A Reckoning so Sweet

by Candace Wondrak

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Uneasy is what it makes me, because I know that sometimes our best isn’t good enough.

  The portal brings us to some unknown location on earth. My best guess is that it used to be a seaside cliff, though all mountains and hills were cut off the planet months ago. Nothing but dirt under our feet, land to our left, and a deep blue ocean on our right. There is no beach. The land just ends at the ocean.

  After looking around, I see that Dagon and I are the first ones here. “So, this is where it’s going to happen,” I whisper, staring at the ocean. The sun above shines brightly, its heat making me sweat instantly.

  “No matter what happens,” Dagon says, squeezing my hand. “I love you.”

  We meet gazes, each of us knowing that this could very well be the end. “I love you, too.” He leans down to kiss me, a quick peck, when the earth shakes violently, causing me to lose my balance. Dagon is unaffected.

  A mocking, sneering voice enters the picture, “How nauseating.” Hades appears, alone, arms folded in front of his chest, the screaming faces on his armor no longer sad and in pain. Today, their faces are twisted in anger, their mouths scornful. His thorny crown sits on his auburn head, his pointed gauntlets tapping his arms.

  I draw away from Dagon, turning to Hades as I try one last time to reason with him. I can never forgive him for what his actions have caused, for all the innocent lives that were lost because of his vengeful vendetta, but it’s always a good thing to try to avoid a fight. Hah. Look at me, being reasonable.

  “Hades,” I say, “you don’t have to do this. You—”

  “You assume I can be reasoned with. What a very mortal thing to believe.” The wind laps at his thigh-length cape, his eyes darkening. “No. Everything that I have done has led to this. I will not be dissuaded.”

  As Dagon shoots daggers at him, probably remembering his fun little stint in the Underworld, I add, “You should not hate Dagon because of his father. You should love him because of his mother. Demeter—”

  “Demeter is a fool,” Hades cuts in. “She always was. She might be able to see Persephone in him, but I see nothing but his father.” The earth rumbles, and once more I’m the only one affected.

  The bright sun above our head darkens, dropping the world in total blackness. Chirping wings, grating and loud, fill the sky. I don’t have to see to know that the Locusts have arrived. Hades exhales, and the area around him lights with a sickeningly green hue. For a moment, all three of us glance upward, watching as the mass of bodies writhe in the sky. They don’t attack. They’re waiting, like us.

  “I hoped to save my energy for Lucifer,” Hades says, slowly looking at Dagon. In a puff of green smoke, a longsword appears in his hand, one that I know hurts like a bitch. “But perhaps I shall finish you off first and get you out of the picture.”

  I feel Dagon’s strong hand move me aside, and he steps between us. “I am not as forgiving as Lexa. When you beg me for your life, I will not give it to you.” His menacing words are met with a lunge, of which he easily sidesteps. Soon, Hades and Dagon are caught in a fight, and I hate to admit it, but they are evenly matched.

  Dagon doesn’t transform into his true self. He saves it for the other arrival.

  Speaking of which, where is good old Lucy?

  The sound of bubbling liquid causes me to turn, momentarily forgetting the horde of Locusts in the dark sky. I watch, a sense of horror filling me, as a cloaked man rises from the ground, a dagger held tightly to his chest. His face wears a beard, his head mostly grey. Freckles upon freckles dot his skin, his eyes slowly opening to me. When he smiles, the hole in his throat moves, a sick, wet noise. Injuries I gave him.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this day,” he says, his voice slimy. Like Hades, he glows a dim green, maybe the reason for the Locusts staying away and not attacking. “Ever since you killed me, all I could think about was you.” Beneath his robe, he takes a step closer to me. “When you’re dead, you have nothing but time.” He smiles. “How is Deborah, by the way?”

  “Don’t you speak her name,” I hiss as we start to circle each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

  “She was ours,” he mutters before his quick hand lashes out. The dagger comes an inch from my throat, and I narrowly avoid its green blade. Not their usual daggers. This one is a Hades’s special. “And now I will claim your soul.” With a laugh, the dagger makes its way to my shoulder, where the armor I wear is the weakest.

  Almost as if it has a will of its own, Athena’s boon—my wrist—moves between the blade and its target. The green dagger hits the golden brace, and a wave of light reverberates through the air, incinerating any Locusts caught above us, and pushing the vengeful spirit back. “That’s what you don’t get,” I say, watching as he stands. “No one can have my soul.” I smile as I see that his green dagger has turned to goo.

  Who knew Athena’s boon would be so helpful?

  The man drops the hilt, motioning to each of his sides. Two portals pop up, and he does nothing but laugh and laugh as if knowing what my reaction will be. On his right is my dad, sullen and morose, not wanting to be here, to fight me, though he has no choice in the matter. On his left stands a little girl who should be locked away with the other saved souls, resting until this Reckoning is done.

  Josie wears the same tutu she was killed in, her chest and neck cut with the injuries from Gabriel’s wing. Her hair, wild as ever, frames her face. She slowly walks to me, no weapon in her hands. Her eyes blink, innocent of any ill-will. “Lexie,” she says softly, tearing up. “I miss you.”

  I shouldn’t let my guard down. I know they’re under Hades’s control. Yet…

  I kneel and hug the girl, squeezing her tightly, wishing that she was real, that she could stay, wanting it all to be over. As I hug the girl, I’m too entranced to seem my dad walk around me, stopping at my back. Suddenly Josie’s grip around me becomes iron, and she mutters, “I’m sorry.”

  The robed man with the tattoo on his forehead keeps chortling.

  My dad, the one who warned me about all of this, raises a green dagger, ready to stab me in the back while Josie holds me in place. My two greatest weaknesses.

  But the dagger never comes down.

  Maybe because of the scorpion tail that impales him in his chest, drawing no blood as it does so. A Locust, despite singeing from the green light, pulls my dad away from me, causing him to drop his dagger. Another Locust lands, tearing Josie off me, holding her kicking and screaming form.

  “Fools,” the robed man yells. “You cannot kill what is already dead!”

  But the Locusts pay no heed to him. They simply fly upwards, Josie and Dad in tow. Did they…just save me? Why?

  A rather large Locust—the biggest one I’ve ever seen, actually—lands with a thud behind the robed man. It stands at eight feet tall, its head baring its razor sharp teeth, its scorpion tail rising above its head. As the man laughs, saying “It doesn’t matter,” the Locust impales his chest. With a gust of its insect wings, the Locust flies away, bringing the cultist to the black sky.

  The earth shakes, and ahead of me, I see numerous portals popping up in the dirt. Hundreds, thousands, so many that they merge and make the entire ground look like one giant portal. This quake lasts a while, and I fall to my hands to steady myself. Dagon and Hades, still locked in their fight, dance along the shaking ground, unaffected.

  The eternal night sky cracks open, a bright, yellow light shining through. The color changes to orange and red, growing brighter and brighter, burning the Locusts that it touches. Giant balls of fire fall from the sky, tearing through the Locusts easily, turning them to ash, landing both in the ocean and on the dirt. The size of cars, full of fire and, I notice when the first hits the ground, blood. One lands just in front of me, causing me to gasp.

  Dozens of balls fall, and I realize in horror that they don’t affect the army of spirits rising before me. In fact, they just set them on fire.
There’s only one thing worse than dead people—dead people on fire.

  Night fades into daylight, and the earth quiets. The flaming balls sputter away, leaving falling ash in the sky. The Locusts are no more, and I’ll have no miraculous saves again.

  “Oh, Athena,” I mutter, stepping back, away from the spirits. Everyone from history, everyone dead, some in their pajamas, others with medical equipment sticking out of their bodies, some old and some young, take a collective step towards me. “You could’ve whisked me up a sword or something.”

  Seriously. How am I supposed to be useful in this fight with nothing to use? Yes, I’ve got my heat, what little bit of Devil Fire I have, but that only goes so far when, clearly, fire does nothing to the spirits.

  A winged figure appears before the sun, watching the scene below with amusement. Not in his Devil form, Lucifer looks akin to Dagon, minus the armor that covers his body. Black and warm, shimmering with the stifling hot sun. His mere presence is blinding, causing both Dagon and Hades to look up, through the falling ash.

  His wings scarcely flap, yet he stays aloft. A long, thin blade sits on his hip, the metal unnatural, unearthly. Lucifer laughs once. “Don’t let me stop your childish bickering.” A giant flap of his wings. “Unlike some, I am here for the final curtain, not the pre-show.”

  Gaseous, formless beings pop out of the sky near him—Demons. Every size, shape and color imaginable, all out of nightmares. Some have multiple heads, inch-long teeth; others have no discernable limbs. A few have Human Marks, their bodies decaying and long dead. The Demons stand on ledges that aren’t there, a ground that’s invisible.

  As Hades whistles, Dagon leaps into the sky, forgetting about his fight with Hades, thoughts about his father and what he did to me in the forefront of his mind. Dark wings that match the burning hatred for his father in his heart, Dagon soars up, unafraid of the Demon army congregating behind Lucifer.

  “Ah, if it isn’t my disappointing son,” Lucifer says with a smirk. “Have you decided to join me, or did that sweet Mark of yours convince you to pointlessly stand against me?”

  “I’m going to kill you,” Dagon whispers.

  That makes his father laugh. “If the powers of Heaven itself can’t kill me, what makes you think you can?”

  Not to be outdone, Hades assembles a chariot of four deadly beasts, their riders clearly itching for a fight. Once inside, Hades whips the reins, and the white, pale, red and black horses gallop toward Dagon and Lucifer, once again ignoring the laws of physics.

  Lucifer sneers at Hades. “And you. I see you still wish for retribution. Let me tell you something—” He slowly withdraws his sword. “—Persephone was begging for it. She had less of a spine than my boy’s Mark, though not by much.”

  That’s it. Those words erupted into an aerial fight, both Dagon and Hades launching themselves at Lucifer. With his sword hand, Lucifer keeps Hades’s attacks at bay, and with his other hand he is able to defend himself against Dagon. Fire gushes with every flap of a wing; horses whinnied. It is chaos in the sky.

  I lift my hands, fists in the air, punching and dodging with Dagon, as if I’m up there, too. “Right, left, duck. Yeah, get him…” I taper off, turning to face the army of spirits Hades brought with him. Each of them wears a disgusted, murderous expression. Taking a hesitant step back, I hear growling behind me, and spin to face—of course—the Devil’s army of Demons.

  What a lovely day.

  One with a particularly wolfish head snarls, venom dripping. Back in the good old days when anxiety was my highest concern, there used to be etiquette. Never harm a Mark that doesn’t belong to you. Now, though, such things were long gone. These Demons would gladly rip me apart.

  Roars, snarls, and shrieks pierce the air, and I narrowly avoid getting trampled as the two armies converge, colliding and fighting. The area fills with noise, and I run through the hordes of bodies and Demons, not knowing what to do, feeling pretty useless. For a Reckoning, I’m kind of just…here.

  In the middle of the endless supply of spirits, a portal opens, and a certain Vampire steps out. Right into the sun. Right into the harsh daylight that burns everything that isn’t supernatural. Cloud, from across the ever-long field, meets my gaze, and through the battle, I think I’m going to watch him die.

  But he doesn’t burst into flames and turn to ash like the Locusts. In fact, he looks more alive than ever.

  A small smile graces his lips, and he flashes through the field with his unnatural, Vampiric speed. Faster than he was on Human blood, I can only imagine this is Gaia’s doing. Through the portal, a large head pops out, and an ogre nearly fifty feet tall crawls through, hitting its chest before barreling through both Hades’s and Lucifer’s armies.

  One ogre, two ogres, three ogres…I lose count as they and every frozen being I saw in the field in the Fae realm emerge. A little wooden in appearance, but raring to go. From pixies to stolen Fae, from the ogres to Were-cats double the size of the Werewolves on earth, the field is overtaken by the newcomers.

  A hand tugs at my shoulder, spinning me to view a black, shadowy figure that looks remarkably like me. I met one of these Demons back when Josie was still alive, when Hades attacked the town Greg built up—and it wasn’t fun. Its mouth falls to unnatural levels, and I’m muttering “Oh, no” before it screams.

  It doesn’t get the chance to scream, however, for Cloud flashes, tackling the Demon to the ground. His hand punches through its chest, through the darkness, hitting something solid. The Demon dematerializes, fading into nothing. When Cloud looks at me, I see that his skin sparkles. Not in a crappy, CGI way, but more in a magical, Fae way.

  “I have never been happier to see a Vampire,” I say.

  Cloud’s blue gaze radiates warmth instead of its usual coolness. “Have I got some stories for you,” he says, right before he’s brought to the ground under a black, slimy Demon with a mess of limbs, similar to a spider. Its fangs snap at him, and within a graceful movement, Cloud snaps them off. The Demon howls in pain. “Go,” he whispers. “It’s almost time.”

  Somehow I wriggle through the fighting, landing my feet in the ocean. Glancing up, I see the sky parting, its blueness flickering as another group appears—this one, hopefully the last. It’s getting hard to keep track of all the sides, here.

  Clothed in a heavenly white, with wings of a pure auburn, Michael descends, an army of Seraphs in tow. Through his numbers aren’t many, I figure he doesn’t need much. Seraphs are perhaps the deadliest of them all. Those behind him wear their natural, obscene faces, their skin twisted and morphed, their fingers long and thin. Some hold bows, others swords. I don’t look at them too much, fearing that I’ll start seizing again; instead, I look mainly to Michael, who looks human, save his wings.

  At the new arrivals, Lucifer’s head turns towards the Seraphs. “Michael.” With a strong push of his wings, both Dagon and Hades are left behind as he rises to meet his adversary. The force barely scuffs Dagon, who follows his father, but Hades is knocked off his chariot.

  I chuckle softly as Hades falls into the ocean, but then I see that the four Horsemen gallop straight to me, coming down from the sky on an invisible bridge. Conquest, with his arrows made of bones and bow made of tendons, stands on his steed as he releases. The arrow soars through the air, a field of bugs buzzing behind it. A great ball of fire pummels past them, and I know the ghostly sword is not too far behind.

  I wince, bracing for impact. Last time, Hades stopped them. Today, I wasn’t going to be so lucky. War, Conquest, Pestilence, and Death are going to be the end for me. Fitting, isn’t it?

  “You will never succeed in your foul plan,” Michael’s voice thunders in the sky. He draws his sword—a Seraph blade, shimmering with ethereal light.

  “While you waste away in Heaven, I grow stronger in Hell,” Lucifer states, drawing his own sword. His Devil blade, its blackness equaling Michael’s light.

  Waiting, waiting. I wait for what seems like an eternity for t
he Horsemen’s attacks to hit. But they don’t. Sluggishly opening my eyes, I see that they’re all frozen, mid-attack. The bugs hover, but don’t attack; the ball of flame licks at the air, but not me. The most peculiar thing, though, is the arrow. It simply stops, directly in front of my face.

  The Horsemen pull the reins on their steeds, their galloping halting in the dirt. Their black, soulless eyes stare at me, heavy with hatred. Each one I thought was the worst, yet they were only the beginning. Their appearances led to this moment, and I hate them for it.

  A sharp stinging surges through my arm, originating in my hand. I look to my palm. A small green thorn has broken through my skin, and as I watch it, it looks like it pulsates with life. I have a scary thought: while this thing is inside me, it’s feeding off me. If I don’t get it out, it’ll kill me.

  As I wave my hand in the air, the Horsemen take a collective step back on their horses. The creatures’ various tails of fire, decay, blood and specter flick, their hooves pawing the ground. Through the fighting around and above us, I realize something I should’ve known all along—I have the key in my hand.

  War, Conquest, Pestilence, and Death are afraid of a seed.

  It’s almost enough to make me smile, but my triumph is short-lived. A sharp blade cuts through my back, drawn across the armor that protects me, cutting past it. I stumble forward, falling to the ground, the pain agonizing in a way that only something from Hades could do. I spin onto my side as Hades breathes heavily. He must’ve stepped out of the ocean while I was facing the Horsemen, came up behind me and…slice.

  “You should know by now not to interfere,” Hades states. “But mortals never learn, do they?” He raises his blade, its hue a green, sickly color, ready to strike me down once and for all. Dagon is busy fighting with Michael against Lucifer, each of them in their true, hideous forms. The Seraph army has joined the fray, knocking into everyone but focusing their attacks on the Demons.

  I raise my hand up, seeking to block at least part of the sword, but just like the Horsemen, Hades freezes when he sees the thing poking out of my palm. The god of the Underworld loses his cool for a moment, muttering, “Where did you find that?” Whatever he sees in me, he shakes it off, regaining his posture. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t help you.”