Days of Borrowed Pasts

by S. M. Schmitz

  A lightning bolt struck the fence directly to Ayla’s left, and pieces of the fence exploded into charred daggers that pelted her body. Her heart beat so hard and so quickly, she thought surely it must be visible to others, as if it somehow leapt through her chest. But she draped Leon’s arm around her shoulders and stepped toward the blindingly white light that streamed from the open portal.

  The winds changed directions again, attempting to push the lost gods away from the door, but they gripped Leon’s bloody shirt, pulling him closer to their escape, and jumped in.

  The portal closed behind them, and Ayla helped Leon to the floor then shrugged the straps of her backpack off her shoulders. It was drenched, and water still dripped from it, creating its own rainstorm. Her fingers hovered over the zipper, trembling with anger and sadness and fear and the exhaustion from the adrenaline rush fading now that they were away from Odin’s army.

  “Oh, Ayla,” Thomas sighed. “We’ll salvage as much as we can. Surely there’s…”

  He trailed off as he looked around, perhaps trying to figure out where they were.

  “It’s all right, Thomas,” Ayla said, and her voice trembled with her fingers. “This is the third time I’ve gotten soaked in the past week. I think the universe is obviously trying to tell me to let go of all this.”

  “Or it’s just a coincidence,” Thomas countered. “Or a message to get a waterproof bag.”

  Ayla smiled even though that sadness seemed to pierce through her, darkening even her soul. Leon moaned as he lay back on the carpeted floor and closed his eyes. “This really hurts,” he complained. “What the hell was that thing?”

  “Um… I think that was Fenrir,” Thomas answered.

  Ayla snickered then realized he was serious. “Wait, like the Fenrir? The monster that Tyr lost his hand to? The one that’s supposedly bound until Ragnarok?”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking they didn’t bind it well enough,” Thomas said smartly.

  Ayla’s mouth fell open but no sound emerged. Leon wasn’t as dumbstruck and snapped, “What the hell is wrong with you gods? Why would you allow something like that to live?”

  “Well, it’s obviously a good weapon,” Thomas snapped back.

  “A wolf,” Ayla murmured. “A monstrous wolf. Maybe this is Ragnarok.”

  “I’m not sure what it is,” Thomas said. “It’s not from this world, so it doesn’t really resemble any animal we’re familiar with. I don’t think it’s really part wolf either. Nordic men described it like that because they didn’t have any kind of reference for it.”

  Leon grimaced and touched his bloody shoulder. “Whatever it is, its claws hurt like hell.”

  “You’ll live,” Thomas told him.

  “Think those claws are poisonous?” Leon asked. “He smelled like he’d be poisonous.”

  Ayla snorted and began opening drawers on the desk beside her, hoping to find something she could use for bandages. They’d apparently jumped into an office. “Where do you think Aphrodite and Melanie went?” she said.

  “Dude,” Leon murmured, “she is so hot. Did you really date her?”

  Ayla glanced at Thomas, who was glaring at the wounded hunter now. She hated that she was jealous of Aphrodite’s connection to this lost god. Why should it bother her?

  “Aphrodite will find us,” Thomas answered.

  “Those gods,” Leon said. “They wanted to capture you both. We were outnumbered, and it should have been easy for them to kill you.”

  “Yeah,” Thomas agreed, “and I don’t like where this is heading.”

  Ayla found a first aid kit in the bottom drawer and tossed it to Thomas so he could bandage Leon’s wounds. “There’s only one reason they’d want a couple of lost gods like us,” she said quietly. “They’ve figured it out, too. They’re trying to reopen the veil.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I dream, and a land stretches endlessly before me, pockmarked with smoldering craters and stumps of burned trees. Ash falls from the sky like snow, blanketing the ground in gray dust. I tip my face toward the sun and scream, for it has turned a deep crimson — the color of blood.

  Ayla awoke with a start and sat up, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she looked around the room and tried to remember where she was. Another motel, this one in Tallahassee. A soft tapping noise at her door startled her and she realized it wasn’t the first time she’d heard it. Maybe that’s what had awoken her. She pushed her blankets aside and crept to the door. Thomas stood on the other side, holding something in his hand but she couldn’t tell what it was through the peephole.

  “Thomas,” Ayla whispered as she opened the door. “It’s almost one in the morning. What are you doing here?”

  He smiled at her and handed her a notebook and a box of zipper bags. “I told you I’d help you.”

  Ayla sighed and locked the door behind him. “It’s all ruined. There’s nothing left to salvage.”

  “Then recreate it,” he offered. “As much as you can remember.”

  Ayla ran her fingers over the notebook’s cover and thanked him, but her heart wasn’t in journaling at the moment. Her mind was still trapped in an apocalyptic wasteland.

  “Are you all right?” Thomas asked.

  She turned on a lamp and sat at the small, round table near the window. “I was having a nightmare. I’m glad you came by and broke me out of that dream.”

  Thomas shuffled his feet as if nervous and said, “What kind of nightmare?”

  “Everything was destroyed. I think it was supposed to be Earth, but there was nothing left, and even the sun…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Looked like it was bleeding?” Thomas finished.

  Ayla gasped and opened her eyes. “How did you know that?”

  “Because I had the same nightmare. That’s why I’m here. I didn’t want to go back to sleep, and I didn’t want to be alone. Figured I’d rather be the jerk that wakes you up than sitting there obsessing over a dream that felt far too real.”

  Ayla swallowed and nodded. “So we both had the same nightmare… it’s a warning.”

  Thomas blew a frustrated breath through his lips and sat in the chair across from her. “If somebody is sending us warnings, I wish they’d be a little more clear in their intentions. What does it even mean?”

  “Everyone thinks we have the power to destroy the world. Maybe it’s just a reminder to be careful.”

  “Like we need to be reminded destroying the world would be bad?” he retorted.

  Ayla shrugged. “Or someone’s trying to scare us.”

  “Yeah, well, it worked. I’m officially scared.”

  “Me, too,” she admitted. “Did you recognize any of the other gods that attacked us? Some were speaking Norse, but I heard other languages, too.”

  Thomas ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “There’s a reason Aphrodite was able to escape.”

  “Ares,” Ayla whispered. “Aphrodite’s brother was there.”

  “Yep. And he apparently still hates me.”

  “Why do you think the gods are trying to cross the veil now? After all these centuries?”

  Thomas shrugged and picked up a puzzle box that Ayla had set on the motel’s table to dry. “What is this?”

  Ayla snatched it out of his hand and repeated her question, so Thomas glanced over at her and flashed a mischievous smile. “I think it’s because humans have gotten so much more dangerous. When this war started, we were fighting humans who were armed with muskets and swords. Now, they have weapons so deadly, a lot of gods are starting to think we might actually lose one day.”

  “Yeah,” Ayla sighed. “But truthfully, we all will.”

  “Here,” Thomas said, handing her an old, leather-bound book with yellowed pages.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “Leon knows where each League headquarters is, but not what’s in them. There are two in the U.S., Boston and a newer one in San Francisco that was built once this country expanded
westward. This book —”

  “Where did you get this book?” Ayla interrupted.

  Thomas grinned at her. “The Leagues aren’t guarding their libraries as closely as their weapons or ingredients for their spells.”

  Ayla’s mouth dropped open, and Thomas laughed like he broke into the Leagues’ buildings all the time. “You’re going to get yourself killed!” she finally exclaimed.

  Thomas waved her off. “Both the League and Odin’s army are after us. If we want to cross the veil, we’re going to have to start taking risks.”

  Ayla folded her arms and frowned at him. “Getting killed won’t get you there either. The least you can do is tell me you’re about to venture into some reckless endeavor so I can go with you in case you need rescuing.”

  Thomas grinned at her again and asked, “Are you my knight in shining armor? I think I’d like being a helpless… what’s the gender equivalent of damsel?”

  Ayla tilted her head at him and searched her English dictionary, because this was clearly the most important thing for them to discuss at the moment. “Bachelor?” she guessed.

  “Bachelor?” he repeated. “Well, that’s stupid. If you’re going to be my knight in shining armor, I want a better title than bachelor.”

  Ayla nodded. “And I’m your goddess in shining armor.”

  “If this is the way we strategize, I’m beginning to think Leon will die of old age before we have the chance to open the veil.”

  “Probably,” Ayla pretended to agree. “Okay, so you stole a book and found something worth sharing at 12:30 in the morning. No more interruptions. Or I’ll try at least.”

  Thomas pushed the book toward her and tapped the notes in the margin. “Gold. But not just any gold. After all, they wanted to make this spell as difficult to recreate as possible.”

  “Wait,” Ayla said. “You found a book in their library with the spell’s ingredients? I thought it was all oral and only the League Masters knew it?”

  “It doesn’t actually have the spell,” Thomas explained. “Just what’s in each League’s vault. The only reason we know what those seemingly innocuous items will do is that Leon told us about reopening the veil. If anyone else read this, it would just seem like a bunch of riddles for random stuff. I haven’t really had a chance to read through it all, but it seemed super important and was the only book in a highly secure vault, so it has to be extremely valuable to the League, right?”

  “If you’re right and it contains the ingredients to reopen the veil, why write it down at all?” Ayla persisted. “Something this important… why take the risk?”

  “Don’t know,” Thomas admitted. “Maybe for no other reason than an escalation of the war could result in everyone who knows the spell dying, so they left enough clues for future generations of hunters to piece together the original spell. But I’ve already looked at Tonnerre’s and Sassaria’s entries, and they both describe what Leon and I found there: an extinct plant and an extinct animal.”

  “So this gold,” Ayla said. “It can’t be from the Gold Rush. That happened after the veil was already closed.”

  “The California Gold Rush was in the mid-nineteenth century, but not the Brazilian one. And since there isn’t a headquarters in Brazil, they’re storing some of that gold in the next most logical place.”

  Ayla quickly read the text, a riddle about the shifting of Earth’s treasures, and shook her head. “Even if you’re right, what good does knowing what’s inside each vault do?”

  “Because we may be able to track down some of these ingredients without going near their vaults,” Thomas explained. “They couldn’t possibly have found every ounce of gold mined from Brazil in the 1720s.”

  “The League has enormous resources,” Ayla insisted. “I think they’ve probably come close.”

  But Thomas was undeterred. “We’ll figure out each riddle, list each ingredient from easiest to obtain to most difficult, then go in order. I’ll get you home, Ayla.”

  Ayla gasped and pulled her hand away from the book. “What did you say?” she whispered.

  Thomas glanced up from the book at her and admitted, “I’m not actually sure. Before the nightmare, I woke up from a dream where I was on a beach with my mother, only when she spoke to me, it wasn’t her voice. And she just kept saying, ‘Please bring Ayla home, Thomas.’”

  Ayla’s hotel room suddenly seemed too hot, too small and confining. She tugged at the collar of her t-shirt and rose to her feet, but where could she go? And could Thomas possibly already know about her mother, leading her into a trap she didn’t yet understand?

  But those words… those words he’d claimed were in his dreams were so close to her mother’s whispers in her mind when she’d insisted Thomas would lead her home.

  “Ayla, I upset you, and I’m sorry. I just woke up having to do something and decided to check out the library in Tonnerre. They’ve diverted a lot of their guards to the greenhouse and armory, but as soon as I heard voices in the hallway, I got out of there. Humans may have numerical superiority, but gods can talk to us beyond the veil and I think someone may be trying to talk to me about reopening it.”

  Ayla’s heart leapt into her throat, and her legs weakened. She lowered herself back into the chair and when she asked him who he thought was trying to communicate with him, her voice sounded like the child’s she used to be so many lifetimes ago.

  “I don’t know,” he claimed, but he looked uncomfortable, suspecting, perhaps, exactly whose voice he’d heard.

  Ayla pretended to read the book again, but it was only to effect an air of nonchalance. If he wouldn’t mention her mother first, then she certainly wouldn’t bring her up.

  “Anyway,” Thomas said, gesturing toward the book. “Let’s figure out where Brazilian gold might be. eBay?”

  Ayla snickered. “I’d definitely trust random sellers on eBay. Maybe we should try auction houses.”

  “I knew I liked you for a reason,” Thomas said.

  Ayla’s cheeks warmed, and she dug her phone from her backpack to distract herself. “Lets’ search now,” she suggested. “Stealing from Christie’s is a hell of a lot easier than stealing from the Leagues.”

  “Should we get Leon?” Thomas asked.

  “How well do you really know him?” Ayla asked back. Part of her was beginning to trust this lost god if for no other reason than she finally wasn’t completely alone, but the supposedly former hunter would never be anything but a god killer to her.

  “Don’t trust him, do you?” Thomas said. “Believe me, I didn’t at first either. I’ve known him for a few years, and if he had some other agenda, he’s had plenty of opportunities to stab me in the back. Literally.”

  “But what if his agenda is to find the remaining lost gods?” Ayla pressed. “If we’re the reason he’s made up this elaborate lie about opening the veil and needing the blood of lost gods, maybe he’s hoping we’ll lead him to the last of us.”

  Thomas lowered his eyes and sighed. “Maybe,” he relented. “Perhaps we should find someone who’s psychic. It may be the only way we’ll ever know for sure whether Leon is telling the truth.”

  “If he’s really running from the League, why did he have a house in Nashville anyway?”

  “He was renting,” Thomas answered. “But you’re right. We’ll be more careful until we know we can trust him.”

  Ayla reached across the table and placed her hand over his. “If we want to survive, Thomas, we’ll both have to change how we’ve been dealing with hunters and gods alike. We’re going to figure out if this spell can actually work, and if we have to become the gods everyone has long feared, so be it. I need to go home.”

  “Okay,” Thomas promised. “No matter what, I’ll get you there, Ayla, even if it means becoming the gods we never wanted to be.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The sun beckons me, calling me home. I hear her voice as she whispers my name, and in the evenings as she closes her tired eyes, she reaches for the moon. And
I am reborn.

  Thomas had asked Ayla to hide the book he’d stolen from the Tonnerre library in her backpack, and they’d agreed not to tell Leon about it. When he asked how they’d decided one of the missing ingredients was gold from the Brazilian gold rush, Thomas told him he’d called in a favor with a god who lived in San Francisco and owned a nightclub in North Beach.

  Leon looked up at him from his breakfast, his hand freezing mid-bite, and asked, “How would he know? Don’t you gods move around every decade or so to avoid people noticing you don’t age?”

  Thomas shrugged, but as a former hunter, Leon knew far more about gods than most humans. “It’s a nightclub, Leon. How many people does he really need to interact with? He has a manager and accountant. And come on — you know people pretend not to notice all sorts of stuff if they’re being paid well enough.”

  “Okay,” Leon said. “That still doesn’t explain how he knows what’s in the San Francisco vault.”

  “No,” Thomas agreed, “it doesn’t. Like I said: it’s what he thinks is there based on rumors.”

  “We should talk to this guy,” Leon decided. He went back to his breakfast as if the matter was settled, and Ayla shot Thomas a “What now?” glance.

  Thomas did know a god in San Francisco, but he obviously hadn’t gotten any information from him. And he certainly wouldn’t tolerate a hunter showing up at his door.

  “If you want us to talk to him, we will,” Thomas said. “But you can’t just go around expecting gods to accept you’re no longer hunting them. Or to forgive you for hunting in the past. You’ll start a bloodbath in San Francisco.”

  Leon waved him off and insisted, “That’s why you call him back and explain our situation.”

  “No,” Thomas said. “You aren’t going. Hell, there’s no reason for Ayla and me to go either. If he had anything else he wanted to tell us, he would have.”