Harsh Gods (25 page)

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Authors: Michelle Belanger

BOOK: Harsh Gods
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Gripping the spirit-blade in my left hand, I defiantly bellowed the syllables of my Name. The blue-white fire leapt from me to Halley, licking halfway up her skinny arm. She stared at it, captivated, and as her attention shifted away from the threat of Terhuziel, the invading wind lost some of its bluster.

“Is that coming from me?” she marveled. She reached tentative fingers toward the dancing spirit-light.

In between tongues of my diamond-bright flame, another energy softly flickered. Amorphous and subtle, it glimmered with a pale lavender sheen. It held neither the intensity nor brilliance of my own power, but it was undeniably there.

“See?” I said triumphantly. “You’re not some helpless princess locked up in a tower. You’ve got an arsenal of your own.”

Halley gazed raptly at the proof of her power. Slowly, she straightened beside me. Her little chin lifted in a gesture of defiance, and her eyes glittered—not with tears, but with determination.

“Now I hurt you back,” she snarled.

Still clutching my fingers, she darted forward, her right hand bearing a sliver of lavender light. It glittered like an icicle, shaped less like a blade and more like a wand. She stabbed it into the nearest set of Luwian symbols. The Whisper Man rhyme halted abruptly, and all the impossible mouths shrieked with rage.

Symbol by symbol, Halley cut them from her space, until only the first grouping remained. These last three leered from above her toy chest, pressing inward so forcefully, they visibly distended the wall. As she approached, they gaped wide and disgorged a voice I knew all too well.

SHE WILL BE MINE, ANAKIM. YOU CANNOT DELAY MY REBIRTH.

Her wand still aloft, the lavender light sputtered uncertainly.

“Last one, Halley, and he knows it. He’ll say anything to get you to stop.” I squeezed the little fingers that had never relinquished my own, holding my blade at the ready. Its light burned steadily.

The symbols gnashed upon the wall, then spilled forth another voice—deep, with a bit of a rasp. I recognized it immediately from the memories I’d encountered of Halley’s favored grandfather.


Halley, child. You have to help me. This monster’s going to swallow my soul.

“Papaw!”

The walls of her memory palace started to crumble.

The symbols of Terhuziel’s Name split like a maniacal grin, and the wallpaper around the central strokes peeled back to reveal a pitchy darkness beneath. A vision flickered in those stygian depths—a high stone tower, its battlements stained black. A ring of looming gargoyles. A tall, peaked roof against a backdrop of forking lightning.

The perfect abode of a fairy-tale villain.

“That’s the heart of his tie to you, Halley,” I said. “Cut it away, and you’re done!”

CUT ME OUT, ANAKIM, AND I SHALL ONLY RETURN. I AM EVERYWHERE. YOU ARE BUT ONE.

Halley’s spirit-light winked out almost entirely. Her grasp on her power was too fresh, and the loss of her grandfather too raw.

“You’re lying, Whisper Man.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “That’s not my Papaw.” But the words held little force.

She was going to lose the fight.

I released her hand and stepped past her. The distorted symbols of Terhuziel’s Name quivered inches from my face. A fetid stink poured from them into the room—it figured a dead god would have bad breath. Through the gaping holes torn by the sigils, I could sense his final tether, and I knew in that instant that I couldn’t break it by myself.

But I could replace it.

The knowledge welled up in me, perhaps spurred by my earlier exchange with Father Frank. I could make the girl an anchor. She’d let Terhuziel in, but she’d welcomed me, as well, and right now, I was closer. He had only a pipeline. I stood right inside her fucking head.

It was the simplest solution.

Gleaming whorls of blue and silver fire sprang to life before my eyes, tracing the outlines of my ancient Name. All I had to do was carve those symbols into the wall with my blade.

And I almost did it.

Halley drew up beside me. I folded her close with one wing. I could feel the untapped potential inside of her—diluted, but a treasure all the same.

Terhuziel didn’t deserve to drink such precious fire.

“Wingy?”

Her voice was so small compared to the thunder inside of my head. Timorously, she tugged at my hand. The connection did it—the trust inherent in that small gesture. She didn’t deserve to be bound. Not by me. Not by anyone. I seized her by the wrist, bellowing my power to raise her own.


Get out of her head
!” I shouted.

Dragging Halley along, I lunged forward. She emitted a startled squeak—but quickly recovered. Her yelp turned into a cry of defiance. Lifting our voices together, I twined my power to hers and guided her in a final sally to drive Terhuziel from her mind.

In the silence that came after, the enormity of what I’d almost done jettisoned me from the projection.

I jerked upright, nearly tumbling from the edge of Halley’s narrow bed in the hospital. My eyes were stubborn to focus. The ghostly outlines of those potent, ancient letters swallowed everything else.

31

With a rough shout, I staggered back from the bed. Father Frank caught me. Flailing, I whacked him in the ribs for his trouble. All the air rushed from him, but he took the blow without complaint.

“Halley?” he gasped.

All the worry from before sat heavily on his features.

“She’s fine—she’s fine,” I said quickly, striving to believe it. I struggled to catch my own breath.

Halley stretched against the covers, fluttering her eyes as if rousing from a dream. She smiled as she looked up at me—then bashfully ducked her face against the pillows. A tangled skein of dark hair flopped over her features.

“Sleepy,” she murmured.

The taut anxiety in the padre’s grip slackened.

“You did it, then,” he breathed. “The way you twitched, I was afraid something had gone horribly wrong. She’s really free of him?”

My hands still buzzed from the power I’d called, and I could feel every inch of my extended wings. I settled them tight against my back in a gesture I realized was the equivalent of nervously clasping my arms. I still felt sick from what I’d nearly done to Halley.

I took a halting step back toward the bed. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I clenched them into hard, tight fists. I didn’t dare put my hands on her, not after that.

“Halley, listen to me,” I said. “You’ve got to put all your walls back up. All of them. Even to me, you understand? Make a fortress in your head. Don’t let anyone in. Not
anyone
.”

Stifling a yawn, she nodded.

“It’s OK, Wingy,” she assured.

“No, it’s not,” I responded flatly.

Against the pillows, her voice was muffled. “You’re nicer in my head than Whisper Man.”

That was even worse.

“Zack, what’s the matter?” Father Frank caught me by the shoulder.

I couldn’t bring myself to answer.

A sound like thunder rumbled outside. It was answered by a series of booming knocks as Lil pounded on the door. She didn’t wait for anyone to answer, just slammed the thing open with enough force to squeal the hinges.

“What the fuck was that?” she demanded. Backlit on the threshold, she loomed like a fury incarnate.

The padre stepped fluidly to put himself between Lil and the girl.

Outside, the rumbling started again, working up to a peal of thunder that boomed with such ferocity it rattled the windows. The answering lightning summoned echoing flashes in Lil’s ferocious eyes.

“Is that you?” I demanded, jerking a thumb toward the window to indicate the gathering storm. “That better not be you.”

Lil scowled as the place shook with another monstrous peal.

“No, you idiot,” she snarled. “What did you expect to happen when you piss off a storm god? Now, explain yourself, Zaquiel.” She went to push her way past the padre, but Father Frank held his ground. Lil turned those hurricane eyes on him, glaring over the rims of the spectacles—which diminished the effect somewhat.

“Look, priest, I’m not angry at you,” she growled, “but you know better than to stand in my way.”

“Zack?” Father Frank said.

I went to the window, concern about this new development eclipsing some of my inner turmoil about Halley.

“Let her in,” I answered with a weary sigh. “I’m done.” Huge, fat flakes of snow swirled madly in the lights outside of the hospital, so dense it was impossible to see the lot below. Another rumbling complaint echoed through the heavens, and this time, I counted—a rhythmic, breathless chant.

“One, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thousand, four, one thousand, five, one thousand, six—”

Lightning split the night.

“Within a mile,” I whispered. “If he’s at the heart of it, he’s set his domain within a mile of here.”

Lil marched over to the window and smacked my arm.

“Forget the storm. What were you up to in here, Anakim? That felt more like building ties than severing them.” Her red hair had worked its way loose from its bun, and long strands of it tumbled wildly around her face.

“I didn’t go through with it,” I said with quiet fervor.

Father Frank looked up from checking on Halley. Despite the storm and our raised voices, she appeared to have drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

“What are you two arguing about now?” he demanded.

I squirmed beneath his earnest gaze.

“Halley’s brain is prime real estate,” I explained haltingly. “I didn’t think that would be a temptation for me—and I was wrong.”

Lil went to smack me again, and I whipped my hand up as an afterthought, catching the blow on my forearm.

“You were going to
bind
her to you?” she demanded. “A girl like
that
? Have you taken leave of your senses, Anakim?”

I whirled away from her, muttering, “I’m no better than any of my brothers. I’ve just forgotten half the things that make me a monster.”

“Zack!” the priest objected.

I rounded on him, an echo of the storm’s fury resounding in my voice.

“When I did it, padre, did I ask you?”

“Yes,” he answered in a voice that did not waver.

“But did you really understand it?” I persisted. “Did I explain enough to let you truly have a choice about the world of grief you were signing on for?”

Stricken, he met my eyes—and looked away.

“Didn’t think so,” I murmured. Outside, the wind gusted, singing through the wires. Another massive peal of thunder shook the skies. In the following cascade of lightning, something at the far end of the lot erupted in a shower of sparks. The streetlamps in the parking lot flickered and went out. One of Halley’s monitors emitted an unhappy whine, but the power in the hospital held without fail.

Sharply, the padre cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t have understood it if you had,” he said. There was an edge to his voice that made me look up. “And I wouldn’t have believed you—just like I didn’t believe you about what would happen when you got yourself killed.”

Beside me, Lil clucked her tongue, derisive and dismissive all at once. Father Frank shot her a look forged of gunpowder and steel.

“None of that matters anyway, because if I had it to do over again, the answer would still be yes.” With swift, sharp movements, he crossed the short distance between us, hands fisted at his sides. Some of his power infused his words, increasing their resonance above volume alone.

“Maybe I didn’t know what I was signing on for with you, but I knew what I was signing on for when I joined the Corps.” He held himself rigidly at his full height. We stood nose to nose and eye to eye. “
Semper Fidelis
covers a lot of things—none more so than the men you promised to fight and die alongside. Or—” His voice cracked here, just a little. “—in my case, fight and
live
for.”

The weight of that final sentence bore down upon his features. He drew a breath, slightly arrested by the tape around his ribs. When next he spoke, his tone was softer, but no less intense for it. He leaned close enough that I could feel the punctuation of every consonant.

“I understand that you lost a lot last fall. I know a little about loss myself. What I don’t understand is regret. You don’t regret the choices you make to protect the people you care about. You do what you have to, and you carry on, even when those choices are hard. And you know who taught me that?” he demanded, jabbing me hard in the chest. “
You
did. So suck it up. If you seriously intend on fixing the shit-storm going on outside that window, you’d best stop wallowing in self-doubt.
Sir
.”

At this last, his right arm twitched with the urge to end on a salute. Instead, he squared off his shoulders and pinned me with the heavy burden of those worn copper eyes. He never blinked. After a moment, he turned smartly on one heel and went back to tend to Halley.

I gaped after him, speechless.

“You’re both missing the point,” Lil growled. “That girl—whatever else she might be—has obvious mental deficiencies. Getting her permission is not the biggest issue here. How on earth do you trust someone like
that
to be responsible with power?” She stabbed a painted nail in Halley’s direction.


That’s
your problem?” I choked. “I thought you were busting my balls about consent. It’s what’s eating me.”

She scoffed. “Consent requires equal measures of capitulation and understanding. We’re immortals, Zack. How do you expect the average person to understand all of what we are—let alone someone who’s mentally deficient?”

“Halley is not deficient,” Father Frank declared, biting off the end of each word. He stood protectively over the girl as she shifted languidly under her covers.

Lil darted forward and snatched the chart from the rails of the hospital bed. She slipped the glasses down her nose.

“Autism. Sensory Processing Disorder with a note to keep the lights low. Epilepsy—grand mal seizures. Hypoglycemic. A litany of allergies from penicillin to oranges, and on top of all of that, she’s lactose intolerant and has celiac disease?” With a baffled air of disgust, she returned the chart. “If there’s a mind in there that can think and reason, that’s so much worse. She’s trapped! How does prolonging her life strike either of you as a good idea?” She snorted. “Kill her now and let her start over. It would be kinder.”

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