“If Isis and Osiris support me, then the rest of the Elders and Great Elders will join with them,” Anubis said slowly, thinking aloud. “But why would they want to back my claim?”
“They have no children of their own. After Aten, you are their next nephew. And they have never shown an interest in ruling just one continent in one realm. Millennia ago, they announced that one day they would rule a myriad of worlds, even if they had to create those worlds themselves.” Bastet pointed over the edge of the craft. “Capture Marethyu. You did it before, you can do it again. You will have to move swiftly to arrest your brother, but the anpu answer only to you. Then send some anpu to Murias to capture Abraham and all who support him.”
“Then what should I do, Mother?”
Bastet’s huge yellow eyes blinked in surprise. She turned her face to the north, where the volcano prison Huracan rose over the island. “Why, you must feed them—all of them, Aten, Marethyu, Abraham and the foreign prisoners—into the fires of the volcano.”
Anubis nodded. “And when should I do this?”
Bastet pointed below to where Aten had taken Marethyu’s hand in his, sealing whatever bargain they had just made. “Now would be a good time.” Her claws wrapped around her son’s pawlike hands, squeezing tightly enough to draw blood. “Kill them, Anubis. Kill them all, and Danu Talis is yours.”
“And yours, Mother,” Anubis whispered, trying to extricate his torn hands.
“And mine,” she agreed. “We will rule for all eternity.”
ars Ultor stopped at the corner of Broadway and Scott Street to catch his breath. Leaning against a redbrick wall, he looked back down Broadway. He hadn’t realized it was all uphill, and his legs, long unused to exercise, were two solid pillars of pain, muscles cramping and spasming. When Zephaniah had released him from his bone prison deep beneath Paris, centuries of encrusted and hardened aura had fallen to dust around his feet, stripping him of much of his huge bulk, taking inches off his height. Beneath the shell, he’d been horrified to discover that his once-muscular body was flabby and soft, and his legs in particular felt weak, barely able to support his weight. But at least Mars Ultor could get his strength back; Zephaniah would forever be without her eyes, which she had traded to Chronos in return for the knowledge that would keep her husband safe. Mars Ultor drew in a deep breath. When all of this was over—and presuming that he survived—he thought he would pay a visit to the loathsome Chronos. No doubt the repulsive Elder still had Zephaniah’s eyes in a jar somewhere. Maybe he could be persuaded to part with them. Mars laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. He could be very persuasive.
Turning left, he started up Scott Street.
The Elder felt the extraordinary wash of power and had already stepped away from the road even before the stripped-down, battered army surplus jeep carrying three people pulled up to the curb, tires squealing on the pavement.
A tall, striking-looking Native American with copper skin and hatchet-sharp features leaned out. “You’re Mars.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Who wants to know?” Mars Ultor asked, looking up and down the street, wondering if this was an attack.
One of the figures in the back of the jeep sat forward and tilted up the brim of a Stetson cowboy hat to reveal a patch over his right eye. “I do.”
Mars Ultor froze. “Odin?”
Then the third person, smaller, wrapped in a heavy duffle coat, pushed back the hood to reveal a narrow canine face, with two thick fangs jutting from beneath her upper lips. It was a woman, wearing dark wraparound sunglasses that covered most of her face but could not conceal the streaks of black liquid running from her eyes.
“Hel?”
“Uncle,” she rasped.
Blue eyes huge in his pale face, Mars Ultor looked from Odin to Hel and then turned to the driver. “Am I still dreaming?”
“If you are, then this is a nightmare.” The driver held out his hand, revealing his muscular forearms. A thick turquoise band encircled his wrist. “I’m Ma-ka-tai-me-she-kia-kiak.” He was dressed in worn jeans, old cowboy boots and a faded Grand Canyon T-shirt. “But you can call me Black Hawk. My master is Quetzalcoatl. He sent me to collect this pair”—he jerked his thumb behind him—“and I got a call a little while ago, asking me to pick you up. Oh, and he sends his regards, too.” Black Hawk leaned over as Mars climbed into the passenger seat. “But I don’t think he was sincere.” He revved the engine and turned to look at the mismatched trio. “What is this, some sort of badly dressed Elders convention?”
Still shocked, Mars ignored the driver and swiveled around to look at the two Elders behind him. “The last time I saw you two, you were at one another’s throats.”
“That was then …,” Odin said.
“… and this is now,” Hel lisped. “Now we have a common enemy. An utlaga servant who thinks he can become the master.”
Black Hawk pulled away from the curb and crawled up the hill, dark eyes darting left and right, checking for an address.
“There is a humani called John Dee,” Odin said.
Mars Ultor nodded. “Zephaniah told me about him. She said that he had attempted to raise Coatlicue in order to set her on us.”
“Dee destroyed the Yggdrasill,” Odin said, reverting to a language that predated the arrival of the humani by millennia.
“He killed Hekate.”
There was the sudden stink of burnt meat and a purple-red shimmer darkened the Elder’s flesh. “Ah, my dear wife forgot to tell me that. A humani killed Hekate?” Mars Ultor asked, voice trembling with rage. “Your Hekate?” he said to Odin.
The Elder nodded. “My Hekate,” he whispered.
“And destroyed the Yggdrasill,” Hel repeated. “The Shadowrealms of Asgard, Niflheim and the World of Darkness were destroyed. The gates to another six worlds have collapsed, sealing them off forever, dooming them to stagnation and destruction.”
“One man did this?” Mars asked.
“The humani Dee,” Hel said. She leaned forward, enfolding Mars in a foul miasma. “Dee’s masters want him alive. But while Dee lives, he is a danger to us all. My uncle and I are joined in common purpose: we are here to kill Dee.” She rested a clawed hand on Mars Ultor’s shoulder. “It would be a mistake to stand against us.”
Mars swept the Elder’s fingers off his shoulder as if he were brushing away some lint. “Don’t even think about threatening me, niece. I know I have been gone a long time. Perhaps you have forgotten who I am. What I am.”
“We know who you are, cousin,” Odin said quietly. “We know what you are—we all lost friends and relatives to your rages. The more important question is: why are you here?”
Mars Ultor smiled. “Well, for once, cousin and niece, we are on the same side. This very day my wife freed me and tasked me with a single mission: to kill Dr. John Dee.”
Black Hawk pulled the jeep over and cut the engine before either of the Elders in the backseat could respond. “We’re here,” the Native American immortal announced.
“Where?” Mars Ultor asked.
“The home of Tsagaglalal the Watcher.”
Mars and Odin were helping Hel out of the jeep when the door opened and Prometheus and Niten, both wrapped in their auric armor, appeared at the top of the steps leading to the house. The air soured with a mixture of scents—burnt meat and green tea, anise, sarsaparilla and rotting fish—and then, with a howl of rage, Mars Ultor produced a short sword from beneath his leather jacket and launched himself at Prometheus, the blade flickering toward his throat.
’ve just been talking to the boy,” Virginia Dare said, catching up with John Dee as he strode down the pathway that wound around the island.
Dee glanced sidelong at the woman but did not speak.
Virginia shook her head, loosening the knot of hair tied at her neck and letting it fall down her back once more. “He asked me what happens when all the monsters are released into the city.”
“There will be terror,” Dee
said, waving his hand in the air. “Chaos.”
“Ah yes, your specialty, Doctor. But what about the Elders?” She raised one eyebrow. “I thought the plan was that the monsters would ravage the city, and then the Elders would appear and save the day.”
“Yes, that was the original plan.”
They rounded a corner and the wind coming in low across the bay whipped at them. San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge rose across the water through an early-afternoon haze. “I take it the plan has changed.”
“It changed.”
Virginia exhaled a deep breath in frustration. “Do I have to drag every sentence out of you, or are you going to share with me? You got me involved, after all. I was happy in London, content and invisible. Now I have a price on my head because of you.”
Dee remained silent.
“You are starting to irritate me,” Virginia said very quietly. “And you do not want to make me angry. I don’t believe you’ve ever actually seen me angry.”
The Magician glanced over his shoulder. Machiavelli was chatting with Billy, while Josh trailed behind them. The three were far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to hear him, but he still lowered his voice to little more than a whisper. “I made you promises.”
“You promised me this world.”
“I did.”
“And I expect you to make good on your promise.”
The doctor nodded. “I am—and have always been—a man of my word.”
“No, Doctor. You are—and have always been—a consummate liar,” Virginia said, “but at least you’ve always been careful to tell me the truth.” Her voice turned as chill as the wind gusting across the bay. “It is the only thing that has kept you alive these many centuries.”
Dee nodded. “You are right, of course. I have never intentionally lied to you.” He sighed. “These last few days have been … difficult.”
“Difficult?” Virginia Dare smiled. “That would seem to be an understatement.” Her smile broadened into a grin. “In the space of a week, you have gone from being an agent—no, more than that, the agent—of the greatest of the Dark Elders to being declared utlaga. They want you dead. You have slain an Elder and destroyed countless Shadowrealms.”
“You don’t have to remind me …,” Dee began, but Virginia continued.
“In only seven days, everything you have ever worked for, everything you have ever believed in, has been changed and changed utterly.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you!” Dee raised his voice.
“I’m curious to see how you extricate yourself, Doctor.”
“Well, as you say: you’re in this with me now. You’ve spent most of your life in the shadows, Virginia. But now the spotlight has been shone on you. The Elders and their Next Generation and humani mercenaries will come for me, but they’ll be hunting you, as well.”
“Which is precisely my problem with you,” Virginia said, fingers closing around her wooden flute. She could feel it grow warm beneath her flesh.
“I have a plan,” Dee said.
“I thought you might.”
“A dangerous plan.”
“I have no doubt about it.”
Dee stopped before a jumbled pile of boulders on the narrow beach. He looked back at Josh and the approaching immortals. “These last few days have taught me a lot. They made me realize that I should be the master and not the slave. And the week has not been a complete write-off,” he continued.
“May I remind you that your offices have burned to the ground, you have no money and there is nowhere safe for you on this Shadowrealm? Even your plan to release Coatlicue has failed.”
“But I do have the four Swords of Power and the Codex. Well, most of the Codex,” he amended. “Flamel still has the last two pages.”
“Has he?” Virginia Dare thought about that for a moment. “You could trade what you have—the four swords and the Book—to the Elders. That might be worth your freedom and your life.”
“That would be selling them far too cheaply. With the swords and the Codex … there is little I cannot do.”
“As soon as you activate the swords, you will betray your position to the Elders. Sell them the swords in return for banishment to an obscure Shadowrealm.”
“I’ve come up with a much better idea. I promised you this world,” Dee said quickly. “But I think I am in a position to offer you more, much, much more.”
“Tell me,” Dare said, suddenly interested.
“You have always been greedy. You told me you want to rule.”
“John …,” she said, a note of warning in her voice.
“Stay with me,” Dee said urgently, “believe in me, protect and support me, and I will give you not just one world to rule, and not two or three, but all of them.”
“All?” Virginia shook her head in frustration. “John, you’re not making sense.”
Dee giggled. “How would you like to rule the myriad Shadowrealms?”
“Which ones?”
“Just as I have said—all of them.”
“That’s not possible.…”
“Oh, but it is. And I know how to do it.” The Magician laughed again, the sound high-pitched and hysterical.
“And if I get the Shadowrealms, what do you get, Dr. Dee?”
“One world—just one. I want the first world. The original.”
“You want Danu Talis?” Virginia Dare breathed.
He nodded. “Danu Talis.” His eyes glittered madly. “I want Danu Talis, but not to rule—you could rule it for me if you wished. I’ve spent my entire life in search of knowledge. But in one location, I would have the entire knowledge of four great races—Elder, Archon, Ancient and Earthlord—gathered together.”
Virginia stared at him blankly.
“I will make you the new Isis. I will make you the empress of the Shadowrealms.” He moved ahead of Dare and then swung around so that he was facing her. He walked backward, his eyes fixed on hers. “I have never lied to you, Virginia. You have said so yourself. Think about it—Virginia Dare: Empress of the Shadowrealms.”
“I like the sound of that,” Virginia said quietly. “What do you want me to do?”
“Video et taceo,” he said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she said, impatient.
“It is the motto of someone I once loved. It means ‘I see and say nothing.’ So why don’t you take that advice—shut up, watch closely and say nothing.”
hat laugh is starting to freak me out,” Billy murmured.
Machiavelli nodded. “I fear the pressure is beginning to get to the doctor.”
“They’re up to something,” Billy said, looking ahead to where Dee and Dare were deep in conversation.
“You know Virginia Dare better than I do,” the Italian said. “Do you trust her?”
Billy stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “The last person I trusted shot me in the back.”
“I’ll take that as a no, then.”
“Niccolò, I like her. We’ve had some great adventures together. She’s saved my life on a couple of occasions, and I’ve saved hers.” He started to smile and then his face creased in pain. “But Virginia is … well, she’s … she’s just a little strange.”
“Billy,” Machiavelli said with a laugh, “we’re all a little strange.” He shivered in the breeze and pulled his ruined suit jacket closed.
“But Virginia’s stranger than most.” The American shook his head. “She is an immortal humani, but she is different—dangerously different. She grew up alone, running wild in the woods of Virginia. The local Native American tribes looked out for her, left her food and clothes. I think they believed she was a forest spirit or something like that. They feared her and called her a Windigo: a monster. When villagers went missing in the forest, it was said that they had been taken by the Windigo. And eaten.”
Machiavelli sucked in a breath. “Are you implying …”
Billy shook his head quickly. “I’m just telling
you the story. As far as I know, she’s a vegetarian,” he added. “She’s always been vague with the dates, but she didn’t learn to speak until she was ten or eleven. At that point she could already communicate fluently with animals and her forest craft was second to none, but I don’t know how she survived, I have no idea what she had to do. And I’m not going to ask, either. What I do know is that those years damaged her. She doesn’t really care too much for people, though she’s never met an animal she couldn’t tame. She told me once that she was happiest when she ruled over the woods of Virginia, where all the creatures knew her, and the natives honored and feared her.”
“I had no idea,” Machiavelli said. “There isn’t much information in her file.”
“Do you know she killed her master?”
Machiavelli nodded. “I know that. And I know that she and Dee were close. I believe they may even have been betrothed, though I am sure it was not a love match.”
“I also know this,” Billy continued, “she wants to rule. In a couple of the nearby Shadowrealms, she is revered as a goddess. She wants people to worship her and to fear her, just like the natives in Virginia did.”
“Yes. It makes her feel needed,” Machiavelli said. “Hardly surprising for a girl who was abandoned as a baby. So she is dangerous?”
“Oh, she is that. In most of those Shadowrealms, she’s worshipped as a goddess of death,” Billy said grimly. “The last mistake you will ever make is to underestimate her. The second-to-last would be to trust her.”
At that moment the Magician’s maniacal laughter was carried back on the wind. “I wonder, does Dee know that?” Machiavelli asked. “Would she be loyal to him … if anything were to happen?”
Billy looked at the Italian carefully. “And what might happen?” he said softly.