Realizing he’s waiting for a response, I pry my eyes away from the sleeping girl and turn to look at him. “No,” I tell him after a moment’s thought. “Karma must not know the truth. At least, not yet.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” he asks, and I can sense the skepticism in his tone.
I nod grimly. “Karma must not know the truth,” I explain. “She must not know that it was me who saved her from the prison. No one must know.”
“She’ll find out one way or another,” he says, shifting his weight as he returns his gaze to the sleeping Karma. “Why not deal with it now?
“Because I want to see who she is first,” I reply. “We need to know the full extent of her abilities, and her… malleability. If she is more a Kismet than anything else, there is no point in keeping her alive.” I pull my gaze away from her, taking a step back. “If she can’t learn to embrace her true power, then she is nothing to us. The only way we will know for certain will be to wait… and observe.”
My companion nods slowly, and although he doesn’t seem completely convinced, he wisely doesn’t make his resistance obvious. “Of course,” he replies. I turn and begin to walk away, ready to prepare the next step in my plan. It’s the next sentence out of his mouth that causes me to stop dead in my tracks, my eyes going wide and my body going rigid from head to toe. “If she takes our family traits, though,” he says slowly, deliberately, “then she might be able to kill us. You must know that.”
“Then find a way to make sure she can’t,” I tell her, straightening up and not turning around. “Break her, if that’s what it takes, or find me someone that can.” I pull my hood up as I carry on walking, leaving my family alone to do what they do best: destroy every part of Karma Kismet’s soul. I must admit that it will be a little disappointing to see the fire in her eyes go out - she had such tenacity, such drive… but this is our chance to mold her into the weapon that we need, and I am prepared to do whatever it takes to make that happen.
Until then, though, I have a world to destroy and a new order to establish. We’ve been slumbering on our potential for far too long, and this girl is the key. But there is much work to be done, and I don’t have time to wait for the changes to begin. As I walk, I finger the girl’s charm necklace in my pocket before pulling it out and glancing down at it. It’s almost cute - innocent and naive, a remnant of a life she’s never going to see again. I squeeze it in my hand, so tightly that the little metal medallions dig into my palm. There’s only one charm on this necklace that matters. I open my hand to stare down at it now, lifting it and watching as it gleams under the pale moonlight. It’s time the world knew about the gods who truly rule it…
Chapter 32
The first thing I become aware of, aside from the splitting pain in my head, is that something cold is brushing against my cheek. It feels like concrete or stone, and I realize through my spinning head that I’m lying on the ground. A cool breeze tickles my cheek and sweeps a few strands of hair out of my face, and I for a moment I think I must be hallucinating when I hear the sounds of gently rustling leaves in the distance. But no, it’s not a hallucination; another breeze rushes over me, and I become aware of other sounds, too… Night sounds. Outdoorsy sounds.
Am I outside? I wonder, and the concept feels almost foreign to me. My whole body feels like it’s being weighed down by something, and the pain of even shifting a little against the cold ground is enough to surge through my muscles at the slightest movement. I let out a weak groan, allowing my eyes to flutter open, and the sight before me is nearly enough to make me cry: above me is the endless night sky, an infinite expanse of darkness the color of ink. The clouds are backlit by bright moonlight, and there are stars all around me; I don’t think I’ve ever really appreciated seeing the stars until this moment. It’s so beautiful, and I instantly remember how much I really missed this. The days and nights in the prison had begun to bleed together after a while, and with next to no way to see outside or know how much time had passed, I had started to feel like I was trapped in some sort of infinite nightmare. Granted, I’d made friends in there - and maybe even a little more - but that didn’t change what it was at the end of the day: a prison. A cage. And now I’m free, back under the night sky.
I could stare at that night sky for hours, counting every little star and wishing I could remember them all forever. Though it used to bring me peace, the night sky is now a cold reminder of the past, of everything that happened to get me to this moment. I feel an incredible surge of sadness as the events of the past few days come rushing back to me like a tidal wave: the higher god I killed. The twin gods of justice coming after me and throwing me in prison. The mysterious cloaked figures who put them in jail alongside me. Storm, with his mysterious test and gorgeous eyes, his tragic past and his cottage and the kiss that we shared. And then there’s Jade… poor Jade. A tear leaks out of my eye in spite of my best efforts to stay strong, and I find myself missing my family more in this moment than I ever have before.
Come on, Karma, I tell myself, closing my eyes and willing myself to take a deep breath, you have to stay focused. Your job isn’t finished yet. There’s a moment’s pause, and then the voice in my head adds, What would Peyton do?
I can practically hear him giving me a pep talk already, and it’s motivation enough to open my eyes again and face the bitter memories that the night sky provokes.
My gods, my family, and my best friend need me. I’ve lost plenty, but there’s plenty that I need to protect. I can’t lie here and give up. I’m a Kismet, and we don’t give up.
Every little inch of my body hurts as I try to sit up, forcing myself to be strong. It feels like I’ve fallen down a mountain, or had the shit beaten out of me by a group of giants. My muscles are on fire, and even just moving my head a little is enough to send a pulse of pain up my neck and through my skull. I probably have a concussion, at the very least, if not a bruised skull, and I would honestly be surprised if all my bones were intact. But that doesn’t matter, and we gods are built sturdier than most; my wounds will heal in time, but I can’t afford to dilly-dally when other lives might be on the line.
I give a grunt of effort, pushing past the pain long enough to first sit up, and then slowly get to my feet. For a moment the blood rushes out of my head and I sway on my feet, the world spinning around me. I grit my teeth and will myself not to pass out, focusing on my breathing until the world comes back into focus. I straighten up and allow myself a look around at the courtyard I now find myself in the middle of. It seems like the ruins of some ancient building, with parts of the walls broken and fallen down. The pieces are huge, and I can only wonder at what this might once have been before it was abandoned and destroyed. Nature has taken some of it, covering it with vines, and I can even see flowers growing out of a few of the cracks in the stones beneath my feet. The air is cool as it blows against my skin and pushes my dress around my legs, but as I look down, I see blood spattering the hem. Slowly, I raise my hands, and they begin to shake as I realize that there’s blood on them, too.
I suddenly feel like I’m going to be sick, and not from the pain, but from the grief, which is striking me again in spite of my determination.
Jade is dead. She sacrificed her life to save the justice twins, and I couldn’t save her. The twins might be dead, too, for all I know. I never saw them get up, and the idea that they might have been killed too strikes fear into my heart. Jade sacrificed herself to save them, and if that sacrifice was for nothing…
Come on, Karma, I tell myself, don’t think like that.
But it’s no use. Jade’s dead body just keeps flickering in my mind like a nasty picture that’s impossible to get rid of. Even if the twins aren’t dead, they are still trapped in that prison while I am stuck out here. What if I never see them again? What if they spend the rest of their lives rotting in there, and it’s all because of me?
The sound of a voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I’m nearly startled enough to jump out of my skin. “Are you going to play nice this time, little mouse?” the voice asks from behind me, and for a brief moment I’m reminded of the creepy murderer in a horror movie - you know, who tells the victim not to run. I never did understand the victims’ logic in those movies, though. You never run if you hear that voice. It’s best to hide. I quickly turn around, my eyes settling on the hooded figure who is standing very still in the courtyard. He’s some distance away from me, but even without any distinguishing features, I can tell that this is the same arsehole who killed Jade. I can’t put my finger on why, but I just know it. For all I know, he could have possibly killed the justice twins too before he knocked me out.
Rage begins to fill me, burning like fire, and when I look down at my hands, I see a familiar green lightning beginning to flicker out of them. I turn my hands around, entranced for a moment by how the lightning moves like a wave but doesn’t seem to hurt me. I have no feckin’ idea how to control it, but it might be the only thing to help me get out of this. My karma powers aren’t exactly the best for self-defense, and whatever this lightning is, it was powerful enough to take out a higher god, so it will have to do for this son of a bitch. All I need to do is find my family and disappear. After that, I can make a plan to get Storm and the twins out of prison somehow. Maybe I can use my necklace of charms, too.
“That would be a massive nope, you feckin’ gobshite!” I starkly reply, crossing my arms and feeling for my charms with one hand. It only takes a minute of fumbling to realize that they’re missing. Dammit. Plan B it is, then. Except I don’t have a plan B, and I didn’t really have a solid plan A to start with. I still have that cool lightning, but I remember this guy was too quick at throwing that back at me, so I can’t count on it working on him at all. I take a step back, digging my feet into the dirt as the wind blows my hair into my face. I knock it away, really wishing I had a hair tie right now. I want to keep my eye on this guy. I don’t know who he is or what he wants, but it’s obvious from our interactions so far that he isn’t on my side.
“That kind of language does not suit your heritage, and it will not be allowed in my presence without punishment,” the man says, seeming to revel in his own smugness. If I were any closer (and I had any chance of holding my own against this guy), I would sock him in the mouth. “Now—”
I stop listening to him, deciding in a split second that running away is looking like my best chance of survival. If you can’t fight it, run. That’s what my brother always told me, and it’s always my solid plan C.
Plan C, don’t fail me now, I think.
I turn and run straight towards the ruined part of the building nearest to me, noticing that there’s a gap in the middle of it that should lead to the other side of the building, and the forest beyond. I’m halfway there when I skid to a stop, frozen in place when I see two women walking out of the gap. They’re standing side by side, their movements almost perfectly in sync with one another. I know who they are, and it’s that knowledge that stops me in my tracks. I nearly trip over myself, dirt puffing up like a cloud around my feet as I stare at them with wide eyes. My heart is beating so loudly that it makes my ears ring as I watch these higher gods, the female twins that Storm told me about.
They look just like they did in the painting he showed me. They wear matching red cloaks with red dresses under them by the look of it. Their skin is pale but in a smooth, picture-perfect way, almost photoshopped, if I didn’t know better. They have thick black eyelashes, white eyes with tints of black in them, and ruby red lips. The only thing that is different about them is their hair. One has long black hair, and the other’s hair is as white as snow.
“Ah, sisters, you took your time,” the hooded man says, passing by me like I’m nothing and stopping in the middle of the twins. They look to him, and for a second, the black haired god looks my way and smiles. If I didn’t think she looked inhuman before, I’m in for a shock: her teeth are razor sharp, stained with blood, like a shark’s.
I gulp because that is feckin’ creepy, and it takes everything I have not to shrivel up under her intense white gaze like a little girl at her first haunted house. Maybe I should just focus on the guy instead. He is clearly the boss man, anyway, and less disgusting to look at. His black cloak is such a contrast to the red ones his sisters wear, and I can see now why everyone is frightened of them. Even when they don’t say a word, there is something about them that is downright terrifying. The power seems to vibrate off of them in waves, an intense, ancient magic that I can tell would be enough to make me do whatever they want. This is what it’s like to stand in the presence of higher gods, and I realize with a start that I’m trembling, and not because of the cold night air.
I know this man is going to kill me; why else would I be here? I accidentally killed his brother, and now I’m going to pay for it. I avoided it for a while, but sooner or later it was going to come for me; it was only a matter of time. I just wish I got the chance to say goodbye to Storm and the twins, to Jade as well. I wish I got to say goodbye to my family and Mads while I’m at it. Maybe even Michael, but perhaps not Kit. Gods know I would probably get bitten for that. I’m sure the poor fecker is starving by now and biting Storm. That thought makes me smile, and reignites the boldness in me that’s gotten me in and out of countless scrapes in my lifetime.
“It was an accident, you know that?” I say, tipping up my head and putting on what I hope is a defiant stare. There’s probably no point in reasoning with these guys, but what the hell. I might as well try to talk my way out of this - it’s not like I have anything to lose at this point.
“What was?” the man asks, tilting his head to the side.
“Killing your brother,” I answer, crossing my arms. In spite of my blustering, the nervousness is taking hold of me, and it’s all I can do to keep from visibly shaking.
The last higher god watches me for a long time, and for several moments there is no sound except the wind in the trees. Finally, he gives me a slow, knowing nod, and lowers his hood so I can get a good look at him. I don’t know what I expected to see, but whatever it was, it wasn’t this. Red hair, red eyes, and man, is he creepier than even Storm described him as. It’s more than the pale skin and red eyes (although, let’s be real - those certainly don’t help). It’s more like a feeling that he radiates. I can sense something is very feckin’ wrong with him somehow, like just being in his presence is making me sick. He looks just like his brother I killed, but there is a cut on his eyebrow that stands out, mainly because it looks like a horn shape. If I drew two ball shapes at the end, it would look a lot like something else, and that is not a shape you want on your forehead. That thought is almost enough to make me laugh, but not quite.
“I know you didn’t mean to kill your father on purpose,” he says, his voice overly-patient all of a sudden. “That isn’t in your nature, from what your family and friend have told me,” he adds, and so much about that one statement makes me step back, my hands dropping down. They’ve spoken to my family. They’ve spoken to Mads. Could they be here right now? Have they been imprisoned by these bastards? If so, that puts them in just as much danger as I am.
It’s only after a few seconds that the significance of his statement fully hits me. Did he just say the dude I killed was my father? What crap is this higher god snorting?
“I think you have the wrong person. He wasn’t my father,” I tell him, lifting my head and locking my eyes on his. The red is so much darker when you really look into his eyes. It’s endless, like a sea of blood. I imagine he has spilt enough blood in his lifetime that he could easily fill a sea. The higher gods aren’t as all powerful and knowing as they think they are; instead, they are cruel, and they are monsters that happen to rule. I wish Storm was out here with me. He could put them in their place.
