Odin considered Mir, probably the closest thing to… What the hell did the humans call them? Friends. Yeah, a friend in this eternity of wars and lives and reincarnated hells. “Vision isn’t everything, you know. Sometimes seeing what’s coming is no advantage. And sometimes the visions are merely the truth cloaked in a lie. Treacherous and distorted. Nothing is assured, Mir. Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean we’re going to fail.” He offered a wry smile. “Although chances are, I won’t be of much help tonight.”
He watched as Mir ran the probable outcomes. “Not great odds tonight, just so you know.” Mir’s voice was quiet as he added, “But you still should have said something. We rely on you, dammit.”
“What could you have done?” Odin offered, “Besides, a way might yet present itself.”
“Hold on to that thought. I’ve got to get my ass back to the museum in a few hours. Freyr’s on watch but I told him I’d take over before nightfall.”
“Good luck.”
Odin wasn’t at all surprised when the send-off wasn’t returned.
Chapter 22
Sydney had five flashlights clicked on. One pointed into every corner of the ceiling and one clutched in her sweating hand. As if that’s going to keep you safe. She rolled her eyes. Still, the light made her feel a whole lot better than the darkness. She checked the digital on her desk. Dark had fallen about twenty minutes ago. The solstice was about to begin.
And so far, she was still here. And still her.
She’d sent Mir away hours and hours ago, fully expecting an argument. When he’d mildly agreed, she’d been both relieved and incredibly pissed off. For about a minute. Until he’d given her that slow sexy smile and kissed her deeply and thoroughly. Hugging him tightly, she realized there was more to his plan, more to everything, and she was just going to have to trust him. Once she’d finally relaxed, he sighed and rubbed his hands up and down her back, long slow careful movements that told her how much he hated leaving. And so, when he’d disappeared, and she’d lit up the little office, it was with blind trust and not a whole lot else she faced the most important solstice of her life.
“You’d better have one hell of a plan, or I’m going to seriously kick your ass,” she muttered to herself, swinging the light toward the door at every imagined sound, fully expecting a swarm of Grim or perhaps Hel to strut in. And it was true, the sounds of skittering, small crawling sounds seemed to increase throughout the day, as if something was gathering outside her door. Waiting became a futile exercise to outlast the thousand noises in the hallway, until she finally flung open the door and snuck across the hall to see what in the hell was going on with those damn stones.
The fur on the back of Fen’s neck went up the second Sydney poked her head out. He kept stock-still as she took a quick look-around and darted across the hallway, the beam from her flashlight swinging wildly around, picking out the hundreds of Grim suspended from every surface. They hadn’t sensed him yet, believing him another shadow, but the moment he moved, they’d pounce.
So he remained motionless, noting how they ignored the girl’s movements completely.
Ah. So you’re off limits, are you? Good to know. That meant Sydney was safe, and as the door to the dolmen chamber clicked closed behind her, he shifted position slightly. The swarm of little black bastards closest to him lunged, just as he vanished from the hallway. Ghosting out to join Freyr, Fen nodded once to the golden-haired god the second he materialized outside.
Freyr raised the radio to his ear.
“She’s in the room with the dolmens. Safe and sound.” Fen heard Mir’s anger ring through the tinny earpiece. “Yeah, I know what you said, but it’s her choice…”
Fen grabbed the radio out of Freyr’s hand, Mir’s words spilling out of the earpiece. “…wasn’t supposed to go in there, I told you not to let her leave that fucking office….”
Fen cut him off. “Yeah, asshole, if I’d have tried to stop her, those little bastards would’ve swooped down on both of us. And she might have gotten hurt in the process.” Fen rubbed his brow, praying for patience. “What I am telling you is, she’s in the dolmen room, and I swear to you, she’s safe for now. The Grim won’t touch her, saw it with my own eyes.”
He listened for a minute and then answered, “Yeah, she’s still…her. No sign of the Orobus yet. I have a feeling he’s on his way, though.”
As Freyr’s hard elbow jammed in his side, Fen glanced to the south. There was a darkness coming that had nothing to do with night. “Yeah, I see it. Something’s coming fast from the south. Got it. See you soon.”
Next to Fen, Freyr pushed himself up from the side of the building, and they both watched the oncoming storm. “How long until reinforcements get here?”
“Right behind you, assholes.”
Mir strode up, Thor and Vali beside him, Loki, Tyr, and Odin on their heels. Fen thought if he believed in déjà vu, he’d probably be feeling it right about now. How many times had they been in this exact position?
Facing what they thought were insurmountable odds?
Believing it might be their last?
But brothers all, at the end of the day. Or the end of the world, depending on what happened tonight. Whatever tonight turned out to be, he’d fight beside them, forever.
His keen eyes on the approaching darkness, Tyr’s mouth tightened into a straight, unforgiving line. “Here they come. I suppose it’s safe to assume Hel got the professor to talk? Revealed our plan to reset the schedule to tonight?”
“I’d say that’s a safe bet.” Mir chewed the inside of his cheek. “Question is, how much do they know? If that first doorway stays shut, it’ll buy us time to engage both the Orobus and Hel. Let’s hope if they do have armies waiting behind any of those other portals, they aren’t ready to be mobilized.”
“Let’s hope the Orobus hasn’t had time to regain its full strength yet, either,” Odin added, face drawn as he met Mir’s gaze. “I’m sorry your mortal has to be involved in this.”
Mir shifted away from Odin’s knowing stare. “She’s safely in the room with the dolmens. You’re sure of it?” he asked Fen.
“Saw her go inside with my own eyes. Hel’s little minions were all over that hallway behind me, so I doubt she’ll get back out. I sure hope you have a plan for tonight, Mir.”
From the way Fen looked at him, Mir knew Fen thought he had a plan. That there was no earthly way Mir would leave Sydney at the mercy of the Orobus unless he was one hundred and ten percent positive he could get her out safely. And Mir did have a plan. Fuck free will. He was going to give her three minutes. Three minutes only and then no matter what sort of shit show tonight turned into, Orobus or no, he was ghosting in there and getting her out.
“Plan? What plan? We don’t need no stinkin’ plan.” Mir’s voice was graveyard cold. “Just ask Odin.” Mir hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “According to that asshole, there’s nothing we can do, save for letting this thing play out.”
Sydney picked a remote spot behind the packing crates to hide. Then decided that maybe a better vantage point was in order. Because maybe Hel was right. Who got ringside seats for the end of the world?
This girl.
Of course, nothing might happen. They were, after all, just a bunch of rocks. But she didn’t think so. If she did manage to get through tonight in one piece, she’d never forget what happened.
Climbing up to the top of the pile of packing crates, she peeked over.
“Now this is more like it.” From up here, she almost felt…godlike. “So this is what that feels like.” A strange thrill ran through her, a shiver of excitement. But mostly fear. It was destiny placing its finger on her, a certainty that whatever happened here tonight, she was meant to be part of it. For a split second, she wished Mir was beside her, but maybe alone was better.
No sense in both of them meeting some awful, gory end.
As far as big entrances went, the God of Chaos’s was anticlimactic. Or maybe Sydney was becoming rather blasé a
bout this whole immortal gods thing.
He materialized into the middle of the circle, a hazy, indistinct mass of shadows, a swirling darkness that was as faceless as it was nameless. For whatever name they had given him, Sydney realized, this thing had no name. Orobus was only a random collection of letters, assigned to something that existed before there were names for anything at all. Evil oozed from that primordial darkness, a slimy, creeping presence that saturated the whole space, climbing up the walls, seeping into her pores until she felt immersed in it.
Whatever blah was presented by the Orobus’s entrance, Hel made up for in spades. Preceded by an endless procession of glistening, black minions, she strode her fabulous ass straight into the circle, shimmery and bright, ebony hair streaming like a banner behind her, heels a-clicking on the concrete. Full of sound and fury, she possessed all of the characteristics the real monster poised to take over the world lacked.
However, stopping in the center of the stones, Hel did seem somehow diminished by the Orobus’s density. Chaos, it seemed, was a black hole, a sucking void of darkness. Even Hel’s own evilness was absorbed into him, as if he were anti-matter to her physicality.
“See? I told you. The old human male said they’d reset them, and they’re going to open tonight,” Hel snapped. “What are we supposed to do now?”
The shadows before her swirled. Her demand would have been comical if it wasn’t so blatantly insane.
“There isn’t much time left while you dither about.” She snapped.
With Hel’s words, the darkness expanded outward, forming a perfect sphere, darkness charged by energy, a glowing, swirling ball of black. The power of it tore at Sydney, threatened to wrench her free from her perch as the crates shifted, and the walls around her began to groan at the force. How could anyone stop such a creature? Syd eyed the stone circle, the sphere of energy, noted the impending arrival of the solstice. Soon, they’d open up a doorway. Maybe several.
She dared a quick look around. Nobody here except for her.
Unbidden, Odin’s words came back to Sydney.
“You stink of witchblood.”
Everything inside of her stilled as Odin’s words, whispered in a dark, tight stairwell, flooded back to her. She eyed Hel, the stones. The Orobus. All below her, hemmed into a tight, narrow space.
All the pieces in their places. The chessboard is set. One only has to make the right move. For so long she’d denied her past. Denied who she was, what she was, in the hopes that this new life would become more real than her old one.
But it hadn’t, not in twelve, long years.
Sydney crept from her hiding spot, skimming down the pile of crates as quietly as she could. Aside from the slight creaking beneath her weight, she silently reached the concrete floor. And when she did, Sydney knew why she’d come to the museum tonight.
And exactly what she had to do.
Chapter 23
Clenching her fists, Sydney muttered a spell, the last one she’d memorized.
The one spell she’d sworn to never, ever use, no matter the cost.
“Conjuro te de morte, Pater.”
I summon thee from death, Father.
The moment the final word escaped her mouth, her father appeared before her. His ghostly face still impossibly kind, his reddish-brown curls flopped carelessly across his forehead. Tears burned in her eyes the second their eyes made contact, while into her head he asked, the gentle timber of his voice sending the tears spilling over. Are you sure about this, sweetheart?
Incapable of speech, she nodded, tears dripping from her chin, his face wavering for a moment before she furiously rubbed her eyes dry so she could savor the sight of him, this one final time.
“All right then, it’s done.” In an airy, ghostly voice, he uttered the spell, the one that released her.
“Quid ego erudivi eos, et libera me.”
What I have bound, let go free.
He disappeared far too quickly, the complicated wave of his hand barely disturbing the air while she watched, murmuring, “Goodbye, Dad. I promise, I’ll make this count.”
He was still fading away as the strange, thrumming pulse rose inside her, as if she were made of tightly wound strings, set vibrating for the first time in a very long time. She drew a steadying breath, feeling the brightness of the sorcery cleave through her, the resounding throb in her blood as it absorbed the enchantment. Padding on quiet feet, she worked her way toward the door.
Not to escape.
She pulled the box cutter down from the counter and slid the blade free.
Rounding the barricade of boxes, she flew behind the closest dolmen, putting her back to the cold stone. A quick slice of the blade across her palm brought a flash of pain while blood welled up. Closing her hand into a tight fist, she prayed she’d be fast enough, before pressing her hand to the rough stone of the first and largest dolmen. As she closed her eyes, she breathed the first part of the spell, every word a wish, a gentle demand to make the magic do her bidding.
“Prasesido mea amicis.” Protect them.
“Salvare illis.” Save them.
“Contain the evil within the circle. Long enough for me to do what I must do.”
The demons closest to her must have sensed the scent of blood, the click-clicking of the long curved teeth in those gaping mouths increasing, the skittering sound of sharp claws on concrete picking up as they closed in on her.
In the center of the stones, the Orobus continued to build power, the orb of darkness pulsing with constant energy now, a bluish brightness that crackled with an otherworldly power, electrifying the hair on her arms, lifting it on the back of her neck. She had a minute, Sydney estimated, before the first dolmen opened.
Or rather, it didn’t. And the two gods in front of her realized they’d been duped.
The stone beneath her hand was wet with blood, it glistened black beneath the white glare of the emergency lighting. One quick, frightened intake of breath, one final brace of her legs, of her feet against the ground, and Sydney pushed off.
Her shoes made a hollow, slapping sound as she rounded the circle, her right hand finding the face of each and every stone she passed. When she reached the halfway point, the thrill of possible success pushed her even faster, not even caring if they heard her or saw her, only that she completed the entire circuit.
From within the globe of energized shadow, Hel’s head whipped to her as Sydney flew past, those narrowed, obsidian eyes following her frantic progress around the outer edge of the stones, Sydney meeting that perfect countenance through the openings between the stones. And when she returned to her starting point, the stone that glistened with a long, dark stain of burgundy blood soaking deep into the sandstone, she halted, put her back to it, and tried to catch her breath, husking out the final part of the spell.
“Huic ego sanguis ponatur ut signaculum super carcerem.”
With my blood I seal your prison.
With a thought, Sydney locked the blood circle tight, pushing her magic into the stones, feeling the rock offer up some initial resistance, and then her magic roared through it, fast as a raging river, as the magic caught on her iron-filled blood, using it as a conduit. One circuit around then another and another. Faster and faster as the magic built an impenetrable wall. Solid yet invisible.
Now she supposed she’d find out.
If magic or science won in the end.
Like a dark, heavy weight, Sydney felt Hel’s gaze settle onto her, the goddess’s cat-like smile widening as they made eye contact. She crooked a finger for Sydney to approach, just as the solstice began.
And nothing happened.
Sydney saw the surprise in Hel’s face, the flash of confusion, the whip of her head backwards, the quick, jerky swirl of the lightening-infused shadows as the Orobus broke apart, reformed, darted through the circle, checking stone after stone. Then the deep, scrape of rock on concrete as the adjustments were made.
So it looked like Mir’s scheme managed t
o buy them an extra moment.
But no more.
Now it was up to her to stop this thing.
“I’ve been looking for you.” Hel snapped, her attention half on the echoing sounds as the huge formation was forced back into its proper position.
“And I’ve been right here, waiting.” Cautiously Sydney stepped out from her hiding place, considering the two otherworldly beings inside her invisible, hopefully undetectable prison. The ring of stones seemed to be vibrating or perhaps humming. Something strange, but familiar… Sydney stepped out, her bloodied hand tight to her side. “So what happens next?”
Hel lifted an eyebrow at the pulsating stones around her. “I’m afraid your guess is as good as mine.” A flicker of amusement crossed her face. “However, since I’m immortal and you’re mortal, I’d say I have far less to worry about than you.”
Probably true, Sydney thought.
She had to get inside the circle if she was going to stop this.
And when she stepped through, that would be the true test. If her magic held when she broke the energy, then it should hold for as long as she needed it to. Trailing her fingers over the nearest dolmen, it sent the slightest vibration through her hand as if responding to her touch, almost like a drum. The circle, it appeared, was awakening, whether from her spell or from the alignment it was hard to say, but something was definitely happening.
Knife still in hand, with an intake of breath, Sydney stepped straight through, feeling nothing but a cool wash across her face as she passed through the spell-soaked wall she’d created. It appeared neither Hel nor the Orobus noticed anything strange, so focused were they on fixing the slight snag in their plan. Good, it would work to her advantage.
Around them, the entire building trembled, and Sydney turned, facing the two creatures. Enclosed within the ring with such a being, her ears hollowed out as the Orobus’s dark demonic power smashed into her. Hel’s hair whipped as if a great wind was picking up.
The Banished Gods Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 64
