Chapter Ten

 

 

Karni's private quarters were thankfully rat-free and also quite beautiful. Moonlight filtered in through the cut stonework in the ceiling, although the numerous lights within drowned it out. Still, the stars could be seen through the intricate panels; adding yet another layer of serenity to the sanctuary of velvet-upholstered furniture, copper pots filled with tropical plants, and silk carpets. The gentle sound of a gurgling fountain and the scent of spicy tea completed the ambiance.

Karni and Teharon sat in the middle of this peaceful paradise with a blue man. Not a member from that drum-pounding, alienesque performance group; this blue man was much paler and far more attractive. You wouldn't think that blue would work as a skin color, but when it was so pale that it almost became a glow, it did. The soft waves of blue-black hair curling over his slim shoulders and his gentle eyes surrounded by thick lashes didn't hurt either. He was dressed in a cloth that wrapped around his lower half and between his legs—making it into loose pants—with a golden belt holding it on; his trim waist and solidly-slim chest bare. He wore no shoes or other adornments; the perfect picture of a Hindu god relaxing at home. He stood and smiled warmly at us.

“Everyone, this is Krishna, God of Compassion, Tenderness, and Love,” Karni Mata introduced him.

Then Karni introduced us; going through the round of names that took forever. As she rattled off each god in our Squad—a few of whom were already familiar with Krishna—I considered the Hindu god. He was another love deity, so I should have felt a connection to him, but I didn't. All I felt was comfortable; he just seemed like a really nice guy. When you thought about him being the first god to attempt to share Atlantean advances openly with the human race, it became a certainty. Krishna's magic suited him. I still couldn't figure out why my love magic wasn't recognizing his, though.

“You have a question in your eyes, Godhunter,” Krishna noted as we all settled into our seats.

Teharon had navigated Karni as far away from Krishna as possible. I, however, sat right across from him.

“You're a god of love,” I began, and my men shifted nervously. “But I don't feel any...”

“Bond with me?” Krishna asked with a mischievous smile.

“Exactly.”

“I wove a ward around my magic long ago,” Krishna went grim as he spoke. “I saw too many of my brothers and sisters in Love turn their magic into something I didn't approve of, and I didn't want my magic tainted by theirs. From what I've heard of you, however, you have brought Aphrodite's magic back to its true form. I applaud you for that. But you are a rare goddess.”

“I'm not entirely a goddess,” I said with a smile.

“Just so.” He nodded serenely. “That may be your saving grace.”

“My wife has recently had some trouble with another god of love,” Trevor leaned forward to say. “Having a ward around her magic would have been helpful. Can you teach her how to cast one?”

“I don't believe so,” Krishna said sadly. “My ward took years to cast and the undertaking was strenuous. Magic—like anything else—does not wish to be cut off from its family. The result is akin to removing a spider from its web; it will only build new threads.”

“Your magic constantly challenges the ward,” I concluded.

“Yes.” He nodded. “And that is difficult to do with my three branches of love-related magic to protect. It requires an hour of meditation each day. But for someone like you—with multiple interwoven magics—it would be nearly impossible.”

“You know about my magics?” I lifted a brow.

“A god in hiding is not as cut-off from the world as a human would be.” Krishna shrugged. “I leave when I like; I'm just careful to not draw attention to myself. And Karni Mata brings me lots of stories to entertain me.”

Teharon cleared his throat.

“Yes, she's told me all about you as well, Teharon,” Krishna said with a smile. “I find it fascinating that she gravitates toward compassionate men. It says a lot about her.”

“Like attracts like,” I noted.

“Yes; but they also say that opposites attract.” Krishna held his hands out to his sides. “The heart cannot be fathomed; it goes where it will.”

“So true,” I whispered with a look toward my husbands.

“But you are not here to socialize,” Krishna said. “Karni has told me you would like to speak to me about Dvārakā.”

“Yes, we believe that someone is trying to either raise the city or raid it for magical devices,” Thor said. “We'd like to put a stop to that.”

“Who is doing this?” Krishna asked with horror.

“We don't know,” Odin said grimly. “But they've found the hydraulic lifts beneath the city's foundation.”

“No!” Krishna stood angrily. “I hid them so well.”

“We have just come from the city; where we walked through the cavern of metal lifts,” I said gently. “It's true; someone has found the foundation. We were hoping that you would tell us where the Control Room is so we could disable the lifts.”

Krishna sat back heavily and lowered his gaze to the floor. We gave him a moment to process everything; just waiting patiently for his response.

“No,” he finally said.

“No?” Thor asked in confusion. “Why not?”

“One thing I love to do is watch movies.” Krishna smiled softly. “And I can't help but apply this situation to similar ones I've seen in films. The villains are after some elusive prize, and the heroes must find the treasure to protect it. Whenever I watch these movies, it becomes apparent to me that had the heroes done nothing, the treasure would have remained safe. It is always the intercession of well-meaning people that put the item into danger, and often, into the very hands of the worst sort of people.”

“Harry Potter,” I whispered.

“Yes!” Krishna pointed to me. “If the children had left the Philosopher's Stone alone, Voldemort would never have been able to touch it. He would have gotten all the way to the mirror, and then failed. They went through all of that for nothing, and in fact, ruined a perfectly good hiding place.”

“Fair enough,” I agreed. “But here's the thing, Krishna; you thought that no one could find the foundation, and they did. What makes you so certain that they won't find the Control Room?”

Krishna smiled wickedly. “Trust me, Lady Vervain; even if they do find the room, they will not be able to access it. Only someone with the ability to see the truth can enter the room.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Macaria huffed. “We're gods; we all see the truth.”

“No, you don't,” Krishna said smugly. “Gods are the worst at seeing truth. We live in a world of falsehoods; the greatest of which is our divinity. We have spent so much time and effort convincing humans of our godhood, that now we believe our own lies. We took sacrifice as gods and then we used it to weave our magic throughout the realms and live in the false existence it created.” He paused to consider us. “How many of you have transformed items in your territory?”

We looked warily at each other.

“But when I transform items, they actually become the thing I change it into,” I reasoned.

“Oh, yes; they seem to, don't they?” Krishna asked cheerfully. “But are they really?”

“So, you're saying that if I change a spoon into an Xbox, no matter how many games that Xbox plays, it's still a spoon?” I asked dubiously.

“No, Godhunter,” Krishna said gravely. “I'm saying that it was never a spoon to begin with. It is all an illusion.”

My jaw dropped. Macaria made an exploding motion with her fingers around her head as she made the accompanying sound of explosion; mind blown. Yeah; no kidding.

“There is no spoon,” I whispered.

Krishna laughed uproariously and slapped his blue thigh. “Just so, Godhunter; just so. We are going to get along famously.”

“So, you've laid god-traps in the Control Room,” Hades murmured. “But what if they're not after the controls?”

“What else would they be after?” Krishna asked in surprise.

“Machinery,” Thor said. “Powerful equipment.”

“I left no machines in Dvārakā,” Krishna assured us. “The city itself was the only piece of Atlantean technology that I couldn't remove. It has weapons built into it, but they cannot be taken. I assure you; there is no technology to steal and the weaponry is useless beneath the ocean.”

“And what if you're wrong?” Horus asked. “What if they are able to see true and raise the city?”

“Then the human world will have one hell of a wake-up call.” Krishna smirked. “Dvārakā was so grand that I couldn't hide it completely; I had to mask it beneath an illusion of ruins. But if the controls were accessed, and the city lifted, the illusion would fall away, and the true city would be revealed.”

“Again with the illusions,” I noted.

“The ruin-mask was a solution our pantheon came up with,” Brahma said.

“I simply took inspiration from it to protect the Control Room,” Krishna added.

“Let's hope that your illusions are stronger than those that inspired you,” Thor rumbled.

“If they're not, the Earth shall know the grandeur of the gods once again,” Krishna said softly.