Chapter 36
WREN
I ’d never seen the Tar Pits so empty. In all the time I’d worked here—which was indeterminable, really—it had always been bustling with bodies. Today, in Bran’s words, only the brave or the stupid remained.
“It’s a room filled with Death Gods, girl. Some are notoriously easy to offend. No one wants to spend an eternity in Christianity’s Hell, being poked in the ass by a demon, just because you pissed off Lucifer.”
I felt like I would’ve recognised the Devil if I’d met him in the bar, so he must have sent an emissary. Who knows who that could’ve been, though?
Cy paced back and forth, and if I thought I could make him leave, I would. He didn’t need to see this. But I knew he wouldn’t go. He’d stay for this whole ordeal, because he was loyal and he loved me. It was in every line of his body, in every achingly handsome curve of his face. It was in the way his fingers brushed my hand or arm or thigh every time he walked past, like he was trying to reassure himself that I was still here.
Finally, after such a painfully long time that it almost had to be part of the trial, the doors opened. Hades walked in beside a beautiful woman, her face a skull. Or her skull was a skull, and she had no face flesh. I wasn’t sure how I knew she was beautiful, but I did, deep down in my chest. She was in flowing red robes, clad in beautiful roses that looked real, though I didn’t know how flowers that red could grow down here. The hood of her robe was elaborately embroidered with gold thread and flowers. She held a scythe in her hands, but even that was intricately engraved. She was a beautiful Death.
Bran murmured softly, “Santa Muerte. Holy Saint of Death. She has a small offshoot of Christianity, I believe.” When two men walked in behind her, I wasn’t even surprised to see one was blue. I looked at Bran, who rolled his eyes at me. “Yama. He’s the blue one. Big guy in many of the East Asian Pantheons. He gets around. And beside him is Mictlantecuhtli, from the Aztecs.”
The other man was skeletal, but unlike Santa Muerte, he still had skin pulled tight across his bones, so tight he looked like a drum. Looking at him made my brain ache. They congregated together, solemn and filled with power.
The next figure to walk through the door was one I knew. “Nergal?”
The huge, ill-tempered Mythic grunted at me in greeting and went to join the rest of the rulers of the afterlife.
I looked at Bran. “You could have told me he was a God I had to impress.”
Chuckling, the head raised an eyebrow. “Would your manner have changed? I didn’t think so. He runs the Underworld for the Mesopotamians, though there aren’t many of them left now.”
Next was another face I recognized. Donn from Tech Duinn arrived, a man who looked like a lighter version of him at his side.
“Donn!” I yelled, drawing the gaze of all the Gods and Goddesses in the room. He smiled, ducking to get further into the room.
“Wren Mahone. I see you were successful. This is my counterpart from Annwn, Arawn.”
The golden God in question bowed. “I hear I have you to thank for stopping this giant from being as pitiful as a schoolboy with a crush.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Fea?”
Donn scowled at us both, but his eyes danced with happiness. He didn’t confirm or deny, but he didn’t need to. I winked at him, and his lips curled into a smile before he turned and went to stand with the rest of the assembly.
The power in the room was raising the hair on my arms, and Cy had come to stand closer to me.
A booming laugh announced the next Mythics before they’d even pressed through the doors. Two men in suits walked in, though one was smoking and wearing a grin and a top hat. “Bran! Old head, ‘tis been too long.”
Under his breath, Bran sighed. “Baron Samedi, from the Haitian Crossroads. Big partier. I better get out the bigger jugs of ale,” he muttered to himself. “Beside him is?—”
The other man was there immediately. “Lucifer. The Devil.” He flicked his wings behind him, and until that moment, I hadn’t even seen them there. They stretched back behind him in long shadows. He stared down at me in a way that made me feel the size of an ant. “Hmm, I thought they were lying to me, but it’s true. You don’t seem to fit anywhere, despite your early adherence to Christinianity. I thought Peter was just slacking.” He turned to walk toward the rest of the group, but stopped, looking over his shoulder. “Zelda says hello.”
I pulled back, like he was reaching for my throat. “Mrs. B is in Hell? That can’t be right.”
The Devil was instantly back in front of me. “And if she is, would you bargain your soul to take her place, so she could ascend the heavens?”
Would I give all this up for Mrs. B? Would I swap my soul for hers? Guilt still ate at me for her death, and I’d loved her like a mother until the day she died. I owed her so much, and there wasn’t a woman who deserved Heaven more than her. Would I give up my immortality for her, though?
Someone called for Lucifer, and he smirked. “Saved by the bell from an eternity in Hell,” Lucifer purred. “Unfortunately, your soul isn’t up for grabs right now anyway. Maybe later. Though we both know Zelda is talking shit in Heaven. She asked a favor from me and my Reaper, on your death. Only woman I’ve met in a while who could make a deal with the devil and still end up behind the pearly gates. Wily old bat.” A relieved breath rushed out of me, and his laughter echoed around the room as he joined the others.
The last three people came in all at once. A woman stepped in first, with pale skin and deep black hair that fell to the back of her knees. Behind her was a man with equally dark hair, but skin so green, it reminded me of the jungle. His eyes took me in, but his lips remained pressed closed.
“Hel, from… well, Hel. Norse,” Bran muttered. “And beside her is Osiris, from the Egyptian Pantheon.”
My eyes had snagged on the last person, though. His power was immense, and his presence filled the room. I knew who he was, the same way I knew who the Greeks were. Possibly one of the most famous Mythics of all time, and I guess it made sense why he was here.
“Anubis,” I breathed, and Bran made a noise of agreement. The Weighing made sense now, and honestly, I felt like a bit of an idiot not figuring it out before. “Weighing. He’s going to weigh my heart.”
Looking at me sadly, Bran merely nodded.
Like they’d all been waiting for Anubis to arrive, the collective rulers of the afterlife all turned to look at me. I felt like just their gaze alone might incinerate me. They were all so different, so varied in not just appearance, but in power and beliefs. The silence was both heavy and deafening all at once. The people at the edges of the room, who’d stayed to watch my weighing, were so quiet, I didn’t even think they were breathing.
The jackal-headed God, Anubis, stepped forward. “Wren Mahone. Do you still petition for the Weighing?” It sounded like a question, but there was only one answer. I had a feeling that I’d wish I was dead if I wasted the time of all these powerful Gods.
But I hadn’t changed my mind. I bowed low. “I do.”
Anubis inclined his head. “Osiris will remove your heart, and I will weigh it against the feather of Ma’at, the Goddess of Truth, Balance and Fairness. If your heart is heavier, I will take your soul and feed it to Ammit, removing your soul from the weave and the wheel permanently. The process is not pleasant. Your soul being torn out is not a gentle caress.”
I licked my lips, my throat suddenly dry. “And if I’m found worthy?”
Anubis’s eyes told me he didn’t see that happening, but not in a condescending way. I think he just believed this whole thing was rigged. “If you are found worthy, your heart light, then you will eat the feather of Ma’at. You will become immortal and be returned to the human plane, until you die in the way of the immortals.”
I nodded. My heart was thundering in my chest as I second-guessed every single thing I’d ever done in my life. That time I’d gone out underage drinking—would that be the heaviness that tipped the scales? The way I’d raged after my parents death? The fact I was banging at least seven guys might be bad.
Still, there was no other choice for me.
Osiris stepped forward. So far, he hadn’t spoken, but he lifted his hand in question. Was I ready for this? To let this Mythic remove my heart? My knees were shaking, but I held my chin high. I met his eyes, so black they may as well be pits of tar themselves.
Sucking in a breath, I closed my eyes slowly, reaching for the connection I had with Griff. It was quiet and still now, and I’d thought severed, but I hoped as I poured love to the place where it was, he’d feel it. Let them all know that I loved them.
Opening my eyes, I inclined my head respectfully at Osiris. “I’m ready.”
There wasn’t any pomp or ceremony. His hand shot forward and burst through my ribs, before he dragged my heart back out. I gasped, falling to my knees. I knew I was already dead, my heart no longer beating, but the pain was real.
It felt like hooks were being dragged from my veins, my blood being replaced by acid, and I screamed. I screamed and screamed until the room around us disappeared, and all that was left was a rapidly flashing reel of my life.
Everything was there in a flash. My first steps. My first friend. My first sadness. My grandmother dying. Saving a baby squirrel when I was eight. But more than that, there were inconsequential moments flashing in front of me. Spilling milk on the floor when I was four. Catching the bus at twelve. Random things. On and on it went, until we got closer to the end. That damn watermelon. The apple. Java Llama. Nate. The guys. Dying.
It stopped as suddenly as it had started. I sucked in a breath, like Osiris’s hands had been around my lungs and he’d finally let go. I lay on the floor, looking up at the chandelier over the bar. I needed to turn my head. Needed to watch.
I saw Cy fighting against the hold of Hades, who was gripping him tightly, probably to stop him from doing something stupid, like attacking the God of the Egyptian Underworld.
I watched as Anubis placed my heart on a set of scales that appeared from nowhere. On the other side was a golden feather about the length of my pinky finger. It must have weighed basically nothing. They’d been right; I’d been full of hubris to think I could overcome this test. No one who had lived would have a heart light enough. I was about to be swallowed into nothingness.
I looked at Cy, and his eyes caught mine. I hoped he could read all the things I couldn’t say out loud. I apologized that I put him through this. I told him how much I loved him.
Someone made a noise, and Cy tore his eyes away from me, back to the scales. They tipped wildly in one direction, my heart heavier, than back the other way. Back and forward they rocked, the whole world moving so slowly that each rock of the scales felt like it took a lifetime. Or a deathtime.
Finally, it evened back out. Someone gasped in the background, and Lucifer glared in their direction. Anubis turned to Osiris. “It’s balanced.”
“But not lighter?” Hel asked, her voice soft and melodious. “Does that mean the challenge was overcome or not?”
“Surely not good enough to warrant eternal life. Put her heart back, and she can work the Tar Pits forever. Or go on to one of the afterlifes like an average mortal,” one of the Gods argued, which started an argument.
The whole time, I lay there, a gaping hole in my chest, waiting for my fate to be decided. Hades let Cy go, and he rushed over to me, his eyes continually dipping to my chest and then back up to my face.
I lifted my hand to his cheek. “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” Just a small lie. My chest didn’t hurt, because my whole body was on fire. “I’m sorry you have to see this,” I whispered.
“I couldn’t have left even if I wanted to,” he murmured, kissing my cheeks and the tears I hadn’t realized were pooling there.
Osiris finally raised his hands. “The universe is about balance. Good and evil. Villains and heroes. Happiness and tragedy. We all know this. She has achieved the balance sought by the universe, and I believe that she should gain her immortality and be returned to the world. It is the will of the universe. We are not more powerful than the will of the stars themselves.”
Yama stuck his hands on his hips. “You aren’t the ruler here, Osiris. We vote. Those in favor of just putting her mortal soul back in her body and sending her on her way, raise your hands.” I couldn’t see who raised their hands. “Those in favor of feeding her soul to Ammit and going home?”
I sucked in a breath between my teeth, and Cy went pale, but let out a quick, relieved breath. “No one raised their hand,” he whispered.
Yama grumbled. “Those in favor of gifting her immortality and sending her back to the living world?”
Cy was now crying. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
A force pushed him away, and Osiris was there above me, my heart in his hand. He pushed it back into my chest, and the pain stopped immediately, making me cry out with relief. Reaching down, he helped me to my feet. His skin felt both cool and hot at once, like there was fire living inside him, barely contained by a physical form.
Anubis was holding the feather from the scales, which he handed to Osiris. “The Assemblage of Death have seen your heart, Wren Mahone, and have agreed to gift you with immortality. Eat the feather of our revered Ma’at and begin your new life.”
I opened my mouth, and Osiris placed it on my tongue. Like a wafer, it disappeared into nothing, but I could feel the power flood my body, chasing away the lingering aches, chasing away anything that felt like mortality. It felt like all my cells were vibrating together. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t comfortable either.
I clenched my teeth, praying I wouldn’t break them all. Eventually, I collapsed back to my knees, and for an indeterminable amount of time, my body transformed.
Finally, I felt alive in a way that I couldn’t even explain to a mortal person. Nothing ached. Nothing felt wrong. It was like a day where you felt your best, but then a hundred times better. Climbing to my feet, I felt like a newborn deer. My knees trembled, until Cy wrapped an arm around my waist, anchoring me to his side.
I looked over at Bran and then Donn. “Thank you two, especially.” Donn waved a hand, like it was nothing.
Bran looked so happy. “It was an honor, girlie. Come and visit the Tar Pits next time you’re in the neighborhood.”
I turned to the rest of the Mythics in the room. “Thank you all. I appreciate the gift you have granted me.”
Hel lifted a perfectly arched brow at me. “It’s the will of the universe.” She turned toward the door. “Oh, when you make it back to the mortal plane, be sure to anchor yourself there.”
I looked at her, wide-eyed. “How do I do that?”
It was Hades who answered. “The way all the Old Gods liked to consummate things. An orgy.”
Then he snapped his fingers, and I disappeared.