“I miss him, too.” Hephaestus frowned. “He was my favorite brother. But I can say with complete confidence that if he were here he would thank you for what you have done, and I also believe that he would approve of your current plan.”
As their conversation drifted off into matters of Council protocol, I pondered what had been said. They had an extensive history, not uncommon among the Progeny who had lived for as long as they had, but the depths of their relationship was a revelation. My gaze fell on the dagger Hephaestus had forged. An intriguing weapon. I had nearly as many questions about it as I did about Hephaestus and Bacchus. Who was the dagger for? The cypress emblem on the hilt was intricately fashioned, but what did it mean? Given the weapon’s small size, it was obviously meant to be concealed. An assassin’s weapon. Considering its material, one meant for an immortal since Hephaestus was the only craftsman with the means and the talent to work the obstinate material. His fee was not surprisingly exorbitant. There weren’t many who could afford such a blade.
“So see you at the next scheduled meeting. Earlier if you can swing it. Don’t worry, Arla.” Hephaestus referred to the god of wine by his Cajun moniker, the same one Billy used. “You can count on me to lend my support wherever I can.” Hephaestus’ black hued eyes turned as hard as the obsidian they resembled. “The enforcers contaminate my forge when they send violators down here for annihilation.” My empty stomach lurched at the thought of my father in the nearby six-thousand-degree Celsius incineration chamber. He must have suffered horrifically, his immortal body trying to repeatedly regenerate the damage, but eventually succumbing to the eternal flames as he was literally burned alive. “But it won’t be as easy as you think to change the Code. Those who will oppose the change are resolute.”
“Phoebus and Apollyon.”
“Yes. Those two have many who support them behind the scenes and they are adept at manipulating others to suit their purposes. If that were not so, they would have been challenged more times over the ages. I have never understood why my father continues to look the other way while Phoebus kidnaps and enslaves Dark Immortals.”
“Phoebus is certainly nothing at all like his twin.” Bacchus shook his head. “Hemera was a generous and kind soul.”
“That she was. Creator bless her,” Hephaestus stated in a wistful tone. “She could have united both factions given time. The Sun King is insular and selfish. His contempt of all others has ever defined him.”
I had to agree with Hephaestus. Phoebus had a reputation. Those close to him inevitably fled when they discovered his true nature or stayed and suffered because of their decision. His slavers were a threat to Dark Immortals that predated my lifetime. At one time only isolated groups had been at risk. But unchecked over the years, the Sun King had grown disturbingly bolder. None were safe anymore. Victimized families increasingly sought me out to retrieve their kidnapped loved ones. His slave ships were too slow to outrun my speed. I found success in each mission I undertook. I never turned down requests for retrieval, but my efforts were too meager to effect true change. Phoebus probably had hundreds of Dark Immortals trapped within his domain. Rumors abounded, but no one knew for sure how many there were since Phoebus was very restrictive about who he allowed into his city.
“Fils de putain,” Bacchus concluded aptly.
“Agreed,” Hephaestus said. “He’s a son of a bitch. But his counterpoint in the Underground is just as bad. Apollyon has more than his fair share of Light Immortals shackled and stashed away within the bowels of his foul abode.” This was well-known fact in the Underground, but I could tell by his widened gaze that Bacchus was shocked.
“So Phoebus and Apollyon strive to deter us.” I was eager to summarize, to get a plan in place and get out. It was hot and I had many things to do before I could rest. Both Progeny looked at me as though they had forgotten I was in their midst. “But how can they, Master, with Bacchus being so determined?” I had come to Hephaestus after my parents had been killed and the god of wine had abandoned me in the Main Concourse of the Underground. I had been so young that all of my talons had not yet fully emerged. A vamp had tried to make a meal of me and had nearly drained me dry. To this day I had little use for the filthy parasites. Gravely weakened, it had taken me several days to crawl down the narrow steps to Hephaestus’ domain deep within the earth where the Creator’s residual magic flowed like lava. Fortunately for me, the smithing god hadn’t turned me away, but had taken me in as his apprentice instead.
Five years of servitude bought the obsidian that coated my talons. I considered it a small price to pay for such an exquisite gift.
I had come over time to respect him. I think he grew fond of me, too. Why else would he have schooled me in self-defense and combat at no additional cost? Too many immortals underestimated him because of his disability. Few could match him in martial prowess.
“It would take an oracle to foresee exactly what those two might do.” Hephaestus glanced at Bacchus whose brown like the mud in the Bayou eyes were hooded beneath the shadow of his sweat darkened hair. “But I would keep a sharp watch on them. It has always bothered me how conveniently the balance of power tipped in the Light’s favor after Nyx was put to death.”
“You think Nyx was betrayed by someone. By a Favored Light Progeny,” I surmised feeling ill. Why had I never reached that conclusion before? My hands tightened into fists at my sides. I was unable to pretend indifference in the light of that revelation.
“Without a doubt,” Hephaestus confirmed with a tight nod. “And I wouldn’t rule out influence at a higher level than the Council.”
“One of the Heirs,” I whispered low.
“Hep, we doan know that for true.” Bacchus words were muffled behind the hand he scrubbed over his mouth.
“Yet the hallmarks are there.” Hephaestus moved closer to Bacchus, his right leg, an obsidian prosthesis from the knee down, ringing against the stone floor. He stood a full foot shorter than me, but he was just as heavily muscled. His strength came from wrestling with the elements and his forge rather than from fighting foes. “It will require someone formidable to call out those responsible.” He gave me a long meaningful look. “Someone who has a vested interest in justice being served.”
Did the smithing god know that Nyx and Hemera were my parents? Could he possible know three half Dark, half Light sons existed? Could he fathom that there was no one under the Creator who wanted vengeance more than I did?
“The opportunity will arise,” Hephaestus continued, the intensity in his expression making me believe he might. “Nyx’s and Hemera’s deaths will be avenged. The Creator works in ways that are mysterious, but he is wise and his timing is impeccable. It’s a time to be ready, a time to look forward, to be open to the new future when it arrives.”
Brow creased, Bacchus nodded.
“Go in peace, my friend.” Hephaestus clapped Bacchus on the shoulder. The god of wine locked his legs to keep from buckling beneath the power of the smithing god’s sledgehammer blow. “Our cause is just. I will keep my eyes and ears open. l will let you know if I find out what our enemies plan. We have been allies in the past, and we will remain so going forward, whatever the future may hold.”
“Arrête.” Stop.
I froze mid-launch gazing longingly at the beckoning bioluminescent underground sky for a long moment before folding in my wings. Bacchus came jogging toward me his worn boots kicking up dust on the barren Underground plain.
“Damn you’re fast, podna.” The Cajun seemed out of breath his mouth gaping like a fish as he struggled to pull air into his lungs. I was surprised a Favored Progeny had so much difficulty matching my pace. But then the temperature in the lower levels with Hephaestus had been draining even for me, and Bacchus was a Light Immortal so his power was much reduced in the Underground.
“You did well with Hephaestus. He seems to hold you in high regard.”
I nodded. It was not in my nature to feign modesty.
“His daughter wa
nted you to linger.”
I shrugged, though he was correct. That was most of the reason I had ascended the stairs from Hephaestus’ hall two at a time. Calliope had been obsessed with taking me to her bed ever since my advanced avian metabolism had vaulted me into full physical maturity while I had yet been in the service of her father. But I refrained from such temptation, then and now. I knew better than to become entangled with my master’s daughter. But I didn’t explain my reasoning to Bacchus. I listened, I observed but I shared little, a defense I learned from Hephaestus himself that had served me well.
Bacchus leaned in. “Does Calliope know who you are?” he whispered.
“No. No one does except for you, Shane, Billy and Thyme.”
“Bien. That’s good, podna.” He put his hand on my shoulder as if we were close friends.
We weren’t.
I shrugged off his touch, taking a deliberate step backward. Bacchus had made his choice. It was Billy whose life he had reentered as my younger brother approached full immortality. It was Billy whom he took into his care while I was left to fend for myself in the Underground.
Learning hard lessons.
Burying dreams.
Suppressing emotions.
Surviving.
“I trust Hephaestus,” Bacchus continued seemingly unaware of the coil of tension he had unknowingly wound. “He has a soft spot for those he views as the outcasts of society. That is how he was made to feel because of his birth abnormalities, though you and I both know that he does not let his disability limit him. He has shaped his circumstances as skillfully as the obsidian he transforms. His upper body is more powerful than that of Ares. And the objects he crafts rival the Creator’s living ones. He was always my first choice to train you. It wasn’t difficult to convince him. You won him over at your first meeting with your determination.”
“Hold on one minute.” The known ground suddenly shifted beneath me. “Back up.” I had always believed that it had been pity that had swayed Hephaestus to take me in. “You left me in the Underground when I was just a child.” The accusation in my tone was blatant. “Alone and helpless.” I had been devastated by my parents’ deaths and frightened in the unfamiliar surroundings.
“Weh, but I had no other option. I couldn’t hide a boy with wings among the humans. And you were far from helpless.” His brow creased. “It was a risk, a calculated one.” He sighed. “I was there when you were born, Morpheus. No child was more loved than you were. Your mother refused to let you be hidden away. Even your father could not persuade her. She was so proud of you. She bragged about you all the time. How you spoke the Creator’s language by the time you learned to walk. How you made your first kill shortly after that. You had the mind and stature of a thirteen-year-old at only five. I prayed your maturation rate would hold. I was beside myself with relief when Hephaestus sent me word of your great progress. When you left his service at age ten, he assured me that you were the size of a fully grown man, combat hardened, and wise in ways that far surpassed your chronological age.
I didn’t respond. I was reeling from the information he shared.
“I doan expect you to forgive me for the choices I’ve made, but I hope that you’ll understand.” His gaze intensified. “You remind me of both of them, Morpheus. I wish you would allow me the privilege of knowing you better. I’d like to share with you what I know about your parents. Things I’m not sure you remember. How caring your mother was. The fierce devotion of your father. How much they both loved you. How much they each meant to me.” He let out a long sigh. “Speaking of family, I must share how worried I am about my own daughter. The rumblings I hear aren’t good. Apollyon remains fixated on her and Billy. Mississippi may have been right. It might have been better for Thyme to stay beneath the water in her mother’s realm.” Thyme’s mother was the supernatural embodiment of that great river and Bacchus’ lover. When Thyme’s spirit had been freed from Apollyon’s amulet, it had returned to awaken the body her mother had secreted away and preserved. Afterward, Mississippi had tried to convince Bacchus to let their revived daughter remain in hiding.
“It would not have been better,” I disagreed. Not for Thyme, Billy or me.
“Non. You are right.” Bacchus ran a hand through his unruly hair. “Safer maybe, but not better.”
I gave him a firm nod of agreement.
“But for her to have a better life she has to be safe in the present, non?”
“What are you saying?”
“Apollyon doesn’t like walking around on hooves again. He wants revenge on Billy for breaking the transformation amulet and besting him in front of his father. Hurting Thyme would feed that sadistic nature of his and get back at Billy at the same time.”
“His animus toward them is certain.”
“You are a good friend to them, for true. Loyal. Honorable. Like your father. I’m glad you three have each other now. A sign indeed as Hephaestus pointed out that the Creator works to bring goodness from even evil deeds.” Bacchus lowered his voice even more though there was no sign of anyone else for miles on the flat barren plain. But this was Apollyon’s domain. It was better to be overcautious. “Our adversary appears weakened without the amulet and without Laveau at his side. But appearances can be as deceiving as he is. His desperation makes him more of a threat than ever. Plus Laveau’s absence means he has no sane counselor to temper him. We must convince Thyme and Billy to go into hiding, at least for a while, until I can gather the Council to change the Code.”
“Do you have the votes you need now?”
“Yes. Eros was easy to persuade. Counting him, Hephaestus, Ares and myself, we have a majority. Getting the code changed will be a major step in the right direction, but I won’t rest easy until Apollyon is somewhere where he can’t hurt any of you anymore. That means he needs to be locked up for his crimes or eliminated completely. I prefer the latter. I was hoping to hear that you had found Laveau.”
“Sadly, I did not.” I shook my head. “There is no trace of her that I can find. But it seems that we are all giving Billy the same counsel, that he should take Thyme away from the city.” Unease churned in my gut remembering the deadline Apollyon had given Thyme. “Maybe if you and I talked to him at the same time, we could convince him that the time for that is now. Will you be attending the surprise party he has planned for Thyme?”
“Weh. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I was told that there might be a ring and a proposal to go along with the crawdads and étouffée, no?”
I nodded. I was holding the ring for Billy. It was in my front pocket. “Together we will persuade him. He wants Thyme safe as much as I…as much as we all do.” The way I had previously viewed the world, the me-versus-everyone-else mentality was transforming to admit others, some that I had never considered. “I believe if we combine forces, we will persevere…Arla.”
“Don’t do it, man.”
“Yet, there are only two at the house today,” I informed Samuel under my breath turning my gaze slightly to the side to acknowledge him. Though the Roux-ga-roux, the Louisiana werewolf, was nearly as stealthy as me, his ears were no match for mine.
“Two that you can see,” he pointed out, the leather straps that held his scimitars on his back creaking softly as he settled into a crouch on the dirt beside me.
I gave him a quick nod of agreement while shifting to avoid being drenched by the overspray from the underground waterfall.
Steady, Morpheus. I dug my talons into my thick jeans. Samuel is correct. But I wasn’t planning to heed his warning. Apollyon had taken my home from me. The thought of him finding the things I had hidden within, and what they would reveal made the lining inside my stomach burn. I refused to sit idle. I didn’t want him contaminating them with his foul touch. I would torch the entire place and watch it burn to the ground before I would allow him to have them.
“You’re going anyway,” Samuel surmised.
“Indeed.” I turned to regard him seeing my determined visage refle
cted in his eyes.
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“No. I need you to stay here out of sight. You are too valuable an asset within Apollyon’s castle to risk.” I shrugged out of my leather jacket. It was unnecessary for a short underground flight. “Notwithstanding that, why are you here and not watching Thyme as I instructed you?”
“Bacchus sent me away. He and Billy are with her along with another shifter he brought in.” Samuel rolled his shoulders in a way I knew meant something had irritated him.
“Do you think Thyme is inadequately protected?”
“No, not at all. The shifter is fuckin’ amazing. She snuck up on me without me even scenting her. Pinned me on my back in three seconds flat before Bacchus verified that I was one of the good guys.”
That was impressive. Samuel’s stealth and combat prowess were the main reasons I had him watching Thyme. “Anyone I know?”
“Non.” He shook his head, long strands of red swishing his shoulders as they escaped the leather tie at the base of his neck. “She’s a Texian.” The Cajun term for someone from Texas. “A puma. She shifted when I flipped her over. Scratched me up pretty good for my trouble.”
I raised a brow. He didn’t seem mad about it. In fact, if I had to guess I would venture that it was interest that made his eyes glow. But movement on the canyon house porch had me setting aside my speculation to refocus on the matter at hand. The gargoyles were headed toward the broken land bridge apparently switching shifts with the two others who had just arrived.
A changing of the guard.
This was my chance.
“Watch my back.” I stepped to the ledge and snapped out my wings, my lips curling upward in anticipation. Nothing gave me greater satisfaction than being airborne.
“You got it.” Samuel’s soft reply was carried to me like a feather on the wind.
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