“Holy shit,” Bastion muttered.
“Indeed. A goddess can still stand on her own, but being part of an alliance – a divine coalition, if you will, gives you power that you can’t quite get anywhere else in this time of nonbelievers. That means that my sister has lost a fair portion of her power.”
“Oh my God,” I said, looking around at the others, who were just as aghast as me. “All this because she helped me?”
Apollo nodded grimly. “The gods take their allegiances very seriously. The Midnight Convocation specifically has not forgotten about Metzli’s death. I don’t think they ever will.”
Poor Metzli, Aztec goddess of the night, slain in battle by the Overthroat. Then Chernobog – hell, any of the other entities of night and moon could still be after me. “But you’re saying that there’s something in it for me, as well.”
“Correct,” Apollo said, a dimple appearing in his cheek as the smile returned to his lips. “I may have heard that you and your adorable mortal friends are looking to forge new bonds with the cadre of mythical monsters and world-eaters known as the Great Beasts.”
Romira cocked her hip, pushing her hands into her waist. “And how do you know about this, exactly?”
Apollo pointed a finger-gun at her and winked. “I may have heard it through the grapevine.”
I shook my head. The gods of the old world were huge gossips, but the Greek pantheon really took the cake when it came to this stuff. And I wasn’t sure I liked the mention of grapevines, either. That suggested the involvement of yet another entity, one I thought I’d successfully avoided for so long.
“So that’s it?” I said. “I help Artemis – never mind that I don’t even know where to begin with restoring a goddess’s power – and I’ll somehow find a way to win over the Great Beasts?”
Apollo smiled in a transparently patronizing manner, the blond locks of his hair tumbling as he shook his head. “You’re still not getting it. I need you to talk to Artemis. She’ll tell you what she needs to get stronger again. And whatever that is, Dustin, well, you’re somewhat bound to helping her out. Unless, of course, you also want to make enemies with the Conclave of the Sun.”
Apollo’s smile was unwavering, still as warm and friendly as before, but behind the gleaming teeth and the twinkling eyes, I knew that his threat was very real. As a sun goddess, Amaterasu was part of the Conclave herself, just as her brother-husband Tsukuyomi was part of the Midnight Convocation. The last thing I needed just then was to have more angry gods – members of the Japanese pantheon, no less – breathing down my neck. I thought of the death goddess Izanami’s true face, and shuddered.
“Fine,” I said. “You twisted my arm. Don’t look at me like that, I’m kidding – I know I’m at least partly at fault. So, where do we find her?”
Apollo scratched his chin, looking up into the sky. “Well, let’s see. She’s probably pretty upset. Down in the dumps, even. And when Artemis gets in a bad mood, she does what the rest of us like to do: indulge.”
“That’s not exactly a lead, is it?” Romira said, frowning.
“Depends,” Apollo said with a smirk. “Where would you go in Valero, I wonder, to find a downtrodden Greek goddess who just wants to drink her own weight in wine?”
I sighed. “Great. The Amphora. Which I guess means we’re going to run into Dionysus as well.”
Apollo nodded. “Pretty much. Hey, that’s just how it is.” He puffed his chest out and grinned again. “And don’t let me catch you gallivanting off wherever, now. We had an agreement, you and I. This is the exact favor I need you to fulfill in exchange for what I offered. Help my twin sister.” His grin somehow grew even wider, brighter. “Or, you know. Or else.”
Prudence narrowed her eyes at the sun god. “Or else, what?”
Apollo chuckled. “Hey, that’s between me and the shadow mage here. I’m just saying, the right thing to do is to honor your end of the bargain.” He winked at me, and in that tiny, briefest instance I imagined all the power of the world’s sun gods and entities coming down on my head with the full fury of their fire. I just bit my tongue and nodded. “In the meantime,” Apollo continued, waving his hand at his ridiculous car. “Can I offer you a ride to the Amphora?”
Romira shrugged. “Sure, why not. Gotta admit, I’m curious about what it looks like on the inside.”
“Here,” Apollo said, smiling, opening the rear passenger door. “Let me help you in.” He placed his hand on the small of Romira’s back, guiding her in. She swatted it away, frowning.
“Hey, just because I’m being friendlier doesn’t mean you’re allowed to get handsy,” she grumbled.
“Apologies,” he said, raising his hands. “You’re that ?Cerberus woman, aren’t you? One of the mages he’s contracted.”
Romira’s eyes flitted to me, then back to Apollo. “Yeah,” she said warily. “One of.”
I could tell from Apollo’s grin that he was gloating. That was the thing with entities. Even the friendliest ones still had an air of the sinister about them. It should have been obvious to me – and to Romira, especially – that the entities could easily forge multiple contracts with as many mages and mortals as they cared to lend power to. But I could tell that it bothered her, being reminded that she wasn’t quite as special as we all thought.
We piled into the back of the car. Apollo clambered into the driver’s seat, Bastion taking up the passenger side. Apollo threw the car into gear and it lurched and trundled onward, with an engine powered by faith, perhaps, and a gas tank full of magic.
“Nice limo,” Bastion said.
“You mean four-wheel drive,” Prudence said.
“What are you guys talking about?” I looked around. “This is clearly a hatchback.”