Brandywine Investigations Read online

  "Which she? Someone want to start from the start here?" Laverna drummed her fingers on the table.

  "The pathways to human death are closed," Set began.

  Loki took the seat beside Laverna. "Interesting. Which ones?"

  "As far as I've been able to determine, all but one. We'll get to that." Charon took them through the previous days—how Lord Hades had been failing, his ultimate collapse, and the disturbing discovery that the Underworld was unreachable. He told them as well of his conversations with Jason the ghost and with the not-quite ghosts of several human faiths in the hospital.

  "Independent verification?" Anansi asked softly.

  "Yes. Mine," Set growled. "I can't reach Osiris. The doors to his palace are impassable."

  Coyote leaned forward, elbows on the table. "So the humans can't die? What about the animals?"

  "I've been to the Rainbow Bridge. The animals are crossing as they should." Charon shook his head. "It seems to have taken even the death guides some time to realize. When I spoke to Uriel there, he wasn't aware of any problem. But then, he hadn't been home for a few days. He knows now, of course, but many of us were aware of the change in stages."

  "This is deliciously horrid. It means the way to Valhalla's closed too." Loki gazed around the table, eyes bright with excitement. "What havoc shall we cause, then?"

  "Normally, I'm more than pleased to participate in havoc." Set laced his fingers together atop the table. "But this goes too far. Every death lord is either trapped outside his or her realm right now—fading swiftly—or trapped inside with who knows what consequences."

  Loki shrugged. "Yes? What's it to us? Except Charon, of course. Sorry for your luck, Char."

  "You haven't been listening, fire god." Anansi tapped the table in front of Loki. "Every death lord. This means your daughter is trapped as well."

  "Hel never leaves her realm all that often," Loki countered, though he no longer sounded sure.

  Coyote squirmed in his seat. "Trapped isn't the same as choosing not to leave. If nothing's getting through, no souls, no human acknowledgment, no magic from the world, nothing? That could be a problem. Death realms aren't supposed to be closed systems."

  "Okay. So we agree that it's bad." Laverna patted Loki's arm. The fire god had paled considerably. "But what the fuck does Az have to do with all this? And why'd you send him out of the room?"

  A growl rumbled from Set. "Azeban did this."

  "What? Az? No. That can't be," Hermes protested.

  Anansi pointed a finger at Set. "And if he did, why is he still in one piece?"

  "Charon stopped me. With good reason."

  Charon stood to pace to distract anyone from coming to any wrongheaded conclusions and rushing out of the room to kill the raccoon. "I have every reason to believe he's been coerced. He came to me some time ago to return something of mine, and I know he was trying to tell me something then. He was frightened though, and didn't. The next I saw him, he was a bleeding mess, and someone had stabbed him in the back. Frightened doesn't begin to cover how he was after that. Cowed would be more accurate. And Kaukont was gone."

  Hermes gaped at him. "Char, are you saying someone's holding Kau hostage?"

  "I am. My lord agreed. I was doing my best to unravel things when everything went to pieces. I don't know enough yet, because Azeban won't talk about any of it. He won't speak because he's certain the person holding Kau can overhear him. But today, he began spouting W. H. Auden."

  Coyote snorted. "That's not like him."

  "I thought the same." Charon nodded. "It had to be some sort of code. He kept repeating pack up the moon and dismantle the sun as he led Lord Set and me to where he seems to have overheard a conversation with interesting participants."

  "I'm guessing you don't mean people who are interesting conversationalists," Loki said as he chewed on a thumbnail.

  "No." Set's claws clicked a steady rhythm on the table. "He means disturbing. Eris was there. I know no one is shocked. But so were Unhcegila and Itzpapalotl."

  "Well, crap," Laverna whispered. "I mean, Itzi's hot and all, but she's freaking scary. And Unhcegila? No. Just no."

  "But Azeban was pointing right at Itzpapalotl,"—Hermes leaned back to see Charon better—"the goddess who eats souls during eclipses, and Az is spouting code about the moon and sun disguised as missing Kau. But you both figured that out already."

  "We have." One corner of Set's mouth twitched up. "You always were such a clever, pretty god. But there was one more damning piece of evidence that Charon pointed out. There are still humans dying, but they are all newborns. And which human souls go to Itzpapalotl's realm?"

  "She's not being subtle about this, despite the secrecy." Anansi appeared torn between admiration and being appalled. "So what's the plan?"

  "If I had a plan, why would I be standing here?" Charon barely managed sarcastic instead of snarly. "We need to rescue the crow. Then Az will be able to tell us everything he knows. From there? Who knows? There's not enough information yet."

  Coyote tipped his chair back, realized he was balanced on one wheel, and put it down again. "Okay… here's what I'm thinking, and you can tell me if I'm crazy."

  "You are crazy, but we don't hold that against you," Loki murmured.

  Laverna nudged him. "Shh. Let the doggo talk."

  "Did you get to meet the mushroom dudes?"

  Dionysus was doing his best to be a distraction. Normally, he'd be the perfect person—never stayed on one subject too long, good kisser. Azeban did his best to be polite, but the jumbled conversation was giving him a headache.

  "The what? Oh. The gardeners." Azeban nodded. "I did. They were cool. I think the cousins were afraid I'd try to eat them."

  Dio's eyes widened in horror. "You didn't. Did you?"

  "Of course not. They're little people." Azeban curled up into a smaller ball in his chair. They'd found an alcove between conference rooms with soft armchairs. "And they brought me grapes."

  "They're really proud of the grapes this month." Dio dug in his pockets, pulled out a slightly bent chocolate bar, and held it out to Azeban. "Hungry? And I'm glad we can still be friends."

  "Dio…"

  "'Cause if you ate the mushroom dudes, I don't think we could. I mean, the librarian's my boyfriend, so that makes everything in there under my protection, right? Does it work that way? Am I a god of libraries now?"

  "You're the god of loonies." Azeban waved away the chocolate. "Dio? Could you maybe not talk for a while? I just… I don't feel so great."

  "Oh. Sure." Dio managed a full thirty seconds of silence. "Guess I'm kinda nervous. All this hush-hush stuff, and Uncle Hades and Cerberus being stuck outside the Underworld. Did you know about that? I mean, poor Cerbies. He's still freaked out. But I guess if a live human had seen him, they'd be even more freaked out. Or maybe eaten. Not sure about that.…"

  Azeban took the cushion from the back of the chair and stuffed his head under it. Not that it helped much. When Dio suddenly went quiet, Azeban hazarded a peek out of his cushion cave just as Charon touched his shoulder.

  "Az, it's time."

  "Is it?" Azeban had no idea what it might be time for. He had terrible suspicions that it might be for his execution. He pulled his coat close, trying to contain the shivers wracking his body. Charon's arm was right there when he wobbled, and he couldn't help leaning into that long, ultra-lean body. "Char? Could I ask you something?"

  "Yes, I'm still angry with you." Charon took him by the shoulders. "Furious. But you need to hold together a little longer here."

  "We're going back in there, and now they're all pissed at me." Azeban swallowed hard, then blurted out, "Would you kiss me before they tear me to pieces?"

  Charon's white eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. "No one's tearing you apart. Not just yet. We have other things to do. My young lord, come along too. But settle, please."

  Not at all reassured, Azeban dug his heels in. "But what are—?"

  "Hush. Both of you
." Charon pulled his phone out and typed on the messaging screen so Azeban could see it. Kaukont. Bait. You.

  The urge to blurt out We're going to get Kau? was so strong Azeban had to clap both hands over his mouth. He nodded, the backs of his eyes stinging, and hurried after Charon. Dio had caught on too and was singing to himself, probably to prevent asking anything. By the time they reached the conference room, Dio was dancing in circles, singing, I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain…

  Hermes corralled him and got him in a chair, where they bent their heads together while Hermes typed on his phone. The other trickster gods were all on their phones, and for the first time, Azeban wished he had one. Charon pulled him back by the collar and put his long arms on either side so he could type and show Azeban the screen at the same time. Message bubbles popped onto the screen almost faster than he could read them.

  Deserthowl: Ask him if she has Kau in her amate grove

  Hothands: And how he's being held

  Webslinger: Also, how long do we have?

  Ferryman: Stop. Everyone stop. Let Az catch up.

  Azeban twisted his head to look at Charon and pointed at his phone. Charon nodded and turned it so the keyboard on the screen would be bigger. Painstakingly, Azeban typed: Yes. Grove. Bone cage. It shrinks. When she tells it to. Day and a half. Maybe? Next eclipse somewhere.

  Sandstorm: We shouldn't delay. Hermes, a door?

  Featherfoot: Pretty conspicuous. Char could usually take you, but someone else's death realm? Don't think he can?

  Charon reached in to type: Correct. I could get you to the entrance, no farther.

  Azeban held up a hand and waited until he had everyone's attention before he typed, I can. Paths.

  With narrowed eyes, Laverna typed. The message popped up on Charon's screen with a frowny face.

  Hothands: Risky, with all of us. We have to get *out* again.

  Viking God: Risky, but not impossible. Who can do a crow?

  Loki raised a hand and glanced around the room. Hermes and Set both raised their hands.

  Viking God: Perfect. Laverna? Very localized shadows?

  Hothands: My specialty.

  The texts went on and on, trickster fingers flying, most of them typing and grinning by now, because this was what they all did. Any other day, Azeban would've been right there with them. If he hadn't been nauseous with dread. If it didn't feel like the pounding in his head was going to smash a hole in his skull any moment. Charon's arms around him were his only comfort, and not one he could rightfully claim. Not only that, he'd be losing even that any moment now.

  They were going to Tamoanchan, sweet waters help him, to cheat an angry goddess of death.

  Into Tamoanchan

  Chapter Ten

  The footbridge across the river from Lord Hades' condo acted as the staging area. Charon had retrieved his lordship's son Zagreus and his niece Artemis along with a human woman of impressive size who Char introduced as Artemis' lover, Ingeborg. Both hunting gods bristled with weapons. Ingeborg carried a baseball bat.

  Charon picked up a stack of poster board, turned the writing to face Azeban, and pointed to the near end of the bridge. The first read: If necessary, this is our defensive point.

  Charon moved that one to the back to reveal the second poster board on which letters had been drawn in bright red marker. You are brave. Then the next: You are clever. Azeban had to blink back tears and pull in some quick deep breaths to read the one after that. I believe in you.

  Finally, Charon put a hand on Azeban's shoulder and mouthed, Bring them back.

  Azeban nodded, still fighting to get hold of himself. He was going to die. The rest of them would most likely make it out, one way or another. The Obsidian Butterfly would blame him and him alone. All her rage would be concentrated on him.

  The worst part about all of this? He still had no idea if Charon had been seriously interested in him or had just pitied him. He settled his knives more comfortably in his inside coat pockets and pulled in one more slow breath. I believe in you.

  He took one of Charon's hands, tracing his thumb claw as he pulled him aside from the others. "Thank you. For all the things. I mean all the things. The care and feeding. The reading. The not killing me. The… snuggling. Look, I'm not usually shy about this stuff. With you, well, the situation's been kinda complicated. But I think you're sexy as fuck, and I've been wanting more than just a kiss for a while."

  "Have you?" Charon's voice held just a hint of a break, though his expression stayed completely blank. "What a strange thing to say."

  "Why?"

  "No one uses the word sexy to describe me."

  Azeban's next breath came out in a whoosh, since his throat was closing up. "I'm not saying there aren't other words. Fierce. Smart. Funny when you want to be. Scary when you want to be. But yeah, sexy. All long and lean and deadly."

  "You're such an odd little god." Consciously or not, Charon had closed the distance between them. He tucked a stray bit of hair behind Azeban's ear.

  Not bad, as invitations went. Azeban took him by the coat lapels and stood on tiptoe. This might be the stupidest thing I've ever done. Kissing the very-private-about-his-life ferryman in front of a bunch of trickster gods who'll be thinking how to use it later. But I'm probably dying soon. Seize those carps.

  Charon took him under the elbows to steady him, something lurking in those dark eyes that Azeban couldn't quite read. Azeban lifted a hand to the side of his face, a grazing touch, and pressed his lips to Charon's—cool in the autumn air, stiff and trembling.

  It was an achingly tender kiss. Even though Charon's touch was gentle, his lips searching instead of plundering, to Azeban, the kiss was the center of a cyclone. He felt as if he were falling, spinning. He opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed to find Charon staring at him, eyebrows drawn together in—was that worry? For him?

  Getting turned on was easy. This was something else, something warmer, more enveloping, and far more disorienting. He clung to Charon's lapels a moment longer before he whispered, "Thanks."

  "Hmm. We'll have to talk when you return, I think." Charon set him back and patted his shoulder. "Time to go."

  "Right. Yeah." Azeban backed up three steps, forced himself to tear his gaze away, and went to join the trickster cabal waiting for him. No more words. She might hear. They all knew what to do.

  I'm going off to die. I think I'm in love, and I'm going off to die. My life is so fucked up.

  Azeban began to walk up the path toward the trees. Laverna fell in behind him to grip his right shoulder, while Anansi clamped onto his left. He had to presume that the rest of them had taken hold of someone. Not that he could ask. He cracked his neck and took the side step out of human reality that took him into the Ways.

  The bright autumn day vanished, replaced by a strange jumble of gray shapes. Physical sight was both misleading and dangerous here. One had to know, to feel the paths, to understand on a bone-deep level where it was safe to step. Trying to see a way through led to stepping off the path, lost forever. What actually happened to beings who did, no one knew. That's why so few immortals used the Ways.

  For Azeban, they were a second home: a place to hide, to escape, to drop out of sight for as long as he needed. Until Itzpapalotl had made it clear she could find him there, of course. Nothing had been quite the same since.

  By the time they reached the shining basalt throne in Tamoanchan, Laverna had wrapped shadow around them. Good idea, of course, to come in silent and unseen, but a waste. Itzpapalotl wasn't there.

  Pointing to the archway that led out to the amate's grove, Azeban separated from the group. He was supposed to be here, come to grovel. Charon had called him bait. In a way, he was, but only bait for her attention. He stowed his sunglasses and pulled off his hat. Shoulders slumped, hat clutched in his hands, he wandered out to the grove to play the abject minion.

  For a moment, his heart soared with hope when he didn't spot her, but no. A curve of the amate had hidden h
er. Of course she was here.

  "I thought you might be coming." Itzpapalotl stepped over some of the twisted roots of the tree to stalk toward him, wearing her beautiful face and her obsidian-knife wings. "What do you want here?"

  The tears were easy. The tight hitching of his voice not an act at all. "I did all you asked. And now they blame me." He sniffled, twisting his hat in his hands. "I just want Kau. Please? If… if I could just have him back. Then we could go hide somewhere until everyone's not trying to beat answers out of me."

  "Not yet, my raccoon," she murmured, all gentleness as she stroked his hair. But unlike Char's touch, her tender caress made him shiver with dread. "Kaukont needs to stay here with me. A little longer. It won't be forever. You should hide. It would be safer for you instead of playing at seducing a son of night. Your crow friend is comfortable enough. He's safe here and has plenty to eat."

  From his cage of bone, Kaukont rattled his beak against the bars and muttered, Rrrrrrrrek.

  He hadn't planned it, but hearing Kau's discontent and knowing he was the cause sent spider-web cracks through Azeban's heart. He burst into tears.

  "This has been hard for you." He flinched when she wrapped her arms around him. No need to hide the reaction. "I was angry. So angry that you wouldn't help. I had thought you understood, but you are male. I suppose you can't help that."

  "You never told me why you were doing it." He sniffled and tried to relax one muscle at a time, despite all his instincts shrieking, Run! His cohorts needed him to buy time. "How could I agree without knowing?"

  Out of the corner of his eye, he picked up the shadows gathering inside Kau's cage. Good. They're getting in place.

  "Better for you not to know, little one. Still better that you don't." Itzpapalotl leaned back to wipe at his tears with her thumbs. "They will forgive you, the other gods, once they know the truth. And they aren't brave enough to stand against me. Have patience. All will be well. You could—"

  A caw interrupted her. She turned with a frown, since the call came from behind her instead of to her right. A handsome crow hopped along the amate roots, cocking his head to examine nooks and crevices.