by Angie Fox
The dragons roared and collided around us as the ground trembled. The skies opened up and I felt sick to my stomach.
“It’s all over the news,” Horace said, his voice grave. “The gods want to get one last battle in. They’re going to decide everything before peace strikes.”
They were going to wipe us out.
Okay. I could do this. I found Marc next to Kosta. “Get the dragons out. Everyone at the 3063rd too. Father will show you where.”
I turned to Galen. It was hard to see him through the tears crowding my eyes but I could see his anguish as well, the scattered hopes. I regretted every last second of pain I was causing him. Felt awful that I’d never get to hold him again. That I’d never have a life with this man. I’d never get to love him the way he deserved. “I love you,” I told him. “I always will.” Nothing could change that.
“Petra—” He looked like he was going to say something, stop me. His face was a mask of pain. “I love you.”
I smiled. Couldn’t help it. It lit me up every time I thought of how much that man loved me.
Just as quickly, despair settled in once more. I gave one last nod to my friends and colleagues, the people that had been my family down here. The ones who had made it bearable. I had to do this for them.
Get on with it, Robichaud.
I forced myself to move, to leave them. I walked past the VIP tent and headed straight east, out of camp.
They let me, their silence speaking volumes.
There was nothing else any of us could do.
My boots crunched against the sandy red soil as I reached the edge of our unit and kept going. Now that I was past the dragons, I could see the hulking forms of the mass of troops dead ahead.
Every step brought me closer to death, dismemberment, eternal punishment.
At least my death would mean something. I’d gain an end to this conflict. I’d free my friends.
I’d seen a lot of people die for nothing in this war. Hell, I’d prepared myself to be one of them. I’d walked through the MASH 3063rd graveyard and known that’s where I’d spend the rest of eternity, forgotten.
At least now my death would buy freedom for everyone trapped down here.
Yes, this was the end. But damn, what a way to go.
chapter twenty-three
The heavens had opened over the massing armies, bathing the entire landscape in an eerie pink light. It was like dawn, only it was unnatural.
Wrong.
But soon—when I’d done my duty—we’d have peace.
Galen would be released. My friends could go home. The dragons would never have to fight again.
When I died.
The gods knew how close we were to ending it all.
I could feel their energy crackling in the air.
Lightning struck and loud booms sounded as the gods transferred troops and artillery.
I focused on putting one foot in front of the other. The path curved to the left, but I kept going straight, through the stark desert, toward the thundering armies.
Images scattered in the distance, and when I drew closer, I saw that there were dozens upon dozens of spirits waiting for me. I recognized some, like the visiting doctor who had lost his life to a poisoned weapons wound. I saw Charlie. He gave a small wave; I nodded as I headed toward the battle.
I didn’t understand it. They could have left at any time. They didn’t have a stake in this. I fisted my hands in my pockets. Then it hit me.
Charlie and the rest did have a right to be here. They’d waited for this, for justice, for the end of the war. I might not be able to make what happened to them right, but I could give them the peace and the rest they’d been waiting for.
Trudging on, I saw Klotho herself standing alone in the desert. I’d almost mistaken the Fate for a ghost. Her gnarled hand clutched a length of weaving twine and her thin, wrinkled lips pressed together as she watched me.
“You did this,” I said, as I approached her.
“No,” she said, the wrinkles in her face deepening as she narrowed her eyes. “You did.” She pointed a ruby-ringed finger at me. “You wanted to make a difference.” Her voice grated like the sands of the desert.
“I gotta stop saying that,” I muttered.
Behind her, the armies faced each other over an open field. Both sides were so massive, I couldn’t begin to count the soldiers, or even see where the lines ended. It was a wave of people, of fragile lives, on each side.
The skies crackled as more men, more weapons were added to the never-ending sea of bodies. Immortal armies built up incredible amounts of energy. It was a side effect of the enormous power of these soldiers. It could melt engines, jam guns, short out modern weapons systems. The electricity crackled over my skin and made my head swim.
At the center of the armies was no-man’s-land, a break of desert no more than fifty feet wide. Menhit, Egyptian goddess of war and massacre, stood with Mars, the Roman god of war.
More gods and goddesses descended from the clouds.
I’d never been this close to the battle lines. The gods were treating it like a show. Like the gladiatorial contests from ages ago—only on a much larger, deadlier scale.
I walked straight for the Great Divide. I’d tell them who I was. I’d turn myself in. I’d bring an end to this insanity.
The energy of the Great Divide was deafening. I’d better not get fried before I could get close. Warning cannons boomed as I walked down, right into the break between the armies. It was like the road to hell.
It pressed down on my chest, stealing my breath. As long as I could breathe, think, put one foot in front of the other, I’d keep going.
The gods didn’t even notice me until I drew within five feet of Menhit. She wore a cape made from the pelt of a lion, bedewed with glittering jewels. She turned her high-cheekboned, haughty gaze my way and the crushing fog of the Great Divide lifted.
My limbs trembled and my heart lodged in my throat. Still, I spoke as loudly as I could. “Stop.” It didn’t even sound like my own voice as I called out to the god, “You’ve got me. I’m the healer who sees the dead.”
And then all hell broke loose.
Sandals pounded the ground as gods landed left and right. Their energies hit the Great Divide with enough force to give me whiplash. In an instant, I was surrounded.
My ears popped and my head lightened.
Menhit shoved through some of the lower goddesses and stood directly in front of me. She leveled the blade of her sickle at my throat, the razor-sharp edge scraping my skin.
“I don’t have time for this, mortal.” She lingered over the last word with a sneer.
I didn’t dare move as Mercury landed next to her. Then Abnoba, the Celt, along with some goddess who wore nothing but feathers.
“Move the blade back,” the feather goddess rasped. “They die when you slit their throats.”
Menhit sneered and drew back the sickle.
“Holy shit,” I said quickly. And not just because of the sickle.
Right there, over Menhit’s shoulder, I saw a beautiful Chinese goddess wearing silver robes. Around her neck was a silver chain that held a disc of the moon.
And she was dead. A ghost.
Major gods couldn’t die—or so they’d always told us. I didn’t know what to think. Maybe there was more happening here than any of us had realized.
But I couldn’t think on that now. I had to prove myself.
“You.” I pointed at her. “Chinese moon goddess. What is your name?”
It startled her. But she didn’t respond.
Menhit paled. “Who are you speaking with? You make no sense.” She scoffed, raising her sickle once more.
My jaw slackened. “You can’t see her?”
The moon goddess began to leave.
“Wait!” I stammered. What was her name? I knew I should have paid more attention in mythology class. “You! With the silver robes and the twinkly eyelashes and the hair piled up on your head a
nd that, that disc moon necklace!”
She froze.
“What do they call you?” I looked directly at her, begging, pleading. If she disappeared, I was screwed. She glanced furiously around her. Yes, the gods looked right through her, but, “I can see you,” I said, willing her to believe me, to stay with me.
She blinked.
“Tell me,” I rasped.
“Heng-O,” she said
Oh, thank God. “Heng-O,” I repeated. “She’s right here,” I told them. “She’s dead.”
Thunder boomed as a Chinese god pushed his way to the front. “You lie.” He sneered, eyes wild. “Heng-O is at home.”
No she wasn’t. She was right next to him.
Heng-O pulled her robe to the side and I saw the deep gash to her chest. Poor woman. She’d had a painful death.
“She’s been stabbed in the heart.” And not that deeply. I’d saved Galen from a similar wound.
A lump formed in my throat. She clutched her hands to her chest and gave a small bow. I brought a hand to my own heart in solidarity.
Who knew it took so little to kill a god?
“You high gods aren’t truly immortal,” I said, to myself as much as them. I looked the Chinese god in the eye. “You can kill each other.”
No wonder they’d conscripted humans, shifters, demigods, and everybody else to do their dirty work. “You don’t want to fight each other because you could actually die.”
The gods broke into chaos.
I tried to step back, but there was nowhere to go as accusations flew.
Pretty soon, I realized that the gods weren’t arguing over her murder, how her husband most likely had killed her, or how the crime should be punished. They wanted to know how a mortal could find out about the death of a god.
All eyes turned back to me.
“She is the healer,” the Chinese god snarled. “We should sentence her to the eighteen levels of hell.” He paused, then added, “To the grinding rooms.”
“No,” said a blond goddess wearing ox horns. She fisted her hands in anticipation. “The healer will drive my plows for eternity, while eagles peck out her eyes.”
“Oh, that is so tacky,” said a goddess wearing a wreath of peacock feathers. “We should tie her to a rock, split her open, and let hummingbirds make nests in her innards.”
I couldn’t believe these people were for real.
I felt a steadying hand on my shoulder, turned, and saw—“Galen!” Shock slammed through me. “You’re here.” What was he doing here? It didn’t make sense. But at the moment, I didn’t care. Relief wound through me along with joy that he’d do this. That he’d be here for the end.
He gave a small smile, as he caressed my cheek. “I don’t want you to face this alone.”
I hugged him tightly. “You got away.”
“I’m pretty good at sneaking around.”
I let out a snort. Giddy. Scared out of my mind. And just when I’d wrapped my head around Galen being there, Marc and Leta walked up behind him. “You.”
The corner of Marc’s mouth tipped up. Leta had her eyes closed. I could only guess she was projecting what was happening here. They were supposed to be escaping.
Through the clouds of dust on the path, I could see a shadow, like a new army of people marching up the Great Divide. As they drew closer I could make out the familiar faces of my friends, my colleagues at the MASH 3063rd. They were supposed to be sneaking through the portal. But they were here.
They were all here.
Marius walked up, hands on his hips, staring at the gods and not quite believing. Kosta drew up next to him, with a half-panicked Shirley clinging to his arm. Jeffe pawed nervously at the ground.
“What are you doing here?” I’d wanted them out, gone. I needed to do this alone. Although, damn, it felt good to have them with me, if only for a little while.
Rodger walked up from the back. Oh, no. He had a wife, pups.
He cleared his throat, his hair standing on end and eyes wild as if he were seeing me for the first time. “I can’t believe you’re the one who sees the dead.”
“Yeah,” I replied, unable to think of another word to say.
We were facing down two massive armies, plus the wrath of the gods.
Yes, I’d asked my friends to hide a dragon, but I never thought they’d go this far.
More fanned out behind Rodger—the guys from the motor pool. The nurses. My friends stood by me, and for that I was deeply touched. They were the reason I was doing this. For them and for countless others like them.
To the right, on the front lines of the old army, I spotted Oghul the berserker. I hadn’t seen him since he’d saved my life all those months ago. He wore leather armor studded with animal teeth. His long, curled moustache twitched as he stepped into the Great Divide.
He gave me a bow, mounds of colorful beaded jewelry hanging from his neck. You could have knocked me over when he drove a fisted hand to his breastbone and stood by me.
These people were stupid. They were my friends and I loved them but holy hell. “You have to go back before anybody gets hurt.”
Galen stood by my side, as did Marc, Oghul, and Kosta. The rest crowded behind us. Jeffe buried his head in the small of my back. They were scared out of their wits. So was I. But incredibly, they were here. They were daring the gods to smite us all.
I turned to my friends. Damn it all. “You don’t have to do this.” They could run, live, get the hell out of this death trap.
“We know,” Lazio said, trying for a cocky grin. “Too bad we never listen.”
There was a great gasp among the crowd—mortal and immortal—as Mars, god of war, rose up. He wore ancient Roman battle gear. Thick black hair cascaded down his back. Thunder rolled and the clouds spat rain as he snarled.
“How dare you?” His voice boomed. “How dare you stand against the gods?”
Oh, shit.
His face held rage, violence. “Your lives are insignificant. You have no power to change the future. You exist to do our bidding and you have failed.”
For a moment, nobody moved. Galen took my hand, his fingers tightened against mine, and I had the cowardly urge to sink into the ground.
But running wasn’t an option anymore. The gods had me. There was nothing I could do, other than sacrifice. And hope my friends would be smart enough to get out of the way.
Then a young blond-haired god pushed his way out of the front lines to the left. An angry red scar sliced the side of his face and spikes jutted out from the rondels on his shoulders. For a moment, I thought he was one of Mars’s enforcers, the one who would arrest me, take me, do whatever the hell they were going to do to me. But my heart nearly stopped when I realized who it was.
Dagr, god of fear. I’d rescued him from an enemy camp, tried my damnedest to save him from the Shrouds. I’d had him in my ICU where he’d talked about wanting to be a hero.
This wasn’t the way to do it.
He stood directly in front of me, rivulets of sweat running down the sides of his face, and I waited for the axe to fall.
“No one touches her!” he declared.
The gods let out a collective gasp and I would have done the same if I’d had any breath left. This god—one of them—scooted Marc out of the way and stood beside me. He was so close I could feel the power radiating off him. “Hell of a way to make an impression, doc,” he muttered.
It warmed me. It inspired me. And it scared the hell out of me because Dagr had just taken this to an entirely new level. I had no idea what the gods would do to me now.
Dagr was the one who’d escaped us all those months ago and found his girlfriend, the virgin goddess of hope. Well, I heard she wasn’t a virgin anymore.
Then I saw her—Cavillace. The raven-haired goddess stood behind Mars, with a baby in her arms. The little one was the god of peace. And with them on opposite sides, I doubted poor Dagr had ever gotten to meet his child.
Tears filled his eyes as she stepped ar
ound the god of war and ran to us. She embraced Dagr. He held her tight. Then pulled away tenderly, as she let him hold his baby for the first time.
The gods stood facing us, thunderstruck.
I knew the feeling.
We should have been fighting by now.
Instead, we had hope. Literally.
“Okay,” I said, having no clue what to do next.
Galen watched in stunned surprise. Rodger was handed the god of peace while Dagr put a lip-lock on his girlfriend. Holly stood grinning like a fool. And me? I had friends.
For so long, I had thought I was alone in this world. It was easier that way, to refuse to believe anyone else could care about me. I thought it would hurt less to live like that. But I was wrong. I needed these people. We needed each other.
“What is this?” Medusa slithered up next to me. She scanned the battlefield, the asps on her head twisting and hissing. “The battle should have started by now.”
I stared at her for a second. “What are you doing here?” I knew gorgons recovered from birth well, but she was carrying a battle-axe and she had her baby strapped to her chest.
“I am defending you,” she said, placing herself between me and the gods. “Why are they staring at us?”
“Get back,” I said, reaching out to touch her shoulder and then thinking the better of it. “Not with Emma.” We didn’t know what the gods were going to do. We couldn’t risk a baby.
Medusa glared at me, as if I dared question her parenting skills. “You try finding a sitter at the last minute.” She hoisted her axe onto her shoulder. “Nothing will touch me.” She tossed a glance at the people behind us. “I can’t make the promise for the rest of these fools.”
They might be fools, but they were my fools.
The gods were smiling now, which was a pretty good indication they’d come up with a fantastic way to axe the entire lot of us.
Everyone was looking to me for answers, but I had none.
Mars glared down at us. “You are nothing. You are dust under my sandals. Even if you turn against us, you will never defeat us in battle.”
Lighting streaked against the sky and the ground under us buckled. Dragons soared overhead.
“Bring it on!” Leta screamed behind me.
