Alterant (40 page)

Sen appeared in front of her holding the hourglass . . . empty. “I don’t see three Alterants with you.”

“What the hell is that?” Isak yelled, no longer using his bullhorn and heading toward them.

Sen turned with an annoyed expression. Red laser dots peppered his head and chest. He lifted his hand, pointing a finger toward them, a clear sign of aggression to a black-ops team.

A blast of power exploded from one of the weapons.

Sen flipped his palm up, stopping the round in midair inches from his hand.

What was this guy? Evalle expected Isak’s men to unload everything at that, but they had all turned into living statues, locked in whatever position they’d been in when Sen had lifted his palm.

She asked, “How long will they stay frozen like that?”

Sen turned back to her with a negligent shrug. “Until I leave, and they won’t remember any of this.”

What she wouldn’t give to have that kind of power, especially with Sen still holding the empty hourglass.

He glanced around with a smug smile. “As I was saying, I don’t see three Alterants with you.”

“There’s a good reason why.”

“Like I give two shits?”

From the corner of her eye, Evalle saw Storm step from the shadows, eyes glittering with deadly intent. He dropped into a crouch, getting ready to attack Sen.

A suicidal move.

She yelled, “Don’t!”

Sen didn’t even turn around or move a muscle, but she knew he was the one who sent a wicked blast of power that knocked Storm against the apartment building. Bones cracked viciously when his body smashed against the bricks. A sickening sound rattled from his lungs as he slid down into a boneless heap.

Blood trickled from his mouth.

She lunged for him, screaming, “
No
!”

But her body halted in midair. Sen held her there for
a minute, long enough to make her realize Storm’s chest hadn’t moved. He wasn’t breathing.

When the world started spinning, her arms and legs functioned again. She beat her fists in every direction, trying to hit Sen, whose laughter rolled through the swirling colors.

She called up her kinetics. Useless.

Storm couldn’t be dead.

That couldn’t be the last vision of him she’d carry with her to a lifetime of isolation. The Tribunal would listen to nothing she had to say. No provision for failure.

Oh, dear Goddess. Failure.

If she’d thought her heart couldn’t take another hit, she’d been wrong.

What would the Tribunal do to Brina?

What would that do to the Beladors?

THIRTY-FOUR

W
hen the teleporting ended, Evalle ignored Sen, who stood next to her with arrogant pleasure. She barely noted the plush grass beneath her feet and black sky filled with shooting stars and two moons.

The most beautiful and deadly part of this parallel universe were the two gods and one goddess positioned on a shining gold dais this time. An arch of diamond-shaped sparkling lights curved above their heads.

Water dripped off Evalle’s nose and soaked her clothes. That might be why she couldn’t get her eyes to clear, but she doubted all of the water on her face was left over from being drenched.

Was Storm really gone?

Defeat devastated her. She wanted to curl up somewhere and hide, but not with Brina’s fate still in jeopardy.

Pele addressed Evalle. “You come before us with not one of the three escaped Alterants?”

“About those,” Evalle started in.

Ares interjected, “Four, counting the one you helped escape.”

Denying she’d played a role in Tristan’s escape would be futile. “Of the first three, one was killed by the Medb.”

No sympathy to be found on that dais.

“I used my last gift to keep them from being killed,
and
I destroyed all of the fog when I did. I saved millions of lives—”

Ares said, “You were told to deliver the Alterants. The fog had not reached the point of harming millions of lives—”

Evalle argued, “But I ran up against the Medb while trying to bring in the Alterants. Kizira took credit for the fog and said she planned to expand it across North America.”

“And,” Ares shouted to let her know she’d made a huge mistake by interrupting him, “we suspect that only the creator—who you say is the Medb—or someone associated with that pantheon could disperse the fog. If that is the case, you may now explain how
you
were able to wipe away a sentient fog that no deity in the VIPER coalition could affect.”

Trying to save the world had cast her as being in league with the Medb? She’d give the Tribunal credit. “I don’t know. It had to be your power, because I used the gift you gave me.”

Wrong suggestion. Every regal face on the dais hardened with insult.

Loki spoke up. “I call Brina of Treoir.”

No! Evalle tried to reach the warrior queen telepathically.
Don’t come to the Tribunal meeting, Brina.

But Brina’s holographic image took shape between Evalle and the dais. Brina said to Evalle,
I must come when summoned.

I failed big time.
Those words cut her heart with the sharpness of a razor against raw skin.

I know. I heard about Tristan escaping.

That was an accident,
Evalle pled.
Tristan has information on the Alterants that might sway the Tribunal if they’ll just let me explain, but they’re blaming me with the fog because I used my last gift to make it go away permanently.

You shouldn’t have been able to do that when VIPER deities could not influence the fog.

I have no idea why it worked. Maybe it was the power of all three of these in the gifts or the fact that I was in the fog when I called on the gift, or maybe Kizira just lied about being responsible for the fog . . . I don’t know, but I swear I’m not with the Medb, Brina.

Brina nodded, then spoke to the Tribunal. “I ask that you allow Evalle a chance to explain—”

“That was
not
our agreement, Warrior Queen,” Ares charged. “You accepted the terms, and I see no Alterants or the one known as Tristan, freed at her hands.”

The dark heavens surrounding them shook and rumbled with the force of his declaration.

Pele agreed. “No deity among the VIPER coalition has been able to stop the fog from spreading. Yet your Alterant destroyed something
she
now tells us was created by the Medb. Based upon her own testimony, she is aligned with your enemy and yet you defend her?”

Brina answered, “No one has proof of who was behind the fog. The Medb could have been lying to her.”

Pele’s impatience was evident in her refusal to debate the fog issue further. “Regardless, this one”—she pointed at Evalle—“has answered beyond any doubt that her loyalty lies with seeing her fellow Alterants remain free.”

The goddess directed her attention to Evalle. “Is that not so?”

Not the way Pele stated it.

Evalle would not stand here and have her loyalty called into question. “I am
not
involved with the Medb. I am loyal to the Beladors. I have no idea why the gift worked, but even with what you’re accusing me of I would use it again to protect humans across this continent.”

“As well as Alterants?” Loki challenged softly.

Evalle considered all that had transpired and figured this would be her last chance to speak up for Alterants. “Would I like to see all Alterants who’ve done nothing wrong be free? I never said those specific words, but as one myself, I can only answer that question as yes. We should have the right of every other free being. I left here with the goal of bringing those three escapees back to face judgment that I
thought
would be fair.”

Evalle paused to consider her next words. When no one on the dais stabbed her with a lightning bolt, she added, “I told the other Alterants that I believed a fair and just Tribunal would have given each of them the chance to plead his case to remain free. And Tristan has information that sheds light on the origin of Alterants and will answer many questions.”

Brina turned halfway around at that declaration, gave Evalle a questioning look, then resumed her quiet pose.

Evalle went on. “He believes he can show that we are not anomalies of nature but a race to be recognized.”

“We would hear this Tristan, but”—Loki made a show
of looking around the room—“he is not here.” A sarcastic laugh feathered his taunt.

Ares spoke with the power of a gun blast. “We have heard enough. The task was not performed. Judgment is due.”

Brina spoke up. “Can Macha not—”

“Macha?” Loki chided. “What more would you ask of your goddess when she has been generous to offer sanctuary to this Alterant until now? There is no challenge to this judgment when the Alterants are not a recognized race and have not been accepted into a pantheon . . . unless you wish to inform this Tribunal of such a change in their status?” He angled his head in question. “No? I thought not.”

Evalle stared at the back of Brina’s quiet hologram with horror.

Pele nodded as though a silent discussion had just ended between her and the two gods. Her lyrical voice rang out with unquestioned authority. “Brina of Treoir, you are held accountable for this failure.”

Evalle shouted, “No! That’s not fair.”

Ares pointed at Evalle’s feet, and the lightning bolt she’d been worried about struck the ground an inch from her toes. Energy stung her skin. Ares said, “Speak another unsolicited word and the next one will go through your heart.”

Brina spoke in Evalle’s mind.
Do not make this worse by arguing. I doubt they will do anything more than suspend me from standing at Tribunal meetings with sanctioned Beladors for a while. That would leave a warrior under judgment at the mercy of the Tribunal with no support, but there are worse things in our world.

Evalle calmed at that, but now it was her fault other warriors would not benefit by having Brina at their side to face a trio of heartless deities.

When Brina spoke, Evalle understood why warriors followed this woman into battle. “Evalle may have failed you, but she did not fail me or her Belador tribe. I do not believe she has anything to do with the Medb. I will always stand by my warriors in any battle, even those sent to battle upon uneven ground.”

Loki gifted Brina with a gorgeous smile. “Your reward for believing in a genetic mishap is to remain with us forever.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Brina countered, suspicion coloring the end of her words.

“Oh, but your hologram can.”

“What? You can’t—” Brina lifted her hands in defense against an invisible threat . . . and turned into a translucent statue locked in that position.

Oh, dear Goddess. What had Loki done? Evalle looked to the grinning god, opened her mouth to curse him a thousand ways when he said, “You wish to speak, Alterant?”

She caught the warning and clamped her lips shut. Brina had cautioned her not to antagonize the Tribunal. Evalle shoved her fisted hands behind her back, sure that Sen would notice the movement, but the bastard had to be enjoying this too much to interrupt.

Evalle nodded, then answered Loki in a respectful voice, when she’d rather rip his throat out. “I have nothing to say for myself, but I don’t see the point in freezing Brina’s image when I’m the one who failed.”

Pele covered her mouth and laughed. She cut her eyes to Ares, then Loki, who both erupted in laughter.

What could be so funny about that? What would have united those three on any front?

Evalle sent a quick glance at Sen, who seemed mildly confused.

When the laughter died, Pele said, “Loki did not
freeze
Brina’s image. He captured her hologram and locked it into a timeless prison. A part of Brina’s essence travels with her in the hologram to allow her use of power outside of Treoir Isle.”

Did that mean . . . they had actually locked away part of Brina’s power? What about the Beladors?

Full all-out panic shook Evalle. What had she done to her entire tribe?

“Evalle of the Beladors, you are hereby sentenced to VIPER imprisonment for as long as you shall draw a breath.”

VIPER? What about the jungle like Tristan had been sent to?

She turned to Sen, who whispered, “I promise that you will live a long life.”

THIRTY-FIVE