Trinity: Feathers and Fire Book 9

by Shayne Silvers

  I landed beside Gunnar and released my wings and gauntlets. The massive golden wolf’s mask studied my back and then grumbled unhappily, annoyed that he didn’t have wings. I shrugged. “Should have picked a better mask, Fido.”

  He snorted, tucking Mjolnir back into his belt. Then he pointed off to our right. Apollo was crawling away, unable to use his legs. Alucard followed him, occasionally slashing the god’s back with his fiery finger whips, urging him onward towards his still motionless brother. Glancing around, I let out a sigh and tugged off my Mask. I expected a full-body shut down of exhaustion, but instead I just felt like I’d had a good long run. I tucked my mask into my pocket and grinned. Gunnar took off his mask and let out a tired breath, shaking his head.

  “That’s…not so bad, actually,” he growled in a parched voice. “I expected to feel a lot worse.”

  Alucard had herded Apollo next to his brother, and I saw Pandora and lava guy leading Aphrodite and a tall, burly man towards us. Alucard took off his mask and slipped it into his pocket. A perk of the Horseman form was that none of us needed a change of clothes after such extreme transformations—even Gunnar, who was used to such chores.

  “We did it, guys,” I said, patting them each on the back.

  Alucard grinned proudly. “Now what?”

  The three of us turned to look towards the sky where I had last seen Nate. “I can still sense him out there, but he’s far away,” Gunnar said, softly, sounding concerned.

  “Then we wait,” I said. “Make sure these idiots don’t do anything stupid.”

  51

  The last hour had been ridiculously uneventful. The three of us Horsemen had kept a firm eye on Ares and Apollo, who now sat in a corner, humiliated, not daring to attempt an escape. Apollo couldn’t have run anywhere if his life had depended on it, and Ares looked a little concussed.

  But we remained vigilant, standing guard over them. Pandora had introduced the lava guy as Prometheus, the freaking Titan. He’d been entirely antisocial after his failed attempts to defeat Zeus, and had opted to go sit on the edge of the pavilion, hanging his legs from the ledge as he lit up a cigar. I was still struggling to process the fact that he was here, hanging out with us. One of Zeus’ most infamous prisoners, sentenced to thousands of years of torture for the crime of giving mankind fire. For such a benevolent guy, he sure wasn’t interested in befriending us Freaks.

  Pandora and Hephaestus loomed over Aphrodite, who was kneeling on the ground with her own set of Titan Thorns that Hephaestus himself had placed on her wrists. He was a tall, stoic man, and his knuckles calluses had calluses. One of those rugged, say little, do a lot, types who are often found in the Midwest. Those grouchy bastards you couldn’t help but love. But he doted on Pandora, keeping her close and smiling at her every time she wasn’t looking at him.

  I thought about asking for his help with the forges at Castle Dracula, in using the Eternal Metal for weapons, about a dozen times. Hell, Aphrodite had all but begged me to get to work on it, and the blacksmith god was her husband. But the tension between them was palpable. He’d put her in Titan Thorns which meant there wasn’t a whole lot of trust at the moment, so I chose to leave it alone.

  All was relatively calm as we waited to hear from the last member of the Dread Four. The earlier rain had washed away a lot of the mist, but the pavilion was still thick with it, looking more like a haunted cemetery with the black and red clouds blanketing the skies both above and below us. I sensed Nate approaching through our Horseman bond and let out an internal sigh of relief that was echoed by Gunnar and Alucard on either side of me.

  He’d gone after Zeus, after all, the most powerful Olympian ever—the god who had managed to defeat and imprison the infamous Titans. I very pointedly did not look at Prometheus. One man, even Nate, stood long odds against Zeus. He had killed Athena, but could anyone really kill Zeus? Was that even possible? I stared up at the stormy sky, realizing the crimson lightning seemed to be moving away from us, the thunder changing to more of a sleepy growl as it retreated.

  Through that darkness, I saw Grimm emerge. He tucked in his shadow wings and plummeted to the pavilion, landing in the thickest section of mist that had stubbornly refused to dissipate. He practically disappeared in the thick fog, and I hadn’t been able to verify the faces of his riders.

  Ares and Apollo stared, hopefully, at the new arrival, licking their lips nervously. We all watched in utter silence as Zeus’ head rose up out of the fog. My breath froze. Wait…

  Did that mean Zeus had won? Had he imprisoned Nate like we’d imprisoned the three Olympians. “Zeus lives! Father lives!” Apollo shrieked, sensing his imminent salvation.

  Salvation did not answer the sun god.

  Grimm’s voice drifted out from the fog with a malevolent chuckle. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, sunshine. I ain’t yer daddy,” the unicorn said, exiting the mist at a steady walk to reveal that Zeus was definitely not here to save his sons.

  Zeus’ severed head was impaled on Grimm’s freaking horn. That’s why we’d seen it first. He’d been mounted like a hunting trophy.

  Everyone gasped, either in horror or shock. I stared, shaking my head in disbelief. Zeus…the Father of the Olympians…was dead. Really dead.

  Nate had killed one of the most infamous gods in ancient mythology, and then he’d propped the head onto his unicorn’s horn, forever ruining the peaceful, magical, benevolent tropes about unicorns that children all around the world held as truth. Grimm crapped on gods, murdered rainbows, cursed like a drunken sailor, and—

  I gasped. He really did have a Rainbownatti resistance tattoo on his rump! Phix hadn’t been lying. Did Nate know about this insane conspiracy? Someone needed to nip that in the bud before it got out of hand.

  Nate hopped down from Grimm’s back and held out a hand to help Kára down. He held a gnarly pale staff in one hand that looked like an aged piece of driftwood, but the smoking crystal at the top and the glowing runes down its sides told me it was much, much more.

  He swept his gaze over us, assessing the situation, but his attention locked onto the wallflower Titan with a thoughtful frown. He leaned over to Kára and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and then trotted over to us, her boots crunching the remaining pulverized skeletal remains like dried twigs. Of course, Nate made sure to watch her departure, smiling like a big idiot. Then he made his way over to Prometheus, squatting down on his heels beside the Titan.

  Kára took one look at the fallen Olympians, laughed, and then swatted me on the ass with a giddy giggle, making my eyes bulge. “Tell me everything. I want to hear about every whimper,” she said, her eyes twinkling with merriment.

  I found myself smiling back as I told her about the fight. Gunnar and Alucard even momentarily forgot about their fear of the Valkyrie and added in their own favorite parts. We were laughing about the bizarre battle back and forth, much to the shame of Ares and Apollo, when I saw Nate approaching out of the corner of my eye.

  Nate eyed us up and down as he spent a few moments patting our shoulders and arms as if looking for the wounds he assumed we were hiding. I’ll admit that I wanted to do the same with him, verifying he wasn’t hiding a severe injury or gaping cut. All in all, it showed how nervous he had been for us. How much he cared. “Everyone all right?”

  Gunnar rolled his eye at his childhood friend, looking amused. “Stop mothering us, Nate. It was fun,” he said. Alucard wore a smug grin, staring down Apollo and making the Olympian fidget nervously.

  I smiled. “No problems, and it was fun,” I agreed, catching Gunnar’s infectious grin. “We made a great team, right Ares?” I asked, taunting the god of war. He clenched his jaw, angrily, but he didn’t have the balls to meet my eyes. In fact, by the way he was sitting, he might have lost one or two in our fight.

  Nate turned to address Pandora and her dad. “Lord Hephaestus, I presume?” he asked, politely, before making his way over. I hadn’t realized he’d never met the blacksmith god before. I bi
ded my time, listening for an opportunity to acquire his services at Castle Dracula or at least plant the seeds for a future discussion. The Omega War was coming, and it was in all our best interests for me to fire up the forges to start crafting weapons with Darling and Dear.

  “You must be the Master Temple my daughter keeps raving about. Sorry, I’ve been a little out of touch with current events,” Hephaestus said, rubbing at the pale band of flesh around each of his wrists—evidence that he’d worn cuffs for a very, very long time. The two of them spoke back and forth for a bit, but I found my thoughts drifting to Ryuu. The fight was over and I wanted to see him. Now.

  Aphrodite’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. She hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the cells with her new Titan Thorns. “You helped me right a wrong,” she said calmly, speaking to Nate. “Thank you.”

  Hephaestus pointed at Aphrodite’s wrists. “I slapped some new Titan Thorns on—and the key is not love, like the ones you wore. Pandora implied—very strongly—that I needed your permission to deal with my wife,” he growled at Nate, territorially.

  Pandora rolled her eyes. “Father,” she said in an embarrassed tone. Hephaestus smirked faintly at the victory of embarrassing his daughter. Dad win.

  Nate seemed distracted, studying Aphrodite in deep thought. “Can you give me a few minutes, Lord Hephaestus? There is a lot more to the situation than meets the eye, and I would hate to make a hasty, emotional decision. Tempers are high tonight.”

  Hephaestus straightened at Nate’s formal tone. “As you wish…Master Temple,” he added, looking surprised he’d added the last part. He watched Nate turn and approach the rest of his Dread Four.

  He swiftly and succinctly told us about his own battle, giving us only the highlights. He’d executed Zeus in front of several big-league Olympians and Asgardians, including the elusive Hermes. In an effort to cool concerns, Nate had made an agreement that, essentially, the Dread Four were going to be the universal policemen of the various pantheons. We did not want to start picking off gods, but we had no problem doing it if they crossed a line. He’d created the staff he now held, using Odin’s Devourer, to form a truce between Asgard and Olympus. A pact to remain united for the upcoming Omega War—which didn’t have a specific start date, so we were agreeing to something fairly generous.

  To that effect, he now needed us to swear not to go rogue and start picking off gods without legitimate cause. None of us had any problem with it, so we each sliced our hands and gripped the staff, repeating the oath after him.

  Once finished, we turned to address Ares and Apollo, who had heard everything we’d said and now looked absolutely horrified. Stunned silent. To hear they’d been ostracized…had broken them. They’d never believed that such a punishment could happen to gods like them. Which was the whole point of the Dread Four. To teach the gods about Hubris. After three seconds of Nate staring at them, they began begging for their lives, suddenly finding themselves in the position of mortals standing in judgment before gods.

  Gunnar calmly stared at them, his lone eye cold and pure.

  He turned to Alucard and me, drawing a line across his throat. “I’ve already killed a god, so they are yours if you want to claim them. Nate and I can handle it, if you do not want to,” he said in a neutral tone, not passing shame or judgment on either choice. I nodded my agreement, not even feeling a flicker of doubt in my mind. I knew what they had done to Nate for a solid week. I knew Nate wanted nothing more than to do it himself, with his bare hands. He was giving us a gift that he himself had earned. I felt honored.

  Alucard stepped up to Apollo…

  I stepped up to Ares…

  And…we killed them. If it mattered, I used my katana and Alucard used fire, each of us obliterating their beating hearts. We turned to each other and nodded. I saw no shame or guilt in his eyes, and I knew he saw none in mine. Instead, it only served to bring us closer together.

  As they died, their souls flew through the air and struck the crystal atop Nate’s staff, illuminating it with red and white light before it grew dim again. Aphrodite let out a sharp breath, assuming it was her turn next.

  52

  Nate and Kára made their way over to Aphrodite, and I chose to involve myself in the situation, not knowing how I felt about the determined look in Nate’s eyes. The sudden anxiety I saw in Pandora’s eyes only made me more concerned.

  When the gal who just murdered an unarmed guy in cold blood is the voice of reason, someone made a bad decision a few miles back.

  Nate faced Hephaestus and dipped his chin. “Thank you.”

  The god nodded solemnly. “They deserved worse,” he said in a low whisper. “Much worse.”

  Nate nodded, shifting his attention to Aphrodite with a calculating look on his face. The threat was obvious. Did she deserve the same fate as her brothers? Personally, I didn’t think so, but I didn’t know everything she’d been involved in regarding St. Louis. She had definitely done more good than Ares and Apollo, but had she been involved in other crimes that I knew nothing about? She had obviously schemed with her brothers, but had she only done so to keep them preoccupied? Or had there been a more nefarious intent behind her little coup?

  She’d helped Nate find his heart’s true love in Kára, and she’d done the same for me. But more importantly, she’d risked everything for the chance to prevent her father from capturing Pandora. And not for personal gain. She’d done it to grant her husband freedom from Zeus’ tyrannical plans. To end Zeus’ threat of blackmail. And to reunite a father with his daughter.

  Nate finally cleared his throat, and I found myself holding my breath. “You should know that she did all this for you—even more than for her hatred for her father. You,” Nate said, looking at Pandora and Hephaestus, “were the catalysts who finally pushed her to act rather than remain silent. If Ares and Apollo hadn’t been working for her, they would’ve been working for Zeus. Either way, we would have fought them. And ended them. They would have likely died fighting, but dead all the same.” Pandora smiled sadly and Hephaestus looked torn, wrapping a protective arm around his daughter as he stared at his wife.

  “The crimes they committed were not at my request,” Aphrodite said, lifting her chin proudly. “I did the only thing I could to try and harness their cruelty to a better purpose. I merely distracted them with trying to steal Pandora’s Box before Zeus could. So that I could reunite my husband and his daughter. I accept your judgment.” She met Nate’s eyes with confidence. Then she did the same with Kára and finally me. “I can die with pride. I have accomplished more in the past week than the last millennia. Remember the good times,” she told us.

  Nate smirked, boyishly, glancing at Kára with a warm, appreciative smile. “Well, she changed my life,” he admitted. Kára smiled, nodding her agreement.

  “Me, too,” I piped in, recognizing a sudden opportunity. “I could…take her for a while. I know a safe place,” I explained. If I could become Aphrodite’s prison warden, a certain blacksmith god might find a need to swing by Solomon’s Temple for some conjugal rejuvenation with my prisoner. That might be pushing it, judging by the somber look on his face, but Hephaestus would definitely be more inclined to visit if Aphrodite were under my roof. And that might give me an opportunity to discuss Eternal Metal and the forges at Castle Dracula. If anyone knew how to work with Eternal Metal it would be Hephaestus.

  Aphrodite pursed her lips. “I would prefer a clean death.”

  I blinked, momentarily confused. Then it hit me. She’d misunderstood my suggestion—which was entirely logical since she’d just seen me murder her brother, Ares, without a lick of remorse. I shook my head and gave her a reassuring smile. “I was not implying torture. I think you might have more to teach me. Maybe some things I could teach you. About family. Perhaps love should not die this night,” I said, choosing my words very carefully in hopes they might resonate with both her and Hephaestus.

  My words hung heavy in the air, and everyone turned to look
at Aphrodite’s husband. I crossed my fingers. Literally.

  He finally nodded. “That could work.” He stared at his wife for a long while, looking torn. “I will need time to think on you, wife. I do not know if I trust you any longer. Perhaps, over time, I could try.”

  Pandora clutched her father’s hand with a hopeful nod. “We could try,” she corrected, smiling at her stepmother.

  A single tear fell from Aphrodite’s eye and she nodded, unable to voice her feelings. Then she stopped trying to hold up the world on her shoulders and, like a woman taking off her heels to walk home barefoot from a bar after last call, she gave up. She hung her head to her chest and softly wept, overcome with gratitude and hope for the future of a reunited family.

  Kára smiled, reaching out to grasp Nate’s hand.

  Okay. I was about finished with watching them love all over each other. I cleared my throat. “I can make a Gateway to Solomon’s Temple,” I explained, facing Pandora and Hephaestus. The temple leased space to Nate’s Armory—Pandora’s home—so it would be extremely convenient. I tried not to oversell it and sound desperate—although my anxiety and impatience were rapidly increasing as my thoughts began drifting to the problems currently waiting for me back home.

  Pandora grinned in understanding—knowing exactly how easy that would make the logistics for their future family get togethers—and nodded her agreement. I felt like I was Pandora’s co-conspirator in hooking the two Olympians back up. “You can stay with me in the Armory,” she told her dad. “We’ll be close enough to visit mother whenever we wish,” she said, eyeing Aphrodite. When Pandora voiced the word mother, Aphrodite’s breath caught, and then she began to sob even harder—a happier, messier cry.