“Hey, ugly,” I shouted, but the Cyclops continued to advance. I tried again. I gave him a hotfoot he wouldn’t forget. He turned and ran toward me.
He knocked me to the ground. My head was ringing. I put up a hand, but before I could get the first word of the spell out, he was on me. He twisted my arm until I heard a crack.
It dangled there, useless, but I managed to send a white-hot fireball at the Cyclops. It hit his belly and his eye began to burn. The sound of a screaming Cyclops filled the air.
Hecate entered the battle, riding on the back of her three-headed dog, Cerberus.
Hecate was on my other side. She let out a war cry and brandished an axe as big as she was. She missed the first time she swung, but the second time, she hit flesh.
There was a scream that echoed in my mind until I realized it was me screaming. There was the crunch of bone and I shut my eyes against the pain. When I opened them again, there was nothing but a wall of red.
When my vision cleared, I looked over, numb with shock, to see a flesh eater munching on my severed left arm like it was turkey drumstick at the state fair. Hecate had hacked it off, just above the elbow.
The flesh eater gave me a bloody grin and waved at me with my own arm. Rage overrode the intense pain. I drew a raggedy breath and then another. My right hand started to tingle and a small fireball formed in my palm.
He stopped grinning when I sent it his way. He couldn’t dodge it. The fireball glowed white as it enveloped his body and turned him to ash within seconds.
“That’s for taking my arm,” I said. His comrades were still there. We were outnumbered by the sheer number of flesh eaters, trolls, and demons in Hecate’s army.
There was a strange numbness all over my body. I couldn’t look away. There was an emptiness where my left arm used to be. The stump was at an odd angle and blood spurted from the torn arteries. I’d die of shock and blood loss if I didn’t do something soon. As I felt my life draining away, I threw another fireball, this one bigger and glowing white, right into the center of Hecate’s army.
The last thing I heard was the sound of Hecate’s laugh rising above the chaos.
Then I died. Again.
Chapter Thirty
I woke up in the makeshift hospital at the abandoned military base. I recognized the graffiti on the walls. I’d been upgraded to a fold-up cot. I wondered who’d risked their life to find it for me, but I wasn’t going to complain. It was better than sleeping on the floor, especially as much as I hurt.
There was the unmistakable odor of singed flesh, the ache of a missing limb. My left arm was gone.
My body screamed for alcohol. The DTs started, and I was a sweaty ball of pain that not even magic could cure.
I tried to sleep it off, but my dreams were filled with the sounds of screams and visions of bloody corpses. When I was awake, alcohol withdrawal hurt worse than the amputation. My eyesight was blurred by pain or by medication and visitors were fuzzy shapes.
A few days of sweating out the alcohol left me dehydrated and cranky. I would have wrestled a bear to get to some absinthe, but the blood loss and DTs left me too weak to leave my bed.
When I awoke again, my father was staring down at me.
“This is getting to be a habit,” Doc said.
“Did you bring me back again?” It was an accusation.
“You’re not done yet, Nyx.”
“You told me that a piece of everything that makes me human dies each time,” I said. “I’d rather be dead than an empty shell.”
“You seem to be full of righteous indignation,” he said. “So apparently, your humanity is still alive and well.”
My father could be a smart-ass.
I remembered what had happened on the battlefield and looked down at my left arm. Or, more accurately, what was left of it. “I guess even Hades can’t bring my arm back,” I said.
“The flesh eater ate it,” Doc said bluntly. “Naomi applied a tourniquet, which probably saved your life. They brought you here and I cauterized the wound.”
That explained the smell. I owed Naomi big-time. I would have bled out before Doc got to me.
“I need to check the bandage,” he said. “Make sure there’s no infection.”
I turned my face away as he unrolled the gaze. I winced and his hands stilled. “Are you in pain? I gave you a sedative. It should take effect soon.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “And no more sedatives.”
“It’s up to you,” he replied.
“Where are the others?” I asked. “Rebecca, Talbot, Ambrose, Claire, Naomi? Are they safe?”
“Yes, they are safe,” he replied.
“How many dead?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I’ll let Ambrose fill you in on that.” My father didn’t think I was strong enough to take bad news.
He started to slip out of the room, but I stopped him. “Doc?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“Get some rest,” he said. He gave me a short nod before slipping out.
I was loopy from the pain meds and fell asleep almost before the door closed.
When I awoke, Ambrose and Talbot were in the room.
“How many people did we lose?” I asked.
Ambrose avoided the question. “We managed to do some damage.”
“Not enough,” I said.
“Probably not,” he said. “But you killed her Cyclops.”
I stared down at the spot where my arm used to be. The stump was bandaged, but a trace of blood had leaked through. “Yay me. What happened to Hecate?”
“Doc wounded her,” Ambrose said shortly. “She ran.”
“How?”
He shrugged like it was no big deal, but I was amazed. Doc had been adamant about staying out of the fight.
“He did it to protect you,” Ambrose added. “He’s pretty shaken up about it.”
I deserved what had happened to me. I’d been so sure of myself, so cocky. My arm, or what was left of it, throbbed angrily. It was gone and there was nothing I could do about it.
“I wish you’d let me die,” I told him.
“It wasn’t your destiny, Nyx,” he said gently.
“Who says?”
“Can I come in?” Naomi stood in the doorway, twirling her braid nervously.
“Of course,” I said.
She gave me a gentle hug. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” she said. “Not after Aunt Morta and Mom.”
“I’m hard to kill,” I replied.
She leaned away from me and looked into my eyes. “But not impossible,” she said. “Remember that and try not to take any unnecessary chances.”
“I will,” I said. “I can’t afford to lose any more body parts.”
The sound she made was half laugh, half sob. “See that you don’t.”
I fell asleep soon after. I’d put a brave face on things for my cousin, but inside, I wanted to scream.
I slept for hours, but not even sleep took away the pain of losing a part of me. Something I still felt as my missing fingers tingled. Phantom feelings.
I woke up dry-mouthed and reached for the cup of water on the upturned crate that served as my night table.
“How’s our hero feeling?” Talbot asked.
“Who says I’m a hero?”
“You’re the closest thing we have to one,” he said.
“Don’t let it get around, but I’ve been working on something,” I told him. “I just need a few days to figure out where it’s stashed.”
“And then what?”
“And then I use it on Hecate,” I said. “Help me up.”
“Nyx, you’ve lost a lot of blood,” Naomi said. “You need time to heal.”
“I haven’t got any time. I need to fix things.”
She stared at the stub where my left arm used to be. “No amount of magic is going to fix that.”
I closed my eyes and slowly, the stub began to tingle, then warm and burn. I open
ed my eyes and saw a hand of flame. It glowed red, then green, and then finally turned ice blue before disappearing.
There was a long silence.
“How did you learn to do that?” Naomi asked.
“Doc taught me,” I said.
She gave me an odd look.
“What?” I tried to cross my arms and then remembered it was in the singular now and stopped mid-cross.
“Most magicians, even the oldest and best, can’t do that,” she said.
I racked my brain. Had I ever told Naomi who my father really was? I hadn’t. Was it forgetfulness or something more? I shrugged. “Doc can. And so can I.”
Doc slept in a chair in my room. The missing arm throbbed a reminder of all I’d lost. I wanted something to drink, but I fought it. My hand shook with the effort it took not to reach for a bottle. I had the sweats. I threw up.
When I finished heaving, Doc handed me a cup full of smelly liquid. “This should help,” he said.
“This smells like cat piss,” I complained.
“Yes, it does,” he said. “Now drink every drop.”
I choked it down. “The cure is worse than the sickness.”
“Give it a minute,” he said.
It took ten, but the pounding in my head stopped. “Time for a strategy session,” I said.
“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Doc asked.
“I have to be,” I said. “The longer we wait, the longer Hecate has to torture people.”
Doc gathered everyone together and they met at my bedside. Claire was conspicuously absent.
“Where is she?” I asked Naomi.
She shrugged. “She’s been poring over the Book of Fate.”
“We need to find Wren and get that bead back,” Talbot said.
“She’s our best bet,” Ambrose said. “But what makes you think Hecate doesn’t already have it?”
“Hecate wouldn’t want to carry all of her elements of power with her,” I said. I turned to Naomi and made a vague waving motion. “Can’t you just make it happen?”
“This isn’t an episode of Bewitched,” she said dryly. “I can’t wiggle my nose and poof it for you.”
“Wren is taking everything she learned about the Fates, Claire and Naomi,” I said, “and using it against us.”
“You think she’s been planning this all along?” Talbot asked.
“I think it’s time we do the same thing,” I replied. “Claire was in the underworld long enough to learn a few secrets. I think Talbot’s right. We need to find Hecate’s Eye.”
“Do you know what to do with it once we find it?” he asked.
“Not exactly.”
“Naomi, dear girl, perhaps you learned something in your training?” Ambrose asked.
She shook her head. “Honestly, I feel like they didn’t tell half of what they knew.”
“Convenient,” I muttered, but she heard me and glared.
“I suppose your mother taught you everything she knew.”
“Don’t talk about my mother,” I said.
“Children, quit quarreling,” Ambrose said.
“It’s settled, then,” I said. “I’ll find Wren and get back Hecate’s Eye.”
“What are you going to do with it once you get it back?” Rebecca asked.
“Destroy it.”
Destroy the bead. Destroy Hecate. Save the world.
Chapter Thirty-One
The only good news was that Hecate had retreated when I’d killed her Cyclops and had abandoned the trapped flesh eaters. There was a still a chance to save them. Talbot and Ambrose had been feeding them entrails and guts while Alex and Doc worked on the cure.
I was recuperating from the amputation but, even worse, I was drying out. No matter what I did, in the back of my mind, there was always the urge to reach for a bottle.
Doc had been going back and forth from our headquarters to Elizabeth’s lake house. I was still in bed when he came to check on me.
“It’s almost dinnertime,” he said. “Why are you still in bed?”
So much for the solicitous parent. “I’m not sleeping that well.” It was an understatement. My body ached for sleep, but it wouldn’t come. And when it did, it brought only nightmares. The screams of those who’d stood with the House of Fates still rang in my ears. My sleep was filled with visions of blood and pain. I’d wake up dripping sweat, screaming.
“The pain from your arm will disappear in time,” he replied. “I can give you some pain pills.”
“It’s not that,” I said. “I thought I’d try the sober thing for a while.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” he said. He nearly smiled, but settled for a slight upturn of his lips.
“How is Elizabeth?” I asked.
“Don’t worry,” Doc replied. “She’s safe. I have wards on that house that Zeus himself couldn’t break.”
“I want to see her,” I said.
“No way, Nyx,” he replied. “It’s better if you stay away. At least until we find the cure.”
“You’re sure she’s safe?” I wasn’t in love with Elizabeth, but I still cared about her. She’d stumbled into the middle of my aunts’ machinations and paid the price for it. I wanted her away from Minneapolis, for good this time.
“I should have never called Alex,” I muttered.
Doc cleared his throat. “Elizabeth did mention something that concerned me.”
“About what? Her safety?”
“She said you wanted to die,” Doc said. “Tell me why.”
“Nobody’s ever asked me that before,” I said.
“I’m curious.”
“I just got sick of it,” I told my father. “How have you managed all this time?”
He gave me a wry look. “I’d hardly say I managed, at least not very well. I screwed things up rather badly with Fortuna.”
His voice always softened when he said her name.
“Love trumps hate every time,” he said.
“Is that why you didn’t kill Deci?”
“She was the mother of my child,” he said. “Even though I didn’t love her, I could never hurt her.” He rubbed his scar. “But she didn’t feel the same way about me.”
I had no trouble believing that my aunt would be that ruthless.
Ambrose came into the room. “We’ve finally heard from Fitch. You have to leave now. You’re meeting him at the same location as before.”
“Him? What about Ruth?” We were screwed if anything had happened to the fortune-teller.
Ambrose shrugged. “Didn’t say. But the message did say to hurry.”
I floored the Caddy on the way to the bus station.
Fitch waited for me on a metal bench inside the station. He was reading a newspaper, but his eyes weren’t on the page. He scanned the crowd while he pretended to read.
Our eyes met, but he didn’t show any recognition. I didn’t see Ruth anywhere.
I circled around a few times and scanned the station for demons. I still needed time to get used to my missing limb. Even walking was different. I’d never noticed how much I swung my arms when I moved until one of them was missing.
There were a family of mortals waiting to board and a couple of homeless kids panhandling by the entrance, but I didn’t sense any demons.
I sidled up to Fitch. “Where’s Ruth?”
He didn’t even look up from his paper. “She’ll be along. There was something else I wanted to talk to you about first.”
“What happened to you?”
“We were waylaid by a couple of demons,” he replied. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. They were waiting for us outside Ruth’s store.”
“Did they hurt you?”
“Roughed us up some,” he said. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Someone knew we were meeting you.”
“Nobody knew except…” My voice trailed off. Luke was Fitch’s brother. He wouldn’t set demons on his own brother, would he?
“Except who?”
Fitch asked.
I answered reluctantly. “I saw Luke on my way out. He asked what I was doing there.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I lied.”
“Did he believe you?”
“I thought so at the time, but now I’m not so sure.”
Fitch started to say something, but his attention was caught by a tourist. “There’s my lovely lady now.”
Ruth wore a wide-brimmed hat, Bermuda shorts with a bright orange shirt, and Birkenstocks. “Tony, my dear boy,” she said loudly. “It’s so good to see you.” She hugged me.
“Tony?” I whispered to Fitch.
“She thinks you look like a Tony,” he whispered back.
“I think I’m offended.” Tony was such a prosaic name.
I kissed Ruth’s cheek. “Hello, Aunt Edna,” I said. She led me to a bench.
She smiled, but her eyes were serious. “Give me your hand.”
I did as she asked. “Now concentrate on the item you are seeking.”
I tried to imagine what the silver harpy feather would look like.
“It is very close to someone you loved,” she said.
There were only a few people in this world I loved, and most of them were dead. Was it in a graveyard? “Where?”
“Red,” she said. “I can’t see anything but red.”
“Anything else?”
“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing.”
“It’s something,” I said. “I’ll think about it.” I kissed her cheek. “I’ve got to go, but thank you.”
“Be careful, Nyx,” Ruth said.
I nodded and left. I was almost at the front door when I sensed demons. I turned back. Fitch’s newspaper was on the bench, but he’d gone.
I ran through the depot, searching for him. Two demons held Fitch by each elbow, dangling him in the air. There was no sign of Ruth.
They threw him in front of an oncoming bus. The Greyhound screeched to a stop inches from Fitch’s face.
I grabbed Fitch’s hand and helped him up. “Where’s Ruth?”
“She left before they showed. Pretty sure she got away.”
“Go! Now.”
He did as I asked. I faced the demons, who stopped snickering when I pulled the hoodie off my face.
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