Winter of the Gods

by Jordanna Max Brodsky

  The Pater’s voice boomed out above the music. “Diana believes she created the stars themselves, but instead, the stars created her. For we are all dust, birthed at the dawn of time, forged in the furnace of the heavens, fused together by the power of the universe. There is only one God, and He kindled that first spark of energy that started it all. From Him came the planets, the sun, the galaxies themselves, the spheres spinning in perfect harmony, dancing to the celestial music.”

  As the symphony moved to a climax of blaring brass and pounding timpani, the stars spun in fast forward. The moon rose and set, then the sky lightened once more as the sun made its ascent. With the planetarium bathed in light, Theo could clearly see the tableau before him. Selene stood face to face with the Pater. Paul’s body lay at her feet, his chest heaving.

  “Let my brother go as you promised. Now,” she said, her face expressionless. “Or I will not go willingly.”

  “Take the Pretender down to the street,” the Pater told the Heliodromi. Then he looked back at Selene. “You know he won’t escape us for long.”

  She nodded stonily. All she could give her twin now was time. Theo knew that the wounds on Paul’s back would heal. But it would be too late for Selene.

  As the Heliodromi dragged Paul’s limp body out of sight, the sun plunged once more below the horizon, and Theo could barely make out his lover’s face in the gloaming, but her voice was calm as she said, “Do it now. While I still desire it.”

  Theo tried to shout, but the gag in his mouth muffled his words. He stomped on one guard’s foot and swung an elbow into the gut of another, but they held him fast. The Pater lifted his sickle, ready for his harvest. The Hyaena took a step forward as if she would protest, and Theo felt a moment of hope—but then she halted, her masked face unreadable.

  “As the sun rises and sets, so will our God rise again,” the Pater intoned, tilting his blade so its curved edge caught the starlight. “For He is the true sun.”

  Theo twisted in his guards’ grip, nearly breaking free. The Leo Primus, a heavyset man with the hint of a double chin beneath his lion mask, rushed toward him. He pressed the tines of Poseidon’s trident into the back of Theo’s neck. “Keep struggling and you’ll die,” he said, his Queens accent identifying him as the doughboy cop who’d arrested Selene at Rockefeller Center. “You’ll be no help to her then.”

  The Pater gestured for Selene to open her leather jacket and the flannel shirt underneath. Only a thin tank top stood between her heart and his blade. She closed her eyes and tilted her face heavenward.

  The light show had cycled back to dawn. The moon set, the stars faded, and the sun rose to turn the sky from black to azure.

  “Ashes to ashes,” chanted the Pater. “Dust to dust. Stars to stars.” He brought the sickle arcing toward her chest. Theo forced himself to keep his eyes open, to watch his love leave the world.

  And then, as if to spare him the sight, the room plunged into darkness. The soaring classical music stopped abruptly. In its place, a heavy metal guitar riff blared through the speakers, drowning out the astonished cries of the syndexioi.

  In the dim blue light emanating from the control booth, Theo saw Gabriela’s head bent over the soundboard. Behind her, the Leo Secundus stood thrashing in Flint’s grip. Philippe pierced the man’s heart with a tiny dart. Suddenly, the ceiling rained stars, as if the room itself sped through space, galaxies zipping by on either side. The effect was dizzying.

  In the starlight, Theo watched Flint rush forward, titanium leg braces steadying his stride and a massive hammer clutched in two hands. Philippe followed behind with his small bow raised. Theo cheered through his gag as Dash darted forward from a side entrance, a gun in each hand and the wings on his golden cap streaming behind him.

  Theo had to help, but the trident in his neck promised certain death if he turned in any direction. He bent forward at the waist instead, kicking back at the pudgy Leo Primus while swinging his bound hands into the kneecaps of his other guard. Both men stumbled away from him. He lunged forward, unarmed, thinking only of Selene, when the trident’s handle smacked him on the skull and sent him to his knees. He watched the battle unfold through blurred vision.

  The Corvus with the caduceus stepped away to block Dash’s charge. Dash fired, once from each gun, grazing the Corvus’s arm and shoulder. Despite his wounds, the syndexios raised his staff, swinging it forward as if to flick holy water off an aspergillum. Instead, the snakes themselves flew from the staff—no longer gilded figurines, but living, hissing serpents. They shot toward their former owner, tongues flickering.

  Dash jumped, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, as if willing his winged cap to lift him into flight—but whatever magic the syndexioi had managed to awaken lay deaf to the Messenger’s call. He fell back to earth with a muted thump—right into the snakes’ path. They slapped against his neck like a living noose. Eyes bulging, face flushed, he slowly sank to his knees.

  Theo watched in horror as the syndexioi advanced to block Flint as well. They moved in perfect, deliberate formation, as if they’d expected his arrival. Flint swung his massive hammer to keep them at bay. The Miles thrust Mars’s spear forward, but Flint knocked it aside with the head of his weapon, then struck the soldier hard in the ribs with its handle. Theo began to hope that the Smith might succeed where the Messenger had failed. But then the Perses holding Selene’s bow shot three golden arrows at once, and Flint foundered beneath the onslaught, his hammer rolling free as he clutched at the shafts in his stomach.

  Philippe cried out and aimed his small bow at his stepfather’s attacker. Flint gasped a warning—the Miles had turned Mars’s spear on the God of Love. Philippe turned to fire at the new threat, but not before the solider rammed the weapon through his side.

  The gods aren’t enough, Theo realized desperately. Come on, Flint, please tell me you called Hansen like you promised you would, he begged silently. The syndexioi might wield weapons like gods, but he doubted they could heal like them: If a SWAT team showed up with machine guns, they’d fall like any other mortal men.

  Selene rushed toward her fallen kin, but a syndexios stepped in front of her. She kicked him soundly in the groin and kept running.

  Then a golden arrow from her own bow sliced into her back and sent her sprawling across the floor.

  Theo struggled to his feet, trying once more to throw off his captors, but the Leo jammed the trident’s tines against his Adam’s apple, growling to his comrades, “I know the plan is to capture the Pretenders alive, but surely I’m allowed to kill this prick?”

  “I’ll take him,” a woman said from behind them. The Leo turned around, dragging Theo with him.

  The Hyaena spoke again, her voice muffled by the grinning leather mask. “The Pater told me to remove the professor before he causes any more trouble.”

  “You?” the Leo scoffed. “He’s stronger than he looks. You’re just an old woman.”

  The Hyaena reached into her robes and pulled out a Glock. “If he tries anything, I’ll shoot him.”

  When the other syndexioi looked at one another doubtfully, she asked, “You would disobey the Pater’s instructions? Go help your comrades with the Pretenders. This man is the least of your worries.” She raised the gun and pressed it against Theo’s temple.

  As she led him away, Theo watched the Heliodromus Primus throw a small golden net over Dash, Philippe, and Flint. The mesh expanded to cover all three Athanatoi, falling in heavy folds to the ground. They groaned and bent beneath its weight, their flesh red where it pressed against them.

  Selene lay unmoving on the other side of the clearing, an inky puddle forming around the arrow shaft in her back.

  “Don’t even think about trying to run back to your girlfriend,” the Hyaena growled, pressing the barrel of the gun more firmly against his head.

  She led him out of the planetarium, down an escalator, and into the gift shop.

  “It’s all over for you,” she said, digging in the pocket of her
robe. Theo wondered what new weapon she’d produce. Something to kill me quietly, he decided with surprising calmness.

  Gabi’s curly head popped up from behind the cashier’s desk.

  “Oh, thank God!” She ran toward Theo. “She got you out!”

  The Hyaena pulled the key to his handcuffs from her pocket.

  Gabi stepped between them and ripped the gag from his mouth, talking all the while. “She dragged me out of the planetarium and told me to hide, and then I told her she had to help you get out too. Wait, where are you going?” she begged as he moved toward the escalator.

  “Selene’s still in there!” He turned to the Hyaena. “Unlock the cuffs.”

  The woman folded her fingers around the key. At the edge of her mask, her jaw clenched. “Not if you’re going back in. She’s not your concern.”

  “Then I’ll go back in cuffed. I’ll bash your Pater two-fisted if I have to.” He took another step toward the escalator. He didn’t see her swing the butt of her gun at his head, but he crumpled beneath the blow, falling against a metal shelf full of astronomy books.

  “Hey!” he heard Gabi protest. Before he could regain his balance, the Hyaena had produced a pair of plastic flex cuffs and secured his metal restraints to the side of the bookshelf.

  “I can’t let you do that, Professor,” she growled in his ear.

  Then, with the smell of cigarettes on her breath, Theo finally recognized her voice.

  Chapter 36

  SUNBEAM

  Theo’s first thought was one of relief. The police had made shown up after all. “Nice disguise, but where’s the SWAT team?” He could see Geraldine Hansen’s eyes through the holes in her hyena mask. He wondered how he hadn’t recognized her steely gaze before.

  She took a step backward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Theo wondered whether the blow to his head had messed with his brain; he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You got Flint’s message, right?”

  “Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

  He heard Gabi give an impatient grunt. “Okay, now I’m really lost,” she said. “Who the fuck are you?”

  And with that, she ripped the mask from the Hyaena’s face.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Ms. Jimenez.” The police captain turned her gun reluctantly on Theo’s best friend. Gabi’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to scream for help, but the captain shook her head warningly. She gestured with her chin for Gabi to stand facing Theo, then used another plastic restraint to cuff her hands lower on the bookshelf.

  “Oh, you are so in for it,” Gabi hissed over her shoulder at the cop. “You’re getting a call from the ACLU, the Lambda Legal Fund, and every goddamn lawyer I know. This is police brutality, and the people of this city won’t stand for it.”

  Theo barely heard her. His reeling brain was finally putting the pieces together. Hansen wasn’t disguised as the Hyaena—she was the Hyaena. There would be no rescue. And worse still, Flint’s call to Hansen meant the Mithraists had known the gods would attack the planetarium. The Athanatoi never had a chance—Theo’d made sure of that.

  “What are you going to do?” he demanded over Gabi’s continued diatribe. “Kill us both?” He strained against the bookshelf, trying to rip free, but the restraints showed no sign of weakening. This is my fault, he thought desperately. And if I don’t get free, Selene and Gabi are both doomed.

  “I tried to save you.” Hansen’s voice sounded weary. “I wanted no more innocent blood on my hands. But I have a role to play, Schultz. And nothing can stand in the way of that. Now that you know who I am, I can’t let you go. If I turn you over to the others, they’ll surely torture you further before you die. Is that what you want? I can give you a clean death. That’s the only mercy I can spare.”

  “Wait, wait,” Gabriela interrupted, finally sounding uncertain. “I thought you were just going to rough us up. Unjustified incarceration maybe. But when you say death, you really mean … death?”

  “I don’t like this any more than you do, Ms. Jimenez.”

  “Oh, really. Then why don’t we just switch places, huh? Give me the gun and the badge.”

  “And what about Selene?” Theo interjected. “You’re going to stand by and let them kill her, too? You’re her friend.”

  “She stopped being my friend the moment I realized who she really was,” Hansen retorted. “Her death is needed for the resurrection. There’s nothing I can do about it, even if I wanted to.”

  “The resurrection? Of Mithras? Why on earth would you care?”

  She shook her head. “Mithras isn’t who you think he is.”

  “Goddammit! You all keep saying that! I get it. He’s more than a Persian god, he’s the deity who allows you to ascend through the celestial spheres to heaven. Or at least a whole bunch of Roman soldiers two thousand years ago thought he did. But there are no celestial spheres! Let’s take a tour of the museum, shall we, if you need a refresher course in heliocentrism.”

  “We were tasked, don’t you understand? To bring Death to the Deathless Ones and return our God in their place. The Host himself visited our founder to give him the command.”

  “The Host?” I thought that was the name of the cult … now it’s a man?

  Hansen scowled at him. “I can see the wheels turning in your head, Schultz. You think you can figure this out. But this is a deeper mystery than even you can solve. You would need a lifetime to uncover our secrets. And I’m afraid yours is just about up. I have to get back in there.” Her smile faded. She leveled her gun at him. “I’m sorry, Professor. This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. I’ll give you a moment to say good-bye to your friend.”

  Before he could speak, Gabi craned her head to look up at him and flashed him a tense smile. “Well, Theo-doreable, I guess this is it.” He could feel her heartbeat, fast as a bird’s, where his bound hands pressed against her chest. Her own hands were trapped somewhere near his belt. “If we die, at least we die in each other’s arms, sort of.”

  “Gabi—”

  “You know, this is quite the compromising position. Good thing I always carry protection, just like you told me to,” she continued, her trembling voice belying her saucy wink. She slowly turned her eyes downward to her own chest.

  “Glad to know that even at a moment like this, your mind’s in the gutter,” he said, slipping his hand beneath her jacket. Gabi’s eyes widened as his fingers squeezed past her breast to brush against the plastic canister in her inside pocket.

  Hansen cocked the gun.

  Gabi ducked. Theo yanked the pepper spray from her chest, aimed it at the captain, and squeezed the trigger. She screamed in agony and fired at the same time, but he’d already dragged Gabi down the pole of the bookshelf and out of harm’s way.

  Hansen was too well trained to shoot again, not while blind. She cursed and put a hand to her streaming eyes.

  Theo wished he had Selene’s skills. A well-placed kick to Hansen’s right hand would’ve had the cop’s gun flying free. But before he could even think about how to manage that while bound to the bookcase, Hansen stumbled back out of his reach. She groped blindly and staggered to the opposite side of the shelves. Selene might never have taught Theo her combat skills, but he’d learned from her example to always use all the resources at hand.

  “Come on, Gabi,” he urged, “you said you were working out, right?” They threw their weight against the bookshelf. To his utter shock, it tipped over, dragging them with it, and crashed on top of the captain, knocking her unconscious.

  Theo whooped.

  “Nice work, chico, but now we’re trapped, too,” Gabi grumbled. They lay awkwardly on top of the bookcase, still cuffed to the metal rod.

  “I didn’t come this far to wind up lying here when the cops finally do show up. By then, it’ll be too late. Selene will already be dead.”

  “You going to tell me what the hell’s going on?”

  “You going to help me ge
t out of here?”

  They knocked each shelf of the bookcase loose with an awkward combination of their knees and feet until they could slip the plastic restraints off the edge of the pole. They dug through Hansen’s pocket for the key to Theo’s handcuffs and used a pair of scissors from the cashier’s desk to cut Gabi’s restraints. Throughout it all, the cop lay motionless. Gabi pressed a finger to Hansen’s neck, then picked up the fallen gun, staring at it distastefully. “She’s still alive. Do you think we should … I don’t know, shoot her in the foot to make sure she can’t come after us?”

  “Leave her alone. She’s just a pawn.”

  “Wow. You’re the most naive guy ever, you know that? Do you really have to see the good in everybody? She just tried to kill us.”

  “You don’t cut off the tail of the snake, you go for the head. Now give me that—I’ve got to go get Selene.” He held out his hand for the Glock.

  “I almost got killed, too,” Gabi insisted, holding it out of his reach. “You owe me an explanation.”

  “You wouldn’t believe it. And there isn’t time. Now, Gabi.”

  “You don’t know how to shoot it.”

  “And you do?” He lunged for the gun, but she took a step back, her face growing hot.

  “It’s embarrassing. You remember when I was doing that dig out on the Navajo reservation …”

  “I do not have time for your stories right now.”

  Her words rushed out in a single breath. “Let’s just say I had a brief fling with a Navajo medicine woman, and she taught me how to shoot jackrabbits, and I’m not proud of it, but I happened to be really good.”

  “Jackrabbits don’t shoot back!”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Selene regained consciousness with a gasp of pain. It felt like someone had just ripped her spine from her back. She twisted far enough to see the Pater standing above her holding her gold arrow in his hand. Blood dripped from its tip onto her cheek. She tried to wipe it away, but found she couldn’t move her right arm.