“Are we sure this is a realm of the dead?” Nemain asked. “It seems to be missing something… like dead people.”
“Maybe they moved,” Badb guessed. “You have to admit: This isn’t exactly prime real estate.”
A breeze finally stirred around them, icy cold fingers that brushed against Hanna’s bare arms. She shivered and stepped closer to her father, who handed her a torch. But the breeze turned into a gusty wind and extinguished the flames, throwing the gods into darkness again. Cameron grunted and relit the torch, and again, a frigid gust extinguished it.
“Try flashlights,” Badb suggested.
“I am so kicking this wind’s ass,” he mumbled.
“I’d like to see that,” Prometheus said.
“You might have to settle for the god controlling the wind,” Hanna told him.
“Unless that’s Veles,” Athena argued. “Since Tartarus called dibs on kicking his ass.”
“Are we going to stand by the wall arguing about whether or not it’s possible to kick a wind’s ass, or are we actually going to look for Veles?” Macha asked.
“It’s not possible, and yes, we’re going to look for him,” Hanna answered then thought about it and added, “As soon as Dad gives us flashlights.”
Cameron handed her a flashlight then shouted at the wind, “Happy?”
Hanna snickered and flicked on her flashlight, and for a brief moment, the underworld was illuminated at her feet. But the ground began to shake as if Athena had been wrong after all, and tectonic plates had not only formed the mountain in the distance but were shifting now, causing a powerful earthquake that would have toppled buildings if any existed there.
Flashlights slipped from fingers and rolled along the grassy terrain that continued to shudder, and the yellow beams of light bobbed uneasily and shakily, casting eerie shadows onto the wall behind them. Hanna dropped to the ground, running her fingers through the grass as she reached for her flashlight. The darkness surrounding them briefly illuminated, the sky opening with streaks of white like portals into another world.
Lightning.
“This is so much worse than Hel,” Cameron said.
The yellow beam of her flashlight rolled away as the ground answered Cameron’s complaint with a rumbling jolt. Hanna sat back on her heels and tried to steady herself, and Prometheus, who’d sat next to her, reached for her hand to get her attention. He pointed to the mountain in the distance where lightning struck the peak, creating a cascade of fireworks that strained her eyes.
The Titan’s touch lingered over the ring on her finger, this gift from her father that she’d worn her entire life. It sparkled and rippled as if the stream from Murias had accompanied them to this hostile underworld. “He’s on the mountain,” she realized. “All of the spirits of the underworld may be there just waiting for us.”
“We have to draw him out,” Badb said. “Make him come to us.”
“Why would he leave a mountain where he’s easily protected?” Hanna cried. “It would be suicide.”
“Ego,” Badb explained. “Trust me: All gods can be provoked into confrontation.”
“No wonder we’re relics,” Hanna muttered.
Prometheus snorted and agreed with her, so Cameron shot him another sharp look, while Hanna pretended she didn’t notice. Her father had never been so aggravated by her choice of boyfriends—why did the thought of dating Prometheus bother him so much? She caught Badb smiling knowingly at her, so she thought, “Stay out of my head.”
Badb just kept smiling at her.
“How do we provoke him enough to force him off the mountain?” Hanna asked. “We can’t even stand.”
“You can control the entire world, Hanna,” Badb answered. “You have the power of Midir and Étain as well as Cameron and Selena. Find something in this realm to control and threaten his world with destruction.”
The faint blue glow of the stone in her ring caught her attention again, and she twisted it around her finger as she searched the dark shapes surrounding them, searching for some element she could command. Finally, a soft burbling in the east greeted her, the murmurs of a brook or stream.
“Water,” she whispered. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the proximity of the stream and its direction, the volume of water and its currents. As the ground continued to shake beneath them and the sky continued to light up in a frightening display of electric scars and the wind continued to howl in icy agony, the water in the stream swelled the banks and reversed its flow, heading up toward the mountain now instead of serving as a drain for the higher altitudes.
She followed the new source of the stream—it had once emptied into a sea beyond the gates of the underworld. Now, the sea provided a source of seemingly endless water to flood the land around the stream. Up the mountain, the stream continued to spill over the banks then gushed back to the ground, taking rocks and shrubs and small trees with it. As the water pooled at the base of the mountain, she drained it back into the stream to start the process all over. If Veles did, indeed, have his sanctuary on that mountain, she would wash it all away.
Lightning strikes moved closer, so Hanna pulled a shield of energy around her and her friends just as a bolt of lightning struck where they crouched. They had to wait for the ground to settle so they could stand again. The electricity sizzled above them and shot bright pink and blue streaks along the energy shield she’d constructed. But inside, they were insulated, protected from the wind and lightning. Only the earthquakes plagued them now.
“If I start a fire, the wind will carry it,” Cameron said. “We can get it to spread up the mountain if we can figure out how to control that wind.”
“I don’t think that’s in my repertoire,” Hanna responded.
“I can do it,” Prometheus offered. “I controlled it well enough to keep those kamikaze hummingbirds at bay.”
Cameron seemed to think about it for a few moments then nodded. “Let’s try it. If it doesn’t work, we don’t leave this cocoon.”
“It’s a cocoon now?” Badb asked. “What happened to igloos?”
“That’s only when I have a house of fire around us,” Cameron explained. “When Hanna does this, it’s an energy cocoon.”
“Light the fire, Dad,” Hanna groaned.
The grass outside of their cocoon ignited, and Prometheus redirected the wind to push it toward the mountain. Gusts retaliated, which forced the flames to twist and bend in fiery tornadoes, but the Titan bit his lip and concentrated harder on breaking through the wall of resistance that prevented Cameron’s fire from careening toward the base of the mountain.
A scream finally broke the silence of the underworld and all of the gods within the cocoon squirmed uneasily. The last thing they wanted to do was hurt innocent souls that lived in this realm. “Shouldn’t Veles protect them?” Nemain asked. “Isn’t that his job?”
“We can’t destroy a spirit in its own world,” Badb assured her. “She was probably just scared.”
But Hanna shook her head and insisted, “We only know spirits can’t be destroyed in Findias and Hades. We’ve been assuming the same must be true for every land of the dead, but everything else about this place is different. So why not this? Why not the ability to kill what’s left of a person’s life?”
“We can’t do this,” Athena shouted. “No revenge is worth destroying the spirits of countless demigods and gods. It’s dishonorable and evil. I’ll never be that kind of god.”
“None of us will be,” Prometheus agreed. “Which means Veles is safe here, and we can’t possibly touch him.”
“Veles…” Hanna murmured to herself. As more screams joined the first from Cameron’s fire and the flooding waters gushing down the mountain, Hanna sat up straighter and grabbed the Titan’s arm. “It’s not us. We’re not hurting those souls. Veles is sacrificing his own spirits. Just as Nergal stole power from those trapped in the Netherworld, Veles is destroying them to subsume their power. That’s how he’s commanding so many elements
!”
Athena pointed an accusatory finger at her best friend and yelled, “You said we could draw him out, not make him desperate to become more powerful.”
“We can,” Badb insisted. “But you keep forgetting we’re dealing with a soulless god here. He doesn’t have the ability to care about his people anymore. He cares about nothing except his own preservation, so we have to acknowledge that every rule of warfare, every modicum of decency, is gone. It’s the price he pays for surrendering his soul in exchange for immortality.”
Hanna twisted the ring around her finger again, an old nervous habit, and searched her thoughts for anything that might convince Veles to appear before them. He had to want something they could at least pretend to offer him. “Perun,” she exclaimed.
“Um… he’s dead,” Cameron responded.
But Hanna shook her head quickly. “I know. His soul should be here though, and they’re bitter enemies because Veles stole something precious from Perun… the story usually says cattle, but I think it’s more likely that he killed Perun’s son. Perun supposedly killed Veles, but his death was never permanent.”
“Wait,” Cameron interrupted. “Do you think this whole soulless thing is ancient? That he’s had this vessel hidden somewhere as long as Koschei has?”
“Possibly,” Hanna said. “And I also think old rivalries will incite even soulless gods to action.”
A god with broad shoulders and curly brown hair that hung over his shoulders appeared inside the cocoon with them, his long brown beard scratching against his shirt as he turned his head to inspect each of the gods who’d summoned him. “The Tuatha Dé aren’t satisfied with killing me once?” he asked. “You’ve come to do it again?”
“We’ve come for Veles,” Hanna explained. “And we think you can not only help us find him, but that you’d want to expel him from the underworld forever.”
“Forever?” Perun scoffed. “Girl, this is his world. There’s no permanent refuge from him.”
“Help us get him off that mountain and down here to us, and I promise you we’ll rid the underworld of him,” Hanna repeated. “He won’t escape Tartarus.”
“Tartarus,” Perun repeated quietly. He ran his fingers through his long brown beard as he seemed to think about his options, his eyes searching the mountaintop where lightning still danced around its peak. “All right. He’ll appear if I challenge him… but you’d better uphold your end of this bargain, because if he kills me, there’s no coming back… not for me.”
“We’ll keep you safe,” Prometheus assured him.
Perun waved a hand at the cocoon around them and said, “Drop this… shield.”
Hanna allowed the shield to break apart, its particles scattering in the icy gusts of wind, and Perun planted his hands on his wide hips, shouting toward the mountain, “Veles, you coward. Even in this world you can’t face me.”
A bolt of lightning struck the ground in front of them, its white-hot intensity scorching her sight and causing black flecks to float in her vision. As Hanna blinked away the spots, she heard her father moan, “You have got to be kidding me.”
Because when the smoke from the lightning striking the ground cleared, she could see what had settled in its place—a giant serpentine dragon, Veles who had come to battle his old rival in the same form as the legend… only this time, he had the advantage of immortality.
Chapter Thirteen
Cameron glanced at Perun and patted his back. “This is all you, buddy.”
“I’m just a spirit,” Perun claimed. “You’ll have to take care of him.”
“I’ve been a spirit,” Cameron countered. “And I know in lands of the dead, your body is still physical.”
“Can’t you strike him with lightning like in the story?” Selena asked.
Perun grunted and waved a hand irritably toward the sky. “Do you see that? Do you think I’m the one controlling it?”
“Oh, right,” Cameron said. “I forgot what an obnoxious asshole you are.”
Veles hissed in response, so Cameron shouted, “Just hold on a second. Believe me, you’re way past Perun on the obnoxious asshole list. You’ll get your turn.”
Not surprisingly, Veles didn’t laugh, or if he did, it wasn’t any recognizable sound. Instead, he opened his mouth and a long stream of fire shot toward Cameron. But even in this Slavic underworld, Cameron’s power trumped the dragon’s, and as the flames danced around him, the sun god crossed his arms lazily and sighed at the serpentine monster. “You’re going to regret doing that,” he warned. “You’re also going to regret making me fight yet another giant snake.”
Hanna curled her fingers into tight fists, irate that this god had tried to kill her father even though he stood beside her completely unharmed. Selena waited behind her, and she must have noticed her daughter’s expression shifting toward anger and vengeance because she placed a hand gently on her shoulder and murmured, “Watch him carefully, Love. Gods like this always make mistakes when their egos get crushed. You’ll find your chance.”
“But Dad—” Hanna whispered, and her mother squeezed her shoulder and reminded her that nothing in any world could hurt her father. And even if something could, she would immediately heal him.
Hanna exhaled slowly and let her fingers relax. Veles slithered and lurched toward them, another eruption of fire springing from his mouth. But this fire couldn’t touch Cameron either. He stood stoically in the same place, the flames parting like the Red Sea before Moses. When Veles screeched in frustration, Cameron arched an eyebrow at him and asked, “You done yet? I’m a sun god, dumbass.”
“Can we not antagonize the god trying to kill us?” Nemain hissed.
“Probably not,” Cameron answered.
Veles flapped his long wings, brown skin stretched tightly over slender bones, and his sleek, slender body rose into the air. “Selena,” Cameron warned, “deal breaker.”
“You’ve fought flying serpents before,” she reminded him.
“But I was allowed to kill those,” he argued.
“Go ahead and kill it,” Macha suggested. “He’ll just regenerate. And it will probably be easier to haul a sort-of dead body to Tartarus anyway.”
“That’s assuming he doesn’t just get a new body,” Cameron pointed out. “We never settled how this whole soulless immortality thing works.”
“Oh,” Macha said. “In that case, you probably shouldn’t kill it.”
Veles dove toward them, and Hanna resisted the urge to scream. She liked snakes as much as her father, and as a child, when they’d visit her grandfather and uncle on fishing trips in the Atchafalaya Basin of Louisiana, she’d squeal and climb into her father’s lap every time a snake’s head popped out of the muddy water. She was too old for that now, of course, but the temptation to hide behind him was there, coiling tighter and tighter inside her like a snake itself.
“Ground him,” Prometheus shouted. “We only need to prevent him from flying.”
“Whoa,” Cameron said. “Déjà vu. I had to do the exact same thing with the Gatekeeper over here the first time we encountered one of Enlil’s snakes.”
“Can you reminisce later since I’d rather not get eaten by a dragon?” Perun snapped.
“You’re dead. Does it matter?” Cameron snapped back.
Prometheus lifted a bow and arrow and let the bowstring slip from his fingertips. The arrow made a muted pfft sound as it sliced through the air, and by the time it hit its mark, the right wing of Veles, Prometheus had already placed another arrow onto the shelf, pulling the bowstring back and aiming with careful precision. The bright blue flames of her father’s Spear joined Prometheus’s second arrow as both weapons created an arced course toward Veles’s wings. Hanna’s mind raced with possibilities. The Mórrígna and Athena, four of the most feared and extraordinary supernatural warriors that ever lived, had trained her in combat, and of course, her father, whose own brilliance in battle was unparalleled, had passed on those genetics to predispose her to the quick-t
hinking and action so necessary on the battlefield.
But Veles feared nothing, because a god without a soul had nothing to fear and nothing to lose.
Hanna twisted the ring around her finger as another arrow pierced the dragon’s wing, but Veles still refused to land. The sky was too dark to see if they were even injuring the flying serpent or if they were wasting their time. The sapphire-blue waves from her ring caught her attention again, and she stared at the stone, rippling in its enchantment.
As she stared at the magical stone, she became aware of everything around her—the invisible and the minute, like the water particles in the air and the arctic gusts descending from the mountain. A thought, an idea, formed in her mind and she gently rubbed her fingers together. As she spread them apart, she touched them to her lips. Cold, icy, sharp.
She pulled more water from the air, freezing it as it coalesced in her hand, then threw the sharp shards at the dragon circling above them. When he still didn’t land, she summoned more moisture, but this time, she formed it around the dragon’s wings and turned it to ice, a heavy permafrost that dragged the serpent’s body to the ground. He landed with a heavy thump and his pink tongue slithered between his pointed teeth as he hissed angrily at the young goddess who’d forced him from the sky.
Cameron plucked his Spear from the grass where it had fallen and scowled at the dragon. “The least you can do is turn back into a guy, because if I have to haul your serpentine ass all the way to Tartarus, I will—”
“Tartarussss?” Veles hissed in response.
“And don’t ever speak while impersonating a snake again,” Cameron threatened. “Or I’ll totally cut off your tongue. Actually, Nemain will. She’s got a thing for de-tonguing giant snakes.”
“I hate you,” Nemain told him.
“No, you don’t,” he told her.
“Can I go now?” Perun asked. “I kinda feel like my job here is done.”
“One more question,” Cameron said, so Perun sighed impatiently. “Any chance you know where Veles has a vessel hidden? Maybe even heavily guarded and containing his pervy soul?”
The Last Guardian of Tara (The Guardians of Tara Book 5) Page 10