by Amy Sumida
“Yes”—Arach beamed as he slipped an arm around my waist—“we are very proud.”
“Well damn, Vervain.” Lugh whistled. “You couldn't be happy with one child king for a son; you had to make it a matching set?”
“They are twins, after all,” I teased, but then I went serious. “Lugh, we need someone to look after Annwn until Rian is old enough to do it on his own. We wanted a Celt, who would be familiar with the territory and the people. Someone who would be compassionate and understanding of the souls living there. We were thinking of—”
“Manannan,” Lugh finished for me.
“Yes,” I confirmed. “Would you be okay with that?”
“Gods damn it, V,” Lugh cussed, surprising Arach and me both. “Why do you do this to me every time?”
“Do what?” I was baffled.
“Make me look like an asshole,” he huffed. “After all that shit that just happened between us, you couldn't have just gone behind my back and chosen him? You had to mirror me and be all up-front and honorable about it? You're such a bad friend!” He grimaced and then smiled, making a lie out of his words.
I laughed. “So, you're okay with it?”
“It's fine.” Lugh sighed. “I've worked things out with Manannan.”
“Seriously?” I lifted a brow. “You guys are good now?”
“Mostly.” Lugh shrugged. “It's still a little tense between us, but I'm trying to let go of the hurt.”
“You know that he was trying to do right by you,” Arach said sternly. “A man should be judged on both his actions and what compels him to act.”
“Yeah; I know; I get it,” Lugh huffed. “It's just hard to let go of my anger.”
“At least you're trying.” I paused and glanced at Arach meaningfully.
We hadn't just mirrored for Lugh.
“We need to speak with your father next,” Arach said. “Is he available?”
“My father?” Lugh narrowed his eyes. “What else has happened?”
“Quite a lot,” I murmured. “Can you get him for us?”
“Hold on.” Lugh looked over his shoulder and then walked out of our view.
A few minutes passed, and then High King Cian stepped up to the mirror. Lugh was just behind him.
“Fire Royals,” King Cian said with a cautious expression. “You have something you wish to speak to me about?”
“I'm afraid it's bad news, High King,” Arach said. “We've had an unsettling report from the Human Realm. I won't go into the scientific details, but someone—most likely an Atlantean—has possibly been using an Atlantean machine to pierce the protective energy around the Earth and attack human cities. If it continues, the shield could fall, and then the Earth would die.”
“What?” Cian snarled. “A god is threatening the human world? Why? If they destroy the world, it could have catastrophic consequences on the God Realm. We are all connected...” His eyes went wide. “Sweet Faerie, you're telling me this so that I withdraw Faerie from the Human Realm once more.”
“Yes,” Arach said grimly. “At least for the time being, I think it would be wise.”
“King Arach, do you understand the consequences of that action?” King Cian asked. “We have only just aligned with Earth's time and seasons again. If I cut us off once more, not only will no one be able to enter or exit Faerie; at least through the Aether”—he glanced at me—“we will lose our bond with the planet Earth, and Faerie will shift back into stasis.”
“Fuck!” Arach growled.
“Yes, indeed.” Cian made a face. “How dire is the situation in the Human Realm?”
“We've only just discovered it,” I hastened to assure him. “We haven't even determined with certainty that this is what's happening. It's all theory at this point.”
Cian took a deep breath. “All right. Queen Vervain, I assume that you will be returning to the God Realm soon?”
I looked at Arach, and he nodded. I had wanted to stay, but that didn't seem to be an option any longer.
“Yes, High King,” I said.
“And you will keep us apprised of your discoveries?” He prompted.
“Yes, of course,” I said immediately. “I'll return with information intermittently, which will be only moments for you since I'll be using my Ring of Remembrance.”
“That is helpful,” Cian agreed. “Go now, Queen Vervain. I will wait here with your husband.”
“Oh.” I looked from Cian to Arach in surprise.
Arach lifted his brows at me.
“I need to say goodbye to my sons first.” I hurried from the bedroom without waiting for Cian's approval and went to the nursery.
It took only seconds to get to my boys; the nursery was right next door to the bedroom I shared with Arach, and I quickly kissed them goodbye. I didn't like being rushed through my farewells with my sons, but I understood the need for urgency. Still, Brevyn's solemn expression froze me in place.
“Brev?” I asked him hesitantly.
“Don't die again, Mommy,” he whispered.
I made a choking huff of sound as I gaped at him in horror. Grannuaile, who was sitting near the window, gasped, and Dexter whined. I knew my boys had felt something when Eros had poisoned me, just as Lesya had, but I didn't realize that they understood what they had felt.
“You know what happened?” I asked Brevyn.
“We know,” Rian answered for his brother. “We felt something hurt you.”
“You were sick, and you died, but then you got better,” Brevyn said solemnly.
“Oh, babies.” I swept them both up into a hug. Talk about breaking my heart. “I'm so sorry.”
“It's okay, Mommy,” Brevyn said. “Just don't get sick again.”
I looked at my boys—at the weight of age and knowledge in their eyes—and wanted to cry. They carried far too much maturity and responsibility for children their age; a kingdom apiece and magic that could cripple as much as it could empower. I suddenly wished that we were human, that they could live like normal children, but that wish quickly evaporated under their smiles.
They may be children, but their souls were ancient, and they had chosen their own paths. That was their right, and even I, their mother, couldn't choose something different for them. All I could do was support them and help them along the way. Hadn't I chosen the hard path myself? It was rough, but it was also worth every hurdle, and if they chose to make sacrifices for their own sublime happiness, who was I to stop them?
“I'm so proud of you both,” I said to them, and they smiled brighter.
“I love you,” Brevyn said, and for a brief moment, Ull was there, in his eyes and in his voice.
“I love you too, Mommy,” Rian added.
“And I love you both even more.” I kissed their cheeks, hugged them once more, and left them with Dexter and Grannuaile.
When I walked back into the bedroom, Arach saw the tear-stains on my cheeks and rushed over to me.
“A Thaisce?” His hands cupped my face as he leaned his body against mine—a subconscious thing he did when he wanted to offer me support.
“I'm fine,” I assured him. “Just facing the facts of being a mother to magical babies.”
“Ah.” Arach leaned down and kissed me. “Magic always has a price.”
“Don't I know it,” I muttered. “I'll see you soon, sweetheart.”
“Or I'll come after you,” Arach promised grimly. “I love you, Vervain.”
“I love you too, Arach.”
I stepped away from my faerie husband and faded away, back into the past and to another realm.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Has anyone realized that the Earth dying will directly affect the God Realm?”
That was my greeting as I waltzed back into the dining hall of Pride Palace. The room had become the base of operations for dealing with the Eros and storm god situations; Steros for short. The God Squad and some of the Intare were gathered around the long table, and they all looked up in shock at my wor
ds. All except for Pan.
“My father mentioned that might be a possibility,” Pan muttered.
“And you didn't think of sharing that?” Horus glared at his best friend.
“I thought it would just freak you all out for nothing,” Pan huffed, causing his light brown curls to flutter out from his face. The movement briefly revealed the little pair of horns hidden in his mass of hair. “We need to focus on fixing this, not panic. Believe me; I know all about panic.”
He kinda did, being the god of it and all.
“We won't panic,” I said as I headed over to my husbands, Re, and Lesya. I kissed them all hello before turning back to the rest of the table. “I just spoke with the High King of Faerie, and he's unwilling to close off the Faerie Realm until it's absolutely necessary.”
“I didn't realize that he'd want to close it at all.” Finn grimaced.
“It would protect the realm from any fallout coming from Earth, but it would also cast them out of alignment and into stasis again,” Odin surmised. “That would be bad for their fertility, I imagine.”
“So, we need to find this”—I glanced at Lesya—“stupid-head and stop him or her before they can cause any lasting damage to Earth.”
“I think I have something,” Torrent said. “I've been looking into the weather reports for the locations and times of each power outage. Every power outage was preceded by a massive storm. I know that isn't surprising; we've already determined that a storm deity is most likely using the Atlantean machine, but I did find one interesting connection. All of these storms originated in one location.”
“Where?” Trevor growled.
“The Pacific,” Torrent said.
“Hawaii?” I asked with wide eyes.
“Closer to California,” Torrent corrected. “But offshore; the Pacific Ocean.”
“Are you saying that the storms began in the middle of the sea?” Teharon asked with narrowed eyes.
“That's right.” Torrent cocked his head at Teharon. “Why? Does that mean something?”
“Maybe.” Teharon looked at Mrs. E and Mr. T. “Iya and his mother live off the coast of California.”
“No,” Mrs. E's dark eyes widened, and her long hair flowed out suddenly as if she were underwater. “We already checked into the Lakota, and we determined that it can't be him. Iya hasn't shown his face in over a century.”
“And the last time he did, he didn't have much of one,” Mr. T muttered.
“You wanna explain that?” Azrael asked Mr. T.
“Iya,” Torrent intoned as if he were reading, “sacred Storm God of the Lakota tribe, has an endless appetite which causes him to consume humans, animals, and entire villages. Still, he is not considered evil, simply another facet of Nature.”
“Consuming villages isn't considered evil?” Pan asked with a huff.
“There is some debate over that,” Teharon said. “The old myths say that Iya is evil, and from my experiences with him, I'm inclined to agree with them.”
“Maybe you shouldn't get your information from Wikipedia, Torr.” Pan chuckled.
“When he appears, Iya is often faceless or formless,” Torrent went on, ignoring Pan. “Oh! That's why you said he didn't have a face the last time.”
“Yes, Torrent,” Mrs. E said with an indulgent smile. “And although some people see Iya as evil, those are only stories. The god himself is just as any man is; neither good or bad entirely. He often protects those caught within his storms.”
“Estsanatlehi.” Mr. T shook his head at his wife. “I know you are trying to be kind, but this is the time for harsh truth, not kindness. Iya is more evil than good. He is a god of misfortune, after all.”
“And a bit of a mama's boy,” Teharon murmured. He glanced at Karni Mata, his girlfriend, and then away, before he added, “They had a son together.”
“Who had a son together?” Finn asked, his Irish accent making the question sound even more ominous.
“Iya and his mother,” Teharon said.
“He had sex with his mother?” I gasped. “On purpose?”
“There's a way to do it by accident?” Thor asked with amusement.
“Ever hear of Oedipus?” I lifted my brows at Thor in challenge.
“Oh, I see,” Thor murmured.
“I know stuff,” I said smugly.
“Sick,” Kirill growled. “Either vay—knowing or unknowing—is sick.”
“Yes,” Teharon agreed. “And yes, Iya bedded his mother knowingly.”
“The child is even more evil than his parents,” Mr. T said sadly. “And so beautiful that it is hard to resist his persuasive ways. Many gods have made the mistake of trusting Gnas, and they have all paid dearly for it. He delights in humiliating others; even his own parents.”
“Sounds like a lovely family.” I rolled my eyes.
“Iya lives with his mother, beneath the sea, but that is not the most troubling relationship,” Mrs. E said with a worried look at her husband. “Tell them, Tsohanoai. I cannot bring myself to speak his name.”
“Tell us vhat?” Kirill asked.
“Iya is Iktomi's brother,” Mr. T said with a grim air of revelation. “They share a father.”
The words fell into a shocked silence. We all remembered Iktomi well. We had killed the Spider God just a few hundred feet from where we sat. And it had taken all of us, a flock of Thunderbirds, and Arach in his dragon form to accomplish it. Iktomi had been a powerful god who had gained even more power by murdering people through the Internet. He had used the human-created Inter Realm as an unlimited source of sacrifices... and a source for creation.
My gaze went to Torrent.
Torrent's naturally pale face had gone snow-white. His lips were pressed together tightly, and his eyes shivered around the edges. Artemis, his long-time girlfriend, was holding his trembling hand and staring at him with a worried expression. But Torrent wasn't looking at her; he was staring off in a daze. This wasn't one of his Internet reading looks. No; Torrent was staring into his past, seeing traumas that I could only guess at. Iktomi had been Torrent's father, in a Dr. Frankenstein sort of way. He had formed Torrent out of Internet and God magic, and to this day, I don't know exactly how he did it.
“No one is going to hurt you,” I leaned across the table to speak to Torrent. “Not ever, Torr. We got you; your one of us now, and we are your family.”
“Iya wouldn't come after you, child,” Mrs. E said gently. “He would consider you to be his family as well.”
Torrent blinked free of his past and looked at Mrs. E. “Even after I betrayed Iktomi?”
“You did what you had to do,” Mr. T said firmly.
“Betray my father,” Torrent whispered. “That's what I did.” His eyes shot to mine, the green in them glowing with Internet energy. “Do you think this is about me, V? Do you think my uncle is doing all of this to draw me out so that he can kill me?”
“We don't even know if this is him,” I said softly. “Torrent, you are a powerful god now, remember? Even without us, you could handle this. No one will ever control you again.”
Torrent's perfect brow furrowed as he thought that through. Sometimes, all it took was one look backward to make us stumble; one memory of a past weakness to make us question our current strength. But Torrent's weak memories were numerous and full of violence. I had endured his father's attention for one day, and it had nearly driven me insane. Iktomi may not have tortured his son in the same manner, but Torrent had been a witness to all of the atrocities his father had committed, and that was a different kind of torture. A more subtle, sinister kind of abuse that could worm its way into a person's soul and make its victim believe that he was at fault. Iktomi had made Torrent feel complicit in those evil deeds and impotent to stop them. It was a vicious trauma that had taken Torrent years to move past, and still, the echoes of it lingered in his eyes.
But Torrent was only half Iktomi; his other half was Internet magic—rational wisdom with the power to bypass emotional hurt. When
Torrent's heart was threatened, his mind could protect it as easily as throwing a switch. I watched Torrent's eyes glitter as he threw that switch and processed everything with perfect calm. He finally nodded and took a deep breath.
“Do any of you know exactly where in the Pacific Ocean Iya and his mother lives?” Torrent asked the Native American gods.
They looked at each other, then at Torrent, and nodded.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Knowing where Iya and his mommy lived wasn't the problem; it was getting to where they lived. Not only was their home beneath the ocean, but it was also warded. We couldn't get in, and that was all there was to it. So, instead of infiltrating Iya's home, we decided to stake it out, or at least stake-out the surface of the sea above his home.
When the idea of a stake-out was first brought up (by Finn), I had pointed out that Iya could very easily trace to his next target and bypass our notice altogether. But then Torrent reminded me that the storms originated over Iya's home. This meant that Iya wasn't tracing; he was using the powerful ocean winds to fuel his storm and possibly an Atlantean machine.
Then came the question of how to spy on Iya. Torrent solved the problem once again, using his Internet magic to hack into a satellite and focus its cameras on the bit of ocean we needed to be monitored. Torrent could stream the video directly into his mind and alert us to any activity immediately. Then he would use the satellite to track Iya's path and ascertain his target. Once Torrent had the location of Iya's target, we would all trace there and stop him.
Easy.
Why are things never as easy as we plan them to be?
Step one went without a hitch. The God Squad decided to stay at Pride Palace until we had some movement from Iya. So, they were all there the next day when Iya emerged from his undersea home in a damn tipi. I'm not even kidding; Torrent put the video feed on one of our TVs, and we all watched as a brightly painted tipi shot out of the sea like a torpedo and then levitated above the surface as the wind began to pick up speed around it. The tipi was surrounded by rain, wind, and lightning, and then the storm began to move.