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“So,” I said. “Off to the tether.”
“I’m on it.” Herald adjusted the map on his phone. “It’s near a bank in a slightly jankier part of the business district. So not all that far from the Lorica.”
“You navigate,” I said, “and I’ll get our shit ready.”
I reached into the backseat, gingerly lifting up the wooden chest filled with mismatched pieces of verdigris. I settled the chest into the bag’s pocket dimension. The back of my hand brushing against the cold, jagged edge of a broken garnet.
Soon, V, I thought, patting the jewels and twisted bronze the way I’d pat an old friend on the back. Very soon.
Chapter 20
The tether was a busted ATM stuck in the back of an old building, what a quick search on the internet told us used to be a bank. I watched the eerie blue glow of the machine’s grimy, disused screen, peering back at me like a sad, old face.
This was far too fishy, even for all the supernatural weirdness I’d already experienced in the arcane underground. The back alley that we were in was creepy enough without the added oddity of the near-total darkness shrouding the building.
Something about the quality of the shadows told me they were artificial, as if left there for the benefit of some entity that loved to hide in the darkest corners of the earth. And yes, you’re right, being surrounded by so much darkness should have been comforting to me, but it wasn’t. That wasn’t the right kind of dark. It wasn’t the kind of gloom that dwelled in the Dark Room, that lived in the world behind my scar.
“Remind me again why we can’t hit up one of the gods for this,” I muttered.
“Because they won’t work with the star-metal. You know that. Kagutsuchi of the Japanese pantheon, or Hadúr of the Hungarian gods, neither will be very pleased if you came to them with that request. Remember when you walked into Amaterasu’s realm with Vanitas in your backpack? She didn’t seem to like you much then, either. Imagine going up to someone like Hephaestus.”
“He singlehandedly forged the weapons of the entire Greek pantheon,” I said. “Dude knows his swords.”
“And he takes pride in the purity of his work. The very presence of star-metal in his domicile would be a grave offense. He’d smash your head open the moment you walked in.”
I glared at the ATM screen, which glared defiantly back, like a single, hazy blue eye. “Isn’t there like a fire spirit out there that might want to help?”
“Again. I can’t think of any non-god entities that are strong enough to do the job. And again: you’ve developed kind of a reputation for yourself, and not a great one. Probably best not to piss off more gods for a while. Lay low. They hate you.”
“Gee,” I said, ruffling my hair in frustration. “Thanks.”
Herald gave me a tight smile, then clapped me on the shoulder. “You keep me around because I’m brutally honest, little buddy.”
“I’m taller than you.”
“And in all honesty? This is probably going to be super dangerous. Come on.”
Herald walked up to the ATM, and the sense of foreboding building in my stomach surged even harder than before. He pressed his finger to the screen, which wavered before displaying a series of words.
“Please provide your PIN number,” I read out loud.
Herald pushed the number six on the keypad three times. Typical. The screen wavered again, flashing red for the briefest moment, before turning back to blue. New words.
“Please make your deposit.”
“The offering,” Herald said. “Gimme your wallet.”
“Wait, what?”
I cursed as he casually slipped his hand into my back pocket, retrieving my wallet with an enviable measure of grace and finesse. The fucker could probably make as good a thief as me. He was probably even a little faster. And surprisingly strong, I noted, as I tried to wrestle my wallet back.
“Relax,” he said, holding it out of reach. He retrieved the bills, then tossed the wallet back to me. “The machine doesn’t want the whole thing. Just your cash.”
I fumbled with my wallet, running my fingers mournfully over its worn, weathered creases as I stretched it to peek at its insides. “Really, dude? That’s all the cash I have. That’s like a good hundred. Come on.”
“That’s the least of your worries,” Herald said, holding the wad of bills up to the screen. They burst into flames. “The demon will probably want more. Much more.”
That could have bought me, like, so many cheeseburgers. “You mean the demon wants more money?”
