Storm Gods

by G. Bailey

  “It’s a little funny,” Storm replies.

  I roll my eyes and return my attention to Kit. “Take your time,” I tell the goblin. “I know it’s far away.”

  This will mark the first time I’m instructing Kit to teleport me somewhere, and it feels a little bit like an imposition. For a while, the goblin just stares at me with his big, perceptive eyes, and I wonder if he even wants to help us. I’ve always relied on him to just know what I need, but he is still young. The last thing I want to do is order him around, especially when he was the one who came to me; the fact that goblins choose their patron goddesses isn’t lost on me.

  A few seconds pass, and then a few more, and I feel my stomach sink when Kit just continues to stare me down. Maybe I jumped the gun a little bit, here. Exchanging a worried glance with Storm, I swallow hard. “Is he okay?” Ruby asks uncertainly.

  “He’s fine,” I reply. “I just don’t know if he’s going to be able to port us after all.” Turning back to Storm, I continue, “We might need another plan. Is there a way to make a discreet tornado?”

  The weather god raises his eyebrows. “It’s a tornado, little one. Discretion is impossible.”

  Great. Trying not to let my disappointment show, I lift Kit up so that he’s eye level with me. “You can do it,” I tell him, aware of how ridiculous I must look, but not caring. “Just like when you brought the guys to the island. Same thing.” After a few more seconds of waiting, I finally sigh, running a hand through my hair. “It’s okay,” I say, doing my best to hide my disappointment. “If you can’t do it, we’ll find some other way to…”

  But my voice trails off as Kit rises to his full height, which is still not very tall, his eyes drifting closed. A little furrow of concentration appears on his forehead as he extends his tiny arms, shaking with the effort of summoning his magic. I look at Storm, shocked, but don’t dare say anything as the tiny goblin continues to cast the portal spell. I’ve never really gotten a good look at Kit while he’s using magic—I’m so used to the fecker doing nothing but biting and causing trouble—and I’m surprised by how much work clearly goes into it. Presumably, it will come easier once he’s fully matured, although when or how that will happen, I have no idea.

  I’m only just now realising how little I know about the world.

  Kit continues to work, straining with the effort, and before our eyes, the air above the sidewalk begins to shift and shimmer, like light refracting through water. The distortions continue to increase, the frequency of the vibrations speeding up, and then a small black spot appears in the middle, like a hole in the universe. Slowly it expands, widening until it’s the size of a fully-grown person, a gaping maw waiting for us to step inside. I steal a panicked glance around the neighbourhood; this will be hard to explain to innocent passersby, but there’s no one around. It’s nice to catch a break once in a while, I think dryly, before turning to Storm and giving him a brisk nod. He doesn’t need telling twice, stepping into the portal without so much as a second thought.

  “Karma?” Ruby asks, sounding a little worried.

  I give her hand a squeeze. “It’s all right, Ruby. I’m right here. Let’s go find your mum, okay?”

  She nods, and without another word we step forward and into the portal.

  I’ll never get used to the sensation of teleporting, that strange exhaustion that I feel when I reach the other side. Like clockwork, we’ve emerged on the cobblestone streets of the small town where we first met Emerald. We’re in an alleyway between two buildings, the townspeople either not seeing us or simply not caring. “We did it,” I say, relieved. “Kit, you beautiful bastard!” I grin down at the goblin, but my eyes go wide the moment I see him; his starry eyes have gone dull, and he’s unsteady on his feet. “Are you okay?” I ask, panic rising in my voice. Kit doesn’t even bite me like he usually does; instead, he sits down hard in my hands, unable to summon the energy to even go hide in my hair. “Kit, what’s wrong?” I ask, but the goblin doesn’t respond, his head dropping onto his chest and his eyes closing. A second later, he collapses into my open hands, his breathing slow and laboured.

  “What’s wrong with him?” asks Ruby.

  “I don’t know,” I reply, my voice shaking. I prod at the goblin gently, murmuring his name a couple times, but he doesn’t even react. If it weren’t for the shallow movements of his chest, I might mistake him for dead. Panicking, I look at Storm. “Did we push him too hard?”

  Storm shakes his head, at a loss. “I don’t know. I’ve never spent much time with goblins.” I swallow hard, fighting back tears. Losing Hugo was bad enough. After that, losing Kit feels damn near unthinkable. I feel a gentle hand on my arm and look to see the weather god watching me. “We need to find Emerald,” he says. “Carry Kit; I can port us home.”

  “Is he sick?” I ask, the fear making my voice shake.

  Storm can only shake his head. “I wish I knew. Maybe he’s just resting.” Gently, he takes my free hand in his. “Come on. It shouldn’t be far from here.”

  Feeling numb, I allow him to pull me in the direction of the main road. The portal has closed behind us now, and the only evidence that remains of our transport is the fact that Kit is lying comatose in my hands. Struggling to fight off the ball of worry that’s fallen over me, I tuck the little goblin into my bag, giving him one last concerned look as we make our way down to the city centre. It feels strange to be back here, foreign like our last visit was a lifetime ago. It’s hard to believe it was so recent; so much has changed since then. Ruby remains quiet as we walk, almost sombre in her attitude, and my heart goes out to her. She’s already learned not to be optimistic, and she’s only a child. This is what the higher gods have done to us.

  Trying not to think about Kit, I follow Storm’s lead; I can’t remember where we went last time, but he seems to, and before long we’re approaching a familiar alleyway. The brick wall still looks deceptively like a dead end, except this time I’m not worried as I watch Storm disappear through the shimmering barrier. Exchanging a look with Ruby, I nod and lead her through. There’s that same strange rush, and then we’re emerging on the other side. The magical market is much like it was last time, although some of the stalls seem to have rotated. The temptation of the products is dulled by my mental state, though, and I doggedly make a beeline for the stairs leading up to the overhead apartments, with Storm and Ruby at my sides. When we arrive at Emerald’s door, I feel a surge of nervousness as I knock once and then twice.

  There’s the sound of movement on the other side, and then the familiar blonde woman pokes her head through. She opens her mouth to speak to me and Storm, but before she can say anything, her eyes land on Ruby, and then everything is happening at once. She swoops in, scooping the girl up before I have a chance to react, and she’s crying as she says her daughter’s name again and again. “Oh my god,” she murmurs, stroking Ruby’s hair and squeezing her against her chest. “Oh my god, Ruby. It’s you. You’re back.”

  “It’s okay, mum,” Ruby assures her. “It’s me. Karma saved me.”

  “Where was she?” Emerald asks us, still not letting go of her daughter.

  “Neritous had her,” I reply grimly. “He was trying to use his children as lab rats.” Seeing the panic on her face, I hasten to add, “He didn’t do anything to Ruby, though. We made it out in time.”

  “Thank the gods,” Emerald murmurs. “I have no idea how to repay you.”

  “You don’t have to,” I tell her. “She’s my half-sister. I’m just glad I was able to bring her back.”

  “You can’t let Neritous get away with this,” Emerald says, her eyes flashing. “Ruby was alive this whole time, which means Jade was innocent. He framed her.”

  “I know,” I reply, voice hard. “But this will at least clear her name. It’s the least we can do.” Pressing my lips into a thin line, I add, “I’m going to make Neritous pay for this. For everything.”

  “Good,” is all Emerald says. Finally pulling away from
Ruby, she kneels down to look her in the eyes. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too, mum,” Ruby replies.

  Glancing up at me and Storm, Emerald says, “I don’t have much inside, but you’re welcome to—”

  “No need,” I say, holding up a hand. “We have to get going. It’s risky enough being away from home as it is.”

  “Thank you for everything, Karma,” Ruby says, turning to me.

  I lean down to pull her into a hug. “You’re welcome,” I reply. “Let’s stay in touch, yeah?”

  “Absolutely,” Ruby says, the relief in her voice obvious.

  The goodbyes are short and sweet, which seems appropriate. They need time together, and Kit needs to be examined. I can’t help but tear up a little at having to leave Ruby, and as Storm and I walk away from the apartment, I wonder if I really will ever see her again.

  Chapter 17

  I stare down at the sleeping goblin, overcome with worry, but I seem to have run out of tears over the past few days. I’ve placed Kit in a shoebox, along with a decent amount of bedding, and although he’s still breathing, he remains comatose. I’ve done everything I can think of to wake him up, consulting everyone in the house as I try to figure out what’s wrong with him, but nothing is working. If times were normal, we could track down someone specialising in supernatural ailments, but just bringing Ruby back was a big risk, and besides, we don’t have time. Tomorrow is the day that, for better or worse, we’re going to London to face off against the higher gods. I’ve known it was coming, obviously, but that doesn’t make the reality of it any more bearable, especially when our method of transportation is down for the count. Storm did an admirable job bringing us back from Emerald’s place, but arriving in London via tornado isn’t the best way of keeping a low profile. Still, what choice do we have?

  The idea that Kit might have overexerted himself at my command fills me with guilt, and I don’t know what I’m going to do if he doesn’t pull through. I don’t think I can handle having any more blood on my hands. It’s just too painful.

  Letting out a long breath, I give the goblin a gentle nudge, but he doesn’t stir. The shallow movements of his chest are the only thing proving that he’s even still alive. I took the liberty of leaving some food upstairs with him in case he wakes up, but I’m losing confidence. Whatever optimism I once had has gone by the wayside over the past few weeks, and when I look at myself in the mirror, I hardly even recognise the person looking back at me.

  And it all comes down to Neritous.

  I can feel my nails digging into my palms as I clench my hands into fists, staring down at Kit glumly while he continues to sleep. There’s nothing for it now, though; it’s out of my hands at this point. Gently, I set the box down on the floor beside my bed, so that if he comes to, he’ll have easy access to his hidey hole. Just straightening back up leaves me feeling immensely tired, like an old woman. How ironic, I think bitterly. Immortal, but this whole thing has still managed to age me. I can hear the others downstairs, strategizing, and I know I should join them. What allies Seth still has will be pouring into the city right now, and Neritous isn’t going to let them slip past his defences. I’m not under any illusions that there won’t be a battle, and the prospect of losing people is looking less and less like a possibility and more and more like an inevitability. It hurts, but there’s no way around it: we have to end this, one way or another.

  I’m overcome by a sudden wave of exhaustion, and I drop heavily to a seat on my bed, bowing my head to rest in my hands and closing my eyes for a long moment. I’m so caught up in my own thoughts that I barely even register the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and when there’s a knock at the door, it makes me jump. “Come in,” I say, forcing myself to sound peppier than I feel.

  The door opens slowly, revealing mum’s face. Her expression is stoic and unreadable, but it’s a relief to see that her eyes aren’t bloodshot from crying currently. The level of her grief has never been lost on me. “Hey,” I say, a little surprised to see her.

  “Hi,” she replies, lingering in the doorway. She looks fidgety and unsure of herself. “How is Kit?” she asks.

  “The same,” I answer. “He won’t wake up, he won’t eat, he won’t respond. At this rate I’m starting to wonder if—” But the words catch in my throat, the possibility too sad to imagine.

  “He’ll come around,” mum says, but I can see the uncertainty in her expression. “Just give him time.”

  “Yeah,” I reply listlessly. “Maybe.”

  There’s another long pause. “Do you mind if I come sit with you?” mum asks tentatively.

  “Um, no. Of course not. Feel free.” I’m a little taken aback; this will be the first time she’s come to talk to me of her own accord since Hugo’s death, her days usually spent ruminating or crying. I know she needs space, and I’m not going to be the one to tell her how to mourn, especially when I’m at the heart of this whole thing. My entire family has been fighting Neritous since I was born, knowingly or not, and he has taken so much from my family and me. It might have been Xur who killed my mother and my extended family, but it was because of Neritous. But still, if I had never been born, my family wouldn’t be suffering this way, so it still feels like my fault.

  Mum slowly closes the door behind her, taking a few slow steps into the room, her arms wrapped around her small frame in a sort of hug. Wordlessly, she moves to sit down next to me, and I scoot over to make room. Part of me wants to ask why she’s here, but I don’t. Instead, we just sit in silence for a few moments, each lost in her own thoughts. “Do you remember your last birthday?” mum asks suddenly, turning to look at me. “When I brought you that lightning charm?”

  “Yeah,” I reply, straightening up. “You brought me breakfast in bed. Peanut butter. And gave me a surprise charm that would help boost the powers inside of me.” I snort, shaking my head. “I didn’t take it seriously then.” Meeting her gaze, I add solemnly, “I won’t be making that mistake again.”

  Mum swallows. “Karma…” Her voice trails off, and she breaks eye contact, looking like she’s searching for the right words. “I don’t want you to think you’re responsible for any of this.”

  Strangely, that just makes me want to cry again. “People keep telling me that,” I say glumly. “I know you’re my mum, and I know you love me, but you don’t need to act like I’m innocent.”

  Mum sucks in a ragged breath. “I’ve been thinking about your birthday a lot, you know,” she tells me, making my brow furrow. “About when I gave you that charm. In that moment, I came close to telling you the truth, about everything. Neritous, your biological mother, your abilities…” She shakes her head. “But I took the easy way out. I thought letting you learn for yourself would be an easier transition. If I had known it would lead to…any of this, I wouldn’t have done it.”

  “Mum…” I move closer to her. This is the first I’m hearing of someone else feeling guilty for their involvement in all this. “You did the best you could,” I tell her. “Not just with my birthday, with all of it. You raised me. You loved me like I was your own daughter. How could you ever blame yourself for what happened?”

  Mum sighs, giving me a smile without much mirth in it. “I guess we’re in the same boat then, huh? Regrets.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “Lots of regrets.”

  She turns to me suddenly, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You need to know that I don’t regret taking you in, Karma. Not for a moment—not for a damn instant.” The language startles me, and the sudden conviction in her eyes warms me a little somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach. “I may not have given birth to you, but you are my daughter. And I could never fault you for any of this.”

  “But—” I protest.

  Mum holds up a hand. It’s clear that she’s struggling to keep a hold on her emotions. “If you’re going to blame anyone,” she tells me, “blame Neritous. Blame the higher gods, and their corruption, and their prison. You’re as much of a victim in
this as anyone else. But you’re also a survivor, and I…” She swallows hard, blinking back tears and refusing to let me look away. “I couldn’t be prouder of the woman you’ve become, Karma. I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”

  “Mum…” Trembling a little, I reach over and hug her, more tightly than I’ve ever done in my life. She seems to relax a little, stroking my hair like she did when I was a little girl.

  It’s not until we break apart that she says anything else, and the next words out of her mouth hit me hard. “Maria would have been proud of you, too,” she says, her voice soft and sincere.

  I blink, the corner of my mouth twitching in a sceptical half-smile. “You think so?”

  Mum chuckles, putting an arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer. “I know so. She didn’t anticipate any of this, either. She planned on raising you, you know, her own way. I did the best that I could to give you a good life, the only way I knew how.”

  “You did a great job,” I tell her. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

  Mum doesn’t reply right away, and briefly I wonder if I said the wrong thing. “You’re so much like her,” she murmurs, not looking at me, and I’m not sure if she’s speaking more to me or to herself. “So much so that sometimes it hurt to look at you in the beginning. It was like looking at a carbon copy of Maria.”

  “Well,” I say, hoping to lighten the mood, “red hair and green eyes isn’t exactly a common combo.”

  “Not just in looks,” mum says, shaking her head. “In the way you see the world. In your idealism. I know that you’re tough, and that you usually don’t let things get to you—chalk it up to having all male siblings, I suppose—but you’ve never once let the world of the gods make you cynical. Maria was the same way: funny, charming, powerful. Always seeing the best in people.”