“I’m sorry,” I begin. “We were just on a short walk—”
Mum waves me off. “It’s not that. It’s Kit.”
My stomach drops, and my grip on Killian’s hand tightens. “What…what happened?” This is it, I think.
Mum gives me an unreadable look, and then says, “I think you’d better go up and see for yourself.”
Swallowing hard, I nod, the guys accompanying me upstairs and into my room. The sight I’m met with is almost unbelievable: instead of lying comatose in his box, Kit is now standing on my bed, and he’s huge. He’s close to the size of a child, his starry eyes bigger and more perceptive than ever. He seems to have fashioned a tunic for himself using my bedsheets, and he smiles when he sees me, rows upon rows of sharp teeth. “Kit?” I say wonderingly, taking a tentative step towards him. “Is that you?” As if in response, he takes hold of my hand and gives it a gentle bite. I start to laugh, half-amused and half-relieved, and the guys are probably looking at me like I’ve gone insane. “What the hell happened?” I ask, touching the goblin’s shoulder.
“It looks like he’s transformed into a full adult,” Storm replies. “I’m willing to bet his teleporting abilities are stronger than ever.”
“Well,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and smiling for the first time in what feels like forever, “it’s about time we caught a break.”
Chapter 68
I’m not sure if I’m ever going to get used to seeing Kit as a big child instead of a tiny little creature. Every time I look at him, I’m expecting that tiny goblin I found in the yard, so small he fit in the palm of my hand, but instead, he’s like an entirely new creature.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a fully-grown goblin,” Killian remarks as we step out onto the front porch. “He’s bigger than I was expecting.”
“You’re telling me,” I reply. “I used to worry about him breaking the skin when he bit me. Now I have to worry about him taking a whole damn finger off.” My tone is lighthearted, but it’s all for show, and Killian knows it too; we’re about to throw ourselves into the eye of the storm, and it’s all any of us can do to pretend things are going to be okay. Maybe if we want it badly enough, it will happen.
“Do you have everything?” Storm, ever the practical one, asks as he comes to a stop beside me.
“I think so,” I reply. “Not much, but I figure what really matters is my magic, anyway.”
“Fair enough, little one,” Storm says, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a half-smile.
“We’d better go,” Seth says, shifting nervously from foot to foot. I don’t blame him. If I think too hard about what’s about to happen, I feel like I might faint. Even the magic inside me feels restless, like a powerful force that’s struggling to get out, waiting for something big to happen.
“The other gods,” Killian says, turning to his brother. “Are they there already? The ones on our side?”
Seth gives him a curt nod. “What ones I was able to convince, yeah. They’re scared, I think. This whole thing is unprecedented.” He shakes his head grimly. “I don’t know what it’s like in London, but they’re saying it’s gotten bad.”
“Gee, there’s some good news,” Killian mutters.
“If you want good news, I’m not the guy to be asking,” Seth retorts dryly before his expression turns serious again. “We’re going to be outnumbered. Most of the gods have taken Neritous’s side—probably just trying to save their own skins. Either way, it’s not going to be pretty.”
“I didn’t think it would be,” I say in a low voice before rolling my shoulders back and straightening up. “Well, might as well get this over with, then.”
“We’re with you,” Killian tells me.
“All of us,” adds Mads, crossing her arms over her chest. I can see the fear in her eyes, but her face is set with determination, and I’ve never been prouder of my friend than I am right now. I know Pey is worried for her, and I told her she didn’t have to come if she didn’t want to, but she was having none of it. She’s going to finish this thing by my side, whatever the outcome.
“Right,” I say, turning to Kit. “If you could do the honours, please, Kit.”
The goblin stares at me for a moment before extending his arms, his night sky eyes closing, and the difference is immediately evident: he doesn’t struggle at all to summon the portal, his gestures practised and self-assured, and when the tear appears in the universe, it expands into a portal at incredible speed. It’s like he’s barely breaking a sweat, I think wonderingly. What else is he capable of now that he’s an adult?
I don’t have time to wonder for very long, as Storm and Seth are already stepping through the portal and disappearing. Killian gives me a curt nod before following them, and Mads meets my eyes for a long moment before bringing up the rear. I’m left on the front stoop with my goblin, but I hesitate, stealing a glance over my shoulder and in through the living room window. I can see mum, dad, Pey, and Damien inside, and they’re watching me, mum and dad holding hands while Pey and Damien each give me a solemn wave. We’ve already said our goodbyes, and I know that going in for another one would be too painful, but I can’t help but raise my hand to them in a final farewell gesture, my eyes meeting mum’s and holding there. She gives me a small smile and nods, and I know exactly what she’s thinking: Don’t let the world turn you cold.
And I’m not going to.
Turning back around, I take Kit by the hand. He seems to understand what’s happening, and moves willingly alongside me as we walk up to the dark hole in time and space. I swallow, closing my eyes…and then we step through the portal.
For a minute I’m disoriented, and not only because teleportation has the tendency to give me major vertigo. My first reaction is to wonder if Kit made a mistake, because there’s no way this is London—it just can’t be possible. But a glance in front of me as the portal closes shows the guys and Mads, all looking around with that same expression of disbelief, and I realise with a sinking feeling that it is possible. We’re living it right now.
Over on the water, I can see Big Ben, or at least, what remains of it. The iconic clock tower has been split in half, the upper part in shambles over the collapsed roof of the Palace of Westminster. It’s been torn apart, enormous tree trunks splitting through the old stone and giving the whole thing a post-apocalyptic look. Indeed, the rest of the city doesn’t look much better; I glance around with dismay at icons and landmarks I remember from my childhood trips here, the city in ruins all around us. It was one thing to see it happening from above, like in San Francisco, but it’s another to be standing in the midst of it, like living in the middle of a natural disaster.
There’s nothing natural about this, though.
For a moment we’re all silent. “You said it was bad,” Killian murmurs to Seth at last. “I wasn’t expecting this bad.”
“It was always going to be like this,” Seth replies glumly. “Ever since Neritous got the life powers. And he’s not going to stop.”
“Then we’re going to be the ones to make him,” Mads states. “And from the sounds of it, we’re not alone.”
We fall silent again, and my eyes go wide when I pick up on the noises of chaos coming from the city centre. It sounds like a battlefield, complete with explosions, toppling buildings, and the occasional scream of triumph or anguish. Above the skyline, bursts of magic of all kinds explode up into the air, lighting the world up in bright colours as the gods duke it out with one another. “Sounds like that’s where we need to go,” I remark.
“Let’s get to it, then,” says Seth.
The rest of us don’t need telling twice, and together we begin to make our way down the abandoned London street. It’s strange seeing it like this, choked with plants and animals, like the wilderness is reclaiming the city. Most of the humans seem to have disappeared from this area, and I can only hope they made it out safely, although I know better than to be too optimistic.
As if in confirmation, a horrible groaning noise starts up the moment we pass the first intersection. Brow furrowing, I glance in the direction it’s coming from, what seems to be an alleyway branching off one of the side streets. “What…?” I begin, stepping forward, but Storm holds out a protective arm to stop me.
“Hold on,” he murmurs. “Might not be on our side.”
There’s a pause, and then it comes again: a moaning, agonized, but distinctly human sound: the sound of a person in pain. “What if someone’s hurt?” I demand, sidestepping Storm to move forward. “We should at least…”
