The Woken Gods (9 page)

“Life itself,” Tam repeats, beside me. He’s shaking his head in amazement. Bree wears an expression that’s somewhere between overwhelmed and in love.

This part of the underground freshwater ocean, the part where Enki apparently receives visitors, continues to brighten. We have to squint.

“Um,” Bree says.

“I know.”

The everywhere and nowhere voice comes again.

Approach
.

We all hear it. That much is certain, because we do what he says. The light begins to dim. When I have the guts to look up, I understand why. We’re standing in a shadow.

Enki’s shadow.

He’s not this big out there in the world. I’ve seen him on TV, only a little taller than the tallest basketball players. He wouldn’t fit through the doors of the Jefferson otherwise. But down here in the abzu, his height is the depth of the ocean. He towers over us like, well, a tower on some enormous castle. Like an underwater mountain. I can make out the curving white bone of his horns far above, the scaled ink-blue flesh that covers his body, not so different than a human’s in theory. He has arms and legs. But he also has flowing rivers that spring from his shoulders, constantly refreshing the water around him.

We might as well be an inch high down here. But he’s receiving us, so that’s a good sign, right? I’m still trembling. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve stopped since we came down the stairs.

I look to Isimud for guidance, but he’s as hard to read as ancient Sumerian.

So I address Enki, “Great lord of the watery deeps.” I wait, hoping it’s a decent beginning.

“Good move,” Tam says low, encouraging. “They like flattery.”

ENOUGH
.

Bree and Tam jump back, but Enki’s sonic boom of a voice isn’t what knocks into me with such force. It’s the accusatory question that comes after.

“Kyra Locke, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Dad?” I rush toward him before I can stop myself.

He’s marching toward us from the general direction of Enki, dressed not like usual but in a Society uniform. The gold sun bars of his stripes are pinned at his breast, and his posture is as stiff as a soldier heading off to war. I can read him well enough to see that he’s angry.

I stop short and cross my arms in front of me. “You could at least
pretend
to be happy to see me. That I’m not dead. Killed by Set or one of your other enemies. Who I’m sure are legion by now.”

Dad is close enough for me to take in his face. Grim. Dark as the true night we endured to get here. I can’t believe what I’ve put my friends through only to find out Dad is mad that I came to him.

My own anger flares to life.

But I’m caught off guard when he keeps marching until he’s right in front of me. He hugs me. In the watery deeps, I stand with my arms crossed as my dad presses me against him.

“Kyra,” he says, “I can’t believe you’d be so stupid.”

But he holds me as if he can’t bear to let go.

“Sometimes I surprise myself. I’m just stupid enough to not be ready to let you off this hook.”

“Kyra,” and he sighs. I can
hear
the exasperation in it, even through the abzu’s waters.

“Why?” I ask. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you were one of them?”

He releases me. Steps back, but not too far. He nods to Tam and Bree. “I’ll make sure you all get out of here. Safely.”

“Dad, you and me, we’re talking about this. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why. I’m your daughter.”

He raises one of his hands and I catch the flinch before I give into it. I guess this situation is even more uncomfortable than I want it to be. He gives me a wounded look. “I would never hurt you.”

It’s true. He would never lift a hand to harm me. Traveling through Enki House has left me skittish. But I’m not ready to back down. “Really? Because it hurt when I found out you were a liar. It hurt when I found out you were gone. It hurt because I knew you wanted me to leave without a goodbye.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know how else to say it. You
are
my daughter. But I’m your father. And I have my reasons.”

“Which are?” I slam a hand out through the water.

“I can’t share them.”

“You’re going to end the world. Isn’t that the reason?”

His eyebrows go up.

“When the gods attacked me yesterday because you stole that relic, Bronson took me in. Told me what you’d done. I didn’t believe it. I still don’t. Why would you want to set them free?”

There’s a disturbance in the water around us, and one massive scaled leg advances in our direction.

“Peace,” my father says.

Enki stops.

Then to me, he says, “They are free. I’m doing what’s right. You have to trust me.” His lips quirk like he realizes the ridiculousness of what just passed his lips. “You can trust me to do the right thing. Even if it doesn’t feel like I’m doing it by you. I promise… I am.”

“Then let’s just leave.” Here it is, the real idea that’s been in the back of my mind this whole time. “If you have this money, you must have more. Let’s just leave. All of us. Me, you…” I glance over to Tam and Bree. They still don’t know about Mom, and so I swallow the word. He’ll know who I mean.

“My sweet fierce girl, that can’t happen. I wish it could. More than you know. I wish none of this was happening. I wish there was nothing for you to find out about. That there were no lies to tell. I wish I could remake the world so it’s exactly what you want it to be, exactly what you need it to be. So you can have ice cream sundaes every day and yell at me and play your music as loud as you want. I wish I could do that for you, but…” Dad throws out his hands in frustration. “Instead all I can do is this. And hope you will understand one day that I’m doing it for you.”

TIME IS SHORT
.

Dad gazes up through the water at the towering god. “What do you mean?”

“Is this guy your
friend
?” I ask him, incredulous.

“No, an ally. Maybe. A friend to you, I hope.”

THERE ARE OTHERS ABOVE. ARRIVING
.

Dad frowns at me. “Did anyone know you were coming here? Bronson?”

“You mean my
grandfather
.”

“I would remake the world…”

“But you can’t.” He waits for my answer. “No, I didn’t tell anyone. I may be stupid, but I’m not that stupid.”

“I shouldn’t have said that. I just can’t believe… You shouldn’t be here.” He takes my shoulders. “Our time’s almost up. You need to go. As far as you can. This is not for you to be a part of. I might as well die if I can’t keep you safe.”

“Dad, you’re the one being stupid.”

He keeps one hand on my shoulder and I let it stay there. He peers up at Enki. “OK,” he says, “I guess now I fight and lose. You’ll watch out for her?”

SHE WILL HAVE A GUARD. THAT IS ALL I PROMISE
.

“What if she doesn’t
want
one?” I ask.

“Don’t challenge him,” Dad says. “He’s not that much of an ally. Still a god.”

WE MUST MEET THEM NOW
.

Isimud appears beside us, and offers me his arm. His other one he holds out to Bree and Tam. “Take it,” the pale face nearest me says, and the blue one says to them, “take it now. It will steady you.”

My dad squeezes me into one last hug and bounds away, back to Enki. “What’s happening?” I ask, and when I start to pull away to go after Dad, Isimud’s hand fastens on my arm.

“We’re going to the surface,” he says, “to receive uninvited guests.”

The water around us transforms into a shaft of moving light, like we’re in a movie spaceship hitting warp speed. I hear Bree scream, and I might be screaming too. It’s hard to say. I can’t believe we came all this way for Dad to blow me off.

Except for that speech. You can hardly ever get good ice cream these days. Between subsidies and delayed shipments, ultra-pasteurized soy is pretty much it in our part of the country. Caramel topping’s just not the same without full fat vanilla. I love sundaes in a way no one else knows. Back then, we had secrets that we shared. Not from each other, with each other.

I can’t believe he remembers.

The tunnel of water vanishes and we are no longer in the abzu. We aren’t wet from our trip below either. We stand dry as sun-bleached bone in a large chamber with that curvy-horned and wavy-lined tile, those deep blue walls curving into a rounded ceiling. There is a small pool of sky blue water in front of us, with a visible bottom I suspect is not really there.

This must be where the door behind the sages goes to. I can hear them hissing and calling. This time, there’s no mistaking it for laughter. It isn’t. They’re making threats. And why wouldn’t they?

Society operatives are invading Enki House. They pour through the door in uniforms that include masks covering their heads, so all we can see is a navy flood of them, narrowed eyes, weapons lifted. Some have relics, others more traditional bows and swords and knives. One of them is trigger happy. A shaft of sun comes through the top of the chamber and glints off a bolt that’s winging its way right at my father.

Dad doesn’t see it and I jump to intercept its path, but Isimud raises his hand and catches it without a spare motion. He drops it to the floor with a clatter.

“Hold fire,” a male operative calls out.

It’s not just us and the Society operatives. Enki is here.

He’s not the ocean size he was below, but he still towers over us from a throne covered in elaborate shell-like crenellations that match his sharp, curving horns. His face is a mix of planes and curves sharp as the ziggurat we’re inside. His deep blue skin is so finely scaled it looks smooth until the light hits a certain way. He’s wearing a thick breastplate of shell armor.

The operatives fill the space. They don’t speak or call out, which is disconcerting. As I slowly rotate, backing up toward Tam and Bree – staying behind Isimud, because that arrow maneuver was both timely and impressive – I scan for Oz or Justin. Not that I’d have any way to recognize them, or any reason to believe they’re here. But it turns out the operatives are not the only warriors present.

There are Sumerian gods and goddesses spread throughout the room, maybe ten in total. Some of them must have been the swimming
things
below in the abzu, risen to the surface when we did. There are beings with crab-clawed hands and webbed legs, with sharp fins and spear-point tails, skins of green, blue, red. To a one, they look offended by the presence of the humans.

The whole room is still, waiting to see what will happen next.

Finally, there is motion. One last trio of operatives breezes through the door at the far end of the chamber. Bronson leads them, unhooded, and so instantly recognizable. I’d bet anything the two operatives with him are Oz and Justin.

Bronson is wearing a flashy silver breastplate over his uniform that
has
to be a relic. He makes his way through the assembled humans and gods like he’s visiting royalty. When he reaches the edge of the round pool, he bows his head and says, “Enki of the first time, our apologies for the unannounced visit. But you threaten the peace by harboring a fugitive.”

My father is standing beside Enki’s throne, his shoulders back and chin raised in defiance. He hefts the Solstice Was in his right hand. The headpiece has a face eerily reminiscent of Set’s. That same elongated head, its unseeing eyes painted black and mouth snarling in a vicious grin. Beneath it is a thin metal rod that forks into two sharp points.

Even from here, I can sense that it is
powerful. The same way I can feel waves of energy rolling off Enki. The god is pissed off.

Bronson speaks again, “All we want is our operative and the relic. I’m sure he told you a grand story and we’ll get to the bottom of his plans – which I hope we won’t find implicate you in any way – but you don’t want to be on the wrong side of us. Not on this.”

Enki rises. I want him to stick up for Dad, to tell them there’s no way they’re taking him.

“You are in my house
,” Enki says.

It’s a minor shock that he speaks to them through his mouth. Some part of me knows that the actual sounds are gibberish, no language I know, but can understand anyway through some trick of godhood.

I have to give it to Bronson. If he’s intimidated, I can’t see it.

He says, “Not like I had a choice, and you know it. All we want is what belongs to us. We will take him by force if we must.”

The tension in the chamber ratchets up a notch. Arms holding bows ready themselves, stances shift.

“You told me you were going to try to help him. To protect our family,” I say to Bronson, accusing. I leave Isimud behind and make my way to Dad’s side.

“Kyra, stay out of this,” Dad says, and then prompts. “Isimud?”

But when the two-faced god starts toward us, I slip behind Dad to his other side. Bree and Tam watch me from their vantage surrounded by operatives and gods. Their concern is plain, but they stay put. “Isimud, stay with my friends?” I ask him.

Almost imperceptibly Dad nods, and Isimud returns to them.

“He’s endangered you with this treason,” Bronson says to me. And to Dad, “That’s the hardest part for me to believe. How could you put her in the way of such harm? Family should come first.”

“You don’t get to say that,” Dad says. “Not after Hannah. Not after… You know I could end this in a moment.”

Bronson absorbs the meaning of that – a meaning that’s lost to me, but which I’d give anything to know. If Dad can end this, why on earth wouldn’t he?

“But you won’t,” Bronson says, “because you would have already. I wonder what you think is going to happen. You may be a great operative, but you can’t stand against the entire organization.”

Enki stares down at Bronson with eyes hard as diamonds.
“You risk the wrath of my house
.”

The warning is spoken without emotion, like some serial killer calmly confessing where he’s hidden bodies.

“Apologies,” Bronson says, “no disrespect is meant.”

“And yet it is given
.
”