Blood of Gods

by Lola StVil

My eyes catch movement in the doorway and Sunday steps into the room. His eyes widen when he takes in the scene, and hope blossoms inside of me again. Between us, we can overpower Jinx and then I can use the spear.

  “Sunday, help me,” I demand.

  Sunday is still staring at the two of us, the shock on his face clear to see.

  “What the fucking hell is going on?” he demands.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS

  “SAILOR’S TRYING TO FUCKING KILL ME!”

  “Sunday, help me. Jinx is War,” I shout. “He’s the Horseman.”

  “See what I mean? She’s batshit crazy,” Jinx says.

  Sunday isn’t making a move to help me. He’s just standing there watching us with a look on his face that took me a second to read, but now I see it. It’s amusement. He takes a step closer and nods his head.

  “Indeed she is crazy. As if one so powerful as me would choose one so weak to inhabit,” Sunday says.

  I see my mistake instantly. Jinx isn’t the Horseman. Sunday is. How could I have missed all the signs? I don’t know, but I can’t beat myself up about it now. Sunday is almost upon me.

  “Jinx, it’s Sunday. He’s the Horseman. You have to let me go,” I shout.

  Jinx does let me go, but instead of letting me loose on Sunday, he pushes me to one side and steps in front of me.

  “You want her? You’ll have to go through me,” he snarls.

  I feel a strange mixture of emotions. Panic that this whole thing is about to come to a head. Fear of what will happen if I get it wrong. But mostly, I feel a sad sort of warmth for Jinx. After everything I just accused him of, after trying to kill him, he’s still throwing himself in front of me now in the face of danger.

  “As you wish,” War says.

  I can no longer think of him as Sunday. He’s not Sunday. Now all of the pretense is gone, his face is twisted in an ugly sneer that I have never seen on Sunday’s face before, and his voice is deeper, menacing.

  As he speaks, a silver knife materializes in his hand and he swipes at Jinx. Jinx ducks, but War is ready for it and he kicks out, sending Jinx sprawling across the room. War is stronger than any of us could hope to be, and Jinx’s body flies through the air. He slams into the wall and slides down it, landing in a heap on the ground.

  War gives a manic-sounding laugh and shakes his head.

  “I knew that one was a loose cannon, but I never expected him to attempt to be a hero. What a fool he is.”

  “He’s not a fool. He’s more than you will ever be,” I snap.

  War laughs again and steps closer to me. I find myself backed into a corner, weaponless, as War advances. This wasn’t meant to be how this went down. I was meant to be prepared. I was meant to have my dagger. The spear. Anything.

  “Are you ready to face your fate, Paradox?” War says.

  “Oh she’s ready,” Jinx says from behind him.

  I risk a glance over War’s shoulder. Jinx is back on his feet. He ignores War, who turns to look at him.

  “Catch, Sails,” Jinx says.

  I see a flash of silver coming towards me over War’s shoulder. Jinx has thrown me his knife. I snatch it out of the air as War turns back to me. He stops advancing on me.

  “You’re not so brave now it’s a fair fight.” I smile.

  He laughs.

  “I’m plenty brave, Paradox. I’m merely enjoying the moment,” he says.

  His words are confident, but I think I can see a flash of nerves in his eye. He knows I killed Pestilence. He knows I’m no useless kid. The thought spurs me on and I push myself off the wall, closing the gap between us.

  “Well, I hate to spoil your fun, but let’s get this thing over with,” I say, lunging forward with the knife.

  War jumps backwards, narrowly avoiding my blade. I see another flash of doubt cross his face and I know in that moment I can do this. He’s afraid of me. That’s why he chose to infiltrate a team member—so he could get close to me without risking his own neck. That’s why he played it out this way. So he could catch me unaware. Pestilence chose a kid and that didn’t stop me from taking him out, so he thought maybe if it was a team member, a friend, or my family, that would stop me. Well I am more than aware and he’s in for the shock of his life.

  I swing again and War blocks my shot with his own knife. He swings for me and I block the shot. For the moment, it’s like there’s only the two of us in the whole world. I am focused on ending this, but I realize I need the team now more than ever. Even if they can’t help me kill War physically, they can help me in my mind.

  I hear Aziza telling me not to drop my guard. I hear Jinx telling me to use my weapon like it’s an extension of my arm. I hear Rye telling me not to let my enemy get in my head. I hear them all encouraging me, telling me I can do this.

  I duck beneath War’s blade and stab in with my own. I feel it go into his stomach, but he jumps back before it becomes a fatal wound. He bleeds though, and I know I can hurt him. I can make War bleed. I can beat him.

  My victorious moment is short lived. I hear Jinx shouting at me to look out and I realize I’ve left my flank open again. War’s knife connects with my ribs, slicing through the flesh there and sending white-hot pain coursing through my body. Warm blood runs down my side and I fight the urge to press a hand to the wound. I do my best to ignore the pain and the blood and stay focused on War.

  I feel warmth in my tattoo and I can no longer feel the pain in my side. The warmth focuses me, and I look War in the eye. I run towards him, my knife raised. He sidesteps and my blade misses him, but my body collides with his and we go flying. He slams down on his back with me on top of him. He looks a little dazed, and I know this is my chance. He won’t be dazed for long and he won’t let his guard down again.

  I bring my knife up and before I can chicken out of it, I run it across his throat. A split opens up there, red and ragged, like the grin of an insane clown. Blood begins to spurt from the wound and I know this is it. I have to get the spear and I have to end War and save Sunday.

  No pressure then.

  I push myself up, wincing as my palms slide slightly in the blood on the ground. I glance down at them as I straighten up. They’re slick with blood. It’s a good visual of what will happen if I get this wrong. Sunday’s blood will be on my hands. Figuratively and literally.

  I move to the bed and dig underneath my pillow. I send up a silent prayer to the gods to give me the strength to do this and the knowledge to time it right. I take the spear in my hand and touch my tattoo with my other hand. The spear jumps in my hand and it is full size again.

  I turn back to Sunday. Jinx is kneeling beside him, holding his hand.

  “I can’t believe we’re losing another team member,” he says, looking up at me with tears shining in his eyes.

  “There might be a way to save Sunday and get rid of War. But if I mess it up, I’m sending Sunday to limbo for an eternity of misery. Nexus warned me against even trying it. But I have to try it. Don’t I?”

  The uncertainty comes through in my voice, but Jinx nods his head quickly.

  “Yes. You have to try. If it fails, Sunday will get comfort from the fact you at least tried to save him. Please, Sails, you have to try.”

  I nod my head. He’s only confirming what I already know, but it’s good to know that someone agrees with me.

  “You can do this, Sailor,” he says.

  I’m not so sure I can, but I nod my head anyway. I move to Sunday’s body and stand beside him. I hold the crystal tip of the spear above the wound in his neck. At first, nothing happens, but then I feel the spear start to vibrate in my hand. I clench my fist tighter and hold the shaft with both hands, holding it steady.

  My jaw tightens and I scream in agony as a dark string of smoke begins to run from Sunday’s throat. It floats up into the air and wraps around the crystal and then the crystal lights up. Radiant pink light fills the room and the smoke begi
ns to vanish into the crystal.

  I watch it, stunned into silence. I glance at Jinx, who looks back at me, his face as blank as my mind. Neither of us know what the hell we’re messing with here, and so much is riding on this uncertainty. I have no idea when to stop drawing the energy from Sunday. How am I supposed to know when the Horseman stops and Sunday begins? Or maybe it doesn’t work like that. Maybe their souls are so intertwined I’ve already screwed up and I’m already sucking both of them out.

  Suddenly, a warm feeling of calm washes over me, starting at my tattoo and washing over my whole body. It holds me in its serene grip and the panic leaves me. I am the Paradox and my instincts will guide me if only I let them.

  I watch the dark smoke closely, waiting for the sign that I now fully believe will come. The smoke keeps on coming. Sunday’s throat is no longer bleeding and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but I choose to trust the warm feeling, the calmness, and I tell myself it’s a good thing. That this is all going to be okay.

  The smoke begins to lighten. It’s turning to grey where it spills from Sunday now. And as I keep watching, it turns white, and I know that where the smoke turns white, that is where the Horseman ends and Sunday begins. I just have to get the timing right.

  I move my gaze to the tip of the crystal. Black smoke is still being sucked in and grey smoke is wrapped around the tip now. I watch the smoke carefully. It does two full rotations of the crystal’s tip in two looping circles and then it goes inside of it. I keep watching until the grey lightens and the smoke dancing around the crystal is white.

  I stare at the tip of the crystal and the second the last of the grey is sucked up, I jerk the crystal away from Sunday’s neck. The spear fights me, but I yank it hard and it finally slips away from him. The pink light extinguishes and I hear the spear clatter to the ground as it falls from my hands.

  The white smoke floats on the air for a moment, seemingly lost, and then it begins to pour back into Sunday through the slit in his throat. I fall to my knees and take Sunday’s hand in mine. Jinx and I look at each other over Sunday’s body. His eyes look wild, panic-stricken, and I know mine hold the exact same trapped expression.

  The last wisp of white smoke drops back into Sunday’s throat. Instantly, the wound begins to bleed again, and I know I screwed up. I might have saved Sunday’s soul, but I can’t save his life. Rye and Mel, our healers, are both drugged up and unconscious. And Nexus could never get here quickly enough to fix this.

  “You did your best, Sailor,” Jinx says quietly, as though he read my mind.

  He doesn’t need to be able to read my mind to know what’s going through it. It’s written all over my face. I killed Sunday.

  “My best wasn’t good enough,” I say back in a voice so broken I don’t recognize it as my own.

  Jinx doesn’t reply. What can he say at this point that would make me feel better? Precisely what he has said. Nothing.

  The trail of blood from Sunday slows down and stops. He bled out right here on the ground in front of me, and there was nothing I could do to save him. In the end, Paradox or not, I was powerless to help Sunday.

  “I’m so sorry, Sunday,” I whisper.

  I reach out to stroke his face. His cheek is still warm. I expected it to be cold somehow. The warmth tricks me into believing he’s still alive, but I know it’s a lie, just something I’m telling myself to make myself feel better.

  I close my eyes as tears begin to run down my cheeks.

  “Sailor? Look,” Jinx exclaims.

  I don’t want to look. I don’t want to see. But Jinx sounds happy rather than sad, excited rather than agitated. I force myself to open my eyes. I can’t bring myself to look at Sunday, so I look at Jinx instead. His eyes slip away from Sunday and fix themselves on me.

  “Sails, you have to see this,” he says, nodding towards Sunday.

  I shake my head and Jinx reaches up and touches my cheek. He gently pushes my face towards Sunday and I don’t resist him. I killed his best friend. If he wants me to look at him, I at least owe him that much.

  I feel my heart slam in my chest when I finally dare to look at Sunday. The wound in his throat is slowly but surely knitting itself together before my eyes.

  “He’s going to be okay, Sails. You saved him,” Jinx says.

  He’s half laughing and half crying, and when he reaches over Sunday and grabs my face in his hands and kisses my forehead, I don’t stop him. It’s not Jinx being Jinx. It’s a thank you that he can’t put into words.

  The wound is slow to heal, but it’s not like we’re in any hurry now. The Horseman is gone and we have as long as it takes for Sunday to recover. Finally, the last piece of skin knits together. There is no mark left on his skin; it’s not even red. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed his throat had been slit just moments ago.

  For a moment, nothing happens. Sunday is laid out flat, his eyes still closed, but then I see it. A tiny flicker of movement in Sunday’s chest that slowly grows into deep, even breaths.

  “Sailor?” Jinx says. “Are we sure the Horseman is gone?”

  I nod firmly.

  “Certain. I felt him leave,” I say, showing him my tattoo, where only two crows remain on the dead branch.

  Jinx doesn’t press me for proof or for more information, he just nods his head, accepting my answer. I reach out and brush my fingers lightly over Sunday’s face.

  “Sunday? Can you hear me?” I say quietly.

  His eyes open and he blinks a few times. Relief floods me. I did it. I saved him.

  “Thank you, Sailor. I knew you could do it,” Sunday says with a warm smile.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: FAMILY TIES

  Jinx, Sunday, and I sit on the couch in the game room waiting for the drugs to wear off the others. We sat up all night, talking and celebrating. I can hear movement upstairs now and I know the others are starting to stir. We have a lot to tell them.

  Jinx gets up.

  “I’ll go get the coffee on,” he says. “I figure we’re all going to need it.”

  By the time the coffee is ready, Aziza and Ya-Ya are downstairs. Mel follows not far behind them, and finally, Rye appears. He bursts into the room in a panic and stops short when he sees us all sitting there, looking at him.

  “What the hell? I woke up and you were gone, Sailor.”

  I stand up and go to him. I kiss his lips and stand back and smile.

  “We have a lot to tell you all, but the most important thing is that it’s over, Rye. War is dead.”

  He opens his mouth, no doubt to fire a series of questions at me, and I put my finger to his lips.

  “All in good time,” I say. “Come sit down and we’ll explain everything.”

  Rye looks ready to argue, but then he sighs and nods. I take my place back on the couch. Rye perches on the arm beside me. He gratefully accepts the cup of coffee Jinx holds out to him. He blows on the surface and takes a sip.

  “Right. Someone better start talking,” he says.

  “Should we wait for Nexus?” Sunday asks.

  “No,” I say. “She can get the short version later. So as I said, War is gone. He’s in the crystal on the spear.”

  “Who was he? How did he get in here? And why didn’t we wake up when you were fighting him?” Mel demands.

  “That’s a lot of questions.” I laugh. “So Sunday was War. I think it’s self-explanatory how he got in. And none of you woke up because he drugged you all.”

  My blunt answer causes a major stir. The whole team is talking at once. Rye lets it go for a moment and then he holds up his hand.

  “Enough. Let her explain,” he says.

  He nods to me when the questions stop and I wonder where to begin. I decide to just tell them everything.

  “So, Nexus came to me and told me a member of the team was War. She didn’t know who. Obviously I couldn’t tell you guys, because then War would know w
e were onto him. I knew he would reveal himself sooner rather than later and try to kill me. That happened last night, but I was able to defeat him.”

  “So how is Sunday still alive?” Ya-Ya asks.

  “The spear was a different weapon to a normal spear. The crystal tip had the power to suck the soul of the Horseman out of Sunday. I was able to stop before Sunday’s soul left his body,” I explain.

  “So we were wrong?” Rye says.

  I nod.

  “So wrong,” I say, giving Jinx a quick smile, which he returns.

  “How did you know it was Sunday?” Mel asks.

  I debate how much to tell the team, and I decide on total honesty. They’ve all proved their loyalty to me, to the cause, time and time again, and I owe them the same in return.

  “I didn’t. At first, I thought it was Aziza,” I say. I smile sheepishly at Aziza, who laughs softly. “She seemed so determined to come into the cavern with me. I was a fool. I thought she wanted to get me alone so she could take me down once I had the weapon. But she didn’t. She just wanted to keep me safe.

  “After that, I thought it was Jinx. He had been the first one to go and look for the weapon and then there was other stuff.”

  “Like what?” Ya-Ya asks.

  “Like how he caused utter chaos at the town council meeting. How did you do that by the way?” I say, turning to Jinx.

  “Exactly how I told you I did at the time. Obviously War’s influence took over and it blew up, but I really did start it the way I said.”

  I nod my head. It makes sense that a suggestion could get that out of hand with War in the room.

  “And then there was the trouble at school. As soon as Jinx got pulled out of the fight, it stopped. Of course Sunday left with him, but by then, I couldn’t see the truth for the lie I had fed myself. Finally, last night, I dreamed of the whole world at war, burning, people killing each other. I woke up from the dream and Jinx was in the room. He told me he heard me screaming and came to check I was okay, which I see now was obviously true, but at the time, I put two and two together and reached about three hundred.”