by Amy Sumida
“How so?”
“We take life from blood and limiting the number of Beneathers who do the same would increase our supply. Also, we needed to see how the Beneath would react to mass slaughter.” Kukulcan slid a considering look my way. “And what kind of opposition we might receive. Admittedly, you are a far stronger opponent than we thought to face.”
“And yet, here I am.” I waved a hand around me. “Unwillingly.”
“I took you with me for several reasons, Elaria,” his voice went low and serious. “The first being that I couldn't let my people kill you. There was no cause for it, and they couldn't have done so, even if they'd tried. Could they?” He looked pointedly at my waist.
“You know about that, huh?”
He just smiled.
“Fat lot of good it did when you took my voice,” I grumbled.
He shrugged evasively.
“Okay.” I frowned at him. “So, you hold no ill will toward me?”
“Not in the least,” Kukulcan said as he leaned back on his hands and lifted his face to the sun appreciatively. “And I don't want to imprison you either. Having just been so myself, I wouldn't wish that on you.”
“Then I can leave?”
“All I said was that I didn't wish to.” He shook his head. “The Angels will be coming for us soon, and although we are strong in magic and numbers, they are as well. I need to see to my people's safety.”
“Uh-huh,” I said.
“The reason we needed to test the Beneath is that we will be waging war against the Angels. It is either that or be sent back to Metnal. I expect that it will be a brutal battle, and we will need all the help we can get.”
“You've already proven that I can be bested with a wave of your hand,” I said bitterly. “Why would you need, or even want, my help?”
“I have my reasons,” Kukulcan said, and then he pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I will share them with you if you join us.”
“I'm sorry.” I shook my head. “There's no way that I'm getting involved in a fight between Angels and Gods.”
“This battle could bleed out into the rest of the Beneath,” Kukulcan pointed out. “It could affect you and your loved ones.”
“Then I'll deal with that when it happens,” I said. “But I won't support a war that shouldn't be fought in the first place. Frankly, I don't know why the Angels stuck you in Hell, but that sounds like something they'd have a good reason for.”
Kukulcan inhaled deeply and let it out with a slow sigh. “I can see how you would think so. The truth is rather boring. My people ruled Mexico through the Maya, and then we adopted the Aztecs. We were strong and beloved until the Christian religion was brought over by the Spanish. The Angels wanted to increase their holdings, and we refused to give up our people without a fight. So, we fought over the humans, and they won.”
“And you think they'll come back and try to stick you in Hell again?” I asked. “After all these years? When the world has changed so much?”
“Have you ever met an angel?” Kukulcan asked wryly.
“No.”
“Then you're fortunate.” He grimaced. “They're tenacious and vindictive; I fully expect them to attempt to put us back in Metnal, even should we remain unobtrusive.”
“But you have a plan this time?”
“I've been planning for this for hundreds of years,” Kukulcan said tiredly. “It's been all I've thought about.”
“But?”
“But then I met a spellsinger with a whisper of destiny on her skin,” he said softly. “You are the path to our survival; I'm sure of it.”
“Destiny?” I lifted my brows. “I think what you felt was a piece of a relic that I once hosted. But that weapon is asleep again, and there is only the smallest shard of it left inside me. I'm not the power you think I am.”
“I don't mean the Witch Relic,” Kukulcan said. “Although, that was most impressive, and perhaps the Relic's remnant was what made you shine bright enough to wake the Sleeping One.”
“The Sleeping One?” I asked, and the words made me shiver.
“When I first touched your mind, I felt the barest trace of something familiar,” he said. “I went further in, and there it was; the trace of a presence lingering within you.”
“What kind of presence?”
“An entity strong enough to leave a piece of itself inside another.” Kukulcan's expression went serious. “Elaria, I have only felt such power once. It was a very long time ago on my home planet, but I will never forget the way it burned across my skin and through my blood like lightning.”
“Just fucking tell me,” I growled. “What was it?”
“What I encountered back then was merely an artifact; a helmet recovered from a battlefield,” he said. “Within it was residue of magic from the god who had killed the soldier.”
“Wait; god?” I scowled. “Do you mean 'god' as in aliens who came to Earth and made humans believe—”
“No,” he stopped me. “Not one of us; not any of the so-called gods from other worlds. I mean a true god, Elaria. One of the Creators of the Realms.; the race that birthed all races.”
“No fucking way,” I huffed. “That's a fairy tale. Only humans believe that kind of crap.”
Kukulcan laughed. “There is absolutely a way, and I believe it's you.”
“You're losing me again.” I grimaced.
“Not very many stories exist about the Gods—the real Gods—however, on my planet, we not only have a record of them, but also proof that they existed.” Kukulcan stopped to chuckle. “How funny that my pantheon and I are in the same position with the humans as the true Gods are with us Beneathers; no one believes in us anymore. But with the Ancient Ones, it doesn't matter if we believe or not. They don't need our blood or our adoration. They are pure magic; they create or take whatever they want.”
“Then where are they?” I asked. “If they're so powerful, why haven't we ever seen evidence of one?”
“Ah; that is where the stories get hazy,” he said. “We have the history of only one of them, and that is only because the Aaruns banded together to kill it.”
“Your people killed a real god?” I asked dubiously. “I don't know if I find that ludicrous, impressive, or offensive.”
“If it lives, it can die,” Kukulcan said simply. “But the god nearly killed my entire race in the process. It's far easier to contain them, and that's precisely what most races did.”
“How many Beneather races have fought Gods?” I asked.
“All of them,” he said gravely. “As I said; it was long ago, and most races don't remember or have simply chosen to forget. Every realm had its own god—sometimes multiple gods—and, inevitably, the races those gods created turned against them.”
“Why?” I asked.
“I can only tell you about our god and our reasons,” he said. “He was taking our children.”
“He what?” I gaped at Kukulcan in shock.
“I don't know the whole of it,” Kukulcan said, “but the record says that the god wanted to populate other worlds, and he thought the best way to do this was to plant our young on a new planet like a crop of seedlings.”
“You don't mess with people's babies,” I noted.
“No; you don't,” he agreed. “We rebelled and then battled him for many years.”
“Okay; so the Aaruns killed a god,” I summed up. “Other gods were contained. What has that got to do... with... me?” I whispered the last part of the question because the answer was already rearing its spherical shape in my mind. “No way.”
“I see that I don't have to tell you,” he said smugly. “You know it's true, Elaria. You can feel it, can't you?”
“Darkness,” I whispered. “They made it sound evil.”
“Good and evil are relative,” Kukulcan shrugged. “When someone holds tremendous power there will always be those who perceive them to be evil; simply because their desires differ.”
“It was just a black ball,” I
kept speaking in a low tone; as if voicing it any louder would make it real.
“That was what you came into contact with?” He asked with obvious interest. “An orb?”
“Yeah; that's what they called it.”
“Who?”
I went quiet and narrowed my eyes at him.
“All right.” Kukulcan held his hands up. “I won't press you to tell me where the key is. Honestly, I want no part of it.”
“It's a key?” I jerked up straight.
“I believe so.” He nodded. “I've heard stories about how the other gods were confined; locked away with pieces of themselves used to bind them.”
“So, it's a key and a piece of an ancient god?” I gaped at him.
“Or goddess.” He shrugged. “I don't know which Ancient you met.”
“I didn't meet anyone; I didn't even touch the damn thing,” I huffed.
Kukulcan blinked in surprise. “That trace in your mind was only from being near it?”
I nodded.
“I knew you were what we needed,” he said smugly. “Don't worry; you shall be treated like a queen—like a goddess. You will want for nothing while you're here.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I growled. “Why are you keeping me here?”
“To use as leverage against the god, of course.” Kukulcan lifted his brows at me. “It's awake now, and it will find a way to break free. The strength of it in your mind proves that to me. When it does, it will search for you, and I will offer you in return for its alliance.”
“You're out of your damn mind,” I huffed. “It's not getting free, whatever it is, and it's not going to come to Earth to find me. You'll be keeping me here for a long time without good reason.”
“I disagree,” he said primly.
“Why do you need it?” I snarled. “You have your plan; go do that.”
“This plan is safer.”
“Dealing with a real god—one who did something bad enough to get it locked up—is safer?” I cocked my head at him.
“I was an imprisoned god,” Kukulcan lifted his chin. “I will not judge another without all the information. And I will do whatever I have to do to keep my people safe and free.”
“Good for you, Evita,” I huffed.
“You will remain here as an honored guest until the god comes for you,” he said airily. “Then you will go to your destiny.”
My stomach clenched in fear; he sounded really convincing.
“What if I could find a non-violent solution to your issue with the Angels?” I offered.
“What solution?” Kukulcan frowned thoughtfully.
“A truce,” I said eagerly. “If the Maya and the Angels could come to an agreement, there wouldn't have to be a war.”
“They would never make a truce with us,” he scoffed.
“Why not? It's been centuries, right? Maybe they don't want to fight,” I said. “Maybe they'd be open to something reasonable.”
“Like what?”
“What do you want?” I shot back.
“Mexico,” Kukulcan said immediately. “It was ours, to begin with, and we want it back; nothing less will suffice.”
“Christianity has spread over the world,” I pointed out. “I think the Angels might be open to giving up Mexico.”
Kukulcan narrowed his eyes at me and then sighed. “And how can I trust you to argue on our behalf?”
“Peace is in my best interests as well,” I reminded him. “And I give you my word; look into my mind to verify my honesty.”
I opened myself up and felt Kukulcan's presence immediately. He frowned as he searched my thoughts but finally nodded.
“All right, Spellsinger,” he said. “If you can win us a truce, I will be grateful. You'll have an alliance with the Maya; a favor you can call in. However, if you do not, the Old God will not be the only one coming for you, and exterminating the Blooder race will only be the beginning of my vengeance.”
“Understood,” I agreed and stuck out my hand.
Kukulcan looked at my palm consideringly and then shook it.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I got back into my jeans and T-shirt before I traveled to Kyanite. I admit that I took the dress Kukulcan made me; it was just too pretty to leave behind, and I felt like I deserved it for what he'd put me through. My consorts weren't at Kyanite Castle; not that I was expecting them to be. They were probably frantic; I would have been if one of them had been taken by a crazy Maya. I immediately contacted Torin to find out where they were and let them know that I was all right.
“Elaria!” Torin's shout vibrated in my ear.
“Ow! Damn it, Torin, you know I have this thing inside my ear, right?”
“Are you all right? We've been scouring Veracruz for any sign of you or those Maya.”
“I'm fine; we came to an arrangement,” I said. “I'm in Kyanite; Kukulcan returned my traveling stone and contact charm, and I came straight here.”
“We'll be right there.” Torin's voice faded away seconds before he appeared before me with my other consorts.
I was swept up into relieved hugs.
“You were in my arms, and then you weren't,” Gage said with a shaky voice. “That was the worst feeling I've ever had.”
“What happened?” Declan asked. “Did you sing that fucker under your spell or did you kill him?”
“Sit down, everyone.” I waved them to the dining table. We were on the first floor of my tower suites. “And I'll tell you everything.”
For the next half an hour, that's what I did. I explained what Kukulcan had done—or rather, not done—to me, what he wanted me to do for him, and what he was offering in return. The men had lots of questions, and I answered them as best I could. The only thing I didn't tell them about was what Kukulcan said about the orb. I started to tell them a few times but choked on the words. I couldn't worry them over something that would never happen; something I would make sure didn't happen. When I took the Girdle back, I was going to speak to Danyon about possibly strengthening whatever spells were holding that thing imprisoned. As much as Kukulcan argued on its behalf—and my own senses told me that it wasn't evil—I couldn't let something that powerful free. It was simply too risky.
When I had everyone caught up, I made another call on my contact charm.
“Cerberus, I need you to get me in contact with the Angelic Host,” I said.
Cerberus remained silent.
“Hello?”
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Cerberus growled. “Did you just fucking ask me—a hellhound—to call a goddamned angel? No; you asked me to call all of them. What's wrong with you? Have you lost your spellsinging mind?”
“So, you can't do it?”
“No; I can do it. I know a guy,” he huffed. “But why am I doing it? That's the question.”
“To stop a war between Angels and Maya Gods.”
“Oh,” he said. “Okay then. Give me a couple hours; a few days at the most. It depends if he's been drinking again.”
“Really? That soon?”
“Yeah; sure,” he said. “How are things going with you?”
“I'm good; same ol' shit, you know. How are you and Freya?” I leaned back in my chair to chitchat, and my consorts rolled their eyes.
All except for Gage, who leaned forward to say, “Let me talk to him when you're done.”
I nodded absently while I listened to Cer go on about how great his woman was and how amazing the sex was. Yeah; I was in the middle of something important, but you have to know where your priorities are, and Cerberus was my best friend—had been for most of my life. It was a priority to take the time to talk to him. Even if he did tell me things I didn't want to know; like how much he loved the new sex swing he'd installed in Freya's suite at the Vanguard, or how she'd started calling him Puppykins. This was the sacrifice I made as his best friend.
When I was done, I handed the contact charm to Gage, who jumped up to pace around the room while he talked
animatedly to Cerberus. I heard him telling Cerberus everything that had happened—everything—and I rolled my eyes. I had deliberately left out the details so Cerberus wouldn't get upset. But Gage and Cer were in the early stages of their friendship—the honeymoon stage, if you will—where you want to share everything so you can get to know each other better. I'd be jealous if they weren't so much alike. Similar was one thing, but Cerberus was intent on turning them into twins. I should probably step in before it was too late.
I looked over Gage's glowing expression and decided it could wait a little longer.
At least the Blooders were safe now, and Banning no longer had to worry about Sorin forcing him to take the throne—or at least attempting to force him. Banning's gura was back in Kansas; opening the Crouching Lion for business again. One hurdle down. Now, I just had to convince a bunch of angels to leave the Maya alone. Sure; no problem.
If it had just been one angel, I might have resorted to spellsinging, but there was no way to change the will of an entire race. I'd have to do this the old-fashioned way; diplomacy. It was a good thing that my new role as Queen of Kyanite had taught me to be more diplomatic than I was.
“Angels,” Declan muttered with a grimace. “Why'd it have to be Angels?”
“I've never dealt with Angels before,” I said. “Are they really that horrible?”
“There are two types of Angel; the arrogant, sanctimonious type and the don't give a fuck about anything type,” Declan said. “I don't know which is worse.”
“I think I'd rather deal with the don't give a fuck type,” Torin said.
“Yes, you would think that.” Declan grimaced. “Until you realized just how very few fucks they give. Those are the ones who don't agree with how their race behaves, but they don't have the power to change anything. So, they end up bitter and rebellious; like a bunch of angsty teenagers. They stay with the Host only for the power they get to share in, and then go out and abuse that power in careless ways. Angsty teenagers with magic.”
“That sounds deplorable.” Torin grimaced.
I knew the basics of Angels; who they are, where they came from, that sort of thing. I even knew that the fallen angel thing was a myth. Demons are another race entirely; the Christian variety had once made a pact with the Angels to get what they wanted out of the human race, but they were not—and never had been—Angels. Still, knowing facts about a race and actually knowing the people were two different things. I had never conversed with an angel, so I listened carefully to what Declan had to say. I needed every advantage I could get when I spoke with them.