Chapter 28 The Phantom #2
You are no brother of mine! Bastard, traitor, outcast, most hated of all the gods…
The list of insults continues for a while until I find a gap and push through. Whatever you feel about me, I need your help. I may be forced to battle against a pack of shifters, and if you fight beside me, I will grant you anything you ask in exchange.
He hesitates. What could you possibly have that I would want?
Tell me what you most desire, and I will attempt to achieve it.
For several moments, he doesn’t reply. Then he snarls, I have been wandering the oceans of the world for more than a year.
With your resurrection, I regained some of my power, but the ocean is clogged with human waste and debris.
I am miserable, mired in their shit. The one who raised me promised me a glorious awakening of other gods, as many as he could find.
He swore we would have power again, that we would reign supreme and cure the evils of humanity.
I try to keep my mind on his words, but I’m also surveying the growing multitude of ghosts around me, all of them congregating on the rooftop of the New Orpheum and in the skies above. They’re waiting for my command, and the sound of their mutters and wails is nearly deafening.
Frowning beneath my mask, I concentrate on Manannan’s growling voice in my head.
My summoner has abandoned me, left me rudderless and nearly impotent.
This is not the existence he promised. He has not communicated with me in many months.
I want to speak with him and demand an explanation.
I wish to know if his great plan is still in motion or if he raised me up only to leave me in misery.
He abandoned me as well, I say. But I have some information that could help you contact him.
If you assist me tonight in my battle against the shifters of Nashville, I will give you everything I have that could help you speak with our summoner.
And… A pang dashes through me at the incentive I’m about to offer, the sacrifice I intend to make…
but I forge ahead. I will give you my lair, the refuge I have built, to be your own.
There is a canal within it that runs to the river and then to the sea, so you can take your aqueous form or your human form as you please. I assume you have a human form?
I do, he replies. I do not prefer it.
In physical form, you will be able to take greater advantage of the resources the humans possess, I tell him. They are wasteful, to be sure, but they can also be very entertaining. You might find your existence more bearable if you acclimate to their ways and technology. Will you come?
His voice in my mind darkens. Why are you in conflict with this pack of shifters?
They took my lovers from me.
It’s a sensitive point with him. I remember that much. My relationship with the Morrigan in times past caused a great rift among the Tuatha Dé Danann. With half a dozen words, I may have ensured that Manannan will never help me.
But to my surprise, he responds within a few minutes. I sense your location. Prepare for my arrival.
In his aqueous form, he can move from place to place almost instantly, as long as there are adjoining bodies of water between him and his destination. I have only moments before he surfaces in the canal beneath the New Orpheum.
I turn my attention to the assembly of ghosts. Though they are invisible to humans, to my eyes, they seem to fill the sky.
“I’m searching for two people,” I call out.
“You can perceive their images through your connection to me. Their names are Raoul de Chagny and Christine Daaé. Fly through the city, search every building. Go down to the steam tunnels and the sewers. Fly into the suburbs and the warehouses. Search everywhere, and when you find their location, tell me at once. Go!”
The ghosts whirl away, soaring through the night to do my bidding. Bodiless and soundless, they can rush through walls, searching places I could never access, and with their numbers, they’re sure to locate Christine and Raoul quickly.
I descend the stairs, trying to decipher my feelings about the impending encounter with Manannan.
There’s a strange quiver of anticipation in my stomach, yet every muscle in my body is tight with caution.
He has always been one of the most volatile and aggressive gods.
Not that I can remember specific instances of his volatility—it’s more of a vague impression.
When I reach the lair, I only have to wait for a few seconds before the water of the canal churns like black ichor in a cauldron.
Its bubbles explode into spray as a broad, sinewy form leaps out of the water onto the walkway beside the canal.
He rises, water streaming from his naked body and his big red beard.
“You’re looking at me as if you don’t remember me, Cernunnos,” he growls.
“When I was put into this body, someone tampered with my memories,” I tell him. “You look vaguely familiar, but my recollections of our past are blurred.”
His nostrils widen and his eyes burn with barely suppressed rage. “You should remember that I hate you. That I despise all your offspring, from generation to generation.”
“Offspring?” I give a rueful laugh. “I don’t remember any of them, although I know the line of banshees came from me and from…” I hesitate.
“Say it,” he presses. “Say her name.”
“The Morrigan.”
“Do you remember that I loved her?” His Irish accent is thicker than when he spoke in my mind, perhaps due to his mounting emotion. “Do you recall that you stole her from me?”
“I recall that she made her own choices,” I reply. “But I do not remember the specifics of what happened, nor do I carry any lingering love or desire for her. If she were raised today, perhaps she would be yours.”
“And that was the agreement I had with our summoner.” His huge fists clench. “He promised to bring forth Fate herself, in a body I could touch, with a voice I could hear. Where is he? Has he decided to break all his promises?”
“I do not know. But I have a phone number for him.”
Manannan stares at me.
“A phone is human technology used for communication. How long have you been at sea?”
“I know what a phone is!” He scoffs, then mutters a series of curses.
“Good. And there is much more I can teach you. I swear, if you help me now, I will help you find Lloyd-Henry so you can ask him about his promise to raise the Morrigan.”
“I’ll not be taught by the likes of you,” he growls. “Nor do I want this poppet’s parlor you call your ‘lair.’ But you’ll contact Lloyd-Henry for me. You’ll find him, and I’ll make him fulfill his word.”
“Yes.”
“Very well. Where are these shifters we need to kill?”
“I’ll have their location soon. And we may not need to kill all the shifters—only enough to free their captives. My lovers prefer it when I choose less violent paths.” I give him a grim smile. “In the meantime…let’s find you some clothes.”