Dragonmark (31 page)

Groaning, Zakar covered his face.

Thorn nodded and clapped the Sumerian god on the back. “At least
you
see the train wreck coming. At least you can identify this nightmare as it's happening. Good for you!”

Acheron glared at him. “Enlighten those of us who can't.”

Thorn stepped away to continue. “Long story short, Kessar fed from the god, and they made a pact to combine their fun-loving natures and kind spirits. Please note the sarcasm in my tone and don't miss the Alaska-sized ulcer. As a result, Apollo has attacked Olympus.”

“No.” Acheron shook his head. “I was there. That was Kessar who attacked Olympus.”

“No, punkin.'
That
was Apollo leading those demons. It's how they got in. Three guesses what he wanted. And
world peace
is definitely not one of them.”

“Revenge.”

Thorn shook his head at Dante and made a sarcastic buzzer sound. “Too easy, and a given. Guess again.”

Sick to his stomach, Max exchanged a panicked stare with Illarion.

Thorn applauded. “Oh look, I think the dragons got it. And why shouldn't they? Illarion, being the son of Ares, ought to know
exactly
what he wants.”

He's after the Spartoi.

“Yes. Yes, he is.”

Fury scowled. “What's the Spartoi? Is that like a plastic model of the
300
characters? God, someone, please tell me that it's an action figure and not what I fear it might be.…”

Seraphina grimaced. “No. It's your fear, I'm sure. They're a rather nasty and invincible branch of Ares's army. It's said that when a Drakone of Ares sows them into the earth, they sprout full grown, ready to battle and destroy at the command of whoever planted them.”

“And guess who has custody of those little darlings right now?” Thorn pointed to Illarion. “How do
I
know this? Your father squealed like a thirteen-year-old girl at a Shawn Mendes sighting.”

“Aye, he did indeed,” Cadegan agreed as he rose on shaky legs, holding his ribs. “For a god of war, Ares is a bit of a wanker. He ain't no Aeron, that's for sure.”

“And speaking of our favorite Celtic war god, he's still fighting them and I need to get back and help before they make a gallu of him and we all go down in a ball of sarcastic Aeron fire. They convert him, he'll convert his two best buddies, and I'm out. I don't want no part of that fight. Ever.” Thorn glanced at Savitar. “Yes, I am that big a coward, for I have fought the evil that is Aeron and friends, had my ass handed to me on a platter with applesauce and garnishings, and yeah … no, thank you. Nothing is worth an ass-kicking that severe. Of which I got for nothing more than looking at his sister cock-eyed. Imagine what he'd do if I actually offended
him
.”

Max stepped forward. “We'll settle this with you.”

“We?”

“The drakomai.”

Sera nodded. “And the Drakos.”

Wide-eyed and furious, Max gaped. She passed a chiding smile at him. “Don't give me that look, Lord Dragon. I don't want you fighting, either.”

Edena and Hadyn moved forward to join them.

“Oh hell no!” Max snapped. “I might not have a say in what Sera does, but you two I do!”

When they started to protest, Seraphina shook her head. “Your father's right. Neither of you is ready for this. And if you roll those eyes at me, young lady, I'll ground you till the sun explodes, and your brother, too, just because he taught you to do it when you were little.”

Edena huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I liked it better when they didn't talk or get along.”

Hadyn nodded his agreement, but wisely remained silent.

As Thorn moved back to leave, four Were-Hunters fell to the floor for no reason.

Dead.

Silence echoed as everyone knew exactly what it meant. Those were bonded mates whose spouses had been killed somewhere else. Three council members and one of the Arcadian wolves who'd come in with Star and Dare. For that to happen simultaneously, there was only one cause.

War.

“What the fuck?” Dante breathed.

Thorn and Savitar went pale.

As did Acheron. “They're dividing and attacking our families to thin our defenses and hit our morale.”

“It's working,” Fury said in a panicked tone.

Savitar motioned for Zakar, Sin, and Styxx. “We'll see to Apollymi in Kalosis and make sure she's secure.”

Thorn jerked his chin at the Peltiers and the Kattalakis brothers. “We'll take Sanctuary. Sera, you better join us. Nala's with them. I can feel it.”

Cadegan and Blaise exchanged a determined look. “We'll stay here to guard your young. No fears there for you.”

Acheron looked to the drakomai. “We'll return to Olympus, and finish it. Once and for all.”

Illarion and Max nodded.

“Remember, Maxis,” Sera reminded him. “There is no
I
in
team
.”

He winked at her. “True, but there is in
win
,
fight
, and
die
.”

“And you'd best not do the latter.”

Inclining his head, Max turned and joined Acheron and his brothers. It'd been centuries since he'd gone to real war with Falcyn and Illarion. Yet it seemed like no time at all as they changed forms and fell into formation.

As eldest, Falcyn took lead. The Katagaria Drakos came to fight with them on Olympus while the Arcadians went with Sera and the others to protect Sanctuary.

By the time they arrived, Apollo and Kessar had virtually torched every building, and most of the gods had withdrawn from the conflict. Only a brave handful remained to try and salvage what they could. The Greek god Demon and his twin, Phobos. Most of the Dream-Hunters.

Only Apollo's temple remained standing perfectly intact. But that wasn't their target or destination.

Ares's temple was what drew their attention. The iron structure had the front doors ripped open. And the perches that were usually manned by Insidia and Nefas stood empty. Bodies of demons smoldered on the steps.

Obviously, Kessar and Apollo had gone there looking for the Spartoi and found nothing.

It was easy to find where the Malachai demon—a natural enemy of the Greeks—was still embroiled in a bitter fight against Apollo and the gallu.

Illarion smiled at the sight. The Malachai had always been stubborn in a brawl. They never knew when to give up or surrender. It was one of the things he liked best about the man, Nick Gautier, and it was what had kept Nick from turning evil like the rest of his brethren.

So far, at least.

Even though Nick had been born cursed and destined to be one of the creatures who ultimately destroyed the earth, he battled an inner war every day to keep himself from crossing over and becoming what his father had been.

“Incoming!”

Max moved to engage the winged gallu demons first. Illarion and Falcyn stayed at his back, covering his flank.

Zakar had been right. The gallu were vicious in their skills.

“Don't let them scratch you!” Acheron warned, unaware of the fact that they were immune.

Illarion spewed fire and swept the ground, razing as much of it as he could. Fire would purify the gallu and keep their disease from spreading and infecting anyone else and turning them into mindless gallu slaves. He and his brothers fell in beside the former Dark-Hunter Zarek and the Dream-Hunter leader, Jericho while they tried to route a group of demons out of the Hall of the Gods.

It took a while, but they eventually had them on the run, headed up the hill toward Apollo's temple.

Winged himself and as a Titan god of war, Jericho shot up between the dragons. “Thanks for the assist.”

Falcyn inclined his head to him. “What are they after?”

“Apollo showed up, telling Zeus to abdicate. You know how that went. Even though he's just a figurehead these days, Zeus tossed a few lightning bolts at him and it was on.”

With a hand covered by sharpened silver claws he used as a weapon, Zarek grabbed a demon that tried to bite him, ripped out its throat, and slung it so hard, it flew up and almost hit Max.

“Hey!”

“Duck,” Zarek said sarcastically, a little late.

Max flipped off the surly god.

For once, Zarek ignored the insult as he headed after another group. At least someone enjoyed the fighting.

Suddenly, Illarion caught an odd note over the sounds of battle. At first, he thought he was hearing things.

But it seemed to grow louder.…

He shook his head in denial. No.

It was a figment of his imagination. A vague memory caused by war and the memories it stirred. Nothing more.

Just something weird in the wind.

Yet it didn't abate.

Worse, it began to lure him like the call of a siren.

Without a word and unable to resist the musical summons, Illarion tucked his wings and landed near his father's temple.

Max landed beside him. “Is something wrong?”

Do you hear that?

“Hear what?”

Illarion cocked his head as he heard it even more clearly now, and it was definitely inside the temple.
It's Cercamon.

“Who?”

A twelfth-century troubadour. Edilyn was forever making me take her to see him play.

Max heard it then. Light and subtle. Barely audible and yet distinct.

Bel m'es quant ilh m'enfolhetis

E•m fai badar e•n vau muzan!

De leis m'es bel si m'escarnis

O•m gaba dereir'o denan,

Qu'apres lo mal me venra bes

Be leu, s'a lieys ven a plazer.

What the hell? Why would that be playing in the background? It seemed a strange choice for a Greek god of war.

Metallica, Pantera … that would make sense. Death metal, definitely. But medieval love poetry?

Nah, it just didn't fit.

Illarion turned human so that he could sneak inside for a peek. Max followed suit only to find that it wasn't Ares who was playing and singing in the middle of battle.

It was Apollo. Which kind of made sense, he supposed, since Apollo was the god of music and poetry, and rather passive.

Sure, why not?
Him and Nero. Fiddling while Rome, or in this case, Olympus burned.

The god probably needed the light from the fires to read with his old eyes.

As if sensing their presence, Apollo stopped playing and narrowed his gaze angrily on the shadows that concealed them. “Little dragons, all in a row. Tell the big Greek god, how deep does your sorrow flow?”

Illarion curled his lip.

Max grabbed Illarion's arm and tried to pull him back, but Illarion refused to obey.

He needed to wring Apollo's neck.

Apollo rose to his feet, while he continued to pluck at his lyre. “I know you're there, son of Ares. I can feel you. Come and give your uncle a hug … sing with me.”

Illarion actually took a step forward.

Max sank his claws into his brother's arm, hoping the pain might get through to him since nothing else was working, and shook his head no.
It's a trick!

Pressing his lips together, Illarion finally hesitated.

“Ahh,” Apollo said in a petulant tone. He plucked a sour note. “Don't you trust me, Illy? You do know that's why Dagon chose you for his experiments all those centuries ago, don't you? Because you were my nephew, he thought to use you to spare the Apollites my curse. He knew my love for you, as your uncle, would sway my mercy. It's why I begged Zeus and the Fates to spare you from the slaughter.”

Apollo tsked. “Your jealous half brother Max didn't tell you that, did he? That I never wanted
you
harmed. You and Lycaon's sons were to be excluded from the cleansing. Your brother lied to you, Illarion, to save his own ass, and to win you to his cause. It's what he's been doing since the very beginning. Why do you think he left you trapped all those centuries in Le Terre Derrière le Voile?”

Max gaped furiously at that accusation.
Bullshit! You know better, Illy. You were there. You heard them, same as I. That's not the way it happened!

“Don't listen to him. You aren't born of Arel blood, little nephew. You have no loyalty to anyone save our pantheon. Join us and I'll give you what you want most.”

“Illarion.” Max spoke out loud, trying to reach his brother through whatever spell the god was weaving with his lyre and words. “Don't listen to Apollo. He's lying. You know he's lying!”

He was right. Illarion knew Apollo couldn't speak honestly if he had to. It just wasn't in the worthless bastard. Hell, even his instrument was pronounced as a liar.

Illarion took a step back and grabbed on to Max's arm to steady himself.

Relieved beyond belief that his brother had chosen wisely, Max wrapped his arms around him and held him close. He could feel Illarion trembling against him.

Until a light, musical voice called out with the cadence of a perfect angel.

“Illarion?”

In that moment, Illarion's world came crashing down.

For a full minute, he couldn't breathe.

Stunned. Shocked. Incredulous, he pulled back and looked up with wide eyes. No. It couldn't be.

Edilyn?

“I'm here, my precious dearling. I've missed you so much!”

Apollo laughed. “All you have to do is join me, nephew. Help me take back what was stolen and I'll see you reunited with your Edilyn.”

Max shook his head and held on tight to Illarion's arm. “You can't do this! Illarion! It's a trick!”

Illarion looked from his brother to Edilyn. This was no trick. He would know that voluptuous body anywhere. Those blue eyes that laughed and shined more vibrantly than the sun …