Last Rites (Darkling Mage 6)

“Quite,” she said. “We decided it would be better to meet in a more – scenic location.”

Outer space, I thought, or a domicile that looked very much like it, what the entities of night and shadow considered a relaxing, intimate location. Don’t look down, I told myself. Don’t look down. Yet I did, and my stomach did a horrible swoop as I gazed upon the emptiness of the abyss.

“So,” I said, stilling the tremble in my voice as I addressed Nyx. “It’s been a while. I didn’t think I’d hear from you again.”

She gave me a sincere, sympathetic smile, the light from her mouth fading as her lips pressed together. “Yes. There was that mixup with your simulacrum. The homunculus.”

“The Crown of Stars recognized the echo of your soul.” Chernobog, god of darkness, was as aloof and arrogant as ever, wisps of black smoke curling from his hooded body. “We cannot be held responsible for its whims.”

“But it’s your relic,” I snapped. “It’s your tool, your instrument of power. And you couldn’t control it?”

“Unprecedented,” Artemis said, toying with a single arrow, one hand balancing it by its pointed tip, the other playing with its feathers. “Your former mentor, the mad sorceress. Thea Morgana, was it? She did an exceptional job crafting your clone.”

I noted that, Nyx aside, there was no hint of an apology in any of the entities’ faces. I swallowed my anger, keeping my pride to myself. We were at the Convocation’s mercy, after all, and we still didn’t know what they wanted.

Artemis leaned forward, setting her arrow back in its quiver, then regarded each one of us thoughtfully. She held up a finger, counting us off. “The shadow boy, the vampire, and the moon-cursed wolf.” She rubbed her chin. “Wasn’t there a fourth one at your trial? The one with the glasses. Plays with ice, always looks angry.”

“Oh, that would be Herald,” Sterling said, nodding. “Dust’s boyfriend. Yeah, he couldn’t show up, I think they’re having a spat or something.”

“Dude,” I grunted, elbowing him in the stomach. “Shut up.”

Sterling shrugged and held up his hands. “The boy’s in denial. What are you gonna do?”

Artemis mirrored his pose, shaking her head. “I hear that.”

“Listen,” I snarled, my ears burning. “We aren’t here to talk about – well, not that, at least. Why did you want to see us?”

Nyx ran her fingers through the luxurious tumble of stars and night sky that made up her hair. “You touched the lock of hair I gave you. I recognized your emanations. You were my champion once, after all, Dustin Graves.”

“Yeah,” I said, still fighting my anger. “And what came of that? Nothing. Once again we humans had to deal with the Eldest ourselves. I bled too much that night.” I turned in place as I spat my words out, making sure the entities could hear my anger, see it etched on my face. “I killed one of the Eldest, and none of you helped.”

The entities murmured among themselves, some nodding, others shaking their heads. I scoffed. They could believe what they wanted. Only one thing could have been truer: we didn’t get any help from the entities, and neither was I going to expect any going forward. Arachne, Hecate, and some of those I could almost call my friends and allies had helped before, but Odin, and these fickle members of the Midnight Convocation? I clenched my fists, squeezed them harder.

“Settle your emotions, mortal,” Chernobog boomed. “You speak to the gods themselves.”

“And when will the gods listen?” I shouted, frustration choking my throat. The entities went silent.

Gil pulled on the back of my jacket, rubbing my shoulder with one huge hand. “Dude,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah man,” Sterling mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t get us killed.”

One voice spoke, strong and steely. It was the diminutive, dainty goddess I recognized as Metzli, the Aztec goddess of the night. “This is why we have collected you from your reality, Dustin Graves. We have an offer.”

“If it’s my soul you want, then you can just – ”

“That’s not it, Graves,” Artemis said, frowning. “If you could just listen for, like, one minute.”

I bit my lip.

“Very well,” Nyx said. She looked around at all of the entities, then nodded. “The Midnight Convocation has pledged to offer you its help. You may call on us, but once, and once only, and the entities of our clan will appear as it suits them. Be it to save you, or aid you in battle, it matters not.” She spread her hands, points and streaks of light forming between her fingers, tracing out the pattern of the Crown of Stars.

“Perhaps destiny did not see fit to give you the right to wear this mantle. Perhaps your fate was to keep your soul after all.” Nyx clapped her hands, and the Crown disappeared in a puff of stardust. “Then allow us to lend you this one opportunity. You say that the entities do not care for this earth, that only humans have shown any spine in battling the Old Ones.” She raised her chin. “Then allow us to prove you wrong.”

I couldn’t speak. My voice had caught in my chest in my utter shock.

“That would be extremely helpful, Dust,” Gil said slowly, nudging me.

“Extremely helpful,” Sterling echoed through gritted teeth. Take the deal, I could hear him thinking. Do it.