Then again, how often did they have to fight what was probably a sixty-foot dog? That was just one howl. If we didn’t stop the ceremony soon, Glasya-Labolas would finally pass through from his hell and tear himself free from the earth. And when that happened –
An answering howl came from across the clearing. I hadn’t noticed but Gil had forced the transformation to take him once more. He streaked towards the sinkhole, a blur of midnight.
Wolf-Gil snarled as he struck, raking his talons in a flashing crescent. But the blades never met home, only making a sound like claws scrabbling uselessly along metal. He landed on the opposite side of the pit, baring his teeth and growling at Uriah Everett, who was suddenly no longer quite so naked.
His entire body was covered in fine threads of silver, made out of the same delicate wiry material that formed the enchanted Filigreed Masque. It was beautiful, his strange armor of pure filigree, the curls and tendrils like vines, or the roots of some alien tree. Every filament radiated from the Masque itself, now worn on Uriah’s face, completely concealing his features.
But in my heart I knew he was grinning at us, leering triumphantly.
How I wanted to pry the Masque from his face, to punch that evil, stupid grin off his swollen lips. And now that I knew it was magical, I wanted the Filigreed Masque more than ever. Never mind that it wasn’t at all what the Scepter of California expected. I could keep it for myself, pretend to Vilmas that we never saw it. An artifact that functioned as armor, and was stylish to boot? Hell yeah. Gimme.
I raced for the sinkhole. Glasya-Labolas could kiss my ass. If we ended Uriah and Olivia, then there’d be no chance for him to step into our world. I leapt across the chasm, slashing across Uriah’s torso with my blade. Sparks flew as my sword met his silver armor. He cried out, lashing out with his arm, backhanding me in the face. I went flying across the clearing.
“You will not lay your hands on me,” Uriah bellowed. “Tainted filth!”
I felt at my mouth, licked across my bottom lip. Wow. That fucker had drawn blood. Lucky shot. I didn’t think he’d be so strong, or maybe that was one of the benefits the Filigreed Masque imparted. But more importantly, Uriah had shouted in surprise when I struck him with my sword. I knew that the katana wouldn’t penetrate his armor. The electrified enchantment, though? The mere contact had been painful for him.
Which meant good things.
Thor ran up to me, standing over me and staring like he hadn’t expected me to be so stupid. “I’m not sure what you were hoping to accomplish back there.”
“Shut the fuck up and help me up. Riddle me this. Does silver conduct electricity?”
He pulled me to my feet, his brow furrowing. “Well, yeah, sure it does. Really well, actually.”
I tilted my head over to Uriah Everett. He was sending sweeping tendrils out across the sinkhole, extending them into a single braided mass like a wicked tentacle, cracking it like a whip. Holy shit, like I needed more reasons to want the Masque.
“What do you say we fry him up?”
Thor looked down at Mjollnir, then back up at me, his eyes wide. “Oh. Okay. Now I get it.”
I rolled my eyes.
33
Uriah swept his arm again. This time the bunched tip of the silver wires formed into a crude ball, like a fist, or the heavy weight at the end of a flail. It caught Gil at the ankles, sending him stumbling into the grass. He sprang up immediately, but instead of directing his rage at Uriah, he snarled at me.
Translation: “Fucking do something already.”
“We should – we should probably hurry. So how do we do this? Hit him at the same time? Electrify him into the next century?”
Thor nodded. “Same way we took down the girl’s barrier. Same time, as hard as you can. And that sword, it’s from Susanoo, isn’t it?”
I spun my hand at the wrist, twirling my sword in a blurred circle. “A gift, won in a duel.”
“It might help if you think of him – long and hard – while we do this.” Thor winked. “Just trust me.”
“So like a prayer? Haven’t done that in forever, but why not? I’ll try anything once.”
It’s true.
I zigged, and Thor zagged. Uriah was too preoccupied with the thrill of living in a new body and using it to hurt others to marshal his defenses. Thor was tall and muscled, but he moved at a speed that rivaled my own. He was a god of storm and thunder, after all. Maybe that was part of the package – quick as lightning, silent as the wind.
My hand was tucked close to my torso, prepared to deliver a final slash. My mind, though, called out to the Japanese god of storms in a steady rhythm. But what was I supposed to say? I wasn’t lying when I said I hadn’t prayed in a while. Decades, to be more specific. Susanoo did like leather, though, just like me. He manifested as a young man who fancied leather vests, leather pants, and combat boots. Really wasn’t a surprise that we got along, despite the duel.
“You wea
r it well,” I muttered under my breath. “Who’s a stylish immortal deity? You are.”