Why had Indie betrayed me?
How could water be colder than ice?
Why did Othello love Death?
Had I already frozen to death?
Why was Callie so cruel—
My head broke water and I almost forgot how to suck in air. Before my head plunged back under, my reflexes kicked in and I inhaled what felt like one thousand razor-sharp icicles. My heart thumped against my chest, as noticeable as if someone was thumping on the outside. And it was erratic and stumbling, slowing and speeding in panic.
My mind was literally panicking and short-circuiting. I broke the surface again, my arms and legs feeling like lead-weighted foreign objects beyond my control. I moved in stiff jerks and my bones ached as if they were being crushed, on the verge of shattering.
My eyeballs felt like brittle glass and the air somehow hurt more than the thick, slushy water. Icicles formed on my eyelashes and hair, and the water on my cheeks and nose froze in the arctic air. My toes finally touched bottom—an icy sludge of thick, sharp mud—and I cried out in pain, feeling like I’d stepped on burning shrapnel. My toenails and fingernails throbbed, hit with unseen ball-peen hammers in a drumbeat more consistent than my pulse.
I stiffly rubbed my skin and hair and face as fast as possible while scrambling towards the shore, terrified of literally freezing solid if I didn’t keep every part of my body moving in some manner. My thoughts lashed onto my time with Ares and Apollo, how I’d suffered their torture by embracing the pain, and the dreaded agony abated enough for me to think rationally for a second or two. I grabbed my pile of clothes and ran back to the hut, tripping and falling awkwardly as my skin both erupted with flame and froze into more icicles.
Thanks to my ability to embrace the pain—and now that I was out of the panic-inducing water—I was at least able to aim my halting forward progression in the direction of my only salvation.
Fire. The hut had fire. My Titan Thorns blazed with red light, burning away the mist, and I heard unseen creatures and beasts screaming in outrage as distant branches and trees snapped and cracked in their hasty retreat. I hadn’t even known I’d had an audience.
I tripped again, rolling over a ledge and crashing into the valley with the hut. I heard wild shouts and furious barks, but all I cared about were the slithering tendrils of immolation calling me home with arms out like a worried mother. Fire—someone who loved me.
I shambled to my feet, ignoring the nails seeming to stab through every inch of flesh on my body, shivering hard enough for my neck to crack and pop as I pressed on towards the fiery oblivion. Burning alive was nothing compared to freezing to death.
I somehow made my way to the fire, the heat washing over me like acid rain. Icicles dropped from my hair, but I couldn’t even blink my eyes—they were frozen open.
I lifted my foot to actually step into the fire, but two sets of hands grabbed me—I saw them, but couldn’t feel them—preventing it.
I must have fought back against them, judging by their growls and hisses, but soon I just felt weak, like my body was sinking into the ground. They held me up and my mind slowly began to thaw as I stared longingly into the fire. Finally, I was able to blink, even though it felt like my eyelids had been ripped off. At least my eyes no longer burned.
Loki grunted. “It’s not that bad, pussy.”
My heart thundered in my chest as I stammered a response. “C-colder t-than you s-said. D-deeper t-too.”
Silence answered me. “It’s barely waist deep,” Loki began and then he abruptly cut off. “Wait, which pond did you jump in?” he asked nervously.
I couldn’t answer him. The manacles on my wrist felt like lead weights and I feared they would stick to my skin and rip it off.
“He went into the Deeps,” Fenrir murmured, sounding stunned.
“D-deeps?” I managed, almost biting my tongue off at the attempt.
Loki tore off his own robe and wrapped it around me, followed by another from one of my handlers. The god of mischief rubbed my arms, his eyes wild with alarm. “Not even Thor would jump into the Deeps,” he breathed. “It’s instant death.”
Fenrir whined sharply. “I won’t even jump in there.”
I wanted to scream at Loki or shove him into the fire, but the three sets of hands held me still. How many fucking ponds were there within walking distance, and why hadn’t they warned me about the only lethal pond?
“Can that dragon breathe fire?” Loki asked nervously. “We might need to light Nate on fire. As a precaution. Only a little bit. I think he’s literally dying. I hear ice in his lungs.”
“We are not lighting Master Temple on fire,” Carl warned from directly behind me.
“It really is Nate,” a new voice breathed—my second handler—sounding stunned.
I almost stumbled into the fire to hear Yahn at my side. “T-toe…t-tah…l-lee,” I croaked.
He grunted, wrapping me up in a tight hug. Yahn began to growl and I felt his body heat suddenly wash over me. I heard Loki and Carl curse and then the sounds of a lot of things falling over. Fenrir yelped and began barking with concussive blasts of air like blustery gusts.
I melted into that heat, feeling suddenly loopy with exhaustion. I smelled something burning but I didn’t care very much as that heat thawed me from the inside out. After an indeterminable time, the sensation faded and Yahn gently held me at arms’ length. “You okay?”
I nodded sleepily, opening my eyes. The ground around us was charred and smoking, and everyone else was at least ten feet away.
“That crazy fucker lit Nate on fire, Carl!” Loki shouted. “Who does that?”
Carl gave Loki a grim glare for tattling on the glass dragon when he’d suggested it first.
The front of the hut was smoldering and covered in white foam. Loki held a rusty, battered fire extinguisher. He saw that I was alive and let out a breath of relief. “I saved him.”
Yahn muttered a curse. “You ran screaming like a frightened girl.”
Loki narrowed his eyes. “Who sleeps with a teddy bear? Honestly?”
Fenrir chuffed, amused. Loki shifted his attention to me. “Nate! You crazy fucking maniac! I’m a damned frost giant and I wouldn’t dip my toe in the Deeps,” he said, shaking his head in awe. “You’re mental.” He turned back to Yahn. “And you almost burned our only shelter down to the ground. You’re about as helpful as twat-thunder,” he growled, shaking his fist.
Carl arched an eyebrow at the curse combo. Yahn studied Loki with a flat look and then finally turned back to me, ignoring Loki’s ridiculous taunt. He searched my face curiously, and I remembered that I didn’t look like myself.
“Happy birthday, Yahn,” I said, my throat feeling raw. “It really is me. Greta’s favorite.”
He shook his head, wincing. “The Reds are going to kill me. I ruined their surprise.”
I grunted. “Well, technically I ruined it. But you ruined mine, so we’re both complicit.”
He smiled crookedly. “Yeah, but I think I’m going to have to blame you. Where the hell have you been? Everyone’s been freaking out. Something about you disappearing on a mountain in Colorado, but they won’t share any details.”
I sighed, wrapping the robe tighter around me and sitting down on a smoldering stump. It was covered in foam, so it was better than standing on my aching feet. My toes still throbbed despite feeling only partly frostbitten, but none of them were black, so I was probably fine.
Thanks to Yahn lighting me on fire. Christ. The crazy bastard had really done it.
“How good are you at keeping secrets?” I asked him warily, realizing that he had to hear the whole truth if he was going to be any kind of asset in my plan. Whether he’d dropped the bear himself or been purposely woken, it was too late to send him back.
He studied me. “I’m not thinking I have much of a choice, but I don’t share secrets.”
“What if a god threatens to kill everyone you love?” I asked in a soft tone. “Can you still keep a secret?” I slowly turne
d to look at him. “What if they threaten to kill the Reds right in front of you? What if this god actually starts to kill them right in front of you?”
Silence answered me. Loki let out a long whistle. “He’s not wrong.”
Yahn stared at me, looking sick to his stomach. “I…don’t know,” he whispered.
I nodded, waving a hand for him to sit down. “That’s the right answer to an unfair question. Which is why you’re now on Team Temple. I’m sorry.”
He frowned. “I’m not going back, am I?”
I shook my head. “Not unless you’re willing to watch Zeus kill the Reds in front of you and still keep a secret. And if you could do that, I’d probably kill you on principle—right here.”
Yahn looked over at Carl. The Elder nodded soberly. “He speaks the truth.”
“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” Yahn said, sitting down on one of the logs. And, for the second time in an hour, I shared my story, urging Loki to do the same since he’d been involved with my allies—Yahn’s friends.
With only Yahn asking questions this time, it didn’t take long, but I only gave him the highlights, not the in-depth discussion I’d had with Loki and Fenrir.
26
Loki finally cleared his throat after I’d finished catching Yahn up on current events. “You don’t want our help on this. We’re already fugitives, so inviting us would only bring on my brethren, directly involving them with the Greeks. That would be a colossal mistake in an already colossally fucked situation—potentially world-ending if either side thinks we’re helping you. The Norse, although hunting me, will never allow the Olympians to come after me. Likewise, Olympus will unite against the Norse in full-blown war, even if Zeus has been acting on his own up until now. In fact, I would bet he’s hoping you rope the Norse into this so he has an excuse to rally his pantheon. A justification for war, and a way for him to consolidate power. All neatly wrapped up with an enlightening dick-measuring contest between Odin and Zeus.” He leaned forward. “And you’re the judge.”
I grimaced, shaking my head. “I never intended to involve you,” I admitted. “If I had known you were here, I never would have come to Niflheim.” I tugged my robe tighter around my body, hating the frigid chill of Niflheim. I’d refused to put my filthy prison garb back on. I’d risked hypothermia to get clean, after all.
Yahn sighed. “Everyone is searching for you. Hermes made an appearance at Chateau Falco, claiming they would help find you. Although suspicious, they largely seem to have bought it.”
“Who?” I asked. “Who bought it?”
“Your Horsemen. Callie dialed in on one of their phones. She was in the middle of some craziness in KC and couldn’t afford to leave town.”
I pursed my lips to hear that Callie hadn’t even come down in the flesh to get an update on me. No matter the reason. I imagined Aphrodite smiling at me sadly and shook my head.
Fucking Hermes was doing exactly what Zeus had warned—turning my friends against me. “But they haven’t seen Zeus—either as himself or as my doppelgänger, right? What about Apollo and Ares? Aphrodite?”
Yahn shook his head at the onslaught interrogation. “Just Hermes. He said he owed you a favor.” I grunted. That could have been a lie or it could have been referring to the bet he’d made with me over the four coins. I hadn’t mentioned those to anyone except Carl.
I knew Zeus’ modus operandi with his own children and pantheon—mental abuse. Which meant that as soon as he learned of Aphrodite aiding my escape, he would employ those same tactics on me and my people.
I didn’t have the resources to beat him on his treasure hunt. I knew what he wanted after that, though. The Armory and my Horsemen. The only way to beat him was to outmaneuver him. To out-Zeus…Zeus.
“What is the plan?” Yahn asked calmly.
I continued staring into the fire, hating myself for what I was about to say next. Finally, I looked up at him. Whatever he saw in my eyes made him flinch.
“We’re going to extort the other Horsemen.”
Fenrir looked up sharply, licking his lips. Yahn scooted back from the dreadwolf’s lunging distance, eyeing him warily. Carl nodded his approval. “For shoes. And glory.”
Yahn frowned at him, looking even more confused.
Loki leaned forward. “Pardon? It sounded like you just said you’re going to betray those most loyal to you.”
I nodded. “It’s for their own good. You probably shouldn’t hear the rest of the plan. It gets crazier, and you shouldn’t be involved. I can’t afford to drag the Aesir into this on top of everything else.”
He leaned back on his stump, shaking his head. “Well, fuck me. This almost sounds worth it.”
“No thanks,” I said dryly. “What I will need is for everyone to give me some space for a few hours. I need privacy and complete focus, so don’t bother me unless the world is ending. Deal?”
They stared at me, brimming with questions from my bombshell of a plan.
“Great. I’ll be inside the hut.” Loki had his mouth open, clutching a bag of Sensates in his lap. I pointed at them. “Oh, and give those to Yahn. He’s going to make my team three sets of necklaces and bracelets in case these Titan Thorns actually are trackable. On that note, one of you should scout our perimeter until our new jewelry is finished. That’d be you, Clifford,” I said, indicating Fenrir. “We don’t want any surprises, now, do we?” Carl beamed smugly.
Fenrir watched me silently.
“I am?” Yahn asked about his given job, sounding shaken.
I nodded. “You apparently run the Vault. Show me you’re worthy of the job or I’ll hire someone else later.” I nudged my satchel, flipping it open. The contents of my robbery spilled out on the ground. And a roll of duct tape. None of my personal items fell out, because it was a magical satchel, and only revealed the treasures I wanted revealed. “You might need that for the jewelry. When you’re finished, I need you to go through the stuff I stole and let me know what’s useful—especially if I managed to snag a godly hand grenade. That would be super.”
Loki made a strangled sound, sputtering incoherently in a failed attempt to speak.
“Don’t tell him if you find a godly hand grenade,” I told Yahn. Then I turned to Loki. “Sorry to intrude. We’ll be out of your hair once I’m finished. Niflheim is all yours.”
Fenrir burst out laughing. “Now that is how you fucking strut!” he growled proudly. His eyes smoldered and he dipped his head at me respectfully. “You do exceedingly well, godkiller.”
“I do as someone must,” I muttered, waving a dismissive hand. I just didn’t have the time or patience to make everyone feel better. The situation sucked. I was going to unsuck it.
“But I have a mutual interest in your cause,” he growled, eyeing my satchel meaningfully.
I nodded. I’d been waiting for him to bring it up, hoping that he wouldn’t. “Gungnir stays with me. Period. I have enough handicaps at the moment,” I said, brandishing my Titan Thorns, “to risk giving up such a powerful weapon. However, I swear on my beating heart that I will not hand it over to anyone without consulting you, first. My word on it as a godkiller,” I said, squaring my shoulders to face him directly. “Non-negotiable.”
Fenrir grew utterly still, not even appearing to breathe. “Why not destroy it?”
“It is leverage—and not just against you, brother. One does not simply destroy leverage.”
He narrowed his eyes, refusing to blink. I did the same. He finally reared his head back, regarding me pensively. “So be it. Your word or your heart. Break it, and I will collect.”
I bowed my head. “Thank you for your trust, brother.”
Surprisingly, he bowed his head as well. I kept the surprise from my face. “It’s not just you whom I trust. It’s those who choose to stand by your side. I am particularly fond of the pups.”
I grinned sadly. Calvin And Makayla. Gunnar’s pups had helped break him free. “Me, too.”
“Keep them saf
e, and I see no reason for conflict between us.”
And just like that, I wasn’t sure if I’d been threatened or complimented. Probably both, but I agreed with his sentiments, so I didn’t press my luck. I glanced at his collar. “I’ll make sure that thing comes off soon, Fenrir. I’m currently in similar straits, so I can’t offer much help,” I admitted, tapping one of my Titan Thorns. I studied the runes on my manacles and then frowned at his. I approached him thoughtfully, leaving the others by the fire. The symbols weren’t identical, but they weren’t all that different either. He had lowered his head for me to get a better look at the massive stone collar around his throat, leaving me a few feet away from teeth as long as my spine. “Have you ever heard of the carnage?” I asked him. No one else was close enough to hear my question.
Fenrir stiffened. “Now where in the hell did you hear about that?” he replied in a whisper.
I shook my head absently. “A friend warned me about it. Said it might be going around, twisting up some of the godly thought processes,” I said, choosing my words carefully. Loki was studying us with a thoughtful frown, curious as all hell what we were whispering about.
Fenrir stared at me. “That…could explain some things. But it’s highly unlikely.”
I cocked my head. “Why?”
Fenrir considered the question. “Well, carnage could mean multiple things. Some even say a gathering of Beasts is known as a carnage.” He chuckled darkly, but I found nothing humorous about it. “A flock of seagulls, a carnage of Beasts. The point is, they’re just…well, fairy tales for fairies, or myths for the mythical, and legends to the legendary.” I nodded, pondering his explanation with deep thought. “The carnage is one of the boogeymen of our world. One of the monsters of our storybooks.”
I met his eyes, not blinking. “And what the Regulars—the humans—take as fairy tales and myth, we know to be true…”
He hesitated. “True.”
“So perhaps this carnage is very, very real. We’re the Regulars in this echelon.”
He nodded very slowly, looking troubled. “I will think on it. Catalyst,” he added the last word, as if it were an afterthought—and a verification.
Carnage: Nate Temple Series Book 14 Page 18
