Chapter 18
NATE
K on Lunetta had been in Boston for as long as I had been. While we weren’t friends, or even acquaintances, we both did our best to just live a normal life, filled with normal things, and stay out of Mythic politics unless they were forced on us.
The Egyptian God Khonsu was indeterminately old. Older than I was, for sure. Maybe even as old as the Minoans.
But the way Wren gaped at him, I wasn’t sure that she had any idea at all. He just looked like a doddery old man—a good way to be underestimated, even for Mythics. We might be old, but we were still prone to our own prejudices.
“Wren. It’s good to see you well, child. I hear congratulations are in order.”
Still blinking at him slowly, like she couldn’t believe her eyes, her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out.
I gave a respectful bow of my head. “Khonsu,” I murmured politely.
He nodded back, waving a hand. “Please, call me Kon.”
Shaking herself from her stunned daze, Wren repeated her question. “Mr. Lunetta, what are you doing here?” She paused, her eyes squinting in the brightness. “You’re a Mythic?”
He chuckled softly at her disbelief. “It would appear so.” He looked at her fondly, and it didn’t seem feigned. How had they met and gotten close? “The Egyptian Pantheon wanted to send an emissary to pledge us to the new Fates. To assure you that we’ll respect their weaves and hope they look kindly on us. I told my counterparts that I have nothing but faith in the fairness of the future Fates; with you as their mother, and Néit as their father, I know they will be empathetic and unbiased.”
Wren chewed her lip. “Do you want to come in?” She was hesitant, but I didn’t think it was because she was scared.
Khonsu just shook his head. “Not necessary. You deserve the time and peace to bond with your children. This is a special moment, and as such, I want to give you a gift.”
She gave him a watery smile. “I left your last gift back in Boston, at Mrs. Byrne’s house. It’s probably been destroyed by monsters by now.” The hitch in her voice had me reaching out and resting my hand gently against her spine.
Waving a hand, he smiled back at her. “No, I strengthened the wards around Zelda’s home. Although she has returned to the wheel, she deserved better than to be caught up in some new Mythic war. No one will be getting into that home except you, Wren, and those of your direct bloodline.”
With that, Wren burst into tears. Some of it was probably the wild hormones flowing around her body, but on the other hand, I understood. It was a small act of kindness that needed no repayment. An act of kindness for a woman whose life had been a mere blink to the God in front of us, but it was proof that Zelda Byrne had deserved better. That she was someone special among the mass of humans.
Wiping her face on her sleeve, she nodded solemnly. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“That's not my gift, though,” Khonsu continued. “The presence of the Valkyries would suggest that I am not your first caller.”
Hrist snorted. “Not even the fifteenth.”
He nodded sagely. “The opening of Crete, combined with the birth of new Fates, would have all the different Mythics coming out of the woodwork, I imagine. Myself included.” He gave a self-deprecating smile that looked charming on his elderly face. I had a theory that Khonsu could age himself, then revert back to his younger years, which had allowed him to stay in Boston so long. Like the waxing and waning of the moon he was associated with.
Shrugging, Wren gave him a soft smile. “I’m glad to see you, Mr. Lunetta. And I honestly understand why people keep coming. We expected it.”
Khonsu huffed. “Impatient, these young religions. Always in such a rush. No, my gift to you is to restore your ward around Crete. It will not be permanent, because not even I am strong enough to keep out the hordes of Mythics from different Pantheons for too long. Not without some serious sacrifices, and I don’t believe that’s something you’d desire?” Wren looked so horrified, he laughed again. “It should hold for six weeks or so. Enough time to bond with your babies and make sure they are strong and hale to weather the coming tides of fate.”
The gift of time was one without price. Touched, I bowed my head once more. “We appreciate your gift, Kon.”
His gaze suddenly flicked behind us, and his eyes went wide. “Teron?”
I looked over at Teron, whose Gryphon was the last of his kind. I’d forgotten that their territory had dipped right down into Africa, especially Egypt.
“Khonsu?” Teron gasped. “Old friend, it’s good to see you! I heard that you still lived, but after so many years, I never put too much hope in the rumors.” Dodging around us, he walked straight up to the old man and hugged him tightly.
How tightly had the weavers of fate tied me to this course, when my old life and my new life kept tangling together?
They talked to each other excitedly in Egyptian, while I stood there dumbly. Like big, dumb, antisocial muscle. I hated that I couldn’t pull an ancient, powerful being who owed me some inexplicable debt out of my arse, and use that to keep Wren safe, the way these guys could.
Wren leaned into my side, and I tightened my arm around her. Breathing her in, I pushed my magic inside her so I could hear the very thump of her heart, the whoosh of air exiting her chest. I needed to feel she was alive, because far too many times over the last few weeks, she’d come perilously close to death.
I kissed her head, ignoring Khonsu’s raised eyebrow. I didn’t care what he thought, what any of them thought. This little mortal was mine for the brief flash of her life, and I would defend her with my immortal soul if I had to. I let all that show in my eyes. He could run back to Boston and tell them all that—hell, tell the whole fucking Mythic world that Néit, scorned Celtic God of War, had once again fallen, this time for a mortal woman.
Teron, with his back to me, missed the subtext of our silent conversation. “Are you coming in? Stay and have a drink with us, for old times’ sake?”
Khonsu shook his head. “Not this time. You need to bond as a family, and relax into your moment of peace, because I fear this tenuous truce won’t last very long at all. Do you have your former ward glass? I will strengthen it the best I can, return your island to the fortress that it once was. None will be able to enter, but if any of the Mythics currently on the island leave, they won’t be able to return either. Not for six weeks, at the least. Also, passing through the ward to leave would be… uncomfortable.”
Teron nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
I moved toward Hrist, who was still on guard,despite the obvious familiarity of this God to us. I respected that. “You heard him. If you need to leave, you won’t be able to return for six weeks. Would you like to go now?”
She shook her head. “We have our mission. And if necessity means we must leave, we can survive uncomfortable. ”
I had a lot of respect for these warriors. I had no doubt they could survive much more than being uncomfortable.
I called Clio, but her phone went to voicemail, so I sent her a quick text saying if she wanted to leave the island, she had about fifteen minutes before leaving would feel like getting your gooch waxed by a mountain troll. She couldn’t say I didn’t warn her.
Teron reemerged, and I wasn’t surprised to see Demke with him, as well as Erus. From what I could gather, Erus had cared for the ward for the last however many years. He wasn’t inherently magical, and I think his care mostly consisted of making sure it got sunlight and didn’t get smashed in a game of racquetball. Still, he was the closest thing to a keeper they had. He held the glass jar, with the thread inside—strung from the top to the bottom like the filament of a lightbulb—now broken, no longer glowing or holding the ward strong.
The way they all cast uneasy looks at the ward glass told me that the way it was previously made sat in the forefront of their minds. The entire Minotaur race had given their lives for that previous ward.
I looked at Khonsu, who I barely knew personally, but knew by reputation all too well, and wondered if we were about to be fucked over in an ironic repetition of fate. However, he took the ward glass carefully, as if he knew the sacrifice that had been used to power it.
He inspected the broken hair inside, and when he unscrewed the jar, the hair turned to dust and floated away on the wind. Someone behind me made a choked noise, and I realized that was probably the last piece of their Goddess they’d possessed after all this time. I looked over at Demke, and there was loss in his eyes once more, but it wasn’t the destroyed look that had been so evident when we first arrived. The God of Renewal was finally healing himself.
Khonsu looked up. “I’ll need three strands of your hair, dear Wren.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, but Wren just shrugged. Plucking out three hairs, she handed them over, like DNA didn’t have power amongst some Pantheons—like you couldn’t be cursed to become a sea otter forever with just three hairs.
So trusting, mo stóirín.
Chanting, Khonsu twirled the hairs between his fingers, twining them together until they threaded into one thin hair rope. Anchoring it inside the jar, he chanted louder and louder until all the flesh on my body was covered in goosebumps, the energy wild and untamed.
Finally, the thread of hair glowed gold, and a rush of magic spread out from this spot. Khonsu screwed the heavy gold cap back on. Smiling, he handed the glass jar back to Erus. “That should give you time to breathe, to plan. To love and live.”
Wren launched herself toward the old man and hugged him tightly. “Thank you.”
He patted her hair softly. “It is my pleasure, little Wren. You were kind to an old man when it didn’t benefit you at all, even when it was harder for you to reach the bottom shelf than I. That unselfish kindness is a rare and beautiful thing, which should be rewarded.” He gave her shoulder a few gentle pats. “Now, I should be going. I only gave myself a small window to leave, without the same blowback as others. Wren, it was a delight to see you safe and well.” He gave her a soft look. “Zelda would be proud of you.”
Wren’s lip wobbled, and I tugged her back into my chest. Khonsu gave me the same sparkly-eyed, old-man look, like we weren’t roughly the same amount of ancient. After several thousand years, you no longer wondered who was older—you were all the same amount of old. “Zelda would be proud of you too.”
It shouldn’t matter what an elderly mortal thought of me, but Zelda Byrne had been no ordinary mortal. She was special.
I nodded back. “I hope so. I have no doubt she’ll find a way to come back and haunt me if she isn’t, though.”
As Wren laughed, the tears dried in her eyes, and we said goodbye to the old Mythic. I had to trust in his power, trust in his word, and while that didn’t come naturally, I had to have a little faith.
So, for the first time in almost a year, I let down my guard and relaxed.