As the Crow Flies (Book 19 in the Godhunter Series) Page 16

  Those two were close, probably the closest of my husbands, practically brothers. I knew this death omen was weighing heavily upon Trevor. If Kirill died, it wouldn't just destroy me, it would cripple Trevor too. So I knew when Trevor asked what we should do, it wasn't concerning the Formorians. Still, that was the answer he got.

  “We should see Nuada, he'll want to take a look at this,” Odin pulled out the crystal Bres had been using.

  “Fuck the Formorians,” Trevor growled. “I meant, what do we do about Kirill?”

  I smiled into Kirill's chest. I knew it. I didn't even have the heart to chastise Trevor over his language. I felt the same way. Fuck the Formorians. I couldn't care less now that they were out of Moonshine. They could parade down Kalakaua Avenue if they wanted. I'm sure the tourists would love them.

  “Let the Morrigan handle them,” I turned my head out of Kirill's chest to quickly declare, then snuggled my cheek right back where it belonged.

  “Tima, you can't stay here forever,” Kirill kissed my forehead.

  “Sure I can,” I squeezed him closer, “then I'll be sure you'll live. That's my solution, I'll just keep holding on.”

  “I'm right there with you,” Trevor's arms slid around us, and I laughed as I was pressed between them. A Trevor-Kirill sandwich was perfectly fine with me. “I got you, buddy,” Trevor added.

  “Zis is awkward,” Kirill grimaced.

  “Oh please,” Trevor scoffed. “Like we haven't been in this position before.”

  “Anyone got a camera?” Pan patted his pockets excitedly, and then pulled out his phone with a triumphant hoot. “Gold baby, this is pure gold.” He started taking pictures as I scowled at him. “The Godhunter and her husbands in an embrace with bi undertones,” Pan nodded. “Here comes the money. I'm gonna make it rain! Ca-ching!”

  We all lifted our heads and glared at Pan, but it was Kirill who simply said, “Post pictures and you vill die, horny little god.”

  Pan put away his phone with a pout and we all laughed. But the air of levity soon dissipated because we knew it wasn't Pan's life we needed to worry about.

  “Go speak vith Nuada,” Kirill pushed me back, and Trevor eased away with me. “I vill vait here if it makes you feel better.”

  “You can't fight fate,” Hekate scowled as she repeated Morrigan's words, “but perhaps we can negotiate.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked her.

  “Al told you to face things, and in her own way, so did Morrigan,” Hekate shrugged. “Perhaps the best course of action would be to take Kirill with you everywhere, and try to meet this fate as soon as possible. So that you can sway it into a different direction.”

  “Sway fate?” Odin lifted his brows.

  “All three of them,” Hekate smirked and I began to smile.

  “The Moirai,” Trevor whispered, “of course.”

  “I'm not saying that they can change Kirill's path,” Hekate held up her hand, “you know they are merely instruments, but they may be able to give us some advice.”

  “Alright,” I nodded. “Odin, why don't you and Thor go speak to Nuada while I take Kirill to see the Fates?”

  “And I,” Trevor declared, “I'm going with you to see the Moirai.”

  “And I,” Azrael nodded.

  “I as well,” Re added. “They like me best, after all.”

  We all rolled our eyes.

  “Well it was my suggestion, and I haven't seen the girls in forever,” Hekate harrumphed, “so I'm going too.”

  “I guess that means I'll have to go as well,” Horus sighed heavily.

  “Does no one want to see Nuada with us?” Odin laughed.

  “Frankly, I want to go home and have sex with my wife,” Hades said blandly.

  “Hades,” Persephone slapped his chest, but she was giggling as she did it.

  “We got that new swing to break in, remember?” He waggled his brows at her over his dark sunglasses. “The one with the stirrups.”

  Hades had irises like amber windows and behind them, the fires of the Underworld glowed through. No one wanted to see them, and he was courteous enough to respect our comfort by hiding his wicked eyes behind a pair of aviators. With his penchant for dressing like a GQ model, the Lord of the Underworld looked more like the Lord of the Runway.

  “Oh, is it the leather one with the adjustable straps?” Re asked with avid interest.

  “Oh sweet rays of Re,” Horus rolled his eyes. “May we leave now?”

  “Sure,” I took Kirill's hand, and we headed to the tracing chamber as Hades and Re continued to discuss the features of sex swings.

  The rest of the gods went home for some R&R, just like Hades and Persephone. Well not just like them but you get the idea. The Formorians breaking free of their imprisonment didn't seem like such a big deal to us. We were all much more concerned about Kirill, but it wouldn't have been a good idea for the entire Squad to go traipsing into Moirai territory uninvited. So no, they didn't want to see Nuada, and they couldn't all go with me. Instead, they happily went home. Odin and Thor were welcome to shoulder the worry for the Formorian situation, if that's what they wanted to do.

  I however, was off to save my husband.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Moirai had redecorated.

  “Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness!” I shouted as I burst through the whimsical, violet door. “It is, oh it is!”

  I spun around in a happy circle, staring up at the towering flowers in pure bliss. One of them angled its head down to peer at me quizzically. Canary yellow petals flopped around its orange eyes as it huffed daffodil scented air over my face. Behind the daffodil, a dandelion roared at a fire-breathing snapdragon. The daffodil lost interest in me, and looked over her sword-shaped leaves to glare at the rabble-rousers behind her.

  “Do you mind?” she sniffed primly at them, snorting her little fluted tube of a mouth. “I'm attempting an investigation into a possible weed infestation.”

  I squealed in delight, not at minding the weed thing.

  “Look, look, look,” I pointed at what appeared to be buttered toast flying by, flapping its starchy wings, and leaving a trail of breadcrumbs in its wake. “A bread and butterfly! And there,” I pointed to another winged bug, “a dragonfly.”

  The little dragonfly roared and breathed fire at me before undulating past.

  “And a horsefly,” Kirill grinned broadly as a tiny horse with wings fluttered past, rocking on its rounded base as it went.

  “A rocking horsefly,” I corrected him gleefully.

  A meadow stretched before us. In addition to the talking flowers, there were massive mushrooms in garish colors (some with bright polka dots), strangely shaped topiary (as animated as the flowers), and one bristly, blue caterpillar smoking a hookah contentedly. Smoke rings in odd shapes hovered over his fez-topped head. The heady scent of wildflowers and cannabis smoke was enough to make any hippie lovechild want to do a happy dance.

  Beyond this literally over grown garden, was a maze of white rose bushes. Half of the roses were painted red, some still dripping with wet paint. Past the meandering maze was a village constructed of ridiculously colossal playing cards. It was detailed too, with spade-topped lampposts and diamond shaped cobbles in the streets. There was even a bridge with clubs on top of its columns. And just past the playing card village, a giant castle rose up, crowned by a puffy red heart.

  “Wonderland,” I whispered and sighed.

  “Vervain!” A white rabbit in a waistcoat came hopping up to me, through blades of grass nearly twenty feet tall. He pulled out a gold pocket watch and peered at it, his whiskers twitching nervously. “You're late, you know. Follow me.”

  I swooned with happiness.

  “This is how Pride Palace could look,” I waved a hand towards the amazing castle of crimson, white, and black, and gilded with gold, “if you all would just let me do an Alice in Wonderland theme.”

  “Wonderland is better to visit than live in, Minn Elska,
” Trevor chuckled. “Just enjoy our little trip.”

  “Did you not hear me?” the rabbit was getting jumpy. Literally, he was jumping up and down anxiously. “You're late. We must be off!”

  “Lead on, Mr. Rabbit!” I declared.

  The Moirai took turns decorating their territory. There were three of them, and they each had distinctly different tastes. Though so far, it appeared that they were influenced by human stories. I suppose every god was though, that's how they became gods in the first place; by allowing human myth to change them.

  Anyway, the last time I'd visited, the ladies had a Tron theme going on. It was a little dismal for my tastes. Wonderland suited me so much better. I smiled in delight as the rabbit hopped through the garden, waving aside persistent pests and snapping at the flowers to, “Make way, make way. We're late for a very important date!” The caterpillar tried to ask who we were, but the White Rabbit merely glared at him, and batted away smoke with angry, little paws. He led us past the caterpillar's giant mushroom, and down a hill to a gigantic hat, previously hidden by the slope.

  It was a tall, forest green affair, with a swath of garish, pink and lime material tied around it. Feathers were tucked into the fabric and drooped delicately over the brim. A card taller than me read, “In this style 10/6”. I jumped onto the hat brim, following the White Rabbit, and shrieked with glee as I ran my hands over the most famous hat of all time. It was silky by the way, and smelled faintly of Earl Grey. The rest of my company just stood to the side, and stared at the headgear dubiously.

  “Come along, come along!” the rabbit gestured angrily. “Hat is the best way to travel.”

  I giggled and clapped my hands like a little girl.

  “I don't even understand what this stupid writing means,” Horus waved a hand at the card as he huffed his way onto the hat.

  “It means that this style of hat costs 10 shillings and a sixpence,” I rolled my eyes. You'd think a god would know things.

  “Yes, very well said, Vervain,” the rabbit nodded in approval. “Now hold on tight everyone. I suggest weaving an arm through the band for safety's sake.”

  As soon as we were all settled, arms tightly around the silk material of the hat band, the hat lifted into the air as if it had been picked up by an invisible giant. It swung back a little, and then we were flying straight to the castle. I shouted with joy, holding one arm out like I was on a carnival ride. Below us, a chessboard came into view, its pieces alive and moving across the board all on their own. The White Queen waved gracefully at us and I waved back.

  “Are you Alice?” a purple and turquoise striped cat appeared mid-air before me, smiling like an idiot.

  “No, I'm sorry,” I grinned back just as wide. “I'm Vervain.”

  “Ah yes,” the cat did a somersault in the air, somehow keeping pace with our conveyance. “Well, you never know. I'm often one thing in the morning, and something entirely different by tea time.”

  I made a little merp of delight, and the cat cocked his head at me. He continued to roll his head until it was completely upside down, while his body remained upright.

  “You should try looking in a mirror,” Cheshire suggested smoothly, his voice close to a purr. “A reflection sometimes exposes more reality than the object it echoes.”

  I went still, shivers coasting across my arms as the cat faded away. His smiled remained a little longer than the rest of him. It seemed a little taunting now. I was about to say something to Kirill, when we came to a bone-jarring landing, skidding across slick marble as the hat shrunk... or maybe we grew larger. Whatever the case, we were flung off our transport, and found ourselves sitting around a normal sized hat, in front of a normal sized castle. A normal size for the God Realm anyway.

  We stood and got a good look around us. We were on a wide terrace a few feet above expansive rose gardens, full of only crimson roses. There were statues of fearsome beasts and beautiful people spread around the open terrace, and a shaggy canine creature asleep in one shady corner. It panted in its sleep, drooling on the ebony tile. The words let sleeping dogs lie had never seemed more important than in that moment.

  “Och, not you again,” a blonde man wearing jeans and a T-shirt which read: A Fate Worse Than Death, slumped over to us and grimaced. “Alright then, come on,” he waved us across the marble courtyard, mumbling something about not getting paid enough to be a tour guide.

  It was the same attendant from our last visit, and I hadn't thought to ask his name then. Very rude of me, but in my defense, he was acting about as abruptly then as he was now.

  “Hey, what's your name? I'm Vervain,” I said as I chased after him.

  He stopped, his whole body going rigid with shock, and slowly turned to me. I stopped short, just before I ran into him, and gave him a little smile as I held my hand out. His round eyes stared down at my hand like he wasn't sure what to do with it. Then his hand shot out, grabbed mine, and gave it a single, crisp shake.

  “Momus,” he muttered, “nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you too,” I gave him a brighter smile. “Thanks for showing us the way. Must get exasperating with them changing things all the time.”

  “You have no idea,” he sighed and gestured to the curlicues around the door frame. “Look at this nonsense. Everything is gilded. So much damn gold, I feel like I'm back in the 1800s. I mean, come on!” he waved up at the spires which narrowed into super thin points above us. “This is just dumb. What's the point of those stupid spikes? It's an aviary accident waiting to happen. And I'm telling you right now, I'm not climbing up there to pull bird carcasses of those things. They can rot up there and let that be a lesson to those wacko women. But you know what? It wouldn't even be so bad, if they'd just decide on one thing instead of changing it over and over, like some kind of insane gay decorator on one of those design shows.”

  “Christopher Lowell,” I nodded sagely.

  Momus gaped at me for a moment, his intense black eyes blinking. Then his face broke into a grin.

  “Yeah, that guy!” he pushed my shoulder with a fist. “You're not so bad, Godhunter.” Then his face fell, and he added more gruffly, “Uh, I mean, this way. Come on, stop straggling you all,” he snapped back at the others.

  “Yeah, stop straggling,” I mimicked him, and Momus shot me a secret smirk.

  He led us into a wide entryway with a jet black floor covered with an expansive scarlet rug. The rug led right up to the foot of a grand staircase. The staircase was shockingly white against the black floor and walls, making me blink a little. Columns at the base of the stairs were topped with puffy, enameled, red hearts like the ones on top of the castle. A runner of the same crimson carpet which covered the entryway, flowed up over the stairs. It was held in place by long lengths of gold strips.

  I angled my head up, and smiled at a dramatic chandelier of blood red, metal roses. Beyond it, the ceiling domed into panes of gold bordered glass, showing a clear, pale blue, sky full of fluffy clouds. Sunlight streamed through the glass panels, spotlighting paintings of the three Moirai, which hung on the wall above the first landing of the staircase. Directly in front of us. The canvases were twice my height and framed in gold. To either side of the paintings, more stairs led up to the second floor.

  “Take the set of stairs to the right. At the top, turn left, and they're all the way down the hall,” Momus scowled at us. “They're expecting you, of course,” he rolled his eyes, and slumped off through an oversized door whose handle was a bulbous nose on a golden face. The face complained to Momus about his savage grip, with a voice appropriate to someone whose nose was being squeezed.

  “Have a good day,” I called brightly after Momus, and he gave a grudging wave over his shoulder, not bothering to turn around.

  “Charming,” Azrael grimaced after the man.

  “For Momus, that was absolutely delightful,” Re shook his head, laughing. “You all know who that was, don't you?”

  We just stared at Re. He stared back, waiti
ng for an answer. Re could be aggravatingly patient.

  “Do you know how many Greek gods there are?” I finally gave in. “They don't just have a wind god, they have a god for every direction the wind can go; God of the North-East Wind, God of the South-West Wind, etcetera. There are gods for every aspect of sexuality, every step of romance, there's a god of flirting, Re. So no, we don't know who that was.”

  Re chuckled a little before answering, “He's technically not a god, he's a spirit.”

  “Oh don't even get me started on their spirits,” I huffed.

  “I happen to know exactly who that is,” Hekate smirked at Re, her dark eyes alight with mischief, “but it's so much fun watching you taunt them.”

  “You're a demon, woman,” Horus kissed Hekate fondly.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere,” Katie smirked.

  “Will someone just tell us who he was already?” Trevor huffed. “At this point I don't even care anymore.”

  “He's the Spirit of Mockery and Censure,” Re announced.

  “Well, that explains a lot,” I nodded as I made my way up the stairs.

  “That's it?” Re chased after me as everyone else fell into step behind us. “Don't you find it humorous?”

  “Nope,” I kept going. “Just reasonable.”

  “Reasonable,” Re huffed, blowing a hank of golden oak hair out of his eyes. “The last thing Momus is, is reasonable.”

  “Do you have a problem with Momus?” I glanced over at Re with a lifted brow.

  “No,” Re looked away.

  “What did he do?” Azrael asked shrewdly.

  “He interrupted an intimate moment,” Re squished up his face in irritation.

  “Intimate, eh?” I sniggered. “So, sex then.”

  “With whom?” Trevor asked the really important question.

  “Clotho,” Re cleared his throat.

  “And how did he interrupt?” Kirill gave me a wink as he came up beside me. We reached the top of the stairs, and turned down a shiny hallway adorned with fantastical suits of armor and swirling gold filigree.

  “He sprayed us with a water hose,” Re ground out. “We were in the gardens, and he said he didn't see us, was just watering the flowers.”