The Last Guardian of Tara (The Guardians of Tara Book 5) Page 3

  “They’d better be,” Cameron mumbled.

  “Dad, it’s Hel. What do you think is going to happen in Hel?”

  “Well, hopefully, you won’t have to fight an enormous serpent in the River Gjöll, or annoy the goddess who reigns over that realm to the point that she threatens to imprison you forever.”

  Hanna pressed her lips together for a moment as she fought the urge to laugh at him then, as seriously as she could, told him, “I just can’t see that happening. It must have been an off day for her.”

  “I know, right?”

  “Cameron,” Selena sighed. “Nippur. Prometheus, thank you. And Hanna, please hurry. If we actually find this invisible fortress, we’ll need you back as soon as possible.”

  “I promise, Mom.” Hanna smiled shyly at the Titan god who still made her feel like a giddy teenager and asked, “So… ready to go to Hel?”

  And Prometheus smiled shyly back at her and said, “I’ve already survived Tartarus. There’s nothing in Hel that could compare.”

  “He’s so going to regret saying that,” Cameron muttered.

  But Hanna didn’t stick around to find out if her mother agreed with him. She brought Prometheus to the edge of Hel’s realm where the River Gjöll, with its dark waters of nightmares rushing past them, awaited their attempt to cross.

  Prometheus walked to the edge of the river and peered into it then glanced over his shoulder at her. “What was your father saying about a giant snake?”

  “Um… I have to be honest. I inherited his deep and unwavering hatred of snakes, giant or regular-sized. If there’s one in there, I’m outta here.”

  “I’m pretty sure anything we’re afraid of can manifest from this river, so if we get attacked by a huge eagle, don’t judge me, okay?”

  “Eagle?” Hanna asked then remembered the story of Zeus’s demented punishment of the Titan. “Please tell me you weren’t ever chained to a mountain where an eagle ate your liver everyday.”

  “No, of course not. I’m pretty sure that would kill any god. I just don’t like eagles.”

  “I’d ask why, but I guess it makes as much sense as hating snakes for being snakes.”

  Prometheus shrugged then nodded toward the golden bridge. “Think Modgud will let us pass now that Hel no longer hates everyone?”

  “Don’t know. I thought the whole arrangement was that we’d all leave each other alone, yet here we are.”

  Modgud grunted at them and exclaimed, “You’re just like your father, Daughter of Danu.”

  Hanna put her hands on her hips and called back, “You say that like it’s a bad thing. My father got past your river, into Hel’s palace, and broke out with two of her prisoners. Are you really going to make me prove I can do the same?”

  “Please don’t ask that,” Prometheus groaned.

  “Hey, you’re the one who said Hel couldn’t possibly be as bad as Tartarus.”

  Prometheus glanced into the river again and murmured, “I’m reconsidering.”

  “Your family,” Modgud said, “has made such a mess of our world. First, he comes with a Norse god, and now, you’re here with a Titan. Is there nothing you Irish won’t leave alone?”

  “Is there something wrong with settling old rivalries and becoming friends?” Hanna asked.

  “There is everything wrong with it!” Modgud yelled. “You young gods have no right to undo what we’ve created.”

  “I’m no expert, but this seems like really bizarre logic,” Prometheus whispered to Hanna. “We made the old rules, so only we can change them, but we don’t want to even though some of us obviously do since the rules have changed.”

  “I’m not entirely sure I followed all of that,” Hanna admitted.

  “Me either,” Prometheus also admitted.

  “Modgud,” a goddess called from the other bank. “Let my visitors pass.”

  Hanna studied the other goddess with raven black hair and ivory skin, a handsome god by her side who watched Modgud carefully, perhaps to see if she’d continue to cause trouble for Hel’s visitors. She noticed Hel was barefoot and wondered if the goddess ever wore shoes because even after all these years, she still relished the sensation of grass and water and stones beneath her feet.

  Modgud stepped aside and gritted her teeth but waved Hanna and Prometheus on, and they crossed the golden bridge, but both gods occasionally glanced at the river to make sure giant serpents or eagles wouldn’t attack them. When they reached the other side safely, Hel looked Hanna over quickly then offered her a small smile. “The daughter of Cameron and Selena, the Last Guardian of Tara. What are you doing here, Child?”

  “I need a favor,” Hanna said. “Not because my mother gave you a second chance at life, but simply because we need your help. I’m not a fan of gods believing they’re indebted because someone did the right thing.”

  Hel glanced at the handsome god standing beside her who laughed and told her, “You already know what I’ll say. But let’s hear what they need first.”

  “Your enchanted dungeon,” Hanna explained. “Enlil and Nergal have begun to make plans to reclaim their kingdom on Earth, and our own glass castle is in Murias. With our best warriors helping me find Enlil and his followers, I can’t endanger my family by imprisoning the gods we have to question there.”

  “But it’s enchanted,” Hel said. “How could they possibly escape and threaten anyone?”

  Hanna hadn’t been born yet when Ailill freed Odin, but she’d heard the story so many times, she felt as if she’d been there. And she nor any of their family or friends had forgotten the Guardians had only found two of the Tuatha Dé’s traitors. Cian, a young Irish god who’d been tasked with protecting the remnants of Ireland’s pagan past, was certain three Irish gods had attacked him, which meant the third traitor was still out there and probably even living in Murias.

  After explaining their situation to Hel, the Norse goddess glanced up at the god next to her again, fidgeting with the sleeves on her dress as she attempted to figure out the right answer on her own. Hanna could see now what her mother must have when she’d decided to save her—Hel struggled with seeing differences in decisions and actions, not always able to tell right from wrong, but she wanted to be better, to be good, to be the kind of goddess who didn’t need someone else to serve as her conscience. But the fact that Baldr stood beside her and filled that role affirmed just how committed Hel was to becoming the goddess Selena had foreseen.

  Baldr ran his fingers through his hair as he thought about Hanna’s proposal. “I trust you and your parents aren’t being unnecessarily cruel to these gods we’d be holding for you.”

  “No,” Hanna promised him. “We would never torture anyone. But if I have to, I will turn them into mortals. I still need—”

  “Holy shit,” Baldr interrupted. “You can do that?”

  “You’re already dead, so you’re probably safe,” Hel offered.

  “But you’re not,” he told her.

  Hanna sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m not here to threaten either of you. I honestly just need a place to keep some prisoners until we’ve defeated Enlil, and then we’ll set them free, whether they’re basically human or still gods.”

  Hel glanced up at Baldr for the third time, awaiting his decision. He bit his lip as he thought about it, but finally smiled at the young goddess and stood up straighter. “All right. I assume my brother is helping you, and he seemed to trust your father a great deal.”

  “He does. And my dad only gets him in trouble with Sif occasionally.”

  “I probably don’t want to know,” Baldr said.

  Prometheus nodded. “Good call.”

  Hel tipped her head to one side and asked Hanna, “You didn’t have to travel here, did you? Even your father had to travel through the dark valleys to get here.”

  “Oh,” Hanna exclaimed, “I almost forgot.” She reached into her pocket and produced a blue stone from the stream in Murias, just like the one Goibniu had used to carve the gemstone
for the ring she always wore. Hanna placed the stone in Hel’s open hand and explained, “My dad told me how much you liked the red one he once gave you. It’s not payment. Just a gift. And no, I didn’t have to travel here. But the same thing goes for me as for my dad: don’t ask how I do things. I’ll never know.”

  Hel smiled at the sapphire-like stone in her palm and turned it over, admiring its perfection. She finally looked up to tell Hanna something, probably just a thanks for the gift, but Hanna grabbed Prometheus’s arm and Hel disappeared, replaced by the blistering heat of an Iraqi summer. Her family and friends had split up to look for Enlil’s invisible fortress, but she already had an idea as to how she and Prometheus would find it.

  Chapter Four

  Prometheus squinted from the bright sunlight that seemed to be assaulting them from everywhere and asked her, “You’re part sun goddess, right? Can’t you do something about the sun?”

  “Like what?” Hanna retorted. “Blow it out?”

  Prometheus blinked at her then shook his head. “You are just like your father.”

  “Still not a bad thing.”

  The Titan just smiled and reached into a shirt pocket, pulling out a pair of sunglasses that hadn’t been there moments before.

  “But yeah,” she joked. “Controlling the sun seemed like a much better alternative than just putting on sunglasses.”

  Prometheus nodded and gestured into the pit of the archaeological excavation they were standing beside. “Don’t think this is his fortress. Not his current one, anyway. And shouldn’t we go back for Nabu?”

  “Already took care of it,” Hanna answered.

  Prometheus gaped at her, so she shrugged. “I didn’t think it was necessary to hand deliver him. And no, I don’t think this is where Enlil rebuilt his fortress, because he’d want to be careful around the ruins of his old temples.”

  “That’s what I said!” Cameron exclaimed as he appeared beside his daughter.

  “Guessing you haven’t found anything,” Hanna said.

  Cameron shook his head and waved a hand at the arid ground. “Sand. I found lots of sand.”

  “Helpful, Dad.”

  Cameron smiled at her and said, “That’s why we have you… to be our supernatural metal detector.”

  “I don’t even know what to say to that,” Hanna admitted.

  “Not sure there is anything you can say to that,” Selena said.

  “Fortress,” Prometheus reminded them.

  “Find any giant snakes in Hel?” Cameron asked him.

  “No. It was actually a pretty anti-climactic trip compared to your journey.”

  “Figures,” Cameron said. “I’m always the one who has to fight the giant snakes.”

  “Dad,” Hanna sighed, “you know how much I love you, but if you don’t shut up, I’ll send you to Ellesmere Island.”

  “I’ll come right back,” Cameron told her. “And probably still won’t shut up.”

  “It’s worth a shot,” Prometheus offered.

  “I’m really regretting getting you out of Tartarus.”

  “Does anybody want to hear my idea as to how we’ll find the invisible fortress?” Hanna asked.

  “Yes,” Selena answered quickly, shooting both Cameron and Prometheus a pointed look that dared them to speak again, but neither god was stupid.

  “It’s invisible, but it exists in this world, which means it’s tangible. I’m going to create a sandstorm, and we’ll see the sand behaving strangely as it hits an invisible barrier.”

  “And where will we be during this sandstorm?” Cameron asked. “Only the Mórrígna can fly.”

  “Behind it,” Hanna explained. “We’ll spread out, but if Nabu was telling the truth, that fortress is close. We’re standing by the ruins of Enlil’s temple, so I suspect he wanted to build his new kingdom on Earth next to his old one.”

  “You get your genius from your mother,” Badb interjected, appearing next to Prometheus, but she grinned in Cameron’s direction, who just nodded in agreement with her.

  “Don’t provoke him,” Hanna begged.

  “All right,” Badb agreed, “but only because it’s your birthday. And are we going off Earth time or Otherworld time, because I’d like to know when I can start pissing him off again.”

  “You already are,” Cameron told her. “So I don’t think it matters.”

  Selena groaned and rubbed her forehead. “Maybe you should send them both to Ellesmere Island.”

  “Hey,” Cameron protested. “You’re supposed to take my side. It’s part of the marriage contract.”

  “No, my unending love and loyalty are. Nowhere in our vows did I promise never to banish you to a frozen island with one of my best friends because you’re both being a pain in the ass.”

  Badb laughed and held up her hands. “Okay, temporary truce. Hanna, I can fly above your sandstorm to make sure we don’t miss anything. So can my sisters. Multiple perspectives might be helpful.”

  “Grab them and let’s give it a shot,” Hanna said. “Otherwise, we’ll be out here until the next Ragnarok.”

  Macha and Nemain appeared beside their sister, who briefly explained Hanna’s idea to find the invisible fortress, then all three goddesses transformed into the sleek, black crows that had once struck fear into the hearts of mortals as they clashed in battle. Even if Hanna couldn’t sense the goddesses’ natures, she would have recognized Badb by her distinct battle cry, and as she cawed loudly from the sky to let her know they were ready, Hanna stirred the sand in front of them. It swirled in angry tornadoes before exploding forward. The Mórrígna followed the path of the sand, and the Guardians who remained on the ground walked behind it.

  After half an hour of searching through the sweltering heat of the Iraqi landscape without finding any structure they couldn’t see, Hanna began to get nervous… and terribly embarrassed. She lied to herself by saying she didn’t want to let her family and friends down, but truthfully, she knew it was because she’d wanted to impress one particular god. Occasionally, she’d glance in his direction, but Prometheus seemed completely focused on studying the patterns of the sand.

  Hanna bit her lip and continued on, but she suspected the warmth in her cheeks wasn’t from the sun.

  A beautiful black crow unexpectedly swooped from the sky and as it neared the ground, it lengthened and stretched, and Badb’s feet landed softly next to Hanna. She pointed to their east and said, “Something’s over there. The sand is shooting upward like it’s hitting something, but I can’t see anything. It’s possible there’s just too much sand for me to see through, but we should check it out.”

  Hanna exhaled quickly, a breath of relief that perhaps she hadn’t just wasted everyone’s time, and let the sand fall back to the Earth. Badb pointed again to a seemingly empty spot before them. “Yep. That’s where the sand began to act strangely. It’s gotta be the invisible fortress, but I guess we need to figure out how to get inside now.”

  “Do we?” Cameron asked. “Maybe if we just stand outside, we can draw Enlil and his army out.”

  “If I were Enlil,” Badb argued, “I wouldn’t leave a fortress to confront a group of gods who are far more powerful. He’s in a defensible position, and he’d be crazy to abandon it.”

  “And we’d be crazy to walk into it,” Cameron retorted.

  “Maybe,” Athena agreed. “The only other option I can think of is to flush them out. Set the fortress on fire.”

  Cameron thought about it then lifted a shoulder. “That could work.”

  “That could also let the gods escape,” Badb protested. “It’ll kill the mortals while Enlil and Nergal take off.”

  “There’s no point in confronting either of them until we find those vessels,” Hanna pointed out. “I don’t want any humans to die, but if Mom and I can save them, we will then we’ll keep them interred in Hel until this is over.”

  Badb groaned and squinted toward the seemingly vacant land where everyone suspected Enlil’s fortress was. “
All right,” she relented. “Once it’s cleared out, we’ll need to dig through all the rubble to make sure there are no vessels here though.”

  “I’ve decided my second least favorite thing to do is digging for pervy soul vessels,” Cameron announced.

  Hanna blinked at him then asked, “And we needed to know that, why?”

  Cameron shrugged, but Selena stopped him before he could respond. “You seriously think digging for soul vessels is worse than kamikaze hummingbirds?”

  “Oh, I definitely hated the kamikaze hummingbirds,” Thor added helpfully.

  “Think Enlil has any kind of animal army?” Cameron asked.

  Badb grimaced and said, “It’s possible he’s commanding whatever scorpion men survived our last big showdown with the Sumerians.”

  “Scorpion men,” Cameron repeated. He seemed to think about that for a few seconds then shook his head. “Okay, I lied. There is something almost as bad as giant snakes.”

  Thor grimaced, too, and added, “God, I hope he doesn’t have any of those.” He pointed a thick finger in Cameron’s direction and clarified, “I’m clearly invoking Enlil, so don’t ask.”

  “Then specify and I won’t have to ask,” Cameron responded.

  “I still don’t understand how this group of gods manages to accomplish as much as it does,” Prometheus said.

  “It really is a cosmic mystery,” Hanna agreed.

  “How did you kill the scorpion men before?” Thor asked Badb.

  “We didn’t,” she told him. “We killed An, and the scorpion men just vanished.”

  “Great,” London mumbled. “We really are about to fight a bunch of mutant arachnids, aren’t we?”

  As if to answer her question, the ground shook like an earthquake had struck the site of the ancient city, and the Guardians grabbed onto one another to stay upright. Athena groaned and shook her head. “That’s the scorpion men, the same ones who destroyed Olympus.”

  “And Lugh was there, so I’m guessing I can’t burn them,” Cameron said as the ground shook again.