Apollo spun, a second too late. Erebus’s hand shot out and gripped Apollo by the throat, while his free hand grasped Apollo’s sword hand by the wrist and pushed backward. The blade waggled in the air a few inches from Erebus’s face. So close, yet so far.
“Un… hand… me,” Apollo rasped. His cheeks puffed out; his eyes bulged. I watched him fight to regain control of his sword hand while his other hand swung wildly at any part of Erebus he could reach. He punched the Child of Chaos in the gut, the neck, the chest, the face, but Erebus kept right on squeezing as if he didn’t feel a thing.
Oh, crap… If I didn’t act, Erebus would have to explain another death. And the king would want to know why Nash was there when Apollo died. Plus, I liked Apollo. He didn’t deserve to have the life squeezed out of him simply because he’d picked the wrong person to accuse. I mean, this was kind of my fault.
I jumped up and sprinted the short distance to where Erebus stood. I leapt onto his back like a spider monkey and clamped my hands on his shoulders, slamming a combined surge of Fire and Air into him. He was too heavy and too cosmic for Telekinesis to make much difference, but Elemental energies could still do some damage. A tricky balance to strike, since I didn’t want to damage him so much that he got ejected from Atlantis… or did I?
“Get off me, you ingrate!” Erebus released Apollo’s throat and brought his palm up so quickly I had no time to get away. It struck me right under my jaw with almost cartoonish impact, sending me flying backward. I sailed so far I missed the pier entirely, landing with an almighty splash in the surprisingly Baltic water of the pond.
The shock of cold water, and the dizzying blow, made all my concentration evaporate. The sheen of my Mimicry evaporated with it, leaving me spluttering and flailing in the pond as curious Sylph fish came to investigate. Man, I hoped they didn’t have piranha-like tendencies. But that was probably the least of my worries. With my Mimicry down, I’d been well and truly revealed to Apollo.
“Finch?” Apollo rasped, dumbstruck. He held his throat with his free hand, now that Erebus had been distracted from his strangling attempt. “But… how can this be? You are a… Shapeshifter?!” He looked appalled and horrified, his mouth twisting.
I just helped you, pal. Why did people think “Shapeshifter” and immediately start treating us like the scum of the earth? It wasn’t as if we’d had a choice about our abilities.
“Leave him alone, Erebus.” I waded to the pier and pulled myself up, dripping and aching. My head pounded, like someone had set off a grenade in my skull. “If you mess things up in Atlantis again, Lux wins by default. Keep your eye on the ball and stop getting into petty scraps that’ll get you more than a cosmic slap on the wrist, this time!”
Erebus paused, his mouth hanging open in stunned anger. “No one speaks to me like that.”
“If you don’t want people to talk to you like that, stop aggravating them!” I retorted. My eyes darted to Apollo, who’d taken advantage of our brief chat to back away toward the dense forest.
He scowled at me from the tree line. “She trusted you, Finch!” he shouted. “And all the while, you have been wandering at your leisure, working with this deceiver! You betrayed her. She will hear of this, mark my words!”
I rolled my eyes. These already-defeated suitors didn’t know when to quit. First Erebus. Now Apollo. The trouble was, no matter how much I liked Apollo, I couldn’t have him running off to tell tales about my Mimicry powers. These little outings were the only thing keeping me sane.
Sorry, man. I flung a lasso of Telekinesis and seized him around the ankles. With a sharp tug, he tumbled backward, hitting the proverbial deck with a thud. I dragged him across the ground toward the pier. There, Erebus finished the job. With frankly blood-chilling nonchalance, he wrapped his arm around Apollo’s neck while I held him in place with the Telekinesis. Soon enough, Apollo went limp.
“You just knocked him out, right?” I asked nervously.
Erebus flashed a grin. “Of course. I am no fool.”
“See, you say that, but you were ready to pop his head off like a daisy about two seconds ago.”
Erebus shrugged. “I came to my senses.”
I held my hand under Apollo’s nose, just to be extra sure. Warm air eked out of his nostrils.
“Oh ye of little faith.” He chuckled.
“Oh me of trying to save your ass from getting shredded by the other Children,” I snapped. “You can’t go around killing people just because they get under your skin. You have to be better than that, or I can’t help you. There’s no way I’m getting tangled up in some cosmic trial because you couldn’t keep your temper!”
He faltered, staring down at Apollo with a hint of concern. “We should ensure he remembers nothing of this, for both our sakes. However, with my Chaos still somewhat limited, you will have to perform the spell.”
“Spell? What spell?” I was still struggling to see straight after that uppercut. How was I supposed to muster the focus to perform a spell?
“It is a powerful one, able to manipulate the mind. Only someone descended from the Primus Anglicus can perform it. Even if I could use the full range of my skill, I would not be able to use it upon Apollo, but I have the knowledge.”
I huffed out a frustrated breath. “Let me guess—Chaos rules?”
“Always,” Erebus replied with a shrug. “I will teach you, so you can ensure we do not have any loose ends. Otherwise, you will have to tie them off, if you get my meaning?”
My gut churned. “Yup, crystal clear. And I’m not killing anyone for you, so you best get educating.”
“Place your hands upon his temples and repeat after me,” Erebus instructed.
Stretching the anxious tremors out of my fingers, I did as he asked. Apollo’s face felt clammy, his eyes flickering beneath his lids. I hoped his dreams were nice, even if he’d turned his nose up at me for being a Shapeshifter.
“Dewch â Tywyllwch a chau'r golau allan, i gael gwared ar yr hyn sy'n rhaid ei dynnu. Tynnwch y cof diweddar, a dewch â heddwch i feddwl cynnes. Amnewid yr hyn yr wyf yn erfyn arnoch i gymryd ei le, a newid yr hyn yr wyf yn gofyn ichi ei newid. Cymerwch awr i ffwrdd o gof yr unigolyn hwn a dinistrio'r dystiolaeth, lle na ellir ei hadfer. Gwnewch iddo ddiflannu, byth i ddychwelyd. Gadewch i'r ysbrydion gario'r atgofion i'r cysgodion, lle byddant yn gorffwys am dragwyddoldeb. Anghofiwch a byw mewn heddwch,” Erebus chanted.
I gave him a blank look. “What in the name of Tom Selleck’s mustache did you just say?”
“It is an ancient language spoken by your forefather—Merlin himself. It is the first language of magic, which is why only those descended from the first may use it.” Erebus looked weirdly serene and starry-eyed, like some kind of fanboy.
“Does it have a name?” I couldn’t even begin to wrap my tongue around the words he’d just used.
“In present day, it is the Welsh tongue. However, it was spoken long before there was even a country by the name of Wales,” he replied.
I pursed my lips. “Well, you’re going to have to take me through it slowly, because I’ve never heard anything like that.”
We pieced through it, line by line. All the while, I kept my hands clamped to the sides of Apollo’s head. There was a satisfying musicality to the language, and I hoped my American mouth wasn’t butchering it completely. But that wasn’t the strangest part. With every sentence I uttered, the world around us grew eerily still. My veins rippled with something cold and powerful, slithering through me like syrup. My cells jittered with fear and excitement at the new sensation, until I realized my entire body had lit up like a Christmas tree. Pure bronze light sparkled on the surface of my skin, and the entire network of my circulatory system pulsated underneath.
The bronze energy pooled in my palms. Instead of one big current, as I’d expected, tiny wisps, like dandelion tufts, puffed from my hands and fluttered through the air. When enough had gathered, they fell gracefully and sank into Apollo’s skull. I fought back a wave of nausea
as those little lights moved beneath his eyelids and buried themselves in his brain. I could actually see them wriggling deep, unpicking the memories of what had happened. But I didn’t know what else they might unpick along the way. How many memories would he lose because of this?
“Stop what you are doing! Immediately!” A new voice cut through the atmosphere, and my hands jolted away from Apollo’s head. I swore, hoping that the interruption of the spell wouldn’t cause any permanent damage to him. Kaya exploded through the trees up ahead with a hefty contingent of guards, and… Nash, in his normal form. Melody and Luke had been hauled along for the ride, throwing me frantic looks. I had no clue how she’d guessed this might be the spot to find us—maybe she’d had an inkling, since this used to be their date spot. Either that, or she had some other way of scouring the city.
My jaw dropped as I realized I didn’t have my disguise on, either. Not that it would’ve mattered. The jig was clearly up. But right now, Kaya was gunning for Erebus.
“Kaya!” Erebus leapt up in fright. Of all the people in the world and beyond, it seemed Kaya was the only one who could say “Jump” to Erebus, and get the response, “How high?”
“I warned you, Erebus. Cross me, hurt Finch, and you will live to regret it,” Kaya seethed. I realized that, with so much magic thrumming in the air and a golden haze obscuring what was going on, she’d misunderstood the situation. She took a second to throw a vicious look at me. “And you never should have left your room!”
Yep, she was definitely pissed off… and then some.
Thirty-Four
Finch
“Circumstances are frayed between us, Erebus. Do not sever what little thread remains, or you may wave farewell to any hope of forgiveness you might have been longing for.” Kaya hit Erebus where it hurt. She had to know that putting forgiveness on the table was just about the only thing that could keep him in check right now.
Erebus bowed his head, shamefaced. “I did not believe there was any hope of forgiveness, Kaya.” He echoed my own thoughts. “If I had, I never would have allowed you to turn away from me.”
“Allowed? You have no control over me, Erebus.”
“I phrased that poorly.” Erebus looked at her desperately. “But I was not trying to hurt Finch, I assure you. He will attest to that.”
I nodded. “He really wasn’t.” Though, this looked bad enough regardless.
“Even if that is the case, you have sought to make Finch act on your behalf, performing… unsavory magic upon my dear friend. That, in itself, will not be tolerated.” She eyed the still-unconscious Apollo. “This is not a game. You cannot toy with people for your own ends. It is a battle for survival, and I do not mean Finch’s—not specifically.” Kaya cast me another sharp look, to let me know I wasn’t off the hook for foxing her with my Mimicry. Nash and the others just stood there alongside her, looking awkward.
“Survival, Your Highness?” Melody asked the important question, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
Kaya nodded. “I should have been clear with you all from the beginning. Particularly you, Finch, for I know you have gone seeking answers of your own accord. Had I been forthcoming, perhaps you might not have felt the need to deceive me.” Her tone dripped scorn and disappointment. “This has entirely to do with the survival of Atlantis. My emotions do not matter, and nor do anyone else’s. Perhaps that is cold, but it is the truth.”
“They might need a bit more detail, Your Highness,” Nash prompted. Huntress sat at his side, her ears and head bent in an odd stance of submission. Evidently, what had happened between me leaving the bedroom and Kaya’s arrival here had been tough on them both. I felt guilty. I might’ve been playing more in the book of Old Finch recently, but I wasn’t him anymore. I had morals now, even if the compass got a bit skewed from time to time.
Kaya smoothed down the folds of her dress. “Nash has informed me that you are already aware of the legend of the Luminary. However, he has also informed me that you are lacking in the most important facets of the tale. So allow me to illuminate them for you.”
I crossed my arms, staring at Kaya intently. Even I didn’t feel the slightest temptation to make a smart quip right now.
“The legend speaks of a powerful visitor from the surface, with ancient magic residing within their being and the perfect balance of Light and Dark. This visitor will arrive during Atlantis’s darkest moment, when its very survival relies on them and their power. It also says the visitor will partake in a marriage with the wounded queen and bring about the continued prosperity and magnificence of Atlantis. Ordinarily, I would not put so much credence in a story, for I am an educated woman. However, the timing of your appearance here, Finch, combined with your perfect reflection of the elements told in the tale, are too aligned to be ignored.”
“It could just be a massive coincidence,” I said quietly. I didn’t believe in them, but when it served me, I could stretch the boundaries of my beliefs a touch.
Kaya gave a bitter laugh. “There are no coincidences in this life, Finch; everything happens for a reason. You have been sent to me by Chaos itself, as the legend foretold, during Atlantis’s figurative and literal moment of darkness. Our marriage will symbolize a union between this submerged realm and the surface. A bridge between worlds—the past and present colliding.”
“Because the Bestiary is failing, right?” Luke said, nodding his head slowly. It was old news to us by now, but I guessed he just needed clarification. He’d never been the sharpest tool in the shed.
Nevertheless, the pieces were coming together, and I hated that they fit so smoothly. It was hard to deny that I might be the visitor in that legend, especially with my balance of Light and Dark. That was the nail in the coffin.
“Yes, Mr. Prescott.” Kaya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “The Bestiary can no longer supply the energy required to maintain the interdimensional bubble. If we are to carry on as we have, it will mean sacrifices—sacrifices I am unwilling to implement. A single lost Atlantean is one too many.”
“You mean drowning parts of Atlantis to stretch the energy capacity?” I remembered the ghostly shapes in the dark of the ocean, just outside the Trench, where there’d once been streets and houses… and the people who’d been part of that.
“My father ordered that without my knowledge.” Kaya’s expression hardened. “I put a stop to it the moment I discovered what he had done, but I could not reverse his actions. All I could do was weave a falsehood, for the sake of collateral damage, to ensure the Atlantean people did not turn on us because of what he did. They were informed that the unexpected drowning had been the result of a spell gone awry, performed by the hands of a criminal. I am not proud of that, but I had to protect the crown and prevent fear from spreading. Regardless, it is vital that such atrocities are never committed again. I will not do as my father did. I will not sacrifice a single soul. As I said, one lost Atlantean life is one too many.”
“King Ovid drowned parts of the city?” Melody’s jaw dropped at hearing her darkest suspicion confirmed.
“He called it a necessary evil. I called it pure evil—a desperate act of cowardice, and a lack of imagination in seeking another solution. That is why the legend is so poignant,” Kaya went on, fidgeting with the glass beads that dangled from a bracelet on her wrist. “Its ending speaks of how this visitor will bring Atlantis to continued glory.”
“It does?” I frowned. No one had mentioned that part to me.
“It says the visitor’s arrival will be so impossible to miss that Atlantis will be certain the time has come.” Her voice took on alarming intensity.
Erebus took a small step toward Kaya. “The time has come for what?”
“The descendants of the Primus Anglicus do not belong here. We came to this world to flee persecution, but we no longer need to fear. The terror has passed, and those who sought to destroy us no longer live, while their descendants have grown weaker with time. We are mighty now. We are powerful. Our bloodline
s are undiluted, which is why we must now take our rightful place on the surface. We have hidden away for far too long, and now you have arrived, Finch, to grant us our portent.”
“Tell me this isn’t going where I think it is…” I ran a hand through my hair, the back of my neck prickling with a clammy cold.
“Atlantis will rise. And then, we will rule over the magicals and non-magicals alike as generous and benevolent superiors. We are the authority that is needed to bring peace and stability back to a world that has lost its way.”
So this was what she had been planning this whole time. Anger surged through me. “If you need to raise Atlantis to save your people, fine. But don’t try and tell everyone how they should be running things. That is a dictatorship, Kaya! And the surface doesn’t need any more of those.”
“The legend will not be ignored, Finch,” Kaya retorted, evidently put out that I wasn’t praising her. “Our marriage will be the first step in bringing Atlantis to the surface—the uniting of worlds. Yours and mine.”
Nash stepped in, his arms folded across his chest. “You’re underestimating the surface world, Your Highness. They don’t take kindly to threats, and if you show up making demands, you might find yourself staring down the nose of a warhead.”
“And that’s just the non-magicals,” I cut in seamlessly. “Magicals don’t like to be ruled, either. Katherine proved that. People rallied together to fight her. They’ll nail you and your people to the wall if you try to take over. They’ve been through it once—they’re prepared for it to happen again. So if you were hoping for a warm and fuzzy reception, forget about it.”
“Your warnings do not frighten me.” Kaya stood taller, her guards bristling with arrogance at her side. “You are neglecting one detail of ultimate importance.”
“And I think you’re neglecting a few brain cells,” I shot back, not caring if it earned me a sharp introduction to the pointy end of a spear.
Harley Merlin 15: Finch Merlin and the Everlasting Vow Page 28