“What’s up, my lord?” I asked flippantly, sitting a few chairs down from Ewan. He’d gotten more subdued in the hours since I’d left. I wasn’t sure what the Lord of Mictlan had said to him, but he deserved a damn medal for shutting Ewan up for even a few seconds.
“You are being gifted with fresh armor and I will explain the rules of your melee tomorrow. I’ve already summarized the basics to your opponent.”
I raised a brow at him. “There are rules? Beside you know, win?”
Mictlantecuhtli inclined his head toward me. “Yes. Have any of you mortals ever come across the concept of ritual warfare?”
Dom hesitated before raising his hand. He seemed to sense, as I had, that he and Ewan were not welcome here, despite his jaguar-skin leggings. No one had made any outright hostile moves toward either of them yet, but that didn’t mean the sentiment wasn’t there. Well screw that. I put my hand on his thigh. Dom was my husband now. That had to earn him some rights in this place.
The Lord of Mictlan inclined his head, and Dom cleared his throat.
“From what I studied, ritual warfare was an important aspect of the beliefs the Mexica held. Blood was required to appease the earth and the gods. Prisoners of war were taken to the temple, sometimes drugged, and then had their hearts and blood sacrificed on an altar. They were considered inferior to the Mexica and thus their lives were forfeit if captured.”
“Precisely,” the god said. It was hard to tell, given he was a literal grinning skull, but I sensed that Dom had just gained some measure of approval.
“The heart of a god is a great source of energy. After the last great battle, where we defeated Cipactli and her offspring, Quetzalcoatl visited my realm, with his twin brother Xolotl. He asked for the bones of the fallen, so he could recreate a new race of humans and usher in the Fifth Dawn. He said he only wanted to borrow them, because they would be returned when the new humans died. Still, I refused his request. When he had the audacity to steal them anyway, I killed him, trapping his body in the sea of the dead that surrounds my kingdom. His beating heart is what gives our realm its power and light. But its power has diminished. One of yours will replace it. It’s time to change the lightbulb, so to speak.”
“Oh God,” I choked out. “You want us to—”
It was impossible to finish the sentence. The picture that accompanied it was too damn horrible. Splitting Ewan’s chest open like a scene from Aliens, ripping the still-beating heart from the chest cavity. All of it made me wish I had something in my stomach to expel.
“Quetzalcoatl tried to save humans, just like you. In the end, he saved them with stolen bones, and his own blood; but he left his heart behind to light my kingdom. In truth, I don’t care about humanity, and my spear is thirsty for war. I wouldn’t mind facing the parasites again, and the bloodshed would fill my realm with bones of the dead, making me even more powerful.”
He leaned back, taking a dramatic pause, and tossing a rib bone to the black dog under the table.
“But I am content to allow you your contest. The loser’s human shell will be cast aside, but the heart will be placed on the altar, flaming for eternity. The demon will be trapped in the heart. Harmless, contained, but generating power to support my kingdom.”
No wonder the Lord of Mictlan was being so welcoming. Win or lose, he gets to power his kingdom with our infernal, demon-possessed hearts, like a giant battery. Alive, forever. Contained. But without limbs, tongue, lungs to breath, mouth to scream.
I might be gone, but I wondered if Valerius would retain some sense of consciousness. It would be just like Cat, I realized, kept alive by machines, but without control of her own body. It was hard to wish that kind of fate on anyone.
No wonder Ewan looked subdued. The prospect of having his heart pulled from his chest by his mortal enemy, then put up on display, was about the only thing that could get him down. I was surprised he didn’t seem eager for the chance to remove mine.
“So what do we need to do?” I whispered. “Presuming we win the match?”
The god of death smiled as if I was an especially bright pupil asking a good question. The grinning skull somehow managed to put off an aura of smugness, despite the fact he had no muscles with which to execute that expression. I waited for the answer, sure I wouldn’t like it one bit.
“You will do battle at dawn tomorrow. Once the loser has been killed, you will carve the heart from the chest and place it upon a sacrificial altar. You will allow the blood to drain away and then you will set fire to the remains. This is pleasing to the gods and will be your tribute to us. If you do this, you have my solemn oath your grandfather will be granted entry into Mictlan.”
“No matter who wins?”
“If he wins, it is a moot point,” Mictlantecuhtli said, wry humor edging his voice. “No one will survive, shade, god, or human. It will be war, the battle will consume all, the 5th world will be washed away. The fields will be drenched in blood and ash. Everything above ground will die until Cipactli is sated. The shades, the dead, and my kingdom will flourish. Then, a great silence.”
Bile rose in my throat and rested uncomfortably around my uvula. I wanted to throw up at the mere thought of what he was asking me to do. This wasn’t just putting down Ewan. I could agree he’d done enough to deserve that. But the post mortem maiming and sacrificial pyre? For some reason, it made me balk.
“After the battle, both demons will stay here; only this time, one as my prisoner, and one as my esteemed guest. They cannot be allowed to find another suitable host on the mortal realm. The rest of you will be free to leave.”
I frowned at him, shaking. This wasn’t the agreement.
If Valerius stayed here and I went back alone, I’d fall down dead the moment I crossed the threshold into the mortal plane. Valerius was the only thing animating my corpse.
“The dead don’t return from Mictlan,” I breathed, repeating something Valerius had told me earlier.
The god of death smiled at me, leering with his skeletal teeth.
Then, Natalia… he said, speaking directly into my mind, I will see you at my table again soon.
***
“Excuse me,” I muttered, standing up quickly. The room was spinning, but this time it wasn’t from Mictlan’s mindfucking illusions. This time I saw the truth all too clearly. Win or lose, he was never planning on letting me leave. And why should he? A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, but now that we were both here, why give either of us up? Mictlan was going to squeeze his fists as tightly as possible.
For the second time that day, I bolted from the hall. This time Dom didn’t even try for diplomacy, also a bit nauseated at what was being asked of me. He followed me out of the hall, not stopping until we reached a outdoor courtyard. It was light again, but I couldn’t tell if it was dawn or dusk. Days didn’t seem to work the same here. More shades milled about, eagle and jaguar warriors in similar outfits to mine, only of course much cleaner. I had never felt more distant from my people in all of my life.
Because no matter how much fate had conspired to bring me here and force me into this role, I could never embrace this. No matter how things played out, I was going to die, one way or the other. When Ewan ripped the beating heart out of my chest, or when the nightmares became too much to bear and I decided to give a landmine a try, just to see if it would kill me for good.
Dom pulled me to a stop before the edge of a shallow pond dug into the front lawn. Fountains trickled nearby, with large blooming lilies bursting like purple stars.
A sob tore its way out of my chest and I folded like a paper fan, crumpling to his feet. I’d been trying to carve out a few seconds of happiness during this miserable trip, clinging to Dom before I had to enter an arena, knowing it might be my last chance. Exchanging vows had given me a brief injection of hope, but now even that had been stolen from me. Even if I dragged Dom back into the bedroom for another round or two, it would have the frenzied desperation of a
woman who knew she might have her heart torn out the following morning. If I lost, my heart would be flaming torch for a thousand years, on display forever. But if I won… I’d be separated from Valerius, and Dom would be marrying a vegetable.
Dom dropped to his knees beside me, hands fumbling on my cheeks, trying uselessly to stem the flow of tears. Now that I’d begun I couldn’t seem to summon the steely resolve that had been my constant companion up to this point. Ewan had to be stopped. I knew that. But this was just…
“Shh. Nat, it’s okay.”
“It is not okay!” I shouted. “I have to kill him, Dom. And then I have to mutilate him and set his body on fire.” I wished that was the extent of it. I pretended I was just overreacting or being emotional. This was what we’d come down here for, and I was no stranger to bloodsport.
Dom hadn’t yet figured out the full repercussions of our fated battle, and I didn’t know how to tell him. His arms wrapped around me, holding me to his chest with the solid reassurance I needed. I buried my face into his shoulder and let the grief and doubt pour out of me one scalding tear at a time. When I’d finally finished I felt strangely hollow, as though the bout had scooped all feeling out of me. I was pleasantly numb. If only I could keep the sense of utter calm when I stepped into the ring. I was sure the fear would catch up with me again.
“Let’s go inside,” I muttered. “I want to spend every last second I have in bed with you.”
Dom brushed his hand over my hair again, nodding.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I let him take my hand and lead me back into the palace of the dead; through the Gothic arches and black roses and piles of skulls.
The dead don’t return from Mictlan
The stakes just got very real. Even if I win, I lose.
Either way there was no going home.
chapter
22
I SPENT THE NEXT SEVERAL hours tumbling in the black satin sheets with anxious dreams and stomach-turning bouts of nausea until I finally decided to stretch my legs. I was only going to keep Dom awake and at least one of us had to sleep.
I padded silently from the room, doffing my boots in favor of stealth. There were surprisingly few guards here, considering we were harboring nihilistic demons. I supposed, as Ewan and I had shown up of our own accord ready to do battle, we’d been given rope to hang ourselves with.
I reached down and stroked the nearly-invisible thread still tied around my wrist. It brightened at my touch. Thankfully, the thread of Ariadne had held fast. Cayman wouldn’t pull us out of Mictlan until I’d struck my thread with my wand, sending an almost electric signal back to the shaman, who would then drag us back into our reality.
But now that I saw through Mictlantecuhtli’s hospitality, I knew he wasn’t just going to let us go after the fight. More likely, he’d wait for one of us to destroy the others, then the gods and armies of the dead would dogpile the weakened loser as well, ensuring there were no survivors who could avenge the death of Cipactli.
I’d have to fight my way out. Dom would stand by my side, probably getting himself killed in the process, and I’d never leave him behind. If they managed to separate Valerius from me, we’d just be two human souls, trapped in the wrong afterlife for eternity—one of the millions of corpses filling the keep of Mictlan.
I found myself mulling Findlay’s death over more and more the closer we drew to the battle. Valerius had healed my sister, using my hands to guide her blood back into her body and coax her back to life. I wondered for the first time whether I could have saved him, and hated myself for not considering it sooner.
I wandered aimlessly around the tall walls of death’s keep, my mind a million miles away. I didn’t realize that someone was standing in the entryway to the hanging gardens until I bumped into him. I staggered back, hoping I hadn’t just elbowed Mictlantecuhtli. I was in no mood to deal with him in my current frame of mind. Instead, I smelled the faintest hint of tobacco and spicy aftershave. The material of a duster brushed against my cheek and when I stepped back, I found Ewan standing there.
He blew a stream of smoke into the night air and then frowned up at the moonless sky.
“Sort of a miserable place at night, ain’t it? I used to sit in the lot I buried mamma in and look at the stars sometime. You don’t even gotta choice here.”
The remark was so off-hand and out of the blue that I wasn’t sure how to formulate a response. The night in Mictlan felt like it was trying to swallow you whole, so I sort of understood what he meant by the sentiment. But I was loathe to admit that I agreed with him on anything, so I remained stubbornly silent, glaring down at the water feature.
But then I lifted my eyes to the open sky, following his gaze. It wasn’t really the sky, and I knew the embedded gemstones that sparkled from the dark rocks weren’t stars, but it was close enough to inspire feelings of inadequacy. The vastness of space had always made humans feel miniscule.
“It looks different now that we know what’s up there,” I said quietly. The heart of Quetzalcoatl. Punished for being vain enough to try and save humanity. He’d succeeded, and still failed. I wondered if my heart would be beating in his place tomorrow.
Ewan took a drag from his cigarette and the light glowed sullenly in the night air. He withdrew a pack and tapped the bottom in the motion of a practiced smoker. Then he flicked the top off and offered me a look at the inside. It was half-full. How long had he been out here doing this?
“Want one?” he offered, seeming genuine. I hesitated before reaching in to snatch a cigarette from the pack. I hadn’t had a smoke since my actions had inadvertently set Phyllis’ home on fire. But why not share a quiet moment with my enemy? It wasn’t as if I had a lot better to do. Dom was asleep and I wasn’t going to wake him. He’d need to be strong for whatever came tomorrow.
I lifted the cig to my lips and held my hand out silently for his lighter. Ewan just smiled and snapped his fingers, coming away with a tongue of flame sprouting from his index finger. He usually needed a lighter; he must have learned to control fire, like I could.
“Show-off,” I muttered, then lowered the tip to the flame. It ignited almost at once. “Why’d you bring cigarettes down here anyway?”
He shrugged, running a hand through his pale hair. It was already mussed and I suspected he’d been doing this for a while. We didn’t need to sleep, technically. The energy that Valerius pumped into me made it hard to settle, unless I’d had a recent injury or trauma. The smoke curled in my lungs, a familiar sensation that brought back mingled feelings of guilt and satisfaction.
“Why not? This is the end of the world. Might as well enjoy a few creature comforts while we still can.”
“You don’t have to do this you know,” I said quietly, expelling the smoke on a sigh. “We could just walk away from all of this. You and Bryne could do what we plan to. Tackle the biggest and the baddest threat you can find. There’s more out there, you know. Things to enjoy. You won’t have cigarettes if the world ends. No booze, no hookers, no nothing. Why do you want to end the world so badly?”
“Because she wants it,” he said, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Because I was dyin’ even before you plugged me. It doesn’t seem fair that a million multiplying cells should end me when nothing else did. If I ain’t in this world, it doesn’t deserve to go on spinnin’.”
My eyes widened at the revelation. Lung cancer, of course. That’s why he craved immortality, but he hadn’t counted on being chained to a living demon, intent on fire and brimstone.
“You could have just become a vampire if you didn’t want to die a mortal death.”
“And be a servant to whoever sired me? I think not. Godhood or bust.”
I stared at his serious profile for a few seconds, marveling that I never saw the utter narcissism. “You’re a fucking nihilist. It doesn’t matter if you survive Cipactli does it?”
He tipped his hat to me in a move that someh
ow managed to seem sad and charming. “If I’m the last thing standing, I’m still a god. Better god for a day than a corpse for eternity, innit?”
I shook my head. It was pretty clear to me that Ewan and I were never going to see eye to eye on this one. I took another drag on my cigarette and Ewan ground his out beneath the heel of his boot. He lit another without hesitation and dragged in a breath. He wedged it to one side of his mouth, squinting at me.
When he stepped closer I didn’t flinch. He couldn’t hurt me until we were in the stadium, and the look wasn’t one of enmity. I could have sworn it was…tender. He lifted a hand to touch my cheek. This time I did shy away from his touch, but he held me in place, staring down at me with something like pleading in his eyes.
“What about you, huh? Why do you want this earth to stay intact so badly, huh? I know you don’t give two shits about most of the world. They took from you, didn’t they? The racist bastards who killed your dad never saw justice. The bureaucrats who snapped your wand took your career. Even your mercenary pals would throw you under the bus to save their own skins. Ain’t nobody ever been good to you except Cat.”
“The fact you have to ask why demonstrates the profound differences between us, Ewan.”
He traced his thumb across my cheekbone in a motion too tender for the circumstance. I batted his hands off of me. He let them fall away from my face but took my hands.
“We’re alike, you and me. We could save Cat if you like. Hell, even Dom if you really have to have him. We wouldn’t even have to wake Cipactli. Just the threat of doing it would make the whole world fall into line. We could shape it to our liking. Kill anyone who gets in our way.”
I shoved his hands off of mine.
“Everyone has someone, Ewan. And they’re all worth fighting for. I’m not going to become the sort of authoritarian dictator who thinks that they know what’s best for people. It never lives up to the rhetoric.”
Agent of Magic Box Set Page 60
