The Forgotten Gods, page 16
part #25 of The Network Series Series
Two demigods flanked him, legs braced. The fourth remained back. They moved like trained Guardians, ready to pounce on the next objective. Neel tilted his head back and drew in a deep breath, as if testing the air.
A coy smile wrapped his lips.
“They say you can understand us,” he called. “That you speak Alaysian through the power of god magic.”
I tightened my grip on Ava’s shoulder in a silent command not to say a word. Papa would tell me that confidence was the sharpest weapon and caused the deepest wound. Thinking of him gave me another burst of courage.
“Correct,” I called.
“Your name is Bianca?”
“What is yours?”
He grinned and gave a flourishing bow. “Neel.”
Distant thunder filled the pause that came next. Neel’s studious gaze tapered as he straightened. “How powerful are you, living-amulet-Bianca, the amulet-breaker and Lady-witch of Alkarra?”
“More powerful than you.”
Ignis chuckled in my ear.
You do delight me.
Neel shuffled forward, one eye tapered in thought. With every step, my god magic expanded. It pressed against the walls of my veins, held in only by willpower.
In a thought, I sent all the mortals in this collection to the beach house. Ava left with them. Her warm body disappeared beneath my hand. She’d be upset that I didn’t keep her at my side, but they needed her help.
And I needed her to be safe.
My body burned in response to the magic, likely from so prodigious an act. Bram’s amulet had limits back in Alkarra.
“What limits would a living amulet have?” I whispered.
This, Ignis murmured, is what we shall test today. Hold nothing back, Lady-witch of mine. You have my trust.
The four demigods stiffened.
I smiled.
With a subtle shift, I canted my body to the side, my right leg braced back. Viveet appeared in my right hand, brought from Alkarra by sheer instinct. The relief of her in my palm gave me a delicious zing of power.
Only a weak flare of goddess magic illuminated her shaft. No warmth or friendly fire burst to life—but the metal of her hilt in my hands was comfort enough.
I crouched.
Neel’s eyes widened.
The two in the back whispered, but I couldn’t hear. Their eyes darted around. They made plans.
“What are they saying?” I murmured. Neel tilted his head to the side, a hand on his chin, as if assessing what to do with me next. Removing the mortals would have changed their plan. They didn’t know where I sent them, so he’d have to recalculate.
A plan to flank you. The one in the back is watching for Baxter. Neel is to distract you so they can attack and return you to Tontes.
Baxter.
Why would he be here?
“A sword?” Neel finally called, arms spread open. “Are you so ready for a fight, Lady-witch, that you would pull a weapon on those who come in peace? We only wanted to meet you.”
“Right. You’re showing up with a storm like that for a tea party?”
Neel chuckled.
“We don’t drink tea here. That’s weak, for mortals.”
The demigod on Neel’s left disappeared. Instinct more than thought propelled me to spin to my left, sword extended. These were tactical foes. They’d know that my right side was weakest, because of the way I stood.
The demigod appeared, as anticipated, on my right. Propelled with the momentum of my counter-turn, Viveet sank into his fleshy side. He howled, his fine-boned features twisted in agony. Blood spurted from the filleted skin near his ribcage, spraying into the sand.
He disappeared.
His reddish-but-strangely-silver demigod blood stained Viveet’s metal as I faced Neel again, back in guard. Ignis laughed, a cackle of pure glee.
Neel frowned.
The demigods blinked out of view at the same time.
Give me speed, I commanded.
It is yours.
Instinct took over.
Only a shift of sand preceded an attack at my back. Propelled by god magic and at an impossible speed, I shoved Viveet behind me. She tucked under my arm, next to the left side of my ribcage, and jabbed at the closest body back there. A grunt followed. I held her stable with my left arm, whirled around using the same momentum, and swung my right hand in a fist.
Bright, green eyes met mine a second before I smashed his nose. The demigod crumpled, unconscious. He disappeared, likely sent away by Neel.
Two demigods remained.
A third attack came on my right. I magicked myself out of reach, landing behind him. My right arm slipped across his throat as Viveet shrank with god magic, no larger than a hand knife. She pressed into the skin along the right side of his throat. My legs wrapped his torso as I snaked my left arm under his armpit, anchoring Viveet. It all happened inexplicably fast. What might take three seconds in Alkarra was only one second here.
The demigod grabbed my arms and ducked, attempting to flip me on my back. With a surge of magic, I twisted, interrupting his momentum. We toppled to the sand, breaking apart.
I jumped, gaining both feet.
Viveet returned to her natural size as I swept her off the sand and dropped back into a crouch. Blood smeared the neck of the demigod nearest me. He scowled, nostrils flared. Slowly, the blood faded. The cut healed.
Not a gash remained.
Power infused me, enveloping every muscle in my body. This heady feeling. The indomitability of god magic. It buoyed me up, billowing unbelievably hot. No fear of these demigods followed. Why would I be frightened of them? With this power, I could do anything.
Neel peered at me, as if he sensed the shift. Finally, I could feel some of what Ignis meant. The extent of our ability to fight together. The force of it swelled within, pushing out thoughts of anything else.
Grinning, I beckoned with a curl of my fingers.
The other demigod disappeared.
Neel lifted both hands. “You prove yourself,” he called. “We shall only ask questions, if you insist on violence.”
“You surround women to question them, do you? Yes, I’ve heard of your kind of interrogations. Not for this Lady-witch.”
A hint of Baxter’s arrogance showed in Neel’s growing smile. Something dark curled away inside me at the thought.
Demigods.
Monilay mal.
I saw it now.
Not all of them are bad, my heart whispered, Baxter’s face coming to mind. Not all.
“We have questions.” Neel shrugged. “That’s all. If we agree to stay on this side of the beach, will you answer them?”
“No.”
I edged back. Where is the other one? I asked Ignis, glancing to both sides. In the distance, the storm surged. Mountainous waves. Ebony clouds. Near-constant grumblings from the sky.
He is not here anymore, Ignis said.
Can he still attack?
Yes, from elsewhere. They must know I am tracking this area. I will sense him when he appears. Neel may have a plan to position you somehow so the other demigod can return without warning.
“Then what do you desire?” Neel called to my silence.
“That you leave and never come back to this collection.”
Neel laughed, doubled over. A maniacal edge colored his forced hilarity. He stopped, face firm as diamond edges now. No amusement lingered, only flinty eyes and a stony press of lips.
“I don’t take orders from anyone but my Father.”
“Then we are at an impasse.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “The deference was a mere formality. We take by force what isn’t given willingly.”
I smiled.
“Same.”
A quick blink preceded a pause. Such hesitation was an opportunity. Magic, Papa whispered from the depths of memory in his usual calm way, is only as good as the surprise in which you create with it.
Regardless of the confusing emotions I held around Papa these days, I leaned gratefully into his lessons now.
Shallow and thin as a pencil, a trench raced through the sand between me and Neel. The line extended past me, around him. The subtle shifting of grains didn’t draw his gaze at first, neither did the bright, red powder that followed, unnoticeable in the dim light. Ground cayenne pepper and yellow hellfire pepper from the West, plus a smidge of a few other ingredients Merrick had once shared with me.
All of it commanded in an instant.
Neel’s posture changed. He sank a little into his legs, bracing himself. I lifted Viveet higher.
No sign of the other one, Ignis murmured, anticipating my thought. As a battle companion, he was ideal.
“Alkarra is a very different place, no?” Neel asked, inching closer. His gaze darted over me, assessing. He mapped out a quick attack. I shifted to the left, forcing his plan to change. He sidestepped to the right, eyeing me.
Three steps until he touched the trench.
“Quite different.”
“Are you enjoying your stay in Alaysia?”
“Immensely. The hospitality has been delightful.”
A crash of thunder broke the sky.
“You are not in Alkarra anymore, Lady-witch,” he screamed over the ruckus. “You are in Alaysia, and my Father makes the rules here!”
One step.
The god magic required by my plan ballooned in my chest when Neel’s foot stepped on the powder, just the way I intended.
Light exploded.
Neel wheeled through the air, thrown back like a rag doll. Sand sprayed out, sharp and painful against my skin. Heat and granules followed, booming. Neel slammed into the surf with another reverberation of prickly thunder overhead.
I brushed the sand out of my eyes.
Snarling, Neel strode out of the waves. Burns reddened his skin, like the top layer had been peeled off. Blood poured down his body. Grains of sand thickened his hair, swept away from his face.
Two steps out of the water, he collapsed.
Wind gusted by, flapping my dress. The broiling storm slipped overhead, casting the world in darkness. Neel held himself in the surf, arms braced. Salt water against the open skin couldn’t feel good. The peals of thunder felt as if the entire world had been grabbed and shaken, like a child’s toy.
Rain appeared all at once, like Tontes had poured a bucket. It drenched the world, sluicing in raw sheets. Scattered drops pinged across Viveet’s blade.
“Go back to your father,” I shouted, “and tell him to leave me alone. He can’t have me.”
Neel challenged me with glittering eyes.
“Make me.”
Step back, Ignis whispered, and crouch.
I obeyed.
Two demigods appeared the next instant, hurling themselves at the spot where I stood. One demigod crashed into the other where my head would have been. They groaned, petaling to different sides. One lolled in unconsciousness—again. The other moaned, hand pressed to his head.
I chuckled and stepped back, eyes on Neel. The relentless crash of thunder, streaking lightning, pounding surf issued through the torrential rain. I pointed Viveet at him.
“Next time,” I hissed, “you won’t finish this fight alive, just like Bram, Jote, and Mordecai. I am not only the amulet-breaker, but the Lady-witch of Alkarra. You should fear me.”
A whirlwind of fire swept me away.
CHAPTER 15
Tontes’ nefarious storm darkened the sky and agitated the ocean, but a walled garden of what could only be the Rostina lu Lune protected me. Busy stacks of turrets, parapets, battlements, and guard houses populated endlessly behind each other. Like a child crowding all its toys together. Greater height, width, size continued to unfold. It sprawled so endlessly.
I pressed my back to the closest wall, slid down, and closed my eyes.
Close call.
My body settled, my thudding heart slowed. Sand had gathered in my mouth during the fight. I struggled to swallow as I wiped the gritty granules off my cheeks and out of the corners of my lips. Viveet lay inert at my side. After several moments of debate over whether I should keep her, or send her back to Alkarra, I sent her back. Safer there. With god magic, she was easy enough to pull to my side when needed.
The momentary isolation was a welcome opportunity to pull myself back together, though I had no idea why I’d brought myself here of all places.
I tilted my head back to study the space.
Leaves shivered as wind stirred the world like a giant pot. The towering walls of the garden buffeted the currents into a calm oasis. Lights from the Rostina revealed hints of life inside. Bowls of burning sand. A torch in a window. Shadows as someone shifted past. Mats of leaves covered open doorways, tacked at the bottom corners to prevent rain.
Through the doorway to this garden, I could just see an utterly still area, not unlike the baileys back at Chatham Castle. This space lay open to the sea, elevated to afford a view of the surf. Water fountains sparkled as they tossed droplets into the air. Benches, pots of white-and-gray flowers, and fence-like walls surrounded it. Twisting spears of sand adorned every few paces.
Across the way, an open tunnel occupied most of the view. It was wide enough to admit three carriages abreast and soared hundreds of paces overhead, funneling farther into the gigantic castle. Lights flickered down the tunnel, illuminating the darkness with bursts of white. Other doorways branched into unknown places, undoubtedly deeper into the belly of this slumbering giant. The inky depths of the hole swallowed my thoughts.
Given the opportunity to go into that tunnel, I’d wager that a set of glimmering, golden doors could be found.
Why, I asked Ignis, am I here?
A whisper scurried by, but it wasn’t Ignis.
Approach me.
Ventis.
A weak surge of annoyance rippled through me. The last thing I wanted to do now was speak to another god.
“What?” I whispered.
Approach me.
One truth had become abundantly clear: the gods and goddesses toyed with me, little else.
Ventis invited me to Alaysia, then took his sweet time meeting with me. No time together had surfaced—nor promise of any. He kept Baxter busy and isolated and buried in obligations. Ignis set me up to fight the sons of Tontes without warning, and Tontes wanted me as his slave. Only Gelas posed no perceived threat, which made me more nervous than all the rest. Why was he so quiet in the northern Icelands?
Meanwhile, demigods threatened my life. One god had become my sort-of-ally and another my enemy, all while mortals looked to me as a savior.
Today, Ventis had undoubtedly observed my ability with god magic at Ava’s collection. Now he wanted me, too. A dawning realization crept through my mind. Who had the power here? Not the gods. Not the demigods. Not even the witches.
I held the power.
It was time for me to use it.
“No, thank you,” I said mildly, clapping the sand off my palms. I stood, yawning. “I’m rather tired today.”
All the wind in the garden ceased. A gentle pall, like shock, hung in the air. Thunder crashed over the distant ocean. In the passing moments, my body had relaxed enough for me to feel the pain of battle. A groan issued from me when I remembered Ava and the mortals.
They needed to return to their collection and get settled back on their islands. First, I would apologize for using magic on them without permission. Doing so might have saved them, but still . . .
I stood to leave, then stopped.
Two figures crossed the open area outside the garden. Gio, for certain. Wind ruffled his salt-and-pepper hair as it gusted by. His calm expression gave nothing away, despite the wild gesturing of the demigod next to him.
Flaming red hair, kinky on her shoulders. Pale, freckled skin.
Tipa.
Daughter of Gelas, and the demigod that helped me out of the sticky situation at the Golden Guinea Hen during the uprising. Gio lifted a lazy eyebrow, then nodded to something she said. Tipa stepped back and tossed her hands in the air.
“Fine!” she cried. “I’ll find her myself. This is ridiculous.”
“The Lady-witch is here.”
Gio turned, gaze piercing right into me. Tipa whirled, peered at me through narrowed eyes, and let out a long sigh. She muttered something, stalked closer, and left Gio without another word.
Amused, Gio faded back, toward a side door.
Grim-faced, Tipa approached. She grabbed my arm. “Come, I shouldn’t be here. Let’s go somewhere else.”
We didn’t speak until the Rostina lay far behind us.
The storm tempered into sheets of rain and a slate mat. Drizzle splattered the top of the ocean like falling needles. Halfway to the beach house, Tipa’s pace slowed, then stopped. I braced myself.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
She frowned. Drenched strands of hair lay flat against her head, trailing in wet ropes to her shoulders. Water trickled down the side of her neck. “My father sent me to check on you.”
“Because of the storm?”
She eyed overhead, then nodded. Her brow arched as she studied me. “You seem hale enough.”
“I managed.”
“What happened?”
“Four of Tontes’ sons approached me. They wanted to take me back to Tontes.”
Her lips pursed in thought. “Did they hurt you?”
“They tried.”
“And you stopped them?”
I held out my arms, silently saying I’m here, aren’t I?
She lifted an eyebrow. “Good. They could use a knockdown from a witch, though Tontes will be surly for days. Expect flooding. Sorry I came too late. I couldn’t find you. Your mortal said that—“
“Ava is not my mortal.”
Tipa rolled her eyes. “Whatever. The girl. She said you were at her collection. By the time I arrived there, no one remained. Did you send all those mortals over here?”
“Yes.”
Astonishment filled her voice. “Why?”
“To protect them.”
She studied me like something she couldn’t quite figure out. I wanted to like Tipa, but something held me back. I couldn’t really understand what she thought, or where she stood, in relation to witches and demigods.
