Chapter Twenty-Four
Zavier pulled on his enchanted-with-protection gloves. When Evangeline’s aunt had discovered the Sickle of Cronus just propped against the wall in Maisy’s house, it gave her back her full angelic powers. Which made them quite sure it wasn’t safe for half -angels to handle.
It was a relic of the Titanomachy. Cronus had used it to unseat his father, Uranus. Then Cronus gave birth to Zeus, who ultimately used it to kill Cronus and take over as big man on the celestial campus.
It was the most powerful weapon on earth.
That they knew of.
They’d used iron tongs to put it in a box for safety for the past few months. It gave them time to make the gloves. Aradia had done an awesome protection spell, and they’d (thanks to Hariel, yet again) put in a layer of angel feathers in the hopes it would prevent the power from burning Zavier to a crisp.
Testing it had been one of the most white-knuckle moments of his life.
Not knowing what the Tree would kick back with as they used the Sickle on it? Yeah, it was another white-knuckler.
So first, he kissed Liss. He’d hopped off the Hippocamp and hovered in front of her. She put both palms on his cheeks and really sank into the kiss.
Lots of tongue.
Husky little moans he could hear even over the surprisingly loud rustle of the Tree’s leaves.
It was perfect. “Who needs a Sickle? You just powered me up.”
Liss laughed. “Not exactly the usefulness I’m striving for with these powers you gave me, but I’ll take the compliment.”
He undid the straps holding the Sickle to his back. Multiple straps, because the thing was heavy as fuck and built for a ten-foot-tall Titan to wield. He flew up to the lowest branch. It was easy to recognize the thin leaves of the olive trees he’d grown up with surrounding the Order’s Stronghold.
Rhys joined him. Their wings brushed as they got close enough to both get a grip on the wooden handle. He grinned. “I’ll bet Gideon’s sick with jealousy that he doesn’t get to wield the Sickle.”
“That’ll be good consolation if the Tree fights back and lightning-bolts us a hundred feet underwater.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “I thought you were trying not to be the black cloud of despair anymore?”
He was better, sure. He hadn’t undergone a personality transplant. “Being in love only goes so far. When a mythical tree the size of a football field shows up in front of me? Yeah, I’m still gonna brace for the worst.”
“Maybe you should try meditating.”
“Maybe we should stop this freaking apocalypse and then I won’t need to brace for the worst anymore.”
Rhys tsked. “See, my takeaway from that is that you’ll do anything to avoid meditation.”
“Bite me.”
And with that comfortingly normal exchange, they swung.
The big clang he’d been expecting didn’t come. The Sickle cut through the Tree with the ease of a chainsaw through a tissue. It was so smoothly simple that their momentum banged Rhys and Zavier against the trunk.
“Ow.” Zavier’s cheek had a long scrape from the rough bark.
“Get the branch!” Rhys yelled.
Dakarai zoomed forward, catching it in his big teeth as easily as a Frisbee dog.
Maisy clapped. “Nice teamwork.”
Rhys clasped his forearm and stared him in the eyes. “You know I have to leave. But I’d give anything to stay and fight by your side.”
“I know.” This was harder than expected. “You’re going to Hell, so I won’t make the same heartfelt offer. I try to avoid Hell at all costs. But I agree it’d be better if you could stay here and watch my six.”
“I’ll see you at the WatchTower. Tonight. Steaks from Peter Luger.”
“I’m in.”
Zavier didn’t watch as Rhys flew back to the Hippocamp . The Tree had begun shimmering. Wavering. He didn’t know if it would fade away or sink into the water. It didn’t seem like a good idea to be under its canopy either way.
He took the branch from Dakarai. “Thanks for the assist.” He handed it to Liss. Or Zavier tried to. She didn’t take it. “This is yours.”
Her gloved fingers interlaced tightly at her waist. “That demon said that a Nephilim could bring back Atlantis using the Tree.”
“No, he said even a Nephilim . Meaning I’m not the best choice. Nereid power, on the other hand, helps sailors find what’s lost. We talked about this. You’ve been a part of the plan all along.”
Voice wavering, she asked, “What if I can’t find it?”
Uh-oh. Liss’s fear was obviously back in full force. Not that he could blame her. She’d been a ride along on a handful of missions. Never the power-wielder, though. This was one hell of a starter mission.
“Performance anxiety?” he teased. “Is that what’s going on?”
“If I screw up a song, a few people might boo me. If I screw this up, who knows what else I could dredge up from the bottom of the ocean?”
It was too soon. They shouldn’t ask it of her.
They didn’t have a choice.
Plus, Zavier knew she could do it. “If you’re worrying about Titanic rising up, that’s in the North Atlantic. And remember, Atlantis didn’t actually sink into the ocean. It shifted into another dimension.”
“How is that comforting?” Her hands steepled at her mouth, then slowly slid down to touch her chin. “What if I bring back something even worse from that dimension?”
Normally, Zavier would opt out of providing emotional support. He didn’t do pep talks. He didn’t do mind games, no matter how helpful. He didn’t do feelings .
Liss needed him, though. And he’d always turn himself inside out to give her what she needed.
“Look, either you’re not powerful enough and can’t find it, or you’re too powerful and find something better? You can’t have it both ways, sweetheart. Which means we ditch both of those worries and just do the job.”
“You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”
“No. You’re being a beginner. We might as well be asking a sophomore biology student to do a skin graft. We’ve catapulted you into the deep end. All you can do is your best.”
“Wow. I used that line on my music students.”
“Guess it’s tried and true, then.”
“Smart-ass.” Even as she smirked at him, Liss placed both hands on the branch. The leaves were pointed at the expansive sea in front of them. “Dakarai, if I sing, will that help you, um, follow where the branch leads me?”
Quickly, Zavier translated. The oversized horse head nodded. “Got a song in mind? A little ‘Bohemian Rhapsody?’ Korn? Wagnerian aria?”
“I need to keep it simple. I want to manipulate the water to speed us along while I’m asking the Tree to reveal what’s lost.”
“Whatever works. You’ll sound beautiful.”
“Right. For my audience of two. I’m not so much concerned about your critique.”
“Don’t think I won’t give you one.”
“I’m sleeping with you. I expect it’ll be a rave review.” Then she started on a long ah sound.
It was melodic. A little haunting, a little climactic-Disney-magic-reveal.
More to the point, it was working. The Hippocamp surged both forward and upward. Looking over his shoulder, Zavier saw that a wave had formed, propelling them three times as fast as when they’d previously ridden the Hippocamp .
Kind of made Zavier wish for a seat belt. Or at least a bridle to hang on to. Instead, he clenched his thighs around the beast and locked his arms around Liss’s waist. At least if she slipped off, he’d be able to fly her out of the water. Spray slashed at their faces. Luckily, the wetsuits protected the rest of their bodies. The pre-dawn cold was sure noticeable skimming across the surface as fast as a powerboat.
They angled sideways. The branch absolutely was leading them to a destination. Liss’s song got louder. More of a keening wail. A pleading.
And then something shifted. From one blink to the next. Lit only by the stars, it was still easy to tell that the water in front of them…compressed. Like the imprint left on sand when a hand pressed it down.
Holy fuck . They were actually doing it. Atlantis was reappearing.
It was the coolest thing he’d ever seen. They should’ve rigged up a video feed so everyone could watch.
Color started to fill in. Maybe sand? Light browns and greens. All hazy and nowhere close to solid, but visible.
Density grew—like the upgrade from an Impressionist painting to a high-res photograph. The wind coming from the direction of the island fell off as though it were being blocked. For all that they’d talked this plan to death? The impossibility of it had weighed heavy. Nobody had seen Atlantis in centuries.
Until now. Until he and Liss, together.
It was almost enough to make him forget about the whole Titanomachy coup with no doubt angels and demons on their way to try and stop this process.
The branch propelled them forward a little. As if it wanted to connect with Atlantis. Liss sang louder. Zavier kissed her temple in encouragement.
Off to the side, though, the water roiled. Almost a mini tidal wave forming. Dakarai countered, swimming away from it.
The water sluiced off to reveal a…giant. Literally. Liss broke off from her song as it emerged from the sea. It was easily as tall as the Statue of Liberty. In general, it looked like a man, except for one key detail that was different.
One hundred fire-breathing snake heads spouted from its hands.
That one specific difference allowed Zavier to identify the monster immediately.
“What…what is that?” she screamed over the hissing of the snakes.
Bad news. Bad luck. Just very, very bad in every possible way.
“It’s proof that the rogue angels were further along in their plan than we realized. This thing means we’re barely acting in the nick of time.”
“Stop talking in headlines and tell me what that thing is that looks like it’s going to kill us.”
There wasn’t any way to undersell the badness. Zavier could easily name two dozen Nephilim that would turn and fly away rather than staying to fight.
He sure as hell wished that they could, too.
“That’s Typhon. The deadliest creature in Greek mythology. He was entombed beneath Mount Etna by Zeus himself. The rogue angels—or demons—must’ve freed him to guard Atlantis.”
Liss almost bobbled the branch, but Dakarai contorted his neck to support it until she regained her hold. “So we can’t finish raising Atlantis with him there?”
They could. If they lived through the attack. Because without seeing them, he knew Typhon had two coiled snakes for legs. Oh, and the hundred heads. One looked human. The other ninety-nine (not that he intended to count ’em) were a variety of beasts.
“It’s still taking shape. As long as we keep the branch from the Tree here, it should keep forming.”
Maybe.
What the hell did he know about reappearing an island of angels from another dimension? Or how long it would take? This was all guesswork. Educated guesswork, but still…
Oh, shit. Now he could see Typhon’s wings . Another notable feature he’d conveniently forgotten about. That’d make it harder for Zavier to fight.
Good thing he had a secret weapon in the shape of his beautiful almost-fiancée. “Our only option is for you to soothe it by singing. Put it to sleep, just like you did to Rhys.”
“Rhys is not the deadliest creature in Greek mythology. Soothing this thing would require a…a…swarm of Nereids. Gaggle? A whole bunch of ’em.”
“Look, even if you only manage to subdue it a little, that’ll give me a better chance of fighting it.” Dakarai abruptly canted them left to avoid getting hit by a stream of fire from Typhon’s hands. Zavier flared his wings to keep them seated on his back. “We have to stay put, use the power of the Tree of Life, until the island is all the way back.”
“Every time I’ve ever been scared by some new magical thing I encountered with you? I’ve been wrong. Now I’m scared. Terrified.”
It was Zavier’s worst nightmare. Leaving a frightened Liss alone in the new reality of the world he’d doomed her to belonging in when he’d shared his blood with her.
Comforting her was a luxury they didn’t so much have. Flying up to attack Typhon’s head and neck was the best strategy.
He had to put his mouth right against her ear to be heard over the ceaseless din of the snakes. “Sweetheart, I gotta say that I’m not looking forward to fighting the thing without Rhys and Gideon. But we’re out of options.” Zavier unzipped the pocket on his sleeve holding earbuds. They’d packed them on the off chance she’d have to use her power. He’d programmed them with white noise that ought to offset her singing enough to keep him awake.
“I’m not good enough.”
“You are enough. For me. With or without your powers. Even if we don’t get out of this, know that you are absolutely enough for me.” He handed her a pair to put on Dakarai.
Liss twisted her head to kiss him. The bucking Hippocamp made their teeth thud against each other. It was Liss, though, so it was still a perfect kiss. One that he’d remember forever—no matter how long or short a time that might be.
Zavier had wondered over the years if he’d been worth the trouble of saving. Now he knew for sure. He’d fought to survive in that dungeon of terrors so that he could save Liss today.
So that he could save the life of the woman he loved.
A stream of fire streaked across his arm and down to her thigh. Regular flame wouldn’t be able to get through a wetsuit that fast. But, of course, this was some super-charged shit. It melted right through their suits to leave deep red welts.
“It’s too dangerous to wait any longer. Do what you can.” And he launched into the air.
He heard her melody change. It lost the urgency, became syrupy. Hastily, Zavier inserted his earbuds. They didn’t do more than muffle Typhon’s roar—and they did nothing to protect him from the hot gas emanating from the snake heads—but his eyelids weren’t drooping anymore.
Zavier got in a couple of good whacks that took out at least seven snake heads. Ninety-three of ’em still spewing fire, along with its immense size, didn’t make his odds great.
On the plus side, the monster had stopped thrashing so much with its legs. Maybe Liss’s song was getting to it, after all?
Zavier arrowed up into the sky to begin a fresh assault. Until even through the earbuds, he heard Liss scream, then stop singing completely. In the black wetsuit, in the pre-dawn darkness lit only by the shafts of flame, he had to return almost to the water’s surface to see her.
Shit.
She’d been knocked off of the Hippocamp . Liss could swim, but the ocean was all churned up from Typhon’s stamping legs. Zavier swooped down to set her back atop Dakarai.
“Are you hurt?”
“Yes. Well, surprised more than hurt. I didn’t expect to get flamed. I fell off. That burn stings worse than rubbing alcohol on a paper cut.”
Zavier frantically looked for telltale blood. And found it, from beneath a long slash in the wetsuit, streaming down her shoulder. Burns didn’t bleed. This was something else.
Ah. Typhon had bent over in what Zavier had hoped was pain after he’d slashed off the snake heads. Maybe a jaguar head got her with its teeth. Or the buffalo with its horns. The how didn’t so much matter. The fact that she was more injured was unacceptable.
“Go. Have Dakarai take you back to shore. We can resume the work on Atlantis after I defeat Typhon.” It was more of an if . But at least Liss would be safe.
“No.” The ferocity in her voice astounded him. “I’m not leaving you alone. Not now. Not ever. I don’t care at what cost. I will not leave you, Zavier.”
How was it possible to be so happy and yet still so scared and marginally certain of defeat? “You’re wonderful.”
“I can do this. I won’t be surprised again. I can sing Typhon to sleep.”
Zavier kissed her forehead and flew straight at the nearest lion head. It roared, and damned if Zavier didn’t roar back, startling it. Call it a battle cry. A shrink would probably call it the outpouring of his repressed anger from the last fifty years.
Either way, it bought him an extra second to behead the lion.
Then he sheathed his sword back at his waist. Hacking at Typhon was too big an endeavor. The ancient power running through Typhon called for an equally ancient method of destruction.
He swung the Cronus Sickle back and forth.
Ha! A flicker of recognition in its eyes. It was quickly followed by twin streaks of fire that Zavier deftly avoided. So it was scared.
That was a damn good hint that the Sickle could end it.
Zavier went after the leopard head next. He had to still draw its attention away from Liss. The Sickle was slick. He might as well have been using a cleaver on an ant. Typhon bellowed/roared/howled/hissed as the snarling lion head fell to the ocean.
Guess the Sickle stung…
Typhon swayed. A solid quarter of its beast heads drooped and fell silent as Liss’s pure soprano did the trick. Zavier only had to lop off another dozen snake heads before more of the beasts quieted.
The swaying increased. Its giant arms fell bonelessly to its sides.
Zavier flew behind it. A little too close to a bear head that managed to bite down on his calf.
That one hurt like a motherfucker . He surged upward hard enough that the bear’s tooth broke off.
Sadly, it stayed in his calf. At least that way, though, he wouldn’t need a tourniquet.
Yet.
With both hands clamped on the Sickle’s wooden handle, he made a steep dive that gave him momentum to bury the Sickle at the back of the neck. At what he hoped would be the brain stem of the human head.
Typhon sank.
Like a stone.
Or like an extremely heavy, hundred-foot-tall giant of a monster.
They didn’t do celebrations on missions after defeating demons. No spiking the football and dancing at the goalpost type moments. But right now, Zavier had the unexpected urge to shimmy his hips and shake his arms overhead.
He settled for giving a quick head shake to pop out the earbuds.
He’d done it! Saved his woman. Defeated one of the most terrible monsters in Heaven or Hell. It was one hell of a moment.
Man, Rhys and Gideon were never going to believe he’d actually done it. Unfortunately, the Sickle stayed buried in Typhon’s neck and disappeared beneath the dark water before he could grab for it.
Aside from losing its firepower to use in the next, oh, hour or so? Which, yeah, sucked considering how easily it had dispatched Typhon. Its disappearance was probably for the best. That much raw power didn’t belong on earth in the midst of humans.
Zavier stayed in the sky for a minute, despite wanting to race back to Liss, to be sure it didn’t thrash its way to the surface in the throes of dying.
He glanced behind him to see the land mass glimmering more into appearance. Definite colors and form…but still fuzzy. What would it take to bring it fully the rest of the way into this dimension?
Liss’s song changed again. No longer pretty or soothing. More like a sharp bark of warning—
Zavier folded his wings to plummet. His feet skimmed the water surface just as he used all the strength in his back to pull himself into a flat flight line.
His evasive maneuver bought him time to scan the sky for danger.
There it was.
For him, a danger a million times worse than Typhon.
Riding a dragon and wielding a fiery sword was Aamon, the treasurer of Hell. A grand duke who commanded forty legions of demons.
The one who’d held him captive and tortured him for three endless months…
Even from two hundred feet away, Zavier’s skin crawled as he smelled the stench that haunted his nightmares. It wasn’t the small dragon. No, it was Aamon himself, slowly rotting from the inside out, century after century.
Zavier pumped his tired wings harder than ever. Up, up, fast, and on a diagonal to Aamon.
His first instinct was to fight. The chance he’d dreamed of for fifty years was here. He could finally kill Aamon. He could get his revenge.
But…
…Aamon always traveled with a pack of bodyguards. Did him showing up alone mean that the battles at the Gates to Heaven and Hell were going so well that there wasn’t anyone left to guard him? Or did it mean that they’d be winking onto the scene any second?
Fuck.
Liss was still down there. If more demons were on their way, it’d be to prevent Atlantis from reappearing. And Liss was an obvious target, wielding the branch from the Tree of Life.
He couldn’t risk leaving Liss alone.
Done. Revenge wasn’t an option.
He pivoted to fly back to her side.
The puny, potbellied dragon belched out smoke. On the third try, flame accompanied it. To Zavier’s detriment. The fire just caught the bottom tip of his left wing. Sparks fanned out on an even wider swath of feathers.
The pain wasn’t the bad part. He’d withstood unmentionable pain from this demon before. Over and over and over again.
It was that while he could still fly, his speed and accuracy were compromised. To fight and win against a Grand Duke of Hell required both of those things.
The dragon roared behind him. It was definitely following.
So…should he keep flying? Was the best hope of protecting Liss to make Aamon chase him, buy her more time?
But that would leave her alone.
There was no obvious strategy. And why wasn’t Atlantis getting any more three-dimensional? Was there some piece to this they were missing?
Shit.
Zavier drank in what he was certain would be his last look at Liss’s beautiful face. For all her talk of not wanting to fight, her dark eyes had a warrior’s focus. And there was zero reluctance in the full-throated melody she kept going to call Atlantis into existence even as Dakarai dodged gobs of flame.
She was magnificent. Brave beyond all words.
He loved her so damn much.
Zavier unsheathed his sword. Turned away from Liss—
—to see Caraxis, his orange and brown wings pumping, almost upon him.
He’d never been more surprised. Not even when Gideon had managed to ride a centaur for more than ten seconds. “What are you doing here?” Zavier yelled. “This wasn’t part of our plan.”
“I was never going to let you do this alone, Zavier Carranza. Obviously, you’d try to pull some heroic, sacrificial crap.”
“Somebody has to.”
“You’re right. And that’s me. Consider this my atonement for following bad orders and not rescuing you all those decades ago.” Caraxis reached out with his sword to tap Zavier’s. “Go protect your woman. I’ve got you.”
It was hard to breathe with his chest so tight and full.
And with another burn through his wing from the persistent dragon.
He was tempted to fight with Caraxis. Together, they could take down Aamon faster. But even as a Fallen angel, Caraxis wielded far more power than Zavier. Better to leave the demon to him and stay with Liss.
Back at her side, he noticed her arms shaking from holding the branch outstretched. Zavier settled onto Dakarai behind her and put both arms beneath hers for support.
“I’m glad you’re here.” It took Zavier a moment to recognize that the words in her song were for him.
“Like you said—we do things together.” He switched his gaze from the fight in the sky to the shimmer of Atlantis, even more visible with the lightening of the horizon. “It looks the same as it did five minutes ago. Is it stuck?”
Liss’s shoulders shrugged under his.
Hellfire . This whole plan only worked if Atlantis and all of its angels actually reappeared. The warriors at the Gates might not be able to hold on long enough without them as reinforcements. The only way to prevent the coup was to get that island to stop shimmering and fully take form.
But Liss couldn’t sing any harder, or louder. Should they have cut off a bigger branch from the Tree? Impossible to get another one now with the Sickle underwater. His mind raced, trying to figure out what to do. It was hard not having Rhys and Gideon to bounce ideas off of.
A shriek had them both looking up. Caraxis had stabbed the dragon. It plummeted to the water. Aamon still had his wings, though. He flew away from Caraxis, over the glimmer of Atlantis.
Coward.
Caraxis hated cowardice in battle.
As expected, he followed him, although blood dripped down his leg. He folded in his wings and freaking somersaulted—a badass move incredibly hard to pull off in mid-air—and sliced down Aamon’s torso.
The demon screamed.
Blood poured out of him.
The problem with a somersault move, though, was that it left you underneath your opponent. Not ideal while flying. So as Aamon fell, he managed to slice at Caraxis’s neck.
Liss shuddered in his arms.
And as demon and angel blood fell onto hazy island beneath them, Atlantis fully popped into reality.
Liss stopped singing. “It’s here.”
They barely had a moment to take in the beach, the mountains behind it, the sparkling towers of a city, before what had to be two hundred angels burst up into the sky from it. He’d never seen anything so stunning.
“Looks like they’re ready to take down whoever banished them centuries ago.”
“It looks like they’ve been watching all of this unfold from wherever they were.” Liss twisted to look at him. “I think we’re going to win.”
How had his life turned around and made him so lucky? “I think I already did.”
But then the bodies of Caraxis and Aamon thudded onto the beach, mere yards in front of them. Zavier flew to his teacher, not waiting for the Hippocamp to deliver them to shore. He kicked Aamon out of the way.
There was so much blood. He pressed on the wound with one hand, gesturing for Liss to hurry with the other. “Hang on. There are angels here. Just hang on, damn it. I’ll get help.”
“I am a Fallen, Zavier Carranza. Celestials will not save me.” Caraxis coughed wetly. “But you—you have saved the world. Do not ever doubt again that you are enough.”
He could barely absorb the wonder of those words. The joy with which they filled him—while he simultaneously fought overwhelming sadness as color leached from the Fallen’s face.
Liss dropped to her knees beside him. She grabbed Caraxis’s hand. “Thank you for saving him.”
“No. I think you are the one who has done that.” His arm rose a few inches. “Blessings on you both…” His eyes closed.
He was gone.
If Zavier really had saved the world, as Caraxis claimed, how was he so miserable? Sadness bore down on him. Both at the loss of the Order of their leader, and for him—losing someone he’d hated for so long but recently come to more than respect.
Caraxis gave his life for the cause. To save humanity, and Zavier and Liss. Zavier would make sure that his name was never forgotten.
Four angels came around to face them. Liss threw her arm up to shield her eyes. They hadn’t tamped down their celestial glow much at all. Probably from not being around any humans for eons.
Zavier shaded his eyes. “Hey. Glad to see you, but you’re blinding us.”
“Apologies.” And when he blinked again, there was merely a fuzz of an aura and halo surrounding them. “You two have brought us back. You freed us. Our gratitude is as immense as the heavens.”
Two of the angels lifted Caraxis, their long robes billowing in the breeze. “We will take care of our Fallen brother.”
“He’s a hero,” Zavier said fiercely. “Not just a Fallen.”
“We know. We see all. He has our respect. As do you.”
And that was the first moment that Zavier drew a full breath.
They were safe. His adrenaline dropped enough for him to realize that his wounds burned a hell of a lot.
But there was one more thing to do before he could rest. He unzipped the pocket of his wetsuit and pulled out the ring. “Liss Jemison, I love you. I can’t begin to say how much, but I’m going to spend every day of my life showing you. Will you marry me?”
She pursed her lips. Ran a hand down the front of his wetsuit. “Well, you did just save the world. You’re a catch now. I’d be stupid to let you off the hook for some other woman to scoop up.” Then she laughed and threw her arms around his neck. “Of course I will. I said yes the first time, didn’t I? I love you right back. And I always will.”
And then those arms slackened as she passed out. Zavier tried to raise his arm to get the attention of the angels, but it was like trying to push through mud. He could barely keep his eyes open.
“Rest, Nephilim . We will take care of you.”
His last thought was that Liss hadn’t put the ring on yet…