Ewan’s eyes went frosty and he took a step back.
“Then promise me this,” he said. “If you win tomorrow, kill me good. Destroy my heart. Don’t leave it down here, on display, to be poked and prodded by the dead like a goddamn relic.”
I considered his request for a moment too long. I’d only want the same. But was it worth pissing off the armies of hell to fulfill Ewan’s dying wish? Was Ewan even worth the risk?
He scowled at my hesitation.
“Fine,” he said, turning away. He wiped the vulnerability from his eyes, and his features hardened. “But that was my only offer, Nat. Don’t scream how unfair things are tomorrow when I tear your heart from your chest.”
I let the cig tumble from my lips and crumble into ash on the obsidian floor along with about a half-dozen others. I ground it out on Ewan’s foot before turning away.
“Don’t worry, Ewan. I don’t intend to lose.”
It came out more confident than I felt. I strode down the corridor, passing dozens of shades. Sienna and Findlay were in the parlor, playing chess like he hadn’t killed her in cold blood a few weeks ago. If they could be friends after all that’s happened, I guess it wasn’t so strange that Ewan and I could still be civil to each other.
I pushed open the door quietly to find Dom slept peacefully. I knew there was no point in lying down, so instead I perched in the small window seat, overlooking the city within the gates.
I took my time, counting every soul I could see.
Every soul that would be lost if I failed to win tomorrow.
Somehow, I had to defeat Ewan, and beat a hasty retreat out of Mictlan, for both myself and Valerius, without getting Dom killed in the process. Mostly, I just stared at my husband’s sharp profile. Now that we were bonded officially, he’d die before leaving me. Anxiety ate at my stomach, like a swarm of bees. I fiddled with the golden band around my finger, wondering if accepting Dom’s ring had somehow sealed his fate.
After Dom betrayed me, I thought I’d be alone forever. Now I was down here risking my life, for what? I wasn’t a savior. Dom was too sweet, too good for me. I knew that now. Maybe I was more like Ewan than I cared to admit, and it wasn’t just the demon inside me.
By the time the sky lightened to gray and golden rays threatened to grace the horizon, I still was no closer to an answer. A knock came at the door and when I didn’t answer the thing came crashing open, startling Dom awake.
The Lady of Mictlan stood in the entryway, a flickering torch somehow morphing her skeletal face like a Rorschach test. I spun in my seat to face her.
“It is time,” she intoned. “Come with me.”
chapter
23
MICTECACIHUATL LED ME THROUGH THE quiet hallways, and into an underground passage. At one point I was separated from Dom. He kissed me good luck as guards escorted him into the arena to watch the contest.
When I was alone with the lady of death, I studied her more closely. Today she was wearing body armor that covered her shoulders and neck, made of a detailed gold filigree—so fine it looked like metallic lace. A small skull clung to each shoulder, dipped in gold and vomiting golden feathers. A gold-plated skull mask covered everything but her mouth, and cast her eyes in deep shadow. Despite her slim stature, she was both intimidating and somehow hauntingly beautiful.
“So what do you think about all this, Micca?” I asked, giving the informal name she’d offered us. “Who are you betting on?”
“My husband didn’t choose this position, but all men cling to power. If Ewan wins, it will mean more souls to fill his pits. More feathers for his cap, so to speak.”
“Doesn’t he have enough feathers?” I smirked.
She spun on me suddenly, her green eyes pinning me to the wall as she leaned in close.
“Only the black feathers come from Mictlan,” she whispered. “The green ones come from the rare quetzal bird. They were as precious as jade, and symbolized life and freedom. One feather was worth a human slave. It was illegal to kill them, so they were bred in captivity, but had a habit of killing themselves trying to escape and could not be domesticated.”
“So that’s why chieftains have a huge crown of feathers, to show off their wealth? Aztec bling?”
“My husband took his from Quetzalcoatl, just before he ripped out his heart. He likes to say he’s the lord, not just of death, but of life as well. Trapped down here in Mictlan, he’s like the quetzal bird… pretty feathers, but will die trying to get free.”
Mictecacihuatl jerked her head, and we continued walking down the narrow passage, only this time a chill ran down my spine. Micca’s intensity was unnerving. I’d barely heard her speak, but each time it was something vague and opaque. The words seemed to shift in my head, resonating like an echo.
Life. Freedom. Escape.
We entered an armory, where female shades veiled in black robes helped me don my armor; jagged plates of dark metal, engraved with runes and symbols, covered my knees, elbows and shoulders. My top was a thick jaguar hide, decorated with teeth and beads. My jaguar face mask was replaced by the curved beak of a large eagle. Micca dipped her fingers into a jar and painted two stripes of bright turquoise under my eyes, and then down my chin.
“I look like Pocahontas,” I joked.
“You look like a defender of Mictlan,” she said, snapping a horned skull to my shoulder. “Which is what you are. But the armor is cosmetic. Victory will only come from inside.”
She tapped her fingers against my breastplate, over my heart, before nodding me forward.
I gathered my new spear and shield—larger and heavier than the ones I’d picked up in the dessert, and more ornamental—and was led by a pair of jaguar warriors down a descending dirt path toward what I could only describe as a stadium. I’d visited Yankee Stadium once with my father before his passing, and my mind immediately flitted to the massive ballpark.
Every seat was packed to bursting, with shades of all shapes and sizes crowding into the stands in order to watch Ewan and I kill each other. My stomach performed a nervous flip when I was led through a dark tunnel. I blinked at the sudden brightness as we finally emerged into the field. This was it. All of our fighting, all of the preparations, all my worst nightmares led here, to a sandy stadium floor.
I scanned the terrain, half out of habit, as I took in the arena. I raised my right hand, and the coiled serpent slithered down my arm and between my fingers, a muscular weight. My guns were strapped to my thighs as backups, and I itched to reach for the more familiar weapons, but I knew they wouldn’t be much use against Bryne.
Ewan strode out onto the field sword in hand, looking like a Greek hero in the armor and the Nemean lion skin. The bow and quiver of arrows was slung over his shoulders. He was lean and cut—not as burly or muscular I would have imagined Hercules, at least the Disney version, but the armor fit him well. He eyed my weapon with as much wariness as I was eyeing his. Both of them had proven deadly enough to kill gods. One of us would fall today.
I scanned the crowd, looking for Dom. He, Sienna, and Findlay were seated in what looked to be a VIP section, next to the Lord and Lady of Mictlan and at least a hundred other gods. I didn’t like his proximity to the god of death. I wondered if Mictlan was keeping him close, just in case he needed leverage against me.
At one end of the field, there was a stone altar. It looked almost like an obelisk, with a flat shelf for offerings, surrounded by carved skulls and dripping candles. I didn’t have long to examine it, however.
The battle began without so much as a fanfare.
The Lord of Mictlan’s voice filled the stadium like a horn blast.
“Begin!” he said, dropping his hand like a guillotine.
Ewan launched into motion, and I felt myself do the same not more than a second later. It was a crucial second. Ewan crossed the field in the blink of an eye and I had to bend nearly backward to avoid his swing. I lodged a booted foot into his stomach an
d sent him flying in the opposite direction, knocking him into a stone divider that kept the warriors away from the crowds. It gave way with a groan of sound and splintered into much smaller pieces.
I could feel Valerius’ energy surging through me, and leaned into it. I would need his strength.
Ewan got to his feet a moment later, lighting fast. He sheathed his sword, frowning at me. I grinned, just a little, grateful to have gotten in the first serious blow. It was short-lived, however, because Ewan reached behind his back and knocked an arrow.
I swallowed hard. I may not have paid much attention in mythology class. The finer points were certainly lost on me. I couldn’t tell you exactly who Zeus had boned in order to create Hercules. But the almost titan-figure had captured my imagination as a kid. I knew most of his feats of heroics, the labors he was forced to do to accomplish his redemption. He’d been far from perfect, and still a grade-A badass. The fact that Ewan was wearing his armor had probably pissed off a number of Greek deities.
I also knew that when he’d slain the hydra for his second labor, he’d dipped his arrows in its poisonous blood, making each shot immediately fatal. If Ewan got in one shot, he’d kill me dead. It didn’t even have to be a vital organ. The poison would work its way through me, an insidious snake that eventually felled its prey with patience.
I blocked the first shot with my shield, then jumped out of the way as another swept past my neck. Each time I tried to take a step forward, his arrows pushed me back. He was playing the long game, trying to keep me at a distance so he could use his ranged weapon to kill me off without ever putting himself within biting distance of Xiuhcóatl. And if I played along, it would work.
It was time to change up the rules. Get up close and personal with Ewan. I was so concerned with avoiding the next arrow that I didn’t see the boulder until it was almost too late. A stone hurtled toward me, the size of my coffee table at home. I pushed off the ground, rather than dropping flat so he could crush me with it. I took three running steps along the boulder and launched myself off of its surface toward Ewan.
Ewan loosed another arrow as I descended toward him and it was only a superhuman spin on Valerius’ part that kept the arrow from finding its mark in my stomach. As it was, the shaft of the arrow brushed along my knee as it passed, sending my undead heart into my throat. Fuck, that had been too close.
I landed a foot away from Ewan, rolling to my feet in a move too fast to be seen by the average eye and lashed out. Xiuhcóatl’s long, serpentine body twisted eagerly to find Ewan’s flesh, cracking in the air like a whip. I missed him by bare inches and he skittered back, real fear playing in his eyes.
He waved his hand and whipped another boulder in my direction, but this time I spun and flicked my weapon towards it, catching its momentum and shooting it back towards him like a sling. It crashed into the wall behind him, splintering the stone and shaking the entire stadium.
He reached for his sword but I kicked his hand away, closing the distance and hoisting him up by the throat. One of the runes on his arm lit up, and his face shifted, melting into something more familiar. My father.
“Nat, please,” he begged. “Please don’t do this. Don’t kill me.”
I hesitated, faced with my father’s visage, begging for his life.
Momentarily distracted, as poisonous as the Hydra’s blood, Ewan struck—breaking my grip and punching me in the jaw. I danced out of the way of a second blow, giving him enough space to knock and fire an arrow that just missed my jugular.
He grinned. “You fell for that, huh? I didn’t think you were the gullible sort, Nat. Good to know.”
“Not as gullible as you think,” I growled.
“Then perhaps you’re ready for a greater challenge.”
Ewan lifted his arms, fire stroking his limbs and heat into a cloud of smoke that billowed behind him, filling the sky with bright sparks. Then a shape stepped into the darkness, a monstrous figure made of magma and brimstone. He’d let Bryne out.
The audience screamed as Bryne slammed her fists down into the ground, so hard the floor split. I ducked backwards out of the way but an explosion seconds later threw me to the side, blasting me with heat. I blocked the next fireball with my shield. It held but the impact pushed me back several feet.
Larger boulders fell from the ceiling, far above, turning the arena into an obstacle course. Along with the falling stones of death, Bryne’s glowing fireballs, and the poisoned arrows Ewan kept firing, it was all I could do not to get hit from the myriad of deathly projectiles.
Kill the host, Valerius said in my ear. And my sister will fall.
“I’m trying to,” I growled. Xiuhcóatl hissed, energy coursing through my right arm like a charged laser. It wasn’t long enough to reach Ewan, but maybe it didn’t have to be. I looked up to see the closest falling boulder, and lashed out with the whip, grabbing it and heaving it like a trebuchet. I groaned at the force it took. It hit Ewan squarely but he smashed through it, shattering it into pebbles just as it reached him.
“Let’s end this, brother,” he called out, in a deep, resonant voice. “As we were meant to. Join with me, destroy these imposters, and we will bring Mictlan to its knees!”
My eyes swept over the stands again, narrowing in fury. I could feel Valerius’ rage and fire coursing through me. Part of me wanted to kill them: the condescending gods who locked him away; who scolded me even as I fought to protect them.
I was dead, without Valerius. And I knew that the lord of death would never let Valerius escape again, even if I succeeded in defeating Ewan. A flash of blue drew my attention back to Mictlantecuhtli. He glowered from the stands, watching the bloodsport with morbid fascination. We’d just willingly walked back into prison and there was no way out. His wife’s pale visage was an ivory mask beside him, but even from this distance I noticed the tiny jerk of her chin, towards the bright green plumes of her husband’s headdress. The feathers seemed to glow, lit up with supernatural energy.
The feathers! My eyes widened. One feather was worth one life. If I could grab one, and then pull the cord, maybe Valerius and I could still survive this. It was worth a shot, but the timing had to be just right.
But the only way to get close to the lord of death would be to finish this battle. I had to end this.
I found Dom’s eyes in the audience. Time seemed to stop as our gaze connected.
He nodded at me, and I turned back towards Ewan, gritting my teeth.
“The time for revenge is past,” I said, adjusting my stance.
“Then I will sever your tether for you,” Ewan roared, singling Dom out in the crowd. Bryne moved towards the stands, crashing down with a great fiery fist. Gods and ghosts darted out of the way as the demon smashed through the scaffolds, leaving a charred pit.
“No!” I shouted, swiping aside another poisoned arrow and vaulting over a careening boulder. The stadium was being ripped apart at the seams, as Ewan fed his elemental maelstrom, but with Bryne on the rampage, it left him weakened. His arms shook and blood dripped down his nose.
Xiuhcóatl grew in size, coiling around me then spreading its head above me like a great oak tree, throwing the whole stadium in shadow. It snapped at Bryne, like a flaming whip with barbed tips, wrapping around her ankle and pulling her back into the arena.
I channeled Valerius’ fire, sending it coursing towards Ewan. He ducked his head, hiding within his enchanted armor, before firing two more poisoned arrows in my direction. I rolled out of the way as Bryne slammed a car-sized palm into the earth, leaving a deep depression. I lashed out with Xiuhcóatl again, catching her finger and using the momentum to launch myself forward.
I soared through the air, crossing half the stadium in less than a second. Then I brought Xiuhcóatl down again, in another sinuous strike. This time, I found my mark. The serpent’s fangs pounded down into the earth from above, practically swallowing my opponent whole. It flexed its jaw, chewing on the meaty morsel like
it was trying to crack a walnut, until it found a vulnerability. Ewan screamed as the sword-like fangs dug into his thigh.
***
He fell to his knees, making a choking sound. Bryne roared behind him, lifting her arms to strike, but when they fell it was nothing more than a hot blast of wind. She’d retreated into her host to give him strength. Ewan’s Nahuatl tattoos flashed and popped, like a fried computer circuit, then went dark as the snake slithered from my hand, wrapping around his neck and arms, squeezing until his face went ashen. He didn’t need to breathe any longer, but it didn’t matter now. Xiuhcóatl was holding Ewan in place until his venom could destroy Bryne.
It took an agonizingly long time. Ewan staggered to his feet, his eyes melting as Bryne’s power distorted her host body. Bryne was a creature of incredible power and the effort to subdue her was clearly wearing on Xiuhcóatl. Ewan tried to pull the snake off of his neck, and when he failed that, he scrabbled for an arrow, intending to pierce its hide with the poisonous tip. I seized his wrist and held it in a crushing grip until the bone ground into dust.
When the light finally left Ewan’s eyes, it wasn’t soon enough. Xiuhcóatl released his hold on Ewan and slithered back to wind around my ankle. I stared down at the man I’d once counted a friend. He looked shrunken in death, pale gray skin mottled and bruised from his last brutal fight.
I’d saved the world, but it refused to sink in. All I felt was a vast well of sadness, both from myself and Valerius. Bryne had been his sister, formed together by their mother for one purpose. And now we’d betrayed that purpose, slain her to appease the gods who only sought to destroy us.
They will try to keep your friends here forever, Valerius warned me.
“I know,” I said, my skin tingling with a sudden exhaustion. I’d defeated Ewan, but now the real contest would begin. The subtle glow of the thread of Ariadne pulsed like a beacon from my wrist. I calculated quickly, now that Ewan was dead and the threat had past, our plan was to use the thread to escape. If I understood correctly, it wasn’t just to help find our way back, it was a magical ripcord, a parachute straight out of hell. But Mictlantecuhtli wouldn’t be eager to give Valerius his freedom, and if I left without him, I’d be dead on arrival.
Agent of Magic Box Set Page 61
