Chapter 15 #2
I waved a quieting hand but didn’t wait for the full cooperation of their silence. My apathetic smile cracked, a white row of teeth shining as I stripped emotion from my voice, save for calm, assured amusement.
“I will kill any god, any servant, any fae, any one of your faithful. I will smite them on your soil. I will watch them die, and there is nothing—” The cries of outrage nearly drowned the speech, but my cool certainty kept the corners of my mouth turned upward.
I raised my voice, but there was no anger in my yell.
The loud, booming threat clashed with my unsettling smile.
“And before you leave, you will press your consent to this treaty to our scroll. All who participate have made an ally in Hell, and no harm will befall you, as long as you don’t lay a hand on my human. ”
A sizzle from one end of the stadium sliced the veil as three goddesses slipped out of the symposium, making a show of their non-compliance. A swirling black crack in the world allowed a few more to escape. Dozens departed. Thousands remained.
The moment my father stood, he commanded the room. I held fast, anchoring myself to the axis between pantheons as he gave his final decree.
His wings flared once more, all eyes on the tall, regal freedom fighter in a simple, silver crown. They watched the deity whose act of rebellion began a civil war that would ripple through the world.
“I will add an addendum to the treaty. Gods will not be responsible for favoring or protecting this human. They will not be punished for natural mortality, nor for the actions of godless humans acting outside of the will of the region’s deity.”
Semantics.
“You may stay, you may feast, you may drink Hell’s finest wines and luxuriate in palace suites reserved for gods.
Discuss what you must with me and my retinue.
Before you leave, touch your finger to the treaty.
Sign and have an ally in my people from now until the prophecy between my son and his human has been fulfilled.
” The King flicked his wrist and a scroll hovered inches above his upturned palm.
“Stay as long as you’d like and read, reread, study, and make your decision.
Your regional entities known for wisdom and counsel are welcome, and Hell’s veil will remain open, should you call them in to examine the treaty.
For once you’ve agreed to it, the contract cannot be broken. ”
From the upper corner, still snarling, a guttural voice spoke to the King rather than me.
“We’re supposed to sign a binding contract that allows him to kill our gods at will?”
It was the King’s turn to smile. “You avoid hurting an individual every day. Jarovid, is it? Tell me, have you ever harmed, or have you commanded a friend or worshipper, to harm Perun?”
His question was laughable. Had the Slavic god of anger ever tried to murder the highest god in their realm? Their tales were still too fresh and sacred for their people to put their legends to paper, but their pantheon’s supremacy was without question.
The King didn’t wait for an answer. “No? So, it seems you’re already an expert at avoiding killing a single entity. Simply…continue doing that. If you cannot comply, you are free to leave.”
Jarovid split the air beside him, but before he stepped through the veil, I commanded the floor once more.
“Tell them.”
Rippling muscles, full beard, and a ferocity for the ages stared me down.
I leaned toward him, one foot in front of the other, challenging the god of rage, war, and fire before the convergence of deities. “Confess to every god and goddess sitting in Hell’s stadium today the role you played in this blood oath.”
The veil remained torn at his side, but he returned my threatening posture, leaning into my threat. “I didn’t lay a finger on her.”
“How many missionaries had reached your mountains? Three? The faith we battle wasn’t even a threat to you. Not yet. Not when you captured her. Not when you tortured her. Not when you tied her wrists and ankles and sent your horses in four directions.”
Words like tumbling gravel, he snarled, “I. Didn’t. Lay. A—”
“Mastislav. Yaropolk. Zbiginew. Vojin. Your men. Your faithful. They wore your sigil as they invaded her home in the night. You ensured the beer flowed freely that night as they passed her around. Her death was a welcome relief after what was done to her in your name.”
He reached for his weapon. If I hadn’t been frothing with hate, I might have laughed.
“They’re dead now, of course. Along with a handful of your spirits, cryptids, and what is it that you call demons? That’s right. Aitvaras. They serve you by haunting your enemies in the afterlife, right? Well, served. Good luck finding a single Aitvaras in the mountains you’ve cursed.”
I’d spent a long time topside—enough to know how this information would land on human ears—but I’d been with gods before we conceded to the mortal concept of time.
As such, news of a god harming a mortal garnered little reaction from the deities intently listening, save for a few soft gasps from the tender-hearted.
Maybe they didn’t care that an immortal being had tortured a human.
But they would care why.
“You chose her because you knew she was mine.”
This had the stirring effect I’d been expecting.
“You didn’t even have a quarrel with Heaven. Hell was nothing to you. You’d heard of the woman with the opal aura, and in a pissing contest between realms, you took something that didn’t belong to you, simply because you believed you could send a message to a god.”
The murmurs swelled. The remaining members of his pantheon had their backs to me as they’d fully turned to stare at the perpetrator.
“Did it work, Jarovid? Do you feel powerful now? Do you feel safe?”
His face changed as he looked into my eyes. Fight turned to flight, and no parting battle cry could cover the truth of his disappearance. Jarovid stepped through the veil, disappearing from the stadium. A coward, running from the consequences of his actions.
He’d made a powerful enemy.
And I was on the precipice of receiving permission to act on my wrath.
Mokish, the Mother Earth of their realm, got to her feet. She straightened her dress. Cleared her throat delicately, then addressed the King.
“And if we sign this treaty, then someone”—she cast a glance to the empty space where Jarovid had been only moments prior—“violates it, is our entire realm at risk?”
My father turned to me for the answer.
“Only the perpetrator and those they used to facilitate it, Goddess,” I said.
“You’re binding yourself to non-retaliation, so you cannot call for vengeance if I kill the god who murdered my human.
Her life for theirs. If you’ll allow the indiscretion: I’m pretty confident saying that if Jarovid harms her, I’ll toss his head into the snow, and leave the rest of your gods, your people, and your land in peace. ”
The skin around her eyes crinkled with her smile. “In that case, I’ll be the first to sign your treaty.”
Many left.
Many stayed.
Many signed.
Many didn’t.
Hell gained unimaginable allies, though their terms left something to be desired.
They didn’t agree to battle on our behalf.
We weren’t to call on them for aid in battle.
But those who remained swore to stand firm against Heaven.
They would not touch my human. They would stand with Hell, should Heaven bring bloodshed to their soil.
They were no longer strangers, and certainly not our enemies.
The mass of oath-wary heavy-hitters left semantics for future negotiations.
Even some of the deserters didn’t quite set us up for battle-ready caution. They could return and sign the treaty at any time. They could refuse to sign it and still know better than to harm my human if she was on their soil.
The toppling stones of destiny had put things into motion long before my compliance. After today’s formal declaration, global eyes were on me, for better or for worse.
Despite how hard I’d fought against it, despite how much I’d loathed grandstanding before lords and ladies as they waited for promises I was unwilling to keep, despite the reaction when I’d calmly promised death to beings, mortal and immortal alike, I left the night with one, lone certainty.
Come the infernal sunrise, I would head to the surface, and I would find my human.