Tear Down Heaven: Urban Fantasy Action with Witches and Demons, page 22
“You don’t have that problem, though,” Nemini said, glancing over her shoulder at her sister. “Unlike me, you are still what Ishtar made you to be. Whereas I had no interest in leaving the void, you couldn’t wait to get out of it and get back to your duty. I told you once that you’re the queen I should have been. Now that every demon has bowed their horns to you, that’s literally true. You’re the Queen of all demons now, including Pride, which means you should be able to use the power I no longer can.”
Bex was panting too hard to gasp properly at that, but she still managed to gape at her sister. It was true she’d covered herself in scales and attacked with weaponized tragedy to end her fight with the Prince of Fear, but those were both things that normal fear and sorrow demons did. Drox had told her earlier that without active prayers, Bex was limited only to the powers Ishtar had granted to demonkind, but it hadn’t occurred to her that definition included other queens’ abilities as well.
It still didn’t feel possible. Surely a change that important would’ve come with a sense or a trigger or something to let Bex know it was there, but she didn’t feel any different than she usually did. Nemini wasn’t the sort to suggest something unless she was sure of it, though, so Bex swallowed her misgivings and asked, “How do I do it?”
“I already told you,” her sister said patiently. “You have to be proud. Remember that you are the greatest queen, a divine force nothing can defeat. You must pin your horns to the sky and plant your feet so firmly on the ground that they can never be moved. Do that, and the mountains themselves will bow before you.”
Bex was cringing by the time Nemini finished. “I see why you can’t do it anymore,” she muttered. “That sounds like a lethal amount of ego.”
“It was the Pride of Ishtar,” Nemini agreed. “Gods aren’t known for being humble. It should still work, though, assuming you can pull it off.”
That was a big assumption. Bex had stood up to Ishtar for her people’s sake, but the idea of planting her feet and trying to stop a charging bull with nothing but her own hubris sounded like a good way to turn herself into a speed bump. She also still didn’t know if the bull would let her use it. He’d already sealed her fire and her sword. What if he’d cut her off from everything else as well?
I think it will work, Drox said. For all its power, the bull is merely Ishtar’s tool. He judged you as a misbehaving queen, but you are Ishtar’s daughter, born of her own divine flesh. That means you outrank a lowly beast. Her sword’s voice grew deadly. It’s time that fool remembers just whom he presumes to judge.
Easy for Drox to say. He’d always been the first to remind Bex of her position. Still, the idea of taking all his puffed-up queen talk and saying it herself like she really felt she was superior made Bex want to bury herself in the dirt. She didn’t know what else to do, though. This was literally their only idea, so Bex did the same thing she’d been doing all her life. She shoved her fears aside and went for it, slamming her feet into the ground as she whirled around to face the bull head-on.
Since they’d been running up the steep hill toward Uruk’s old stone castle, this put Bex on higher ground. Good thing, too. She’d gotten used to bluffing during the seven years she’d spent as a burned-out husk, but it still took every nerve Bex had to hold her ground as the gigantic bull thundered toward her. If she’d been lower than those horns, she would’ve crumpled on instinct. For at least the next few seconds, though, Bex stood above them, and she used the extra height to maximum advantage, lifting her own six horns to the cavern’s dark sky as she commanded, “Stop.”
The word tore out of her the same way her fire did. Her actual flames were still smothered by the bull’s censure, but nothing could change that Bex was the one all of Ishtar’s people had bowed to. She was the queen who’d destroyed the Hells, stood up to a goddess, and cut Gilgamesh’s fortress in half. With a lot of help, admittedly, but the whole point of being a leader was that people followed you. Bex wasn’t strong because of her horns or her fire or her name. She was strong because she had strong people who supported her without reservation. They were the ones who’d lifted her up to where she was now, and pride in them was the mountain she stood on as she stared the charging bull down.
“Stop,” she said again.
The bull roared and tossed his horns, turning the stone road to gravel as he stomped his sharp hooves. For all the destruction and noise, though, he was no longer moving forward, and for the first time since the Prince of Envy had tossed them down here, Bex’s face split into a smile.
“Kneel,” she ordered.
The bull bellowed again, but his knees still hit the ground, going down one leg at a time until his giant belly was pressed against the road.
“That’s better,” Bex said, breathing deep to hide her crushing relief. “Can you speak?”
The bull snorted through its giant nostrils. Just like before, though, the meaning still came through clearly.
Of course. I am a divine creation, not some dumb animal.
“Then why are you charging around like one?” Bex snapped, getting angry again now that the terror of impending death was subsiding. “We’re all children of Ishtar here, so what are you—”
Liar! the bull trumpeted. I know you! You are the Blade of Ishtar, and yet your flames are tainted with the blood of Holy Enki! You are a godslayer! A traitor! You—
“And you are dead,” Bex reminded him, waving her hand at the stone roof high above their heads. “The mortal hero Enkidu slew you five thousand years ago, after which you were sealed down here by Gilgamesh the Traitor, conqueror of Paradise and murderer of the gods.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If you’re going to point your horns at me, know that all of mine are pointing back. This war’s a lot more complicated than it used to be, but we are both creations of the gods. The important thing now is to decide whose side you stand on: Gilgamesh’s, or your fellow children of Paradise?”
I stand with Ishtar, the bull snorted. But what do you mean I am dead? I’m a creation of the eternal gods. I cannot die!
“I don’t know how you ended up here,” Bex told him honestly. “But if you’ll stop raging for a moment and look around, you’ll see that we’re not on Earth or in the Riverlands anymore. We’re stuck in one of Gilgamesh’s prisons. My sister and I were trying to escape when you attacked. I can take you with us when we go back to Paradise, but only if you promise to stop trying to kill me.”
Never! the bull roared, tossing his head. You are a godslayer!
He ended with his black nose stuck obstinately in the air, and Drox made a disgusted sound inside Bex’s head.
Don’t waste your time on this oaf, my queen. His rage-drunk mind can’t possibly understand the nuances of all that has changed in the past five thousand years.
“Perhaps,” Bex said. “But I was a loyal weapon of Ishtar myself not that long ago, so I understand where he’s coming from.” She frowned for a moment, and then she glanced back up at the bull, who was already pushing at the limits of her new pride.
“How about we make a deal?”
The bull looked disgusted. I don’t bargain with murderers.
“This bargain doesn’t involve me,” Bex promised. “I won’t even be there. I’m just offering you a chance to trample some actual traitors.”
The bull stopped fighting at once. Continue.
“There’s a great forest down in the living world where the armies of Gilgamesh are gathered,” Bex explained in her best tempting voice. “Why waste your time in this dark, boring place, chasing one godslayer, when you can trample thousands of them? They’re mortals, too. Easy to crush.”
An army of mortals, you say? The bull perked up. I haven’t crushed one of those in ages.
“You can crush these to your heart’s content,” Bex promised. “They’re servants of the enemy, slavers who’ve befouled Paradise. They’re down there right now, seeking to destroy the last power capable of dethroning Ishtar’s murderer. If you trample them, you’ll be avenging her death.”
Yes! Yes! the bull bellowed. I would do anything to avenge her! Even in this strange land, I knew that she was gone. His black eyes flashed as he started fighting Bex’s command to kneel even harder. I will destroy them all!
“Then you’d better not trample me, because I’m the only one who can get you down there,” Bex said. “You also have to swear on Ishtar’s name that you won’t hurt the trees or the witches who guard them. Only Gilgamesh’s servants shall die. Promise me that, and I’ll let you get up.”
I promise! I promise! the bull cried. Take me to them! Let me crush them!
“We’ll head right over,” Bex promised, easing back her hold to let the bull rise to his feet again. “Just let me talk to my sister first.”
The bull nodded and started kicking his hind legs excitedly. If he hadn’t been a murderous monster the size of a barn, it would’ve been cute. As it was, the shaking from his pounding hooves was collapsing the last parts of the ancient city that hadn’t already been trampled. That was a shame considering the age of the place, but since the city was Gilgamesh’s, Bex was having a hard time feeling guilty.
“That was well done,” Nemini said, patting her sister on the shoulder. “You’re a better Pride than I was.”
“I know that’s not true, but thank you,” Bex said, wrapping her arms around her tattered jacket as the storm of nerves she’d been desperately holding back finally shook through her. “Have you been able to reach anyone on the comms yet?”
“No,” Nemini said. “But I saw Leander teleport out with Adrian while we were falling, so I’m sure they’re working on it.”
Bex heaved a relieved sigh. Leander was still a question mark, but if there was anyone she trusted to rescue them, it was Adrian. Her clever witch always found a way. She just had to be patient and wait, so that was exactly what Bex did, sitting down next to her sister on the doorstep of Uruk’s ancient palace while the Bull of Ishtar continued his happy, ground-shaking dance on the dark road in front of them.
CHAPTER 13
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ADRIAN HAD NEVER WORKED so hard to sink into his forest.
Merging with his Blackwood was normally like sinking into water, but he wasn’t on a prepared bed beneath his heart tree. He was on Gilgamesh’s palace floor. A hard stone floor built to reject every aspect of life. Adrian’s vines had already wrapped all the way around the building, but like every other part of the Blackwood except for himself and Boston, they couldn’t cross the threshold into the actual palace. He was still technically inside his forest because he had plants surrounding him, but Gilgamesh’s fortress was like a burn zone where nothing could grow.
That severely limited what Adrian was able to do, but ingenuity was the soul of witchcraft, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t have a good foundation to work from. His heart was pumping at the base of the biggest tree he’d ever grown. His body might be just a tendril pushing into the wasteland of Gilgamesh’s control, but his roots ran all the way back to the land of the living. He just needed to—
His progress was interrupted by a loud bash right next to his head. The hit cracked the stone cocoon of the Seven Walled City like an eggshell before Leander, who’d been standing over Adrian like a guard this whole time, muttered something under his breath. The walls pulled themselves back together a second later, and his sorcerer brother let out a sigh of relief.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’ve reinforced the outer rings, though if you could work faster, that would be good.”
Adrian nodded and lay back on the ground again, closing his mind against the increasingly violent banging coming from the Prince of Envy to focus on his pulse. He could feel it strong and steady despite his heart not being inside his body, and Adrian threw himself into its waves like a harbor seal, diving down, down, down as fast as he could away from this dead land to the place where life still thrived.
There was a lot of it to choose from. Adrian had been growing trees since he was seven, but he’d never been plugged straight into the Great Cycles like he was now. No wonder his mother had been able to move their entire coven through his roots. Between the ocean of quintessence he’d poured in from his end and the centuries-long witchcraft the Blackwood Coven had prepared to meet it, the taproot of his new heart tree went all the way to the roots of the Great Blackwood itself.
He’d always felt the Great Forest at the edge of his consciousness. Now that he’d dived in headfirst, though, Adrian was suddenly swimming through primordial magic. He swore he could feel the Great Cycles turning around him, which was terrifying because they had no care for him. The engine of life was bigger than any individual soul, and it rolled over him like a boulder down a hill. It would crush his soul to pulp if he wasn’t careful, but Adrian had always been quick on his feet, and he knew exactly where he was going.
Faster than he’d ever moved in his life, Adrian darted through the enormousness of the living world’s magic for the little patch of green that belonged to him. This was why it was always best to grow good roots from the start. Despite being poisoned with quintessence and having its heart tree ripped out and moved to the land of the dead, Adrian’s forest on Bainbridge Island was still right where he’d left it.
He could feel the roots of his witchwood as they slumbered in their seasonal hibernation, feel the cold water of the famous winter rains that had finally arrived in Seattle. He couldn’t feel his cottage since his mother had picked it up and stuck it in his new branches like a birdhouse, but his garden was still there. The beds were dead and neglected, but the soil was rich and would be ready for planting again in the spring. And hidden in that soil, buried under the large stone that used to serve as the step for his back door, was the treasure he was searching for.
Adrian snatched it up like a hunting hawk. The wrapped object was small and compact, but while he had no problem carrying it with him through the roots, getting it back to his physical body proved much more challenging. His heart might be woven into the tapestry of the Great Forest, but the vines he’d wrapped around Gilgamesh’s palace were simply too small and young to transport an object of that size. No matter which direction Adrian turned it, the wrapped package kept getting stuck. He was starting to feel really frantic when a voice he’d completely forgotten about suddenly spoke in his ear.
“You guys still okay in there?” Iggs whispered over the comm. “I’m hearing some pretty scary noises.”
“Iggs!” Adrian cried, snapping out of his delve into the forest to grab the plastic speaker in his ear. “Fantastic timing! Put Boston on.”
Anyone else would’ve been insulted by the idea of being passed over for a cat, but Iggs had always understood witches the best of any of Bex’s demons. He handed the comm over immediately, and Adrian heaved a sigh of relief as Boston’s voice came over the speaker.
“So I just push down on this button when I want to talk?”
“Boston!” Adrian cried, yelling over Iggs’s hasty explanation. “I need you to go to the front door of the palace and grab something from the vines. You don’t have to bring it all the way to me, and don’t unwrap it. Just run it to the top of the staircase we went down and toss it in.”
“Don’t unwrap—” Boston repeated in confusion, then his voice grew furious. “Wait a minute. I know what you’re doing! Adrian, that’s very dangerous. Are you sure you want to—”
“Dead sure,” Adrian said, glancing up at the cracks that were forming in the stone walls faster than Leander’s now-constant stream of sorcery could repair. “Do it quickly, we’re almost dead.”
Those must’ve been the magic words, because the next thing Adrian heard was the thunk of the comm hitting the floor as Boston darted away.
“Were you just talking to your cat?” Leander asked tersely.
“Yes,” Adrian said as he stood back up as much as he could inside their shelter, which was now very small. “Don’t worry. Help is on the way.”
Leander stopped straining long enough to give him a scathing look. “Help from your cat?”
“Boston is a fully initiated member of the Blackwood coven,” Adrian informed him proudly. “He’s also got my broom, so he should be—”
The rest of his assurances were knocked out of his head when something hit Leander’s sorcery hard enough to shatter all seven walls. His brother was sent flying, but Adrian managed to hold his ground, staring defiantly into the cracked, dirty face of the sneering Princess of Envy.
“Well done,” her prince said as the princess lowered the fist she’d just used to crack open Leander’s Seven Walled City. “Now that the insects are out from under their rock, this should be quick.”
“Are you sure you want to take that risk?” Adrian stalled frantically. “I’m still the only prince who can use witchcraft and sorcery together. That makes me very valuable to Gilgamesh. Surely you don’t want to anger—”
“That line won’t work on me,” the prince interrupted as his princess moved around Adrian to wrestle his arms behind his back. “Perhaps all that cowering made you forget, but I’m the Prince of Envy. I hate every son Father raises above me. It’s not my fault. I’ve always striven to be the rational one, but no prince is immune to the influence of his sword. That’s why my princess and I are normally kept far away from the others, but Father doesn’t care what happens to us anymore. After Alexander’s disastrous loss of the Hells, Gilgamesh has washed his hands of this place, which means I’m finally free to eliminate the competition.”
“Doesn’t that mean you shouldn’t care about killing me?” Adrian asked frantically, struggling against the princess, who seemed to be trying to wrench his arms out of their sockets. “If Gilgamesh has abandoned us, why do you still care about being his top prince?”
“Because he will care,” the Prince of Envy explained. “Father’s busy changing the very nature of this world. He doesn’t have time to burden himself with stupid family drama, but he will take note of who was effective and who wasn’t.”
