Still, it was obvious that Icarus was the might behind them. They were berserkers, and without the brains, they would be run to the ground.
I saw a flicker in the air, moving fast, but when I turned to look, it was gone. I stared harder, and then, almost at the edge of sight, I saw the flicker again, much closer to Icarus, now. I blinked. Yahn? What hope did he have against a horde of harpies, even with his invisibility?
As if sensing this, the harpies began to sniff the air, sensing that something was wrong.
As one, they all looked up at one specific point, and Yahn materialized, shouting, flapping his wings as if to retreat in fear. Suddenly seeing him appear, they swooped after him with horrifying shrieks.
And didn’t notice that he had momentarily – while still invisible – swooped past their line of defense and delivered his payload.
I – being high above them – saw it perfectly clear, and stared in stunned disbelief.
Because Alucard was flipping through the air in a tight ball of golden sunlight, like that videogame of the hedgehog, but made of sunshine.
Rays of light spun around him as he flipped, and struck Icarus like a lightsaber, slicing and melting and burning his wings in a heartbeat.
I grinned as I recalled the Greek’s story.
He had flown too close to the sun and his wings had melted, casting him back down to the earth. And Mr. Porcu-shine must have remembered, because the day-walking vampire had some freaky ability after biting Tory once. Not only was he immune to sunlight – the best gift ever for a vampire – but he had pretty much turned into a battery, getting his powers from direct sunlight.
And… he could use those beams of light as a weapon, on occasion.
I watched Icarus’ wings burn, flare up, and vaporize.
And he fell.
Right into Tory’s horde of monsters, who stared up at the sky with open mouths.
They caught him like a pit of lions would catch a raw steak, and ripped him to shreds. His screams abruptly cut off, to be replaced by much more disturbing sounds. Alucard flung his arms out and golden wings flared out behind him, letting him glide to the ground in safety. I remembered him having black wings of a sort when he had been a blood-drinking vampire, but his sunshine wings were new to me. He resumed the battle as if nothing had happened, tearing into a section of Greek soldiers. Seeing he was safe, I backed out, searching for Achilles. I had seen very little of the famous warrior.
But I couldn’t find him.
I began to grow frustrated. I glanced back at the pavilion, but still saw no sign of an exit. And Aphrodite – no doubt skilled at bondage – had escaped my shadow restraints and was gone.
But I did see Hugin and Munin watching me from a nearby balustrade. Their master was nowhere to be found, but I saw the other gods were still hanging around, keeping me company. “Hey, birdbrains. Know when I can leave? Or how?”
They cocked their heads as if unable to understand me. I needed to know what was happening down there. To get some insight. Sure, I could see it, but without Wylde’s help, I was having trouble deciphering if we were winning, or if it was even close to over. And as much as I wanted to, I didn’t dare let myself go down there while the battle was raging.
War had made that perfectly clear.
My actions might help win the battle.
But it would end in misery, and my friends would lose the war.
This was their moment to shine. To make a name for themselves. And I was stuck watching.
An idea came to me as I saw someone pacing by the labyrinth, searching for something.
“Hey! You two. You like pranks, right? Grab the furball for me. Bring him up here. Preferably without a word of explanation and against his will.”
Even though beaks couldn’t smile, they managed it, and they were somehow able to understand my words again, the shitheads. They dove straight down, wings flared back as they pierced the clouds, moving like meteors. I turned from the war, and scooped up the dust from the Hand of God. Then I righted the table, which amazingly hadn’t broken, and refilled the glasses with wine. Because there was a pitcher perched on the balustrade.
I scowled at the gods hiding nearby, but none of them moved. I tipped my hat in their general direction, because obviously, one of them had brought out a fresh pitcher when I wasn’t looking.
Then I scooped up Athena’s goblet and refilled that, too. I was just topping it off when I heard the yowling, spitting, hissing sound.
Ever been on your back porch one night and it sounded like someone was being murdered or skinned alive? Then, you soon realized that it was just a tomcat in heat?
Well, Talon sounded like that. But unhappier.
I grabbed a glass and watched as Hugin and Munin flapped up past the balustrade, carrying a very angry Talon. He swiped and clawed at the black talons gripping his shoulders, but they must have been made of steel, because I saw only sparks where he struck, and the ravens didn’t seem to be overly bothered by it. Oddly, they accidentally flew too high, bumped his head on the marble ring high above, and then mistakenly dropped him.
He cursed, but landed on his feet, glaring up at them.
He lowered his eyes, saw me, and froze.
“Where is your war paint?” he whispered nervously.
I touched my face, scrubbing it. I glanced at my fingers but saw nothing. I glanced down at my arms and chest and also saw none of the blue paint. I looked back at him and shrugged.
He slowly approached, eyeing the other glass, licking his lips. He snatched it up and took a long drink, eyes furtively scanning the pavilion and columns.
“How are things?” I asked, staring back down through the clouds at the war, chin resting on my crossed forearms as I leaned over it lazily.
“Is that…” he asked, sounding as if facing away from me.
I didn’t turn around. “Yeah. They’re voyeurs. Like to watch. I tried talking to them. Only one of them wanted to do more than talking, but the others are as silent as a tomb. Stuffy club.”
“Maybe we should just leave? Before they…” he trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say.
“Can’t. Not supposed to help. Bad things will happen if I jump in too early.”
He was silent for a few seconds. “Are we expecting company?” He sounded very nervous, likely turning from one of the watchers to another, wondering which god was in charge.
“Oh, the god thing? I took care of that already. She thanked me at the end. You know what’s crazy? I think she actually wanted to die…”
“Who?” Talon whispered.
“Athena. You’re drinking from her cup, by the way. I didn’t wash it yet, but I did wipe—”
The mug crashed to the marble floor, and I glanced back, smiling. Talon was staring at me. “You spilled your drink.” I waved him to pick it up. “Go on, then. Get a refill. Join me. No one likes to drink alone.” And I turned back to the war, watching the senseless death below.
“I don’t think you ever needed to go to the Fae World,” he said after a long silence. I heard him refilling his cup and then he was standing beside me. His stupid velvet boots had masked his approach. I felt him watching me as he continued. “I think it might have been hiding inside you all along,” he said.
I nodded tiredly. “Yeah, I wondered that, too…”
“So, Olympus,” Talon said slowly. “This is it?”
I shrugged. Then propped my chin up enough to take a drink. “I think this is just a set of bleachers they use. To watch us. Like a soccer match.”
He grunted distastefully. “Well, how do we get back? When you’re ready, anyway.”
I sighed. I had considered that while watching the battle, and didn’t like my options. “The door leading up here was over there. Haven’t seen it since, though. Any ideas?”
I didn’t see him beside me so turned around. He was walking the perimeter of the pavilion, and I noticed that we were now alone. The gods had left. Did that mean it was time? Hugin and Munin s
till perched on the railing, ignoring us, watching the world below.
Talon finally returned, shrugging as he leaned out over the marble. “I don’t see a way out.”
I grunted. “Option tw—”
“Look!” he gasped, suddenly staring down at the war.
I turned, and really wished I hadn’t.
“Talon… how long have I been gone?”
He hesitated. “Grimm saw you an hour ago. I only just returned from Mrs. Rippley’s care.”
I nodded woodenly as I stared down at Indie, and the hulking man standing beside her.
Chapter 62
Indie stood before the giant white tree, looking like she had been woken up from a deep sleep, or escaped as a refugee in a boat with dozens of people over the recommended capacity.
She looked sickly, crazed, and desperate.
Hercules stood beside her, arm functional, and clutching his club. She had healed him.
Ashley stood between Indie and Gunnar, who was still surrounded by a ring of wolves. I saw his chest moving, and let out a breath of relief. Still, Ashley couldn’t stand a chance against Hercules after Gunnar had nearly died. Even with her abilities from the Fae.
No one appeared to have informed Ashley of this.
Because Indie was pointing at Gunnar, and screaming for Hercules to destroy him. “Kill his best friend and the coward will return!” she shrieked.
My fingers began to tingle, as if I was holding a live wire.
I needed to get down there. It was time. I could sense it.
I roared, and everyone below us looked up, the entire war halting for a moment as if they had heard me. The columns began to crumble at the explosion of sound, and the very floor began to shake. Crackles of lightning danced around my fingers, and I knew it wasn’t my magic.
This was… something else. I gripped the marble balustrade, and the marble simply disintegrated as if made of dried sand. Hugin and Munin squawked as the balustrade around the entire perimeter began to fall way like dust in the wind.
A flash of light made me look down to see that wild designs were actively painting across my body, as if watching an artist tattoo me in fast-forward.
Except they weren’t blue. They were gold.
Like the Ichor that had spilled from Athena.
My eyes felt hot, and I stared back down, ignoring the protesting groans of the pavilion behind me, ignoring Talon’s horrified shouts, warnings, and urgings that we must flee.
The ravens cawed as well, but I had eyes only for the war. The general fighting had halted, and both sides were silently forming an arced line of flesh opposite the tree, surrounding Ashley and Hercules as they began to square off, less than a dozen paces from each other. The Nemean Lion Cloak around her shoulders made her look much bigger. Imposing. Like some nightmare demon from the darkest forest in the world.
I roared again, and the pavilion rocked. Talon fell on his ass, sliding up to my boots. The marble ring high above fell, crashing around us in explosions of sand and broken chunks of marble, as if my initial touch had weakened most of it, and the last shout had shattered the bonds holding this place together.
The place wasn’t going to hold.
Option two, then.
“I will show them fear in a handful of dust,” I whispered, releasing a fistful of powdered, Olympian marble.
I grabbed Talon by the neck, grinned at his face from inches away – which looked to be suddenly illuminated by a flashlight – and then hurled him out into the open air. “Save him,” I commanded the Ravens in a voice that was much too calm for how I felt. They dipped their heads, and dove after the yowling cat.
I stepped up to the edge, let out a cackle and jumped head first toward the war.
The pavilion exploded behind me with a great concussive boom that I could hear over the screaming wind howling in my ears as I flew straight past Talon, arms tucked into my body for maximum aerodynamics.
I watched, helpless to go any faster, as Ashley and Hercules began to fight…
Hercules came in swinging, hammering his club into the ground as he approached, making great big divots in the dirt as he did. Ashley didn’t move a muscle, waiting for him without fear.
Hercules’ face grew stormy, and he dropped the tactic, going straight for the kill. He swung the club down at Ashley’s face, and still, she didn’t move.
As if choosing to sacrifice herself for love, to make a point. Like those iconic pictures of a girl placing a flower in the barrel of an enemy rifle.
But Ashley wasn’t calling the shots. Wulfra was.
She caught the club with one fist – as strong as Tory had ever been – and yanked it past her, using his momentum to tug the lumbering Hercules off-balance.
And right into the clawed uppercut that struck below his jaw. Her claws tore through flesh, squeezed, and ripped away his lower jaw in a fountain of blood. He bellowed in utter shock, but she kicked his foot out from under him, sending him sprawling on his mauled face as he skidded past her.
The armies stood like statues. Stunned.
Then she spun, tossed the bearded jaw bone, and pounced on him, digging into his back with violent swipes of her claws. Blood flew and Indie shrieked in outrage, commanding him to get up, commanding everyone to help him kill Ashley.
Hercules finally flung her off him, but no one else moved, stunned at the savagery of the brief encounter.
I continued to scream through the air, trying desperately to move faster, but also terrified about how I was going to land. One great big splashy-splat wouldn’t help anyone, least of all, me. But I had a few more seconds to make my final decision on that front, because I really didn’t like the options that kept coming to mind.
Gunnar began to stir, but the wolves held him down, knowing he would only kill himself by trying to stand – let alone fight – in his current state. The broken ribs could puncture his organs, causing internal bleeding. Still, he struggled against them, only able to watch as his fiancée fought the demigod.
And that was what concerned me.
Hercules wasn’t just a monster. He was a demigod. I had watched Athena – after her skull had been roasted – still fight me without too much discomfort.
So, how much of that power carried on to the demigods? And was Indie about to heal him, keeping him in perfect shape while Ashley burned away everything she had? I knew one thing. Without the cloak, Ashley wouldn’t have been able to stop that first blow. And she had given Gunnar the Golden Fleece to keep him safe from further attack.
Taking strength over protection. Which meant she was vulnerable.
And going against a guy who had been tried and tested by the gods, and had come out on top.
As if dismissing his obvious injuries, Hercules turned, snarling at Ashley, his chest a fan of blood. Then he came in close and began to box, using his sheer mass to throw her off balance.
She was fast, and although strong from his cloak, her body couldn’t take the blows. She stopped trying to defend herself – the cloak was no good for that – and began countering, using her speed and strength to try and outpunch him. I saw her ears lay flat as she laid into him, dodging, bobbing, weaving, and striking every time. She used pressure points, particularly the one by his right shoulder. Every three strikes found one blow – at least – to the exact same spot, and his strongest arm slowly began to grow limp, useless, leaving him open to even more attacks.
But before that began to work, he had landed a handful of good blows on her, and she was hunched over, face matted with blood.
I was so close. Almost there. I gripped the necklace in my fist, debating, remembering seeing the Horsemen and their true forms, but fearing that I wouldn’t know how to use it in time. With a curse, I let go of the coin and called Grimm. Now.
The reply was immediate. I can’t fucking fly anymore!
Well, talk about poor timing… I was maybe a hundred feet above them, now.
The Mask, you fool! Don the MASK!!
With no
time to second-guess, I tore the disc from my necklace, and slapped on my Mask. I felt it latch onto my face with a thousand velvety fingers, and horns blared in the distance, great, belting trumpets. Everyone jolted at the sudden sound shattering the relative quiet of the duel. I had time to shiver in anticipation of the world’s biggest cannonball fail before I heard Grimm.
Yes…
Black lightning hammered the earth in one explosive divot behind the ring of soldiers, causing Hercules to flinch, but Ashley didn’t even blink. I heard the snapping of wings from Grimm’s back a millisecond before he caught me. I struck him hard, struggling to wrap my body around his torso, hoping I bounced off into something soft and not pointy if I failed. The wolves, maybe.
Grimm faltered, regained balance, and swept down lower behind the great white tree, and I managed to get a better hold on him. But it wasn’t graceful.
Everyone was so transfixed by the fight, and the two sudden explosions of sound that they didn’t even see the temp Horseman dangling from the flying fucking death unicorn. Or at least they were looking the wrong way. Where the bolt of lightning had struck from Grimm’s arrival, but we weren’t there. We landed just behind the great white tree, and I hid behind my unicorn.
Like a boss.
Alucard was hiding near the trunk of the tree, out of view of the armies, and staring at me in utter disbelief, but I ignored him, staring down at my hand with a frown. I was holding the goblet of wine from the pavilion and… it still had wine in it! No wonder I hadn’t been able to grab onto Grimm properly. I glanced up at the sky, wondering if this was Hermes’ idea of a laugh.
I stared over Grimm’s back as Ashley ducked her head at a full-armed punch from Hercules. Almost too quickly to see, she used that motion to stab her claws straight through the same pressure point she had hammered relentlessly. I knew this, because she sunk up to her forearm into his chest. In desperation, he tried to grab her with his good hand, to choke her to death, but she yanked her arm out, and then sliced the offending hand clean off with her claws.
He grunted, and collapsed to his knees.
Wild Side: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 7 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 35
