by E. A. Copen
Hades clenched his jaw and leaned back, crossing his arms. “You don’t understand what you’re asking. It would be similar to your Earth president asking all the world leaders to pile their nuclear weapons on the moon.”
“Except souls aren’t nuclear weapons. These will get broken down, put back into rotation. They’ll be gone.”
“They’ll be handed to a madman and his wife!” Hades threw his hands up. “You’ve met Nergal. You’ve met Ereshkegal. How trustworthy do you think they are? I cannot simply hand over all the power of my kingdom, especially if no one else does. I’d be defenseless. If even one ruler doesn’t agree to the terms—”
“That’s why everyone needs to come to the summit,” I said. “And I’ll get everyone to agree.”
“How?” Hades asked. “What could you possibly do to convince a bunch of power-hungry gods to give up their power?”
“I have a plan,” I said, nodding. “I’d rather keep that to myself and see how the talk goes. It would be easier if people just agree to do it, work things out for yourselves. But if you don’t, then I do have a nuclear option, so to speak. No one is going to like it, not even me. If I have to do it, though, I won’t hesitate.”
I tried to keep my tone serious so Hades knew I meant business. We might’ve been friends, but he still had to take me seriously as the Pale Horseman. I couldn’t afford to be his friend in this case. Too much was at stake.
“Can you help me get everyone together or not?” I asked. “I can do it without you, Hades, but I’d rather do it with you.”
He took a deep breath and glanced at Guy. “What do you get out of this?”
“Me?” Guy lifted the wine to his lips and chugged it. “Nothing you need to worry about. Let’s just say I’m fulfilling a personal vendetta and leave it at that.”
“I don’t trust him,” Hades said to me. “I worry that this proposal of yours may not be entirely your idea. How do I know this gathering isn’t Mask’s request? Or his? How do I know you’re still you?”
“You have to trust me, Hades. That’s what friends do. I’m asking you. Do you think Mask would ask?”
He weighed the question a moment. “No,” he said at length. “Mask would take what he wanted. He certainly wouldn’t gather all of these people together. It would be much easier for him to force his way into the Nightlands. And much easier for you. Which makes me wonder why you’re doing this. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just ignore the soul crisis? You could threaten Nergal and Ereshkegal, blackmail them if need be. There are easier ways to accomplish this same goal.”
I shook my head. “That’s not who I am. I refuse to be that guy. If I can’t do it the right way, it’s not getting done.”
Hades nodded and rose. “Then that’s all the proof I needed to know I can trust you. I will host the summit here. It will take some time to gather everyone. In the meantime, you have the use of the grounds, but I must ask for your safety that you don’t leave the palace grounds. You…” He narrowed his eyes at Guy. “You will be under guard. Step lightly.”
Guy grinned and bit into his cup, glass crunching between his teeth. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Hades started away from the table but paused. “Who should I invite from the She’ol kingdom? Whomever I invite, it will seem like I’m acknowledging their rule. Politically, it could be a bad move, especially if I expect to have allies should they attack.”
I thought about it. If it were me, I’d invite everyone. It would be good to see Khaleda and know that she was still alive. Yet if he extended the invitation to all the contenders, there would be more fighting. One could agree to our terms while the other three didn’t, and that would just be more headaches. As much as I hated Remiel, he seemed like he was in charge, but he was the last guy I wanted to sit at the table with.
“Is there a neutral party? Some second in command or an acting king?” I asked.
He shook his head.
Dammit. So much for the easy way out. “I guess we don’t have a choice but to extend the invite to Remiel. On the down low, you might want to send out invites to everyone else, though I doubt they’ll show.”
Hades nodded gravely and left.
“You do realize you’re probably going to start another war with this whole charade?” Guy took another bite of glass.
I hoped not. The last thing I needed on my conscience was another war. I had to be very careful with how I handled the summit, especially considering the ace up my sleeve.
All I could hear in my head was the echo of Josiah’s voice. “You’re a bloody Horseman. They’re afraid of you. Use that to your advantage and make them behave.” Six months ago, I never would’ve considered taking his advice. After all, what did he know about dealing with selfish gods? But the longer I did the job, the more I found myself agreeing with Josiah. Sometimes, you needed to bring a bomb to a gunfight.
Chapter Sixteen
Time has little meaning in the underworld. Without the rising and setting sun, it was impossible to count the days or the hours. The sky stayed lit. People came and went. Hades’ servants showed me to a room with a bed, but as a spirit, I had no need for sleep. I felt no hunger, no exhaustion, not much of anything. Time simply marched by in indiscernible units.
It still felt like I spent a long time waiting for the delegations from the other kingdoms to arrive. While I waited, I spent my time reading reports gathered by Hades’ intelligence. Or rather, Persephone’s intelligence. After a short time, it was clear she was really running things in the kingdom while she was there. Hades didn’t have much of an interest in the administrative side of things, which seemed to frustrate his advisors to no end. It was Persephone who brought me the reports on the other kingdoms, big packets detailing the histories and profiles of the gods I was going to meet with.
Yama’s was the most extensive. As it turned out, he wasn’t just an asshole to me. Apparently, the guy was a stickler for laws and rules, very rigid when it came to defining good and evil. While he’d once been a staunch pillar of good, something had been swaying him over time to see the worst in people. Since I knew he didn’t like me, getting him to agree to any terms might be the hardest sell of all, excluding Remiel.
Remiel’s profile was the thinnest. Very little was known about him, and what the intelligence had gathered was all recent. He had agents all over Earth, and Persephone suspected his people had also infiltrated many of the other courts. There were pages and pages pertaining to an investigation she’d done around her own kingdom, searching for anyone who might’ve been swayed by Remiel. The investigation had proved to be a huge waste of time since the results were inconclusive. The report painted him as a ruthless, intelligent being who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. Adding him to the gathering was dangerous, especially since all his potential allies and enemies would be in one place. We’d have to watch him closely.
Osiris was the first to arrive at the designated time. He came into the meeting space dressed in a long white robe that only made his strange, green skin stand out more. The gold prosthetic chin and painted-on eyebrows only made him look stranger to me. He eyed me with an air of disgust and took his seat at the table, behind one of the cardboard name cards I’d had made.
“Horseman,” he said in the form of a greeting, folding his hands on the table. “I was hoping the next time we met, you would be standing in my line like a proper dead soul. You seem to have trouble following the rules, it seems.”
“Good thing,” I countered. “If I followed all the rules, you’d still be manually sifting through souls. How’s that going, by the way? Did the sphinx feather help?”
“It did.” He cringed as if admitting it was painful. “And you will be pleased to know Anubis has resurfaced, although he’s an infant. I had forgotten how difficult they were to care for. I suppose I should count it as a lesson in humility, being reduced to a caretaker. I’ve had to delegate much of my work to others while I care for him. Without the feather, doing
that would have been much more difficult. I owe you my thanks.”
“Don’t hurt yourself.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Now that’s over with, I should inquire as to the purpose of this meeting, especially given how busy I am these days.”
“Didn’t Hades send you a memo?” I asked.
“He did.” Osiris reached into his robe and brought out a small card. “He indicated I was coming to discuss a crisis of great proportion. Nothing specific.”
I shrugged. “You got the same invitation as everybody else, so you’ll have to wait like everybody else. We’ll fill all of you in at once when things get started.”
Osiris didn’t like my answer, evidenced by the way he squirmed in his seat and turned away from me, but it was the only answer he was going to get.
Hel was the next to arrive. I had mixed feelings about her, especially since I’d killed her brother not so long ago. Loki had been asking for it, and I didn’t think they were particularly close, but it was still her brother. Norse gods could be funny about that sort of thing.
She entered the room clad in black from head to toe, wearing a horned mask that covered half her face. Beneath the mask, her face had rotted away like a corpse. I’d had the unpleasant experience of seeing that firsthand the last time I spoke to her. Hel was vain, though, and the rest of her dripped with gold and jewels.
She swept up to the table and extended a hand to Osiris. “Osiris, friend! How is your family?”
“Well, thank you,” Osiris said, stiffly taking her hand. He was all smiles, but I could tell he was forcing it.
Was there some old tension between the two of them? Hel had been having an affair with one of the Loa. Perhaps she’d made a habit of that. I had no proof to go on, just a hunch based on his reaction to her. She seemed too warm to him, and he was desperate to get away from her. When she took a seat next to him, he glanced at the door, probably considering bolting. He might’ve gotten up and tried to run if Yama wasn’t standing in his way.
Yama was an imposing figure with a hard face, long black hair, and a thick mustache. He always looked like he was about to tell you how disappointed in you he was. Either that or he was seriously constipated. Maybe both. He eyed the room, saw me, and squinted. “Lazarus Kerrigan. I haven’t forgotten you.”
Something about the way he said it made me gulp. “Glad to see I’ve made an impression.”
“Not all impressions are good,” He said, sliding into a seat near me.
“You still want to punish me?”
He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been watching you these past months. A lot has happened. I am known for my many creative punishments, Lazarus, but even I couldn’t have tortured you nearly as thoroughly as you have tortured yourself. You are not without fault, but I see now the intent behind your actions. It doesn’t erase what you’ve done, but it does make me think that perhaps I was too quick to judge you before. I think you have a good soul, even if you are too stupid to know when to quit.”
I grinned. “Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Nergal and Ereshkegal were the next to enter the meeting room. Ereshkegal was exactly what you’d expect from a Babylonian goddess—fierce and painfully beautiful, a ball of sexy feminine rage crammed into a frame five feet and change. When she entered, all heads turned to her. Her neckline swooped low, barely covering her chest and leaving several intricate tattoos on her stomach exposed. A golden mask covered her eyes, swooping back to hold up lumps of thick, black hair. Despite her eyes being covered, she walked as if she could see just fine, choosing the seat next to me.
Her husband could’ve been manning the counter at a Hot Topic in the mall, or on the cover of some ‘90s vampire goth band album. Long black coat, long black hair touching his shoulders, black boots with lots of silver buckles. He’d even put on a top hat for the occasion. He took the seat across from his wife and immediately kicked me.
“Ow!” I rubbed my shin. “What was that for?”
He bared pointed teeth at me. “Stop staring at my wife.”
I sighed. Not this again. Fighting with Nergal over whether or not I should look at his wife was going to get old, fast. “Look, pal. I can appreciate a woman’s beauty without devolving into a puddle of lust. I’m a married man now.” I lifted my left hand and pointed out the ring to him. “I’ve got my own woman to go home to. I’m not after your wife.”
His eye twitched. “Are you saying your wife is more beautiful than mine?”
“Apples and oranges, Nergie. It’s not a competition. I love my wife. You love yours. Nobody is going to steal her away from you. Besides, I get the feeling that Ereshkegal can speak for herself. You want to argue with me, fine. Let’s do it. But not over something so stupid. I’ve got more important things to do.”
He blinked, clearly surprised. “Looks like I was wrong about you. You do have a spine, Horseman. I will be sad to see you go.”
“I’m not going anywhere yet.”
Ereshkegal giggled. “I do like how far you’ve come, Lazarus. Emma is lucky to have you. Nergal, dear, let’s remember to send a wedding gift once this is all over. Provided, of course, he survives. If he doesn’t, well, then we’ll just have to send flowers to the funeral.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I grumbled.
Hades entered and closed the doors behind him, shaking his head. Remiel hadn’t shown, despite our invitation. Fine with me. We’d just have to make this work without him.
As Hades took his seat, I cleared my throat and stood. “Thank you, everyone, for coming. I know the invitations weren’t clear about what you were coming here to discuss. That was on purpose. If you knew, I figured you’d make excuses not to show up and talk to each other, like you’ve been doing for centuries. It’s actually kind of ridiculous. When was the last time everyone was in the same room?”
They all exchanged glances before quickly turning away. At that moment, the rivalries and factions in the room were clear. Very few, if any, of them got along well enough to come to an agreement. They’d been avoiding each other rather than working out their problems because a cold war was easier than understanding.
I sighed. “That long, huh? Well, that’s going to change. At least that’s my hope. I’ve been the Pale Horseman for a while now. I know I’ve screwed up a lot along the way, but I can’t help but think some of the problems I ran into could’ve been avoided if you guys had just started talking to each other rather than operating independently. You’re gods. Yeah, you’re all from different pantheons with different traditions and responsibilities, but you’re all essentially charged with the same thing: looking after the dead, ensuring the processing of souls, and the flow of them down the river. Does anyone disagree with that assessment?”
Osiris raised his hand.
“You’re still part of the same system,” I said. “Just because you sort souls and get them first, doesn’t exclude you from needing to talk to the others.”
His hand went down slowly, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat before staring at his hands.
Hel leaned on her fist. “I don’t see why anything needs to change. We’ve all been functioning as normal, and I haven’t had any problems, at least not when nosy Horsemen didn’t come poking around.”
“When was the last time fresh souls came to you for processing, Hel?” I asked.
She sat up and blinked. “It’s been…a while.”
“Yet Osiris is overburdened.” I gestured to the Egyptian god. “And She’ol gets more than its fair share of souls.”
“Which is why I find it interesting no one from there is at this table.” Nergal made a fist. “I can guess why we’re here, at least in part, and if you want to open those negotiations, a delegate from She’ol simply must be here.”
“Who would you have me invite?” Hades leaned forward. “She’ol is in the throes of a civil war.”
“Come, now,” said Yama. “We all know Remiel has won. Like
it or not, an invitation should have been extended.”
Hades shrugged. “I sent an invite. He didn’t show. I can’t force the issue.”
“I can,” I said, rising. “I will if I have to.”
I wasn’t looking forward to having to go there and drag Remiel to the meeting. It probably wouldn’t go well for me, and it would seriously slow down my progress, but maybe a strongly worded letter would do?
“What are you going to do?” Ereshkegal smirked. “Drag him to the table by his ear, Horseman? Brave of you.”
“You must have some way of communicating with each other. Like a telephone, except for between kingdoms in Hell. A Hellephone?”
Osiris groaned and slapped his face.
“There is the mirror,” Hades volunteered. “It used to be used to send messages between kingdoms. There’s no guarantee that anyone is on the other side listening, however.”
“By all accounts, Remiel is a traditionalist,” said Yama. “Tradition dictates that the mirror be guarded. He will have someone manning it.”
“And if he doesn’t, no harm done,” I said. “We have to do everything we can to bring them here to negotiate. Everyone has to come to an agreement, Hades.”
He sighed and tapped his fingers on the table. “Very well. I will have the mirror brought in, but I must warn you. Using it isn’t without its perils. There is no way to ensure the message won’t be intercepted by other parties.”
“What other parties?” Hel asked. “Everyone is here.”
“Not everyone.” Hades leveled his gaze at me, and I understood the implication.
The Nightlands could hear anything we said through the mirror. I had to be careful what I let slip.
Hades spoke to one of his servants who rushed away and returned a few minutes later, wheeling a big cart. The mirror sat on the cart, covered by a white sheet. It had to be at least five feet high and three feet wide, sitting on a stand that looked like it weighed hundreds of pounds. Hades lifted it from the cart, sheet and all, without breaking a sweat and placed it on the floor before carefully removing the sheet.
