The Banished Gods Box Set: Books 1-3

by L. A. McGinnis

  Loki’s attention snapped to his son.

  “Fen.” Loki’s voice was calm, commanding. “You need to breathe. Right now.” Loki observed while his son’s face begin to lengthen, darken, those fangs begin to descend, and his eyes turn pitch-black. “Fen, come on, breathe, son. Take a breath. That’s it. Now. Another.”

  It took several long moments, but finally, Fen threw himself into the chair opposite Loki, paler than he’d ever seen him. But human-looking, at least.

  “She won’t see reason, Father. She will not face the fact that I am a monster.”

  “But are you, Fen? Are you really?” Loki prodded. “Have you ever considered you might be the only one holding onto this idea that you’re some flawed creature? You trust her in all other things.” Loki urged, “Why can’t you trust her in this too? When I met Morgane,” Loki said reflectively, “the hardest part wasn’t what I felt for her. It was what I thought of myself. My love for Morgane was pure, it was simple. It was when I added myself to the mix that things got tangled up and complicated. Don’t overcomplicate this, Fen.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know, maybe.” Fen raised his head, his face somber. “When she was taken...”

  His next words were careful enough that Loki knew they cost him.

  “…all I thought of was I might be too late. And I wished for more time. Just enough time to get to her, to save her. Nothing more.”

  “But you did get to her in time. Focus on that and nothing else.” Loki said firmly as Fen swallowed, his neck bobbing. “Fen. Focus on what happened. Not what could have happened.”

  “I know. I do, it’s just that…” Fen cradled his head in his hands. “It’s just that I’ll never get the sight of her out of my head. How empty her eyes were, that knife to her throat, her frailness next to her father, as if he swallowed her up.”

  A wave of power rippled through the building. Overhead, the stone ceiling rumbled with the unseen energy, the slight vibration of the building sending a shiver of dust cascading through the air, covering both of them. As if some sleeping beast was on the prowl.

  “What in the holy hell is that?” Loki asked. “Ava, perhaps?”

  “No.” Fen stilled all at once, his face going taut. “It’s too close. That’s coming from my room.” He jumped to his feet. Loki stayed right beside him, and they paced each other, step for step, through the door.

  Chapter 33

  Celine thought she knew what exhaustion was.

  After talking to Ava, after everything that had been revealed upstairs, she was drained. And she never even made it to see Mir. He’d just have to wait. She felt as though the batteries had finally, truly died. There wasn’t even the barest spark of life left inside her, and closing the door to Fen’s room, she thought she might be the worst kind of coward to be thankful it was completely empty.

  After a half-hearted attempt to strip, she gave up and settled for simply making it all the way to the bed. She fell face first onto the comforter and didn’t even bother taking off her shoes before she was completely out.

  He was waiting for her, just on the other side, grasping her with long, wicked claws of power, so that between falling sleep and waking inside the Otherworld, she didn’t even have a chance to get her bearings. Between one heartbeat and the next, he took her power. He took her will. And then, he took her mind away from her.

  Stole everything she’d fought so hard to regain, while banding her within a grip as crushing as any prison. The dark god held Celine tight as he pressed the images into her, mind-to-mind, thought to thought. Stamped them onto her, as if she were the paper and he the pen.

  In the real world, her hand curled, ever so slightly around the stone, already warm in her palm.

  In her dream, the stone appeared within her clenched palm.

  And as the Orobus forced his will upon her, as he forced her into utter submission, Celine stole a little something back for herself.

  She made herself troll through the depths of his chaotic power, even as she quailed away from it. He felt like a deep, cold sea, the tides pulling at her, an undertow that might drag her down, and still, she dove deeper, immersing herself inside his roiling, ebony consciousness. She opened her mind, stopped resisting, and felt a tiny purloined shred of darkness flow into her.

  And as she stole a drop of his power away, she felt something of herself flow back in too.

  Chapter 34

  Fen burst through the door, just as Celine emerged from the dream. It was not a pleasant transition into reality, even if she did find herself wrapped up in the warmth of Fen’s arms and not the misty cold of the Otherworld.

  “I need…I need…please…” The words were a jumble in her mind, all mixed up and pouring out onto her tongue in no particular order. “Please…I…oh God, I have to…write, Fen. I have to write.” Fen rushed around, finally producing a single sheet of crumpled paper and a pen.

  Fen barked at Loki, “We need more. She writes pages and pages, she’ll need way more than this.”

  “My room,” Loki offered hastily. “There’s more paper in my room. It’s the closest.”

  Fen watched Celine for a second, helplessly clasping the paper and the pen.

  He took her arms, primal rage seething in those blue eyes. “I will be right back, do you hear me? Give me a minute, love, hang on, and I’ll be back.” Then he rushed out behind his father, a blur of motion.

  Celine could have told them not to bother.

  But she didn’t want anyone to see what she was about to do.

  Kneeling down onto the stone floor, she bowed her head and carefully wrote a symbol then another. Celine began to shake uncontrollably. The universe seemed to circle closer, time seemed to grind to a halt as she stared at the pair of markings, angular and foreign on the page, the pen seeping into the paper, a dark magic spanning time and space, the ink forging something new, something awful, something infinite. As if she were being controlled by a power greater than herself, she gripped the pen tighter and pressed it to the paper, the third and final symbol spilling out, spidery black against the velvet cream. Torn from her, despite her best efforts to keep it inside, to prevent this final betrayal. And when the third one was finished, somewhere inside of her mind, Celine heard a click, as if a doorway had finally slid open.

  Feeling impossibly light, she clung to the paper for a moment, gathering enough strength to rise.

  Pushing herself up off the floor, she stumbled through the door to find Mir.

  Chapter 35

  “Thought you’d never get here.”

  Mir barely glanced up as Celine walked in. “So we gotta problem. I need to know if you can read this.” He casually pushed the pages over to her, fanned them out in front of her, and waited. It was Old English, with some manner of Nordic runes mixed into it, maybe an ancient, unidentified form of Norse, she thought. Beautifully primitive, perhaps tenth or eleventh century, although it hardly mattered.

  “That’s an old casting spell I found, and it got me thinking.” Mir spread sheets of her past writings across the table while she watched, completely and totally numb. “Your symbols. They repeat. Here. And here, and here. Every time you write one of them down, there are fewer of them as we get closer to the end, as if the final symbol will open the door. Here are the ten pages from yesterday. At first, I thought things were getting confused, but that’s not it at all, is it? This isn’t a spell to open anything, Celine, it’s a summoning spell. An invocation. An invitation.”

  Without a word, Celine laid the half sheet of paper overtop everything.

  “What in the fucking hell are those?” Something kindled in his eyes.

  A terrible understanding.

  “The final piece. I just woke up and wrote these out. Loki and Fen went to find more paper but…” She lifted her eyes to his. “I came to tell you first, in case you figured out a way to stop this. But it’s too late, it’s done.”

  “Oh, Celine.”

  The past closed in on her like a trap, the word
s a touch of destiny. Of doom.

  “Celine.” There was a sad gentleness to Mir’s voice that made her tear up. “You know what Odin’s going to do once he sees this, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I know, I know.” He wasn’t going to have a choice. Not really. One life for millions, maybe billions. Including his and Fen’s. Not much of a choice at all. “I need to get away, Mir.” Celine clarified. “I mean, away from people, from the city. Away from all of you. Before something happens.”

  If the Orobus came through her, if she was indeed the portal, that sort of power… What it would do, the destruction…

  “Goddamn it. I’ll give you an hour head start, then I’ve gotta go to Odin with this. There’s a car downstairs, Celine. I stashed money and food in it, enough for a few days. A gun too, in a silver case under the passenger seat.” He reached out and gripped her wrist. “There’s a catch. You can’t tell Fenrir. If you do, all hell will break loose and you’ll never get out of here before it happens. There’s a map in the GPS.

  “Honey, I programmed in a destination, a safe house we keep up north. Drive two hours and maybe…” His light blue eyes shuttered. “Maybe the worst won’t happen. Maybe you can ride this out. Keep your phone with you, monitor the news, and whatever you do, don’t come back until me or Fen says it’s safe. Understand?”

  She nodded. She was way past words.

  “You get the hell out of here. I’ll show this to Odin once I know you’re out of the city. And then I’ll tell Fenrir everything, once I know you’re clear. Deal?”

  She wrapped her hand around his and squeezed. And then she spun out of the room and pushed her way through the door to the stairs.

  The car was in the parking garage, just like Mir said. She got in, turned the key, and was on the road in less than a minute. Her heart ached at leaving Fen like this, but Mir was right. If Fen knew, he’d fight for the both of them, and things would turn out badly for everyone. And she’d still end up dead, and he’d end up however deities ended up. So yeah, this way was better.

  Except running away felt like such a shit move. Putting her foot to the gas, Celine navigated the empty pre-dawn streets, taking 90 to 94 heading north. Past the half-lit scrapers, and then the darkened tenements, and then the fancy rich homes, and then the little lakes, and finally wide-open spaces that were all that stood between her and the nothingness that she was heading for. With every mile that passed, she prayed that Mir had kept his promise and explained everything to Fen.

  And hoped he’d keep his beast on a tight leash.

  And she was far enough from civilization that if the thing did decide to use her as a revolving door into their world, she wouldn’t take out a big chunk of humanity alongside her.

  Chapter 36

  Odin strode to his throne, all the better for the edict he was about to bestow on Fenrir. And regretfully, on his mate. He almost liked her, for a human. But he took stock of the man. He sensed, as always, the terrible beast within, but also caught an impression of a lightness, a bliss that had never been there before.

  He has tasted paradise, and now I’m going to take all of that away. Odin shook his head. This would not go any easier if he let himself be weak.

  “Celine is dangerous, Fenrir.”

  “Celine is not a danger to anyone. And none of this is her fault.”

  True, that. “No matter, she is the tool by which the Orobus will enter this world. We need to shut that door. Even you must see that.” He knew the second Fenrir understood what he was telling him, because the light died completely in his eyes.

  Fen stayed silent. To agree would sign her death warrant, to disagree would sign both his and Odin’s. Neither a risk he was willing to take. Fen would be hoping for another solution, most likely. Odin wanted one as well, but he’d be damned if he could see it.

  “I regret this, Fenrir.”

  “You know we are mated.”

  “I have…sensed that.” Yet, Odin allowed no hint of compromise, no yielding in his voice. He’d decided Celine’s fate. One life to save many. This had to end, no matter the cost.

  Fenrir began to circle the throne, easily, fluidly, with deadly intent. “When the gods made me, they made me for one purpose. Only one. Do you know what it is to be created as a doomsday prophecy? Then to be bound as a slave for the rest of eternity?” The footsteps became softer, almost disappearing completely. Odin felt a nudge against his magic, felt it give beneath the wolf’s questing, superior power.

  “How could you? You are the All Father, the one who sees everything. How would you know how to distill yourself down to a single thing?” The shape of the man seemed to disappear as well, melting into the shadows behind the dais.

  A shredding tear appeared in the shimmering shield of Odin’s magic. Then another.

  Fenrir’s voice seemed to come out of thin air. “And then I found Celine in the Otherworld. And this singular idea I knew my life to be, became another. Did you know that wolves mate for life?”

  Bracing himself for the onslaught, Odin wrapped layers of icy blue magic around his body. The wolf had killed him once before, and though it had been several millennia, it had not been a pleasant experience. He had no wish to repeat it.

  “You must understand Fenrir, this is bigger than a single life. There will be no world for any of us, if this comes to pass,” Odin reiterated quietly, even as he gathered himself for the attack he knew was coming. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with regret. “Celine understood the consequences, Fenrir. She knew what the odds were. And was willing to make the sacrifice.”

  When Fenrir leapt, it was with the grace of a cat and the stealth of the wind. The gods had built him well, and as before, even Odin could not stand before him. The throne shattered against the marble, chunks of metal skidding across the slick floor as claws and flesh tore and both of them screamed in absolute fury at the impossible situation they were in. And only when Fenrir nosed the prone body of their once-ruler on the floor, lying in an expanding crimson pool, was he satisfied enough that he turned and loped to the door.

  When Mir arrived, ten minutes later on the scene, it was with a kind of fleeting PTSD back to the day when they had all died before being rebirthed onto this world. With the knowledge that if he had only been ten minutes sooner, he might have prevented it, but he’d promised Celine an hour head start. Staring down at Odin he muttered, as much in frustration as anger, “You dumb son of a bitch.”

  “You’ll watch your tongue, Mir, when speaking to your betters. Even if they are lying beneath you in a pool of their own blood.” Odin lifted himself to an elbow then inched a bit higher. “This was easier, you know, when I was younger.” He finally sat, blood saturating his clothing to a deep burgundy, leaving a long smear on the beloved perfection of his marble. Kneeling, Mir immediately waved a hand across him, blue tendrils of magic sealing the gashes shut, the flow of blood lessening. “However, we have a problem. The wolf is on the prowl, and it’ll be next to impossible to find in the city.”

  “You let him think he killed you,” Mir murmured, wondering at the mercy.

  “It was the least I could give him. If the beast had truly killed me, it would have been a hard thing for Fenrir to live with. Again.”

  “On that point we agree,” Mir murmured, helping Odin to his feet. “Don’t expect me to apologize. Because I won’t.”

  “I’d have probably done the same in your shoes. But I must end this, Mimir, or we all come to an end. I have cast about for days looking for another way, any other way than to hurt that girl.” Odin hurled a burst of energy in angry frustration, shattering one of the pillars. “But even I cannot find it. This is the only path.” And without a backwards glance, he disappeared.

  “Shit.” Mir pulled out his phone and hit a button. “Shit, shit, shit. Celine, honey, pick up. Pick up. C’mon, pick the fuck up. Oh, thank the gods. Celine, listen to me, honey. Odin’s coming for you. You’ve got to get the hell out of there. I’m sorry, I tried. I really did, but he
and Fenrir got into it and now he’s coming. He’s coming to kill you.” The phone clicked off, and he lost the call but looked down as his phone buzzed with an incoming text.

  It was from Celine. She must have sent it at the same time he called.

  And he knew he was far too late. On every account.

  Chapter 37

  Celine lifted her finger off her phone the moment Odin appeared in front of the cabin. From the blood soaking his clothes, she suspected he and Fen had had words.

  Knowing Fen, not very many before the fighting broke out.

  She’d gotten here a scant half hour before and was surprised she’d had that much of a head start, given everything that was going on. Still, it had been time well spent. She’d done precisely what Mir had told her to do. She’d monitored the news, something she doubted any of them were doing. There had been some interesting developments in the past hour.

  Though she was shaking in her boots, given the intentions of who was standing in front of her, years of discipline won out, keeping her eyes steady and her back straight. If she was going to go out, it would be with a little dignity, thank you very much.

  “Celine.”

  “Odin.”

  She sensed a rare hesitation to his actions. Something she figured he rarely, if ever, ceded to. She notched her chin higher.

  Silver eyes flickering, he offered, “I regret having to do this. I want you to know that.”

  “Maybe, but I believe I’ll regret this even more,” she answered wryly. What did the gods know of death, she wondered? The one time they had died, they got to come back, so even death was like a big, shiny do-over.

  “Have you been watching the news at all?” she asked casually, backing away a step. From the condition of his clothes, she doubted he’d been able to find the time. “There are some interesting things happening in Millennium Park.”