The Fox and the Falcon (No Other Gods #2)

Chapter Thirty-Two

All eyes were on us. The air had been sucked from the stadium. Even Silas’s eyes were trained on the crowd.

“Stop.”

Into my mind, I heard a single cautioning word. “Love…”

He’d fulfilled his end of the bargain. I didn’t know how he’d done it, but I knew he was the reason the valkyrie intervened. Perhaps he owed her a favor now, too.

It wasn’t enough.

“I have something to say.”

I hardly realized I was speaking to the audience before it was too late. I was committed. Caliban released the fabric of my dress as I joined Estrid on my feet. Even Estrid was caught off guard by my interjection. The crowd buzzed with hushed disapproval. I was human. The least important. The lowliest. I had no place here.

Baal looked to Estrid, then to the Prince. Caliban stood and slipped his hand around my waist. “She’s entitled to speak her piece.”

He had no idea what I was about to say. He had no way of knowing if I would help the cause or ruin it irredeemably. But a house divided could not stand. We were better united in ruin than divided so one might save face. And either he trusted me enough to not make a fool of us all, or he was ready to stand by me as I burned it all down.

“Hold.” Anath barked her cold command to the estries. The vampire flapped again, lowering herself inches closer to the angel. I watched in horror as the creature, beholden to her bloodlust, did not listen.

Anath threw out a hand and the estries was hit with an unseen blast that shot her from where Silas remained on his back. She hit the ground with a smack, but wasn’t down long. In the second it took for her to get to her feet and start in on Silas, Anath extended her arm, hand in a cupping motion. The estries gagged on invisible chains as she was throttled from afar. “I told you to hold,” the goddess said. “Obey your goddess.”

The estries was able to do little more than close her eyes in acknowledgment of the order. When Anath dropped her stranglehold on the vampire, her lips remained pulled back in a sneer at the prey she’d been denied.

Silas was safe, at least for the moment. I didn’t expect him to stay that way.

I looked down at Fenrir. In my mind, I said, “I’m going to tell them why we’re really here.”

His gaze locked with mine. “You speak to the highest deities of their pantheon. It is not the same, human. Hades wars against those with names, with titles in his own realm. He joins you for the downfall of the Grecians in rule. The Nordes beside you fight because they are unequal with the highest Nordic gods.”

“And you?” I asked.

We weren’t just here for ourselves, or for the freedom of angels and demons. Our attendance was in the name of something bigger.

He looked at me for a long time before closing his eyes in silent acknowledgment. I looked up at Baal and said, “Who is your enemy?”

Electricity crackled around the storm god. He scoffed. “I’ve stood in opposition to Heaven since before man etched the first of our legends into tablets. Their god has mocked us in our own land amidst our own followers. He’s played us for a fool one time too many.”

I threw my hand toward Silas. “And is he Heaven? This angel who rescued me, a demon prince’s bride. He a subjected foot soldier—a messenger, one whose loyalties might be swayed to sympathetic sides—of your true nemesis.”

Baal’s eyes flashed with warning. “Human—”

Fauna cleared her throat. “The Prince’s human.”

Baal’s eyes darkened. “You truly mean to stand against Heaven?” And then, as if considering our ensemble for the first time, he looked at Caliban, at Dorian, at Poppy, at the Nordes. His eyes drifted to the angel.

“There’s more,” I said.

The hairs prickled on my arms and the back of my neck as the air filled with static, just as it did before lightning struck.

It was a game of poker, and I had a winning hand. If ever there was a time to lay down my cards, it was now.

I gestured to Fenrir. He dipped his head, then looked back at the Phoenician god. “This is Fenrir, Odin’s adversary, the harbinger of Ragnarok. He has joined us for one reason.”

The Lord who straddled titles between the Phoenicians and Hell trailed over us with a shocked gaze, but no one contradicted my words. I felt the firm, reassuring pressure of Caliban’s fingers at my back. Fenrir nodded his head before speaking into the minds of everyone in the audience.

“It’s true. I’m prophesied as the Twilight of the Gods. I’ve deemed this human worthy in her cause, as she promised me one thing, and on this one thing I’m certain she can deliver.”

It was Anath who spoke next. Her eyes were wide, but shoulders back, voice calm, as she said, “And that one thing is?”

I held her gaze, balling my fists as I said, “I may be a human, but Hell is on our side. Nordes and Grecians have joined our cause. An agent of Heaven fought to save me, Hell’s bride, and is here because of us. Don’t stand against us. Be our allies as we share a common enemy.”

Anath stared me down. “Name the enemy.”

“Those in power. Those who’ve claimed the public consciousness. Those who’ve claimed the titles of masters and rulers while the rest of us wait in the shadows. Join us. Topple those in power. Be the reason we usher in a new era.”

“And that era?” It was Baal’s question, this time. The prickled hairs on my arm relaxed. The static dissipated. The same amusement I’d seen on his face played across his features just as it had the first day of the banquet.

“Dominos, Lord Baal. If one goes down, the others will follow. Fenrir is here because he was promised anarchy. Help me deliver on that promise.”

Anath regarded Baal’s contemplative expression before looking at me. “And what would you have us do, human?”

My mouth was so dry. Adrenaline burned through me. I didn’t look away as I said, “If we have any hope of winning this war, we can’t kill or wound those who might fight with us. I’d ask that you pardon both Silas of Heaven and Azrames of Hell. Absolve them of sins of the past so we can focus on the future. Let them leave this realm with us. And that you ready your people for the final war. Because whether those who’ve sat on their thrones know it or not, war is coming. You can stay in your realm and watch, or you can use your power and might to help us turn the tide.”

Caliban’s fingers flexed against my back encouragingly. His voice boomed. “The war between Heaven and Hell is your war. It’s everyone’s war. We topple their kingdom, and we free the mortal realm from two thousand years of one god’s iron grip on public consciousness. Once we overthrow the King of Heaven, the rest of us stand a chance to make a new world. One where gods cannot toss us into the Underworld, mock us in front of our prophets, or chain us to rocks and leave us to die. This victory is the first step against every god who lords power over us.”

I looked to Dagon, hoping he might weigh in with support given what I’d done to free him, but he seemed merely curious as to what the others would do. I looked for a sign, a signal, that they might be leaning in one direction or the other. My ears began to ring. My chest ached as my heart threatened to escape its cage. My palms were slick from the panic I tried so hard to conceal.

Anath was watching Baal closely. It appeared Caliban’s reference to his Old Testament competition with the King of Heaven struck a powerful nerve. She arched a testing brow as she awaited his reply.

Amusement blossomed into something else entirely as the high lord of the Phoenician realm exchanged glances with Caliban. Pride. He was… proud …of me?

My concentration was broken by a loud, unholy shriek as the estries on the ground snapped. Clearly, she’d had enough of patience. If the gods weren’t going to decide, then she’d show them exactly where she stood on joining sides with a lone angel as she scooped up the sword and sprinted for Silas. Her great bat-like wings folded for speed as she sprinted toward the angel.

An aching shock shot through me as I realized Silas couldn’t block a blow. He didn’t have his blade. He had nothing to stand against an armed estries. He—

A sickening crack echoed through the arena. The estries froze in her advance, sword aloft, mouth open, lips pulled back, but something was terribly, terribly wrong. She no longer faced the angel. Her chin jutted out at unnatural angle, neck horribly bent, mouth open in a silent cry. Her eyes remained peeled back in horror as she dropped to her knees, the sword we hadn’t realized she’d retrieved before it was too late clattering to the ground. Her wings cascaded around her, blanketing her as she collapsed onto the dirt.

I looked at Silas, but he was not watching the vampire. His gaze was fixed in the stands, watching Anath.

“I said,” came the loud, commanding answer through gritted teeth, “obey your goddess.” Then to the sea of shell-shocked onlookers, guests and gods alike, she arched a brow. “I, for one, would like to see Heaven fall. The other gods have waited long enough for the world to see our power. Who’s with me?”