by Amy Sumida
Step two went smoothly as well; Torrent tracked the storm without a problem. The satellite focused on the gathering clouds easily, and we watched the darkening mass make its way to shore, and then up the coast with unnatural speed. The lightning flashes came more frequently, and then the storm settled into place. We had a location; Toronto, Canada.
It was time for step three.
We traced to Toronto, emerging under glamours to hide our sudden appearance. We chose High Park—a huge public park just a little ways in from the coast—to step out of the Aether into. We needn't have worried about being spotted. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the day in Toronto, the park was empty. Sheets of frigid rain were slashing down like executioner's blades, hitting the earth with a ferocity that sent waves of water splashing upward in a defiance of gravity. I held my hand over my eyes and tried to peer up into the storm, but I couldn't see that stupid tipi. It was as dark as midnight; the storm clouds blocking the sun entirely. But lightning flared consistently, illuminating the park in rapid strobes like a nightclub. A flash of red caught my eye, and I jerked my head to the right, to see a massive maple leaf, formed of flowers, in the center of a round garden. The poor flowers were taking a vicious beating. I doubted there would be many petals left in the morning.
Anyone with a smidgen of sense, and the ability to do so, had taken cover. We were the only fools standing out in the open, getting pummeled by the unnatural weather. But we kept at it, staring up into the storm, hoping for a glimpse of its creator, despite the fact that we were sopping wet and couldn't see anything past the rain.
“I'm going up to take a look!” I shouted over the rumble of thunder.
“Then I'm going with you,” Azrael shouted back.
“I will go as well,” Horus offered.
“No,” Thor said immediately. “The storm is too strong for your falcon form; you'll be torn from the sky, Horus!”
Horus glowered at Thor, but his expression quickly shifted into grudging agreement. He was too smart to let pride force him into doing something dumb. During their short conversation, I shifted into my half-dragon form; leathery wings sprouted from my back, golden scales lifted over my skin, my hands and feet turned into clawed versions of themselves, and a barbed tail twitched out behind me. Azrael's preparation was much faster. He simply spread his ebony wings.
We both leapt into the air without another word to our friends. It was difficult to launch and even harder to stay airborne—what with the pelting rain and vicious wind—but we managed to make it into the eye of the storm, where it was eerily calm. I don't know why they call the peace within storms 'the eye.' As I looked across the roughly oval expanse—lightning sparking in the pulsing darkness surrounding us—all I could think was that it resembled a heart more than an eye. The source of life within a body; an electrical hub pushing out the rain of its blood. It was an empty heart, and a cold one, but a heart nonetheless. No, wait; it wasn't empty at all.
There was a monster inside this heart.
I should have been prepared for this. Hadn't Torrent said something about Iya often being formless or faceless? But I wasn't prepared for the thing that oozed out of the pretty tipi hovering in the storm's heart. And neither was Azrael.
“What the actual fuck is that?” Azrael asked.
“I have no clue.”
I've seen many monsters. Some were hidden beneath beauty, and some were hiding beauty inside their hideous forms. I had learned not to judge by appearance alone, but the sight of this thing instantly made my skin crawl, and my first reaction was to flee. I had to force myself to stay steady where I was and face the oncoming abomination.
Iya was both formless and faceless in his current shape. He moved like cloud or mist, but condensed randomly within the dark shadows, becoming hideous beings with ridiculously long claws and clicking teeth, then screaming faces with twisted expressions, and finally, menacing beasts that snarled and roared as they bled oily blackness. It was insanity taken form, and my heart raced in protest against witnessing it.
“Iya!” I shouted, and the morphing monster paused. “If you continue down this path, you could destroy the Earth entirely, and then the God Realm would fall as well. Is that really what you want?”
“What I want?” The air around me rumbled with the storm monster's voice. “What I want is for all of you to suffer!”
“You will suffer along with us, you fool!” Azrael called out.
“So be it,” Iya growled. “You think that I don't know who you are, Godhunter?” Iya rolled and boiled closer to Az and me. “You think that I can't smell the mix of your blood and magic? You think that I can't see your twisted shape?”
“That's rich,” I huffed. “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Yes; I am monstrous too,” Iya's voice settled into a low rumble as his shifting body bubbled before me like the surface. “And so was my brother. But that is what this world needs; monsters. Fear to keep the humans in line; to quell their own monstrosities. But you thought you knew better, and you murdered Iktomi! You killed my brother for being true to his nature and doing exactly what the humans had made him to do.”
“Iktomi went beyond fear or even monstrosity,” I snarled. “And the myths make him out to be a trickster, but also a hero, so don't give me any shit about humans getting what they asked for. Iktomi wasn't a hero, and he was far beyond being a prankster. He was an evil, murdering bastard, and I wish I had been the one to kill him.”
“Vervain,” Azrael hissed.
No; it wasn't my most diplomatic speech, but this guy was pissing me off.
“I have very few friends, Godhunter,” Iya boomed. “And my brother was one of them.”
“I'm sorry your brother is dead,” I tried to repair the conversation, even though I knew it was beyond salvation. “But are you truly willing to kill everyone because you're mad at me? What about your mother, and your... er... son?”
“I'll stop before the Earth is destroyed,” he huffed as if it were obvious. “All I want is enough power to kill you and the Wakan Tanka.”
“The waka what?” I asked.
Azrael groaned.
“The Lakota Pantheon,” Iya hissed as his cloudy form shifted into a giant scorpion with a sword for a tail. It slashed through the air as if trying to make his point. “Do you know what my father said to me when I asked him for vengeance?”
“Well, how the fuck would I know that?” I huffed.
Iya made a sound that was very close to a chuckle.
“He said that Iktomi made his own choices, and his evil led to his demise,” Iya snapped. “He said that I shouldn't blame the tool Fate employed, only Fate itself.”
“Did he just call me a tool?” I asked Azrael, who rolled his eyes.
“That's some shamanic bullshit!” Iya shouted, and thunder echoed his words. “He's just afraid to go up against the Godhunter. But I'm not. I will collect my sacrifices, and then I shall come for you!”
I was beginning to get a sense that Iya had no intentions of engaging me right then. I glanced at Azrael, and he nodded. Iya had tipped his hand and let me see his lack of aces. He wasn't strong enough to fight me yet; which meant that now would be a good time for me to attack him.
I dove at Iya, aiming straight for the latest manifestation of his dark clouds; a cackling clown—damn; that guy was evil. My hands closed around a solid neck, and I tore into the flesh. Shrieking surrounded me, and blood coated my fingers, making my grip slippery. But then the solid flesh I held disappeared. Icy air whipped around me, turning to snow in seconds. I couldn't see past the white-out, and I couldn't hear anything but the screeching wind. My wings froze in moments, and I plummeted through the snowstorm within the heart of the monsoon.
As soon as I was free of the freezing winds, I heard Azrael calling to me. I looked up and saw the flash of his pale skin as he dove through the rain. The water, though cold, defrosted my wings, and I was able to catch the air before I dropped too far. But
I was still numb and could barely manage to move my wings, much less navigate the storm. The wind caught me and tossed me about until Azrael swept up behind me and grabbed my waist.
“Shift back!” He shouted over the raging wind. “I can't hold you like this.”
I transformed into my human form and instantly started to shiver. I was naked, wet, and bone-achingly cold. But I was also a dragon. I pulled upon my fire energy, and my body temperature rose sharply. Azrael sighed, nestling into my heat, as he floated us down to earth. He held me to him, even after we landed, draping his feathered wings around my nudity and keeping the worst of the rain off us.
The others had been battling the storm as best they could, but Thor's lightning and Mr. T's sunlight were doing little against the onslaught. Odin had even tried tossing his spear into the dark clouds, but this wasn't a battle that Gungnir could turn. All their efforts ceased as soon as they spotted us. The God Squad ran over to Azrael and me, questions obvious on their rain-drenched faces.
“He may have a machine in that tipi, but I wasn't able to get close enough to see it,” I said. “The bastard froze me.”
“Then maybe I need to try,” Odin growled.
“How?” I asked.
Odin's answer was to shift into griffin; a beast that was part eagle and part lion. The choice was a bit startling; not because of the creature itself, but because of its name. Griffin had been the name of the man whose body I had put Odin's soul into when I brought him back from the Void. Maybe Odin was trying to honor his body's last occupant.
The massive eagle head screeched, and the lion haunches hunched, preparing to leap into the air, when suddenly, a blinding light exploded from the center of the storm, flaring out across the sky. We all turned away, covering our eyes, and when we opened them again, the world was completely black. Screams, echoing crashes, blaring horns, and frightened shouts filled the city as the power grid that fueled it died.
Iya's words came back to me, and I knew he was out there right now, collecting the power from those unlucky humans who would fall victim to the blackout. Toronto may not be dependent on electricity in the same way as Vegas was, but it was a bustling city. In a city as large as this one, amid a population of people who relied on electricity to do everything from light their way to keep them warm, there would be suffering without it. From mayhem to murder, and everything in between, there were countless ways that the citizens of Toronto could die tonight.
And all those deaths were on me.
I clung to Azrael as we stared up into the storm together. Odin roared and started to launch himself into the air anyway, but the dark clouds condensed into a torpedo shape and shot away. It was far too quick for us to follow, and the damage had already been done.
“We're going to need some outside help on this,” Teharon murmured.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Teharon had been right; we needed help, and he knew just the people to contact.
The Wakan Tanka.
Several humans mistakenly believed that the Wakan Tanka was one being; the Great Spirit (a non-Lakota term, by the way). It was actually one of those interchangeable titles. It could be used to indicate the Creator God of the Lakota: Inyan—the first of their gods, who also happened to be Iktomi and Iya's father. But it could also represent the collection of Lakota gods as a whole. Lastly—and this was the true meaning of the term; what it meant to the gods themselves—it was the council of Lakota gods, led by the four great gods of the Lakota Pantheon: Inyan the Creator God, Maka the Earth Goddess, Skan the Sky God (also known as Nagi Tanka), and Wi the Sun God (yep, just like the game console). These four gods were who Teharon contacted. They agreed to hold a gathering of the Wakan Tanka and meet with the God Squad to discuss Iya. They assured us that Unk (Iya's mother) and her sons would not be in attendance.
I was leaving Lesya and her father home again while I went to the meeting. I intended to keep her out of my godhunting for as long as possible, and Kirill didn't feel like I needed his protection at a meeting in a god territory. However, we had some additions to our group to make up for Kirill's lack; Tobadzistsini, God of Darkness and Water, and Nayenezgani, God of the Sun. Toby and Naye were Mr. T and Mrs. E's twin sons. Naye was also Teharon's father. Yes; we had three generations of Native American gods with us, but they were from different tribes, and therefore, different pantheons. It was a strange cross-over, and part of the reason that Teharon and his twin brother, Tawiskaron, had been raised with no knowledge of their father.
Teharon had been working with his grandparents, in Thor's group of rebel gods, for years without knowing who they were to him. It was only recently that he discovered his birth father and his connection to Mr. T and Mrs. E. This discovery was due to a series of events that included my abduction by Naye, my falling in love with Toby, and then our sacrificing of our love to save my magic and life. Long story; basically, things between Teharon and his newly discovered family had been going great, but things between Toby and me had been a bit awkward. That is, they had been awkward up until the moment (just a few months ago) when Toby had approached me to tell me that he had met someone and was in love. I was happy for him, but despite the fact that I didn't feel love for him anymore, I still remembered being in love with him—a very odd sensation—and there were moments when I missed Toby. Moments when I thought I was feeling our love, not just remembering it.
Moments like this one.
“Vervain,” Toby's gentle voice fluttered over my skin as he leaned in to kiss my cheek.
“Hi, Toby,” I tried to sound cheerful, but, as I mentioned, there were times when seeing Toby was uncomfortable for me. In this instance, my belly was doing crazy flops, and my heart was picking up speed. “How's Doba?”
“She's good.” He smiled and became ten times more attractive. “I left her home today; didn't want her disturbing the council.”
Toby had a somber appeal; he was darkly handsome, with stick-straight, ebony hair that flowed down his back like calm water. That perfect line was broken by one slim braid, and at its end there was tied a sleek, black feather. That feather housed his magic, and I had once used it to bring Toby's soul back from the Void.
No; this body wasn't Toby's original one, but none of the Atlanteans looked as Nature intended them to; they looked as their magic intended them to. And Toby's magic had changed his new body into exactly what it had been when we'd first met: a sleekly muscled god with honey-oak skin and eyes bluer than the deepest, clearest, forest lake. The blue of his irises had a thin, chocolate band around them, making them appear even brighter. Those eyes, and the dramatic angles of his face, were usually in calm repose—a serenity that was infectious. He reminded me a lot of Teharon in that way. Though, I suppose I should say that Teharon reminded me of Toby, since Toby had been born first.
“And how are things with—” I left it hanging since he'd never given me the name of his new lover.
“Good as well,” he said softly. “She's looking after Doba for me.”
“Oh,” my voice sounded young, like a startled child's, and there was no reason for it.
Why I should be jealous of Toby leaving his dog with his new girlfriend was beyond me. Well, not entirely beyond me. Doba had been my dog first, back when I had believed myself to be Atahensic, an Iroquois Moon Goddess who had once been Naye's lover. She had born Naye twin sons; Teharon and Tawiskaron, but then she had died, and her children had been raised by her people. That was how Teharon and Tawiskaron became Mohawk gods (the Mohawks are part of the Iroquois Nations), instead of Navajo like Naye and Toby. Naye had seen me—another moon goddess—as the perfect receptacle for his dead lover's memories. But when Ata's memory had taken over my body, I was still in there; the memories couldn't control me completely. My soul, though ignorant of who I really was, could still feel, and during that vulnerable time, it had pushed aside Ata's love for Naye and had fallen in love with Toby.
This had caused all kinds of problems between Toby and Naye, and after I regain
ed my memories and went home, it caused problems between my lovers and me. Anyway, Doba had been mine, but I had given her to Toby so that he wouldn't be alone. The dog loved him as much as I had, and the thought of her with him had comforted me. The thought of her with his new girlfriend did not.
“She misses you,” Toby said, and the sympathy in his eyes told me that he knew exactly what I was thinking. “I'll bring her by again to see you under better circumstances.”
“Thank you, that would be nice.”
“Vervain,” Naye interrupted us.
“Naye.” I nodded to him.
If things were awkward between Toby and me, things were downright uncomfortable with Naye. Naye had done some pretty horrible things to me in the process of forcing the memories of his ex-lover into my head. But I'd come to understand his motivations, and even feel them myself. Beyond regaining his lover, Naye had also been trying to help his people, and that was something that few gods did these days. After things had calmed down between us, I'd created a charity to help the Native Americans. The group was doing a lot of good, and we now had offices on every reservation. That was due to Naye, and I tried to remember that every time I looked into his eyes.
Naye was nearly identical to Toby except for a few things: he had a pattern of five, zigzag, lightning bolts going down the right side of his face, wore a white feather instead of black, and his eyes were a yellow sunburst instead of blue—though his irises were surrounded by the same brown ring that Toby's had. Oh, and then there was Naye's arrogance. I don't know what it was with sun gods, but most of the ones I've met have been arrogant. The only exception so far has been Mr. T; who, despite the macho moniker I'd given him, was kind, gentle, and humble. But, as I said, he was the exception. I had learned to deal with Re's attitude, and even with Artemis' brother, Apollo, but Naye had always rubbed me wrong. Could be the whole torture thing. Being strapped to a wooden cross and baked in the sun for days can leave you with a grudge.
