“They don’t know what to expect,” Hermes continued, “so they’re holding back, which is the best we can hope for right now. But it won’t last much longer.”
“How’s Sarah?” I asked. Raising a barrier against that many. I shuddered.
“She’s unconscious,” Artemis told me. “Upstairs. With Apollo. He’s trying to keep her alive.”
“I need Apollo,” I said tersely. “Ekhidna poisoned Justin. He’s dying.”
“So is Sarah,” Hermes countered. “And if Apollo heals her enough, she might be able to raise the barrier again.”
“And then die,” Artemis said.
“Better one than all of us,” Hermes replied. He flung a knife out the door as he spoke.
“Sarah’s dying,” I agreed. “But we all knew the price she was going to pay. Even if Apollo heals her, she won’t last much longer. Justin could survive all of this.”
“Only if we do something about them,” Hermes said, lifting his chin at the monsters outside.
“Artemis, can you become a dragon?” I suggested.
She shook her head. “My powers are still too weak after the last time. And the monsters are ready for it. They coated their weapons with Ekhidna’s poison. It’ll penetrate dragon scales.”
“I’ll check in with Apollo,” I told them. “See what he thinks.”
I turned and limped up the stairs. Neither of them noticed my difficulty walking. Their attention was fixed on the pythons and harpies outside. If the monsters charged again, we’d be massacred.
Apollo was going to heal Justin though. Regardless of what he thought or what condition Sarah was in. She’d already given her life for our cause. She was dead the moment I turned her into a demigod. It was just a matter of time. I’d made peace with that, and so had she. But I had no intention of sacrificing Justin, too. There’d been enough death. I was sick of it. I couldn’t take any more. I just couldn’t.
I found Apollo in the room directly above Hermes and Artemis. Sarah lay unconscious on the floor. She was near enough to the window that he could turn and heal her when he wasn’t taking potshots at the harpies circling outside.
“I need you in the basement,” I told him. “Justin’s been poisoned by Ekhidna.”
“What? How?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It must’ve happened when they fought inside her mind. Somehow, the poison manifested physically. He’s a Dreamer. He blurs the boundaries between what’s real and what isn’t.”
“Sarah’s injured, too,” Apollo reminded me. “She needs me.”
This was where it got ugly. But that’s what I was made for. To make the ugly choices, to take the guilt and the blame that the others couldn’t. My soul was riddled with scars, so theirs didn’t have to be.
“I’ve made my decision,” I said. “Go. Now. And hurry. He doesn’t have much time.”
To my relief, Apollo didn’t challenge me. I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done if he had. Mesmerized him, if necessary. Justin would be healed. Whatever it took.
Apollo got up and left the room. But when he looked at me, I saw something flicker in his eyes. Understanding.
When he was gone, I knelt by Sarah. I looked out the window. The harpies were still circling. Occasionally, one would dive at the house and then be thrown back by some invisible force. The witches.
But the harpies weren’t stupid. They were testing. Waiting for a sign the protection spells were weakening. They knew as well as we did that the witches couldn’t keep them out forever.
Apollo had left his bow. I notched an arrow, took aim, and loosed it. The shot went straight into the centre of the flock. It didn’t kill any harpies, but that wasn’t my intention. At this distance, they’d hear the arrow in time to dodge anyway. But the arrow did scatter them, and that gave me time to wake Sarah.
Kneeling beside her, I gently brushed her snow-white hair from her deeply-lined face. Raising that last barrier had very nearly killed her. She was as haggard and frail as an eighty-year-old woman now. She was dying. Even Apollo couldn’t change that.
I peeled back Sarah’s eyelids and summoned my power. She gasped as I forced her into consciousness. She’d raise the barrier once more. I’d make sure of that. Even if it killed her.
I closed my eyes. I concentrated. The divine part of me could still feel a pulse of power inside her. It was like a heartbeat. It was faint, but it was there. She still had enough power to raise the barrier. All I had to do was tell her to do it. All I had to do was ask her to die.
“Hera?” she croaked, squinting.
“You saved us.” I smiled at her.
I helped her sit up slowly. Inside, I was screaming to hurry. But I knew that if I didn’t handle her just right, she would shatter, mentally if not physically.
“You need something,” she realized. Her mind was still sharp. That was a good sign.
“Yes,” I admitted. “There are still too many pythons and harpies outside. If they charge, we’ll be killed. All of us.”
“Then I have to raise the barrier again,” she said.
She struggled to get to her feet, but her body barely had the strength to sit up.
I struggled with whether or not to tell her the truth. Maybe she already knew she was dying. But if she didn’t know, didn’t she have a right to?
“It will kill you,” I told her.
I said it bluntly. There was no pity in my voice. I couldn’t afford any. And she didn’t need tears. She needed strength. I could give her that. I would give her that.
“I’m dead anyway,” she wheezed. She smiled dryly.
“I swear your death won’t be for nothing,” I assured her, steadying my voice with difficulty. “I will pay back whoever’s behind this.”
“I know,” Sarah breathed, closing her eyes. She opened them again. “Can . . . you tell me . . .”
“It will hurt,” I told her, guessing her question. She’d been brave. The least I could do was be honest. “You’re tired, and you might be ready to go, but your body will fight it.” My voice began to break. “But the pain will be over soon. And it’s not really the pain that’s the problem. You’ve felt worse pain in your life. Everyone has.”
“What . . . is?” she asked.
“The fear,” I answered. “You have to try not to panic. You have to give in to it. Trust death. Don’t worry about what happens next, where it’ll take you.”
“Where . . . will it . . . take me?” she whispered, so softly I almost didn’t hear her.
“Home,” I promised.
I squeezed her hand as hard as I could without hurting her. I blinked back tears. I wouldn’t cry for her. I would be strong.
“For the barrier to have the most effect,” I continued, forcing myself to sound calm, “we need to lure them into charging. Then you can do what you did before. Raise the barrier into them.”
“Just tell me when,” she replied.
I headed to the door and called down to the others.
“Hurry,” Sarah warned.
She was fading fast. It was now or never.
“Drop the protection spells, and get them to charge!” I shouted. “Now!”
I rushed back to the window. It wouldn’t be long now for Sarah. I could feel it. We needed the pythons and harpies to move. Immediately.
“When I said death wasn’t that bad, I didn’t mean you should jump right in,” I said wryly.
Keeping her engaged might just keep her alive a little bit longer.
“I don’t think you’re half as mean as you think you are,” Sarah murmured.
I looked out the window. Nothing had changed.
“Artemis! Now!” I yelled.
And then I saw her. Artemis darted out the front door, followed closely by Apollo, Hermes, and several witches. A couple were limping. They were heading for the side of the house.
They were fleeing.
The ruse worked. Harpies dove for them. Pythons launched themselves forward.
It was
all about timing. The barrier had to go up at exactly the right time. Otherwise, it could miss entirely, or worse yet, kill our friends instead of the enemy. The margin for error was so small. So terribly small.
“On three, Sarah,” I said.
She said nothing. I couldn’t breathe. If she was already dead, then I’d just sent Artemis, Hermes, and Apollo to their deaths, and for nothing.
I reached down. Sarah squeezed my hand. She was alive! But she had no strength to talk. There’d be no goodbyes. She’d live long enough to raise the barrier one last time. And then she’d die.
“Three,” I said.
“Two.”
Suddenly, Artemis and the group whirled around and rushed back to the house. Perfect timing!
“One. Now! Sarah, raise it now!” I shouted.
It felt like time slowed down. I needed the barrier to go up so quickly; it couldn’t be raised fast enough. Every moment felt like an eternity.
There was a strange stillness, a hush over everything. It was as if the world was holding its breath. Like me, it watched helplessly as the forces of Order collided with the forces of Chaos.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The collision was deafening.
But Sarah had raised the barrier just in time. It sheered through flesh and bone. The monsters that weren’t sliced in half smashed into a wall as hard as concrete with crushing force. Limbs snapped. Ribs cracked. Screams filled the air--the screams of our enemies. It was music to my ears.
I turned and left the room. I didn’t want to see the body. It wasn’t Sarah. Not anymore. She was gone. I’d felt it the moment her soul broke free. There was no one left for me to say goodbye to.
And there wasn’t much time. The rest of our enemies would rally quickly, out of desperation and fury if nothing else. I had to hurry.
I ran down the stairs, dragging my useless leg, pushing off the railing. I reached the front door, just as it burst open.
“Hera, follow me,” Hermes panted breathlessly.
“What? Outside?” I said incredulously.
“Yes,” he said. “Don’t worry. It’s safe.”
He offered me his hand when he saw me leaning against the railing. Sighing, I accepted it.
Hermes led me outside. Artemis was standing just behind the barrier. Only an inch or two away, infuriated pythons slammed against the barrier, hissing madly.
“The barrier is still up!” I gasped.
“The barrier is still up,” Hermes grinned.
“But how? Sarah--” I began.
“The question is for how long,” Artemis pointed out.
“Let’s regroup inside,” I decided. “We better move fast. Once the barrier falls, they’ll come for us.”
I led them back into the house and down the stairs.
“The barrier is still up,” I informed everyone in the basement. I raised my hands to forestall their questions. “We don’t know how it’s possible.”
“So Sarah--” Demeter began hopefully.
“She’s dead,” I said flatly. There was no time to be gentle. “But she left us with a parting gift that we can’t afford to waste.”
“What should we do?” one of the witches asked.
“If any of you can support the barrier, or at least tell us how long it’ll last, that’d be useful,” I told them. “If possible, I’d still like to do the spell I took from Ekhidna’s mind.”
“Here?” Apollo replied.
“If we don’t,” I answered, “whoever’s behind this will simply chase us down, wherever we go. If we blind his mortal pet, we blind the traitor. It’s our only chance.”
“How long will the spell take?” Demeter asked.
“It’s not time that’s our problem,” I answered. “The spell is fast. It’s the ingredients.”
“The blood of a god,” Apollo murmured.
“I’ve been thinking about that, actually,” Justin said.
I hadn’t noticed him. I’d been so caught up with the fact we’d actually managed to survive that I’d forgotten about Justin and the poison.
He moved gingerly. I searched his face and then Apollo’s for answers, but neither revealed anything.
“And?” Artemis pressed impatiently.
Justin took a deep breath, which meant I wasn’t going to like whatever he had in mind. “If one of you re-ascends, then you transition to your god-forms, right? I mean, that’d be the only way for you to get back to the Heavens?”
“Yes,” I said.
“So if we take the blood during the transition, just before you fully re-ascend, we can get the blood of a god,” Justin finished.
“That could work,” Hermes admitted.
“What other choice do we have?” Demeter added.
“We could try to summon Hecate,” Artemis reminded us. “That was Sarah’s plan.”
“Even Sarah didn’t know someone who could do that,” Hermes countered. “And without her to guide one of the witches here. . . .”
“My queen,” one of the witches interrupted. “Our divinations tell us the barrier will hold for another hour.” She paused. “Sarah was quite strong.”
That had to be one of the greatest understatements I’d ever heard.
“There’s more,” the witch continued. “The barrier appears to be . . . timed somehow. It will last, no matter what, but only for another hour.”
I shivered. Powerful, indeed. Sarah must’ve known she had a choice. She could’ve tried to raise a barrier for as long as possible, buying us as much time as she could. But to do that, she would’ve had to make a weaker barrier, one that might fail before we were ready. Instead of time, Sarah had given us certainty. I could work with that.
“If one of us re-ascends, that’s one less ally in the mortal world. We’ve barely survived as it is. We can’t afford to give anyone up, not if we don’t have to,” I decided.
“Then we try Hecate,” Demeter said.
“And if that fails, we try Justin’s plan,” I said. “Witches, can you reinforce the barrier?”
Almost as one, they shook their heads. The connection among them was powerful. But three were dead, and two more were too injured to do anything. Eight out of thirteen left. Not enough to form a full coven.
“Then do what you can,” I said. “Hexes. Curses. Whatever you can throw at our enemies. Come what may, the barrier will fall in one hour. And we’ll have to leave the moment it does.”
The witches began to move. Doing anything felt better than doing nothing. Their magick wouldn’t be coordinated or awe-inspiring or beautiful. It’d be quick and it’d be dirty. But, hopefully, it’d also be effective.
I called Sonia over. Fortunately, she was one of the survivors.
“I’d like you to be the vessel for Hecate,” I told her.
Sonia hesitated. “I’ve never done anything like that before. Honestly, I’m not even sure any of us know the spell.”
“We can piece it together for you,” I assured her.
“That won’t be necessary,” Artemis said. She handed me Sarah’s spellbook. “I took it with me before we left the apartment. Just in case.”
I gave Artemis a grateful smile. I handed the book to Sonia, who accepted it with the utmost reverence.
“I can follow the instructions,” she said. “But whether it will work, how long it will last . . . I’m sorry, but this is beyond anything I’ve ever tried.”
“Just do your best,” I told her.
She flipped through the book. I tried to contain my impatience. Sarah and Stella had commanded the book as if it were a part of them. Maybe it was. Again, I’d underestimated how powerful they were. The remaining witches were shadows by comparison. But they were all we had, and what they lacked in power they made up for in courage.
The witches worked as quickly as they could, applying oils to candles, sprinkling powders, chanting. The rest of us lent a hand wherever possible. When I found a knife, I pricked my finger and passed the knife to Demeter, who followed my example. Arte
mis. Last, Hermes. Our blood wasn’t pure, not after being so long in these mortal bodies. They had a strange way of changing us, diluting us somehow. But there was no changing what was at our core. Our blood should still have enough power to call out to Hecate. With any luck, she’d recognize that divine resonance when it reached out to her, and she’d answer.
Dozens of black candles, gleaming with sacred oils, were set up around the room. Their flames cast a familiar flicker. But even the light seemed subdued, as if it feared what was about to happen. Maybe it knew something we didn’t.
The incense was burning. Already its thick, aromatic smoke was filling the air. It was difficult to breathe through the growing fog.
Sonia had painted her face with the same red that Sarah had used. I went to her. She knelt, and I pressed my finger against the lines, adding my blood to the multi-pointed star on her forehead. One by one, Demeter, Artemis, and Hermes did the same. Then we each took a white candle and lit it.
The other witches left the basement to continue working their own magick on the main floor.
Sonia, once beautiful and cold, now seemed truly terrible, her face coated in blood and herbs. She sat in the centre of the floor. Two witches sat on either side of her, and Sonia motioned for us to join them.
“We can’t do witchcraft,” I warned. “We’re not mortal.”
“You don’t have to do witchcraft to give us power,” Sonia said.
We all linked hands, and the three witches began to chant, softly at first and then louder and louder. Maybe it was the incense or maybe it was a trick of the light, but I swore for a second that I saw Sarah and Stella with them. But soon all I could see was swirling smoke and dancing flame, and all I could hear was the chant coursing through me. I could feel it reaching inside. It pulled out the divine part of me. Ignited it. I burned.
The energy coursed around the circle and then I heard that unseen chorus. One by one, voices joined the witches, faster and faster, more and more. Their thunder roared. My fire blazed. The sound tore itself out of the witches, not coming from their mouths anymore, but vibrating out of their very souls.
Hera, Queen of Gods (Goddess Unbound) Page 29
