Gods Remembered (The Forgotten Gods Series Book 8)

by ST Branton

  Smitty scoffed. “So you think he’s rounded them up to do just that?”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “The dude’s a cocky prick. That’s all there is to it. He wants to be above everyone else.”

  Amber drew her gun. “He’s gonna be on the floor when I’m done. I’ll kneecap him from a hundred yards out. He won’t even have a chance to see it coming.”

  I grinned. “I like your moxie, Amber. But it won’t even be that difficult. He was nice enough to solve one of our biggest problems for us.”

  “Aw.” She holstered the weapon on her back again and exaggerated a pout. “If I don’t get to shoot any bad guys out here, I’m gonna be pissed.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll have a chance once we’re inside. And I know exactly how we’ll get there.”

  Amber’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, yes! I love this kind of sneaky stuff!”

  “I know.” I motioned for everyone to draw in close. The giants tilted their heads to listen. “All right, team. The plan is simple. Listen closely, and don’t fuck it up.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Our crew adopted a more circuitous route as we pushed into the heart of Delano’s territory. We needed to find one of those caravans the giants had mentioned and insinuate ourselves into it without arousing suspicion. From there, we could easily infiltrate the temple.

  But timing was everything. Obviously, the Weres needed to wolf out, but if they did it too soon, we would simply ask to be caught wandering the fields. I took a couple recon scouts ahead of the main group so that we would have ample warning. When we finally crept up on the back end of a caravan, I sent the scouts back to tell the crew. Then, I tucked myself away somewhere within sight of the transport. The spear transitioned into a walking stick once more.

  The large group moved painfully slowly because everyone was exhausted and dragged their feet. All the humans and most of the Forgotten had downcast eyes but a few Forgotten stared defiantly ahead. The atmosphere, in general, was utterly dismal.

  I waited until I heard the crew fall into place around me. Each of my Weres was ready to go in full, hairy werewolf regalia. I told them to look as run-down as possible, and to not make any sudden moves. Smitty’s silver blade arm was smeared with mud to hide its meticulously polished luster.

  “Go.” I motioned toward the back of the caravan. “Now!”

  We broke out of hiding and attached ourselves to the back of the caravan one or two at a time. As with all the other disheartened crowds I had seen, no one reacted to our appearance. We gradually eased forward through the ranks so that we could finally see the front. Word got back to me that the caravan leaders were buff-ass super-demons with giant leathery wings who apparently wielded pitchforks.

  Amber’s response to this information was, “Isn’t that kind of cliche?”

  “I guess so,” I said. “But I suppose they are leading a mob to a place of worship.”

  She cast her gaze around. “I don’t know if you can even call these guys a mob,” she said. “No one’s done anything rebellious despite having complete freedom of movement. No one’s incited violence or even tried to run. I think they’ve all given up.” A hint of sadness colored her words. “I’ve seen this before. Back when Oxylem was in charge and gathered people as slaves, they all looked exactly like this. Total zombies, doing whatever he asked.”

  “Well, if you ask me,” I said. “I think it’s time to put a smile on those faces.”

  Before I could actually do anything, a strange sensation in my chest caught my attention. I dropped back into the crowd among my friends and fished the piece of mirror from my inside coat pocket. The surface of the shard was warm to the touch, like Marcus’s medallion whenever he talked to me.

  I flipped it over to study the latest fleeting image and almost dropped it underfoot immediately. A wild rush of excitement surged through my body. Whatever Delano had done or planned to do, Deacon was still alive. A grin stretched my lips before the picture changed a little, and my entire heart crushed inward in agony. It was still Deacon in the mirror, but now, his face was twisted in horrible agony and his mouth opened in a scream I thankfully couldn’t hear.

  My chest constricted once more to see him like that. I wanted to puke and cry at the same time. The depth of his pain was conveyed so intensely that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was dying. Delano had him sealed away somewhere and slowly tortured him to death.

  Did the monster know I had the mirror? I doubted it, but then again, I knew better than to put anything past him. His sadistic cruelty knew no bounds. Maybe he did know somehow and used the knowledge to try to wear me down or get me to break so I’d be easy prey. I told myself that meant it was possible that Deacon’s torture was faked and that it was only an illusion to hurt me instead.

  But I knew better. Delano would never fake torture if he had the option to enjoy the real thing. Again, I wanted to puke. To remain in that massed caravan of despair seemed impossible now, but to blow our cover would have been a disaster.

  I positioned and repositioned the mirror shard in a desperate attempt to identify where Deacon was. He was sweaty and pale. Blood was smeared on the side of his face and a cut on his lower lip oozed around the swelling. His body convulsed.

  The last thing I saw was his eyes rolling back into his head before the glass went dark. I shook it and flicked the surface with my finger but with no response. The sour taste of panic filled the back of my throat. Deacon was literally dying, and I’d been worried about blowing our cover?

  “Fuck that,” I said out loud. I needed to find him as fast as humanly possible. I could almost hear his clock slowly wind down.

  With my heart in my throat, I worked my way to the perimeter of the group, determined to slip away surreptitiously into the surrounding field. The problems with this course of action were that the fields provided almost no real cover during daylight hours and the perimeter of the caravan was under constant guard. One of the demons blocked me with his body and stared at me through piercing reddish eyes.

  “Get back in line,” he commanded. He held his pitchfork firmly in one solid fist. I thought briefly that I should simply use the spear. I was sure I could do it and the jackass would die instantly, but a move like that would compromise our entire mission. All hell would break loose.

  “Back in line,” the demon repeated and his eyes narrowed. “I will not ask again.”

  Reluctantly, I shuffled back into the crowd. The demon kept his eyes on me for a while and I sensed his stare. Man, I so wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill all of them and race ahead until I found Deacon. Seething rage boiled in the back of my brain and clouded rational thought with pure emotion.

  Still, logic prevailed. I knew deep down that there was far too much at stake to risk anything monumentally stupid. I closed my eyes without slowing my pace and counted to ten in my head. My breathing settled and the red-hot rage cloud dissipated somewhat. “Hold on, Deacon,” I whispered to no one in particular. “Hold on.”

  “Vic, what the heck are you doing?” Amber hissed. “Is something wrong? Do we need to call it off?”

  “What? No.” I shook my head vehemently. “No, no. Everything’s fine.”

  She didn’t look convinced but didn’t pursue the subject and I made no effort at conversation. My head might have been moderately more rational, but it was still full of noise. I clenched and unclenched my fingers over the top of my walking stick. The throb in my leg suddenly felt stronger and more insistent. I fought a ridiculous urge to push out of my skin.

  The caravan stopped and the demons in front yelled something to the guards on the sides. They all snapped to attention. Through a gap in their otherwise impenetrable wall, I saw the base of the mountain of rubble rear up before us. My gaze followed its line all the way to the top. From that vantage point, the temple itself was barely visible but I gazed fixedly at where I knew it would be. I knew Deacon was in there somewhere and there was no way in hell that I would leave t
hat place without him.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The march continued and didn’t falter, even when the terrain turned craggy and rough. The winged guards goaded everyone forward and berated us constantly in a number of different languages. They cracked their barbed tails like whips at anyone who dared to resist or fell behind. One insubordinate Forgotten was unceremoniously heaved off the side about fifty feet up. No one else in his vicinity made any further protest.

  I climbed along with the masses while I gritted my teeth and seethed on the inside over my inability to do anything other than wait for an opportunity. What I wanted to do was start a brawl and escape to look for Deacon in the confusion. Five years prior, I would probably have done it. Now, however, a little voice in the back of my head constantly reminded me of my duty.

  His name was Marcus. Bide your time, Victoria. Do not throw everything away for a moment of gratification. Deacon’s salvation will mean nothing if you are both destroyed in the aftermath.

  The logical side of me knew that he was right and I struggled to take his words to heart. To punish countless others for a selfish motive in this scenario would be unforgivable. The odds were too desperate. I didn’t even have an inkling of where Deacon might be, but I still had to wrestle that primal urge into submission. The nearest guard was so close and never so much as even glanced at me—the ultimate temptation that simply rubbed salt into my wounded heart.

  I took a deep breath and held it until my lungs felt about to burst. The long exhale helped me drag my crazy nerves under control. I managed to force my hands to cease the endless clenching and unclenching around the head of my stick. The caravan wound its way through switchbacks and angled relentlessly upward toward the temple. Someone else fell with a shriek but we continued without even a slight pause.

  Eventually, the sound of rushing water became more powerful than the desolate drummed footsteps of our forced march. We finally crested the edge of the mountaintop onto the temple’s plateau. The boulder at the corner immediately drew my gaze, the god still chained to spill water down into the river below. Its eyes—pure white—were wide, frightened, and agonized.

  Behind that boulder, thick metal bars rose ten feet or higher along the back perimeter of the plateau. They formed a holding pen secured by a guarded gate that yawned open as the demons shoved us through. The temple stood beyond our reach but not out of sight like a pompous, glowing frog. It was open, too. I could see the first of the twisted pillars that lined the central hall.

  The crowd surged forward and bustled me roughly along. Amber grabbed my wrist to keep us from getting separated. We ended up crammed against the far side of the pen. My cheek pressed briefly against the bars, and I noticed something that made me pause and stare.

  Off to the side, a host of gods waited. They all looked incredibly awkward like they were at a party full of guests they didn’t know. Most constantly cast fearful glances in the direction of the boulder that weighed the water god down. They would’ve had to walk past it to reach the place where they stood.

  I was sure Delano had done that deliberately. He was a big fan of sending messages. Now, I had one for him.

  The ocean of bodies around Amber and me jostled relentlessly as more and more humans and Forgotten entered the pen. The air smelled like sweat, fur, fear, and who knew what else. The longer I stayed there and endured the constant push and thrust, the thinner my already worn patience stretched. Finally, I dragged my hands down over my face and groaned. I couldn’t take it anymore. It was find Deacon or bust.

  I nudged Amber. “Hey, get into position as best you can and wait for a signal,” I told her. “It should be relatively easy in this mess. There’s no way for them to keep an eye on you for long.”

  Amber nodded. “Okay. Although I have to say that I feel some hardcore déjà vu right now.”

  Her words barely registered as I eased through the cover provided by the massive group. The temple loomed to my right, but I needed a way out of the pen first. Near the farthest back corner, I encountered a small commotion. Security dragged some beefy, horned lunkhead away. One of his horns had broken off at the curve. I looked at him as he was carried past and then in the direction he’d come from. There was a noticeable chip in one of the metal bars, and one of them was bent—not significantly so but enough for me to squeeze through. The fit was tight and it put way too much pressure on the gash in my leg. I powered through the pain and slid out on the other side.

  Only a few people had seen me and most of them instantly pretended not to. One woman glanced at the small gap as if she wanted to follow. After a moment’s thought, she whipped around to face forward. I ducked away as a guard strolled past to make sure the disturbance had really been settled.

  Close call, Marcus remarked. He sounded amused rather than scolding. To the end, you live on the knife’s edge.

  “You know what they say,” I told him. “To thine own self be true.”

  He scoffed. No one has said that for thousands of years.

  It felt really good to break out of that claustrophobic prison, but I was nervous to be out in the open. No cover existed on the plateau except for the boulder, and that was too far away to be a practical option. I was more or less completely exposed.

  “Hey, lady!” Some of the captives still on the inside tried to get my attention. They pointed forward toward the corner I now approached and mouthed the word “guard.” I froze and listened intently. Sure enough, heavy footsteps sounded on the adjoining side and moved steadily closer. The prisoners shuffled to make space, which I didn’t understand at first. Then it occurred to me that they expected I would give up and try to return to the pen before I was discovered.

  Instead, I gave them a thumbs-up and whispered, “Thank you!”

  I ran to meet the guard head on and kept the spear hidden as long as I could until my gaze locked onto his big, ugly face. He was some kind of armored golem, bigger than the ones I’d seen in DC and far meaner. He grinned when he saw me.

  Still in motion, I grinned back. He grabbed with one huge hand but I hopped nimbly out of his grasp, drew the spear back, and forced it between his teeth. The blood that gurgled out of his throat cut off any kind of death scream and he dropped like a sack of bricks. I plucked my spear out, vaulted over the body, and went on my way.

  None of the prisoners made a sound. Their overwhelming passivity now worked in my favor. Still, I was happy when I could veer away from the side of the pen and angle toward the temple itself. From what I could see, it seemed like the front entrance was the only one and at first, my heart sank. Delano might not have posted anyone there on my first visit, but now that he was looking for me, he had to have increased the guard presence. I hesitated and my mind raced before an idea pushed into clarity. I glanced at the spear. “Man, I hope this works.”

  The wall of the temple was made of fancy, polished stone, but it was no match for a Solis weapon. The spear stuck solidly immediately below the slanted edge of the roof. I wasted a fraction of a second while I wondered if it would hold before I decided it didn’t matter. I would do this anyway. With a deep breath, I held my hand up, palm out, and willed myself to join the spear rather than the other way around.

  “Please work,” I whispered and scrunched my eyes shut. “Please—” In an instant, my body dangled over open air and I instinctively closed my fingers around the shaft of the weapon in the nick of time. I braced my feet against the top of the wall, climbed onto the roof, crouched down, and pulled my spear free.

  Very good, Victoria! Marcus said proudly. Your innovation can be quite impressive.

  I frowned. “I must ask that you not give me a performance review while I try to save lives.” One life, specifically. One very important life. “We’ll talk about a promotion after this is over.”

  With the spear slung onto my back, I dropped prone and crept along the roof on my stomach while I kept the spread of the plateau in my periphery. Guards circled the pen like sharks, inside and outside. They c
ontinued to thrust prisoners in through the gate like livestock held for slaughter.

  A domed skylight was positioned in the center of the temple roof. It was dark, however, and as I leaned close to peer through the glass, I realized that it was too high up for the light in the lower part of the hall to reach. The sheer vertical distance made me nervous, but I thought back to my plane ride and my stormy climb in the Himalayas. Delano’s temple was nothing compared to that.

  With the edge of the spear, I cut a hole carefully in the curved glass large enough for me to fit through and managed to prevent the loose piece from falling. Awkwardly, I slid it aside and rested it on the roof. I put my head in first to try to determine the best way to enter. One of the pillars made from gods stood directly in front of me and I looked into the petrified eyes of a beautiful, silver-skinned nymph. “Sorry,” I said as I hurled the spear at her. It sank home with a soft clunk, and I put my hand out and pulled myself inside.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I clung onto the side of the pillar with my spear in hand and ignored the fact that I was about two inches from what might be construed as a make-out session with a dead god. Because it was comprised entirely of corpses, the pillar provided many uneven surfaces for me to use as handholds. Once I’d stowed my spear on my back, I started to clamber down. I could have been more careful about it, but most of my brain and common sense had been swamped by my need to reach Deacon. It was hard not to picture the way his face looked in the mirror—so full of pain and suffering.

  In my heart, I had known immediately that he was dying but I refused to accept it. I was determined that his death would not become a reality. He was the one person I absolutely could not lose.

  I maintained a half-wary lookout for guards during my hurried descent and landed to push myself immediately into a run. No footsteps charged after me, so I didn’t bother to look back. As I darted out of the central hall, I yanked the mirror shard from my coat pocket and looked at it. Deacon was there but only for a split second. He vanished in an instant.