Chapter Thirty-Four
Torr took us through the Aether in yet another vein of Internet since we weren't sure if Ala Mmuo would let us in. We also had a huge group coming with us, even with my Intare, the Vilcacis, and most of the Froekn staying behind. Luckily, the territory recognized my touch and let us in.
We left the tracing hut to find the territory calm. Although no souls wandered the grasslands. I assumed they were hiding in their homes. I certainly would have been.
We found Agwusi where we left her—covered in gold chains on the floor of the machine room. Fenrir snarled when he saw the chains and picked her up.
“We'll watch over this one out here while you handle things.” Fenrir carried Agwusi out of the room.
“What are you doing?” Agwusi cried. “Vervain, you can't destroy it. If you do, you'll destroy the realms!”
The gods went still, staring after her. But it was no revelation. We had known how dangerous this would be.
“All right, everyone who isn't connecting with a relic, get out,” Odin said. “All but you, Vervain. You're the only one who can communicate with this thing.”
As the relic owners drew closer to the machine, the other gods retreated to the hallway and the living room.
Agwusi's warning shouts echoed down to us a few seconds longer before they suddenly stopped.
I glanced at the door. Fenrir wouldn't kill her, but he'd take great pleasure in knocking her out.
“I'll go first,” Odin said. “I'm hoping that once I disconnect the condenser from the other relics, we'll be able to remove them without destroying them.”
My eyes widened. I hadn’t considered that the mirror broke because it had been bonded to all the relics. “Good idea.”
“Do you really think so?” Freya asked.
“I said, I hope so.” Odin stepped closer to the machine. “Nothing is certain with this machine.”
I glanced at the remains of Amy's mirror, still scattered on the floor beside the machine. “I hope so too.”
Shango, standing to Freya's right, leaned closer to her. “Hey, beautiful, how about I buy you dinner after this?”
Freya turned to look at him disdainfully. “Perhaps wait until after we've stopped this machine from destroying the realms to hit on me.”
Shango chuckled. “That wasn't a no.”
“Will you shut the fuck up?!” Ereshkigal growled. “Odin is about to connect with his relic. It might be helpful if he didn't have to listen to you slobbering over Freya.”
Hephaestus snickered. “Oh, I like you.”
Ereshkigal inclined her head to Hephaestus.
“You arrogant bitch,” Shango snarled. “Do you think that your pantheon predating mine makes you better than me?
You're obsolete! Your fucking keys don't even matter.
No living human believes in you anymore.
You're dwindling while my pantheon flourishes. My people are loyal and strong. Yours are dead.”
“That may be true, Orisha.” Ereshkigal lifted her chin. “But that doesn't weaken me. I am the Queen of the Dead. I don't need the living. What are you the Orisha of? Dancing, is it?”
Hephaestus burst out laughing.
Even Shango chuckled. “I am a fine dancer. But I'm the God of Thunder, Lightning, Fire, Justice, Strength, and Virility.” He winked at Freya. “The living worship me, and they still offer me sacrifices. Not many gods can say that.”
“All right, keep it in your pants, Shango,” I drawled.
“What are you afraid of, Godhunter? That none of your hundreds of husbands will come close to my glory?”
My husbands, those who stood in the hallway, growled.
But before either Odin or I could respond, Freya had Shango's throat in her grip and shoved him against the wall.
She was a tall woman and used her height to lift him off his feet.
As Shango's dark eyes went wide and flashed with lightning, Freya shoved her face into his.
“One of her husbands stands there, you pathetic fool!” Freya hissed.
“Odin is the King of the Norse Gods, my liege, and more of a man than you could ever be.” She squeezed tighter when he struggled, his hands gripping her upper arm.
“The Vikings may be gone, but their legend endures because they were the baddest motherfuckers on the planet. So exalted are we that to this day, humans from all races choose to worship the Norse Pantheon! Witches call to me daily. There are movies about us. Songs written. We have days of the week named after us. What do you have to brag about?” She looked him up and down as if she found him lacking and then shoved him away.
As Shango stumbled back, Freya added, “Insult the Allfather or his bride again, and I will remove that piece of flesh you prize and feed it to my cats.”
“And I have seven husbands,” I added, feeling a little left out of my husbands' defense. “All of whom are better men than you.”
“Thanks, babe,” Viper said.
But Shango didn't hear me. He was focused on Freya. For a second, I thought he was going to attack her, but then I realized that the look on his face was awe, not anger. And the bulge in his pants betrayed how much he enjoyed a powerful woman.
“Holy shit, woman,” Shango whispered and approached her as he might approach a skittish horse. “You're the most wondrous thing I've ever beheld.”
Freya snorted and bowed to Odin. “Forgive me for speaking on your behalf, Allfather.”
Yup, Freya and the Valkyries might bluster at Odin, but when it came down to it, they had his back. It was one of those family things—I can insult my brother, but if you do, I'll kick your ass.
Odin chuckled. “Nothing to forgive, Freya. I appreciate your loyalty. But now, can we focus on the task at hand?” He looked around the group. “The fate of the realms hangs in the balance.”
“No pressure,” Re drawled.
As the gods went still, Odin held his hands out toward the machine, but didn't touch it.
Instead, he closed his eyes and sent his senses forth.
Seconds passed. I fought the urge to scratch my nose.
But the more I focused on not scratching, the itchier it became until I gave in.
I caught Ereshkigal frowning at me and lowered my hand.
Still, Odin remained in his relic meditation.
I glanced at my other husbands, at the front of the group in the hallway.
They were scowling, recognizing, as I did, that Odin was struggling.
Behind them, Hades's eyes blazed, and Ninkasi looked back and forth between Odin and Ereshkigal.
I was so focused on everyone else that when Odin came gasping out of his trance, I yipped.
Odin turned to me. “I can't reach it. I may be its present owner, but the Fey made the magic condenser for Nuada. It will not bond with me. I think you need to drain it, Vervain.”
“Oh.” I looked at the machine. “Yeah, you're probably right. Is it similar to reaching for our bond?”
“Yes, precisely.”
“All right.” I stepped toward the machine.
“La-la,” Re called.
I looked over my shoulder at him.
“The machine may have infected the condenser.” Re glanced at Odin, who nodded. “If it has, try to separate the infection from the condenser first.”
“I'll try,” I muttered as I closed my eyes.
I mean, how do you separate the magic of a god relic, made by the Fey, from the magic of a machine made under the instruction of a real god? If I were just going to destroy the condenser, I wouldn't have bothered. But I wanted to try Odin's plan of separating it from the other relics first.
Fear shot through me. The machine had established a bond with me. What if this strengthened our bond?
But then I felt it—the brightness of Faerie Magic holding something heavier and far more aggressive.
The Fey worked with the elements, with Nature, when they wove their enchantments.
They could draw upon the Nine Great Magics if they wanted to create a truly powerful item, but even that was working in harmony with their world.
Forged with aggression, the machine imprisoned magic to function.
The power within it was dominant. It had to be in order to control the god relics.
Excuse me, god relics and one fey relic.
How had I forgotten that the magic condenser had been a gift to Nuada from the Fey?
He had fostered his relationship with the faeries while most of the other gods had drawn away.
The magic condenser had gone to Odin after Nuada died.
But as much as it tolerated my husband, it longed for the feel of a fey hand.
Faerie magic surged to meet me like a hound welcoming its mistress home.
No, it was more desperate than that. The magic condenser knew of its entrapment and did not approve of the machine’s purpose.
The machine acted against nature and therefore against the magic of the condenser.
It took very little effort to separate it from the machine's magic.
I smiled as I went deeper, searching for the bond between it and the other relics. An anxious whirring came from the machine, but I ignored it. If we hurried, we could get this done before it affected the realms. I might even save the relics.
“Stop!” Hades shouted.
My eyes flashed open, and my hold on the condenser broke. It scrambled for me, but then the machine's magic surged back into it.
“Damn it, Hades!” I growled. “I just cleared the machine's infection from the condenser. It was working.”
“And it was killing my territory.” Hades pushed through my husbands and stumbled, panting, into the room.
“It was coming for Olympus as well,” Athena's voice came from the back of the corridor.
“And Duat.” Anubis entered the room with Athena. “It was lashing out at us.”
“How do you know it was targeting you?” Odin asked.
“It felt like acid in my soul.” Anubis looked at Hades.
Hades nodded. “I know what anger feels like, and that was it. Not just anger.” He looked at the machine. “Hate.” He looked up at me. “If a god helped to create this, he is not a good god.”
I shivered. It had never occurred to me that the powerful entity watching over me could be evil.
The very nature of someone guarding another felt good.
Even when the machine showed me the future, I didn't feel malevolence.
But then it wouldn't show that to me, would it?
Not when it wanted me to join it. And just because something is watching you, it doesn't mean it's watching over you.
“If this god is evil, and he's chosen me for this, what does that mean?” I looked at Odin as I remembered how the machine had tried to invade my star. Or maybe it was testing me to see how evil I was.
Odin took my hand. “Everyone has good and evil in them. Perhaps it is true for real gods as well. And their creations. I think there were good intentions for this machine, but it has developed a life of its own, and, as any living creature would, it will do anything to protect itself.”
“I don't know, Odin.” Hades stared at the machine. “This was beyond self-defense. It felt like a vicious attack.”
“So, what do we do now?” I asked.
Odin looked around the room and then settled his peacock-colored gaze on me. “I don't know.”