10. Rodan

10

Rodan

A nkou's yellow eyes glowed in the darkness of the room. Even as Rodan lit the lamps on their wall sconces with a slight push of magic, the gods gaze was intense. Almost searing.

And all for Maeve.

Rodan knew that look well. It was familiar to what he knew was on his own face when he beheld her, because she was everything. She commanded the attention of everyone in the room, simply with her very being, and was beginning to understand how to use it.

"Ankou," Maeve breathed, straightening and touching the pendant resting at her breastbone. "You came."

"You called," he said.

Rodan studied him. The god was dressed in purest black. Suit, shirt, and a cloak that disappeared into mist and shadow. While his features were sharp, almost hawkish, his expression was soft as he gazed upon his progeny. A dark eyebrow rose, and a thin smile revealed brilliantly white teeth. He sat behind the only desk, almost as though he had been there all the while.

"Is it truly that simple?" Maeve asked, fingertips still tracing the curves of the golden rose. "I pray for you, and you'll come?"

"For the most part, my heart, yes," Ankou steepled his fingers and leaned forward with his elbows on the desk, studying her with a tilt to his head. "It may not always be instant, but I will attempt to come whenever you call. Now. What has happened to you?"

She stayed silent for a time, long enough that Rodan spoke in her stead, feeling enough of her hesitation and racing thoughts through the bond to know she needed the assist, at least for the moment. "Maeve was taken by the Nyx again, to be shaped into their Queen, but this time a god came, and took her fire."

Ankou's attention snapped to Rodan, and for a moment he felt as though he was back in the chamber in that underground realm, standing at the foot of a massive black throne.

Your oath.

Maeve's voice slid through his mind. You're not there. You're here with me.

Rodan took a deep breath, steadying himself. "It was one of your brothers."

Ankou's smile sharpened. "You'll have to be more specific. I have three."

"Ninack," Maeve supplied. "It was him. He threatened everyone—said he would destroy everything—if I did not give him my fire. He said he had done this before, with Rizor and Tegal's children. But that I was to be given over to the Nyx, the creatures you created."

Ankou pulled in a breath, eyes widening on Maeve for a moment before a cool, blank expression took over once more. "You gave your fire to him willingly?"

"I had to," Maeve whispered. "He was going to go after Jen first. She's my best friend."

"I know what she is to you," Ankou said, sounding distracted as he rubbed the tips of his long thin fingers together. Wavering lines of blue flame danced there, and he sighed, the light reflecting in his yellow eyes. "This is not ideal."

They waited, but when the god said nothing more, seeming deep in thought as he watched the dancing flames between his fingertips, Rodan provided more information. "The same night Maeve was taken, so was I, by my father. Long thought banished. His intention was to give me over to your brother, Ninack, who has been his patron god for eons. What does this mean?"

"That my brother is a clever fool, and he has us well and truly trapped." Ankou smiled a thin smile, his attention back to Maeve. "I can offer you a protection of a sort, but it will not restore your godhead. What you use will be depleted, and nothing more will generate." He rose, offering his hand. "I will give you some of my fire. Use it well, but use it when you must. I don't know how much you'll be able to take. I am not the same as your own wellspring."

Maeve blinked, her hand now clutched around the pendant at her throat. "Ankou?—"

"Father," he said, expression beseeching. Adding after a moment of silence, "Please."

Unease filtered through the bond, and Rodan stepped in with a gentle voice. "What might this cost?"

The god curled his hand back, expression pained. "There had to be a balance when it came to your death, Maeve my darling, as we were dealing with the base laws of Danu."

"What is Danu?" Maeve asked.

"She is all. The universe. The worlds, planets, and galaxies. The pathways. All of us. We live within her, and within her we are bound by some small limitations. All things that are born must die. That is one. And if you reverse that order, there must be a balance."

"But I shouldn't have died. The bond took hold. It should have reversed the poison."

Rodan felt a shock of cold roll down his back, and he stared open-mouthed at the god, who had gone quite still.

"How do you—" he started.

"The Nyx showed me many things," Maeve said. "Reminded me of many more. I saw the moment I died, and I saw Rodan act in time."

His heart was thundering. He could hardly believe his ears, and had he not wondered a thousand times why the bond had not worked, when it should have cured anything? "You took her."

"A bold thing, to accuse a god," Ankou said with a warning edge to his tone. He still stood behind the desk, the shadows of his cloak licking the ground and teasing the edges of the golden light from the lamps. He stared hard at Rodan, who refused to look away.

Then Maeve drew attention once more. "Tell me true, father," she said the last word clearly. "Did you pull my soul into death?"

Ankou's eyes widened at the use of the word father , and then his face went blank once more. "There is much you do not understand."

"Then tell me. Tell us. But is there a price to it?"

"I will," he said. "And for price, let me give you the fire. You need it more than you realize. Without it you're vulnerable."

Maeve's lips quirked into a smile. "I feel in part more powerful than I've ever been, and you call me vulnerable?"

"Your godhead always protected you," he whispered, holding his hands out once more, flames licking between his fingers. "More than you realize. I will explain everything, I promise. Only let me give this to you."

Maeve barely hesitated this time, placing her hands in his. Ankou smiled back at her, and for a moment they were a near-perfect picture of father proudly looking upon his only daughter.

And then Ankou's fire poured into her.

At first, the blue flames coated her skin and hair, danced upon her clothes and down her back, but soon it began to sink beneath the skin, to absorb even as Ankou released more. Through the bond Rodan could sense the swelling of power, but it was not a thing he could touch.

Let me show you , Maeve spoke in his mind.

And he was stepping through the open door of the bond, and everything was bathed in silver strings of interwoven light. It played over everything, a weaving of such infinite complexity that he could spend years fixating on a single spot.

Flowing out of her father and into her, a tsunami of power, of blue and silver strings knotted and tangled into ropes of the pure stuff of the making of the worlds.

Rodan snapped back into his mind and blinked away the afterimages of what he had been seeing through Maeve's perspective. She had her eyes closed now, but he knew she could still see it all. Is that how things look to you always? He asked.

No , she sighed back. Only when I use his power .

When Ankou finished, he brushed his thumbs along the back of her hands before letting go. Maeve wavered where she stood and Rodan went to her, helping steady. "It does feel different," she said, licking her lips as she leaned into him. "But the same." She giggled. "I didn't realize how much I'd miss this."

"She's power drunk," Ankou said with a frown. "I may have given too much. It is same-similar, but not precise. What her godhead produces is slightly different from my own source."

"You've spoken several times of godhead," Rodan said, arm wrapped around Maeve's waist to keep her steady. "What is it? What does it mean?"

"A godhead is a gift, as the bond was to the Fae. One given by Danu. She is the only true source, and from her we are all interconnected. It is what I warned you of, daughter, in dream. Our powers have an edge, and it will turn its sharpened self on you if you are not careful." He scoffed, then brought up his hand, and a staff formed, blue fire in a ball atop it, encased in iron spikes. "This is the visual representation of my own. To let anyone but myself hold it would mean I would stand before you as not as a god, but as a mortal."

The flames snuffed out, and his staff disappeared. "What my brother took from her, it was what linked her to Danu, intrinsically. It is a piece of the eternal. And now," Ankou continued. "For your other question." He curled his hand into a fist and let it drop to his side before staring between them both. "I did pull you down to my realm, Maeve, when I felt your touch upon my door once more."

"Once more?" Maeve's voice trembled. "What do you mean?"

Ankou stepped around the desk, pacing toward the door and examining some of the maps affixed to the walls.

Rodan still had his arm about Maeve, helping her stay steady as she wobbled as though from too much drink. She leaned into him and let out a brief, breathy giggle despite the seriousness of the situation.

Ankou stood with his white hands folded behind his back. His cloak of mist and shadows was so still it looked like fine cobweb lace at the edges. The god breathed deep, and his words were gentle, but firm. "All in this room know Maeve struggled with suicide, years ago."

She started to pull from his arms, but Rodan tightened his grip briefly, attempting to steady her. "You know what happened to me," she said, the words a weapon. An accusation.

Ankou was still for a moment, then turned to face them full. The darkness of his cloak flared, eclipsing some of the lamps and dimming the room. "I was made to give a promise. I could not break my word. Your mother swore, told me she would keep you safe. That there were methods among the Fae for raising a royal, and I…" He took a step forward, and Rodan had never seen him look so human. The death god looked beseeching, pleadingly upon his daughter's face. "I believed her, my daughter, and I am so sorry. I did not know it was you coming to my gates, at first."

This time when Maeve moved, Rodan let her go. She threw herself into one of the chairs and gestured at her father to do the same. "Tell me everything."