Jewels and Feathers (Race Games 3)

CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE

“Expecting a call?” Eirik asked.

Muni frowned. “No.”

She stared at the ringing panel for a few seconds.

“Are you going to answer it?” Brin asked when she didn’t. “What if it’s Theo?”

That was a good point, Muni thought. Reaching forward, she pressed the green phone symbol on the screen. At first, there was silence, and Muni thought she’d answered too late.

“Who’s this?” she asked, her eyes on the road ahead of her. They were going a modest fifty miles an hour, choosing to go slow and steady for now while they had the opportunity to. Outside the car, drones continued to fly around them, transmitting video for the world to see.

“Hello, Munin,” a familiar voice cooed from the speakers, and she tensed.

Brin, Eirik, and Vidar all froze at the voice, understanding just as her.

“Councilman Deadmont,” she said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I see Phillip opened his mouth before you killed him,” he growled. “Am I to expect an audience with you?”

“You should expect more than an audience,” she replied.

The speakers went silent for a moment. “That is,” he said, and Muni could hear the condescension in his voice. “If you even survive the games.”

“How many have you paid to finish the job you’re too much a coward to finish yourself?” Muni’s face was pinched as she drove despite the conversation. “How many lives have you taken for them getting too close?”

A deep amused chuckle. “Oh, Munin. You think you’re important in the grand scheme of things, don’t you?” More noises. “You’re not. It’s only business. And you’re a threat to my plans.”

“So if I’m going to die, you might as well tell me who pulls your strings.” Muni could hear the smugness in his voice, knew he thought they weren’t going to survive the race at all, but she knew they would. They were expecting an attack, knew what to look for, and their team was four strong. They were going to survive. Muni was determined.

More chuckling. Apparently, she’d tickled his funny bone. “Nice try, raven. You couldn’t possibly understand the sheer power of those above me. You’re weak, a useless tool that no one wants to use. You think you know monstrous gods. You don’t know anything.”

Muni blinked at his words, understanding exactly what he hadn’t said but his arrogance had left the words there between them. Muni had indeed met monstrous gods. She’d met powerful ones, lower ones, all kinds. But what the Councilman wasn’t saying outright was that those in charge of him were celestial in nature. She didn’t know for sure, but it was a clue, one she hadn’t even had to peel from his lips.

“You’re right,” Muni agreed with the Councilman.

“What?”

“You’re right. I don’t know everything, but thanks to you, I have a starting point. I know you were the one who told Phillip to plant the bomb, knew he was only following your orders. I know someone else ordered you to kill my brother in exchange for a seat on the council and money.” Muni paused to let that sink. “I know, without a doubt, that you’re afraid that I’ll survive this race, and you should be, Councilman Deadmont. You see, when I finish this race, you’re the first person I’m coming after.”

“You dare threaten me?” he guffawed, as if it hadn’t dawned on him that she was just as capable of threats as he was.

“It’s not a threat, Necro. It’s a promise. No matter where you hide, no matter where you go, I’ll find you. Blood for blood. That’s the rule of warriors. I know you don’t know much of what it is to be one, but you’ll know soon enough when I carve the still beating heart from your chest.”

More sputtering, as if he couldn’t figure out what to say. “Good-bye, Councilman. I’ll be seeing you.” And then Muni pressed the red phone, hanging up on the necromancer.

“He has to die,” Eirik said, his face twisted in a scowl.

“He does,” she agreed. “But we won’t have the opportunity until after the race. So we focus on surviving. Likely, he’ll throw everything at us possible, so be prepared. These last two sections are going to be a true fight.”

“So we survive the race,” Vidar growled. “And then I’ll hunt him down for you.”

Muni smiled and reached over to caress his jawline briefly. “We survive.”

Before them, the tall structure of the rig sat in the skyline. As Muni focused on the road again, on moving forward, the ground began to roll beneath them.

“What’s that?” Brin asked, his eyes wide. “What’s happening?”

The top of the oil rig shook, and then, without warning, the top shot off. Oil began shooting into the air like a fountain, the black slick spilling to the ground beneath it. They’d have to pass directly beneath the rig to continue the race.

“That can’t be good,” Muni blinked.