Relief that I had a moment to think without jeopardizing our safety left me sagging against the railing.
“Monitor the situation,” I told the Marys and marched back in the house. “I have to talk to Anunit.”
Certain I would find her in my room, I headed that way, nodding to Rollo in passing. He ignored me. So, I guess as much as things change, some stay the same.
I discovered Anunit curled around Dinorah in the center of the mattress and sat beside her. I would have pet her, butwith Dinorah—literally—between us, I wasn’t sure she would welcome my touch.
“I would understand if you chose another guardian,” I ventured when she didn’t even lift her head. “I don’t want you to regret your decision now that you understand it more fully.”
“I know your heart, Frankie Talbot, and I do not regret selecting you. Dinorah would enjoy knowing part of her lives on in the one chosen to protect what remains of us.”She rested her chin on my thigh.“I will grieve for some time, even though I thought my tears all spent, but I do not resent you or blame you for her end.”She chuffed warm air across my leg.“Truth be told, she and I fought bitterly over Berchem. He loved her, so much, and his ideals were my ideals. I wanted to exist in peace alongside the new gods, but their greed proved too great.”Her eyes closed for a breath.“I would have sacrificed Dinorah’s great love to save our people, and it shames me that I placed so little value on her happiness.”
“Even if you had championed her choice of mate, you wouldn’t have stood a chance against a pantheon of gods. The argument could be made that she could have chosen the good of the people over her heart, but it would be pointless. For the gods to wipe out the Alcheyvaha entirely rather than only punish Dinorah and Berchem speaks to an agenda. They were searching for an excuse, a way to push their gleaming pantheon straight to the top, and they found one in Dinorah and Berchem’s relationship.”
“I want to believe that is true.”She flicked her ears.“Perhaps I will believe it is so, in time.”
Aware the clock was ticking and Ankou waited outside, I got serious. “Can I ask an indelicate question?”
“You want to know why her bone kills gods and if other Alcheyvaha bones would do the same.”
“Not that I would ever weaponize them.” I lifted my hands, palms out. “But I did wonder.”
“Dinorah was a goddess, and those are not easily slayed even by other gods.”
“I always assumed one of the new death gods used their magic on her.”
Even then, god-on-god violence rarely ended with a god ceasing to exist.
“The goddess Taura could kill with a touch, and she owed a great debt to Berchem’s family. They named their price as Dinorah. My daughter…”Anunit drew in a shaking breath,“…decayed within seconds, her flesh sliding off her bones. The magic kept going, poisoning her, rotting her insides, sinking into her very marrow. That is why Dinorah, the sword, can kill. Her bones are saturated in a newborn goddess’s death magic.”Her gaze strayed to the blade.“That is why they cremated the rest of her once they discovered what they had created. To prevent anyone else from possessing such power.”Her eyes locked with mine.“I killed Taura, with help from what few of us remained, though it cost them their lives.”
“She deserved what she got,” I said, and I meant it. “Now Dis Pater and Ithas will get theirs too.”
A rumble of agreement moved through her.“How fares your consort?”
“He’s not in great shape, but he appears to be stable. He can’t help us take out the gods in his condition, so whatever god-killing powers Ankou believes he possesses are off the table.”
“Berchem never possessed that power, but being in service to Dis Pater…”
“…he could have been wielding Dinorah.”
Bile rose up the back of my throat as I imagined him joining in killing the Alcheyvaha he had so admired, using a weapon forged from the woman he loved. I could picture Dis Patergiving that order clearly. The cruelty of it would appeal to him. I wasn’t sure at what point he decided to team up with Ithas. Likely he spent centuries fuming over his waning power before he—or another of the impotent death gods eager for any hope of tasting the strength from their glory days again—learned of the restorative magic of the burial grounds.
That discovery, more likely than not, belonged to another. Had Dis Pater been the first, he would have hoarded it all for himself back then like he planned to now. The best he had been able to wrangle was his guardianship that Kierce enforced by murdering anyone who stumbled across the burial grounds.
However you sliced it, Dis Pater deserved what was coming to him, and I was ready to deliver.
The townhouse was oddly quiet as I crept down the hall toward the elevator with Anunit on my heels. As far as I could tell, everyone had retreated to their rooms. Probably waiting on me to come up with a plan that refused to solidify in my mind. I had an idea, a risky one. The other Marys would end me if they so much as caught a whiff of what I was about to do, but I had to act before Ankou slithered through a gap in our defenses like the snake he was and struck where we were most vulnerable.
Tempted as I had been to bring Dinorah with us as protection, I hated the idea of sullying her again. But I had replenished my kit with herbs, chalk, salt, and anything else I might need in a pinch.
We made it to the elevator without any doors swinging open or voices calling out to us.
Which made it all the more startling when the doors rolled open on a garage filled with people.
“Um.”
“Um?” Josie pursed her lips. “How stupid do you think we are?”
“Don’t answer that.” Matty tucked his hands under his arms. “But do answer this.” His mouth tightened. “Did you really think you could slip out to face Ankou, and we wouldn’t notice?”
