by Amy Sumida
“A few.” David nodded. “They all came out unharmed, and we watched them trace away.”
“Did you recognize the Gods?” I asked.
David grimaced. “We don't know that many Gods, Tima. Only those who Niyarvirezi, and then you, introduced us to.”
“But we took pictures,” Christopher added as he swung forward a digital camera that was hanging on his shoulder. He started flipping through shots. “I compiled them in a separate folder to show you. Here they are.”
Chris passed the camera down to me, but I kept passing it along to Odin.
“You know more Gods than I do,” I said as I handed it to my husband.
Odin flipped through the pictures. He started shaking his head as he did. “I don't know any of these Gods; they must be minor deities.”
Odin handed the camera to Hades and it continued around the table until, finally, Brahma spotted someone.
“I think she's an apsara.” Brahma tapped the screen.
Sarasvati leaned over her husband's arm to look and then nodded. “I recognize her as well. I don't know her name, though.”
“Can you send a copy of this to my phone?” Brahma asked Christopher as he showed Chris which picture it was.
“Sure. No problem.”
“Thanks.” Brahma handed the camera on to Pan. “I'll verify that she's alive.”
The Apsara was the only one we could ID but since my lions had seen the gods leave—including her—I wasn't too worried about them. I was more concerned with the humans.
“Thank you,” I said to my lions. “Can you gather a team to follow the humans again? I want to be sure that all they're doing is passing out fliers.”
“Of course,” Christopher said as he stood. “We're on it.”
The lions left, and I directed my attention to Apollo.
“Have you found anything?” I asked him. “Any leads on the Muses' lovers or yours?”
“I went through their rooms and found several possibilities,” Apollo reported. “A few of them turned out to be old lovers, but we did locate current ones as well. They had no idea where the girls went; most are as concerned as I am.”
“We've still got a few more to talk to,” Artemis added. “We'll let you know if we find anything.”
“Okay.” I frowned; something was bothering me. “I think we should check out a few of these other Sampos. Maybe we can get a better idea of what's going on if we can search one that doesn't have any gods in residence, as it were.”
“What about the music?” Persephone asked. “It influenced you and two of your husbands. Should we wear earplugs?”
“How will we investigate properly if we can't hear?” Hades countered.
“We just need to be careful and stay in teams,” Brahma said flippantly. “Most of the music was geared toward gentle persuasion, it was only those in the private rooms that got more devious and more powerful. So, we could put in earplugs when we go into those rooms.”
“That would work.” I nodded.
“I agree,” Thor said. “Let's break up into teams and choose locations. Torrent, can you check which club Vainamoinen is supposed to be singing in tonight?”
“He's been focusing on Portland lately,” Torrent said as he looked. Then he nodded. “Yep; Portland. But that doesn't mean there won't be other gods from his pantheon at the other locations. There's no way to confirm where they'll be.”
“We can choose areas and several clubs in our area,” Hades suggested. “Then, if we happen to go into one with a god on the premises, we can simply trace to another to investigate.”
Everyone agreed that this sounded best. We chose our teams, our areas, and then the clubs. Torrent sent images of each club to our phones so we could use the pictures to trace. Then I used my territory magic to change a few pebbles into earplugs and passed them out.
The children were already with Fallon and Sam; swimming again. I think Arach was getting annoyed with how often our boys wanted to get in the water. But I pointed out that we didn't have a pool—at least not of the water variety—at Castle Aithinne. All we had were the hot springs and the Tine at the far end of our kingdom. So, it made sense that the boys would want to make use of the pool while they could; most children loved pools and it looked as if Fire Fey children were no exception.
Anyway, my offspring was secure so I was able to leave immediately with my team. I had Arach (he refused to be separated from me since his whole reason for coming to the Human Realm was to protect me), Trevor (because he was still in alpha daddy mode), and Odin to help me mediate between the other two if necessary. Pan wanted to join our group, but we all knew what his motivation was; the possibility that we would wind up in another sex room. So, all of my men, including those on other teams, protested strongly.
Pan pouted but went with Horus and Hekate to investigate clubs in France. My group got Norway; mainly because two out of the four of us knew the area and the people. Since it was Spring, I wasn't too worried about Norway's weather; my leather jacket should be enough to keep me warm. Plus, I could always turn up my internal temperature if I needed to; one of the perks of being a dragon-sidhe. My son even had a house in Norway. Well, it had been Ull's property, but Brevyn inherited it. Not that weather or landscape mattered; we'd be going straight into a building when we arrived.
Or so I thought.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The God Realm is laid directly over the Human Realm like magical frosting on a spherical cake. This means that things like time of day and climate correspond directly from the God Realm to whatever region on Earth a particular territory lies over. Climate can be adjusted, but no one messes with the Sun. So, whatever time of day or night it is in the Human Realm, it will be the same in the God Realm.
My territory is laid over a portion of Africa. I know the continent is big and that's a vague description of a location, but I'd never investigated what region exactly my territory corresponds to. I only know that it's over Africa because the Intare told me. It made sense since that was where their original goddess, Niyarvirezi, came from. This information isn't usually an issue but it becomes important on occasion; like on the rare occasion when I need to investigate a nightclub. Night being the keyword.
Africa and Norway happen to be in nearly the same time zone; Norway lying directly above Africa. It had been mid-morning when we left Pride Palace, which meant it was mid-morning when we arrived in Norway. If we wanted to check out Sampo when the place was active, that made for a long wait. But instead of going home, we decided to make the most of it and take a look around. A mini-vacay of sorts.
We were in a town called Bergen; a fishing town with access to the fjords. Arach wasn't too excited about all the water and fish, but Odin and Trevor were both eager to take a look around an area they had long ago visited. Odin had been there more times than Trevor, who had moved around a lot with his family, but they both remembered quite a bit about the way the place used to look.
We strolled down the wharf in front of wooden homes; tall and peaked like those plastic figures of houses you get in Monopoly. They stood pressed up against each other, just as those plastic pieces might sit on a gameboard—in stout, military rows—but were painted brightly in orange, yellow and blue. The scent of the sea rode the air like the old Vikings used to ride the waves; aggressively and without mercy. We wandered into the fish market where the briny scent was added to and accented by, unsurprisingly, the repellent odor of fish. We braved the market anyway and browsed fresh fruit, flowers, and local crafts. We bought some snacks—fried fish that was fabulous and worth the assault on our nostrils—and wandered on.
“The ships have changed but the water is the same vibrant blue,” Odin noted as we headed inland.
“It smells better,” Trevor said dryly.
“This is an improvement?” Arach asked in distaste.
“Oh, yes.” Odin chuckled. “You never experienced the rancid odor of humanity back in its early stages. The Norse weren't as stinky as so
me, the proximity to the ocean actually helped.”
Arach looked unconvinced.
“The ocean breeze washed away a lot of the stench,” Trevor explained. “Salt and fish are preferable to unwashed bodies and refuse.”
“And shit,” Odin muttered. “All of those old European cities smelled of feces. People would literally relieve themselves in a bucket and then toss the contents into the street.”
“Right.” I made a disgusted face. “I remember seeing an old pair of wooden clogs in a museum. Women used to wear them over their shoes when they left the house. They were high platforms—basically shoes stilts—to keep ladies from stepping in filth.”
“Exactly.” Odin nodded. “In the countryside, they at least had outdoor privies. Even though that was just a hole in the ground, it helped to manage the waste. Still, they tended to throw all their other refuse in piles or in running water, just like city dwellers.”
“I find myself grateful to the High King for closing the path between the Human Realm and Faerie,” Arach declared.
“The smell of fish doesn't seem so bad now,” I agreed. Then I spotted some banners hanging outside a building. “O-o-o-oh art,” I cooed.
“It's a museum,” Odin explained.
“Let's check it out.” I headed toward the door then read the sign above it, “KODE 4.”
“Because there are four of them.” Trevor waved his hand down the road to where more KODEs waited to be explored.
“Excellent!” I exclaimed and hurried into the sprawling white building.
I was in heaven; gazing in wonder at paintings from Munch, Astrup, Picasso, and Dahl. I ambled slowly past the art, sometimes stopping for longer looks, while the men politely trailed after me; hands in pockets or laced behind their back as they alternately frowned and gazed indifferently at the paintings. It was a shame Azrael hadn't been with us, he would have enjoyed it as much as I did.
As I was admiring a Picasso, a young woman stepped up to us and started speaking in Norwegian. I assume it was Norwegian, but I wouldn't know Norwegian from Nigerian. Well, maybe from Nigerian, but you know what I mean. Odin and Trevor both spoke the language, though, and they were very interested in what she had to say. Odin nodded and gestured expansively as he accepted a piece of paper from the woman. Then she smiled serenely and wandered off.
“You're not going to believe this,” Trevor exclaimed to Arach and me.
“Did she just invite us to Sampo?” I asked.
“Not only that,” Trevor said with a smirk, “she also offered to give us a ride to the club. She's meeting us back here in two hours. Evidently, it's a bit of a trek to get there.”
“We'll walk in with the locals.” I nodded. “Nice cover.”
“Does that paper have anything interesting on it?” Arach waved at the flier Odin held.
“It promises that the music they play will change your life.” Odin grimaced as he glanced at us.
“I'm sure it will,” I muttered.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
We finished up at the museum and then went to have an early dinner. No one else approached us but something odd did happen. We had just finished paying the bill and were getting to our feet when a commotion came from the back of the restaurant. The four of us stopped to stare in surprise as a couple of men came tumbling through the swinging door that led to the kitchen. One of them had a knife and was trying to cut the other man with it. He looked strangely calm while his intended victim shouted for help and straight-armed the man's knife-hand away from him. Several male employees ran to assist their colleague and pull the attacker off him, but the man turned on those who were restraining him. He didn't stop slicing at the air menacingly until one of the other employees came up behind him with a fire extinguisher and used it to bop the guy in the back of the head and knock him out cold.
My husbands and I exchanged shocked looks and then hurried toward the door. We didn't want to be there when the Police arrived. There would doubtless be questions and statements and all that stuff that would take precious time and possibly lead to more questions on why we were in Norway, to begin with. On the way toward the door, we passed by the passed out knife-wielder, and I noticed that he had earbuds in. I noticed because one of the buds was hanging down his chest, and my dragon hearing picked up the music that continued to play despite its lack of audience. It sounded familiar but it didn't register with me until we were well on our way back to the museum.
“Holy cannolis!” I declared as I jerked to a stop.
“What is it, A Thaisce?” Arach asked as the other men stopped and stared expectantly at me.
“That man back there; the one with the knife. He was listening to Vainamoinen's music.”
“Are you certain?” Odin asked; his peacock-colored stare intense.
“Absolutely.” I nodded. “I don't know the song and it wasn't in English so I couldn't tell you what it was about, but I definitely recognized Vainamoinen's voice.”
“Could be a coincidence,” Trevor said slowly.
“Or it could be proof that the Finnish Gods have decided that they want human sacrifice after all,” I argued.
“I don't know.” Odin grimaced. “Why would they resort to such tricks when they're doing so well without killing humans? If their followers start attacking people, it would put their clubs in jeopardy. The human Police would investigate.”
“How would Law Enforcement prove that the murderers are people who listen to Vai?” Arach asked. “Even if they were able to do that, a similar taste in music is not enough evidence to convict the musician for the actions of the listener. Perhaps in our world, where we know the music is enchanted, but not here, in their world.”
“If it's true, and they are using the music to get humans to kill each other, it's deviously brilliant,” Trevor murmured.
“Let's just keep the possibility in mind and be extra vigilant tonight,” I suggested. “At this point, it's simply another piece of information.”
With the attack haunting me, we strode back to the museum and found our ride waiting by the curb. The woman who had approached us earlier had a van with several people already sitting inside. She greeted us warmly and motioned us aboard. It was a large passenger van; the sort church groups use to ferry people about. We nodded politely to the other people as we took the last two rows of benches and then waited a few minutes for the rest of our group to arrive.
“They sent her out to gather new followers; like a priest at a soup kitchen,” I murmured to Trevor, who had slid onto the bench beside me.
“It seems so.” Trevor surreptitiously looked around the van, his stare settling on a burly man sitting in the front passenger's seat.
“It's smart to hit the museum for tourists who are looking for some entertainment,” Odin whispered behind us.
The man up front smiled broadly when he caught Trevor staring, but the smile seemed fake to me. Then the woman shut the side door with a resounding crash and got into the driver's seat. She called back something to us in that other language and then started the van.
We drove inland awhile until we were pressed up against the side of a steep cliff. Trees crowded in around the road, disguising the fact that we were near the ocean. There weren't any street lamps; only the twin streams from the headlights to illuminate our way. I stared into the shadows outside my window warily but didn't see anything disturbing in the woods, not even with my superior, dragon vision.
Then we pulled into a packed parking lot. The woman let us off near the door, and her friend got out to lead us inside while she drove off to park the van. The man eyed Trevor and Odin with a surreptitious sideways glance. He looked like the sort who was always the biggest, baddest guy in the room, and he was probably a little irritated to find that wouldn't be the case tonight. But he pasted on a bright smile and said something in a cheery tone as he waved us past the bouncers, through the double entry doors.
We moved inside with our little herd; Odin and Trevor slumping a little so they w
ouldn't stand out so much. Norwegians aren't short people, not by any means, and they had imagined their gods to be larger versions of themselves. Trevor and Odin are prime examples of Norse Gods, though Trevor had some of that Froekn sleekness to ease his bulk. He was technically a demigod and had been tempered by his mother's magic. Arach, although tall and buff for a sidhe, didn't stand out among those humans at all. At least, not because of his body mass. Arach's charisma oozed off him and drew several interested stares... and that was just on our way into the club. When you're a dragon-sidhe, the size of your humanoid body doesn't matter; your presence remains enormous no matter what shape you take. The Dragon is always with you.
I smiled as I looked away from my men and concentrated on the club. This Sampo felt more like a standard nightclub. The ambiance was dark but shiny; a bar backed by shelves of alcohol stretching down one side of the main room and music with a pulsing, hypnotic beat owning the air. Humans filled the central dance floor already; bodies pumping and thrashing in abandon. People pushed in behind us, jostling us forward. I got separated from the men in seconds, and even though two of them were tall enough to be seen over the crowd, I'm quite the opposite. I couldn't see above the Norwegians around me, nor could I be heard over the loud music. A strobe light started to flash over the crowd, disorienting me more.
