Shadows Before the Sun

The waves rolled in and out. The wind whipped at our clothes and hair, bringing with it the salty, wet air.

“Did you bring us here or did Panopé?”

“The goddess,” he answered, staring at the destruction. “I have yet to master that power.”

I squeezed his hand. “You okay?” This was his home, his people, his history . . .

He gave a faint shrug, his profile unreadable as he continued to gaze at the city.

“How could the Circe have trapped a deity?” I asked at length.

“Panopé gave them her power to help create the grid. It was supposed to be temporary, drawing on her powers and the Malakim to make the walls impenetrable. The Circe must’ve devised a way to keep Panopé there. They saw an opportunity and took it. Panopé waited, all this time, for someone to come along.”

“Someone like you.” I smiled and wiggled my eyebrows at him.

He snorted. “Yeah, who knew . . .? Come on, we need to find a mage to get us out of here.”

We left the cliffs behind and walked a winding path through the inner city, to the main gate. A few curious looks were thrown our way, my gown and jewels drawing the eye, but attention was focused on the chaos of the three towers falling, the recovery effort, the wounded . . .

“Why do you think she waited so long, though?” I said as we went. “I mean, every year during the rites, sirens walk through her waters. Why didn’t she say anything?”

“Maybe she did. I don’t know. Maybe she knew that if she did communicate, the Circe would immediately silence the person and the goddess from speaking again. Maybe she was waiting for the right moment, an enemy of the Circe. Who knows?”

Once we were in the outer city, Hank arranged for a mage to take us back to Ithonia. He bent down and unclasped one of the ankle bracelets and handed it to the mage, whose eyes turned to saucers. “Will this do?”

The mage stammered and managed a nod.

Hank turned to me. “He’ll take you first, straight to the terminal in Ithonia, then he’ll come back for me.”

Part of me wanted to tell him to go first. I’d left him behind once, and didn’t want to do it again. But I knew he’d brook no argument, so I nodded. The mage pocketed the anklet, took my elbow, and we were off.

I arrived at the terminal and waited for Hank to join me. He appeared in short order and then we headed toward the gate. Unfortunately, the gate agent from before wasn’t there as I was hoping.

With no ID or papers, we had to be fingerprinted, run through the system, and then had to wait for temporary passes before being allowed through the gate and into the sphere. We also nearly came to blows with several gate officials about the head in the bag.

We spent three hours sitting in a windowless room, getting the basic interrogation tactics. Amateurs. I told it like it was. Sandra had given specific instructions to her guard in the event of her death. An agent had gone through the gate into Atlanta, contacted Tuni, her jinn bodyguard, and had returned with him to confirm the oracle’s last will and wishes.

A jinn’s presence in Ithonia, even at the gate, was a memorable event. Tuni was huge, with smooth gray skin, bald head, pierced ears, and a bolt through one eyebrow. His eyes were violet and intense, and he strode from the gate like some demon lord who had every right to be there.

He pretty much stopped everyone in their tracks.

I stood from the long bench against the wall near the gate agent’s desk. I had no idea what kind of relationship Alessandra had with Tuni, but I did know he was her number one, and he took his job seriously. My anxiety rose the closer he got. I waited for his eyes to glow violet, but he strode by me without a glance and followed the agent into a room.

There was silence over the entire terminal as everyone in the know waited for the explosion, for Tuni to flip out when they gave him Sandra’s head. But the only sound was the click of the door as it opened.

Tuni strode out with the sack. This time he stopped in front of me. His eyes swept over my gown and his brow lifted a fraction. He reached to his back pocket, pulled out a letter, and handed it to me. “She wanted you to have this.”

I took the letter. “Tuni . . . I’m sorry . . .”

“Don’t be. She knew what she was doing.”

With that, he gave a curt nod to Hank and continued on. The entire terminal didn’t release their collective breath until Tuni disappeared into the sphere.

Since Hank and I were both in the system with federal law enforcement status, and our story checked out— as much as it could be checked—we were eventually given clearance to leave.

From Hartsfield-Jackson, it was a taxi ride into the city, Sandra’s letter still clutched tightly in my hand. Hank was quiet for most of the ride, staring out the window at the dark landscape of steel and concrete and lights. Coming back to Atlanta felt surreal after where I’d been, what I’d seen, the things I’d done . . .

“How did you know about the NecroNaMoria?” Hank asked quietly.

I started at the beginning and told him about walking through the city, trying to use my mark to get a lead on his location, finding his home, and my altercation with Leander. “He seemed to know a lot about you. Do you know him?”

Hank shook his head. “Is he siren?”

“Might be. It was hard to tell. He’s old and powerful, and he knows a lot about First Ones.” I explained our fight and how Leander had called back my power before it escaped enough to draw Sachâth, how he knew about First Ones and their Disciples. And the tablet. The fucking tablet. “And with it, went my chances of getting the cure for ash.” Which, after everything, was a hard pill to swallow. I stared out the window for a long moment. “Leander knew about your family, the history, everything. Was he right about all that? About what the Circe did to them?”

Pain flashed through his eyes, pain and deep, deep guilt. I knew what he was thinking. If he’d never left the grid they’d all be alive. I thought about fate, and was on the verge of telling him that maybe he was meant to leave Fiallan, to become a different person, one worthy—because of what happened—to be given the Source Words.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “About your family.”

He was staring out the window again, his only response a curt nod. Hank had taken his revenge, and he’d blazed one hell of a bloody path to do it. I would’ve done the same. The Circe got off easy, all the lives they’d taken over the years, an entire family wiped out . . .

The taxi pulled up to the curb on Alabama Street to let Hank off. “Make the meeting with Leander, Charlie. I want to know what he knows. Sachâth is still out there. Neither one of us will be able to rest until that thing is dead. If we take the offensive and face it on our terms . . .”

Which was better than having an accidental power surge, or drawing it here in the heat of battle, or simply becoming divine enough until it sensed me all the time, in which case, I’d be on the run for eternity.

Sachâth could be killed or Sandra wouldn’t have given me the prophecy. I— we—just had to put the pieces together to figure it out.

“I’ll call you when I have a time and place.”

Hank opened the door and got out, leaving me feeling a bit dumbfounded. He handed the driver a card, which was scanned through the machine in order to pay the fare, then gave him the address to my house.

I sat there, wondering if that was it. Now that we were back home, things had suddenly turned weird and awkward. I’m not sure what I expected, but even a See ya later, thanks for the out-of-this-world sex and trying to save my ass would’ve been better than . . . nothing.

I was so deep in thought that I didn’t see Hank come around the front of the car and open my door. I nearly fell out of the car. He righted me and leaned in quickly, kissed my lips, withdrew just enough to look into my eyes, and said, “Put the jewels and the gown in a safe place. We’ll be needing them later.” He winked, shut my door and then banged on the top.

Before I had a chance to gather my wits and respond, the taxi was already pulling away from the curb.

The ride passed in a blur.

I used the spare key to let myself in the house. Emma was in school and my Tahoe was gone, which meant Rex had gone somewhere.

I set the letter on the bedside table, hung up the gown, hid the jewels in an empty shoe box in the closet, and then took a long shower. After rummaging for leftovers and filling my belly, I crawled into my bed and went to