Promise of Shadows (11 page)

a word, giving up his chair so that Nanda can collapse into it with
an audible sigh. She turns to me and says, “That’s how I’m figuring she sent the grass men after me. Hera’s been chasing me for nearly twenty years. Her Acolytes send out seeker spells to try to find shadow vættir. It was just my good luck she found me on a day
when you kids were strolling up the walk.”
“You’re a shadow vættir?” I ask.
Nanda nods. “Yep. Not something our kind like to advertise,
but there are still a few of us running around.” At my shocked look
she laughs. “Every vættir race has its dark and its bright members,
even Harpies. It’s less about who you are and more about where
you get your power from.”
I bite my lip, because everything I learned in the Aerie tells me
the shadow vættir are unnatural, and that their strangeness is what
led to them dying out. But that can’t be true, because Nanda is a
shadow vættir.
And so am I.
Cass climbs to her feet.The lost expression on her face has faded
away, which I’m pretty sure was Nanda’s goal. “I could definitely
strengthen the spell, maybe add a few layers that would trigger a
warning. How do you feel about a backlash spell? You know, just
in case someone tries to tamper with the ward.”
Nanda grins. The twisting of her lips is more devious than
friendly. “Blondie, I like the way you think. Blue take her outside
and help her fix the ward. Two layers, at least. More if you’re feeling ambitious.Tallon’s out there already, but you know how bad he
is with æther.”
Blue nods, and then he and Cass file out the back door. Now Nanda and I are all alone.
I look at her, and time fades away. It could’ve been just yesterday that she was arriving at our house in the Aerie like a tropical storm, bearing cookies and promises of fun. Nanda was the only person I knew that could make my mother laugh. Their friendship went back to when they were kids, and I always thought my mother must’ve been a much different person when Nanda met her. Otherwise I can’t imagine the two of them ever becoming
friends.
Nanda leans back in her chair. Her posture seems relaxed, but
I can see the telltale tension in her shoulders. She’s Harpy trained,
after all. Even now, so far from the Aerie, it shows. She could kill
me before I even have a chance to move. “Why did you stop visiting?” I ask before I can think twice.
Nanda throws her head back and laughs. The birthday-cake
scent of her amusement is genuine. “You always did get straight
to the heart of the matter. It was one of the things I adored about
you.”
I smile. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I didn’t, did I?” She sighs. “It was your mother, mostly.
She began to take a turn, one that put too much of a strain on
our friendship. We grew up together, you know?” I nod, because
I remember their stories of “back in the day.” They were one of
my favorite parts of Nanda’s visits, the chance to see my mom as
something more than a fierce general.
Nanda shrugs and continues. “She used to see the Aerie as a necessary evil. As she got older, she lost the sense of adventure she’d had when she was younger, clinging more and more to the traditions inside those walls. When she told me that she didn’t think it was a good idea for Alora and Tallon to come the next time I visited, I knew I’d lost her. As brave as Harpies may be in battle, they’re terrified of the outside world.” Nanda shakes her
head sadly.
There’s no doubting the truth of her words. I remember how
our field trips to town stopped as I got older. I always thought it
was because my mom got too busy once she was promoted to general. But now I realize it could’ve been motivated by fear as well. “Why don’t you like Cass?” I ask, changing the subject. “The old stories say that she’s the reason the last Nyx was killed.
She’s the great Betrayer, and I don’t trust her. It has nothing to do
with liking her.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would, growing up in the Aerie and
all. It’s not like they teach all of the old stories there.” Nanda sighs.
“Perhaps this story is best if I start at the beginning.”
“Okay.”
Nanda clears her throat and begins speaking in Æthereal. “In
the old days there was chaos. Gods and men mingled freely, and
the darkness and light ran rampant. Time was nonexistent. Man
and Æthereals both lived many lifetimes. The first among Titans,
Cronus, was angered by this. He despised humans and felt they
didn’t deserve to live as long as the gods. He decided that the worlds needed to be brought to order and he would do this by splitting up the realms. The majority of the bright æther and his favorites would go to the most perfect reality, the Æthereal Realm. Those he disliked or thought inferior, and the erebos that he couldn’t control, would go to the lower realm. See, Cronus was only going to create two realms, but then he was betrayed by the
drakans.”
I prop my elbows on the table, thinking of the one I encountered in the Underworld and its chuffing laughter. I can’t see a
creature that massive bending to the whim of anyone, even a god. Nanda continues. “Cronus had a deal with the drakans to create
a space of emptiness, a boundary between the realms that we now
know as the Rift. The boundary was supposed to keep the bright
in the highest realm and the dark in the lowest realm. Cronus
planned for mankind to be destroyed utterly, since humans cannot
live entirely in either of the realms for too long. Mankind needs
balance, and that is not something that the Æthereals are good at
providing.
“Cronus, who was indeed an old and crafty god, had overlooked
just how many Æthereals loved humans, and vice versa. Even the
leader of the drakans had human companions, and it refused to
contribute to the annihilation of mortal kind. So the drakans
betrayed Cronus and created three realms instead of two, trapping
enough of the erebos and æther in the Mortal Realm that mortals
would be saved. And then they created portals between the realms
that would allow a few chosen ones to travel between the realms.” This part of the story I know. “When the humans heard how
Cronus wanted to betray them, they forsook him and took up
worship of his children instead.”
Nanda smiles and nods. “And in retaliation Cronus cursed the
Mortal Realm with time. That’s why we age here. And it’s why
Cass could survive in Tartarus for so long. There’s no time in the
Underworld or Æthereal realm.”
I nod. “Okay, I get that. But how does all that tie in to the Nyx?” “For a while humans and vættir were united behind Zeus and
Hades to fight Cronus and the rest of the Titans. But once they
were defeated, humans began to fight the Æthereals. The Exalteds
thought of the Mortal Realm as their playground, manipulating
some vættir for their own amusement, enslaving others. It didn’t
take long before that got old.”
I nod. Not much has changed since then, from what I can see.
Most of the contracts taken on by the Aerie were for one god or
another, invisible wars that most mortals never knew about. “So
the vættir joined with the humans in fighting the Æthereals.” “Yes. In those days the vættir weren’t hidden like they are now.
So the vættir and humans began to fight the Æthereals, pushing
them out of the Mortal Realm. The average human has no chance
against an Æthereal.”
Understanding dawns on me. “But an army of vættir could.” Nanda nods. “Zeus and the High Council refused to give in to
the demands of the vættir army. But Hades and his dark lords had
had enough of war, and they agreed to retreat to the Underworld permanently. It looked like the Æthereal-Vættir War would go on forever, but then Zeus fell in love with one of the vættir generals, Circe. The two of them would meet along the river Styx, where
Zeus would proclaim his love to her.”
I wrinkle my nose because I’ve been to the Styx. Not the most
romantic place for a hookup.
Nanda is still talking, so I push aside the remembered stink of
dead fish and focus on what she’s saying. “She made Zeus swear on
the Styx that he would help her end this war, and even go so far as
to appoint champions that would protect the vættir from the tyranny of the Æthereals. In a moment of weakness he agreed, even
though his promise enraged the rest of the High Æthereals. The
first champions, Heracles and Tischa, were born a few years later.” I blink. “Wasn’t Heracles Zeus’s kid?”
Nanda smirks at me. “The Exalteds fall in and out of love very
quickly.”
I snort. “I bet. Who’s Tischa?” I ask, pronouncing it like she
does with a
sshh
sound.
“Tischa was the first Nyx, the champion of the shadow vættir. See, the Mortal Realm, unlike the Æthereal Realm and the
Underworld, is all about balance. There were two champions: one
of the dark and one of the bright. These champions were gods
given flesh, just as powerful as the Exalteds but restricted by their
lifespans. Every hundred years, there was a new champion chosen by the dark, a complement to the champion chosen by the
light. But not all of the shadow champions were strong enough to be called the Nyx, just like not all bright champions are strong enough to be called the Pandarus. The last true Nyx lived over two
thousand years ago.”
“Until he was murdered by Odysseus Oathbreaker.” Nanda and
I both look toward the door, where Cass stands. She comes to the
table and sits down.
Nanda clears her throat. “I take it the ward is repaired?” “Yes. It’s a good ward.” Cass leans back in her chair and plays
with the ragged end of her hair. Is she nervous? Can she even get
nervous? She clears her throat. “Did you tell her that my father is
the Pandarus who set off the Dark Prophecy?”
Nanda shakes her head, and maybe I imagine it, but I’m pretty
sure I see the briefest flicker of fear in her expression. The whiff of
spoiling grapefruit confirms her panic though. Nanda clears her
throat. “I’ve said nothing. I didn’t, um . . . get to that part.” Cass can’t smell the fear in Nanda’s words, but I can. Is Cass
really that scary?
I think of her family line. Circe, who talked a god into ending
a war; Perseus, who killed the Medusa; and Heracles, who killed a
cerberus with his bare hands. Heroes, all of them. That might be a
little intimidating.
“Please let me tell it. After all, I lived it.” Cass turns to me, her
green eyes wide and guileless. She somehow looks younger right
now than ever before, even though she just stood up to Nanda.
“My father was appointed the champion of the bright, and for a
few years he was happy fighting monsters and keeping the dark ones in line. But then Hera approached him, promising him an Æthereal for a wife if he were to betray the dark champion. My mother had passed on a few years before, and my father thought I
needed a mother to ensure a good marriage.”
I nod, even though my knowledge of ancient vættir customs is
woefully lacking. I’m guessing that arranged marriages were pretty
common?
Cass sighs. “What Nanda probably did not tell you is that the
dark champion is much stronger than the bright. Always has been.
The dark lords were happy to remain in the Underworld, so there
were few problems for the champion of the bright to deal with. Just
a random monster birthed by the Rift every now and then. But the
High Council was still angry at having their war ended early. They
were hungry for power after their victory over the Titans, and they
were determined to rule the Mortal Realm as well. The only thing
stopping them was the vættir.”
“So what, your dad went and killed this dark champion guy?” Cass stills, like a snake about to strike. Her voice is low when
she speaks. “Elias was supposed to meet me. We were running
away to be married. My father found out and summoned Hera,
saying he would accept her deal. By then a few of the Oracles were
talking about a Dark Prophecy and a time of fear and pain for the
vættir. They saw a Pandarus setting the events in motion, and even
though my father knew about the Dark Prophecy, he didn’t care.
He arrived at the meeting place before I did and killed Elias right
in front of me. I killed my father in retaliation, and it was only as he lay there dying that he confessed he’d done it out of some
obligation to me.”
I want to reach out to Cass and comfort her, but her eyes are
dry. From her expression she could be relating a recipe for cookies.
I feel a pang of sympathy for her. She lost so much when she lost
her emotions, but maybe it’s more a gift than a curse. It would be
hard to live for thousands of years with the weight of what she
went through.
Nanda shifts in her chair and clears her throat again. “With both
of the champions dead, things became very bad for the vættir. We
tried fighting back against the Exalteds, but by then Hera had begun
recruiting vættir and low-level Æthereals to serve her. She called
them her Acolytes. After a thousand years or so the Pandarus was
reborn and aligned himself with the Acolytes, as did his successors.
Most vættir were too afraid to fight the Acolytes, so we all became
very scattered. Then, fifteen hundred years after the death of Elias,
an Oracle announced that there would be a new dark champion, the
Prophecy of the Promise. He said the new Nyx would be a daughter
of the dark. She would lead the vættir out of their oppression.” I stand and begin to pace. “That’s supposed to be me?” Nanda sighs loudly. “Yes.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why wasn’t a Nyx born sooner? I
mean, you said that there have been several Pandarus since Cass’s
father.”
Nanda’s expression is grim, and her lips tighten for a moment
before she speaks.“Since the prophecy, Hera and her Acolytes have been killing anyone they find to have an affinity for the erebos. It could be that a Nyx was born before now, but just never came into their full abilities. Most shadow vættir are in hiding and have been for centuries. They don’t speak to other vættir, and they don’t use their powers. A few of us have set up a system of safe houses to help those who are outed. I’m a part of that system. In the past few months things have gotten even worse. Where it used to be two or three shadow vættir killed a month, it’s now up to ten or twenty.
Pretty soon the shadow vættir will be wiped out.”
“And then Hera will move on to the bright vættir,” Cass says.
“She’ll enslave them like the old days, and eventually move on