“Why the hell did we need shovels if everything’s already here?”
“Touch something.” Dante had disappeared behind a row of golden spears taller than me.
I did so, feeling the cool metal. “It’s gold.”
“Exactly.”
“Not sure I follow, buddy.” My feet squished in the soft dirt, as I walked around the glittering golden spears. They, like everything else in the room, were undeniably real: no illusion magic was turning lead into gold. The perfect spears seemed almost hypnotic, calling out from another age. The collection had to be worth in the hundreds of millions—if one were being conservative. I stared at Dante, who was digging into hole near the wall.
“It is gold, but that’s hardly worth the risk we took.” Dante held an ancient piece of parchment high above his head. I realized he was holding it out for me. “And to think, at one point, this was my only god.”
“Had a religious experience?”
“Not quite,” Dante said cryptically. “But that’s a story for another time.”
His shoulders tensed. Voices were snaking their way through the narrow rock hallways. The treasure hunter gestured silently with his head, imploring me to follow him. At the back of the room, which seemed to dead-end, he swept away the mounds of treasure—goblets, chains, even papers gilded in precious metals and jewels—and ran his hands methodically along the wall. The voices grew louder, mixing with the feral roars of creatures from the depths.
“Oh, dearest little Cross, you cannot escape your trial, try as you might all these years.” The natural reverb of the caves granted Lucille’s voice a godly tenor, which made my already rampant nerves kick into overdrive. Dante, for his part, remained unperturbed by her threats, continuing to trace over the rock with his fingers. Finally, there was a slight click, and the wall shifted. There was a small hole that led to the center of the earth. On the other side was another passageway.
“Step over,” Dante said, offering his hand.
“You know the way. You go first.”
“It’s easier if you do,” Dante said. He tapped the parchment and handed me the magical coin. “Since you’re good at keeping track of important things.”
I stepped over the small hole and slipped into the crevice. A faint glow appeared on the wall above my head, an ancient enchantment lighting the way.
I turned back to Dante. “Let’s go.”
He smiled, but it was forced. His eyes were moving slowly, like he’d been frozen. I realized then, in horror, that the coin had been counteracting whatever spell Lucille had cost on him. “I’ll see you in another life, Eden.”
Then, with the last of his willpower, his fingers pressed the hidden switch, and the rock began to groan shut. He tossed the revolver in the narrow opening, and the gun bounced against my feet.
“Why?”
“Because five hundred years is too long to run.”
Then the rock face slammed shut, leaving me all alone.
22
Sometimes you feel so trapped you wanna scream.
Sometimes you are trapped, and you scream, and no one answers.
I was getting that feeling a lot this week.
I slammed my fists against the wall and screamed until my voice was raw, but nothing responded beyond my own frantic echoes. The false wall didn’t open, nor could I hear anything from the other side. Hands bruised, I finally gave up my futile pursuit. After slipping Dante’s piece of parchment into my back pocket, I reached down to grab the revolver. Upon checking the chamber in the dim light, I found it had one bullet remaining. Delightful.
It dawned on me, in the dark, that it was strange that I could touch this weapon. All others were off limits. Even some kitchen knives gave me trouble, blistering my hands like they were hot coals. But this I could grab without any issue at all.
The coin. I stared at the small, misshapen piece of metal in the dim glow of the narrow tunnel. Nothing suggested that it was extraordinary. But it had allowed Dante to flee from Lucille’s grasp, counteracting the goddess’s magic. It must have been doing the same here, allowing me to violate the terms of our agreement.
I put the coin into my pocket, but found that the gun immediately felt like hot lava in my fingers. It clattered to the ground at my feet, and I cursed. Apparently I needed to be in contact with the metal. After waving my hand in the air for a few moments—luckily I hadn’t held on long enough to get burned—I dug the coin out and picked up the revolver. I hadn’t gotten a close look at it before Lucille had ambushed us, but I could see now that it was a .45.
It would have been nice if I could’ve crossed someone off the damn list. No, it wasn’t the murder weapon, but everyone in Dante’s crew seemed to favor the exact same caliber of gun. Maybe that was coincidence, maybe not. Even though he’d saved my ass, I didn’t trust this wasn’t a longer part of the con.
I slipped the gun into my pocket along with the coin. It didn’t burn me through my jeans, which worked. Then I yanked out the burner and turned it on. No service, just as I’d expected. Maybe if I got out of here, though, I could call for help.
After pocketing the phone, I headed the only way I could: forward. If our path through the caverns had been narrow before, here it was tight enough to feel my own breath deflected back at me off the wall.
The path had few curves. The magical light eventually gave way to a faint flicker as the passage narrowed further. I had shift my body horizontally to continue. Faint sounds of nature—birds, rushing water, the wind—drifted past. I accelerated my sideways shuffle to top speed, ankles awkwardly banging together as I sought to escape the claustrophobia.
I emerged at the incline’s bottom, judging the sound of the river nearby. The waterfall was distant, further up the cliffs. Upon stumbling into the jungle, in a small clearing where the light sliced through the trees, a euphoric relief flooded through my veins. This was paradise. I took a few steps forward, into the unmarked brush, then craned my neck backward. The entrance to the hidden tunnel looked like little more than a crag in a sheer cliff face. Impossible to spot unless you knew where it came out. Even then, utterly useless, since it was a one-way trip.
Before I could celebrate my daring escape, the Reaper’s Switch thrummed against my leg. Lucille was lurking close by. Or there was something similarly dangerous. I swallowed, finding my throat drier than a Saharan drought, and swept my gaze over the dense foliage. There was no trail. While what Dante and I had sprinted up earlier hardly qualified, it looked positively tame compared to the dense overgrowth stretching out before me now.
I pulled out the Reaper’s Switch. The small switchblade glowed in my hand, much like the coin had earlier. A branch cracked, and I spun, heart pounding wildly. But I could see nothing in the infinite jungle. I couldn’t just stand here forever. Still gripping the knife tightly, I glanced at the sun through the gaps in the branches, trying to estimate the time. From the position, it looked like it was a little before noon.
Aldric would be expecting delivery of his souls soon—that, and the rival Reaper. Oh, and the thief, too. With no way out of here, though, I wouldn’t have to worry about him skinning me alive for failing to deliver. The burbling river gave me an idea, though. It likely flowed out into the ocean. And if I found the ocean, that meant I had found the coastline. And, where there was beach, there was inevitably people.
I oriented myself toward the sound of rushing water, took a deep breath, then plunged into the wilderness. Brambles and twigs tore at my jeans. I stifled a huge fuck as I tripped over something. Sweeping my hand out along the moist ground as far as I could, my knuckles touched against something cool and smooth.
A skull grinned back at me, a fern growing between its missing front teeth.
Well, if I died out here, at least I’d have company.
I pushed myself up and hurried toward the rushing water. The stream wasn’t far, now, from the sound. With any luck I’d be out of this treasure hunter’s hellhole and back in the city before the suns
et. What I’d tell Aldric at that point, I had no idea. At least I wouldn’t have Rayna to deal with, since she was apparently part of Dante’s team.
I merged from the dense jungle and breathed a sigh of relief. It was short-lived.
“Hello, Eden,” Lucille said from across the stream. “You are more predictable than I thought.” My skin went cold despite the sweltering humidity. The Reaper’s Switch vibrated like it was trying to squirm from my grip altogether. I watched as the colorful leaves parted and the goddess emerged. Not human, and alone. Without her minions lurking, I could taste Lucille’s soul. Unlike our last meeting, she wasn’t bothering to hide it in a semi-sweet veneer. It tasted like ash and the shittiest bourbon imaginable. Pure bitterness and destruction.
And more than enough power to knock me on my ass.
I pretended to act casually as the tall woman sat on the mossy forest floor. Lucille could assume a more ethereal form, or so she claimed, but had visited me in human form for “convenience’s sake.” Convenient for whom was anyone’s guess.
The woman sat cross-legged near the edge of the creek, sunlight slicing across her straight, straw-colored hair. If she had been walking in the supermarket, you wouldn’t notice her, other than the height. Lucille was plain, her features instantly forgettable. Perhaps that was the point: to slip through humanity undetected.
She wore one piece of human jewelry: a small, simple silver stud in her nose. It made her look younger than her ageless years, like a college student going through a brief phase.
I hadn’t spoken to Lucille in four years. Not since she’d brought Sierra back.
“Speak, child.” She gazed at me like she had somewhere better to be.
“Hi?” What I hoped would be a confident greeting came out as more of a question.
She rubbed the stud and flared her nostrils, but offered no reply, sitting still on the verdant forest floor. A macaw chirped deep within the trees as a sudden wave rose from the creek. The tide surged over the edge, foam lapping around my low tops before receding from whence it came.
“You’re shaking, little Reaper.” She stood suddenly, like a dog unceremoniously awakened from a peaceful slumber. I suddenly aware that my whole body was shaking like I was caught in the middle of a hurricane. She approached, her flowing see-through blouse unaffected by the various sticks and prickly bushes. Enchanted with a demonic magic, no doubt. Last time I’d seen her, she’d just been naked.
For a goddess, she was remarkably plain and forgettable. Her long straw-colored braid hung to her waist, and it swished back and forth as she stalked forward like a jungle cat. Just letting me know that she was toying with me. That didn’t thrill me. Her power exceeded even Aldric’s. He’d never made the Switch so much as buzz.
She was completely silent. Amazingly, so was the jungle—as if every creature had stopped, waiting for this scourge to disappear. Even her breaths were quiet—if she breathed at all. With an elegant movement, she extracted a saber from a battered scabbard adorning her waist and pointed the blade at me.
“Perhaps you will tell me where Dante hides.”
“I—I…”
“I have no time to talk to fawns. Tell me what I wish to know.”
“That wasn’t part of our deal.”
In response, a rotting werewolf paw flew through the air and hit me in the chest. I stumbled back, more surprised than anything else. I felt the piece of parchment slip out of my back pocket and fall to the ground. I was torn between picking it up and staying focused on the angry goddess before me.
I stayed still and said, “So you know.”
“Did you not think I would find out?”
“Took you long enough,” I said, placing my hand at the back of my waist. I could feel the revolver’s tacky grip brush against my sweaty fingers. “Some goddess.”
Guess I was still feeling a little bold, since about fifteen feet of water separated us. Even Lucille was surprised by the insult, for she took a step back and allowed the sword to dip ever so slightly. Which was when I did something dumb. Or smart, depending on the outcome. Remember what I said about bravery?
I drew the gun and fired the remaining bullet. The round grazed Lucille’s cheek, but she looked more concerned about my sudden ability to use firearms. Using the opening, I plunged my hand into my pocket and felt the warm glow of the coin against my fingers. With a quick flick of the wrist, I hurled the magical coin at her head. It blazed with burning energy like a little comet as it spiraled across the creek. The enchanted piece of treasure smashed against her cheek, singing the skin like someone had stamped out a cigarette. Lucille screamed as the skin burned like a paper singed by ember. The magic, whatever the hell it was, briefly revealed her true nature. Even the plain woman was just a façade. Her face and body were scarred by her less-than-noble deeds. The marks crisscrossed her face, as if someone had tied her to a post and lashed her until she bled.
Perhaps someone had. That wasn’t my concern. I hopped in the gentle creek and swam across.
I flicked out the Reaper’s Switch, the blade glinting in the slivers of light trickling through the treetops. Lucille was still grasping at her face. I charged forward, aiming the blade at her chest, right above the heart. She looked up just in time, her crazed eyes looking out from behind the scars and sinew.
She turned, and the Switch nicked off her shoulder, cleaving a hunk of flesh and the slightest bit of her soul. I watched the physical soul pirouette through the leafy expanse, and dove to catch it. The chunk of flesh landed safely in my palm.
“I will kill you, Reaper!” The goddess’s screams shook the forest like a cyclone, turning the sky an apocalyptic shade of black. I scrambled to my feet and dove into the cool waters that now roiled and thrashed. Carried away by the suddenly churning current, I struggled to keep my head above water as Lucille’s threats disappeared into the distant jungle. With the last of my energy, I shoved the Reaper’s Switch and soul shard into my pockets, praying they’d survive the churn.
Then I plunged beneath the surface and the world disappeared.
23
Atheas, 2014
I came to in the back of a luxury SUV in a delirious state of utter confusion, like life itself had been a lie, and I was suddenly seeing the world for the first time. Part of that was true: I was seeing this world for the first time. Through the tinted windows, I could see banana trees and orchids lining the road. Then the driver jerked the wheel around a tight corner, and I found myself tumbling against the hard plastic arm rest.
The man next to me said, “Glad you’re finally awake.” His tone was slightly relieved, like it hadn’t been a sure thing. He brushed a finger through his close-cropped black hair, making sure it was in place. A well-tailored suit wrapped around his sharp, lean figure. He was no older than thirty.
Another man, this one older, leaned back from the front seat. He had a thin patch of hair attached to his pale head. His dead eyes barely skimmed me as he said, “Master Aldric, we’ll arriving at the destination in twenty minutes.”
I tasted something foul and ashen in my mouth and tried to spit. The man in the front seat displayed a row of jagged teeth in a frowning sneer. It felt like the taste was coming from him, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Just in time.” The man who was, apparently, ‘Master Aldric,’ settled against the smooth leather. “Have you considered a name?”
A silence hung over the interior as the car bounced over the road. Eventually, when no one answered, I realized he was speaking to me.
I glanced sideways at him, unsure whether I should look him in the eye. “A name?”
“Well, you can’t be Emma Miller, now, can you?” Aldric peered down at a leather wallet I’d received for Christmas when I was 17. I knew the picture inside well—I was beaming like the world couldn’t stop me. Apparently, things had gone off the rails somewhere along the way, because the last thing I remembered was…
New Orleans. The blade going in my body from the faceless man. Telling
me I’d wake up in paradise. The interim time seemed like a bad dream, available in only snatches of images and fleeting memories.
I finally said, “But that’s my name.” My voice sounded timid and uncertain. Nothing like what I’d tried to cultivate over the last ten years. But any skills I’d had were on ice, disoriented and terrified as I was. I was just little old Emma, who never knew the right thing to say.
“You are trying my patience.” Aldric mashed his finger against the window button and tossed the wallet out on the road. I heard the chatter of monkeys and exotic birds drift through the open window until he snapped it shut, returning the interior to its vacuum-like silence. “A name.”
I blinked and sat upright, some reserve of stoicism telling me to put it together. The words came together as if from a source of divine inspiration. “Eden Hunter.”
“Interesting choice.” Aldric tapped the person in the front seat and offered him a card. I could see that it was my driver’s license. But I hadn’t seen the man remove it from the wallet before chucking it out the window. Those were some quick hands—quicker than mine.
Too quick to be human, maybe.
I swallowed the thought, and watched as the pale man in the front seat accepted the ID. He mumbled an incantation and removed a small pinch of a substance that smelled like melting plastic. After dumping it on the card, there was a small flash of blue light and a puff of smoke. Without comment, he handed the license back to Aldric, who then tossed it to me.
It landed in my lap. I stared at the picture. Gone was the smiling girl. In her stead was a woman who looked either stern or confused. I was going with the latter, since the woman was me, and the photograph had—somehow—been taken right then. With trembling fingers, I took the card and held it up to the window.
There was my new name. Eden Hunter. A new state that I had never heard of, too.
“A-atheas?” I pronounced it like Athens.
Rain Dance (Sunshine & Scythes Book 1) Page 18