Page 31

I paused for a moment to take stock while we all tried to remember how to breathe. We’d left the car barrier behind, which from this side had clearly been put there deliberately—to keep the gods out fifty years ago? Or to keep us out now?

I didn’t know, but it was solid, the pieces having been welded together into an impressive partition. It linked up with other stretches of “wall” for as far as I could see in the darkness on either side, made up of anything that could be scavenged from the ruined sections of the city. That included pieces of broken buildings, ripped-up sidewalks, concrete offramps and barriers, light posts, roofing, an upside-down semi-truck and trailer, and what looked like part of a blue pool liner, now discolored and droopy, half-melted by fire and yet still bearing the imprint of a cheerful-looking, green turtle.

And what was inside said partition... well, that was different.

Ringed by a desert wasteland, a barrier of burnt-out junk, and a pile of collapsing buildings was something that, while not a paradise, was closer than anything I’d seen so far. It started as a shanty town, which was what we were currently on the edge of, with little aluminum, plywood, and tarp-covered huts and disintegrating tents forming a maze for what looked like miles. But in the distance was something far less expected.

I couldn’t see it well at first, just a smear of brilliant lights above the wonky smokestacks of the makeshift town. But Mircea showed it to me, with my vision abruptly zooming ahead as if I was using high-powered binoculars, ones I didn’t need because vampire eyes were better any day. And gave me glimpses of glittering fountains, manicured gardens, and whole, untouched buildings, many with their original signs still in place.

Palms likewise still swayed slightly in the night breeze, backlit by orange and pink explosions from our allies on the other side of the city. People still moved around, although in horse-drawn carriages instead of cars, as I guessed the gasoline had given out a long time ago. And a neon cocktail glass half a story high still lit up the night, although whether there were any drinks on offer, I couldn’t tell.

I also couldn’t tell if there were any gods around, which I should have been able to if they were the size of the ones outside. But were they? Would they expend the energy if they weren’t worried about fighting for survival or trying to impress?

I didn’t know, but no fifty-foot-tall giants were striding about the landscape. In fact, the city looked weirdly peaceful, and except for the horses, some of which were now rearing in fright at the loud noises, almost normal. Which was the most obscene thing I thought I’d seen yet.

Then, a wave of dizziness hit me hard enough that everything skewed wildly. But Mircea didn’t steady it, maybe because he wasn’t in charge of what was happening, after all. It seemed that he hadn’t lent me his skill so much as I’d taken it.

I’d done that sort of thing once or twice before, and he’d done it to me, but this time was different. This time, I wasn’t just borrowing abilities. I glanced at Mircea, disoriented and off-kilter, and saw my own face looking back at me.

It was his features—dark, expressive brows, whiskey-colored eyes, high cheekbones, and sensual lips—down to the livid scar that even vampire healing abilities hadn’t been able to touch. But to my confused brain, they registered as mine. And when I tore my gaze away, focusing on the city again to try to sort out my messed-up head, it flickered back and forth and shook at the edges because I was suddenly seeing through three pairs of eyes spaced too far apart.

“Dante’s,” Pritkin said, pointing at a livid hulk on the horizon, just peeking out from behind another building. But mine and Mircea’s lips moved at the same time.

And then the weird, triple-vision steadied, and I was staring at a shadow moving behind the curtains separating the expansive balcony of my penthouse from the living room. I couldn’t see who was casting it, but somebody was awake. And looking so close that it felt like I could reach out and—

“Yeah, but how do we get there?” Alphonse said, jolting me back to myself. “The damned ghosts have deserted us!”

“Are they coming back?” Someone asked; I think it was Zara.

I looked at Hansen, who I was still carrying around like a clutch bag, and belatedly let him go. “Are they?” I croaked, surprised to hear my own voice emanating from my lips.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “If Billy Joe was here, there’d be a better chance. They listen to him—”

“But I sent him to Rhea.”

It was a real bitch, but that was the way my life was going lately. I’d sent Billy to try to get the information we needed by just having a chat with my heir. Or, if Pritkin’s incubus had it right and she couldn’t see him without her clairvoyance, not being a necromancer, he was to scope the place out and let us know what we were walking into. The ghosts were supposed to take us to rendezvous with him, but so much for that idea.

As usual, we were doing this the hard way.

“We’re on our own,” I guessed, and Hansen didn’t deny it.

“Well, this is just great!” Alphonse exploded. “How the hell are we supposed to get there now?”

“Walk?” Purple Hair said dryly. “It’s not that far—”

“You know damned well what I meant!” Alphonse said, with enough menace in his tone to have her reach for her wand.

“He’s right,” Topknot announced, pushing her hand down. “It’ll take hours to walk that far, and our allies won’t be able to keep up the attack for anything like that long.”

“And those bastards will spot us sure as hell,” Butch Cut agreed. “As soon as we get anywhere close.”

“Maybe not.” That was Enid, who was surveying the shanty town with narrowed eyes. “These are the servants’ quarters, housing for those who do the work the gods can’t be bothered to. Cooking, cleaning, errand running—”

“So what?” Alphonse demanded.

“They’re gods ,” ?subrand added. “They may not need any of that.”

“Well, they need something,” Enid pointed out. “They’re protecting these people, or they wouldn’t have lasted this long, and feeding them, too. Or allowing them to feed themselves,” she added, looking at a nearby, struggling patch of garden.

“We call them the Craven,” Gray Curls said and spat on the ground. “They’re the ones who decided that worshipping the gods was better than death, and look what they received in return. Survey the bounty their bootlicking bought them!”

“Some do better than this,” Butch Cut said. “Those who live in the city proper—”

“Those who live under the knife, you mean! With a blade constantly at their throats!”

“The gods keep them around for ego,” Zara explained to me, “and as an enticement for the demons desperate enough for a power boost to risk coming to Earth.”

“Staking out gazelles at the watering hole,” Pritkin murmured.

The gray head nodded. “Something like that. A lot of the lesser sort can’t travel the hells or don’t dare with the war raging there. They prefer for their prey to come to them.”

“The demons who venture here desperate for power keep the idiot squad outside fed,” Butch Cut added. “Along with any humans who run afoul of their masters and get thrown over the wall. In return, the Mindless protect the gods who matter against attacks by resistance groups like the Circle. To get to the big shots, you have to wade through all that.” She hiked a thumb at the chaos behind us.

“In other words, humans are meat,” Zara said bitterly. “Kept to raise the next generation and keep this whole nightmare going.”

“The war party wanted to attack the gods while the demon wars were keeping them occupied,” Topknot added. “Trying to make this world too risky for them to bother with having it as their headquarters.”

“Sounds good to me,” Alphonse commented.

“Does it?” Zara snapped. “And what do you think will happen to these people, and all the rest like them, when there are no curbs on what the Mindless can do anymore? As soon as the gods who matter leave, those monsters will run amok, killing everything and everyone they find. But did the war party ever think about that? ”

“They want to go down fighting,” ?subrand said, fingering his spear. “It’s understandable.”

“It’s folly! Getting people into safe zones before the damned gods move into the hells and leave us to the tender mercies of their idiots was the only way to survive!”

“There is no way to survive this,” he said, looking around, his face expressionless. “There is only death here. Can’t you smell it?”

“That’s the latrine,” Gray Curls said dryly. “Plumbing stopped working a while ago. They mostly use open trenches now. Probably why half this place has dysentery, but the gods don’t care. They can’t catch it—”

“So you’re saying we just walk in?” Purple Hair, who had been growing more and more restless at the history lesson, interrupted to ask Enid. “Act like we own the place?”

“No. We act like we serve the place,” said the woman who had spent her whole life doing exactly that. “Nobody pays any attention to servants. They often don’t look at us twice, any more than you would a chair or table. It’s just there to serve its function and requires no notice unless it’s malfunctioning. Otherwise, it may as well be invisible.

“Just like we will be.”

“Yeah, except they’re expecting us,” Alphonse pointed out. “And a lot of us don’t look like servants—”

“And what does a servant look like?” she challenged, eyes flashing.

They continued to argue, but I wasn’t listening anymore because Mircea was suddenly in my head. What just happened? he asked, sounding as shaken as I felt.

Possibly because we weren’t really all that separate even now. It was better than a minute ago; listening to the others had drawn me back into myself enough to tell that I had my own body and pair of eyes. But while I heard his words in my head, my lips moved at the same time that he spoke, as if they were my own.

I don’t know.

That is... unfortunate. I hoped you had done something—

Does that mean you didn’t?

No. Perhaps Mage Pritkin—

It wasn’t me , Pritkin’s voice echoed in my head as clearly as Mircea’s, despite him not having that gift. But I wasn’t sure that who originally owned a talent mattered anymore.

Then who was it? Mircea rasped.

Nobody—or all of us, depending on how you look at it. I was afraid that something like this might happen.

Afraid of what? I would like an explanation before we proceed any further!

As would I. That was Bodil.

Not now , I told her.

Yes, now. This doesn’t merely concern the three of you. We’re all at risk if the spell you share is beginning to run out of control.

What? Who said anything about that?

He was thinking it, her head nodded slightly toward Pritkin. I cannot read the other so well. She sized Mircea up. You have an... unusual mind.

Run out of control how? Mircea demanded, ignoring that and looking at Pritkin.

That is the problem , Pritkin said. I don’t know. Earlier, the spell was simply cutting out at random moments or not available at a distance, which should not have mattered to a soul bond. We were in England, and you were here, but the bond should have nonetheless connected us on a metaphysical level. I assumed the reason it did not was due to the missing element, namely my other half, but—

But what happened just now was not simply cutting out, Mircea said.

No.

Then what the devil was it?

Pritkin’s jaw tightened. I just indicated that I don’t know. Spells usually work, or they don’t, but occasionally, one will... go wrong. Morph into something unintended, as you should know.

Mircea scowled at the memory of the geis he’d had put on me as a child, which had been meant to keep me safe. But it was also meant to allow him a certain amount of control over me and my gifts. It was a choice he’d come to regret, as it was designed for humans, which I was not.

And in the struggle for control between a demigoddess and a centuries-old master vampire, the spell had gone crazy and almost taken him along with it.

Yes, but there’s usually a trigger for that sort of thing , Pritkin added, hearing my thoughts.

A trigger like me absorbing a couple of gods’ worth of energy , I said grimly. I should have known that would come back to bite me!

But you don’t have it now , Mircea said. You used it up—

But she had it for a while , Pritkin reminded us. Long enough for that much power to have done something to the spell. Something that could endanger us all. He looked at me . Do we abort?

For a moment, I thought I hadn’t heard him right. What?

Do we go back? he repeated as if that was in any way possible. Before this gets worse and endangers the mission—

How does this get any worse? I asked, gesturing at the sounds of battle that were loud enough now that people were coming out of their “homes,” looking sleepy and staring about in fear. There are no second chances! We all knew that!

Then we go now , Bodil said.

That is not your call , Mircea told her tightly.

Nor is it yours, vampire. She looked at me. Choose.

I was starting to hate that word, I thought, and glanced at Mircea and Pritkin to see how they were taking her decision to discount their input. But they were looking at each other as if still deep in conversation, one that, judging by their expressions, wasn’t going well.

You’re blocking them? I asked, surprised that even Bodil could manage that.

We need to talk.

Now?

Yes, now. Cassie... She paused and looked at me with an odd expression. What do you think the rest of us are doing here?

I looked back at her, bewildered. Trying to reach Rhea—

No. The only person who must reach your heir is you. We are here to die for you if need be, to allow you to succeed. You are the only one who can save our worlds, so you are the only one who matters.

That’s ridiculous! We don’t even know—

No, that is the truth. Everyone knows it, but you. She looked around and then spoke aloud before I could stop her. “Cassie is confused about who must survive this and reach her heir. Is it you?” she asked Enid.

The beautiful redhead looked startled, maybe because she’d been in conversation with the witches about something. But then her eyes focused past Bodil and onto me. “No.”

“Who then? You?” Bodil challenged ?subrand.

“No. Although... I would prefer to live.” But the silver prince wasn’t looking at me when he said it. He was looking at Enid.

“As would we all. But our survival isn’t required. Is it?” she asked Alphonse, who was scowling.

“You know we already settled this,” he said, surprising me. “As long as I get to kill that rat fink Tony first—”

“Then is it you?” she demanded of the witches, who stared back at her impatiently, all five of them.

“You know why we’re here,” Zara said.

“Yes, or I would not have permitted you to come,” Bodil replied with the casual authority of a queen.

“Cassie must survive,” Pritkin said. “We all understand this.”

“Do we?” Bodil asked Mircea.

“You know perfectly well we do—”

“Then who chooses?”

“Chooses what?” Alphonse asked.

Then Bodil shocked everybody by sending them a precis of our unspoken conversation, all at once, like a download straight to the brain. I saw several shudder, heard one of the witches hiss, and Alphonse staggered back a step as if slugged and then cursed. “Don’t do that!” he snarled. And then he realized what had been sent, and his eyes focused on me. “You only noticed this now? ”

“It only just happened,” I began, but Bodil cut me off.

“Who chooses whether we continue or not?” she asked again.

Everybody looked at me.

“Wait. When was this decided?” I said. “Because we don’t know that I can use the Pythian power if Rhea is now Pythia. Or that it’s still able to come to either of us at this point. And if it isn’t, I’m not any more important than anybody else—”

“We discussed it last night while you were talking to dead people,” Bodil said. “And your ability to use the Pythian power is irrelevant. If you can’t, you will find another way home.”

“What other way?” I asked, looking at her like she was crazy because she might be. “Do you think I would be risking all this if I had another way?”

“I didn’t say that you had one; I said you will find one. The rest of us won’t.”

“And you know this how? ”

Bodil gave me another look I didn’t understand. “I have been in your head for days now,” she finally said. “And it is a strange place. You summoned gods in Stratford, not to use them for power or to help yourself, but to allow you to rescue your friend. You afterward fought the Silver Circle to defend the lives of witches who had recently tried to kill you and took on a trio of gods, only to give away the power you obtained in a bid to save us all.

“And right now, this task might be easier for you alone, but you brought us with you without so much as a moment’s question, for you will not leave us behind. People you only met a few days ago, and in my case, who immediately imprisoned you!”

“What is this?” I said, frowning.

“Even now, right now, you could abandon the mission, take power from one of those creatures out there, and return to your time as the only god standing. You could complete your mother’s fondest wish of ruling all and ruling alone, seated above the world on a golden throne! Nimue would have taken that chance in a heartbeat; Aeslinn risked everything for less; Caedmon has spent the whole war maneuvering to expand his influence and his lands, setting himself up to rule all once the fighting is done. But you...

“The very idea appalls and distresses you so much that your entire soul shudders away from it. Instead, you took time in the midst of unimaginable trauma to help encourage another enemy,” she nodded at ?subrand, “when he was at his lowest—”

“He isn’t my enemy,” I said, staring at her. “None of you—”

Bodil laughed. With bombs going off in all directions now and a panicked crowd of people piling their belongings onto their backs or running past without them, she stood there and laughed. She was mad, I thought, goosebumps breaking out on my skin.

“Not mad, just surprised,” she said, shaking her head. “As I have been since I met you. And no, you don’t have any enemies, do you? The dark mages follow you as well as the light, although you killed some of both recently. You bring zombies and demons, witches and mages together, along with a host of spirits, and think nothing of it. And they follow you equally without thought—”

“They follow me because they’re desperate!”

“They follow because nothing has happened for fifty years but us dying,” Mircea said harshly, his dark eyes suddenly boring into mine. “Then, in two days, you changed everything.”

“ I didn’t change it!”

“If not you, then who?”

“You’re a leader, Cassie,” Zara said, a rueful smile on her lips. “Whether you like it or not. So, lead. What do you want us to do?”

I stared at them, feeling the ground shifting underneath me because this was my worst nightmare. I couldn’t do this, especially not now, stranded on the outskirts of the city with who knew what kind of dangers between me and Rhea. And with the only spell that might help me suddenly going haywire!

I wanted to go home. I wanted to crawl under the covers of my big round bed at Dante’s— my Dante’s—not whatever the gods had left of it. I wanted Tami to bring me some little initiates to read a bedtime story to, or have one of my acolytes stop by with hot chocolate and some ridiculously huge éclair because the roly-poly grandmas were always trying to fatten me up, or have Pritkin arrive for some alone time that wasn’t in a cramped shower in a goddamned war zone.

That was it; that was everything I wanted in the world. And the path to it was right there . I looked at Dante’s, now backlit by a strange green haze, from whichever group was spending their lives in that direction to buy me time. Time that I was wasting, as usual!

So, I finally did what I should have done ages ago.

And womaned the fuck up.

Bodil smiled at me gently. “When I first met you, I thought you would be the death of me, and I may still be proven right. But I believe that you will be the savior of our worlds if anyone will. So, Cassie Palmer, what do we do?”

“Check the tents for clothing, the nicer sort, the kind that servants might wear,” I said hoarsely and looked at Enid. “We’re going to walk right into Dante’s like we belong there.”

“And how do we get there in time?” Alphonse asked, his eyes narrowing.

“The hard way.”