CHAPTER 4
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BY THE TIME BEX got her bearings, she’d already hurtled out of the fir tree’s thicker upper branches and was now falling through the open air beside its skyscraper-sized trunk.
She was so high up, her eyes had trouble making out the canopies of the smaller—but still gigantic—trees she was falling into.
She had no problem seeing the shadow of the giant raven diving after her, though.
“Ho, ho, ho,” the bird croaked in a smug, rasping voice. “Didn’t Ishtar teach you to catch yourself? It’s a good thing my precious witchlings vouched for you. You’d be eaten in a second if you came into my forest with such sloppy moves.”
Bex’s reply to that was to slam her hands toward the ground.
Flames blasted out of her palms a second later, creating enough opposite thrust to turn her fall into a hover.
She was still trying to get the balance right when the giant talons closed around her body once more, stopping her flight and flipping her over before bringing Bex face-to-face with the most monstrous bird she’d ever seen.
It was similar to a crow with jet-black feathers and a sharp black beak, but no mortal bird had ever had such a delightedly bloodthirsty gleam in its beady eyes.
The thing looked like it was getting ready to pick every bit of flesh off Bex’s bones, but when she swung her burning hands up to grab it, the bird smacked her fists away with a flick of its beak.
“There’s no call for that,” it croaked, spreading its giant wings to check their fall.
“Your mother and I never could cross paths without trying to tear each other’s eyes out, but the two of us have a shared enemy.
That makes us allies of a sort, so I will overlook your participation in the callous murder of my son and greet you, youngest daughter of the fool known as Ishtar. ”
Bex lowered her burning hands cautiously.
The giant bird’s arrogance certainly matched the other gods she’d spoken to.
But while she didn’t appreciate being talked down to, Bex really didn’t want to get into an aerial battle with an opponent who was clearly better equipped for it.
She also didn’t want to waste her energy fighting anyone who wasn’t Gilgamesh or his sons if she could help it, but that didn’t mean she was going to roll over and take this.
“Who are you?” she demanded, leaning against the crow’s talons to show she wasn’t afraid.
“Some humility would serve you well,” the crow scolded, turning its enormous head to look at Bex with each of its giant beady black eyes in turn. “But I know better than to expect manners from a child of Paradise, so I won’t waste my breath except to say that you may call me the Morrigan.”
Bex had thought so. The Morrigan was the crow goddess Adrian had told her about, the one who’d eaten the crazy prince Leander had sent to kill him.
She’d also eaten Adrian’s finger, but saving his life and their attack on the Anchor balanced that out, and Bex wasn’t exactly in a position to hold a grudge right now.
“Okay, ‘the Morrigan’,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you want, and what does it have to do with throwing me off a tree?”
“I threw you because you were distracting my sweet Agatha,” the goddess replied, tucking Bex closer to her feathered belly as she swooped in a spiral around the fir tree’s giant trunk.
“She needs all of her attention to save the life of her delicious son, whose flesh I very much look forward to sampling again.”
Bex’s scowl deepened.
“As for what I want, that’s easy,” the Morrigan continued, turning her sharp beak toward the golden palace hidden behind the glittering shield. “I want Gilgamesh to die in agony for the harm he’s heaped upon my forest and my witches.”
That was a plan Bex could get behind, but she still didn’t understand. “Are you the goddess of witches?”
“Never,” the crow snapped. “Those who belong to the Blackwood need no gods. I’m more of a benevolent neighbor. I help the witches in return for payment and the advancement of our mutual interests, which include you at the moment.”
“Why didn’t you help me before I lost my horns, then?” Bex asked bitterly. “It’s a little too late now.”
“Now is the perfect time,” the goddess promised.
“My sweet Muriel is never wrong about these things. Helping you earlier would have tipped our hand, but losing your crown, sword, and name was what caused Gilgamesh to ignore you long enough to allow your incursion into the Hells and their subsequent destruction. That’s heaps more than any of the idiot Rebexas before you ever managed, so clearly, your horns aren’t as important as you think. ”
“Not as important?” Bex squawked. “I can’t draw my sword!”
“Why not?” the Morrigan asked, tilting her head like an actual curious crow. “Isn’t it yours?”
“No,” Bex said with a wince. “It’s Rebexa’s, and I’m not her anymore. That’s my whole problem. I can’t pull my sword without the royal name bestowed upon me by my horns, and I can’t get my horns back without my sword.”
It was an obviously hopeless situation, but the Morrigan just gave Bex a frustrated shake.
“And here I thought Ishtar’s daughters were supposed to be clever,” she croaked in disgust. “If you need your name to get your sword and your sword to get your name, then there’s only two solutions. You must either get a new sword—”
“No!” Bex shrieked, clutching her black ring to her chest. “Drox is my family!”
“Would you let me finish?” the crow snapped, striking Bex painfully on the head with the sharp tip of her beak. “As I was saying, you must either get a new sword or get a new name.”
Bex stopped rubbing her smarting head to stare at the goddess in wonder. “A new name?” she repeated in a trembling voice. “Could you give me one?”
“I didn’t mean from me,” the Morrigan said, crushing Bex’s newborn hope before it could finish rising. “I was never part of the Paradise fiasco, which is why I’m still alive.”
Bex scowled. “Then what are you—”
“I am still a wise and powerful goddess, however,” the Morrigan went on, speaking over her. “And as someone so much older and cleverer than Ishtar’s clumsy creations could ever hope to be, I will benevolently remind you of them.”
She tilted her wings as she spoke. They’d been gliding slowly down this whole time, but the Morrigan must’ve planned this from the start, because the moment she said “them,” they came back around the giant tree, and the square by the Hells’ Gate came back into view.
The sight made Bex go still. The newly plant-covered section of the White City was overflowing with a shocking number of demons.
The sheer size of the crowd staring up at her was almost more than Bex’s brain could handle.
She’d been told how many demons they’d saved from the Hells several times, but she’d never actually seen them all together in one place before this moment.
They’d always been scattered between buildings or moving in smaller groups.
Now, though, the sudden appearance of the Blackwood had brought the entire population of Gilgamesh’s former slaves out into the open.
There were so many demons crowded into the square that even standing shoulder to shoulder, they still filled the entire plaza surrounding the entrance to the Hells.
Still more had packed themselves into the tree-filled side streets while others leaned over the balconies of the listing apartment buildings.
There were winged demons perching in the trees and war demons pouring out of the Hells’ Gate from the drinking-water distillery in former sin-iron forges to see what the commotion was about.
More demons than she’d ever realized existed were pointing up at them right now, but while the Morrigan was smirking like that was the answer to everything, Bex still didn’t understand.
“I don’t get it,” she said, clinging to the Morrigan’s talons as she stared at the sea of demons below them. “What do my people have to do with my name?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” the crow replied with a chuckle. “But unlike some gods, I don’t believe in giving answers away for free, so here’s a question of my own instead. What makes a queen a queen?”
Bex thought about that for a moment. “Power?”
“But where does that power come from?” the Morrigan pressed. “Obviously it was Ishtar initially, but she’s been dust for eons. If she was still strong enough to swing a sword at Gilgamesh, she’d be out here doing it herself, but she’s not. Instead, she’s relying on you.”
The crow tilted her huge beak to look straight down at Bex.
“Why do you think that is? If your crown and name are truly the source of your power, but the goddess who gave them to you is so weak that she can’t even talk to you unless you die, how are you a queen?
Where does the power to name demons come from if not Ishtar? ”
Bex had no idea. She hated riddles, and she hated wasting time. Her loyal wrath demons had already suffered long enough. She needed to be down there evacuating them through the Blackwood back to Earth, where they could get food, not stuck up here playing guessing games with—
She stopped, glowing eyes flying wide. “It’s my demons.”
“Your demons, you say?” The Morrigan flashed her a smile, which was how Bex learned that her beak was full of razor-sharp teeth. “And what makes you think that?”