The Trouble With Twelfth Grave

by Darynda Jones

  The First Star, having regained her senses and realizing what the Dark Star’s Brother was up to, begged Him to let her cast the Dark Star into the lightless realm of her own kingdom, for it was not as severe. Not as cruel. In fact, it was a virtual paradise compared to the one the Dark Star had unwittingly created.

  If Jehovahn would allow this, she would do the Brother a favor in return. Anything he asked of her.

  “Even though My little brother sent you to a lightless realm of his own making, trapped you in there for centuries, you would forgive him?”

  “I would and I have,” she said, for she loved him, and love is forever.

  Jehovahn allowed her to cast the one she had grown to love into the lightless realm of her kingdom, but the Dark Star, betrayed yet again, vowed revenge.

  He easily escaped the First Star’s realm, only to be followed out by two other stars, malevolent ones, who used the lightless realm he’d created for Jehovahn, the Star Glass, to capture him and take him to the ruler of the realm beneath, the realm made of fire.

  For stealing his fire, the goblin ruler used the Dark Star’s immense power, his infinite energy, to create a son. A son with a map through the void of the oblivion that lay between realms. A map that had been branded on his flesh. He would use the son to help him escape his lightless realm and battle for the heavens in which the Dark Star’s Brother shone. The heavens he would one day rule.

  The son, now having no memory of his former life as a star, was tested at every turn. If he failed, he was beaten. If he succeeded, he was beaten harder. On and on, over and over, until he fought back. Until he learned to kill. Until the darkness swallowed him whole.

  His goblin father, pleased with his dark son’s progress, watched him rise through the ranks of his army to become a general.

  The father’s dream was getting closer and closer to becoming a reality, but the son could not completely forget the brilliant star he’d once seen. Glimpses of her flashed in his mind’s eye, and he longed to see her once again.

  So, the dark son used the map to navigate the oblivion between the realm beneath and a kingdom he did not recognize.

  Then he saw her, shining brilliant in the distance, brightest even among a billion other stars. She spoke to another Star, a familiar Star, and he realized she was going to be sent to that Star’s kingdom as one of its own. To advocate. To lead the lost.

  Just before she was sent to the kingdom to become a guide there, she turned and saw him. And she smiled. She smiled a microsecond before she disappeared into the ethereal winds that would sail her to her new life.

  Being closer to the kingdom, the son decided to join her. He gave up everything, even his memory, to be born into the kingdom as one of their own.

  But his goblin father, upon learning of his son’s deceit, sent emissaries to the kingdom to foil his son’s plans. And so the dark son, born to good parents, would soon see how cruel his goblin father could be. For when the First Star was born into the kingdom, her departed mother’s soul shining around her, she saw him. She saw his darkness as he waited. She saw his ruination. And she was afraid.

  For her sake, the dark son retreated to his life of misery, the life his goblin father had arranged for him. He would emerge only when the First Star needed him. Only when she was in distress. He would help her, but her fear kept him at arm’s length. Never to touch her. Never to know her.

  But he watched over her as she grew up and fulfilled her duty to the kingdom’s Star. The Star known as Jehovahn.

  “Are you finished?” Cookie asked, tapping me on a leg with her book. Having read the first one, she sat waiting impatiently for the next.

  But I sat completely stunned. “I just don’t see how this can be a children’s book,” I said, repeating our earlier sentiments. “Much less an internationally bestselling one.”

  “Is it … accurate?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. It certainly seems so.”

  I’d had every intention of reading the third book, but I needed time to absorb what I’d just read. While Cookie read, sucking in a soft breath here and there, I made more coffee, because one needed copious amounts of coffee when one couldn’t sleep, then I announced my need for fresh air. Cookie barely took note. I threw on some shoes and a jacket and went for a walk.

  The crisp night air felt good. I walked to the UNM campus and strolled the beautiful grounds.

  The book, for all intents and purposes, was spot-on. At least from what I’d been told. I still didn’t remember much of my godly past, and it had been suggested that the God Jehovah had taken some of my memories. But why would He?

  The only fallacy I’d found was in the telling of who created the hell dimension within the god glass. From everything I’d been told, Reyes didn’t build that hell dimension. God had built it for His little brother. But with the author so right on everything else, why would he get that wrong?

  “Given up on me yet?”

  I turned to see Reyes following me, strolling aimlessly just as I was. Or pretending to. His walk was that of an animal, full of power and grace, stalking its prey.

  I continued my walk and let him follow, not knowing if we were in a dream or reality. Maybe it was both.

  “Never,” I said, dipping my fingertips in a fountain as I walked. “They’re coming for you. The angels.”

  “Aren’t they always.”

  “They’re sending an army.”

  “To do what? Glare at me harshly? They cannot take me down, and they know it.” He stepped closer. “But you can. Shall we meet on the battleground and finish what we started?”

  His suggestion startled me. The battleground? I could no more imagine myself doing battle with a god than I could imagine myself hula dancing. “Is that what you want?”

  “I want the embers.” His voice, deep and bourbon-smooth, trickled over my skin.

  “I want world peace,” I said, tired of fighting. Of battles. Of conflict.

  Then he was at my back, wrapping his arms around me from behind, one at my waist, one at my neck. He buried his face in my hair and growled.

  I’d craved him so badly, I sank against him, fitting my body into his as though we were puzzle pieces. As though we were lock and key.

  “I didn’t betray you,” I said, remembering the book and how the Dark Star had believed the First had betrayed him.

  His mouth found my ear, his breath hot against my cheek, when he said, “Of course you did.”

  And just like every other time Reyes had entered my mind, I jerked to awareness. I whirled around, seeing only the deserted campus.

  Did he truly believe I’d betrayed him? If anything, it was the opposite. He’d betrayed me, or the First Star, whatever the case may be.

  I needed answers, and this was getting me nowhere. It was time for a sit-down. I hurried home and found Cookie reading the third book.

  “I’m going for a drive.”

  “Okay,” she said, waving one hand absently, completely absorbed in the book.

  “I’m going to have a little talk with Reyes’s big Brother.”

  “Good for you, hon.”

  After grabbing my bag and keys, I left her to her own devices, but just as I closed the front door, I heard her belated, “Wait, what?”

  13

  Apparently, “Just fuck me up” is not

  an appropriate coffee order at Starbucks.

  —MEME

  I drove out to our old stomping grounds, a gorgeous abandoned convent that Reyes bought when I was pregnant with Beep. It sat nestled in the Jemez Mountains, about an hour northwest of Albuquerque.

  I maneuvered Misery around trees and through a dry riverbed until the convent came into view. We’d lived there for eight months, and seeing the structure again caused a gentle ache in my heart. It seemed like years since I’d seen it. In reality, it had only been a few months. Wait, no, two. Only two months? It boggled my mind.

  I searched for the hidden key and found it in a fake turtle beside the d
oor. Better than a real turtle, I supposed. I opened the door and toured the place, using the flashlight on my phone. Stepping out the back door, I could see the clearing where Cookie and Uncle Bob married, the copse of trees where a group of hellhounds snarled and snapped at me, the well I’d fallen into and had a child. Not a typical birthing story, but definitely one for the record books.

  I sat on a bench surrounded by mesquite and summoned Michael. We were on holy ground, after all. He should feel right at home.

  It took only a thought to pull him from his dimension into mine, but it would take a lot of talking to calm him down. Apparently, angels didn’t like to be summoned. I could hardly blame them. I didn’t even like to be texted most of the time.

  He appeared before me, his massive wings slightly open as though readying for flight. Or a fight. Either way. His silvery eyes bored into mine, his hand resting on the sword at his side as he took a step closer.

  “You should take care, Elle-Ryn-Ahleethia.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’ll do that. But first, I want a word with your Boss.”

  His head tilted to the side as though curious about me. “Good luck with that.”

  “Now, please.”

  The look on his normally stoic face was one of incredulity. “Have you ever heard the phrase be careful what you wish for?”

  I bowed my head and stared at him from underneath my lashes, concentrating as hard as I could. Not on Michael, but on his Father. On Reyes’s Brother. I didn’t know His real name. I only knew the names we humans had given Him. Then again, maybe I didn’t need it.

  With deliberate intention, I focused all my energy and whispered one word. “Now.”

  Michael transformed into a sea of smoke and vanished, and for a moment I thought I’d lost the game.

  Then I felt it. A power like nothing I’d ever experienced. Like nothing I’d ever dreamed possible. It flowed through me as though I were a veil of silk filtering its essence.

  I whirled around to find … Him.

  The power emanating out of Him was impossible to mistake as anything other than Jehovah. I stood motionless as I took in the form He’d chosen: a young boy of Indonesian descent. Interesting, since the books I was reading were written by an Indonesian boy.

  “You rang?” He said, His voice like an ocean drowning me in its warmth. He sat cross-legged on a boulder a few feet away.

  “I read the second book.”

  “And?” He asked the question as though He already knew I’d read it. Then I realized He did. I had once dissipated and joined all living things around me, and I knew everything about each and every person for a thousand miles.

  “Is it true?”

  “Which part?”

  “I’d always thought You created the god glass for Reyes. You’d built a hell dimension just for him.”

  “Did I?”

  “That’s what I’m asking.”

  “Hell dimensions aren’t really My thing.”

  My thing? His colloquialism surprised me.

  “Then it’s true? You tricked him into creating it all the while knowing You’d lock him inside?”

  “You forget the most important part.” He lifted a knee and planted an arm on top. “He created a hell dimension solely for you as well.”

  “But he released me.”

  “Ah, yes, when he realized he loved you. Is that how the story went?”

  I knew I didn’t have a lot of time. God had to be a busy Guy. I wanted to ask my most important question, but I also longed to understand their relationship. The dynamics of it. The form. “If the story is true and Reyes creates hell dimensions, why do You have him do all Your dirty work?”

  He didn’t take offense. He leaned back in mild interest. “We are gods, are We not? We create. We shape. We mold. Rey’azikeen is no different. He just thinks a little darker than most. He is a little darker than most. That darkness he embodies comes in handy.”

  “Are You saying the darkness Reyes creates is truly from him? A part of his essence?”

  “We all have Our strengths.”

  Talking to God was as bad as talking to Michael. I sighed and said almost hesitantly, “I’m told we were once friends.”

  “We were.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I don’t remember. Did You steal my memories?”

  “That was part of the agreement. It’s all in the contract.”

  My lids widened. “There’s an actual contract?”

  He laughed softly. “No. And if there had been, you would’ve been in breach, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Why?”

  “Your job was to either tame My brother or devour him. It would seem you did neither.”

  “Is that why You would send an army after Your own brother?”

  “He must be stopped. You had your chance, so…”

  “What did he do that was so bad?”

  He lowered His head as though overtaken by sadness. “That is between Us.”

  “I need more time.”

  “I gave you a day. You’ve squandered it.”

  “No. I just … I don’t know what to do. How to reach him.”

  “It won’t matter either way.”

  “You don’t know that.” I stood and started toward him. Michael appeared instantly, blocking my path with a steely arm.

  “I’m not giving up on him. I’ll fight alongside him if You send Your army.”

  His gaze traveled the length of me. Assessing. Analyzing. “You win. I’ll give you eternity.”

  I narrowed my lashes. “There’s a catch.”

  “Isn’t there always?”

  “What is it?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  “You won’t need an eternity. He’ll find what he’s looking for, and you’ll have a decision to make.”

  “Okay, when will he find what he’s looking for?”

  “Within hours. Unless you find him first.”

  Before I could ask anything else—for example, what Reyes was looking for—He and Michael both disappeared.

  I sank onto the bench again. I’d at least gained more time. Or had I?

  * * *

  Even driving back to Albuquerque as dawn broke over the horizon, the colors splashing across the sky like watercolors dropped from heaven, could not bring me out of my agitated state. I couldn’t decide if I should be depressed or in a full-blown state of panic.

  Artemis, sensing my mental issues, sat across the console, her ass in the backseat, her head in my lap. She’d popped in to comfort me. The fact that her giant head made driving a little trickier than usual meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. She was a keeper. And thankfully, while my arms had to rest on said giant head, the steering wheel was not an obstacle. For her.

  I scratched her ears. “We have to come up with a solution, girl. If you were an angry god, what would you be searching for?”

  I had only hours before Reyes would find whatever that may be. I needed to know now. His finding it would force me to make a decision. Unless it was a nuclear warhead, I couldn’t see why I would have to make a decision. I was so bad at decisions. And decision fatigue was a real thing. I’d read about it.

  “What would a god need? More power? We have a lot as it is.”

  Artemis had deigned to clean my entire arm, licking me from wrist to shoulder. Because my clothes were no barrier against her tongue, a tongue that went on for days, she could lick me from head to toe unhindered.

  When she went for the armpit, however, I had to put a stop to her ministrations. I had just put on deodorant. And I was ticklish.

  “Maybe he’s searching for something we could never have access to. Like”—I grabbed my hair with one hand and pulled—“like what? What would a god need?”

  The only thing I could come up with was the god glass, but it had been destroyed. He was searching for embers and ashes. Okay, so like the remains of a volcano? A nuclear explosion? A campfire?

  I ground my teeth as Artemis, reacting to my frustration, hop
ped up and dove for my face. Thank Reyes’s Brother I wasn’t wearing any makeup.

  Wait. I perked up. Well, first I fended off the ninety-pound Rottweiler, eased off the gas, and swerved back into my own lane. Then I perked up. Maybe I could trick Reyes into telling me. If I summoned him, I could offer to help. I could assist him in his search.

  “I wouldn’t suggest it.”

  His voice, like warm honey, washed inside me, weakening my already strained muscles.

  I glanced to my right. He sat in the passenger’s seat, his shoulders wide, his knees spread, his body almost too big for the small space.

  Artemis jumped, then eyed him, unsure if he were friend or foe. Slowly, she crawled into my lap, all ninety pounds of her, and looked back at him with a whimper. I was right there with her.

  He’d turned to where his right shoulder leaned against Misery’s door so he could face me. His dark eyes shimmered in the dawning light, absorbing the colors, reflecting them back at me. His straight nose and full mouth sat at such perfect angles, they screamed sensuality without the slightest effort. Like a supermodel or a cover boy.

  I tore my gaze off him and concentrated on estimating the distance between cars since I had to look around Artemis to see the highway and anything on it. Rush-hour traffic had already begun. Commuters from Bernalillo and Santa Fe peppered the road into Albuquerque, making my job that much harder.

  “You wouldn’t suggest what?” I asked him, taking comfort in the fact that Artemis stood as a barrier between us. I’d wrapped one arm around her to keep her calm.

  “You tricked me once.”

  “And you tricked me.”

  He sat silent for a long moment, then said, “You remember.”

  “Not really. I just read an unauthorized biography of us. It was very … enlightening.”

  His brows slid together as though trying to understand my meaning.

  “Reyes, what are you looking for?”

  “So you can help?” he asked with a scoff.

  “So I can stop you. Apparently, I’m going to have to either way.” When he didn’t comment, I continued. “What are you looking for?”

  He pressed his lips together and turned to stare out the window. “I don’t know. He won’t tell me.” He turned back to me, his gaze so stunningly beautiful, it pained me to look at. “He won’t tell me, but he’ll tell you.”