Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“We were expecting someone from Hell. But he is not a demon, nor does he smell mortal.”
Alessia took over from there with an abrupt, “Excuse me, who are you?”
Silas looked up from pouring the first cup. “I’m Silas,” he said. “Newly fallen archangel. A rebel at your service. Now, what would you like with your coffee?”
“None for me,” Alessia said, expression tight.
“I take mine black,” O said, extending her hand.
Silas had no way of knowing why Alessia and I relaxed at O’s acceptance. Even I didn’t fully understand it. But it seemed her gift was one of judgment. If O deemed someone trustworthy, then it was in everyone else’s best interest to follow suit.
We moved around the island like it was a war table.
I went to Silas’s side mostly because he was still in possession of the French press.
He grabbed the honeypot while O slid into one of the stools around the island, which set Alessia even further at ease.
She planted a hand on the island and relaxed into the posture.
“You did it,” Alessia said, dropping all pretenses as she offered a true, happy smile. “You fucking did it.”
I dug within myself for a grateful, if a bit thin, smile in return. “Your venom helped us stay safe until the concert. I couldn’t have bought us the time we needed without it.”
It was utterly bizarre to see this larger-than-life figure—snake-headed Medusa of mythos, international global figure in practice—lounging in my kitchen. Then again, bizarre had become my new normal. I sipped my fallen-angel-made coffee as I looked at the elf-eared advisor.
“I wish I could say the Prince has good taste,” O said, “but the truth is, you’re an asset to all of the realms, no matter who you are. We’d back you no matter whose banner you wore. But you’re a little difficult to get a hold of. Even when you’re not ‘stoned.’”
I grimaced. “I keep losing smartphones. I think I have one in Hell and one in álfheimr. I’ve just been using my computer for my regular number, and this little burner…” I realized I was overexplaining and switched directions. “But since you’re here, there’s something you should know.”
Silas took over. “Two archangels are dead. With my recent rebellion, that only leaves Heaven with four. Of course, they have an infinite number of soldiers and no shortage of tricks up their sleeves, so they’re not to be underestimated. Do you have any word on who might side with Heaven?”
O’s lips flattened. “There’s something more pressing.”
“More pressing than Heaven’s forces?” Silas looked like a cat sprayed with water.
Alessia looked at me. “Hades and Persephone. Your work?”
I nodded.
“Good, good. I have no shortage of qualms with the Greeks, but when they went public, it forced a lot of hands. Demeter joined Persephone today for a guest appearance. She’s going by Danae, and she owns a vineyard in Tuscany—to the chagrin of Ceres.
“She worked her control of the seasons and set Athens into a cold snap. It was what they needed. Anyone who was doubting Poppy’s display as TV magic had no excuse for how it went from a balmy day to frostbite conditions in under a minute. The rumors of Demeter’s father—”
“Cronos?” I breathed the Titan’s name.
Alessia nodded solemnly. “He’s reclusive. The lore has always said he’d be overthrown by his children. Now with a son and a daughter out in public, there have been whispers of him on the move.”
I knew Hades and Demeter were siblings, but I hadn’t considered the others. “What about the current king of Olympus? Titans aside, I’ve been worried Zeus would side with Heaven. But—”
“He still might,” O cautioned. “But if we get Hestia, Hera, and Poseidon on our side, we have a fighting chance. That said, whatever’s happening with Cronos was to be expected. Cronos being unleashed, well… It’s the sort of thing that happens at the end of the world.”
“Tell her the real bad news,” Alessia said.
I hadn’t known O for long, but she seemed like a straight shooter. It was odd to watch the advisor carefully reflect before choosing her words.
“You may not like what I’m about to say.”
I did my best to seem unruffled. “We all agree the world’s ending. How much worse can it get?”
She seemed pleased with the answer. “How’s your knowledge of Egyptian mythology?”
A chill seeped down my spine as I thought of Kirby’s last-known set of messages. “Kirby and Ella were headed to meet an Egyptian god when we stopped hearing from them. Who was it? Anubis? Osiris?”
“They were supposed to meet Sekhmet,” Alessia said. “We believe they were intercepted.”
“By who?” Silas asked.
O took a deep, calculating breath, setting the room tingling before she said, “Apep.”
At first, the name meant nothing. I wasn’t sure why a minor underworld deity would be cause for so much trepidation.
The image of a snake nudged its way into my memories. A large, golden serpent slithered its way into years of studies, coiling atop an image of hieroglyphics, atop history books, atop my vision of the world.
I lost my breath. “Apep…no,” I said.
“Yes,” O confirmed.
I knew exactly one piece of information about this powerful being.
Arguably, it was the one thing that mattered.
Apep was the only god in the Egyptian pantheon who had no shrines.
He possessed no worshippers. The only temples that knew his name were ones dedicated to prayers against him.
The faithful who spoke of him did so to keep him from rising up and swallowing the sun, as he would in the end days.
No other god had been so completely defined by his exile.
“But he’s imprisoned,” I said.
Everyone frowned at me. Silas asked, “Wasn’t Fenrir imprisoned?”
“He can’t be free. We still have the sun,” I said.
“That part was more or less metaphorical,” O countered.
“Right, right,” I murmured. “Set free at the end of the world. Good for us, I guess. I didn’t really expect the apocalypse to have so many steps. I sort of thought it would just…happen.”
“Well”—Alessia’s expression was heavy with amusement—“does anything just happen? Isn’t there an anecdote about groups?
It’s always the slacker who believes everyone should relax because the project will get done.
And it does, because those who aren’t neglectful work around the clock.
At the end of the day, he believes himself to have been right all along. And in a way, he was.”
Alessia Clovis, everybody, I bit my lip to keep from smiling. I wondered if the TED Talk champion of the international women’s rights stage ever left an exchange without administering a parable.
“And my friends? Kirby and Ella? That’s where they are?” I asked.
O folded her hands. “We have no further information. It would be a disservice to falsely mislead you in one direction or the other.”
I knew there was more work to be done.
I was aware that I had a larger role in the final war than focusing on my friends.
But the high dial tone of a disconnected signal beeped over their voices with single, monotonous insistence for ten seconds, then fifteen, then thirty.
Silas nudged me.
“Merit?” O prodded.
“What was that? Sorry.”
She looked displeased but repeated herself.
“Poppy and Dorian coming forward was the perfect counterbalance to your siren’s display.
I wouldn’t be surprised if we start seeing appearances from other pantheons in the next few days.
The others understand exactly why the Castellanos did what they did.
And if they want to assert themselves as viable options after Heaven and Hell have showcased their abilities, the clock is ticking to make a move. ”
“Xuan works with Shinto deities,” I said. It was the best I could contribute.
“Kami deities,” O corrected. “Shinto is the religion.”
“Right.” I fidgeted. I would have loved to have passed the baton here and now if only Xuan were present. I recited what I knew of her gods. “One of wisdom, one of fire, and one of fortune.”
“Omoikane, Kagutsuchi, and Kisshōten,” O was quick to respond. “They’ve been going by Yuto, Sota, and Mei, respectively. We’ve been in touch with Mei, and she’s happy to work with us behind the scenes, which is truly all we need. Fortune on our side will go a long way.
“Yuto and I share a gift, more or less. Alessia is fine going on my discernment. But if your practitioner could petition Sota to make a public appearance, I think a fire display could go a long way. We need a substantial presence in the eastern hemisphere if we hope to tip the tides.”
“Have you been in conversation with them?” Silas asked.
Alessia made a face. “We try not to work with masculine entities.”
Silas said, “What if I did it?”
My hands dropped from my cup. The three of us looked at him expectantly.
“What if I was your liaison between masculine entities so that you didn’t have to open your party up to communication with them?” he asked.
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I drew blood. I couldn’t believe what he was asking.
“But that wouldn’t solve—” Alessia began to say.
“Let him do it,” O said with finality. “Silas can serve as our liaison with the others, and I will speak with him so that neither you nor the others have to.”
Alessia pulled away from the island. “We don’t work with men. What kind of safe space will we be if we let one in?”
“He’ll be an independent contractor,” O said firmly.
“He’s an archangel who defected for this cause alone.
Marlow believes in him, and clearly, the other realms trust him with Hell’s bride.
He’ll have insights into Heaven that no one else has.
And if I’m not wrong, Silas: You have nowhere else to go, do you? ”
Alessia looked deeply unhappy. With a dry bitterness, she said, “I really hate your gift sometimes. Do people ever tell you you’re difficult?”
“Often, ma’am.”
O extended her hand for my burner phone.
A moment later, she said, “I’ve punched our numbers into your saved contacts.
Please try not to lose this one. No one else changes phones every time they hop realms.” Then to Silas, she said, “I’ll send instructions with how to liaise with me directly.
And, at the end of the day, if you need a realm, I have somewhere you can go. ”
I didn’t understand my body’s reaction to this. I wanted to speak over him, to say that no, he wouldn’t be going anywhere, but that was not for me to decide.
“Who knows,” O said. “You may be able to switch to your real name in my realm, as I do mine. Whether or not humanity survives their apocalypse, you’ll have somewhere to go.”
I hated everything about it.
But since I didn’t hate O, nor did I hate a version of reality where Silas got his happy ending, it was hard to argue with her sentiment.
“You did well, Merit,” Alessia said with a wink. “I was right to bet on you.”
“And…” I cleared my throat, doing my best to appear nonchalant. “There’s nothing else you know about the situation with Apep? No helpful data?”
“We’ve told you everything we know,” O said. There was complete finality in her words.
“You’re off, then?” I asked. “Did you fly here just for this meeting?”
“Fly.” Alessia nearly giggled. “Of course not. But it seems someone has warded your place so thoroughly that we were forced to use the lobby like peasants. We couldn’t cross your threshold without an invitation, which was excellent work on the warder’s part.”
“The Prince of Hell,” I said.
“Mmm,” Alessia hummed, as though she was still uncomfortable with granting him credit where credit was due. She said, “We’ll do you the favor of exiting through the front door so that your poor receptionist doesn’t think we live here now.”
I saw them to the door and pretended I was put together as I waved goodbye. I waited until the elevator dinged before I turned to Silas. Softly, I said, “I guess we found you somewhere to go.”
His eyes had a downturned quality, almost as if he might cry.
He looked at me sadly before saying, “Your life is complicated enough, Marlow. The least I could do was take myself out of the equation. Besides…” He lifted his hand as if to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear as he’d done once before, but this time it fell to his side.
“I meant it when I said it: I don’t regret anything that’s happened between us.
Even though I know you’re always going to choose him. ”