Eleven
Liam staggered into the wall.
“You murdered him,” he said, his voice dull with shock. He dropped to his knees, his left hand going to Brax’s neck. It was a forlorn hope, but...
His hand came away – sticky with Brax’s blood.
Ares snorted. “I killed an enemy combatant, saving the life of the hero of Purgatory,” he said, casually, as he stepped over the lizardman’s corpse. “And slew the rapist of my daughter. Not murder by any stretch of the imagination.”
Liam felt cold as Ares set the blade down to lean against the wall. The god shook his head as he turned back to Liam.
“Now,” he said. “How did you get here?”
Liam gulped. “Well,” he said. “Sysminor exploded. He somehow tore a hole in Purgatory. I figured, uh...” He tried to control the tremor in his voice. His eyes flicked to Brax, then back to Ares. He let his spine stiffen. “I figured that if we didn’t get out, we’d tumble into space. Since we were in a teleport shrine, I guessed.” He paused. “Did you ever wonder why every wizard out there is an elf or a goblin or a valk or a lizardman?”
Ares waited.
“There are plenty of human priests, but no humans who used the magic of the Ancients.” Liam rolled his shoulders. “Because it’s not magic. Is it?”
Ares spread his hands. “Magic. Technology. Is there a difference at a certain point?”
Liam nodded. “So, we were going to die. And I figured that the systems of Purgatory, if they still worked at all, would want to rescue one of their citizens. Brax is - was - a lizardman, and they’re natives.” He shrugged. “And I have a translation spell. Meg put it on me when we first met. The spell turns my English into Latin or Greek or Coptic depending on who I am speaking to. Since I had nothing left to lose, I tried talking to the computer controlling the teleporter. Fortunately, it worked.” He grinned, ever so slightly. “And the Ancients had a word for emergency teleport.”
Ares chuckled. “Very clever, mortal. I can see how you defeated my daughter.”
He stepped away from the crystal bulbs that sat on his desk, finger trailing along the wall.
“So, here is what is going to happen, Liam Vanderbilt of Earth. You are going to return to your friends. You are going to tell them whatever you want – but the world will know that Ares aided in the slaying and defeating of the worst threat we have ever faced. With Sysminor and Brax dead, the lizardmen will be scattered to the winds and crushed. And with the deaths of Sif, Odin and Athena-”
Liam’s eyes widened.
Ares shrugged. “Surrender orders get muddled in times of war. We couldn’t have known that the lizardmen stationed at their cages were told to execute them.” He smiled, eyes cold. “With them dead, the Aesir and the Dodekatheon will fall into chaos.”
“Kind of a low opinion of your fellow Olympians?” Liam asked at that. Athena may have been smart, but she wasn’t the lynchpin of their pantheon.
Ares snorted.
“They will have help with their demise, help that will be unnoticed without the Goddess of Wisdom around. Brigid cannot be trusted, considering the magic she shared with Sysminor. The world will look to leaders.”
He gestured to himself, then to Liam.
“It will have them.”
Liam’s throat felt dry.
Ares held out his hand.
Liam took the hand with his right, not wanting to smear the god’s hand with blood. He felt a cold presence flood his mind and had just enough time to kick himself for being an idiot.
Thanks for letting me know you plan to betray me, mortal, Ares said, his voice echoing inside Liam's skull. His hand clenched and Liam gasped, falling to one knee, pain shooting through his body. Ares’ face was a mask of fury – all control crumbling away as he squeezed Liam’s hand harder and harder. Bones grated and blood started to drip between Ares’ fingers.
“You didn’t think I could see your plans for betrayal?” Ares snarled. “You’re as bad as my whore of a daughter. All of you ignorant, short lived mayflies.” He shoved Liam back and Liam skidded on the floor, clutching the mangled wreck of his hand to his chest. Ares shook his head.
“I was chained for millennia by people like you,” Ares snarled, pointing his finger at Liam. “Did you think I started life as a cowardly, ignorant fool? I was just Ares! Ares of Thrace, mercenary and warrior! I came to Sparta to learn of their true arts of war, and when they saw me fight, they called me Lord of War. Then Lord became God. And where my friends, my family, died of old age and sickness, I remained hale and healthy.” He shook his head. “I met the others – Zeus and Athena and Apollo. And the stories. Oh, the stories.” He turned from Liam, striding away.
“I had a real brother. A real father. But the stories said that gods must be of kin. What other way could it be?” He laughed, bitterly. “Thanks to you mortals, I became Zeus’ son. One of his few non-bastards!”
Liam pushed his legs along the ground.
“You stole my memory, my life, my everything, and now... now, I’m taking it back,” Ares whispered, his hand dropping to the helmet.
Liam’s back bumped against the teleport shrine.
“Ares,” Liam rasped.
Ares turned.
“Don’t talk. Just kill people,” Liam hissed around the pain of his ruined hand. He slapped his palm down on the teleport shrine and Brax’s blood smeared against the shrine. Somewhere, deep inside of Purgatory’s ancient machines, a genetic lock recognized a familiar pattern. Liam prayed that it didn’t get too confused by his fear sweat as he focused his mind on one thing. Not on the god before him, nor the revelations around him. No. He thought only of a computer as he bellowed: “Return teleport!”
Ares leaped forward, moving faster than Liam could have possibly imagined. A searing pain exploded through his foot.
He felt everything turn inside out.
***
Meg’s arms gave way. She was cold. She had never been quite so cold before. The ground was frozen solid, turning the air itself into freezing mist. Her body thumped into the ground and she felt the chill sapping her. Her wings beat weakly and she closed her eyes.
“Come on,” she mumbled. “I’m just a bit sleepy.”
“Meg!”
That voice made her eyes open.
She lifted her head.
She saw that someone was walking through the mist. It cleared and Meg beamed, her arms pushing herself off the ground. She felt so weak and dizzy and cold that the mere movement left her gasping for air. But Liam staggered forward and landed beside her. On his face.
She saw why. He had been hobbling along, using the wall of the canyon to support himself. His left foot was missing. It wasn’t even bleeding – it just looked like the leg had simply decided to stop being a leg there.
Liam slid forward as best as he could.
Meg closed her wing around his side.
“So,” Liam whispered. “How's it going?”
“You know,” Meg said, her voice shaky. “Could be better. I can’t get up. Too weak. Too dizzy. T-Too cold.” She shook her head. Liam shivered convulsively next to her. The two of them pressed together.
“Never thought I’d die of hypothermia,” Liam muttered. “On fucking Purgatory of all places.”
Meg chuckled. “I remember that play you told me about.”
Liam grunted.
“The one with the Jeders?”
“Jedi,” Liam murmured. He had turned his face to her wing.
“Yeah,” Meg said, her voice quiet.
“I’m not cutting myself open so you can crawl inside me,” Liam whispered.
“Aww,” Meg groaned. “You come inside me all the time.”
“Not the same!”
The mists parted before them. A figure stepped forward, clad in a makeshift set of thick clothing – bits of lizardmen furs, Cross Guard tunics, Hellenic leggings. Kilts had been wrapped around the arms, and gauntlets had been strapped to their hands. They looked like a walkin
g pile of cloth, moving carefully forward on the blasted and frozen ground.
They paused as they saw Meg and Liam and broke into an awkward waddling run.
The last thing Liam heard was a familiar voice.
“I found them! I found them! They’re alive!”
***
Liam truly woke in bed. He had woken a few times before, fluttering in and out of wakefulness. He had felt the rocking of the boat under him and known it was still time to sleep. He had felt the settled presence of a real floor under him – but also had heard strange words in strange languages and had known it was still time to sleep.
Now, he was in a bed he remembered. His left hand reached out and landed on a firm, perky tit. He nodded.
That seemed right.
His other hand reached out.
Another tit, this one larger and softer.
Liam nodded.
Also correct.
“I see someone is awake,” Mary’s voice purred from the left side of him.
All is right with the world, Liam thought.
“So,” Mary said as Liam and Meg started to rise from the bed, moving as if they were far older than they were. “There is good news and bad news. The bad news is that...” She paused. “You’re both still hurt.”
Liam found out what she meant. His left foot was gone. In its place was an elegant, beautifully made collection of brass clockwork and smooth wood paneling. It clicked softly as he wiggled his toes – his focused thoughts making it move and twitch as if it was his own foot. He looked from it to Mary.
Mary nodded. “Yes. Hephaestus himself crafted it.”
Liam gulped. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. So, instead of responding, he just slid his arm around Meg’s waist. Meg was looking like she was near to tears and trying to keep herself from bursting into a series of sobs. Her wing didn’t stop caressing Liam’s back. Her lips kept finding parts of his head as she nuzzled him, bumping him gently. It was like she was just making sure he was there.
“Meg’s injury is worse,” Mary said, quietly.
“I feel fine,” Meg said, her brow furrowing.
“The healers say that something broke in your head – you were badly hurt, and Neb healed the surface pains. You flew while something in your head was torn. By the time a healer saw to it, the injury was settled too deeply,” Mary said, quietly. “I’ve spoken with valkyrie, they all say the same thing.”
Liam looked at Meg. Meg looked baffled.
“Meg, you can’t fly,” Mary said, quietly.
“The fuck I can’t!” Meg snarled. Her wings fanned and she looked ready to start flying right here, right now. Mary stepped forward, her tail lashing.
“Wait, don’t-”
But Meg was at the window. Liam moved forward but felt his foot twitch unexpectedly under him. He over-balanced and fell to one knee as Meg spread her wings. She leaned out the window. Paused. Stepped back. Her eyes closed and she looked as if she wanted to throw up. Her hand went to her throat and she gasped.
“Breathe, Meg, breathe,” Mary said.
Liam forced himself to his feet.
Meg shook her head, growling. “I’m dizzy. I, oh gods, I feel-” She put her hand over her mouth.
Mary put her hand on Meg’s shoulder. “The valks say that some who got wounded in the same way, well...” She gulped. “They...”
“They kill themselves,” Meg said, her voice hollow.
Liam felt a fear unlike anything he had ever felt before burn through him. Everything stopped mattering at that moment. His hands grabbed onto Meg’s hand, squeezing her.
“Meg, I-”
“Oh, come the fuck on,” Meg said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not going to murder myself because I’m hurt. Come on.” She smirked at him. “You’re the one who told me how fast technology improves. We don’t know how to fix this now. But we will and when we do, I am going to fly again.” She grinned. “Just, you know, stick around to hold me when my bravado wears off and the reality of the situation sinks in. Okay?”
Liam closed his eyes and said a quiet prayer.
Thank God for Meg.
“Always,” he said. “Always.”
***
A war won. An army returned in victory – Liam was shocked at how many members of the Cross Guard had survived the Battle of the Blood Groove, as it was being called. Considering the amount of blood that had been spilled at the mouth of the canyon - an amount that got larger and larger with every retelling of the story - the name felt somewhat appropriate. But despite all the changes that had been brought to his life, there was still paperwork and meetings and worries.
The gods sat on the left side of the table, while the mortals sat at the right, and Liam at the head. Artemis, her face buried against the still regrowing hair of Athena. Loki, next to a red faced Brigid. If Loki’s left hand didn’t join her right on the table by the time the meeting started, Liam was going to start coughing loudly. A sorrowful looking Sif.
To the right, there was Laurentinus, Vani, Sunchaser, Meg, Neb – whose nose was jammed in Tethis’ notes and journal – Liv and Mary.
Liam coughed loudly and glared at Loki.
Loki drew her left hand from under the table and subtly licked her fingers clean.
“The first meeting of the Babylon Council has come to order,” Liam said, trying to sound impressive and not at all like someone who could barely believe that they were all here. It still felt downright surreal. “First order of business: a situation report.” He nodded to Loki.
Loki’s palm slapped the table. Her magic of illusions came in handy – better than PowerPoint, that was for sure. A shimmering map of the Hellenic League’s territory glowed into existence. Several cities had their names floating over them. New Athens, Hydrafont, Pluto, and more. Tiny symbols flickered into being next, showing the positions of observed armies. The map expanded northward, showing the Aesir lands.
Liam sighed as he saw the symbol of Thor over Wodan. The city’s name might need to change now.
“The first rule of warfare is simple: no plan survives contact with the enemy.. Ares might be smarter than he used to be,” she said, her voice quiet, “But he either forgot that or got too caught up in everything else that was going well for him. He didn’t expect Athena to escape on her own.”
Artemis looked decidedly smug. Athena simply shrugged.
“And he didn’t think that Odin might sacrifice himself for his son and his wife,” Loki said, her voice dropping to a quieter octave. The original report that she had given Liam had been remarkably emotionless. Liam had wanted to go to her and hug her but he had still been confined to his bed. Odin had drawn all of his power into himself when the executioners came. The speed of Sysminor’s defeat played against them in this case, as Ares orders had come well ahead of the news that the Aesir were now free.
Odin had known the risks. According to reports, he hadn’t hesitated. His immense form had taken dozens of nulldarts and spears and magical blasts from the lizardmen stationed in Wodan. He had slain them all before collapsing. There had been a hope that he would simply fall into a coma. But that hope hadn’t borne fruit. Now, the Aesir were led by Thor with Munin and Hugin on his shoulders and Sif at his side.
God help them if he didn’t listen to his wife.
“The Dodekatheon has fallen into civil war. Ares urges Zeus to fight his brothers as revenge for how they failed to help him during Sysminor’s attack. Considering the long enmity between Hades and Zeus, getting that war started was roughly as difficult as getting Zeus to cheat on Hera. Apollo remains neutral, but if things go as they are, New Athens will conquer Poseidon’s capital, Hydrafont, by the end of the year. The Tuatha are struggling to recover from the scandal with Brigid and Sysminor’s apparent affair.” She rolled her eyes at that. “Pirates infest the oceans. And, as a final cherry on top, the lizardmen have not disbanded. This is good and bad. Good because it means there aren’t several thousand ravenous lizardmen turning to banditry. Bad because.
.. well...” She shook her head. “Brax’s army has retreated into the sea, and from all reports are coming here.”
In any other world, the idea of an army of almost six thousand lizardfolk swimming through the ocean without rest might have been impossible.
But Purgatory was a place where anything could happen.
“We can meet them with hot lead and cold steel,” Laurentinus said, grinning. “Our defenses are better than ever. And those sirens the valks have gotten? They scare the shit out of the enemy.”
Mary shook her head. “They surrendered at the Blood Groove. Their general is dead-”
Liv didn’t flinch at that. Meg quietly squeezed the elf’s shoulder.
“-their god is dead,” Mary continued. “We have their leaders in captivity.”
Liam’s heart thudded faster. Their leaders: a few high ranked officers, and a few sorcerers in nullcages. And Fizit. He toyed with that thought, and put it away for later.
“And?” Artemis asked. Multiple requests had finally gotten through to the goddess that she didn’t need to boom every word she said.
Mary scowled at Artemis. “We’re not going to slaughter six thousand men and women who have already lost just because they’re scaled.”
“They started one of the most destructive wars in Purgatory’s history,” Loki said, with the tone of someone playing devil’s advocate. “And let's not forget, one of them crucified you and hundreds of people like you. You may turn the other cheek, but what about the rest of your city?”
“The War Against the Ancients was worse,” Neb said, her voice distracted as she turned a page in her notes. Liam hadn’t seen the scribe without her nose in Tethis’ notes. She was obsessively searching for a cure for Meg’s injury, even if it took puzzling through magical theory so complicated that every other wizard in Babylon had declared it the writings of a mad woman.
“That one didn’t leave a bloody hole in the world,” Laurentinus said, shaking his head.
Liam shook his head. “We’re not going to kill them. Besides.” He held up his hand. “We have an air force. We need a navy.”
The Blood Groove (Purgatory Wars Book 4) Page 24