Hunt of the Gods

by Amy Braun

  It was swept aside by a wave of Ares’s fire. The God of War roared and charged past me, hacking his sword wildly at Apollo’s barriers. But he didn’t move toward Apollo. Ares’s seemed content to hammer away at the barrier of light.

  My neck burned. Because he knows I have no choice but to back him up.

  “Derek!”

  I glanced over my shoulder. Corey had returned, his face glistening with sweat, his limbs trembling, and his face pale.

  He gawked and the chaos, shuddered at the bloody grief of Kallis and his murdered children, then looked at me.

  “I can only make one more trip!”

  I wanted to tell him to take me before Ares got me killed. But Ares would know, and he would find me with the War Pact. He would put Corey on his shit list, and gods only knew how long he would survive.

  And Kallis, who was mourning over his children, holding them so tight…

  “Take Kallis,” I called to Corey.

  I didn’t give him a chance to change my mind. I turned back to the madness of Ares and Apollo and worked on knitting fire and aether together.

  The magic spiked and spat. My own body shivered with the intensity of blending the opposing magics. Finally, I forced them together, but I had only managed to create six warped spheres of aether and fire. I tried to drag them upward, to form them into a cohesive shape, but the magic refused to act on my wishes. For all the power Ares gave me, it wasn’t enough.

  I reached for Ki̱demónas. The spear snapped into my hand, vibrating with energy. It greedily drank the new magic humming through my body. I wrapped strands of aether and fire around the spear and stabbed it into the earth.

  The magic burst off the spear and coated the six circles I’d made. More magic hammered through my blood, all but breaking me apart. Through the intensity, I focused on drawing those six spheres up, giving them limbs and heads. I made the picture as vivid as I could, forgetting about the gods battling with light and flame ahead of me. I didn’t think about anyone I’d left behind, where they were, or what they would do when Kallis and his dead children showed up instead of me.

  In that moment, there was only magic.

  Raw, glorious magic.

  And then they were there, my soldiers of fire and aether. The shadowfires stretched upward, hands resting loosely at their sides. They had no facial features, no sex, nothing to distinguish them from a typical shadow, save for the circle of fire burning in the middle of their chests.

  Invigorated, I pushed my hand outward. Attack Apollo.

  The shadowfire soldiers charged without a cry or protest. They weren’t living creatures. They were drones, machines. Unfeeling entities that served my will. They had no fear, no excitement, nothing to make them human at all.

  They didn’t even know what Apollo was when they launched themselves at him.

  The God of Light pushed a blast of light at Ares, forcing my forefather away. Then Apollo turned to my soldiers. With a quick flick of his wrist, a scythe of light cut them all in half.

  My chest squeezed with Berserker Rage as I watched their smoking halves tumble to the stone floor. Ki̱demónas shuddered, and I drew on its magic. I imagined those halves coming back together, rising, and wielding my own powers.

  The halves reconnected. Rose. Lashed out with whips of aether and gouts of fire. Apollo battered them with spears and whips of light. He deftly avoided their attacks and cut them down without taking a scratch.

  But my soldiers were proving to be invincible. So long as I could see their pieces, they would knit back together.

  Ki̱demónas wrenched vigorously, the way it did when I was running low on magic. Strong and determined as my soldiers were, they couldn’t hold Apollo off for much longer. The Rage teased against my ribs, whispering for me to let it out, to give in… but I couldn’t. I needed to concentrate.

  Ares appeared like a flaming comet. He leaped from where he’d been standing and slashed at Apollo with his sword.

  The blade cut across Apollo’s chest.

  The God of Light reared back, an outraged scream tearing from his lips. Ares smiled at the sight of his brother’s gold blood.

  The wounds didn’t seem to be mortal—it took more than a few cuts to kill an Olympian—but the opening was exactly what I needed. The shadowfire creatures scrambled on top of Apollo. They leashed him with aether and locked their smoky limbs around him. Apollo kept screaming, thrashing, spraying immortal blood everywhere. He burst into golden fire. The light swelled outward, filling the cavern, pressing along its edges, cracking and burning. It moved as fast as I could blink. One, two, and then it barreled into me.

  The light struck my chest and closed around me like a fist. Pain exploded through my body, stabbing and scorching. I convulsed, frantically trying to get away from Apollo’s blistering magic.

  But it was all I could see, all I could feel. I could even taste it, and it tasted like raw fire.

  Agony stabbed into my ears and jabbed my skull. Wetness dripped from my mouth, nose, ears, and eyes. I tasted copper and saw red.

  I must have closed my eyes, because the world went suddenly dark. I coughed and gagged, my head spun, and my body throbbed. I rolled to my side and coughed up lungfuls of blood. I swiped my free hand along my face, shuddering at all the blood that came with it.

  Gods above and below. I’m dead.

  “You are not dead.”

  I froze. I didn’t know that voice.

  I gripped Ki̱demónas and swiped upward.

  My head spun, and I crumpled to the ground. My breath came in ragged gasps, and blood dripped from my mouth.

  Yet as I lay on the floor, I realized I wasn’t where I thought I was. The floor I was on was rougher, grittier, and hadn’t been carved up by Selena in a past life.

  It was also cold. True, I was losing blood, which makes a person feel cold, but there was no way it was so cold in the cavern after all of Ares’s flames. Was it?

  Where the hell am I?

  Immense pressure and power filled the air.

  Not the kind of power that could be wielded by any mortal.

  Dark skirts swept in front of me. Their owner knelt and peered into my eyes.

  My gaze was darkening again as she looked at me. I could barely make out any details, but I knew she was beautiful.

  Smooth, pale fingers touched my cheek. The woman spoke, each word dragging me back into darkness.

  “You will not die, my son. I will not allow you to.”

  I NEED TO stop blacking out like this.

  Once again, I woke in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. It was the strangest by far. The bed was comprised of four elegantly carved posters and was curtained with gauzy gray silk. The sheets were warm and sinfully soft. I’d never been in a bed so comfortable.

  I sat up with a groan and cast my eyes around the room. It was dark and gothic, decorated with brocade wallpaper and adorned with silver sconces. A fireplace had been set in the wall directly across from me, glowing with amber light. Against the wall on my right was a gorgeous carved cabinet and a door connecting to what I assumed was a bathroom. Next to the door was an open corridor that led to an office filled with leather sofas and shelves of books.

  I looked to the left. There was another lounge area with a glass-and-silver coffee table, plush sofas, and an angry brother brooding in the shadows.

  His bruises were gone, and the cut on his temple had healed. He even seemed to have showered and found new clothes, though they definitely weren’t his. He wore a loose black tunic embroidered with silver thread, loose black pants, and bare feet. He looked entirely unlike himself. I recognized the clothing from somewhere, but I just couldn’t place it.

  A small plate was on the table in front of him. It was heaped with dried meat, cheese, grapes, oranges, and pomegranates. A glass goblet of full of wine rested next to the plate. Liam picked at the food and drank a little wine.

  “You’re underage.”

  Liam peered at me over the goblet. “You’r
e determined to drive me to an early grave, so I’m indulging now.”

  I pushed myself up. The sheets fell around me, and I realized someone had dressed me in the same clothing as Liam. I frowned. I didn’t like that someone had undressed and redressed me while I was unconscious.

  Liam set the goblet down with a noticeable thunk.

  “Explain,” was all he said. He likely thought that if he said another word, he’d lose all self-control and sanity.

  He was probably right.

  So I sat up, turned to face him, and told him everything I could. I told him how aether had suddenly emerged when I fought the manticore. I told him how much stronger it made me, and how Ki̱demónas reacted when I used it. I told him that I feared I was the man from the Prophecy, the Bringer, and that Athena, Ares, and Apollo were the only gods who knew that I could use aether. I didn’t know for sure that they realized I was the general of the shadowfire army in the Prophecy, but I’d have been more surprised if they hadn’t come to that conclusion.

  When I was finished, Liam stared at me for what felt like an eternity, processing everything I had said. I let him. I was still struggling to understand it myself.

  But do you really care? It makes you stronger. Saves your life and the lives of people you care about. Does it matter where the power comes from?

  I knew the answer was “Yes.” Of course it mattered. I had to figure out why I had a power as dangerous as aether. Using it without knowing where it came from was a mistake.

  At the same time, I didn’t really want to know why I could use aether so readily, with the same ease as someone like Alastor Gage, who had been the heir of Hades. The answer wasn’t going to bring my any joy.

  “You knew about this for two months,” Liam said, his voice straining to stay calm, “and you didn’t tell us? You didn’t tell me?”

  “I meant to,” I answered honestly. “But every time I thought it might be the right time, you and Selena just seemed so happy, and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

  “I don’t know whether that’s endearing or infuriating,” he groused. “I’ve gone through hell with you, and Selena’s got a steel spine. We would have listened to you and figured out how to break you of it.”

  I glanced down and nodded, unwilling to admit that I didn’t think I could be freed from aether. And that I wasn’t sure I wanted to be.

  “I know.” I looked up. “And I’m sorry.”

  Liam sighed. He plucked a grape from the table and twisted it between his fingers. “You say that all the time.”

  “Liam—”

  “Apollo and Ares were going at it, and Corey came back to get you. You told him to take Kallis instead.”

  He looked at me, barely hiding the emotions that must have been warring inside him. His reluctance to berate me was a sign that I’d broken something between us.

  “That was beyond my control,” I said defensively. “Ares used the War Pact. He wasn’t going to let me leave, and I didn’t want Corey to be on his radar more than he already is. And Kallis… you didn’t see him, Liam. I couldn’t leave him there. Not like that.”

  Liam went quiet then said, “We did see him. Corey made sure he and his kids got out. He’s locked up for now, until we decide what to do with him, but…”

  He looked at me, his eyes burning and earnest. Worried and sad.

  “You would have done it anyway, wouldn’t you? With or without the Pact. You would have saved Kallis and stayed behind, even if Ares hadn’t commanded you.”

  I felt the lie build on my tongue. I could have given it to him and expected him to accept it. But I was already losing his trust. I couldn’t risk losing more of it.

  “Honestly, I don’t know, Liam.”

  His face shut down, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I didn’t even try to reach him through the blood bond.

  “When you didn’t show up, I…” Liam shifted in his chair and wrapped his arms around his chest. I watched his fingers close around his biceps, his nails no doubt pinching his skin.

  “I thought you’d died,” he whispered. “I was trying to get you out of there, but you saved me, instead. Corey brought me here, then you didn’t show up, and when I saw you in here, you had so much blood on your face.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and forced a deep breath out. My near death had rattled him.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  Liam rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. He sighed. “How did you summon those soldiers? You said they were called shadowfires? Dark scions can summon shadowmen with the proper enchantments, but those are just humanoids made of aether. And you… you didn’t need anything. You called, and they came.”

  He was still stalling. He wasn’t ready to forgive me.

  “Maybe there are other ways of calling them,” I said. “Gage was able to do it.”

  “Gage didn’t need an enchantment because he was an heir.” Liam blinked. “Oh.”

  But I was shaking my head. “He was the heir of Hades. I’m the heir of Ares. There’s never been an heir of two bloodlines before.”

  Yet even as I said the words, I doubted them. I was an anomaly, after all. I could wield two different magics. Who was I to say what was possible and what wasn’t?

  Liam sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “Why do all the most impossible things happen to you?”

  I looked at my brother warily. “You’re not going to berate me some more?”

  “Oh, trust me, dude, part of me wants to. But… this is something you got snared in. You didn’t choose it.” He looked at my neck. “Even the War Pact wasn’t really a choice.”

  I was even more wary. “That’s odd—and nice—to hear from you.”

  Liam shrugged. “Blame Selena. She has a way of making me see reason.”

  My stomach knotted at the very thought of her. “How is she?”

  Liam raised a hand and waggled it. “She says she’s fine. Maybe she thinks if she says it enough, we’ll all believe it.”

  Meaning she wasn’t doing well at all. The way her past had been revealed her, to all of us, had been beyond cruel and too much to endure. She’d held herself together earlier because we’d needed to fight and escape. We didn’t need to do that anymore.

  I pushed myself to the edge of the bed and sat up. It felt good to stretch my legs. “What about the others?”

  “Everyone’s okay, physically. Corey’s probably still sleeping, Thea is brooding by herself, and I don’t think I could find Selena if I tried. Mason’s doing the best, honestly. He’s been eating his weight in the sanctuary’s food and flirting with anyone who crosses his path.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Did you say sanctuary?”

  “Yeah. Dude, you’re not going to believe where we are.”

  He was right. I didn’t believe it until we’d left my borrowed room and made our way through the shrine. The dark, gothic nature of the shrine became more apparent, and as I looked closer, I realized that Liam wasn’t trying to prank me.

  Sigils were embedded into carvings, statues, and metals. They were subtle, small, and easy to miss had I not been for them. But I understood what they meant.

  Pomegranates and their seeds—the symbols of Persephone, wife of Hades and Queen of the Underworld.

  We were in Persephone’s Haven, six hundred miles north of Santa Monica. Haven was a small community north of the Persephone and Hades Region in the northern corner of the state. Originally, after the Re-Emergence, Hades had obtained a massive piece of land for his followers. Persephone’s Haven had been little more than a block inside the original Region. Hades had not wanted his precious wife far from his side, let alone to have her own independence.

  Her followers, the sorrow scions, took great issue with that.

  They declared that while she was married to Hades, part of her identity was that she was a goddess who spent half of every year on earth and out of the Underworld. To take that piece of her would be to take her pot
ency as a goddess. Thousands of sorrow scions marched to Sacramento, where Zeus had stationed himself, and pleaded to the King of the Olympians to extend more freedoms to Persephone.

  Likely remembering what happened the last time Persephone was denied rights, Zeus complied. He negotiated with Hades and arranged for Persephone to have the northern-most corner of California—right from the state line and down the coast to Weaverville—all to herself and her sorrow scions. She still needed to abide by her bi-yearly duties on both earth and the Underworld, and when she was on earth, her time would need to be split again so she could act as Queen of the Underworld for Hades’s dark scions in the Region she shared with her husband. It was extremely rare that Hades came to earth to manage his own Region, so when he couldn’t do it, Persephone had to.

  And that turned out to be a smart move as well. Persephone was a popular goddess, beloved for her kindness and beauty. She was nowhere near as powerful as the other Olympians, and nor were her scions.

  Sorrow scions were not known for being warriors or arrogant or vain. They preferred to stay in the shadows and do work that would earn the love of their mistress.

  They worked in all manner of positions, but many were grief and mental health counselors. They worked with grieving families and provided shelters and orphanages for anyone who was lost or unwanted. While other goddesses like Artemis, Athena, and Aphrodite offered safety to anyone in their Regions, the Haven was the only place where that safety came with complete anonymity. Its borders were all but impenetrable, and that was assuming you were able to get through the harsh barriers of Hades’s Region, which completely surrounded the small area that Persephone had claimed for herself.

  As we walked through the somber halls and down a spiraling staircase, Liam told me what happened after I passed out.

  “When I arrived, some guards were shouting at the others, asking who we were. Corey tried to explain that he’d been here before. He’d done some pro bono work moving people in and out of the Haven, people who were being abused and couldn’t escape, that kind of thing. The guards were still yelling as I walked up to Corey’s side, and then… it was weird.”