’t follow the same protocols and safeguards were missed. That is why I have been able to speak with you.
“It’s Chilly!” Basil shouted. The bird had been so quiet Cal had forgotten he was there.
“He’s cold,” Cal said to Nix.
“No. He means Chile, as in South America.” Nix retrieved a laptop from her bag. “Ban, can you give me any more clues?”
Sadly, no. While I can independently control myself right now, the thief did remember to activate the erasure program.
“Well, that sucks. Chile is pretty damn big,” Cal said. Basil shifted from his perch and landed on Cal’s shoulder, claws digging into his skin. Cal tried not to think about Basil’s true form.
Nix didn’t seem to put off by the revelation. “We’re not sunk yet.” She pulled out her cell phone. “I’m calling Portia’s shop. There was a picture there—hello, yes...”
While Nix spoke with the clerk, Cal looked at the Mantle again and suppressed a shudder. Gods, how weird was that. Sentient skin. If he didn’t make it out of this alive, he wanted his body to be cremated and his ashes scattered into the sea, or onto the wind.
Nix closed the phone. “Bingo. The Atacama Desert.” She opened her laptop and started tapping keys. “Says here, it’s the driest place on Earth. A perfect place to subdue Nereus’ ability to harness water.” Nix spun the computer around to face Cal. “You have clearance into the League’s mainframe. Can you access the satellite?”
Cal took over typing. The satellite wasn’t common knowledge, but Nix wasn’t the average Nymph either. She probably didn’t know that the satellite was a hybrid of mortal and God technology. The interface ran through the Oracles of Delphi. One of their duties, in the modern world, was to monitor mortal and God activities.
“I tapped into the feed.” He entered the GPS coordinate for the Atacama and zoomed in, bringing ground level closer and closer. The landscape was fairly unspectacular, nothing but sand and hills.
They have masked their presence. Your technology can’t perceive them. If you take me there, I can locate their signal and bring you to the exact location.
Cal closed the laptop. “Road trip?”
Zephyr stood up. “Nix, Cal and I need to prepare. We’ll return with supplies.” When Nix arched an eyebrow, he added, “We’re going to need to bring a lot of water. We can’t have you passing out or unable to use your powers now, can we? Do you have any ideas on how we can get to Chile quickly?”
Cal had to hand it to the guy. He was smooth. Everything Zephyr said was true. What he didn’t say was they had another, more pressing matter to attend to before they went.
One that Nix couldn’t find out about, until it was too late for her to stop them.
Impatience ate away at Nix. Doing nothing was not in her makeup. She paced back and forth while she waited for Cal and Zephyr to return. After an hour of fruitless treadmilling inside the house, she stomped outside, kicking hot sand ahead of her. The beach was occupied by neighboring families catching rays, eating snacks, totally oblivious to the larger cosmic forces conspiring to end their existence.
Nix stopped at the shore’s edge. She burrowed her bare feet into the cool, wet surface and watched the ocean’s water tug in and out, dragging the sand from under her heels. The water, the source of all a Nereid’s strength, calmed her. She breathed in the salted air and slowed her mind. There was a way to rescue Nereus and prevent Typhon’s release. She spun through a list of possible solutions, sorting them one at a time.
First problem—find a fast, stealthy mode of transportation to South America. Human conveyances were out of the question—too slow and too risky to innocent passengers. Portia had been very specific about setting up a drop point at Mystic Center. She expected Nix to do as she was told, like a good little drone, and deliver Typhon’s seal into Portia’s hands in exchange for Nereus.
Throughout all their years together, Portia had never bothered to get to know Nix. A fact Nix planned to exploit to the fullest advantage. The other Gods weren’t allowed to provide direct assistance, but if the request were innocuous enough, that wouldn’t be helping. Right?
Nix ran back into the house and dialed her cell. “Charon. Hey, did I catch you at a bad time? Remember last year, when I won the office raffle? I would like to collect on my prize now.”
There was a long beat of silence. Nix wanted to curse the Fates and their stupid rules, but then Charon answered. “What time shall I deliver it?”
“How about in five minutes? At the beach house.”
“Fine.” Then Charon was gone.
Whew. One problem solved. Nix pocketed the phone and headed toward the stairs to change clothes. She had just entered the sunroom when heavy footsteps pounded up the wooden front steps. The screen door screeched on its hinges, then banged back in place. When Cal and Zephyr joined her, their faces both wore neutral expressions. Their casual nonchalance set off all kinds of alarm bells in Nix’s head.
Cal spoke first. “Nix, do you trust me?”
Nix searched his face. A faint trace of antiseptic tickled her nostrils. Was he hurt? Cal gently squeezed her shoulders, prompting her to respond. “Yes. You know I do.”
“Then curb your questions for little while longer.” He pre
ssed his lips to her forehead. “I promise to explain, later.”
Nix leaned upward, kissing his soft, full mouth. “Okay.”
Zephyr cleared his throat. “Nix, you have a visitor.”
Nix peered behind him to see Charon walking up the concrete steps from the beach. In the distance, a longboat hovered over the surf, casting a shadow over the unsuspecting mortal swimmers below.
“Our ride is here.” Nix shouldered on her backpack, trying not to groan at the weight. Spelled to contain gallons of water, it was much heavier than it looked.
Nix caught up to Charon as he crossed the small grassy backyard. She plastered a big grin on her face. “I can’t wait to go fishing. I never thought I would accept this prize.” She clammed up. To speak of her actual plans in front of Charon would count as knowledge, and he would take his boat and go back to the Underworld.
“Try not to sink it,” Charon rasped. “Make sure your trip doesn’t last longer than twenty-four hours from the time you board the ship. Once your time is up, it will return to me, with or without you.” Charon handed a bronze dial to Nix. “This is the key. So the boat will follow your commands.”
“Charon, don’t you need this boat to ferry souls?” Cal asked as he shifted his pack on his shoulders. He was fully armed: knives strapped to each thigh, two pistols tucked into holsters, and a bow with quiver attached to the pack.
Charon looked Cal up and down, no doubt curious about the arsenal. Thankfully he didn’t ask questions or voice any concerns.
“Nah. This is one of my private pleasure boats. Good fishing.” He turned on his heels, walked two steps, then vanished.
“Am I the only one repulsed by the idea of what Charon probably does for pleasure?” Zephyr said with a shudder.
“Nope,” Cal said. “Let’s not go there.”
They walked down to the beach and stopped at the water line. “How the hell are we supposed to get on board?” Nix shaded her eyes from the sun. A couple of ideas floated through her head—maybe a water bridge? A cool mist touched her calves. Fog rolled in around her ankles, coalescing into a spongy pillow.
“No worries.” Zephyr raised his arms, pulling them all up off the ground. They sailed on a cloud up to the deck and landed with a small bump.
“Show off,” Nix grumbled, her stomach doing flip flops.
Zephyr winked and dropped his backpack onto the deck. “Cal, would you do the honors? You are the most qualified sailor among us.”
Nix agreed with that one. Cal took the bronze dial from her and walked to the stern. The ship didn’t have a steering wheel, but a long handle, presumably connected to the rudder. “Nix, bring Ban back here with me. I need him to navigate.”
The Mantle unfurled into the ocean breeze, the ends flapping lightly. Nix was almost positive Portia had no idea the Mantles were really alien slaves. She was also sure her sister would have stolen another Mantle to use for her own purposes. Nix just hadn’t figured out how Portia would control her Mantle. The cloaks were normally deprogrammed after every mission to ensure they couldn’t be used by non-authorized personnel.
The boat lurched under her feet and rose upward. She stumbled her way to a pile of wooden crates and sat down, as far away from the ship’s railing as she could get. Nereids didn’t like heights, and she was no exception. When Zephyr commented on her white knuckles, she flipped him off.
Zephyr sat down next to her. “Jason and Devlin are positioned in Mystic Center. They’ll alert me when Portia arrives.”
Nix appreciated her friend’s attempt to distract her. How the hell high was this ship going to rise? At the rate they were ascending, they would be in outer space. “That’s good,” she choked out as the boat suddenly stopped.
“Hang on!” Cal shouted.
Without warning, the craft launched forward in a zero to twenty-five thousand miles per hour start that would have given a NASA astronaut wood. Nix latched onto Zephyr with a death grip and squeezed her eyes shut. Surprisingly, they were protected from the effects of moving so quickly through space and time. There was barely a breeze to ruffle her hair.
“First time ever traveling like this?” Zephyr’s tone sounded exhilarated. Of course, he probably loved it.
Nix cracked her eyes open and squeaked, “Yes.” The sky zipped by so fast it was a blur. Nix unclenched her hands from Zephyr’s arm. “I always go by sea or land. I don’t like heights.”
“We should be there in a few minutes. Do you have a plan of attack in mind?”
“Yes. Ban said my father would be minimally guarded. So my plan is to avoid detection. Between the three of us, we should be able to overcome any traps or spells.” Nix sounded more confident than she actually felt. While Portia wasn’t a genius, her accomplices had more than two brain cells to rub together. And there was the underlying feeling that this was all too easy.
“Full stop coming up!” Cal warned.
Nix gripped the box’s edge, prepared to fly forward. But instead, the ship continued to defy the laws of physics and stopped smoothly. A bleak, barren landscape surrounded them. For miles, nothing but grayish blue sand and endless mounds of gravel and scrub brush.
“Are you okay?” Cal joined them. Ban in one hand, brass dial in the other.
“I’m fine. Let’s go.” Nix walked to the side rail. How would they disembark? The side railing vanished. She jumped backward as a wooden staircase appeared. It unfurled one step at a time until the last step touched the ground. “Why didn’t you do that before?” Nix grumbled at the hull. “And don’t you dare leave without us.”
The stairway vibrated as if insulted. A well-timed fireball from Cal settled the staircase down.
Nix took a long look around once they reached the desert floor. “How lovely. Remind me not to consider this place for my next vacation,” she groused. She could practically feel the dry air sucking the moisture out of her skin. Good thing she had extra water. She hoped she had enough. They had no idea how long it would take to reach Nereus or what condition he would be in after a week and half in the desert.
“Which way, Ban?” Cal said, holding the cape out, then rotating 360 degrees.
Far in the distance, mountains rose above the horizon. Not as high as the Andes or Everest but high enough. Nix hoped they didn’t have her father up there. No way would the water last.
East. A few miles at most.
“Onward ho, then,” Zephyr called as he walked ahead.
“What are we, on the Oregon Trail?” Cal said, looping Ban around his shoulders.
“No need to be so testy, Fireboy.”
“Don’t be such a Pollyanna,” Cal shot back.
What’s a Pollyanna? Ban asked.
Nix rubbed her temples. This was going to be a long few miles.
Chapter 19
Nix decided that trudging through desert sand was a lot more tedious than walking along the beach. The landscape was littered with boulders and sharp rocks. Every once in a while they would hit a patch of sharp bristly grass. The place wasn’t totally devoid of life. Especially the slithering or multi-legged variety. Snakes, lizards, and scorpions—oh my.
The dry air didn’t help. Cal and Zephyr experimented with cocooning Nix in a bubble of heated air. So far it had succeeded in making her hot, thirsty, and cranky. It took her mind off her father for a little while. Would he be injured? Butterflies roiled around in her stomach, and her jaw ached from gritting her teeth. She may have been angry with him, but he was still her dad. Portia would pay for her treason with her immortal existence. There was no way Nereus or the Delian League would allow her to live after her betrayal.
If Nix were like Chloe or Tabby, she might have felt sorry for Portia, but she didn’t. Portia had always been a conniving bitch.
“We’re not alone,” Zephyr pronounced, scattering Nix’s thoughts.
Dust clouds billowed, rolling along the horizon, heading straight for them. The cloud moved with unnatural speed, closing the distance in a span of minutes. A dark mass wa
s approaching. Nix swore she could hear hooves galloping.
“Are those Centaurs?” Nix asked as she shielded her eyes from the sun and dust. Normally, Centaurs were more interested in studying books and acting superior than in fighting. These guys must have been part of the Centaur Anarchy Front, a radical group dedicated to breaking what they called the Delian League’s stranglehold on the God World. Nereus had been battling them for the last century and a half. Her stomach sank. Gods help her father if they were allowed access to him.
“Afraid so.” Cal unhooked the bow and strung it. “Zephyr, assist me?”
Arrows zinged through the sky, flying so high Nix lost sight of them. No way to tell if any of them hit, but she was betting on yes. Zephyr, using the power of wind, would have ensured they didn’t miss.
“Get down!” Cal shouted over loud whistling. “They’re returning fire.”
Nix grabbed the Mantle and unfurled it over the three of them like an umbrella. Arrows bounced harmlessly into the sand. “Thanks, Ban.”
The ground thundered under their feet. The vibration rattled Nix’s teeth. “What are there, a million of them?”
Cal poked his head out from under the Mantle, then ducked back inside. “Nope. There’s a Cyclops with them.”
“Eddie?” Nix asked, happy to have another go-around with the crafty bastard.
“Possibly. We’ll find out in a minute.”
“What’s the strategy here?” Zephyr pulled the Mantle off the group. The Centaurs were close enough now. There were at least ten, all in man-horse form, and they all looked ready to rumble. Armed with heavy chains, hammers, and axes, the group was garbed in bandanas and leather, similar to the Cyclops leading the pack.
“Kick ass.” Nix pulled a knife out of her pack and palmed a ball of water. “We need to get in and get out, before Portia is tipped off.”