by Kelly Keaton
“I wish I could make sense of the crap in my head,” she started, then picked at her fingernails. “It's . . . still fuzzy, the things he put there.”
“Do you see anything that’s clear?”
“Sure. Things about his life I'm not sure he meant for me to see.” She made an exaggerated shudder. “Totally don’t need to see that shit. For real.”
We shared at laugh. “No doubt.”
“But the tracing part,” she went on, “when he was attacked, it's blurry, you know? And so fast. I see shapes, smears of color. I see a figure hitting him hard. Man, like comes at him freight train style.”
“And Archer?”
“He's tucked under Apollo's arm when they hit. They spin around, grapple... Something is pressed against Apollo's forehead and I swear whatever it is, it’s like a shock to his system or something.” She thought for a moment. “You know how doctors use those paddles to shock someone's heart?” I nodded. “The shock is like that, but a gazillion times greater. Then it's over. I see the hand, though, the one that presses against Apollo's forehead. A voice, too. A whisper really. It’s male. Very deep and very creepy. Every time the vision comes, some tiny part gets clearer, so maybe soon I can put it together. That's all I got.”
“It's plenty,” Sebastian said as he came in and joined me on the mattress.
“Hey kiddo,” he said easily to Jenna.
She smiled. “Hey. Hear you’re going to invade Henri’s love nest in the desert.”
A dazzling grin spread across his face, and he laughed. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” He scratched his jaw, shaking his head at her unique way of seeing things. “My father is back from the library. I’ll be heading out soon.”
Instantly, the mood changed. Jenna’s eyes went watery. She jumped up and flung herself into his arms. He hugged her tight. When she released him, a red blush crept up her neck, embarrassed by what she considered childish behavior.
“Just . . . you know, be careful.”
He stood. “I will. And please, for the love of god, make sure my dad’s chef doesn’t murder Dub while we’re gone.”
That lightened her mood considerably. She laughed. “You’ve got it way easier than me then. He’s already making a nuisance of himself. Put in three requests already. I could hear chef yelling all the way up here.”
“I should get going, too,” I said. “Need to chat with my dad, then see what Rowen found out about Apollo.” I hugged Jenna, returning her tight squeeze.
“Oh, one more thing,” she remembered as we broke apart. “Apollo's weakness is darkness. He's a god of light, see, so whoever did this is dark I think. Well, I mean whatever power they used on him maybe came from darkness. Not from magic, but from older stuff, from...” she searched for the right word.
“Primal stuff,” my father said from the doorway.
“Yes. That's it. Primal stuff.”
“Another god?” I asked my father.
“Would be my guess. Sebastian, they’re waiting for you on the back balcony.”
After another quick goodbye, we left Jenna and went with Sebastian to meet Michel and Rowen.
They were in deep conversation when we stepped onto the balcony. In Michel’s hand was a foot-tall golden statue of the falcon-headed god Horus.
“Taken from one of his earliest, most beloved human temples,” Michel said as we approached.
“This should allow us to send you there or at least close by,” Rowen told Sebastian.
“Did you find any residual magic on Apollo?” I asked her.
A frown marred her features and she let out a heavy sigh. “It was . . . difficult. There’s a,” she searched for the right term, “darkness. It’s in him and it’s very strong, strong enough to war with his light.”
Pretty much the same thing Jenna had said. “This darkness, it’s not derived from any spell is it?”
“No, I don’t believe so.” Her shoulders sank a little. “I fear our suspicion that some kind of marker or spell was used to track Apollo mid-trace might be incorrect. I fear we are looking at a god of Apollo’s magnitude, one possibly of a chthonic nature, one of extreme primal power.”
I had a very vague understanding of the power or energy that spawned the gods and brought chaos and order into the world, the source of their power. “Chthonic is subterranean,” I said, remembering my class with her. “You’re talking about a god of the Underworld.”
She seemed pleased I remembered. “My educated guess is yes, but it doesn't necessarily take a god himself to do what was done to Apollo. A relic, a harnessing of dark primal power... There are many beings that might claim such a thing and make it work for their purposes. I wish I could give you more to go on.”
Michel glanced from me to Sebastian. There was so much worry in his intelligent eyes. He knew exactly the risks his son was taking. They’d been reunited after ten years of Michel’s imprisonment. Athena was no longer a threat and the last thing he wanted--no doubt his greatest fear--was to be separated from his son again.
But, instead of begging Sebastian to stay, which would have only put a divide between them, he drew in a deep breath and said, “We’ve made preparations on the roof. Ready, son?”
“Yep.”
“We’ll meet you up there,” Rowen said and tugged on Michel’s sleeve. They left the balcony, my father joining them, to give us a moment alone.
My heart felt tight in my chest, every beat heavy and echoing.
“I hate leaving you,” Sebastian admitted.
“It was your idea,” I reminded him with a half smile.
His expression softened, but just for a moment before the seriousness settled back in, a hard, determined light coming into his eyes. Nothing would stop us from getting Archer back, despite the risks. And we both knew firsthand how bad things could get when they went wrong. We knew what it was like to go through hell and back, to fail, to bleed, to lose the other.
With a groan, he planted a hard kiss on me, taking what he needed, breathing me in as if needing to pull my essence inside of him, making a brand, creating a memory. My eyes stung, but I kept them tightly shut and gave myself over to sensation. We’d be fine. Sebastian would bring back the gods and everything would be fine. When he released me, I was a chaotic mess.
Without looking at me, he brushed around me and walked to the door.
I drew in ragged breath, letting him go and trying to remain calm and focused.
“I’ll see you soon,” he called suddenly, making me turn to see him stepping through the doorway. He grinned over his shoulder. “Stay out of trouble, Selkirk.”
I laughed despite the fact that my stomach had twisted into a knot so tight I felt sick. Then, he was gone. “Don't you dare get hurt,” I whispered.
I gripped the old medallion. It was warm from the contact with my skin. It put it to my lips and prayed, trying to brush the deep sense of foreboding aside.
Eventually, my father came through the door; he’d been waiting in the hallway, giving us time to say goodbye and to give me time to regroup.
As he approached, his gaze went to my ring hand, the one that was holding the medallion. He paled instantly. Raw emotion passed over his features. The ring drew him in until he was holding my hand gaping at it in shock. “Where did you get this?”
“It was in a box of things she left for me. I thought it was lost in the fire... Sebastian found it. Found this too.” I showed him the medallion. “Was it yours?”
He blinked in astonishment. “It was. On the back is a profile of Perseus, my forefather. On the front, a sun with the head of Medusa in the center. I gave this to her the day she told me she was pregnant. I thought it would protect her and you...”
But it hadn't.
I didn't need to look into his eyes to see the thought left unsaid. Sadness swept through me. My mother had gone mad, terrorized by the monster growing within her as she approached her twenty-first birthday. And yet, she'd managed to flee New Orleans and keep me safe.
> In the end, she couldn't fight anymore, not against something as old and powerful as a god’s curse. She'd clawed her head bloody, took a knife to her scalp to try and stop the horror she felt slithering beneath. She was committed and I was taken by the state.
She’d died alone.
“And the ring?” I asked, my throat thick.
“She never took it off. Had it when I met her. I'm not aware of its origin.”
“I wish I knew her,” I said. I was completely off-kilter, going from one emotional moment to another. Not something I was used to. My father's hands squeezed my shoulders. “All you have to do is look in the mirror. She's right there. “
But to hear her voice, feel her touch... Those were things lost in my memory.
“Would you like them back?” I asked, shoving the thoughts aside.
He seemed touched by my offer. “I’m glad you have them. They’re yours.”
I slipped the medallion back under my shirt and drew in a very deep, cleansing breath, deciding to be done with the emotional overdoses for a while. “Guess I should get going too.”
My father went from dad to military tactician in a flash. “Talk to Hestia, see if there have been any recent visitors, feel her out, but don’t let her or anyone else know that Apollo is here and hurt. As far as they know, he would’ve been back in Olympus a few minutes after dropping off Archer. Let's hope no one has figured out he hasn’t returned.”
“I’ll tell Hestia I came for some of Archer’s things that Apollo forgot. I’ll tell her he dropped Archer off and went back to his temple to get some sleep after six months of babysitting. She should buy that.”
“Good. That won’t be out of character for him. Apollo usually tears into anyone who interrupts his sleep, so she won’t dare check. No one must know he’s absent.”
“I won’t say a word.”
“And find Melinoe. She's friends with Menai. They could have talked about keeping in touch while Menai is in Egypt.”
“If she’s not there?”
“Look to the High Wood. She keeps her own small temple there. Do you remember the lake and Athena's ruined temple?”
“Yes.”
“Go west, up through the hills. And with Mel never let your guard down. She’s a daughter of Hades, both parts life and death. And depending on her mood she could represent either.”
While Mel's creep factor was way up there, she'd yet to be harmful or dangerous to me in any way, so I could only hope she saw me as friend and not foe. “Well, here's hoping we catch her on a good day.”
He shook his head. “You're mother had a way of making light of dire things, too.”
“You mean she was a smart ass?” I asked with a smile.
He lifted an eyebrow at my attempt at levity. “One other thing,” he added. “By now every god with a beef against Athena and a longing for control over Olympus will know about her death. Apollo and Artemis together are strong. They are holding Olympus. And with Horus there for half the year with Artemis, they're practically invincible. But their hold is new and tenuous at best. With them both gone . . . just be careful. “
“Really. Try not to make it sound like a walk in the park or anything.”
He rolled his eyes and hugged me. “Just keeping it real, daughter.”
I laughed, impressed. “New 2 is rubbing off on you.”
“It has its moments.”
I kissed his cheek, which I could tell made him feel all warm and fatherly inside. “See you in a day or two.”
“You have two days. Then I’m coming after you.”
“But--”
“I would tear down the Gates of Olympus to see you safe,” he said fiercely. “Two days. Stop by the kitchen. There's a bag packed for you on the center island.”
“Thanks.” I hadn’t even thought of food. I wasn't going to be in Olympus long, but it was a precaution I should have considered myself.
I hurried to the kitchen.
Inside, Dub sat on one of the granite countertops, swinging his feet and eating icing from a stainless steel pot, clearly poached from some future dessert the chef intended to make. “Chef is going to kill you.”
“Hey, listen, chère. Me and chef are tight. Both love this room, both love food, both curse in French...” he hooked a finger in the bowl and pulled out a wad of white, creamy icing. “It’s like we’re connected. Soul brothers.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbed the bag of food left on the center island, and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “I’m leaving. I’ll be back in a day or two.”
“Just so you know, Violet asked me to watch Pascal. She plans on going with.”
A heavy breath left me. I pinched the bridge of my nose for a second. “All right. I’ll talk to her. You look after things, and keep Pascal away from the kitch--” Pascal came waddling from under the table, went passed me, and into the open pantry. I gave Dub a pointed look.
“What? Chef’s at the market.” At my glare, he held a hand over his heart. “Okay, okay, I will keep Pascal out of the kitchen.”
As I turned to leave, I almost ran into Violet. She lingered in the kitchen entryway, her mask pushed to the top of her head, her round eyes solemn and dark.
“You’re leaving.”
“I am.” I moved past her, drawing her into the hallway. “Look, I know you want to go, but I'll only be in Olympus a short time. I need you here to look after Jenna, okay? And Dub.”
She frowned, her forehead wrinkling as she stared at her hands folded in her lap. Her feet didn’t even touch the floor. “They have Michel and Theron and Rowen, and the staff.” She looked up at me. “You have no one. I promised to protect you, remember? Remember when I promised?”
Oh boy. “I remember. Come on, why don’t you walk with me to the garden.”
Outside, I couldn’t help but look to the roof. Sebastian would be gone by now, already in Egypt...
I bent down. “I have to go, Vi. The sooner we get Archer back, the better.”
She frowned, biting on her bottom lip, revealing one small white fang. “I am not happy.”
“And I’m sorry. But I still have to do this.”
“I know. Archer needs you. He’s little...” She reached up and slid her mask over her face in an attempt to hide her emotions.
“See you soon, kid.” I hugged her, feeling terrible that her feelings were hurt, but not wanting her anywhere near Olympus right now, no matter how incredible her power.
She walked back into the house with her head held high and her feathers bouncing. I secured the food bag in my backpack and then slung it over my shoulder.
Alone, I removed a small golden disk from my pocket. Apollo had given one to me and one to Sebastian so we could visit Archer in Olympus as we wished. It was heavy and incredibly bright. It grew warm in my palm, an energetic kind of warmth that spoke of power and magic, just a minute fraction of the energy that had been around Apollo earlier.
I closed my hand tightly over the disk and chanted the words exactly as Apollo had made me memorize. It was ancient Greek and the only words I knew in the language. Not that I knew the meaning. Apollo had refused to tell me or Sebastian what they meant, but according to my father, it held within it a secret name or two of the god, which were in and of themselves sources of power.
Light was already growing, piercing through the spaces between my fingers and growing in front of me. I sucked in a breath and stepped forward into the light as the familiar feeling of weightlessness claimed me.
EIGHT
SEBASTIAN MATERIALIZED ON a broken column. Immediately, his feet slipped out from under him and a curse tore from his lips as he struggled to keep the idol in his grasp and not meet up with the pile of jagged stones twenty feet below.
The column had long ago fallen from its massive base, making a sort of bridge over the rocks and ruins below.
Heart in his throat, he managed to pull himself back onto the column. He rolled onto his back and lay gasping, the idol tucked under his arm. Could
have been worse. At least he hadn't materialized inside the column. Look on the bright side, right?
As his heart rate began to lower, he sat up and surveyed the area. The land surrounding the ruins was flat, similar to a shallow lake made up of sand and loose rock. Beyond the ruins the terrain rose and fell, sand pooling around huge rocky outcroppings. Behind him lay the remains of what was once a great temple, now mostly covered in sand. Shame, really. The blocks around him were colossal. In its prime, the temple would have been an awe-inspiring sight.
A hot haze hovered in the air and blocked out the sun. Rowen had said there were several contenders for where the golden statue of Horus in his grasp had originated. According to some, the temple at Nekhen was the oldest known Egyptian temple and it happened to be dedicated to the falcon-god. But this... This temple was, if he had to guess, far, far older. Isolated. And as of yet undiscovered by the human world.
He pushed to his feet to survey his position.
Standing on the column, he felt pretty damn small and insignificant amid ruins that were once home to gods. There was nothing but sand and rock as far the eye could see. No town. No road. No telephone poles or palm trees. Nothing.
Which was probably good.
No witnesses when he summoned a sure to be pissed off god...
Destroying the temple to get Horus’s attention was obviously off the list. There wasn’t a single column or obelisk left standing.
He lifted the heavy idol in his hand. The thing was solid gold with painted eyes and a regal aura, a look that said, “Yeah, I’m a god. Worship me, puny human.” It was an expression Sebastian had seen firsthand and too many times to count.
The thing had a pretty significant vibe. When his father had handed him the statue on the roof back in New 2, Sebastian had felt the weight of the magic as much as the weight of the gold. A human would only feel the weight and the contact of gold against skin, the way the metal would warm to one’s heat. But to someone like him, there was the warmth and then some. There was old, ancient power, the kind that made your ears hum and your skin prick. It was just as much a part of the statue as the gold that made up its form.
