There were no boats on the shore; none even on the lake, as far as I could see. I had no idea how Athena’s people were meant to cross the green water to the house, unless they swam, but we had the advantage of a master of watershaping in our party.
“Manannan, if you would,” Apollo said, and Manannan waved his hand. A pathway of ice formed from the shore at our feet to the nearest jetty. We stepped onto it and followed him out to the house.
The house felt empty. As we came through the doorway into a large kitchen, I knew instinctively that there was no one alive inside it. What had happened to all Athena’s people? A house this size must have required quite a staff to run. The kitchen alone had a bank of ovens and enough counter space to occupy several cooks at once. Where was everyone?
Apollo took the lead down a hallway with several doorways opening off it. There were no doors as such, only curtains for privacy, which were drawn back now to allow what little breeze there was to circulate through the house. He stopped in the doorway of a room that smelled strongly of smoke and roasted meat. I closed my eyes and tried not to breathe through my nose as I realised what kind of meat had been roasted in this room. I caught a glimpse of a charred corpse on the floor by the window, and a twisted hunk of metal that must once have been a gun.
I stayed in the hallway while Apollo went in and inspected the corpse. He only shook his head when he came out again—there was obviously no information to be gleaned from the remains his fire had left. We moved down the hall again, finding two more such rooms, with more blackened bodies in them.
“Do you think they were Athena’s?” Manannan asked. He was looking a little green around the gills, as if this demonstration of fireshaping power didn’t sit well with him. I couldn’t blame him.
Apollo shook his head again and kept moving.
The buzzing of flies should have tipped me off, but I was following Apollo without really thinking, too shocked by the attack and its aftermath to put together what I was hearing with the obvious reason. So it was a shock to me when we entered a large dining room.
The table in the middle of it was large enough to seat twenty or more, but no one was enjoying its hospitality now. All of the dining chairs were pushed back against the wall, out of the way, and on the table lay a body, stretched out, her arms and legs tied to the legs of the table with thick rope. A ragged pile of feathers lay beside her. A thick cloud of flies swarmed the body.
Angrily, I sent them away to find somewhere else to lay their eggs. Once the buzzing mass had lifted, the gaping cavity in the woman’s chest was revealed. Her heart had been cut out. And the ragged pile of feathers was the corpse of a magnificent owl, its snowy feathers now soaked in blood.
I knew what that meant. My worst fears had come true. The woman’s dark hair fanned out around her head, and I guessed that if her eyes had been open, they would have been a cool grey. I looked at my brother, whose own eyes were full of unshed tears. He’d told me once that he thought Athena’s avatar was her owl.
“It’s Athena, isn’t it?”
He nodded, and Jake’s hand tightened on mine. The shadow shapers had cut out her heart and stolen her powers.
11
We searched the house, but it was a half-hearted effort. If the lightning bolt had ever been here, it wasn’t here now. There were no other bodies. I hoped that meant that Athena’s people had either escaped or been let go once Athena had been killed. But, knowing the shadow shapers, their bodies were probably rotting somewhere in the jungle, or even feeding the fish beneath the mangled water lilies.
We reconvened in the dining room. I couldn’t bear to look at Athena’s body and that of her poor, crumpled owl, so I gazed out the window at the jungle. It was so beautiful outside, so green and lush and vibrant. It broke my heart that, inside, such awful things had happened. It didn’t seem right that death should come in the middle of such a paradise.
Jake came to stand beside me at the window. He held a spoon that he was folding and reforming with his metalshaping power, over and over. Perhaps it soothed him to so easily bring back something that had been destroyed. If only it were that simple with people.
“I don’t understand how they could sneak up on her like this,” Apollo said behind me, his voice full of frustration. “How did they even get past the bloody statues on the beach?”
“Yes,” said Manannan. “You would think that being so isolated, she would have been safe here. She should have had plenty of warning that someone was coming. I imagine those statues deploying would have triggered some kind of warning system here. Unless the shadow shapers flew in, I don’t see how she could have been surprised.”
“Unless it was someone she knew,” Jake said. He was no longer holding my hand, but at least he was close. All I wanted to do was put my head on his chest and cry. We’d been so sure of finding the lightning bolt here. I’d thought our quest to recover Zeus was nearly done. Finally, our world would be put right, and the shadow shapers stopped. Now, it seemed that goal was even further out of reach, and another god lost into the bargain.
No one said anything. We’d probably all been thinking the same thing. It seemed certain proof of our theory that there had to be a traitor among the gods. But we were fast running out of suspects. There just weren’t that many of us left. I trusted Apollo and Hades, but could I really trust any of the others? What if it was Poseidon? He’d been the only one who knew where Athena lived. I found it almost impossible to believe, but I didn’t dare trust my own instincts anymore. Whoever it was, they were obviously horribly good at hoodwinking people. I couldn’t discount anyone, however unlikely.
“How long ago do you think it happened?” I asked.
“Probably a couple of days,” said Manannan.
He ought to know, since he saw a lot of dead people in his role as lord of the dead for the Celtic pantheon. Poseidon had been with us for most of the last forty-eight hours, so that probably put him in the clear—unless he’d killed her before he’d brought us here the first time.
“So she was dead all along, when we were trying to get in to see her?” Apollo asked, shaking his head. “If only we’d come sooner.”
“Perhaps the shadow shapers were here when you were first trying to approach,” Jake said. “And that’s why they left a few behind, in case you returned.”
I nodded. “That makes sense.”
Apollo shook his head. “Something doesn’t add up. Guns couldn’t have killed any of us. Well, except Jake. But I doubt my Ruby Adept was their target.”
I turned away from the window and forced myself to look at Athena’s body. My sister’s body. Her hair was as dark as mine, her long limbs sunbrowned and strong. She had a warrior’s build, with muscled arms and legs. Her left hand, which was closest to me, had callouses on it. They would be from gripping her sword; she was left-handed. An image swam up from the depths of my mind, of her swinging her sword in a practice match, a fierce grin on her face. Her hair was braided down her back, much like Syl’s, and sweat ran down her face as she hacked and slashed against the man who faced her. He was good, but barely holding his own against the goddess.
I’d accused her of holding back, and she’d laughed. “How else would I ever get a match against anyone, Arti? You won’t take me on.”
I gasped, returning to the stifling heat and the smell of smoke and death.
Apollo stiffened. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was just … nothing.” I’d remembered something, but it was too personal and precious to share. I had so few real memories. Tentatively, I reached for more, but the moment was gone, and the inside of my head as blank as ever. I began worrying at the knot that held my dead sister’s arm in place. “We should untie her. We can’t leave her like this.”
Apollo moved to the other side of the table. Together, we removed the ropes and straightened her body as best we could, laying her hands over the gaping hole in the centre of her chest. I smoothed her dark hair back from her face, and Apollo laid
the body of her owl next to her head, snuggled in against her neck. Another sudden flash of memory showed me that same owl perched on her shoulder in life, both of them staring at me with haughty expressions.
“What now?” I asked, looking up at Apollo.
He was staring down at Athena, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “Now, we go.”
“Shouldn’t we bury her?”
“Leave it to me.”
We trooped outside into the full heat of the tropical sun and, once again, Manannan created an ice path for us to cross the lake. When we were back on the shore, Apollo raised his arms and bolts of fire shot forth from his hands, arcing over the water and igniting the roof of the building. He bathed the whole place in fire, working in grim silence, and we stood there for a long time, despite the heat, watching it burn. It seemed a fitting funeral pyre for a goddess.
At last, Apollo lowered his arms, and I slipped my arm around his waist. He laid his across my shoulders and rested his cheek on my hair with a sigh. For the first time, he really felt like my brother, as we shared this grief.
“Our family is shrinking,” he said.
“She will be the last,” I said. “I promise you.”
He dropped a kiss on my hair. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Arti. The shadow shapers are even stronger now. They have Athena’s wisdom. They grow stronger all the time, as we diminish. And we are no closer to finding the missing lightning bolt. I begin to despair of ever seeing our father again.”
There were tears on his cheeks, and the flames reflected in his eyes as he watched the house burn.
“We can’t give up hope now.”
“How can we not, when our situation seems so hopeless? Hermes was right to go into hiding when he did. Trying to fight back hasn’t helped any of us.”
“Athena wasn’t fighting back,” Manannan pointed out. “She was tucked away here, trying to keep her head down, and they still found her. Seems to me you can’t afford to stop fighting now.”
“But what can I do, Manannan?” He threw a frustrated blast of fire at the house, though the structure was collapsing on its own now, burning pieces falling into the lake. “The shadow shapers have the third lightning bolt. And if you’re going to suggest a frontal assault to get it back, you must have rocks in your head. These people are dangerous.”
“You can’t be sure they have it,” he said. “You’re assuming that Athena had it, but she may not have. You need to find Hermes and ask him. Ask Hera, and anyone else you initially discounted. Don’t give up until you’re sure, Apollo. There may still be a chance.”
“Perhaps even reuniting the piece that Poseidon has with Hestia’s would generate enough power to recall Zeus,” Jake said. “It’s worth a try, my lord.”
“Maybe.” Part of the house subsided into the lake with a roar of flame and a mighty hiss of steam. Sparks shot up into the air, though none touched the surrounding jungle. Whether that was because the air was so still and heavy or because Apollo wouldn’t let them, I wasn’t sure. He stared at the house with a face like flint.
I had little hope that Jake’s idea would work. There was something about the magic of threes: Zeus’s lightning bolt had three parts; Poseidon’s trident had three prongs; and my favourite hellhound, Cerberus, had three heads. Each of these three brothers, the three major gods of our pantheon, had an avatar that had three parts. I was pretty sure that all three of those parts had to be functioning to access their full power. United, the parts of the avatar combined to make a whole that was more than their sum.
But, still, it was an idea, and something to be doing. Anything to fight off despair. Because that was getting harder and harder. The odds against us had never been so high. We stayed until the last of the house had crumbled into the water, leaving nothing but the blackened piers that had held it up, protruding from the lake like broken fingers.
Then we turned our backs on Athena’s final resting place and began the long trek back to the beach.
***
Poseidon was waiting for us on the deck of the iceberg, as eager as a dog waiting for its owner to come home. As soon as we were within hailing distance, he shouted, “Well?”
I glanced at Apollo’s stony face, and then at Jake and Manannan, and walked faster across the bouncy surface Manannan had created for us. By the time we stepped up onto the iceberg, the sea god was in a fever of impatience.
“I can see by your faces that the news isn’t good,” he said. “Didn’t she have the lightning bolt?”
“She may have,” I said. “But if she did, she doesn’t any more. She’s dead, Poseidon.”
His face paled until it almost matched his snowy beard. “Dead?”
“The shadow shapers got there before us,” Apollo said. “Let’s get away from here while we still can. We’ll tell you more inside.”
Poseidon needed no second invitation. He had no more interest in meeting the shadow shapers than we did. We were underway immediately, with Manannan’s yacht tagging behind like a duckling following its mother. The five of us gathered in a beautiful dining room, complete with massive crystal chandelier hanging over a table covered with a feast of dishes hot and cold.
Unfortunately, I had little appetite. All I could think of was the dining room I’d just been in, and what had been laid out on the table there. My hair smelled of smoke, which didn’t help, either. I put some fresh fruit on my plate and nibbled on a couple of grapes, leaving the rest untouched. It looked like the others were similarly affected. Even Poseidon, who hadn’t seen what we had, was so shocked at the news of his niece’s death that he only picked at a plate of roast meat and vegetables.
Manannan told most of the story, with occasional help from Jake. Jake was sitting beside me, and I was aware that his gaze often rested on my face, but he’d been careful to put some distance between us once we left the site of Athena’s former home. Gone was the man who had thrown himself between me and a hail of bullets, the man who’d held my hand. The Ruby Adept was back, in careful control of his emotions.
Not as careful as he might have liked, though. He was still fiddling with the spoon he’d taken from Athena’s house, and by now, it bore very little resemblance to the elegant piece of cutlery it had started as.
Apollo said very little, sunk in gloom. For a sun god, his disposition wasn’t particularly sunny. If it wasn’t for the shining golden hair, he could have given Hades a run for his money as a Lord of the Dead.
When Manannan finished the tale, Poseidon sat staring into his wine for a long time, twirling the delicate stem of his wine glass between his fingers. Losing a god was a terrible shock, since they were never expected to die. This last year had shaken up our pantheon in ways that would take a long time to recover from. We might all end up as gloomy as my twin.
Jake’s spoon now looked like a child’s first efforts to craft a spoon out of clay, and his face was white.
“Are you all right?” I whispered, leaning closer while the others applied themselves to the task of getting as drunk as possible. Even Manannan looked as though he’d seen a ghost, though his pantheon wasn’t affected.
Jake crushed the misshapen spoon into a solid lump and let out a shaky breath. “I can’t metalshape.”
“What?” My glance flew to his fist, still clenched around the lump of former spoon. I thought he’d been soothing himself by fiddling with it, but instead he’d been testing his power. “Not at all?”
“Barely.” He had a tight hold on his emotions, but I could sense the panic beneath the surface.
“You’re just tired from all that effort with the statues.”
“Maybe.”
I could tell he didn’t believe that. He’d been saying ever since I’d met him that metalshaping was getting harder—was this the end? If Jake, who’d brought statues to life and crafted an exquisite copy of Apollo’s avatar with his power, could no longer even mould a simple spoon shape properly …
We were in big trouble.
I closed
a comforting hand around his clenched one, and he didn’t pull away. Time was ticking away even faster now, and the buzzer was about to sound. We didn’t have time to sit around mourning; we had to come up with a plan.
I turned to Poseidon, who was still staring morosely into his goblet. “Jake suggested that we should try bringing your piece of the lightning bolt together with Hestia’s—”
“No.” Poseidon didn’t even look up.
“There could be enough power even with only two pieces, to bring Zeus back.”
“I said no.”
Selling second-hand books had never been this hard. I felt a pang of nostalgia for those less complicated days, when all I had to worry about was whether Erik Anders would find me.
“But why? Sitting here hiding it does nothing. It could work—but you won’t know if you won’t let us try.”
He slammed his free hand on the table, making the wine in everyone’s glasses jump. “Are you the traitor, to keep nagging me so? Maybe it would suit your plans to get your hands on the lightning bolt, hmm?”
There was a shocked intake of breath around the room, and Apollo surged to his feet. “That’s my sister you’re accusing.”
“And she’s my niece, you golden nincompoop. That doesn’t prove she’s innocent, does it?”
I took a deep breath to calm my rage. “No, but I would have thought that rescuing both Apollo and Hades from the shadow shapers might have.”
He looked away and shrugged. I’d never met a person before who had so much trouble admitting that other people might be right.
“And I’m not nagging you for my own amusement, I assure you. I’m trying to work out what to do. We can’t just sit here and let the world burn.”
“Well, it won’t work, anyway, not without all three pieces, and I’m not sending this one back out into danger for anything less than a guarantee of success.” He glowered at me, his thick eyebrows drawing together in a menacing fashion. “You forget, my brother sent this to me for a reason. He trusted me to protect it. And protect it is what I will do.”
Caged Lightning Page 13
