by Amy Sumida
It wasn't until after he'd shifted back and was wrapped in the blanket that I gave Veja her explanation, but she'd been patient enough—and wise enough—to wait for me to take care of my husband first.
“You know about the Tablet of Destinies and my run-in with it?” I asked her.
“Yes.”
“Word got around that Marduk made me mortal. Hermes published a damn article about it in the Herald.”
“And let me guess; he failed to report your returned immortality?” UnnúlfR asked.
“Yep.”
“His absentmindedness vill not be forgotten,” Kirill said in a deadly tone.
“So, we could be fending off your enemies—who think you're mortal—while we hunt for Mokosh,” UnnúlfR said slowly.
“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I'm sorry. I didn't even think about—”
UnnúlfR's whoop cut me short. He jumped to his feet and fist-pumped the air while I gaped at him.
“Yes!” UnnúlfR shouted. “Bring it on, motherfuckers!”
Veja merely shrugged as if to say; men.
“You're not upset?” I asked, unsure who I was asking.
“Are you kidding?” UnnúlfR countered. “They're after you but they think you're mortal; it's hilarious. They'll be like lambs to the slaughter.”
“That storm didn't feel lamb-ish,” I muttered.
“Oh, it was. And the best battles are with enemies who underestimate you, Sis.” He whooped again. “This is the most fun I've had in ages.” He caught Veja's look and amended, “Outside the bedroom.”
“And ve can't stay in bed forever,” Veja agreed. To me, she added, “Don't vorry about your enemies, Vervain. Vilkacis vill vatch over you vhile you are in our territory. You are family, after all.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure. Cause you did such a great job of clinging to the boat while I fought off clawed lake monsters.”
“Hey, watch it!” UnnúlfR snapped. “We were hindered by water. Next time, we won't be so hobbled.”
I frowned and looked at Kirill. “Maybe it's time to call the others—”
“Nyet,” he cut me off. “Volves are enough. You and I are enough. Ve vill handle zis.”
I sighed deeply, looked at the three determined faces before me, and gave in. Damn, I was getting soft. Then I remembered boiling the lake water and felt a little better. Maybe Kirill was right. Maybe I'd grown too dependent on all of the men who destiny had brought into my life. Maybe it was time to remember what I could do without them. Well, mostly without them. My black lion and I would handle this ourselves.
I shifted my stance, opening my mouth to give them my agreement, and water squelched out of my rubber boots in a most insulting manner. I cursed and I looked down at myself. My beautiful coat lay flat and sad against me, lake muck caught in the fur. And then—for bad measure—the three of them started laughing at me.
I almost jumped back in the lake. At least the lake monsters hadn't laughed at me. And, as a bonus, I could kill them.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jarilo surfaced without Vodyanik.
“She's not zere,” Jarilo said after he climbed aboard. “He showed me every inch of his caves, and my mother isn't zere.” Then he got a good look at the blood splattered over the deck and our bland expressions. “Vhat happened?”
“We were attacked. First by the weather then by underwater creatures,” UnnúlfR said from my right.
Veja and I had fetched dry clothes, shoes, and towels; tracing to the Vilkacis stronghold and the cabin respectively, then I'd done my heater impersonation. Yes, we were all shifters and could have shifted to dry off but it takes a lot of energy to shift and it seemed like a waste just to get dry. A blast of fire had already taken care of my wounds. So, even after toweling off and changing into dry clothes, three of us still had damp hair. And damp hair in cold weather is never fun. On top of that, I'd only brought the one coat, which was currently hanging in the sauna, doing its impression of a wet Alaskan Malamute.
So, Veja, and UnnúlfR were huddled near me like winos around a steel barrel fire. I stood between the seats, Veja in the Captain's chair and Kirill in the other, with UnnúlfR beside Veja and at my back. Kirill's rapid shifting—into lion and then immediately back to human—had left him winded, which is why I insisted on him taking the chair. And why he was tired enough to give in to me. At least my cellphone, safe in the console nook, had managed to remain dry.
“Underwater creatures?” Jarilo asked in shock. “Vhat kind of creatures?”
“I don't know.” I shook my head. “I only saw their hands; thin, pale, and tipped with claws. The rest of them were shadowed.”
“Shadowed?” Jarilo blinked. Frowned. “I know of no underwater creatures who can cloak zemselves in shadows.”
“Neither do we.” I shared a grim look with the others. “We've been trying to come up with one while we waited for you. I can't even think of a faerie who can do that. Well, not a water faerie, at least.”
“And not vater creature,” Kirill murmured.
“What are you thinking?” I cocked my head at him.
“I zink god who made storm also cloaked creatures,” Kirill said.
I looked around the boat at everyone. “Do any of you know of a storm god who can use shadows to hide people?”
They thought about it. So did I. We came up empty.
“Perhaps if zey used storm clouds?” Jarilo was reaching; it was evident in his voice.
“Clouds underwater?” UnnúlfR scoffed. “I don't think that would work.”
“Zen I have nothing.” Jarilo shrugged. “Just as I have from visiting Vodyanik.”
“Are you sure he took you everywhere?” I asked.
Jarilo nodded. “I searched vith all senses. I vould have felt cloaking magic. Zere vas none.”
“Let's get the boat back to the dock and visit your mother's territory,” I suggested. “Maybe we can find something there.”
“Then I want lunch,” UnnúlfR declared grumpily.
“Of course, anything you like,” Jarilo offered generously.
“Be careful what you offer a wolf,” UnnúlfR grinned, well, wolfishly. “We'll take you literally.”
“I vill pay for food from any restaurant vhere you vould like to eat,” Jarilo clarified.
“That's slightly better.” I smirked and shook my head. “At least it's UnnúlfR and not his brother. Trevor would have you paying for squished duck in Paris.”
“Tima,” Kirill groaned, “vill you never let zat go?”
“Nope.”
“Do I vant to know?” Veja asked UnnúlfR.
Jarilo waited for his answer as well, but I beat him to it.
“No,” I said. “You don't. It's bad enough that I know. I'll have to carry that memory with me forever. It's a burden I wouldn't cast on my greatest enemy.”
Kirill sighed heavily. “Zis is vhat I get for trying to be romantic.”
“I don't understand,” Jarilo said. “UnnúlfR's brother vas involved vith squishy duck and Kirill's romance?”
UnnúlfR burst into laughter.
I glared at him before answering. “Trevor is one of my husbands. The squishy duck was served to me at a Valentine's dinner my husbands took me to one year... and they didn't let me order for myself.”
“Ah.” Jarilo's expression cleared. “Vell, I hope Valentine's Day zis year vas better for you.”
UnnúlfR started the engine, having lost interest in the conversation, and turned the boat back toward shore.
“It was.” I blushed, remembering the night we'd had—all of us—on the Viking longship Odin had built me; the one that was anchored in Pride Territory's lake. We were calling it the love boat now.
“No squishy duck?” Jarilo asked with a grin.
“No squishy anything.” I grinned back. “Unless you count my squishy bits which were squished quite a bit.”
Jarilo's eyes went wide but this time, it was Veja who burst into laughter. Kirill sighed again.
&n
bsp; “Can we not talk about your squishy bits, Vervain?” UnnúlfR asked over his shoulder. “I'm trying to work up an appetite for lunch, not lose it.”
Before Kirill could defend me—he was starting to growl—I shot back, “Nothing ruins a wolf's appetite; you lick your own butts.”
“Well isn't that rich? The lion calling the wolf a butt-licker.”
“Yes, and I'm a wolf too, but I'm not the one accusing your squishy bits of ruining my appetite.”
“I have no squishy bits.”
“That's not what Samantha says.”
It went quiet. Jarilo looked back and forth between UnnúlfR and me. I'd been having fun bantering with UnnúlfR; something I'd never been able to do in a lighthearted manner. Unfortunately, I have no filter and it looked as if I'd taken it too far.
UnnúlfR glanced over his shoulder at me, grimaced, and nodded. “Nicely done, Sis. Any comeback I make would put me in the dog house with Veja. And wolves hate dog houses. Point to you.”
“Thanks, Bro.” I exhaled into the dispersing tension.
“Are zey always like zis?” Jarilo asked Kirill.
“Nyet. Zis is improvement. Used to be zeir fights ended in bloodshed.” Kirill shrugged. “Family.”
Jarilo made a face that suggested he understood precisely.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
We came out of the Aether into an open tracing room with a domed top, then stepped off its stone foundation onto wet ground. I nearly groaned. I was wearing the only pair of dry boots I had left and now I had to walk across land squishier than a Valentine's Day duck. It felt as if I was fated to be sodden. Why, oh, why had I left the rubber boots at the cabin? But as we squelched our way through the marshland, the land dried out and rows of corn replaced the soggy soil before it could seep past the leather of my Louboutin replicas. A path, laid with glittering pebbles, ran straight through the fields and up to a magnificent palace.
Tapestries hung from beams along the colonnade terrace, flapping in a gentle breeze that carried the scent of moisture and green things. Not ocean; no salt rode the air, just humidity. Scenes of farmlands at harvest and celebrating people came to life in the weave of the tapestries; bright and colorful and mobile. Crops swayed and people moved across the fabric. Above these magical weaves stood a second story with a balcony the same length as the colonnade below it. More tapestries hung there, giving the impression that the palace had no solid walls, only that swaying fabric to define it.
But as we emerged from the cornfield and strode up the steps, I got a glimpse of simple wood walls; smooth and devoid of design. They hardly needed any with all those tapestries moving in multiple ways before them. A door waited, closed but not unwelcoming, with a brass knob in the shape of an ear of corn. The woman liked corn.
Jarilo opened the door for us, and we followed him into a luxurious home crammed full of beautiful, antique furniture and precious mementos from a very long life. Curio cabinets bulged with trinkets, rare vases crowded coffee tables, and plinths supported graceful statues inside wide rooms with high ceilings. It was hard to focus on any single item, what with all of the tapestries vying for attention. Yes, even inside the palace, they covered nearly every wall.
Each woven scene was different but they all moved; though the tapestries within the palace did so slower than those outside. It wasn't like having television screens for walls. Instead, it felt closer to those moments when you walk past a room and double back because you think you saw someone. Usually, that results in a shiver or a shrug because no one's there. But in Mokosh's palace, those suspicions are confirmed; something had moved, just not anything sentient. At least, I hoped not. I shivered after all.
“What's with all the creepy cloth?” UnnúlfR asked.
“My mother is Goddess of Weaving, Harvest, Corn, Moisture, and Destiny,” Jarilo explained.
“Did you say destiny?” I whispered as another shiver ran over my arms.
“Da.” He frowned at me in confusion.
“Ve had... issues vith destiny recently,” Kirill explained for me.
“Issues?”
“Never mind.” My hand flapped it away. “Long story. It's just strange that I find myself searching for a goddess of destiny now.”
“My mother vould say zat's exactly how destiny vorks,” Jarilo said softly, his expression a little sad.
“We'll find her,” I promised, cringing inside at my own words. I don't like making promises I'm not sure I can keep, but it had just tumbled out. No filter. “Let's spread out and search.”
“What are we looking for?” UnnúlfR asked as he eyed one of the tapestries warily.
“Anything that seems out of place or that gives us a clue as to where Mokosh may have gone. Use your nose; find the things she's touched most recently. When we're done, I'll see if I can pick up her scent at the tracing building and attempt to track her through the Aether.”
“It astounds me zat you can do zat,” Jarilo said.
“It's a dragon thing, but it's difficult at best,” I admitted. “As I said before, it would be a lot easier with the goggles.”
Jarilo frowned. “Marena may have left goggles in her territory, but I'm not allowed through her vards vithout her. I'm sorry; I'd go after zem if I could.”
I looked at Kirill. We have a secret weapon when it comes to wards. Torrent. However, we don't like telling other gods about him. Torrent was made from Internet magic and God magic; he was created, not born. This resulted in an unusual talent. Torr has the ability to unmake magic. He can see it like computer code and manipulate it just as easily as he could hack a server. He could even, potentially, unmake a god, though he's shown no evidence or inclination to do so. Even so, the possibility makes him dangerous. If the God World found out what he could do, Torr would have more enemies than I do.
Kirill shook his head at me; we didn't know Jarilo well enough to share Torrent with him. I nodded back; he was right. I couldn't let myself get carried away by this hunt. Torrent was too precious to risk.
“It's okay,” I said instead. “We'll work with what we have.”
Jarilo nodded. “I'll search as best as I can too. Shout if you need me.”
We spread out and roamed Mokosh's palace. As I made my way through the rooms, I sank into my dragon senses, following trails to items that Mokosh had handled. The more recently she'd handled the item, the brighter her scent. Most traces were dull, the paths going past them far stronger, until I reached her bedroom. Then the place lit up with her.
I followed Mokosh from her dressing table and into the glorious master bath, dominated by a tub on a dais in the center of the room. I trailed my fingers over everything she'd touched; a hairbrush, a perfume bottle, shampoo. It went on and on. I wandered back into the bedroom, past the temple of a bed, and into a walk-in closet. A dressing room really. Racks of clothes hung down the sides, a wall of shoes directly across from me, and cabinets down the center.
I strolled through, admiring the clothes and jewelry laid out on display in the cabinets. This was definitely a woman after my own heart. But I found nothing unusual there nor any clues as to where she may have gone. I moved back into the bedroom and stared at the bed. Four posters, velvet comforter in jade green, fluffy pillows, and more of those damn tapestries. Except these tapestries had sexual scenes woven into them. Men and women made love slowly on the cloth that hung behind the bed like a headboard. Every wall had one of the sexy tapestries hung on it. It felt as if I were standing in the middle of an orgy with people who liked to take their time. I wasn't disturbed by the pornography but it did give me a bit of anxiety; like hearing a rendition of a familiar song done too slow. I went tense with the urge to see it play out in proper cadence.
I blame that for my delay in picking up the other scent in the room.
I breathed in deeply. Blinked. Took another breath. I knew Perun's scent now and this wasn't it. Another man had been in Mokosh's bed recently. It wasn't Vodyanik either so, unless Mokosh had more lovers that her son
hadn't told us about, this scent had to belong to Volos; the man who had raised Jarilo. The remnant was thick enough to make me wonder if Perun had lost favor with Mokosh. Volos' scent had either entirely wiped out all traces of the other man or Perun hadn't visited in a very long time.