Going Thru Hell (16 page)

“That's it. I know you don't believe me.” He tilted my head until his eyes filled my vision, our noses millimeters apart, “But believe this, I would never lie to you. I meant what I said hours ago. I will give you everything, for your survival, for Riot. For whatever happens. I exist only for you.” Releasing his hold, he left me on the mattress, quickly donning pajama bottoms and closing the door to the bathroom behind him.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Rejoicing in the uncontrollable feelings, knees against my chest, I let random thoughts pass. I could hear the Valkyries outside my door again, their boisterous personalities creating a smile. I could enjoy them for a time. We needed to plan, to figure out the best way to rescue Riot.

If he'd been buried deep, I'd need massive amounts of
juice to find him. I could go back far enough to keep him from being taken. Perhaps hide him again. The one nagging thought circling unanswered,
how did they find him in the first place?
I'd never told anyone of this place. Not even Tiamat.

Oh, no.

I ran down the hall, shoving past the sisters, ignoring their gasps of surprise. Taking the left hall, I had to find my mother.
Please, no. Not this young. No. No. No. No.
I slammed into a wall, unable to turn fast enough, bounced off and ran again. I found my parents' room, banging on the heavy metal door, “Mom! Mom! Dad! Please, open up!”

Dad opened the door, staring at me in shock. “Did he bloom?” I shook his shoulders, “Did he braid, damn it!”

“We don't know. Not that we know of. Kylie, why are you only in your panties? Get something to cover yourself.” He shrugged out of his robe, wrapping it around my shoulders.

“Dad! Did he bloom? Has he shown any of the talents? Anything?”

“We don't know.”

“I need to see his room. I can detect changes. Which room is his?” I wondered why I'd remained silent for
so long.
Damn my stupidity!

“Come on, babygirl, this way,” Mom's hand on my forearm pulled me after her
and she ran to the next room over. She punched a few numbers into a keypad as everyone caught up.

The door opened and I smelled it. The spices, the release of power. Shuddering, I stepped into my son's room. Like a bloodhound after a scent trail, I moved around the room, hoping to find a clue. They'd painted the walls a light taupe, Riot's twin bed against a wall under a painting of horses. A dresser, a desk, and reading nook helped break the monotony. Several seating areas
distributed around using bean bags and large, circular rugs of dark colors, and a play area scattered with Hot Wheels and old school Tonka toys. In the center of the room lay a large maroon carpet, with a tan loveseat, two black beanbags, a coffee table and reading lamp. Instincts pushed me in that direction, and I sat. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the feel of power. I sensed Norse, Greek, Asian and Celtic.
Carman
. She'd know how to create a way to trace uses of power. What had Riot done to attract their attention? Mom stood at the door, blocking the others.

Strings appeared, tempting, flickering pretty colors. I couldn't see the past, but the residual woke the instinct.

My parents would remember nothing if he had used it. I let my chin rest in a hand. My son braided for a reason. Unlike me, he wouldn't use pieces of his soul as a battery. His status as a demi-god would crank out enough. He wasn't immortal, but did harbor the possibility from his father. At eight years old, he wouldn't know how to resist the instinct, would follow it easily. While I hadn't seen him in more than four years, my parents said Riot was far more mature than most boys his age. Meaning something must have threatened either his safety, or his grandparents. Possibly me.

I met the eyes of the Valkyries again. “I need Modi. He knows more than he wants to admit. Can one of you get him?”

“He will not leave Father's side at this time. He has to keep vigil, for Odin wants to use the child.”

“Do any of you know what went down? Why my son braided?”

A sea of frowns answered the question. I paced the floor, trying to find the answer hidden somewhere. Closer inspection showed books scattered under furniture, and scuffmarks on the floor. I expected it from a child's room, but it was different. It had the feel of a fight, and I found the evidence I needed.

The light glinted off something peeking from beneath Riot's bed. I picked it up, a golden arm circlet, with Greek lettering.
Artemis
. The engraving of a deer, bow and arrow gave her away. She'd kidnapped him. On hands and knees, I reached for several papers scattered under the bed. Newspapers from Nashville, a picture of me in a sloppy circle, question marks, and authorities asking anyone to come forward with clues as to my whereabouts.

“Tiamat!”

“Yes?” She gracefully crossed the space.

“What happens when two braiders try to change the same incident at the same time?”

“Legends say one will be trapped until the universe sorts it out.”

“I know what happened.” I needed to break things, to go back and make sure Riot never saw the article. How he'd known to look for me in Nashville was a mystery, but he
did have the brains of the immortals. “He tried to save me, suspending me in stasis. It isn't just a lost soul causing it, but two of us trying to change things at the same time.”

Tears shined on her eyelashes, black eyes sparking in gold starbursts. Tiamat understood.

“The lost days are my fault, but the lost months? My son followed his instincts, bloomed before puberty. It caused a clash, leaving me unable to move and him vulnerable to Carman's spells.”

With Dad's robe flowing behind me like a cape, I jogged to my room. Aki stood in the bathroom doorway, a towel around his waist, chest still gleaming from the shower, rubbing his long
hair with another towel. My libido kicked in for a moment, leaving me lost as to what I came back for. Parts of me warmed quickly to the thought of jumping him until reality brought the present into focus.

“Aki, Tiamat will catch you up on recent events. Move, I have to shower and get dressed. Suggest you do the same. Nice towel,” I quipped, shoving him out of the way and slamming the door in his puzzled face.

Chapter Twenty Eight

The shower gave me time to think of a haphazard plan. Drying, the smell of pomegranate soap filling the steamed bathroom, I realized how much I'd enjoyed being covered in Aki's scent. Claimed, in a way, and definitely a throwback in time. Shaking myself, forcing thoughts into the current situation, I dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, hair pulled into an octopus clip.

“Talk to me, Braider. What have you thought of?” Gunnr, one of the olde
st Valkyrie, stepped out of the shadows. She was five foot nine, lithe, toned, with peachy colored skin, and wore her long, dark red hair in haphazard braids, giving the impression of something wild and free.

“We need to find someone I can drain.”

Her spring leaf green eyes glinted, smile evil and calculating. “I know of an annoying god you can use. But what of your losses? As the Mesopotamian goddess says, even using others as a battery, you will lose yourself.”

“For my child, it is a worthy loss.”

“We,” she indicated the gathered Valkyrie, “will return shortly. Be prepared, the little bastard is a wiggly bugger.”

“What are you thinking?” Bru asked, watching her sisters disappear.

“If Carman can trace Riot, so can I.”

She hugged herself, one foot scuffing the floor in slow circles. “Don't have many choices, do we?”

“No.”

I walked into the main room, inhaling the scent of growing things, basking in the sunlight filtering from the opening three stories above us. The power lapped just below the surface, ready. I didn't know who Gunnr was bringing, but if the Valkyries found him to be
“wiggly”, it meant he was going to be hard to handle and I'd better be damn quick about it.

The smell of fire and ice overpowered the
green scent of plants, and I stood on the concrete dais in the middle of the silo. The sounds of fists hitting flesh, grunts of pain and struggle reached me before the actual figures of Valkyrie and kidnapped god.

Gunnr appeared with her arm around his neck, legs around his waist, while Pruor, Hildr and Skogul tried to wrestle the massive shape to the ground.

“For the love of Odin, Braider, come and get this bloody brute!” Pruor, hanging from Magdi's massive arms, yelled.

I jumped forward, slammed both hands on his chest and filled his empty form. He went still, eyes blank, the Valkyries releasing him slowly. “No
worries, dears, I got him.”

I slowly lowered my arms, feelin
g the invisible puppet strings between Magdi and my fingertips. Hard won emotions fell to the wayside, as the high of having such power over an immortal filled the empty space in my chest.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Pruor quipped.

“Concentrate on what you have to do, Kylie,” Tiamat, in dragon form, warned.

“But it feels so very good.” I laughed when Magdi moved in rhythm to my wagging fingers.

“Riot.”

She was right, remember what I truly wanted. Thinking of Amun, I repeated the actions, using a gentle suction.

I tasted Magdi, drank deeply. Let it fill the voids within my breast, ignoring its urgency to be used.

Magdi fell to his knees, and I nodded at Gunnr. “Prepared to return him?”

They surrounded him, lifting him to his feet, and indicated they were ready. With a quick flick of my hand, I severed the connection. The little group disappeared.

I turned to my audience, noting the expressions of worry a
nd fear. “No worries. Mom, lead me back to Riot's room. I have to follow the traces.”

The walk to my son's room took ages, as I shuffled through the maze of halls. Magdi's power laid heavily on my soul, trying to consume what little remained. With eyes on Mom's back, I concentrated on holding them apart. At Riot's door, I gently moved Mom and went inside.

Ribbons of bright colors flowed through the air, showing exactly what my son attempted. He'd seen the article, tried to braid to me in Nashville. He'd feared for me. Close to his trails of power ran small glinting symbols of Carman, Artemis, and Thor. In the corner, stood the outline of powerful horses. Anahita.

“Come out, Anahita. I can see you.” My voice echoed, having nothing to do with the size of Riot's room.

“No, Braider. You are full of power you do not know how to control.”

“Who says I am going to control it?”
Fake it ‘til you make it.
I didn't have much longer, I wasn't made to manage immortal power.

“I believe I shall stay in the shadows for now.”

“You will pay for what you have done, Anahita.”

“Maybe. But you will not be the one to exact revenge.”

The tenuous hold began to loosen, and I found the needed ribbon. Neon green, my hand over it, visualizing the trail as a rope to follow. Releasing my hold, the world blurred, electricity bit into my skin, dizziness made reality spin.

I landed on hard packed earth, barely able to straighten my arms and keep from falling face first into the vomit from landing. I stood, begging my legs to hold, trying to find my bearings.

The plane was barren of life, wind shearing the ground. The sky a dark, dirty gray, without stars, moon or sun to create light. I briefly wondered where the light came from, but dropped the thought after spotting the trail to Riot. Breaking into a jog, I followed. Three miles later, I found a boulder. On the other side, a small door appeared, without hardware.

I pushed lightly against it, feeling aged wood. It swung open, creaking on leather hinges. Falling to hands and knees, I crawled inside, jumping as the door slammed shut and disappeared.
Figures. Alice in Wonderland, here I come. Wonder who the Queen of Hearts will be?

The boulder reminded me of Doctor Who's Tardis, seemingly small outside, but a vast cavern inside. Candles were scattered throughout, giving a soft light. I searched the inner rock face, following shadows to another door a football field away. Breaking into a jog across the even, dirt floor, I braced for the inevitable dream sequence of never approaching the end.

Power continued to circle above my soul, foreign and heavy. Familiar heat flowed from my palms, neon bright threads of time obscuring my sight. I ran face first into a heavy oak door, unable to see properly in the oppressive shadows. Cursing, hands burning the wood and creating smoke, I found a leather handle. I needed five attempts to open the door, and a rush of cold, stale air blew my hair back. The tunnel was unlit, and I stood in the doorway, undecided. Before me, Riot's neon green ribbon created a creepy light through the passageway. Following closely, fighting the need to run headlong into the darkness, it wound through several turns, three doors and into another tunnel. Lights blazed past the door, temporarily blinding me. I waited for my eyes to adjust, found the ribbon again and jogged after it.

The new tunnel reminded me of underground bunkers, thick steel pipes near the ceiling, fluorescent lighting, wet floor and blast proof doors at various intervals. The ribbon ended with a swirl in front of one door. I carefully approached, laying a hand on the thick metal. I pulled on the handle, surprised when the door opened without great effort or noise.

The room was painted the same light taupe as Riot's room. The more I looked around, the more I realized it
was
Riot's room. The placement of the scattered books, scuff marks on the floor, the taste of power.

“You didn't think we would allow you to find him, did you?”

I whirled, betrayal screaming in my head as my heart broke. “What do you mean, Mom?” I choked out.

“I'm tired of the hiding, tired of being the normal person in the family. Riot is well hidden, thanks to Anahita
. She's promised his safety as long as you give yourself over to her.”

“Where is my son?” Anger replaced the heartbreak.

“Where you cannot get to him, no matter how many immortals you drain. I’d hoped you would take the Berserker, follow the old stories to their ending.” She moved to me, her arms beseeching me to hug her. “It's best, Kylie. Stop this, before you destroy us all. Take control of them if you want, but stop fighting the inevitable.” Her beautiful brown eyes, always so comforting over the years, were cold.

Roaring from the other side of Riot's door startled me, and I turned in response. Mom charged and we landed in a heap.

“Momma!” Riot's voice interrupted. I tried to find him, pushing Mom off as I scrambled to my feet. He was so tall, even for an eight-year-old boy, with his father's masculine beauty evident at a young age. I ran towards him, hoping to grab and run.

Anahita appeared behind Riot, a dagger to his throat, holding my son aloft. I stopped, frozen. Thoughts circled, trying to find options.

“Let my son go, Annie. I give, you can have me. Let him go.” The singular timeline shone brightly in my vision.
No, there had to be another way.

“Bond to me and I will.” Her beauty
was marred by the evil smile. I watched as she moved the knife to Riot's temple, slicing his face open in an agonizing slow motion. My heart stopped.

“No! Damn it, no!” I reached for Riot, releasing the last of Magdi's power at her. It hit her hard, and she flew into the back wall as Riot fell in a heap, crying.

I skidded to my son, panic flaring so bright I was unable to see past his injury. “I'm sorry, Moppet, I'm so sorry,” I repeated the words over and over. His blood on my hands, figuratively and literally, almost drove me insane in a way the loss of soul never would.

In the background, the sounds of fighting, screaming and roaring filled the air. I concentrated on Riot, whipping off my shirt to put to his wounds. I held him to my chest, rocking, wondering what to do next. He was an innocent, my child.
Deserved all I had to give, including my life. I could prevent it all.