by E. A. Copen
On the other side of the room, Beth leaned against the wall, clutching her ribs. She was covered in blood, but somehow still conscious.
Haru’s hand came down on my shoulder. “Leave her!”
I pushed his hand away and stumbled through the debris to grab her by the arm. “Come on!”
She wouldn’t move.
“What are you doing?” I shouted over the sound of metal bending.
“Go without me. I’ll just slow you down. Besides, I’m dead already. My magic... I can’t heal this.” She pulled her hands away. “I deserve to die for what I’ve done.”
“Nobody deserves to die alone.” I forced her arm over my shoulder and picked her up. With all the weight she’d lost as Famine, she must’ve barely weighed a hundred pounds. With Beth in my arms, I ran for the exit as fast as my feet could carry me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I don’t know how we made it out before Charity Hospital came down. All I remember is running through clouds of debris, the floor shifting under my feet as if it were alive. It was dark and I had no sense of direction but my own instinct. Yet, somehow, we burst through the front door and stumbled into the courtyard. I wanted to stop, but Haru pulled me on. We were too close to the building still. If it came down, it would crush us.
We moved to the street where Karasu was waiting for us with Emma slung over his shoulder. He ushered us to the other side where we stood under an awning and watched the titanic building sink. Thirteen floors and eighty years of history crumbled to dust before our eyes as one of the largest hospitals in the country fell apart in minutes.
I coughed as the dust cloud settled and lowered Beth to the ground. “We need to get off the street. How bad is it? Can you heal it?”
Beth lifted her hands and pulled up her shirt. A big, purplish splash colored her whole side. Blood seeped out of a hole the size of my pinky, dark and thick. Her eyes fell on the horn I’d hurriedly tucked into my pocket. It was too big to fit, but somehow it hadn’t fallen out while we were running. I’d just wedged it in there good. “You need a Horseman to deliver it.” Her eyes met mine.
“Beth, no.” I shook my head.
She put her hand to my chest. “You’re more alive than I’ve been in months. You have people who need you. Friends, family. And you have more work to do here. I’m done. Even if this bullet didn’t kill me, I have nothing. Let me do this.”
My throat was suddenly too tight to speak. She was right and I knew it.
“We still need a boat,” Haru said, “and to sail it out to Typhon. Can you make it that long?”
Beth nodded. “With stitches and bandaging, yes. So long as I don’t move around much. I’ll stay below deck until it’s time.”
Haru patted my shoulder. “Well then, all we need is a boat, right?”
“Not quite.” I drew Loki’s soul out of my pocket. It cast a golden glow over all the faces gathered on the dusty street. I mumbled the incantation one last time and pressed the god’s soul into the last band on the horn. “I need a drop of blood from each of the Four Horsemen.” I glanced back at the rubble, realizing we’d left Felicia inside. “But Felicia...”
Haru snorted and pulled his shirt over his head. He had me hold the horn in front of me and wrung the shirt out over it, squeezing a stream of blood out. “Pretty sure some of that’s hers,” he said casually.
I thought I was going to be sick.
He didn’t bother to put his shirt back on before he drew his sword just enough to slice open his thumb, which he pressed against the side of the horn. “Is that enough?”
I frowned at the bloody thumbprint and drew my bone-handled knife to prick my thumb. “I think so,” I said and pressed my thumbprint on the space next to his.
Beth lifted a shaky hand and put it over the horn, leaving a thick streak of blood behind.
Power sparked and the horn began to vibrate. Rather than its normal dull shade of gray, it lit up like a hot poker, the carved runes glowing red hot. I lifted the horn and held it out to Beth. “It’s ready.”
Police sirens echoed down the street. Karasu shifted his grip on Emma. “We should be elsewhere. I suggest you don’t travel by foot, injured as you are.”
I glanced around. A big block of concrete had landed on top of my car and squished it like a bug. I was suddenly really glad the Tengu had gotten Emma out of there. There weren’t many cars on the street with the evacuation and all, and most of them were covered in dust and debris from the hospital coming down, but there was a Ford Explorer that’d survived.
“I’ll be right back,” I said and stood up.
Breaking into a car’s one of the easiest things to do, especially if you don’t care whether the window stays intact. It’s simple thing to pick up a rock, wrap your hand in a shirt, and smash in the window. That one didn’t even have an alarm enabled. I checked the visor for a spare key and found one tucked under the passenger side. Even I get lucky occasionally.
While Haru carefully loaded Beth into one of the back seats, I glanced at Karasu. He was using some twine to secure Emma on his back, probably so he could fly to wherever he was going. “Now that Loki’s gone, do you think she’s back to herself?” I asked Beth.
Beth shook her head. “I can still feel the spell in my head. He used the same magic with me. Difference is, I didn’t fight it. I had no reason to. Not until now. She won’t get better just because he’s gone.”
I jogged over to Karasu who was testing out his wings with the new weight. He took to the sky just before I got there, so I put my hands around my mouth and shouted, “Take good care of her, Karasu! I’ll be back soon!”
The Tengu somehow gave me a thumbs up, despite not having any actual thumbs.
I let Haru drive, which was probably a bad decision, in retrospect. He had just totaled a very expensive car. But I was too beat to focus on driving in the wind and rain. I fell asleep almost as soon as my butt hit the seat only to have Haru shake me awake.
We’d stopped in the parking lot of some factory I couldn’t identify. Rain sluiced down the windshield and pooled in the lower-lying sections of the parking lot, turning it into a shallow lake. There was no thunder, no lightning. Just the constant tapping of raindrops pelting the car.
I blinked wearily at Haru, who pointed to the back seat with a thumb. I thought he meant Beth, but she’d drawn herself up so she only took up part of the car. At some point, we must’ve stopped to get some supplies because she was putting the finishing touches on patching herself up temporarily. She was still really pale and covered in drying blood, but that wasn’t what Haru was gesturing to.
Someone else had joined us in the car.
I blinked twice, just to make sure I was awake and seeing him. “Hades?”
“He just sort of showed up about two minutes ago,” Haru reported. “Said he was here for you?”
He turned away from frowning at Beth. “I did tell you I would return.”
In all the excitement, I’d almost forgotten about him. I shifted my staff and twisted to look at him. “You’re off the hook.”
“Off the...” Hades gave me a questioning look.
“I don’t need your soul anymore, man. Congrats. Plan A is back on.”
His face lit up brightly. “You mean I don’t have to die? Oh, this is wonderful news! Persephone will be thrilled! Tell me, is there anything I can do to repay you for this kindness?”
“Kindness?” I rubbed my face and wished I had time to change into something dry. It’d be pointless. We’d be heading out onto open water soon, sailing into a hurricane. If we could find a boat. “I’m the one who pulled your soul out and destroyed your body to begin with. I owe you. We’ll see about getting you a new body if I survive this mess.”
“Then I had best assist you.” He leaned forward and whispered loudly, “I hear you are in need of a sailing vessel.”
“I thought the Dutchman was the only boat you had?”
Hades boomed with laughter. “It is! But the Dutchman
is indestructible in a manner of speaking. It always finds a way to put itself back together, given enough time and the right captain.”
Indestructible apparently didn’t mean the same thing to him as it did to me. The last time I’d seen the Flying Dutchman, a Kraken had torn it apart and dragged it to the bottom of a temporary ocean covering Hades’ palace.
I cringed to think of what it might look like now. “Is she seaworthy?”
That only made Hades laugh more. He clamped a hand down on my shoulder and another on Haru’s. “See for yourself!”
The next thing I knew, we stood in a small room with a low ceiling. The room tipped violently one way before turning the other. Everything that wasn’t strapped down rolled with the tilt.
I turned a little too fast and my stomach reminded me why I hated boats and choppy water. Good thing I hadn’t eaten anything solid in the last day or so. Haru hopped out of the way. “Hey! These are my favorite shoes.”
Beth stumbled to the side, grabbing a support post to hold herself up. “You could’ve warned us.” She scowled at Hades, who seemed pleased with his handiwork. “Where are we anyway?”
He dusted his hands off with a big smile and a twinkle in his eye. “In the belly of the Flying Dutchman. I put out the call as soon as I heard you needed a sturdy ship and a brave captain, and she answered. Come, wouldn’t you like to meet your captain for this voyage?”
Beth shook her head. “I’ll stay here until I’m needed.”
I tried to move toward the wooden stairs Hades pointed out but couldn’t keep my footing straight. It’s a lot more complicated to walk on a boat sailing choppy waters than you might think. Haru put an arm around my shoulders and helped me stay upright.
“Thanks, man. Promise I won’t throw up on you,” I said.
He snorted. “Better not. By the way, are we going to talk about why you suddenly don’t have a reflection?”
I turned my head to stare at him, but he nodded to a dirty mirror on the wall. When I faced the mirror, I almost jumped back. While Haru was visible on the mirror’s spotty surface, mine wasn’t. It must be a side effect of trading my shadow to Odin, I thought. He and I would have words once this was all over. I’d agreed to give him my shadow, not my reflection. Shaving would get complicated fast if I couldn’t see what the hell I was doing.
“Later,” I promised Haru.
He nodded and we stumbled toward the stairs together. “Don’t think I’ll forget about it either, Lazarus.”
The stairs went up a short distance to the lower deck of the familiar vessel. Wind whipped across the bow, snapping the ratty black sails one way and then the others. Human skeletons rushed back and forth, pulling on ropes and fighting to tie things down. I’d heard of manning a ship with a skeleton crew before, but that was ridiculous, exactly the kind of ridiculous I’d come to expect when dealing with underworld gods.
More stairs curled up either side of the deck to a smaller, raised section of the ship. There was where the only humanoid figure stood at the wheel, barking orders over the howling wind.
“There,” I shouted and tried to point, but the wind and rocking boat kept me focused on keeping my footing rather than pointing.
“Aft or fore?” Haru yelled back.
“How the hell should I know? I don’t speak boat! That way!” I fought against the wind to march toward figure. It took more effort than you’d think it would to make it the short distance across the deck and up the short flight of stairs.
When I did, I found none other than Captain Jean Lafitte himself at the wheel. He turned away from the wheel only briefly to acknowledge me with a nod. “About time you joined us, Lazarus.”
A big wave hit the side of the boat. I raised a hand to keep the ocean spray from hitting my face. “Where the hell have you been all this time?”
“Did you think the Dutchman put herself back together? No! I had to sail the most treacherous seas in the underworld, battling monsters and creatures you’ve only dreamed of, armed with little more than my own wit and whatever I could find. Then I had to round up this unruly crew and whip them into shape. Kevin! You scurvy bastard! Get that rope secured or I’ll pick my teeth with your finger bones!” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “No time to talk. I hear we’re hunting a hurricane.”
“More like sailing into one. There’s a Titan at the center of it. You up for that?”
“Am I up for it?” He threw his head back and cackled like a madman before spinning the wheel. “Hold onto your knickers, Horsemen. This is going to be one bumpy ride.”
Chapter Thirty
I went back below deck to wait. Above, I would’ve just been in the way since I didn’t know the first thing about sailing and my stomach wouldn’t settle, no matter how many times I gagged.
Even below, it wasn’t an easy ride. Ocean waves sprayed over the side of the boat with increasing frequency, and all that water had nowhere to go but down into the hold with us. There wasn’t enough water for us to be in danger of capsizing, not yet, but it was deep enough to be up over our shoes. Worse, it covered everything in a cold, briny darkness. Wind swept in every time the door banged open, which was frequent as the crew came to get things or the wind itself ripped it open accidentally. The combination left me shivering in a corner, arms crossed, and fighting nausea.
Beth found a hammock to lie in, but didn’t go to sleep. She stared at the ceiling, occasionally grunting or gasping in pain. I was worried she wouldn’t make it long enough to blow the horn once we reached Typhon, but it seemed the bullet Emma had put in her was killing her slowly. I felt awful about it, awful enough I almost went to go talk her out of it twice, but she was right. I needed to go back for Emma and for Remy. There wasn’t anything left for Beth but this.
All the same, I made it across the small cabin once my stomach settled enough and grabbed one of the posts her hammock hung from. “Hey. How are you?”
Her face was even paler, her lips the color of ash. “Dying. How are you?” She flashed a warm smile, one I hadn’t seen in a very long time.
I flashed her a smile back. “Wow, how’s a guy supposed to compete with that?”
She laughed, then winced. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
We stood in silence for a long time, avoiding looking at each other. I resorted to fiddling with my staff just to have something to do other than focus on all the things I wanted to say. Where would I even start? Beth and I may have had a falling out, but before that it was us against the world. She was the only friend I had growing up that understood me. We’d laughed together, cried together, sat up late to look at the stars together... Neither of us could’ve dreamed we’d be where we were now. Back then, we were just two dumb kids. She wanted to teach history and I wanted to do stand-up. Had the world changed, or was it just us?
Beth cleared her throat. “Do you remember that talent show senior year?”
“You mean the one that almost got me suspended?”
She grinned and nodded. “I told you not to do that routine about Principal Greene.”
“As usual, you were right.” I sighed and looked at my staff, spinning it in my hands. “You were great though.”
“Oh, please. We both know I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.”
“I don’t think that matters when you can sing it in three languages, Beth.”
“Maybe not.” She closed her eyes. The ship groaned and rocked, a cradle being kicked from side to side by angry feet. “I should’ve visited you while you were in prison.”
I looked up from the staff and finally met her eyes. “I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t want that to be how you think of me.”
“It’s not. You’re not that person anymore, just like I’m not the soprano who can sing show tunes in three languages.”
“What happened to us, Beth?” I shook my head. “We were supposed to be different.”
Beth smiled a sad smile. “We grew up.
The world’s not so kind to grownups with magic.” She held her hand out to me and I took it, moving closer. “Maybe you didn’t turn out the way you thought you would, but you’re still a good person. Even if you’ve done bad things. The big difference between us has always been that you do everything for a good reason. You’ve become selfless. All I ever did was get more selfish.”
“Really? Because I’m not the one about to give my life to save the day. I wouldn’t call that selfish.”
“What would you call it then?”
I leaned down and planted a kiss on her clammy forehead. “You are the bravest person I know. I’m proud of who you became in the end.”
Someone cleared their throat and I looked up. Hades pretended to be looking away, rubbing the back of his head. “Captain Lafitte said he needs you on deck.”
I nodded, squeezed Beth’s hand one more time, and followed Hades up to the deck.
The weather had only gotten worse while I was below. There was a wall of black all around us, waves pushing the boat hard to one side only to jerk it back the other way. It felt like one good push would knock us over. As big as the waves must’ve been, I couldn’t see them coming until they crested over the side of the boat. White foam slammed into the deck, wiping the skeleton crew’s feet out from under them. One screamed as he was swept overboard into the darkness. The whole sky was an angry boiling black color with streaks of charcoal gray. Thunder roared and lightning flashed, the only light so far out at sea. With the next lightning flash, I looked out over the ocean and wished I hadn’t.
The Dutchman was perched on top of a fifty-foot wave, nothing but corpse green sea beneath us. Wood groaned and the boat teetered a moment before dipping and slamming into the water. Gallons of enraged sea came aboard and tugged at my ankles. It swept the staff to the side and nearly out of my grip. In trying to hold onto it, I lost my footing and went down, careening toward the side of the boat.
