by ST Branton
“Yeah,” I said.
She sighed. “You’re one crazy bitch, but I’m rooting for you.”
I smirked. “Thanks. Like I said, trust me. This is the way it has to be.”
Maya came forward and hugged me with all her considerable strength. “I hate this,” she said. “And I want you to know that. But I have faith that you know what you’re doing.”
Jules came next. She didn’t say anything and her gaze, brighter than usual, remained on my face. Frank cleared his throat. “Good luck, kid,” he said quietly. “I better be seeing you.”
Steph laid her hand on my shoulder. “Fucking kill that son of a bitch,” she said. “For all of us.”
Deacon waited until the others had spoken before he pulled me aside. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” he said. “Don’t do anything stupider than usual. I need you to come through this.”
I smiled. “Otherwise, you’ll have to try online dating. You know, when the Internet’s fixed.”
He chuckled in spite of himself. “I’m gonna miss you.”
“Hey.” I feigned injury. “Give me a little more credit than that. I’m not dead yet.”
The sadness in his eyes didn’t shift, and that made me sorrier than anything else had done in a long time. I wished I could soothe his worries and tell him he was overreacting. But the truth was, I couldn’t. The odds, as Marcus had said, were slim.
If I didn’t win, I would die.
Deacon leaned down to place his lips against mine. I stopped him gently. “Save it for when that bastard’s dead.”
“I’ll take that as a promise,” he replied. He released me, turned back to the others, and walked away to rejoin them.
That may have been callous of you, Victoria, Marcus said reproachfully.
“No,” I answered. “It’s a little extra motivation. For both of us.”
Chapter Thirteen
The north side of the mountain was easy to locate on account of the dense mist that cloaked the face. Visibility in the cloud was sharply reduced, but I could hear the waterfall over my head and I used that to guide me. There were plenty of handholds in the face of the cliff. I didn’t let the fact that they were slick with condensation deter me from my goal. As soon as I found a starting point, I pulled myself up, and the ground began to fall away as I moved steadily upward.
Gradually, the fog dissipated as well. The smell of wet earth filled my nose and frigid drops of water dripped constantly into my eyes. I trained all my focus on the climb for the first fifty feet or so until my hand gripped the top of a broad ledge. Half a second later, shards of pain knifed down my arm as someone out of my line of sight stepped hard on my fingers.
I clenched my teeth and powered through the pain to lever myself onto the ledge. A boot-clad foot lurched toward me but I caught it in one hand and rolled to the very edge of the precipice. My free arm swung into open air and I fought the powerful instinct to look down.
“Well, well.” The voice that hovered above me was low and grating, the verbal equivalent of rock on rock. It belonged to a stocky, broad-faced man with stubby horns on his head. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
He squared his stance and his bumpy skin reminded me of a toad.
“I dragged myself up here, thank you very much,” I said. “And thanks for stepping on my fingers. You’re lucky I have five others.” I examined my injured hand quickly. My thumb, index, and middle fingers were swollen although they didn’t hurt that much. I flexed them gingerly.
“Who are you, anyway?” I asked. My hope was that some inane small talk might allow me an opportunity to take him by surprise. The last thing I wanted was for him to raise the alarm while I was still this low on the mountain.
“Don’t matter who I am,” he replied as he brandished a long, thin staff. “This is as far as you’ll go.”
I drew the Gladius Solis in response. “Spoken like a true dickhead who’s never met me before.”
The blade illuminated his lumpy face but he didn’t bat an eyelash. His staff swung at me with a speed that would have been dizzying for anyone else. I blocked his strikes with equal agility and new notches smoked on the sides of his staff.
“Nice try,” I said.
The guard gritted his teeth and hunched into a brawler’s posture. He attacked once more, but his weakened weapon snapped into pieces instead of making the impact he’d intended. I rammed the tip of my sword into the ground and used it to vault over him. He skidded toward the cliff edge. One foot went over and he seemed to hover a moment before the rest of his body pitched after, a prisoner to momentum. He twisted at the last minute and grabbed the ledge.
“Well, well,” I said and stood over him. “Look what the cat’s about to toss out.” Rather than step on his fingers, I chose to cut them off. His shriek of pain transformed instantly into one of terror as he plunged to his death.
The ledge on which I found myself ran the entire way around the mountain. As far as I could tell, it served as a catwalk for the security that still seemed oddly lax. The mountain was wide enough that I knew there had to be other guards who patrolled at this level, but I didn’t want to waste more time by dealing with them. I extinguished the sword and headed for the vertical path hewn out of the rock. When I craned my head back, I could pick out an obvious route, probably the most popular among Delano’s personnel—and most likely also the most efficient.
Without the choking cloak of mist, the climb was actually fairly pleasant. The presence of the patrol ledges mitigated the threat of height to some extent, and I settled into a good rhythm. It hadn’t taken long for my body to adjust to vertical movement. This part was easy.
“Do you have any idea what that guy was?” I asked Marcus as I pulled my way upward. “I don’t remember a toad god.”
By my estimate, he was a hybrid. Perhaps a demon such as Abraxzael mixed with some other infernal creature. I expect we will see many more of these unorthodox creations as we proceed. There have been misfits throughout the annals of the gods’ history, often easily manipulated for a cause.
“But now Delano’s making it trendy,” I muttered. “Figures.”
Delano’s method manages to transfer the god’s power without diluting it. I assume this is because he bypasses blood and genetics entirely.
“Heh.” I wiped my hair out of my eyes. “When in doubt, consume.”
That seems to be his rationale, yes.
I paused briefly to get my bearings and tried to gauge how far I had yet to go. It was difficult to tell. “Even his stupid lair has to be a pain in the ass,” I said.
I am proud of you for choosing to face it alone, said Marcus. I am sure it was a painful conclusion to reach, but it is the wisest course of action.
“I hope so.” There was a knot in my stomach that simply wouldn’t go away. “I know you’re positive, and I’m glad about that, at least. But no matter which way I look at it, I feel like I might’ve made a horrible mistake. It’s like the classic, ‘what if he wants to split us up’ kind of worry. Like, maybe I played right into his hands.”
As you said before, this is a risk that must be taken. I cannot overemphasize Delano’s greatness, as much as I despise doing so. His current form is superior to anything I have ever witnessed, either on this earth or in the realm of the gods. The spirits of your friends, strong as they may be, would be crushed by his mere presence.
I frowned. “Dude, what the fuck? You don’t have to write me a poem about the guy. He’s the one we hate.”
I believe he has met his match in you. You, too, are like nothing I have beheld in my ages of life among humanity. If Delano is the darkness, you are the light. And you will snuff him out.
“That’s more like it,” I said.
He went on. Even if you should fail, the bards will sing your praises for eternity—a hero the likes of which the world has never known and will never know again.
I laughed and shook my head slightly. “And we’re back to no good. I need you to be m
y hype man right now, Marcus. Talk about my honor and all that other shit you love to go on about. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather stay off the bards’ medieval pop charts.”
I thought you would enjoy being the subject of a drinking song.
“Not as much as I’d enjoy living to a ripe old age. What kind of woman do you take me for, anyway?”
The kind who is capable of bringing down the god to end all gods.
I fumbled upward and grasped the next ledge. “Good answer.”
Steeling my nerves for whatever I might see, I hauled myself up and over.
At first, I encountered nothing but a weird, musty smell. I stood still, my sword at the ready, and peered into the inky well of shadows in front of me. The wall went back much farther, almost like a cave. The sounds of shuffling and creepy, non-verbal moans met my ears. Shapes like bodies materialized from the void. I felt the hair stand up on my arms and the back of my neck.
“Oh, hell no,” I whispered.
Shambling toward me was a small herd of Beleza’s former henchmen, but they were shells of their former selves. Gone were the rich tans and toned muscles, now replaced by greyish, sagging skin stretched over skeletons. Like their late god, they had shriveled significantly. The tatters of their skimpy underwear clung to their hips. They moved en masse, their eyes milky and blank and their jaws slack. And in the middle, guiding them along, was their shepherd. I recognized the tall, gruesomely thin figure from a parking lot in a small town outside the Delaware Water Gap. The last I’d seen of him, he was running away as a horde of zombies came between us.
“You,” said the god. His mouth twitched into the semblance of a smile. “How serendipitous it is to see you again.” The words blew over me in a rotten wind. “Tell me. Are you still in the business of killing gods?”
“Yes.” I withdrew the Gladius Solis as proof. “And business is booming.”
He chuckled. A weird note of some emotion floated underneath. Sadness maybe, or wistfulness. “Once, I would have mocked you for daring to think you could kill me.” He fixed his vacant eyes on my face, and white sparks seemed to dance in colorless pools. “Now, I can only hope you will succeed.”
He raised his hands and thrust them forward. The members of his horde rushed at me.
This is most unusual, Marcus remarked in a tone of voice that made me think he really meant to say, “fucked up.” I swept my sword in a quick, brutal circle and cleaved the first wave of Beleza’s fallen followers in half. They clattered to the ground and froze weakly into pitiful approximations of statues. But those final forms were brittle and unsustainable, even in death. They crumbled beneath the feet of their brethren, who were cut down just as quickly.
I looked through the melee at the zombie god. He stood listlessly at the back and went through the motions of directing the remaining mob. I slashed at the final few and advanced on the corporeal specter. He was at least eight feet tall, his head stooped beneath the ceiling of the hollowed cavern.
“You can do better than that,” I said. “Come on.” My brain told me I was wasting time I didn’t have, but the god’s utter sense of defeat fascinated me. I’d never seen one beaten down and yet still alive.
“There is no use in trying,” he told me. “For the final time, I have been passed over and relegated into a position of insignificance. If I endure, I shall be forced to bear witness to Delano’s gross abuse of the power he never earned. I would rather be obliterated than exist this way, a roach in a hall of kings.”
“Damn,” I said. “You’re still an asshole, though.”
He shrugged and seemed to acknowledge the statement. “For my actions, I do not and cannot repent. Humanity is a plague to be purged. But you?” The god extended a long finger as if to touch me. “You are more than that, for a simple human cannot kill even a god such as I. Still, I have yearned to meet you again.”
I lifted the sword. “Fight me, and I’ll kill you.”
“Why should I fight?” asked the god. “It would only prolong the end which I desire.” He stared emptily into my face. “No. There is no more struggle to be had. There is only ruin.” The folds of the tattered cloak swept open to reveal the black heart I hadn’t pierced in our first fight. He was silent, motionless, and docile. I summoned the blade and stepped toward the broken god. When I was close enough, he knelt and closed his eyes.
“I don’t know where you’re going,” I said. “But I hope it sucks.”
The sword entered the heart in one swift movement. Its beat stuttered.
“Thank you,” he breathed. The heart convulsed and evaporated into nothing. The rest of the body rapidly followed suit. In a matter of seconds, all that was left was the ragged cloak.
“I think I like it better when they fight me,” I said.
Chapter Fourteen
Near the top of the mountain, the flow of cascading water became more of a torrent. I had to scramble to the side in order to circumvent most of the flood, but my arms and the front of my jacket were still soaked when I crested the final lip of the topmost plateau. I stood there for a moment to catch my breath and shake rivulets off my fingers as I gazed at the soaring spires of the temple.
Someone was clearly compensating for something.
I walked forward and scanned the vicinity for patrols. The entire plateau was deserted, except for one corner that protruded over the cliff face. A large boulder sat there, secured by chains that had been wound around the body of a fish-tailed, androgynous being. It was still alive and writhed in agony, its mouth twisted open in an everlasting scream.
The creature’s glimmering, scaled torso had been pierced by a spear, and the start of a thunderous waterfall poured from the wound. I looked down over the hundreds of feet I had climbed and realized that the water I’d seen on the way up was only runoff. The main fall dropped into the surging thread of a river far below.
This is horrific, Marcus proclaimed, and his words dripped with disgust.
I took an extra moment to examine the wretched water god with some amount of pity, but even if I’d wanted to, there was nothing I could do—not without announcing my presence. I turned away and walked toward the grand entrance to the temple’s main hall. The doors were already open and loomed above me. I felt judged as I passed between them.
Only dead silence lay on the other side. The hall was incredibly long, its vaulted ceilings painted with scores of swirling, colorful murals. The scenes burned with violent energy and depicted portrait after portrait of blood, death, and war.
I was hyperaware of the sounds created by my own body. My pulse thrummed in my ears. Each breath seemed to rush in and out of my lungs like a gale-force wind. Echoes danced from every corner of the vast chamber.
Delano’s hall was furnished with nothing besides an altar at the far end and pillars that rose to the roof, apparently with the sole purpose of enshrining another enormous door. Halfway across the creepily empty space, I noticed that each of the pillars was made of another conquered god.
I cursed under my breath. A few of them were unlike anything I’d ever seen before—or anything I could comprehend. They were ancient, ornate behemoths, frozen in the moments of their demise. One was missing its left eye.
“He killed all of these,” I said softly, unable to suppress the automatic rush of awe.
He has made them a part of his soul, Marcus said. They are dead and yet they live in him.
The thought of so many stolen souls locked up in Delano’s body made my stomach do a barrel roll. The corpse-pillars lined both sides of the center, all the way to that door. As I stared at it and wondered where it might lead, it opened. I half expected a decoy or an extended lead-up, but there was absolutely no mistaking the man—the myth, the legend.
I grimaced. “Someone’s been busy.”
Delano stepped down from the elevated threshold he had just crossed and onto the altar’s gleaming platform. The portal boomed shut behind him and its impact reverberated through the stillness. The changes
in his form were apparent despite the distance. He had attained Beleza’s bronzed skin and some of his tone and height and a bright, baleful jewel glittered in the hollow between his eyes. A slender, whip-like tail curled around the backs of his legs and ended in a brutal barb. The pale eyes he’d always had now revealed slit pupils. His wings folded along the curve of his spine.
Neither of us said a word but our gazes locked. The air grew frosty, along with my mood. I already itched to be done with him.
“Game over, Delano,” I said and raised my voice to be heard at the other end of the hall. “You bought as much time as you could, and I’ll admit, it was a lot. But it’s running out now. You’re down to minutes. Soon, it’ll be seconds. And then, you’ll be finished for good. I’ve come to tie up Kronin’s last loose end.”
Delano smiled. “Brave words,” he said. “From a stupid woman.” He ambled slowly toward me and talked all the while. “I waited so long for you to understand, Vic, and still, you won’t oblige me. Allow me to enlighten you now that we’re here, face to face at last. Humans are weak. They are frail, breakable, and full of little more than blood and water. I have seen human bones ground into dust, their skin flayed off and left to dry as hide in the wind.”
“So humans are weak, which means we deserve to die?” I asked.
He laughed. “It means you’re irrelevant to my plans. I am stronger than any god who has traversed any earth. I am the sum of all that is mighty. The end of the world for many. And the sole reward for standing in defiance of such power is suffering the likes of which you cannot hope to imagine.”
His smile expanded into a grin. “But there is another way,” he said. “For I am a merciful lord and master. Follow me as you followed the coward Kronin into the futile darkness that now encompasses your planet. Fall to your knees and surrender. Offer supplication like all the others before you, and you will see that Kronin was but a speck of dust. I have become everything.”
I scowled. “Here’s something I learned a long time ago, dick-face. All gods can die. And you still don’t have this.” The Gladius Solis slipped into my hand and blazed to life. “It’s a power you’ll never be able to master.”
