by ST Branton
The god flared her nostrils and hissed disdain. “Our kind?” Her indignation gave rise to a shrill guffaw of delight. “Do you honestly believe that this layer of human scum is your family? There are no words to describe how far beneath you they are. Answer the call of your superior blood. Accept the privilege that is your right and which your strength bestows upon you. Do not fritter your days away like this, doing nothing and idolizing a worthless peace.” Her expression switched instantly to disgust. “You owe them nothing. They should surrender their lives in deference to a greater power.”
The old Forgotten shook his head. A hand grabbed onto my wrist from behind, and when I turned, Shiva was there. “What do we do?”
I grinned at him. “We show this bitch what real power looks like.”
With that, I stepped through the people who blocked my path and out of the captive audience. The town held its breath, human and Forgotten alike. Every eye was glued on me.
The god swiveled in my direction. Her initial confusion quickly gave way to insult and rage when she realized I was simply some jerk who’d showed up to dispute her authority. Her lips curled into a sneer at the edges. She released her grip on the small, miserable Forgotten, who dropped to the ground with a heavy thump.
“You must be joking.” The god laughed. “I’m almost offended that this is the best you have to offer. There is nothing an ignorant, crippled girl can do to stop me.”
I tightened my hand around the top of the walking stick. The haft of the spear hummed within its magical disguise. “You forgot one very important detail,” I told her. “I’m ignorant, crippled, and armed to the fucking teeth.” In an instant, the stick was a spear and I hurled its shining point directly at the god’s ugly heart. Her body offered no resistance. She uttered an ear-piercing screech as she fell to the freezing stone, mortally wounded but not quite dead. Thick, violet blood pumped from her new wound.
The townspeople gasped collectively and shoved up behind me for a better look at the downed god. She tried in vain to right herself in the spreading pool of blood. It seeped into the ground and trickled along the cracks in the street.
I held up my hand to summon the spear and it flew back into my palm. “Whose blood from whose feet?” I asked before I turned my back on her to face the mixed population of the mountain town. Human faces regarded me calmly alongside Forgotten with no traces of fear or apprehension. I nodded. This was the way it could be. The way it should be for the future.
“This is a town that has thrived in the midst of a horrendous war,” I declared. My voice seemed amplified and strong. Shiva began a running translation into the native tongue. The eyes on me were rapt with interest. “You have thrown off the shackles of prejudice and intolerance, and in doing so, created a haven where all manner of life can feel safe. The heart of your town beats strongest as you live as neighbors and work together in harmony.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through them. People began to smile, tentatively at first but with growing confidence.
“That’s right,” I told them. “And now, I encourage you to keep that cooperative spirit alive by sending this foolish entity to her grave.” At my back, the god no longer thrashed with such desperate ferocity. She lay on her side and wheezed and gurgled. Her distress was drowned out by the cheer that went up after Shiva translated my last sentence. I smiled. “Have at it.”
The crowd surged forward and released bloodthirsty, rallying cries up to the heavens. I moved against the living current and walked away. Presently, another cry joined the cacophony produced by the town. The god screamed as they fell on her and presumably tore her to pieces. The shriek pierced shrilly through the roar of the crowd for a few seconds and then it was gone.
You are smiling, Victoria, Marcus observed. What makes you so happy?
I made no effort to conceal my joy. For the first time since we’d arrived in Indiana, a sense of inner peace had taken root in my heart. “Because, Marcus…” I clasped the medallion warmly in my hand. “I know how I will defeat Delano.”
Chapter Thirty
I sat behind the wheel of the new SUV and stared out the windshield at the stark expanse of Indiana cornfields. The sky stretched on forever over miles of dirt and snow, a landscape that had been so far away only days before. That morning, I had touched down at yet another teeny regional airfield a hundred miles east in another miniscule plane. The journey, at least, had been calmer and less death-defying. It had included a boat this time, too, and a short ride on a commuter train somewhere in Asia that was empty except for the operator and me. A slideshow of devastation had flashed by the windows while we raced through tunnel after tunnel. Even the underground stations were trashed.
After the train, I proceeded through a never-ending series of cars and trucks. I had hoped that Asia might have fared better than the West during the gods’ takeover, but the snapshot of the continent that I witnessed told a very similar story. My travels didn’t take me through the heart of any major metropolises, but I had to assume the destruction there was comparable to New York—or worse. With so many people so close together, they wouldn’t stand a chance
By the time I finally rolled out toward Indiana, I had seen enough variations of empty countryside to last me a dozen lifetimes. Of course, the last two hours had been nothing but the American flavor of farmland. All the overgrown grass and dreary winter palette had begun to blend together after the vibrant colors of Carcerum.
I still struggled to believe that I’d actually been there, stood at the base of Kronin’s throne, walked the footpaths around his palace grounds, and knelt beside the forge where he died. It could have been yesterday, or it could have been millennia before.
Still, all I had to do to prove those memories real beyond a shadow of a doubt was look to my right at the spear that lay across the passenger seat. Once I left the Himalayas behind, it never looked like a walking stick again. I liked to feel its true shape as a reminder of where I had come from—and what I had to do.
I wondered if Delano knew his days were numbered. If he didn’t already, he soon would.
The SUV bumped over the uneven, scarred ground and headed due west toward the temple. I knew exactly which landmark I searched for, and eventually, I saw it—a lone truck that stood as the last remnant of our first ill-fated mission. To see it there where I had abandoned it in my mad dash to South Asia brought a rush of every emotion I had experienced over the last week. Anger that things had gone so poorly. Fear that I was too late to save my friends. Sadness that we’d cut it so damn close that this was what the situation had come to.
I pulled to a stop alongside the vehicle, snatched up my spear, and drew it across my lap. There was no need to step out into the cold Midwestern morning just yet. I’d come there to wait again, after all. This time, however, I knew my contacts would show.
I released a deep sigh and cranked the seat lever so I could stretch out flat on my back. “It’s bad out there,” I said to Marcus. “Maybe worse than I thought it would be, which seems as stupid as hell, given what we know.”
We are certainly not at an advantage, he agreed. It is difficult to accurately gauge god activity in a period of time as short as we spent near the mountains, but it is safe to deduce that the effect has been more or less similar to what is happening here. He paused. We must hope against all other hopes that slaying Delano will be enough to begin to rectify the damage he has done.
“Okay, yes,” I said. “That’s all true. But there’s a silver lining.” I stretched my tired, achy limbs while I talked and willed energy back into them. “It’s clear that god activity is significantly diminished. We’ve hardly seen anything so far, not even big groups of Forgotten.”
Indeed, Marcus replied and once again, I could easily sense his frown. You deserved the respite, but I do find it somewhat worrying. This journey has never been tranquil. Again, he paused and I imagined his face as he searched for the right words. It strikes me as a bad omen.
I tried to cheer h
im up. “Lighten up, Doom and Gloom,” I said. “Even if you’re right, there’s not much we can do about it now. We made it back here. We can’t turn around. The only way to go is directly ahead.”
Out of the frying pan, into the fire, he said.
I grinned. “Hey, there you go.”
The conversation ebbed into companionable silence. I slipped my hand into my coat and withdrew the shard of magic mirror Marcus had given me as we left Carcerum. It still didn’t reveal much that I could understand. If I stared into the silvered glass, images took form, but I had no way to control who or what I saw and no frame of reference for the window in history. Ten seconds ago and ten years ago were exactly the same, as far as I could tell.
I put the mirror piece away and leaned my head back again to stare at the underside of the SUV roof. The calm before the storm weighed heavily on me. I grew fidgety when I thought about all the things that could go wrong or might have already gone wrong. As always, I cracked my knuckles and tapped my toes inside my boots. Suddenly, it was impossible to sit still.
Irritated by my own impatience, I sat up, opened the door, and hung my legs out sideways. The first slap of cold air momentarily chased my thoughts away, but they crashed back the second I acclimated to the temperature change. With the spear held firmly across my legs, I traced its sturdy shape—simpler than the Gladius Solis, but not bad for someone who didn’t know shit about forging. Of course, that probably had more to do with the weird magic of the god realm, but I let myself take some credit. I needed the confidence boost to fight my nerves.
Worry not, Victoria, Marcus said. You can do this. You have trained for it. And you are the last hope for the future.
I snorted. “No pressure. Oh, well. At least I have the spear.”
“You have us too, Vic.” The gruff, gravelly voice came from the far side of the pickup. I glanced through the window to see Smitty, Amber, and a thirty-person crew smiling into the cab. The old blacksmith snapped a salute. “Were contingent, reporting for duty.”
I scrambled out of the vehicle and ran to hug him and his granddaughter. “Oh, hell yeah! You actually made it.”
Amber gave me an unimpressed look. “Of course we made it, Vic. We’re freaking professionals.” She squeezed me tightly around the middle. “Besides, we wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Her brows arched. “Nice spear, by the way. Did you get sick of the sword?”
“Uh, in a manner of speaking.” I glanced at the forces they’d brought from the Pacific Northwest. “How’d you cart this many people long distance?”
Smitty cleared his throat. “Well…” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “We’ll just say it was a chore. Did you ever try to put thirty werewolves through a security line?” He arched his woolly eyebrows and chuckled. “Ah, but it doesn’t matter. We’re here, and you’re here, and we have a large bone to pick, don’t we?”
“Yeah,” I said grimly. “Yeah, we sure fucking do.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The scenery had been bad on my first mission, but it had gotten even worse since then. Great swaths of the frozen dirt, which had been reasonably packed a couple weeks before, were now churned into an icy slurry that made the journey surprisingly treacherous. Signs of an ongoing struggle were strewn everywhere, including large, dark splashes of what was probably blood.
“Something went down out here,” Smitty commented. “Serious enough that it scared them all off, I guess.” He made a full-circle turn and his single blue eye scoured the surroundings. “It was like this out west, as well. Too damn quiet. They ought to be crawling out the woodwork.”
“It’s boring!” Amber piped up. “Sniping is way more fun than doing chores in the base.”
Her grandpa smirked. “She says that like I can even keep her inside for more than fifteen minutes at a time. Always patrolling, gathering information, and spying on whoever.”
“It was real busy for a while after you left,” Amber told me. “Maybe for a week or something like that. I saw a whole parade of gods go through the forest. Really crazy stuff. One guy was basically a dragon—horns out to here, wings out to there, all that good stuff.” She paused to sift through her memories. “We had some run-ins with a few of them, but they seemed to move fast and I don’t think they wanted trouble. It looked like they were on their way somewhere.” She frowned slightly. “Weird. I mean, where do they have to go? They can do whatever the hell they want, right?”
“One would think so,” I agreed. “But I suspect that we may have missed the bigger picture here.”
I don’t like it, Victoria, Marcus said. Something must be brewing beneath the surface. This is Delano we are dealing with.
It was a statement I couldn’t disagree with, even if I wanted to. Delano began as an Apprenti of Lorcan. It was only natural that he’d be obsessed with shadow, secrecy, and plans upon plans. His machinations definitely went several levels deep.
“That crazy jackass,” I muttered. “What the hell does he think he’s doing?” I had a bad feeling that we were about to find out in no uncertain terms.
We trudged onward and slipped and slid over the torn-up snow and soil. More blood had splattered over scorch marks and chaotic, churned-up tracks. A little before the one-mile line, the tremendous stillness was broken by a resonating crash.
Amber jumped. “What was that?” she demanded, her eyes wide. Another soon followed.
Smitty furrowed his brow. “It sounds like two mountains having a boxing match,” he said. “Is that yelling I hear?”
A third reverberated over our heads and deep, thunderous voices bickered indistinctly back and forth.
I smiled. “You know, your guess isn’t that far off, Smitty. And I think these might be a couple of mountains I know.” I increased my pace and left my bewildered cohorts to follow as best they could. Up ahead, I located two enormous hulking shapes armed with tree-sized clubs who swung at each other in the vast open space. Each time the clubs connected, chunks of wooden shrapnel exploded everywhere. I ducked as a piece zinged past my ear.
“Whoa!” Amber yelled as she came up behind me. “Are they gonna kill each other?”
“Nah,” I said and ducked again. “They’re only horsing around.” As they both readied themselves for two more mighty swings, I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, “Hey, guys! You’re supposed to be back at Brax’s barricade.”
They immediately ceased their altercation and peered around for the source of my voice. When they finally noticed me and my group, big grins spread across their faces.
“Human lady,” said the one on the right. He shouldered his club. “Good to see you. Am glad you safe.” He hunkered carefully into a sitting position and rested his chin on his hands. The other did the same.
“Are you guys twins?” Amber asked.
They blinked their enormous mono-eyes at her. “Do we look same?” they asked. “We not even brothers.”
“Oh,” she said sheepishly. “I mean…yeah. Sorry.”
The giants looked at one another and back at us before they burst into earth-shaking fits of laughter. Tremors rumbled under our feet as they kicked their heels on the ground. A small fissure opened not too far from where we stood and Amber gave me a worried glance.
“Twins!” roared the left giant. He coughed and sucked in a deep breath. “Funny tiny girl. No. He much uglier than me.”
The right giant grunted and jabbed a massive thumb at his friend. “It okay. He the dumb one.”
Lefty chuckled. “Yeah,” he said.
I suppressed a smile. “Do you fine gentlemen know what in the hell is going on around here?” I asked. “I didn’t think I’d see you this far in.”
They exchanged a glance. “We guard wall,” Righty said. “Like Brax say. We tell humans to go away. Not safe. Humans too small.” For emphasis on this point, he touched me very gently on the crown of my head with his finger. “Get squished.”
“And then what?” I prompted.
A cloud of confusion
crossed Lefty’s broad face. “Whole human herd came,” he said. “Lots and lots of humans and not-humans. We try to stop, but no work. So, we follow.” He nodded his massive head in the direction of the temple. “They want go there. But we don’t. We stay out.”
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve ever done,” I told them. “Tell me what you mean by ‘not-humans.’ Did you see animals in that herd?”
“No, no.” Righty waved his giant mitt. “Not-humans like us. But smaller.”
Lefty added, “Much smaller. We biggest.”
“Like gods?” I continued to fish for something specific. Trying to get these guys to communicate was an exercise in patience and Twenty Questions. “Or something else?”
“Gods,” Righty confirmed. “And not-gods.”
“All right, so we have humans, not-humans, gods, and not-gods,” I said. “How many were there?”
Lefty’s eye opened wide. “A lot,” he told me. “A lot-lot.” He spread his arms as a general indicator of measurement. “Look like whole world.”
Yes, Marcus murmured. This is precisely what we did not want.
I made a face. “Why would he—” Then it struck me like a ton of bricks. “Oh. Oh, shit. He’s on the universe’s biggest power trip.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m glad you seem to understand what’s going on,” Amber said.
“It’s…well, it’s not that complicated.” I sighed. “I lost the sword last time I was here. Delano’s had it since then, and I guess it’s made him think he’s entitled to force the entire planet to bow at his feet.”