Mystic Ink (21 page)

“Wait. Wouldn’t the Mantle protect your clothes from dirt?” Cal asked.

Shit. She hadn’t thought of that. “Yeah. About that.” She hesitated, unsure of how to explain the Mantle’s true nature. She should ask him, her,
it
, first. “But let’s get everyone together.”

In short order, the beach house was crowded with the usual group: Jason, Devlin, Basil, and Zephyr, all assembled in the three-season room.

“I don’t recognize the sand. It certainly has an unusual blue tinge to it,” Zephyr said. He took a closer look at the stained shirt. “The blood belongs to someone old. But I can’t tell you who exactly.”

Devlin leaned forward and sniffed the sand, then the blood. He face reddened, as if caught with his pants down. “Sorry, Satyrs have a great sense of smell.”

Nix prompted, “And?”

“Nothing. I agree with Zephyr on the blood. We’re talking an ancient God or Goddess.”

“That narrows it down,” Jason said, fingering the hoop in his lip. “The silver means it’s one of our pantheon. And if the blood belongs to an ancient, then there’s a limited pool of candidates.”

Nix grinned. Jason wasn’t as dumb as he acted. “So let’s start a list.”

“And call each of them. Ask if they’ve been recently hurt.” Devlin spread his hands out when Nix stared at him. “Hey, why not?”

“I doubt they’ll just admit to involvement in whatever is going on,” Nix said.

“Probably not. But lies are just as effective as telling the truth sometimes. We should at least ask,” he responded.

“I agree with Devlin. I’ll work on the list with him and Cal.” Zephyr stood, then went over to the hall desk and searched for paper.

“I’ll start going through the tattoo books.” Jason lugged the books back into the sunroom and dropped the pile on the wood plank coffee table with a dull thud. He moved Basil’s travel cage to a side table by the back door.

“I’ll look with Jason. We need to get to the bottom of the sacred seal.” Nix took the top book on the stack. The leather cover was well worn with age, the pages hand sewn. The drawings and notations were all in Memphis’ handwriting.

After searching two more books, Nix looked up at Cal. He was seated across the room in an armchair speaking quietly to Zephyr. The two seemed to be getting along. The male territorial behavior, the posturing bullshit, had all but disappeared.

Nix suppressed a small smile, thinking about how she and Cal had spent the evening. Her memories of their past relationship may have been erased, but she didn’t care. They belonged together and she wanted him in her life. The Delian League be damned.

Before returning to the beach house, she had tried to speak with the Mantle again, but it had remained silent. It hadn’t spoken since Cal yanked it off her head. As a gesture of kindness, she left it spread on the chair by the window, so it could see the surf outside.

Green feathers flashed by the window. Basil wanted in. Nix opened the back door, and he flew over to Cal’s chair and began muttering to himself.

Nix stood at the door, watching the calm water of the surf. The small bumps of gentle waves rolled onto the shore, beckoning her to join them. The sand gleamed in the early afternoon light. It was amazing to think that the sand had once been mighty boulders that had been worn away into smooth grains by the hands of time.

“Chilly. Chilly.” More of Basil’s inane chatter. A bell of recognition rang in her mind.

“Basil. What did you say?”

“It’s a fine time to visit Chilly.” Basil groomed his feathers, his beak burrowing deep.

Chilly . . . Chile. “Jason!” Nix turned away quickly and banged into the table holding the antique birdcage. The table wobbled, and before she could catch it, the cage crashed to the floor.

“Shit.” When she picked it up, the cage’s bottom was misshapen, knocked loose from its rim. Nix tried to push the bottom back on, but the pieces didn’t fit together anymore, no matter which way she turned them. Frustrated, she placed the cage on the coffee table.

“I think I broke the cage. Look.”

Cal examined it, turning it over. “Nah, I think this piece just snaps on . . . Hold on. What’s this?” He separated the bottom from the cage and turned it sideways. “There’s a false bottom. It’s hollow. There’s something lodged in here.” He grabbed a pen and wedged the parts open. “I’ve got it.” He held up a thin sheet of golden paper, almost translucent. Fine markings were etched on the other side.

“Whoa!” Jason joined them, leaning in. “That looks like Memphis’ handiwork.”

“A tattoo?” Cal placed it on the table so they could all see.

Zephyr held his hand over it, eyes closed. They snapped open, his face pale. “That’s not paper.”

Nix touched it.
Oh Gods
. “It’s skin.”

“Ewww.” Devlin recoiled. “That’s just wrong on so many levels.”

“And the design?” Nix asked, an idea formulating in her mind.

“The ink is special. God’s blood?” Jason tapped it with the tip of his finger. “Man, the power coming off this thing is incredible. The fusion of the skin and ink makes it almost indestructible. It won’t age or wear out with time.”

Nix focused on the design, reaching out to the power of the ink and skin. So familiar. “Zeus. He did this.”

Zephyr spoke low and somber. “We are in deep shit. This is a key to a Titan’s cell. It keeps the one whose name is inscribed imprisoned.” He stood up and paced the length of the room, stopping to look out at the water. “Each key is different. This one just happens to be etched on Zeus’ skin.”

“Whose prison is it, Zeph?” Nix asked. Devlin’s and Cal’s deep frowns increased her anxiety.

“Typhon.”

Stunned silence. No one said a word for a full minute.

Zephyr broke the silence first. “If Typhon was set free, chaos would reign supreme on Earth. With Zeus and the other all-powerful deities gone, there is no one left strong enough to stop him, let alone recapture and inter him again. If he escapes, he could set the others free. Provided he found the keys to their prisons as well.”

“Who the fuck is crazy enough to let that monster out?” Cal swore again and tucked the skin back into the bottom of Basil’s cage. “No one speaks a word of this outside this room. Understand?”

Creepy crawlies raced across the back of Nix’s neck. The blue sand. “Devlin, hand me that bag of sand.”

She felt its weight in her palm. The blue grains glided from one end of the bag to the other as she flipped it back and forth. The answer, so close . . . “I’ve got it. I know where I’ve seen this sand before.”

The phone rang. Everyone checked their cell phones. Nix retrieved her phone, glancing at the call display. “Hello, Mother. I’m putting you on speaker.”

“Your father isn’t missing. He’s been kidnapped. I found a note today. His captors were thoughtful enough to leave a phone number to call.” Doris’ sarcasm didn’t escape Nix. Her mother’s voice shook with anger. Doris may have seemed self-absorbed at times, but anyone who messed with her family had better watch out.

Nix jotted down the number, her knuckles white against the pen. “Mom, we’ll take it from here. If they contact you again, call me or Cal.”

She hung up and dialed before anyone else could speak. The line picked up on the first ring. “Portia, what have you done?”

Chapter 18

“My own sister. I knew Portia was a slut and a lying bitch. I would have never imagined she was a traitor, too.”

Cal remained silent. Better to let Nix vent.

“How could I have been so blind? So stupid. She shows up with the Mantle and some fake story about a last mission for Nereus.”

Cal understood her feelings. Betrayal. He had been there, done that. Trusted a sibling, hoping the blood connection was stronger than ambition. Most of the times it was. But not always.

“She’s going to pay for tricking me into kidnapping Nereus. Whoever masterminded the plot is smarter than the average Nymph.”

“Yes. It’s highly unlikely Portia did this on her own,” Cal agreed.

“She wants to trade our father for Typhon’s seal. That bitch.”

“Nix. Stop. You’re wearing a hole in the floor.” Zephyr tried to intercept her. Big mistake. She rebuffed his attempts to calm her down. Cal could have told him there was no taming the wild sea when it wanted to rage.

“Wait. I don’t understand. How could they use a Mantle? I thought Nereus had sole control over them?” Jason’s question got Nix’s attention. She finally stopped pacing.

“He does,” Nix cocked her head to one side as if listening to someone else speak. “Of course, if he didn’t have a chance to reprogram my last cloak, it would have still been active. She must have stolen it. And . . .” She trailed off again, distracted.

“Is there someone else who could have reprogrammed it?” What had Nix been doing with the Mantle when he’d caught her beneath it? She hadn’t been in Destroyer mode. If she had been, the Mantle would have become body armor, covering her from head to toe in a platinum sheen. Her face and other features would have disappeared and become generic. Instead, she’d been under it, as though she had a blanket over her head.

“I don’t know.” Nix abruptly turned on her heel and ran upstairs.

Jason shrugged and looked over at Cal and Zephyr. “Is it me, or is she getting stranger?”

“Never mind that. We need to talk.” Zephyr joined them in a huddle. He kept his voice low. “I think we all know that they
will
kill Nereus. If Typhon is behind this, then Portia probably has a God Killer.” A cursed weapon, designed to administer final death to an immortal.

“We need to come up with a back-up plan,” Jason said. “Nix will go ballistic if they harm the old man. No matter how much she complains about him.”

Cal fixed his gaze on Jason. “I know exactly what we can do.”

By the time Nix returned, the men had agreed to Cal’s plan. Each of them had a part to play. And none of them would divulge it to Nix. Cal knew she wouldn’t appreciate the deception, but the stakes were too high to waste time arguing.

Jason intercepted her on his way to the front door as she came back down the stairs. “Nix, I’m heading back to the shop. Devlin and I have some supplies to gather. We’ll be back as fast as we can.” Jason and Devlin left before Nix could ask any questions.

Cal watched her closely as she walked toward the sunroom with a blanket in her hand. She didn’t seem concerned that Jason and Devlin had left. So far so good.

“Cal, there’s something I need to show you and Zeph.” Nix held up the blanket and spoke to it. “Go ahead, you can trust them both. I do. With my life.”

Zephyr exchanged a worried glance with Cal.

Cal had no idea either. Why was Nix talking to a blanket?

The fabric shimmered, then transformed into a familiar silver cloth—the Destroyer’s Mantle.

“You’re addressing the Mantle?” Zephyr asked, his tone clearly concerned for Nix’s mental health.

Hello. It’s nice to be able to make contact with you. My name is Xchulban. But I prefer Ban.

The voice wound into Cal’s mind like a slim thread. Its touch was light as a feather, then the sensation retreated as quickly as it had appeared. Cal turned to Zephyr, whose mouth hung open. “Did the Mantle just talk to you?”

“I heard it, too. Nix, care to explain?” Zephyr seated himself on the couch.

Cal listened for the next few minutes while Nix outlined her discovery. How the Mantle was actually the skin of aliens unfortunate enough to be captured by Zeus and exploited by Nereus. “Sweet Aphrodite. What a bastard. No wonder Destroyers are nearly unbeatable.”

“And why Nereus keeps the technology so close to the vest.” Zephyr tipped his head to Nix. “By keeping it in the family, so to speak.”

“Once we get my father back, he’s got a lot to answer for.” Nix tightened her jaw and swallowed hard.

Cal agreed. The old man had earned a serious tongue-lashing. “Can the Mantle—”

Ban. Please call me by my name.

“Apologies. Ban, can you tell us where Nereus is?”

Yes. I left you clues. The sand in Nix’s shoes and the blood on her clothes.

“That was you?” Nix said. “We were wondering why I was dirty.”

I was testing the limits of my control. Whoever took me wasn’t Nereus. They didn’t follow the same protocols and safeguards were missed. That is why I have been able to speak with you.

“It’s Chilly!” Basil shouted. The bird had been so quiet Cal had forgotten he was there.

“He’s cold,” Cal said to Nix.

“No. He means Chile, as in South America.” Nix retrieved a laptop from her bag. “Ban, can you give me any more clues?”

Sadly, no. While I can independently control myself right now, the thief did remember to activate the erasure program.

“Well, that sucks. Chile is pretty damn big,” Cal said. Basil shifted from his perch and landed on Cal’s shoulder, claws digging into his skin. Cal tried not to think about Basil’s true form.

Nix didn’t seem to put off by the revelation. “We’re not sunk yet.” She pulled out her cell phone. “I’m calling Portia’s shop. There was a picture there—hello, yes...”

While Nix spoke with the clerk, Cal looked at the Mantle again and suppressed a shudder. Gods, how weird was that. Sentient skin. If he didn’t make it out of this alive, he wanted his body to be cremated and his ashes scattered into the sea, or onto the wind.

Nix closed the phone. “Bingo. The Atacama Desert.” She opened her laptop and started tapping keys. “Says here, it’s the driest place on Earth. A perfect place to subdue Nereus’ ability to harness water.” Nix spun the computer around to face Cal. “You have clearance into the League’s mainframe. Can you access the satellite?”

Cal took over typing. The satellite wasn’t common knowledge, but Nix wasn’t the average Nymph either. She probably didn’t know that the satellite was a hybrid of mortal and God technology. The interface ran through the Oracles of Delphi. One of their duties, in the modern world, was to monitor mortal and God activities.

“I tapped into the feed.” He entered the GPS coordinate for the Atacama and zoomed in, bringing ground level closer and closer. The landscape was fairly unspectacular, nothing but sand and hills.

They have masked their presence. Your technology can’t perceive them. If you take me there, I can locate their signal and bring you to the exact location.

Cal closed the laptop. “Road trip?”

Zephyr stood up. “Nix, Cal and I need to prepare. We’ll return with supplies.” When Nix arched an eyebrow, he added, “We’re going to need to bring a lot of water. We can’t have you passing out or unable to use your powers now, can we? Do you have any ideas on how we can get to Chile quickly?”

Cal had to hand it to the guy. He was smooth. Everything Zephyr said was true. What he didn’t say was they had another, more pressing matter to attend to before they went.

One that Nix couldn’t find out about, until it was too late for her to stop them.

Impatience ate away at Nix. Doing nothing was not in her makeup. She paced back and forth while she waited for Cal and Zephyr to return. After an hour of fruitless treadmilling inside the house, she stomped outside, kicking hot sand ahead of her. The beach was occupied by neighboring families catching rays, eating snacks, totally oblivious to the larger cosmic forces conspiring to end their existence.

Nix stopped at the shore’s edge. She burrowed her bare feet into the cool, wet surface and watched the ocean’s water tug in and out, dragging the sand from under her heels. The water, the source of all a Nereid’s strength, calmed her. She breathed in the salted air and slowed her mind. There was a way to rescue Nereus and prevent Typhon’s release. She spun through a list of possible solutions, sorting them one at a time.

First problem—find a fast, stealthy mode of transportation to South America. Human conveyances were out of the question—too slow and too risky to innocent passengers. Portia had been very specific about setting up a drop point at Mystic Center. She expected Nix to do as she was told, like a good little drone, and deliver Typhon’s seal into Portia’s hands in exchange for Nereus.

Throughout all their years together, Portia had never bothered to get to know Nix. A fact Nix planned to exploit to the fullest advantage. The other Gods weren’t allowed to provide direct assistance, but if the request were innocuous enough, that wouldn’t be helping. Right?

Nix ran back into the house and dialed her cell. “Charon. Hey, did I catch you at a bad time? Remember last year, when I won the office raffle? I would like to collect on my prize now.”

There was a long beat of silence. Nix wanted to curse the Fates and their stupid rules, but then Charon answered. “What time shall I deliver it?”

“How about in five minutes? At the beach house.”

“Fine.” Then Charon was gone.

Whew. One problem solved. Nix pocketed the phone and headed toward the stairs to change clothes. She had just entered the sunroom when heavy footsteps pounded up the wooden front steps. The screen door screeched on its hinges, then banged back in place. When Cal and Zephyr joined her, their faces both wore neutral expressions. Their casual nonchalance set off all kinds of alarm bells in Nix’s head.

Cal spoke first. “Nix, do you trust me?”

Nix searched his face. A faint trace of antiseptic tickled her nostrils. Was he hurt? Cal gently squeezed her shoulders, prompting her to respond. “Yes. You know I do.”

“Then curb your questions for little while longer.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I promise to explain, later.”

Nix leaned upward, kissing his soft, full mouth. “Okay.”

Zephyr cleared his throat. “Nix, you have a visitor.”

Nix peered behind him to see Charon walking up the concrete steps from the beach. In the distance, a longboat hovered over the surf, casting a shadow over the unsuspecting mortal swimmers below.

“Our ride is here.” Nix shouldered on her backpack, trying not to groan at the weight. Spelled to contain gallons of water, it was much heavier than it looked.

Nix caught up to Charon as he crossed the small grassy backyard. She plastered a big grin on her face. “I can’t wait to go fishing. I never thought I would accept this prize.” She clammed up. To speak of her actual plans in front of Charon would count as knowledge, and he would take his boat and go back to the Underworld.

“Try not to sink it,” Charon rasped. “Make sure your trip doesn’t last longer than twenty-four hours from the time you board the ship. Once your time is up, it will return to me, with or without you.” Charon handed a bronze dial to Nix. “This is the key. So the boat will follow your commands.”

“Charon, don’t you need this boat to ferry souls?” Cal asked as he shifted his pack on his shoulders. He was fully armed: knives strapped to each thigh, two pistols tucked into holsters, and a bow with quiver attached to the pack.

Charon looked Cal up and down, no doubt curious about the arsenal. Thankfully he didn’t ask questions or voice any concerns.

“Nah. This is one of my private pleasure boats. Good fishing.” He turned on his heels, walked two steps, then vanished.

“Am I the only one repulsed by the idea of what Charon probably does for pleasure?” Zephyr said with a shudder.

“Nope,” Cal said. “Let’s not go there.”

They walked down to the beach and stopped at the water line. “How the hell are we supposed to get on board?” Nix shaded her eyes from the sun. A couple of ideas floated through her head—maybe a water bridge? A cool mist touched her calves. Fog rolled in around her ankles, coalescing into a spongy pillow.

“No worries.” Zephyr raised his arms, pulling them all up off the ground. They sailed on a cloud up to the deck and landed with a small bump.

“Show off,” Nix grumbled, her stomach doing flip flops.

Zephyr winked and dropped his backpack onto the deck. “Cal, would you do the honors? You are the most qualified sailor among us.”

Nix agreed with that one. Cal took the bronze dial from her and walked to the stern. The ship didn’t have a steering wheel, but a long handle, presumably connected to the rudder. “Nix, bring Ban back here with me. I need him to navigate.”

The Mantle unfurled into the ocean breeze, the ends flapping lightly. Nix was almost positive Portia had no idea the Mantles were really alien slaves. She was also sure her sister would have stolen another Mantle to use for her own purposes. Nix just hadn’t figured out how Portia would control her Mantle. The cloaks were normally deprogrammed after every mission to ensure they couldn’t be used by non-authorized personnel.

The boat lurched under her feet and rose upward. She stumbled her way to a pile of wooden crates and sat down, as far away from the ship’s railing as she could get. Nereids didn’t like heights, and she was no exception. When Zephyr commented on her white knuckles, she flipped him off.

Zephyr sat down next to her. “Jason and Devlin are positioned in Mystic Center. They’ll alert me when Portia arrives.”

Nix appreciated her friend’s attempt to distract her. How the hell high was this ship going to rise? At the rate they were ascending, they would be in outer space. “That’s good,” she choked out as the boat suddenly stopped.

“Hang on!” Cal shouted.

Without warning, the craft launched forward in a zero to twenty-five thousand miles per hour start that would have given a NASA astronaut wood. Nix latched onto Zephyr with a death grip and squeezed her eyes shut. Surprisingly, they were protected from the effects of moving so quickly through space and time. There was barely a breeze to ruffle her hair.

“First time ever traveling like this?” Zephyr’s tone sounded exhilarated. Of course, he probably loved it.

Nix cracked her eyes open and squeaked, “Yes.” The sky zipped by so fast it was a blur. Nix unclenched her hands from Zephyr’s arm. “I always go by sea or land. I don’t like heights.”

“We should be there in a few minutes. Do you have a plan of attack in mind?”

“Yes. Ban said my father would be minimally guarded. So my plan is to avoid detection. Between the three of us, we should be able to overcome any traps or spells.” Nix sounded more confident than she actually felt. While Portia wasn’t a genius, her accomplices had more than two brain cells to rub together. And there was the underlying feeling that this was all too easy.

“Full stop coming up!” Cal warned.

Nix gripped the box’s edge, prepared to fly forward. But instead, the ship continued to defy the laws of physics and stopped smoothly. A bleak, barren landscape surrounded them. For miles, nothing but grayish blue sand and endless mounds of gravel and scrub brush.

“Are you okay?” Cal joined them. Ban in one hand, brass dial in the other.

“I’m fine. Let’s go.” Nix walked to the side rail. How would they disembark? The side railing vanished. She jumped backward as a wooden staircase appeared. It unfurled one step at a time until the last step touched the ground. “Why didn’t you do that before?” Nix grumbled at the hull. “And don’t you dare leave without us.”

The stairway vibrated as if insulted. A well-timed fireball from Cal settled the staircase down.