Chapter Forty
“Marek!” I’m afraid. Afraid to see his body on the pavement below. Afraid he’s dead.
I step closer to the edge and look down.
The ladder got wedged between the buildings. There’s a body on the pavement. I stare at it until I realize the body on the pavement isn’t Marek, it’s the Risen. Marek hangs from a rung.
“Marek!”
“I’m okay,” he shouts, kicks his leg over another rung, and lifts himself. “There’s a window down here. I’m going to try and go through it. Meet me in the stairwell.”
“All right.” The ledge crumbles under my foot, and I slip. Strong arms grab me before I can fall over. When I’m steady on the roof, he releases me. I turn. “Pazuzu,” I say with all the terror sounding in my voice that I’m feeling right now.
“The Divinity’s Soul,” he commands.
“No.” I’m trapped. I glance over the edge. Marek is working to get the window open. Pazuzu can’t know he’s down there. Even though I’m terrified, I bring my gaze back to Pazuzu.
“Bastet isn’t here to protect you.” His head inclines as he studies me. “You, I will not harm, but I will break your companion’s neck.”
Marek? No.
The writhing bodies in the tar pit of his eyes convince me he means what he says.
I reach down and yank the lighter off my leg. The medical tape pulling from my skin stings. “What are you going to do to me?”
He just stares at me with those eyes holding so much torture.
The metal lighter is warm in my hand. I open it and remove the medallion. The death’s-head hawkmoth glints in the sun.
His fingers grasp it, and he tries to take it, but it won’t budge from my palm. He tries again. A growl escapes his lips twisted in a snarl.
“It is yours. You are afraid of me, yet you and I are the same,” he hisses.
“What is it?”
“When all the pieces of the Divinities Keep come together, the Soul connects them. One cannot live without a soul. After all receive their power back, and if the soul isn’t attached, by the next full moon, the immortals will die.”
“Can’t they just pull the pieces apart and stop it?”
“Once joined, the pieces will not separate again. When the time comes, it will be up to you to decide. Their fate is in your hands.”
“All gods and goddesses will suffer the same fate?” I inch to his left until my back isn’t pointing at the edge.
“Good or bad. They either live or die.”
“I can’t make that choice.”
The lava waves are building in his eyes. I want to look away, but I can’t.
“You’re evil.”
He regards me for a quick second. “My people both loved and feared me. I could bring my wrath when they weren’t good, and I could protect them against outsiders’ attacks. One is not entirely evil or entirely good. It just depends on what side your scale tips.”
“I don’t want this.”
“You haven’t a choice.”
He raises his hand, and the medallion heats on my palm. It flies back at me and hits my chest, throwing me on my back against the roof. I writhe in pain over the tiles. Suddenly I’m in the tar lake with all the tortured faces of Pazuzu. My arms flail, frantic to stay above the surface. The black liquid rises and falls in inky waves, trying to pull me under. High-pitched screams cut through the darkness, and I’m not sure if they are mine or theirs. My chest burns and I can’t breathe.
I want to give up. Let go. Go under the tar lake and sleep.
Just as suddenly as I was pulled in, I come out. I’m lying on my back on the tiles of the roof, looking up at Pazuzu. I’m no longer in pain, except for a scorching sensation in my chest. I strain to see it. There’s a circular burn in my white shirt.
“What did you do to me?” I ask, fingering the hole. There’s a bump, so I pull aside the shirt. The medallion is embedded in my chest just under the skin and above my heart, the gold outline of the moth visible.
“You are the Divinity’s Soul. It is easier to carry there than taped to your leg.”
Seven Risen land on the roof and stop.
I push myself up and stand. “Then is it over? Call off your Risen beasts. Leave us alone.”
Pazuzu gives the Risen a bored look. “These are not mine. I do not need to borrow from man to have my army.” He holds up both of his palms, and fire shoots out of them. The flames open, and horned creatures with sharp teeth hop out. The instant they hit the roof they grow to Pazuzu’s size and attack the Risen, tearing them to pieces.
At the first attack, I double over and throw up. I cover my eyes, only removing my hands when the noise stops. The demon creatures are gone, and the Risen are just burning heaps of flesh on the tiles.
“Pazuzu!” A fierce voice comes from the roof of the building next to the one we’re on.
It’s Ares, and he’s pissed.
“Those were mine,” he continues shouting. “You are forbidden to interfere in my wars.”
“Your beasts threatened me first.” Pazuzu throws his hand up, and a wall of fire blocks Ares from us. He turns to me. “You aren’t safe here. Return to your people.”
He bows before strolling off. I keep my eyes on him until he goes through the door, giving Pazuzu a good head start, so I’m not going down with him.
The wall starts to flicker, and I dash for the door.
There isn’t time for me to process what just happened. My mind is blank as I barge down the stairs. When I reach the fifth floor, I hear a pounding. Marek is trying to get the window open. I unlock it and let him in.
I wrap my arms around him. “I thought you—”
“I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.” He holds my hand, and we rush down and push out the door.
“There they are,” Lugh yells and runs for us.
Inanna and Bjorn follow.
When he reaches us, he doesn’t stop. “Come on. You need an invitation?”
“It’s Ares,” I tell him, trying to keep up with him. “He’s behind all this. The Risen.”
Inanna trots beside me, and I’m a little insulted by how easy it is for her to stay at my pace. I was always horrible at running track in gym class.
“I told you it was him, Lugh,” she says. “He loves a good war. You can be sure there are older immortals behind it. Powerful ones.”
“Them leeches are gaining on us,” Horus says.
I make the mistake of glancing back. Those creatures look like paranormal predators, hunched over with sharp teeth and fingers deformed to look like claws.
The Risen chase us a few blocks.
“They’re all over the place,” Bjorn says, the beating of feet in rhythm with his words.
Horus stops at a gate. He grabs the iron bars and shakes the gate once, then twice, and on the third time, it busts open. He waves us through.
I don’t stop. I’m not as fast as Inanna, she’s not exerting herself, but I stay on her heels. Marek keeps to my side. We’re in a vast garden with tall trees, sculpted bushes, a large pond, and early spring flowers all surrounding a large gazebo.
At a clearing in front of the greenhouse stand men and women, some I’ve met, others I haven’t. Gods and goddesses. They hold various weapons—modern and old. Oyá and Janus break from their line to flank Marek and me. I guess Oyá and Janus picked a side.
Lugh, Inanna, Bjorn, and Horus join the line.
More gods and goddesses approach and face us. Behind them, Shona’s father controls the beasts he brought back to life. His commands are garbled from where I stand. The beasts are like rabid dogs on a leash—clawed hands thrashing the air, teeth gnashing.
Our side doesn’t move. I want to run. We’re in a battle line.
The other side stops not even a half football field away. They’re armed, too. It’s a standoff. Like West Side Story but with immortals.
Shona’s father calls out orders to the couple of dozen or so Risen around him. The men and women must have been dead a while, because they are full-on beasts. Their faces distorted like feral cats, teeth and nails sharp, they look ready to pounce. To kill.
Lugh hands Marek a spiked club and me a dagger. “Stay out of the way. Don’t hesitate if you’re attacked. Strike. Immortals get hurt and take time to heal. Run before that happens. Got it?”
“Yes,” Marek says, testing the weight of the club in his hand.
The sky darkens, and a strong wind hits us. It whips my hair around with such force it stings my face. Oyá sends her hurricane, blocking the beasts’ path to us. Her swords materialize in her hands.
Oyá glances over at Marek and me. “Stay behind me.”
We don’t question it, we just do as she says.
A god on their side breaks the line, clouds rolling on his palms. Oyá waves us back.
“Get down.”
The god fires the swirling spheres, and the orbs hit Oyá’s hurricane, dispersing it until only rain falls on us. He returns to the line, a smug smile on his face.
“Who is that?” I ask, not expecting anyone to answer.
Oyá does. “Jupiter. A weather god. His powers returned at the same time as mine.”
“I hope Posedien is on our side,” Marek says.
“He is not,” Oyá says. “Lucky for us, he has no powers.”
It’s eerily quiet; neither side makes a sound. The only noises are of birds and engines coming from the street. There are no people in the garden. It must be between two or three in the afternoon, and no one is enjoying the gardens.
It happens so fast, I don’t have time to blink. Both sides charge at each other. Swords schling and bang together, and bullets fly. Fists hitting immortal flesh sound like thunder. Bodies crashing to the ground and sliding across the grass tear up the foliage.
Marek grasps my hand. “Come on. It’s too dangerous here.”
“No. She told us to stay behind her.” I push the wet hair out of my face.
“He’s right,” Oyá says over her shoulder. “They’ve brought guns to an immortal fight. Bullets only injure immortals. Slow us down so one of those beasts can catch us. It will most definitely kill you. Take cover in that greenhouse. I’ll come for you when I can.”
My shoes slip in the mud, and Marek catches my arm before I fall. We’re almost to the greenhouse, and it explodes. Glass shoots up in the air, Marek tackles me, the dagger flying from my hand. We roll under a bench, shards showering around us.
Marek inspects me. “Did any hit you?”
“No. I’m fine. You?”
“I’m good.”
He holds me tight against his body and whispers, “We need to get out of here. There has to be another way out. Run with me. To the back of the garden. Don’t stop. No matter what you hear. Okay?”
I nod, my body trembling. He slides out from under the bench, and I follow. But I don’t run. I can’t.
On the stage of the gazebo, Ares holds Dalton’s arm, a smile on his face so evil it freezes my blood, my legs, everything around me.