“I'll text Teharon when I'm ready,” she said.
“I'm going with you.” Teharon took her hand firmly.
“Then I shall text Brahma.” Karni chuckled as they traced away.
As soon as they were gone, I turned to Finn and said, “Good thinking.”
“Even I don't wanna walk through a sea of rats, and I was the Pied Piper,” Pan exclaimed. “I inspired the story, I mean.”
“How many fairy tales have you been a part of?” Morpheus asked.
“He's a walking joke.” Horus smirked. “Who wouldn't be inspired to write children's fiction after merely looking at him?”
“If it plays a flute or has 'Pan' somewhere in its title, it probably stemmed from me,” Pan said proudly; ignoring Horus. Then he turned to the Egyptian and said, “You're just jelly that no one has ever turned you into a story.”
“Um, excuse me, but people have created entire religions based upon me,” Horus said. “Jesus has his magic because of me. But has he ever thanked me? No.”
“Oh, here we go again.” Pan rolled his eyes.
“The image of my mother holding me as a baby sparked the iconography of the Holy Mother and Child,” Horus growled. “That was my holy mother and me!”
“Yep; we know,” Hekate said. “It's been two-thousand years, Horus, maybe you should let it go.”
“What was it that you said to me, Horus?” I mused. “Oh, yeah; get over it.”
“No one likes their words thrown back in their face, Vervain,” Horus said.
“Then maybe you shouldn't be a hypocrite, Horus,” I suggested sweetly.
“Oh, damn!” Pan whistled. “She got you.”
“And I shall get her back when the perfect time arises,” Horus declared diabolically.
Brahma's phone chirped, and he checked his messages. “It's Karni; we are clear for tracing into the rat pit.”
See... I told you; Indiana Jones.
Chapter Ten
Karni's private quarters were thankfully rat-free and also quite beautiful. Moonlight filtered in through the cut stonework in the ceiling, although the numerous lights within drowned it out. Still, the stars could be seen through the intricate panels; adding yet another layer of serenity to the sanctuary of velvet-upholstered furniture, copper pots filled with tropical plants, and silk carpets. The gentle sound of a gurgling fountain and the scent of spicy tea completed the ambiance.
Karni and Teharon sat in the middle of this peaceful paradise with a blue man. Not a member from that drum-pounding, alienesque performance group; this blue man was much paler and far more attractive. You wouldn't think that blue would work as a skin color, but when it was so pale that it almost became a glow, it did. The soft waves of blue-black hair curling over his slim shoulders and his gentle eyes surrounded by thick lashes didn't hurt either. He was dressed in a cloth that wrapped around his lower half and between his legs—making it into loose pants—with a golden belt holding it on; his trim waist and solidly-slim chest bare. He wore no shoes or other adornments; the perfect picture of a Hindu god relaxing at home. He stood and smiled warmly at us.
“Everyone, this is Krishna, God of Compassion, Tenderness, and Love,” Karni Mata introduced him.
Then Karni introduced us; going through the round of names that took forever. As she rattled off each god in our Squad—a few of whom were already familiar with Krishna—I considered the Hindu god. He was another love deity, so I should have felt a connection to him, but I didn't. All I felt was comfortable; he just seemed like a really nice guy. When you thought about him being the first god to attempt to share Atlantean advances openly with the human race, it became a certainty. Krishna's magic suited him. I still couldn't figure out why my love magic wasn't recognizing his, though.
“You have a question in your eyes, Godhunter,” Krishna noted as we all settled into our seats.
Teharon had navigated Karni as far away from Krishna as possible. I, however, sat right across from him.
“You're a god of love,” I began, and my men shifted nervously. “But I don't feel any...”
“Bond with me?” Krishna asked with a mischievous smile.
“Exactly.”
“I wove a ward around my magic long ago,” Krishna went grim as he spoke. “I saw too many of my brothers and sisters in Love turn their magic into something I didn't approve of, and I didn't want my magic tainted by theirs. From what I've heard of you, however, you have brought Aphrodite's magic back to its true form. I applaud you for that. But you are a rare goddess.”
“I'm not entirely a goddess,” I said with a smile.
“Just so.” He nodded serenely. “That may be your saving grace.”
“My wife has recently had some trouble with another god of love,” Trevor leaned forward to say. “Having a ward around her magic would have been helpful. Can you teach her how to cast one?”
“I don't believe so,” Krishna said sadly. “My ward took years to cast and the undertaking was strenuous. Magic—like anything else—does not wish to be cut off from its family. The result is akin to removing a spider from its web; it will only build new threads.”
“Your magic constantly challenges the ward,” I concluded.
“Yes.” He nodded. “And that is difficult to do with my three branches of love-related magic to protect. It
