Fury Rising (Fury Unbound Book 1) (6 page)

The tiers were wide and steep, but flight after flight of staircases were interspersed between the temples, descending through the tiers. Spacious moving sidewalks ran in long ovals, circling each tier. On all four sides of the Peninsula of the Gods, mini-malls containing food courts, restrooms, and elevators offered supplicants a place to eat, rest, and access—an important factor for those who couldn’t manage the stairs.

At the bottom, a center pond caught the runoff from rain that trickled down through gutters along the stairwells. Pumps had been installed and during rainy season, the excess could be siphoned off to avoid flooding. The water was routed to chambers where it was recycled into use for city parks.

I passed by the Temple Valhalla. A group of priests brawled on the lawn. Chances were it was battle practice. They kept in top shape and, though they drank themselves under the table on a regular basis, they were a good group. Because of Hans, we had been invited to more feast days than I could count. I had staggered away from the Peninsula of the Gods far too many times after a night partying with the Viking wonders.

Naós ton Theón, the temple of the Grecian gods, was located on a middle tier, near an elevator landing. Though I usually took the stairs, I was still sore. I decided to give myself a break and ride down. I didn’t want to strain myself on the steps.

“Tier Three,” I said when the elevator asked for my destination. I leaned against the side of the car, the steel cooling my forehead. I was wearier than I realized. Usually I could weather a long day followed by a long night, but the Crossroads had left me drained. The ride was short, but by the time the doors opened all I wanted to do was go home and fall back into bed.

“You with me, Queet?” I hadn’t heard from him since last night.

A shift, then a whirling sparkle racing by told me that he was around. “Ready as I’ll ever be. She summoned me, too. Said I needed to hear what she had to say.”

“Hmm…this should prove interesting.”

Naós ton Theón was to the right, about half a block down the path. I passed the Coliseum, where the Roman gods hung out. A long line at the door caught my attention, but then I remembered that today was Saturday, and there was some sort of festival to Saturn going on.

Working my way around the crowds, I continued along the broad city street. Each tier had a railing to prevent people from falling—or being pushed—over the edge and as I walked along on the narrow sidewalk to the outside of the moving walkway, I stopped to peer over the side at the fountain below. A chill wind blew by and I inhaled the scent of brine and ocean water. It smelled like home. Really, when I thought about it, the Peninsula of the Gods was the one place I actually felt like I belonged.

Up ahead, Naós ton Theón gleamed against the sun. Built of cool marble, it had gray veins running through the stone, giving it a luxurious, mottled look. The Temple rose four stories into the air. As I ascended the steps, forgoing the moving ramp, it struck me just how different life had to be now compared to when the gods were first worshipped. Some days, I wondered what it would have been like, belonging to Hecate back in the time when Greece first rose to prominence, but I never really went anywhere with the thought. I liked modern life, even though I was living in the squalid part of the city.

At the entrance to the Temple I got in line at the M&M detector.
Metal and magic
. There was always the danger some zealot from another pantheon would come crashing through, hell bent on creating trouble. The priest manning the detector motioned to the scan board in front of him.

“Left hand, please.”

I placed my left hand on the flat screen. My chip would work on most scan boards, at least initially, but if they tried to track me, they’d find the altered code and that would be trouble. But the temples were good about never misusing their technology. It was the government that fell down on the job.

A moment later it beeped, bringing up information on his monitor. “Kaeleen Donovan, aka Fury. Theosian, aligned with Hecate. Weapons?”

I slid my sheath off of my back and handed him the sword, then pointed to my left thigh. He withdrew Xan from her sheath while the other priest unsnapped the thigh band and withdrew my dagger, examining it. His hand brushed my bare skin, but he was a professional and there was nothing about the touch that made me uncomfortable. The guardian priests were well-trained.

They scanned both blades.

“Please step through the detector.”

I walked beneath the archway. A light flashed green.

“I’m not picking up any hidden charms. Do you have any magic to declare?”

Which meant, in layman’s terms, was I packing anything that could be hidden from the detector? If I lied and they found out, I’d be banned. I felt in my pockets to make certain that I hadn’t inadvertently brought any charms along.

“Nope.”

“You can go through.” He handed my sword and dagger back to me. I slid them back into their sheaths and he waved me on.

As I headed toward the elevator, I heard him whisper to his coworker.

“That’s
Fury
,” he said in a low voice. “Hecate’s favorite.”

I couldn’t hear what the other guard replied as I crossed the hall to the elevator and punched the button. But if I was Hecate’s favorite, it was news to me.

The great hall of Naós ton Theón gleamed in shades of ivory and gold. Statues of the gods lined the hall, a bench beside each one for supplicants to sit and meditate.

Each god had their own chamber, complete with offering font and gallery. The main gallery was used for large gatherings and holidays. Draperies embroidered in ivory and gold sectioned off areas of the main hall, sweeping down from the walls, tied back with golden tassels. The temple seemed fairly empty, but here and there a supplicant sat near one of the statues. A woman was weeping next to Hera’s statue. By the gray shawl draped around her shoulder, I pegged her for a recent widow. Either that, or she had lost a child.

The elevator doors opened, and, as I entered the car, I silently wished her peace of mind. I knew what it was like to lose someone. You never fully got over it. As the doors shut, I flashed back to events that I tried to leave in the past, but never fully went away.

I was thirteen, and it was a chill winter night. My mother had taken me to a factory party with her. It was near Solstice and the Metalworks, where she held a job for ViCad Corp, threw a huge holiday party for all the workers and their families every winter, complete with a buffet, pageantry, and games. When my father was alive, we went as a family, given he had also worked for ViCad. But now, it was just my mother and me.

It was icy cold, with six inches of snow on the ground, and we were waiting at a Monotrain platform. But the train had broken down—the trains back to the Trips, where we lived, always had problems any time an ice storm hit. The readerboard flashed that it would be another hour before it arrived.

“We can’t just stand here. We’ll walk.” Marlene, my mother, glanced up at the sky. The storm had lifted, and stars twinkled down at us through the icy night.

I didn’t want to walk but kept my mouth shut. Marlene did her best to keep our lives together, even after my father died from blue-lung disease. ViCad was known for its poor health practices for its workers, but times were rough and jobs scarce, so neither one of my parents objected. And the fact that I was a Theosian brought in a little extra cash. ViCad had a vested interest in keeping the parents of Theosians employed, hoping at some point to use our powers.

She crossed her arms, tucking her hands under her armpits as we picked our way through the frozen slush and ice. “Damn, it’s cold out here.” Her breath hung in the air, freezing into vapor.

I was cold, too, but she had managed to buy me a new coat and a hat, and my boots were new, so I wasn’t going to complain. It was the end of the month and food was scarce until payday, but the party had offered a good chance to fill up our pockets with finger foods to tide us over until her next check. I had at least ten biscuits, three apples, and a half-dozen pastries hiding out in my backpack.

I stomped my feet as we stopped by a lamp post to catch our breath.

She flashed me a rueful look, her teeth chattering. “I’m sorry, honey. I just don’t want to chance freezing if we stayed at the platform and the next train didn’t come either. I can’t afford a cab. We’ll try another Monotrain platform when we make it to Darktown.”

I shrugged. “Whatever. I’m cold but it’s okay. I’ve been colder. I can walk if you can.”

“Thank you for being such a good sport. Did you enjoy the party?” Marlene beamed at me.

It seemed important to her, so I nodded. “Yeah, good food. It was pretty.” The decorations had been a muted glow of gold and silver and red against the walls, and the tree had looked real enough to me. Nobody ever cut down trees for decorations anymore. Gaia had put an end to that along with a number of other activities.

“I promise, we’ll be home soon and I’ll heat up some soup and we’ll curl up and watch a late movie. I have the day off tomorrow.”

Marlene wrapped her arm around my shoulders and I leaned against her. I loved her, and though she wasn’t ever fully sure how to cope with having a daughter who was a Theosian, she did her best. When my father had died of blue-lung disease when I was five, she picked up the pieces as best as she could and shouldered on for the both of us.

“I wish Terry was here,” she said softly, staring up at the sky. “He always loved the holidays.”

I gave her an absent nod. I didn’t like thinking about my father. His death was ugly, and I hated the coughing and hacking up dark blue mucous—one of the main symptoms of the magically induced lung disease. He had taken a shortcut through the Sandspit one too many times. So I had taken to telling people that he had been a soldier, killed in a faraway war.

Just then a car pulled up. Marlene leaned down to peek in the window. A moment later, she turned back. “He says he can give us a ride. What do you think?”

I frowned, closing my eyes. A dark shadow hung over the car and it chilled me to the bone. “No. I don’t want to get in.”

Marlene nodded. She didn’t fully understand my powers, but she didn’t question them, either. She turned away from the car, but the door slammed open against her back, knocking her to the sidewalk. She landed with a hard thud. A man scrambled out before I could reach her. He scooped her up and shoved her in the back seat as I was across the sidewalk in a blur, slamming against him. But he was too big and burly for me to unbalance, even though I was a Theosian and already stronger than most of my classmates.

“You want to come, too, little one?” he said in a low voice, gripping my wrist with one hand. He lifted me up and tossed me in with my mother as if I were a bag of old clothes. I landed on top of her and rolled away, trying not to hurt her.

The next moment, the door slammed shut and he slid into the front seat. I started to scream, but with the windows closed, I realized nobody could hear me. At this time of night, there was almost no traffic down in the Metalworks.

“Mom? Mom!” I turned my attention to my mother, trying to wake her up, but either he had hit her really hard or he had managed to drug her when I wasn’t looking, because she wasn’t coming around. At that moment, he flipped a switch and a window rose between the front and back seats.

Unable to wake Marlene, I tried the doors again, but the handles had been removed. The car had been retrofitted so that the backseat was basically a holding tank.

I closed my eyes, trying to summon Hecate, but nothing happened. There was no spark when I reached for it. Next, I tried to sense my mother’s spirit, but again—nothing.
An anti-magic zone.

Cursing, I rummaged through my backpack, looking for something hard enough to break the window. No luck. But then I remembered my mother carried a small hammer in her purse. It was a multi-tool that she carried because of her job. I grabbed her purse, found the tool, and began to pound on the side windows.

Four blows later, I realized the glass was shatterproof, so I started working on the window separating us from the driver.

He glanced in the rearview mirror, scowling, and I realized he was actually driving the car—it wasn’t an automatic. Very few people bothered to learn how to pilot machinery anymore. He casually flipped a switch and his growling voice filtered into the backseat.

“Put it away, girl. That won’t do you any good. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.” At that point, he flashed me a sick smile as we turned down a dark street on the outskirts of Darktown. Crap. We were headed toward the Junk Yard.

The Junk Yard.

A huge, gated enclosure that ran twenty blocks long by twenty blocks wide, the walls were made of reinforced steel. In the distant past, the Junk Yard had been used to corral refugees from the South American Mas-Lian jungle. They had fled from Carpaxia, a corporatocracy determined to grab as much land as they could.

The refugees were Jagulins, a shape-shifting race with the ability to shift into big cats. As the armies of Carpaxia swept through their country, razing their forests to use for agriculture, the Jagulins fled to any country that would take them. But the Regent of Seattle had made one big mistake. The steel walls didn’t set well with the Jagulins. They were uncomfortable enclosed by concrete and metal, and soon, they had moved on to other places, leaving the compound empty.