“Old One,” I began, thinking furiously. “A god.”
He shrugged. “It’s all relative. But technically, yes.”
“You also mentioned the sea a few times.”
“These things are all true. I am… very connected with nature.”
“Can I call you Peter?”
He frowned. “Why…” Then he got it, revealing an unintentionally frightening smile. “Oh, well. That might confuse everyone if you suddenly began calling me Peter instead of Mallory. I’ve never been to Neverland, and am definitely not Peter Pan.” His bleating laughter sounded like a goat, which brought me a big old smile. “Friends might think you lost your marbles again, calling me the name of your first betrayer.”
Part of me flinched at his casual mention of my old friend, Peter. The one who had tried to sell me out to Raego’s father. He had enviously chased after magic, in order to be like Gunnar and I, and in the end, it had led him astray. To his death.
“Even then, you were there,” I said.
He nodded. “Lying the whole time.”
“But why? What was so important about your secret? I know plenty of impressive… beings.”
He motioned towards one of the concave bowls, where we might sit more comfortably. I nodded, leading him over. He sank much deeper into the cushions than I. Once comfortable, he responded. “It was because of what was to come. You becoming a Maker.”
I blinked. “You knew about that ahead of time?”
“I helped your father implement the plan. Because he was under… very intense scrutiny. It was his last hope. He knew his time was limited.”
My breath froze. My father had known he was going to die? And for some reason, had deemed it necessary to secretly implant the Maker’s seed inside me rather than prevent his death? “What the hell is going on, Mallory?” I chose his human name.
He looked torn, and I began to open my mouth to press, but he held up a hand. “I must be careful here. It is not just about you. Events are in play. Wicked, wild events. You are only hearing the horns of the war that is to come. This isn’t just about keeping secrets from you, but about keeping secrets from the world, lest they hear.” He met my eyes, a sickened look on his beastly visage. “Please understand…”
I let out a breath, recalling that even Shiva hadn’t known the truth. “Tell me what you can.”
He sighed in relief. “Your father knew events were going to unfold that would lead to his death. Not exactly how, but he knew of three distinct possibilities that all had a high chance of success. He knew this years prior, and spent the remainder of his life building up the Armory, assisting you, bringing Gunnar into his home, hiring me, while also laying many false trails.” I stared at him, numb.
“Gunnar was… part of his plan?”
Mallory nodded sadly. “It was an added benefit that you two got along. But it would have happened either way. You needed a brother. A conscience. A guardian.” He looked about to say more, but halted himself.
“What does that have to do with my old Maker power?” I silently decided to let him talk as much as he was willing to share. I would press him later on details, but right now, I wasn’t going to fight him about every revelation, arguing over every point.
“It was your only chance against surviving the Academy’s retaliation over the Armory.”
I shook my head. “The Armory my dad created was ultimately the cause of my death?” I asked, combining his two statements. He nodded. “My father acted surprised when he heard about my cursed magic fueling my Maker’s ability.”
Mallory shrugged. “He was. But only because he didn’t know that it would speed everything up, making you stronger faster. That was an added benefit. He knew you would die, but hopefully not die if we set things up right,” he admitted. “Not everything has gone as well as planned. And many things we didn’t foresee have happened.” He looked up at the ceiling.
“This room?” I asked, hiding my shock at his revelations.
“Not just this room, but the house being alive, for one. And that you would Master it. He only knew it was necessary for you to be a Maker to stand up against the forces amassing in the shadows. Not why or how, just that you needed to be one.”
I shivered. “But I’m no longer a Maker.”
Mallory nodded slowly. “Like I said, not everything has gone according to plan. But…” he studied me, smiling softly. “You accomplished many things while a Maker. Perhaps all that you needed to accomplish with the power.”
I leaned back in the cushion, which was surprisingly comfortable, and not too dirty after a few hundred years of sitting in a damp room. Then again, they were probably warded just like the books, because I felt no moisture. Otherwise, this entire place would have become one moldy pile of rotten wood.
“Even though it seems opposite, I’m actually very confident that, overall, things are going in our favor.”
I frowned at him. “Why did I need a guardian?”
“That was what Shiva was referring to. He thought my intent had been to use you as a Tiny God. To gain power for myself. I deterred him from that thought when we spoke privately.” He winked at me. “As I had intended him to believe. He can’t read my mind. This is why I couldn’t tell anyone. Not. A. Single. Person. Else, he would have been able to read their thoughts. I don’t distrust him. I distrust all of them. I guarded your parents’ minds as well. To keep the secret.” He took a deep breath. “I was put here to keep you safe from the gods, as best as I was able.”
“Don’t take offense, but why you? You aren’t really known for your legendary battle skills. Just your pipes.”
“Even gods can change.” He grinned at me. “The Dueling Grounds isn’t the only place one can cut loose and learn. Although I had to be very discreet about it. I even had to use the nymphs to lure warriors into their glades, where they would teach me to fight in exchange for… carnal pleasures.”
I laughed out loud. “You pimped out the nymphs to learn how to fight?”
He smiled. “They definitely didn’t mind. And it was necessary.”
“Why are you telling me this now? What if someone reads my mind?”
He shrugged. “You didn’t really give me a choice. I think we’ve had enough arguments in front of others that they will continue to assume you don’t know the truth. Hopefully, we won’t have to play this game much longer. Then again, you are no longer a Maker, so that part of my job is accomplished. The threat of you being gobbled up by a god no longer exists.”
“I feel so much better already,” I muttered.
“Don’t worry. We are far from safe. We need to make sure none of my cousins wake. We can’t let Ichabod get a Hand of God.”
I nodded agreement as I scratched my stubble. “What’s up with the lightning spears?”
He smiled. Like a savage, revealing large, sharp teeth. Not fangs, but more canines than was normal. “I stole them from Zeus. Not as good as his lightning bolts, but better than nothing. He was sleeping, anyway. And it helped my disguise.” His voice trailed off, thinking to himself. “Everyone thinks I’m sleeping, too. And they know Zeus is sleeping. They all assume I’m someone I’m not. Some other lightning god. No one would guess that Pan – the wild god – was helping the Temples.”
I was silent for a few moments as he finally said his true name out loud. “Zeus probably won’t like it if Ichabod wakes him up, and he discovers some of his weapons are missing.” Mallory grunted. But that would be the least of our worries if Zeus woke up. I climbed out of my chair. “Alright. The way I see it, this doesn’t change anything I have to do. Just makes me sleep better. Knowing you aren’t secretly trying to kill me or manipulate me.”
He nodded, standing. “Never.”
I exited the cavern, eyeing the round table thoughtfully on my way by. Nah…
I called over my shoulder. “Let’s just stick with the angry sailor meat-suit, okay?”
He didn’t respond. I turned around to see the old Mallory grinning at m
e. His clothes were back in place, unlike when shifters transformed. God powers, I guessed. “Aye, Laddie. That’ll do. Off to rob the Academy?”
“You better believe it, Danny boy.” I grinned, feeling surprisingly upbeat and eager. Excited.
Fucking Pan. I had never anticipated that, and realized that I needed to do some research on the old god once things calmed down.
But right now, I had a task to do. I’d heard thieves talk about the thrill of the job.
Must be true. Because I suddenly felt like old times. I was rushing off to nab a magical item to keep it safe from bad guys. The billionaire bookstore thief was back, baby.
Chapter 36
We stood in a questionable hotel room outside Phoenix, Arizona, one of those drive up to the door joints located just off the highway. With vibrating beds. Achilles had inserted a few coins, and was laughing with an odd quivering cadence as the bed rocked his world. Gunnar was anxiously awaiting his turn, laughing, reminding me of the fun parts of his bachelor party a few months back. Ashley and Gunnar hadn’t gotten married yet, but after the circus, we had all agreed to take a break. Our trip hadn’t turned out the way we had hoped, but overall, a fun time.
I rolled my eyes at them, but I did smile.
I had chosen the place because I didn’t want anything tying the robbery to me or my house. In case the Academy were somehow able to track my Shadow Walking. I had also considered using a Gateway to a Gateway to a Gateway, all in random places throughout the world, but had decided it was a waste of power.
I had debated even going through with this. I knew the Syndicate would never give Ichabod their Hand of God, and it was equally as unlikely that he would bother the Fae for theirs. The Elders were mine, so they were out. Leaving only the Academy with a Hand of God that Ichabod might try to get his mitts on. And after G Ma telling me about the infestation of spies in her ranks, I wasn’t confident of their security. So, we had to steal it. To keep it away from Ichabod.
Mallory stood leaning against the wall, watching Gunnar and Achilles with a wry smile. His role was to sit here, guard the room, and get us the hell out of here when we returned. Or to stay behind and battle any pursuers while we escaped. I had given him a few of my Gateway balls in case anything happened to me – death or unconsciousness – so that everyone could get back home.
But I didn’t anticipate that. This would be a stealth operation. If it went FUBAR, our escape plan was predicated on confusion. Let me explain. Per Achilles’ request, Mallory had disguised us each as different Asian-looking men and women. It devolved from there.
Mallory was now a large Japanese man holding a Russian Kalashnikov over his Toronto Blue Jays hockey jersey. He had even tacked a dubious looking map of Phoenix on the wall, doodled with red sharpies to mark the most bizarre targets we could come up with.
A table underneath the map was littered with bottles of chemicals, plastic pipes, tools, a box of nails, bullets, knives and a few pistols. I had tossed in a few religious tracts Greta had left on my desk at Chateau Falco. Our discarded boxes of takeout Chinese food sat in the trashcan, and a small pile of bland clothes sat in the corner, looking like obvious stowaway disguises. He had even hung an American flag upside down on the wall, a national distress signal, but most people falsely saw it as an anti-American statement of some kind, which worked for our purposes.
Misdirection.
Every visual cue in the room would momentarily confuse them. Religious Japanese Anarchists? In Phoenix? And that would buy us time.
I hoped it was all unnecessary. That we snuck in, nabbed the Hand of God, and fled, patting ourselves on the back as we drank a cold beer at Achilles’ bar later. I didn’t know what the Hand of God looked like, but Pandora had helped me out in that regard.
She had given me an item that would react to the presence of a Hand of God. This way I wouldn’t even have to use magic to find it. Which was good since we would be in a building full of powerful wizards and their monster guards. The sneakier the better.
Achilles and Gunnar were now casually talking about highlights from last week’s Fight Club, and debating who might be a good match for the next one, whenever that was. Achilles looked like a nerdy Chinese college student, complete with a black pencil skirt, tan blouse, and glasses. Gunnar was a scrawny Korean thug wearing a tan Adidas jumpsuit with black stripes.
I was an older Asian woman, complete with a cane and a shawl, the matriarchal leader.
We looked ridiculous. A confusing collection of Asian, black-and-tan-clad thieves.
And we all had different vehicles parked in different places around the hotel. We even had our escape routes planned out in case the prototype Gateway balls were actually explosive duds.
Achilles had informed me that the Library was sandstone, so we not only needed to blend into the shadows, but also the walls. Hence the color theme of our garb.
I took a deep, nervous breath
We were about to rob the Academy, the rulers of the wizard world. They considered themselves the police of the magical community. But I saw things a bit differently, now. I was feeling more like they were the Mafia of the magical community. Still, they were big hitters. And my clever idea was to disrespect their boss, declare war on them with a bluff that could make me a casualty during Armageddon, and then rob them.
Brilliant, right?
But a very large part of me was overlooking those factors, thinking of only one thing…
I was about to enter the lost Library of Alexandria… Talk about a bibliophile’s wet dream.
One, it had been built by Alexander the Great. Everyone had heard of it, debating how much it had impacted and directed the advancement of mankind. A central hub for knowledge, learning, culture, and art. Then it had disappeared. Or been destroyed.
Two, I couldn’t even pretend to imagine how many books, artifacts, and whatnot sat on her dusty shelves, waiting to be pillaged.
Which was probably why the Academy had pressed so hard to get my Armory. To add to their already impressive collection.
“We’re just going to Shadow Walk in there,” Gunnar arched an eyebrow at me, “hoping that our magic slinger doesn’t send us directly into anything breakable and priceless. Then we are going to snoop around the largest library in the world and find something – we don’t know what it looks like – and then walk out. While avoiding patrols – both magical and non-magical.”
I nodded. “We’ll be freaky fast.” Gunnar didn’t look convinced. I pointed at Achilles. “And we’ll have a guide.” Gunnar’s face remained doubtful. “What the hell? You were the one who wanted in on this,” I reminded him.
He shrugged. “I’m all about picking a fight, getting some payback. But this mission seems poorly planned. Kind of murders my motivation when I don’t see a path to success. Or escape.”
“Just tell ‘em, Laddie,” Mallory chuckled.
“Pandora gave me a magical doodad that will help me sense the HOG.” They stared at me, blank expressions on their faces. “Hand of God,” I explained. “We need codenames for things. It’s what separates us from amateurs.”
Achilles stood. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Don’t sound so cheerful. You were the one who said you could be a big asset, here.”
“I just wanted my helmet back.”
I stared at him. “You have no idea where it is, do you?”
He shrugged. “I was a little drunk last time I was there,” he admitted. He saw the look on my face. “But I’m sure it will be fine. It’s a library. How hard could it be?”
I just shook my head in disbelief.
“We’re doomed,” Gunnar admitted.
I shook my head, this time in argument. “No. We’re not. Achilles is a worthless ragamuffin, which is why I reached out to Othello. She found accurate details on what the Library used to look like.” I motioned for Mallory to join us. He did, pulling out a thick, folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and straightened it out on the bed. I pointed at e
veryone to hold down a corner.
Mallory began to explain, pointing out wings, their historic use, what had been stored where, and anything else that he deemed important. Once finished, Achilles shrugged, muttering. “A thousand-year-old map ain’t gonna’ help us.”
“Aye,” Mallory said, unfolding a second wad of paper, this one marked up with red ink.
Gunnar and Achilles frowned. “What’s this?”
“Othello put some pressure on a few contacts who had sold items to the Academy in the past. Between them, she was able to paint a basic picture of how the place was organized in the last few years. Of course, they could have changed things, but honestly, I doubt it. We’re talking about a group of old men and women who like the way things used to be. Set in their ways. Also, many of the items probably shouldn’t be moved often. So, things are likely as they were. Kept in place. To preserve as much as possible.”
Achilles began a slow clap, sloshing his drink on the corner of the map. He looked down, grunted, and wiped it away with his forearm. “This easily eliminates half the place,” he said in approval. “How did you get it so fast?”
I studied the map, going over my rough plan in my head, and answered absently. “I spoke to Othello as soon as I heard about the Library. Told her it was important.”
Gunnar watched me thoughtfully.
“The wizard banged the hacker,” Achilles nudged Gunnar’s elbow, flicking his head my way as if I couldn’t hear him.
I rolled with his assumption of a physical meet, rather than our phone call. “No. We just did a few yoga routines. Like you and Pandora.”
Gunnar burst out laughing. “Is that what they called it in Greece?”
“We didn’t… it wasn’t…” he turned his back, and walked into the living room. “I’ll be ready whenever you two are finished primping.”
I smiled at Gunnar, bumped fists with him, and then folded up the papers.
Mallory took them, silently wishing me luck with his eyes. I pretended to be annoyed and rolled my eyes. “We still need to have that talk, Mallory. I haven’t forgotten.”
Tiny Gods: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 6 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 18
