Hidden Goddess (Shadows of the Immortals Book 4)

by Marina Finlayson

  My moth had parked itself on a window ledge, resting after many vain attempts to throw itself at the lights it could see outside through the glass. Inside all was dark. I guided it gently back to the job of exploring the bedrooms, creeping under closed doors and checking out the inhabitants.

  On the second room, I struck gold. *Found him!* I whispered to Syl. *He’s two doors down from where you are now.*

  *Which direction?*

  *Right as you come out of the doorway. He’s in bed. I think he’s asleep, but it’s hard to tell.* My little moth had landed on the bed head, and I sat with it, watching the man in the bed. He wasn’t moving, so he could have been sleeping, but he could just as easily have been lying there gloating about the glory to come in the morning.

  He was lucky I wasn’t actually in the room with him; I could have happily smothered the bastard with his own pillow. Rage seared through my veins, throbbing in time with my heartbeat and the horrible pounding in my head. My life was a lie, and I needed to punish someone. Everyone I’d grown up with—my mother, my brother, my friends—had just died, in a way, wiped away in a single sentence, and my heart was breaking. Maybe they’d never been alive, but they’d felt real to me, despite my limited memories of them. How dared Hades inflict this agony on me? What could be worth this pain?

  If my suffering was supposed to save the gods, it obviously wasn’t working out according to plan. Was this the end Hades had envisaged, with Cerberus broken and himself about to be sacrificed? How the hell could he have thought this would work?

  How the hell did she think it could work? I couldn’t think of her as me—her motives were as unknowable to me as any stranger’s. I had to assume Artemis had been a willing participant in this ridiculous scheme. Surely not even Hades could have done this to his own niece without her consent.

  I sure as hell didn’t feel like a goddess. I mean, I’d known that humans didn’t normally have the kind of power I did over animals, but a goddess? Why had I spent all those months hiding in terror from a bloody fireshaper if I was a goddess? Where were my mighty powers? Look at me, lording it over a stupid moth, bending it to my divine will.

  Some goddess.

  *Could we have a little more certainty than that?* Syl sounded on edge. *I don’t want to sneak in there and have him jump up and catch me going through his pockets.*

  I clenched my fists, clamping down on the urge to yell at her. She was scared, but she was also right to be cautious. Rushing this could jeopardise everything. I wanted to wrap my hands around someone’s throat and squeeze, but now was not the time to give in to my feelings. I drew a deep breath and forced my fingers to unclench. *Let’s give it a little while to be safe.*

  I let my head fall back against the door behind me. If I was a goddess, how come the other gods couldn’t tell? He made you human so you could hunt shadow shapers. Yes, but … even my own brother? Even Apollo couldn’t recognise me? He’d said that something about me hadn’t felt quite like other humans—Jake had said the same, the first time we’d met—but it obviously didn’t feel godlike, whatever it was. I mean, I knew the gods could change form at will, so I was guessing I currently didn’t look anything like Artemis, but Apollo and I were twins. Wasn’t there something in me that called to him, the way his stupid ring had called to me?

  And that was another thing. What had happened to my avatar? Where was my power? I searched my brain for a clue, but nothing came. I didn’t even know what my avatar was supposed to be. All my memories kept shrieking their insistence on the childhood in Newport, the afternoons spent working at Belmonte’s café, giggling with my friend Cath. My brother’s bright hair matted with blood as the men carried him away.

  But it turned out my brother—my twin brother—was very much alive. And though the golden hair was the same, everything else was different. Would he come to rescue us if he knew who I really was? Maybe not. I didn’t even know if he liked his sister. I wasn’t entirely sure his sister liked him. I’d been warming to him lately—he’d been kind of sweet after my meltdown at the Pool of Mnemosyne, and I’d heartily approved of his bloodthirsty attack on the renegade fireshapers. But I’d never been as impressed with him as Syl had seemed to be. Was that some residual memory from Artemis, or Lexi’s snap judgement?

  I sighed, wondering what time it was. How much longer did we have before dawn and Mrs Emery’s arrival? I hauled myself off the cold floor and lay down again on the bed, my chains clinking as I moved. No sense freezing my arse off if I didn’t have to.

  Once there, I drew in several deep breaths, trying to centre myself. Rage and pain were great motivators, but knowledge was power. I would have to talk to Lucas again. Hades had all the answers, the bastard. I needed to know more.

  *Lucas? What else did Hades tell you?* If I’d been supposed to go hunting shadow shapers, something must have gone wrong. I mean, sure, I’d managed to free Apollo from their clutches, but that had been almost by accident. I hadn’t known where he was when I set out for Newport, and rescuing him had been no part of my plan. If Jake hadn’t hunted me down and dragged me into his schemes, I would never have gotten involved. That wasn’t hunting; that was sheer coincidence.

  It explained why Alberto had been so good to me, though. I’d arrived in Berkley’s Bay with nothing, and he’d taken me under his wing, given me a home and a job with no questions asked. And here I’d been, thinking what a great guy he was for it, when in reality, he’d been an uncle looking out for his niece.

  *Not a lot,* Lucas said. *He gave me a message for you. Said he hid your divinity deep enough that you could pass for human, but once you change back, there’ll be no hiding anymore.*

  Once I changed back? Holy shit. Once I changed back, the shadow shapers would be itching to destroy my avatar and steal my power. But first they’d have to get their hands on it. *What’s my avatar?*

  *Your bow.*

  That made sense, for a goddess of the hunt. Even I knew that Artemis was often depicted with her bow.

  I snorted. Even I knew? This whole thing was so ridiculous that I’d have laughed if it wasn’t my life that was being so completely screwed up. I was Lexi, not Artemis. Human, not a goddess. I felt that, with every bone in my body. Yet I knew that Hades wasn’t making this up just to mess with me. Somehow, I was also Artemis. The irony was insane. A couple of weeks ago, I hadn’t even believed in the gods. And all the time I’d been one. You couldn’t make this shit up if you tried.

  *Well, at least that’s safe, then.*

  *Uh … apparently not. He said he hid it by making it part of you. Your tattoo.*

  My hand crept to the back of my shoulder, where the small archer decorated my skin. It didn’t feel any different to the rest of me. *Seriously?*

  *Yes. It will re-form when you, um, unleash the inner goddess.*

  *Right.* The idea had a certain appeal, if it meant I could use a few shadow shapers for archery practice. *And how do I do that?*

  *He said you have to say, ‘Huntress, awake,’ and pull out your bow.*

  *‘Huntress, awake’? That’s it?*

  *He said it sounds more impressive in Ancient Greek, but apparently my accent is shit so he didn’t trust me to pass it on properly in that language. He reckons English will do fine—it’s the intention that counts, apparently.*

  *Right. And then I just pull out my bow.* I had trouble keeping the incredulity out of my mental tone. Exactly how was I supposed to “pull out” a bow that was currently a tiny tattoo on my skin? *Did he give you any details on how I’m supposed to do that?*

  *He said you’ll know when the time comes.*

  Great. So helpful, Hades. If I’d rolled my eyes any harder, they would have fallen right out of my head. *Okay. Thanks, I guess.*

  *Good luck. But Lexi, be careful. If they get a collar on you, we’re all dead.*

  17

  Right. No pressure.

  I sent my mind back to my patient moth, still hugging the wall above Adrian’s head. Minutes ticked by while
I monitored him, minutes where I threw myself into my surveillance so I wouldn’t have to think about the rest of this mess. The blinds were drawn, but not all the way. Enough light from the floodlights outside peeked in between the bottom of the blind and the windowsill for the moth to see the room clearly. A desk and chair bulked against one wall, with Adrian’s laptop on the otherwise empty surface. A blinking red light showed that he was charging it overnight.

  The room had the feel of a hotel room, luxurious but devoid of personality. Small lamps stood on each bedside table. The bed itself was king-sized, but Adrian slept alone. Those crisp white sheets looked cold. The clothes he’d been wearing tonight were draped neatly over an armchair by the window. Hopefully, he’d left the key in his shirt pocket.

  The man himself was breathing in a slow, regular rhythm. He hadn’t moved the whole time I’d been watching him, so I figured it was safe to send in the troops.

  *Okay,* I said to Syl. *He’s asleep now.*

  *You’re sure this time?*

  *Cross my heart and hope to die.*

  *You’d better not,* she said darkly. *I’m going to a lot of trouble here to keep your sorry arse alive.*

  *Okay, bad choice of words. Cross my heart and hope we all get out of here in one piece. Better?*

  *Much. Okay, here I go. Wish me luck.*

  *You’ll be fine, Syl. Go get that key. Last I saw it was in his shirt pocket, and that shirt’s on the chair by the window. Piece of cake.*

  I waited with the moth and, sure enough, in a moment, the door eased open soundlessly, and Syl slipped into the room in human form. She closed the door behind her, then stood for a long moment, watching the sleeping man. I could tell she was nervous by the way she hesitated, and I wanted to whisper encouragement, but of course we couldn’t communicate while she was in her human shape. All I could do was watch and wait as she screwed up the courage to move away from the door.

  The thick carpet swallowed the noise of her footsteps. She was barely breathing as she glided across the room, and Adrian didn’t stir. I watched as she bent over the armchair, her body blocking the line of light coming in underneath the blind. Her hand slid into the breast pocket of the white shirt.

  Then she picked the shirt up, turning it over carefully. Her shoulders slumped as she checked the pockets of the black pants beneath it. Shit. Where was the key?

  As if she’d heard me, her gaze lifted and roved around the room. The wall opposite the bed was all built-in wardrobes, panelled in dark, gleaming wood. Maybe in there? She drifted across to the desk first, pulling open the single drawer. It made the slightest squeak as it opened, and her flinch was visible from across the room. We both looked at Adrian, but he didn’t move.

  Bent over, she examined the contents of the desk drawer. Even in her human form, she could call on the night vision of her cat, so the dark recesses of the drawer didn’t take long to check out. She straightened again and moved to the bedside table on the far side from where Adrian slept.

  That didn’t seem likely. If he’d put it in either of the bedside tables, it was probably the one within arm’s reach. Sure enough, she came up empty-handed again, and stood for a moment, staring at the large wardrobe doors. Clearly, she was reluctant to tackle them. It would take a while to search every shelf and drawer within, and every minute she spent in this room only added to her danger. She glanced longingly at the door to the hallway and relative safety.

  Come on, Syl. You can do this. If only she could hear me. I was afraid she was about to lose her nerve completely. I sent the moth fluttering over to land on the bedside table next to Adrian’s head. If the key was anywhere in this room, I reckoned it would be here. Searching the wardrobe would only prolong the agony. She’d have to risk getting up nice and close to the sleeping shadow shaper, in the end. Might as well get it over with.

  If the key wasn’t in this room, we had a problem, but there was no use borrowing trouble. We’d cross that bridge if we had to.

  Syl had tracked the moth’s flight, and then she started moving again. For a horrible moment, I thought she was heading for the door, but instead she turned toward the table where the moth waited, though her steps slowed as she drew closer. After an agony of waiting, her fingers closed on the handle of the drawer, and she pulled ever so gently.

  Nothing happened. The corresponding drawer on the other side of the room had slid out smoothly. Just our luck that this one appeared to be stuck. She applied more pressure. Still nothing. She glanced uneasily at Adrian, his sleeping face turned towards her. If he opened his eyes, he could hardly fail to see her.

  One good, hard tug and the drawer finally opened, with a grating of wood on wood. Syl froze, her eyes wide with fear, trained on the sleeper’s face. Adrian sighed and rolled over.

  Long moments ticked past. I held the moth immobile, afraid even the faint fluttering of its wings might disrupt Adrian’s sleep further. There wasn’t a sound in the room except the shadow shaper’s breathing. We both listened as it gradually returned to its previous slow regularity.

  Still Syl waited. Better to be sure, of course, but she had more patience than I did. I was acutely conscious of the passing of time. This was taking longer than I’d expected, and dawn was creeping ever closer. At last, she let go of the drawer handle and reached inside. There was the faintest sound as something moved inside the drawer, but it wasn’t enough to disturb Adrian. She withdrew her hand, fist closed tight around something, and backed slowly away to the door.

  Yes! We had the precious key at last. Now all we had to do was get it to Hades. I sent the moth after her, so that when she eased the door open it could flit through into the hallway. She followed it, moving soundlessly, and closed the door behind her. Then she laid the key on the carpet and turned cat between one heartbeat and the next.

  *Well done!* I said, as soon as our link was re-established. Through the moth’s eyes I watched the cat carefully pick up the key in its mouth. *Wouldn’t that be easier to carry if you stayed human?*

  *I can carry a bird or a mouse no problem. I don’t think a piddly key is going to present any difficulties. And I have better reflexes in this shape.*

  She was less likely to be noticed, too. *True. Wait here while I check the way ahead is clear.* The moth fluttered down the hallway to the top of the staircase, the only thing moving in the darkness. There were no cameras in here; only outside, which helped. Not that the moth would have caused any alarm, but the cat would. *All clear.*

  *I don’t know how you can do this,* Syl muttered as she crept down the corridor after the moth. *I’m so nervous I feel like I’m going to be sick. It’s a wonder the smell of my sweat didn’t wake him up.*

  *You did great,* I soothed her, scanning the yawning emptiness of the stairwell. Nothing moved, but I wasn’t taking any chances. *We’ll make a pro of you yet.*

  *No, thanks. I’m happy to leave the thieving up to you in future.*

  I’d always prided myself on my abilities—but I wasn’t really a thief, was I? A fresh wave of grief hit me. None of that history was true. The only things I could be sure I’d actually stolen were Apollo’s ring and the original key to unlock the collars. Oh, and the altarpiece of Manannan Mac Lir I’d swiped from under the mayor’s nose. Three measly thefts. My whole identity as this highly skilled ninja of thievery was a lie. I was actually a goddess. Maybe that was why it had never felt wrong to take things from other people. Goddesses were used to getting exactly what they wanted, only nobody called them thieves when they took it.

  Syl paused at the top of the stairs. Light from outside flooded through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall of the grand foyer, leaving nowhere for a black cat to hide once she ventured onto the white marble staircase. I forced the moth to land on the railing, though it longed to wing its way toward the bright light and beat itself against the glass. I could probably let it go once Syl reached the darkness of the basement level. We hadn’t seen another soul, and there was no reason to think anyone other than the guard in t
he basement was awake.

  *What happens now?* she asked. *How do I get this key to Hades?*

  *First step is to get down these stairs,* I said. *The night’s a-wasting while you stand there waving your tail around.*

  *I am not waving my tail,* she retorted, but she stepped gingerly onto the top step anyway.

  The tip of her tail was twitching with nerves, but I could let that slide. This was no time to pick a fight. We were both too tense.

  She slipped down the stairs like a silken shadow. We both breathed a sigh of relief once she’d made it down and found her way into the dark kitchen. A pair of gigantic refrigerators hummed a quiet song side by side, and red numbers glowed above the oven. 4:32. Another hour until dawn? Perhaps a little longer, but not much.

  The stairs to the lower level beckoned, lit only by a soft light rising from below—the light from the guard room spilling into the dark hallway. Hugging the wall, Syl started down, her tail still flicking in that nervous twitch.

  *So, tell me you have some genius plan other than ‘sneak past guard and unlock door’,* she said, her trademark snarkiness less assured than usual. I didn’t blame her for being scared. These guys didn’t muck around.

  In fact, I was scared myself. So much so that I was sitting here stalling, actually contemplating letting her try to sneak past a guard who was on high alert, then stand in the corridor, defenceless, while she waited for Lucas to retrieve the key she’d slipped under the door and unlock Hades’ collar. A real friend wouldn’t be putting her best friend at risk like that. Not when she had the ability to unleash powers of her own.

  I could follow Hades’ instructions—as he was obviously expecting me to do—and release the goddess locked away inside me, then blast my way out into the corridor. Who knew what I would be capable of then? Perhaps I could bring the whole house down, destroying every filthy shadow shaper within its walls. I could most certainly manage to hold them off for a moment while we all made our escape, without Syl having to risk herself any further. But I was afraid.