Cole's Haunting Melody (The Gods' Executioner Series) (2 page)

I walk around Inti’s desk, open up the second drawer on the left side, and pull off the item taped beneath it. It’s an envelope with my name written in large block text on the top of it. On the back of the envelope is a golden seal imprinted with an Incan headdress.

“Not to be opened until he knows the truth.”
Is written above and below the seal.

I stick
my finger underneath the lip of the envelope, slide it along, and break the seal. I’m vaguely aware of my helmet engaging just before a pulse of gold washes over my body. Okay, that was weird.

“Cole, are you alright?” Tia
asks in a hushed tone as she walks into the room a few seconds later.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just opening up this letter and I assume that I activated some sort of spell when I broke the seal.” I explain.

“Yeah, basically this entire room was rigged with those spells. It’s supposed to knock you out and make you forget recent events when activated. Eric set them up to keep you or Chezarei from accidentally discovering the existence of the supernatural before you were ready. So what’s in the envelope?” Tia inquires.

“It holds the key to the house where Cheza’s parents lived
. That’s where I’m taking her.” I reply.

“Why? That hardly seems a fitting place for a vacation.” Tia says.

“I have something that I need to tell her… something that she deserves to know.”

‘and I couldn’t think of a better place to tell her than the place where I first started irreparably
fucking up her life,’ I decide not to add. I open up the envelope and pull out the letter, finding a key taped to the bottom.

Cole,

If you’re reading this, then you are aware of what you really are; and I have most likely rejoined the Void. This is the key to the house where Chezarei lived with her family near Lake Baikal, in Russia. Please, take Chezarei there so that she can hopefully regain something of what was lost; something of what I took from her. The coordinates are as follows: 54N, 108.78E

—Uncle Eric

I remove the key and put it into my pocket. Using my left hand, I smear some blood on the letter and then I transmute that blood into acetylene. The paper is almost instantly incinerated, and then Tia and I leave Inti’s office.

“Cole, why did
n’t you tell me that we were going to Russia? It’s October so it’s going to be freezing!” Cheza complains.

“Cheza, we’re going to Russia, pack warm clothing.”
I warn her in retrospect fashion. Cheza gives me an annoyed look in response.

“Can you please finish packing? I’d like to leave as soon as possible…” I say while
staring at my shoes.

“Okay…”
Cheza quietly replies. She caresses my cheek, brings my face towards her, and brushes her lips against mine.

I return to my room, grab my duffle bag, head into the living room, and sit on the couch to wait for Cheza.
Cheza understands me; she understands that I can’t be in a place where everything reminds me of Addie. Cheza understands me… which is why I can’t afford to lose her, but I can’t keep this a secret from her…

“
Are you ready to go?” Cheza gently asks, coming out from her room with her suitcase in tow.

“Yeah…
let’s go.” I reply, hoisting my duffle bag over my shoulder.

Cheza wraps
her hand in mine and I touch the triskele on my left shoulder blade, porting us to the frozen forest that Inti ported to eleven years ago.

Chapter 3: A Possible Mistake

“So where are we going?” Cheza asks as she struggles to pull her suitcase through the snow. I grab her suitcase, lift it up, and place it on my shoulder, holding it like a boom box
in the 80’s.

“Someplace that holds a truth that few people know.” I mumble.

“What?” Cheza asks.

“Never mind; it isn’t too far.”
I tell her.

Cheza stops asking questions and lets her concerned silence hang in the air. We continue walking through the frozen forest, the cottony crunch of the snow benea
th our feet being the only ambient noise, and the moon being the only source of light. The cabin comes into view and I make a beeline towards it… that’s an expression that I’ve never understood; when’s the last time that you saw a bee fly in a straight line? You know, besides when it was part of a swarm trying to kill you.

“Cole…
this cabin… it’s…” Cheza says as I slide the key into the lock and open the door.

“Quaint…”
Cheza adds with uncertainty as I set our luggage down near the door.

The cabin is relatively small; there’s a small loft area that holds a full-sized bed that is accessed via ladder
in front of us; to the left there is a small kitchen area with a table and an old-fashioned iron stove; last, there is a brick fireplace with a fur rug in front of it to the right.

“That’s it? It doesn’t remind you of anything?” I ask.

“No, should it?” Cheza inquires, slightly perplexed.

“No…
It’s pretty cold in here so I’ll get a fire started. I’ll be right back.” I tell Cheza and step outside.

The icy wind
picks up and berates my exposed flesh as I pull the cabin door shut. I zip my jacket up, thankful that my exposed left arm can’t feel the cold. I walk around the perimeter of the cabin, looking for a wood shed, which I don’t find. I decide that the next best thing is to make some firewood myself. A suitable pine tree is only about twenty feet from the cabin. I punch through the trunk of the tree with my left arm, shooting splinters in most directions. The tree thuds softly into the snow; I drag it back towards the cabin and beat the tree into wood chips of various sizes. I gather up the wood chips in my arms and carry them inside the cabin.

“I thought you were getting firewood?” Cheza questions when she sees my armload of splintered tree.

“There isn’t a wood shed or any firewood that I could see so I punched a tree down.” I reply and dump my armload into the fireplace. I flip the lever near the mantel to open up the flue for the chimney.

“That isn’t going to light since the wood is wet…” Cheza says, slightly condescendingly.

“We’ll see about that!” I say as I grab a box of matches from the mantle of the fireplace. I kneel down, light a match, hold it up to a wood chip, and see that it isn’t going to light.

“See?” Cheza says, definitely condescending this time.

I stare at her defiantly as I drip a few drops of my blood into the fire place with my left hand. I stand and take a few steps toward Cheza, my eyes never leaving hers, and I snap my fingers. Acetylene, which burns at about six thousand degrees, just laughs at the wet wood’s efforts to not catch on fire. We have a crackling fire seconds later as I smirk at Cheza.

“See?” I tell her.

“Alright, master survivalist; what do we do for lunch… or rather dinner considering what time it is here?” Cheza asks.

“Do you know how to cook rabbits?” I inquire in a serious fashion. Cheza looks at me in horror.

“Haha fine; I’ll port someplace and get food. What do you want?” I ask.

“Not little bunny foo foo…” Cheza quietly
says.

“It was a joke Chez
a. As much as I seem to enjoy flaying people, I wasn’t looking forward to skinning rabbits. How about pizza?” I suggest.

“I’m fine with that…
just cheese though…” Cheza replies.

“Sure.”
I warmly reply. I didn’t think my joke about the rabbits was going to freak her out so much.

“Um, Cole?
What do we do about a bathroom?” Cheza shyly asks.

“Uh…” I answer
.

(Closet door in the
right hand corner)

I walk over and open the door to find that there is a small, airplane sized bathroom. The toilet even seems to work through some kind of suction instead of water; smart idea considering that pipes
must freeze quite often over here.

“Problem solved!” I announce triumphantly.

“Well at least this place has plumbing…” Cheza mumbles.

“Alright, I’m going to go grab a pizza. I’ll be right back.” I tell her.

I think of the Colloseum and port to Rome. In retrospect, it probably would have been a better idea to bring Cheza so we could have done some sightseeing and the whole tourist thing; perhaps I’ll bring her here tomorrow. The Colloseum is towering over me as the sun sets over the Italian skyline. Thankfully, no one seems to have noticed me port in; I go about looking for a pizza parlor. I head down an alley, following my sense of smell towards food.

A
man suddenly comes out of nowhere and steps in front of me. He is around 6’4”, has wavy brown locks that are probably around six inches long, five o’clock shadow, violet-grey colored eyes, and is wearing an expensive looking Italian suit; the word dapper comes to mind when I see him.

“
Mi scusi.” I politely say, ‘excuse me’ being the only phrase I know in Italian, thanks to the movie
Eurotrip
.

“What is Feros doing in Italy?” the man asks with a light Italian accent. My aura vision kicks on and I see a golden aura, as well as a violet colored lightning bolt tattooed on his right hand,
which I’m fairly certain wasn’t there a second ago.

“I mean you no trouble, your highness, Jupiter
. I am simply here to pick up dinner for my girlfriend and I.” I say with a slight bow; I figure he will correct me if he prefers to be called Zeus.

“Hmm…
you are different than I thought you would be…” Jupiter says, snaps his fingers, and conjures a pizza, a dish of fettuccini alfredo, a bottle of wine, and something wrapped in foil, which I assume is garlic bread. Since he can summon things here, does that mean that all of Rome is considered his domain?

“How did you know I came for pizza?” I ask
as I notice that the violet lightning bolt on his right hand has faded; I imagine that the tattoo might allow him to throw lightning bolts without summoning storms like Illapa had to.

“Because you are American.”
Jupiter nonchalantly replies while handing me the food.

“Well
grazie, your highness. With my goal accomplished, I shall return now.” I politely say with a slight bow, remembering what ‘thank you’ is in Italian.

“Prego. I imagine that we will meet again, Feros.” Jupiter says and disappears.

My first encounter with a Category 4 god and nobody is dead; I’d call that a successful meeting! I port back to the cabin with lunch/ dinner/ midnight snack because of the time in Russia.

“I’m back. So I went to Rome, met Jupiter, got dinner, and nobody was killed!” I cheerfully
announce as I set the food on the small table near the stove.

I turn and see Cheza staring at the cabinet in the left corner, the same one that she was hiding in when her parents were killed. Her eyes are wide as I walk over to her and wrap
my arms around her from behind. Cheza recoils away from me in response; it feels like she just punched me in the stomach.

“Cole, this is…
why did you bring me here?” Cheza asks, her voice cracking.

“Cheza…
I have something to tell you. You might want to sit down.” I calmly say as I take a seat at the table. How much should I tell her? Just the age thing? Or everything?

(If you love her, you will tell her the whole truth)

“Cheza… it’s my fault that you’re like this.” I quietly inform her while avoiding her eyes.

“Cole, what are you talking about?” Cheza asks with concern.

“As you know, Fenrir was your biological father. He sent werewolves to kill your parents and retrieve you. At the same time, my mother was telling Inti to come retrieve you. Inti came here, killed the wolves, and took you from that cabinet when you were two years old. Inti brought you to Saraswati, who then brought you to my mother, who advanced your age by six years so that you would be closer to me in age.” I explain, still refraining from looking at her.

I decide not to tell her about
Inti; after getting screwed over with her biological father, I can’t tell her that her adoptive father is responsible for killing her mother.

“Cole, you can’t blame yourself for that.” Cheza replies.

“But it’s my fault. Cheza, my mother aged you by six years, gave you false memories… and she even overwrought your instincts to make it practically impossible for you to not fall in love with me…” I softly admit.

I sit there
silently while she processes the information.

“I-I need some time…” Cheza quietly responds
about a minute later.

“Can you take me to Natasha’s house?”
Cheza requests.

“Yeah…” I reply
, sounding like something is caught in my throat.

I grab Cheza’s suitcase and then I
gently grab her hand; I feel her fight the urge to recoil away from me. While touching my triskele, I port to Natasha’s apartment. Natasha must be at work because her apartment is empty when we arrive.

“Are you going to be alright here?” I ask as I set Cheza’s luggage down in the entryway.

“Yes…” Cheza quietly replies.

“Cheza?
You know that I love you, right?” I ask her.

“Y-yeah, of course…” Cheza says with uncertainty.

I sadly smile at her and walk out into the hall of Natasha’s penthouse building. Suddenly, I feel my connection with Cheza close; she must’ve had Airi block it… So where do I go now? I can’t go back to the house in Arizona. I can’t go back to Fogquartz. Jason and Reyna are on vacation so I can’t go to Niflheim. I guess I’ll just go back to the cabin. I touch my triskele and port to the cabin, where I sit down to eat the pizza and drink the bottle of wine. After eating, I decide to take a walk through the forest to try and clear my head.

What am I going to do if Cheza decides that she can’t deal with this shit anymore?
I would understand if she wanted to avoid me altogether. I made the right choice… didn’t I?

While contemplating this and walking through the moonlit forest, I come across a circular opening in the trees
. A beam of moonlight shines through the trees and on to two headstones. The writing on the gravestones is in Russian, but given the dates, I think it’s a safe assumption that these are Cheza’s parents’ graves.

“
Hello Chezarei’s mom. Cheza is doing well, you don’t have to worry. I should probably apologize; it’s partially my fault for getting you killed after all.” I say to the headstones. “And now I feel kind of stupid because I just realized that even if you can somehow hear this, you probably don’t speak English… unless the Gift of Tongues counts for information coming from earth as well…”

“As far as I know, it doesn’t.” I hear
a voice with a thick Russian accent say behind me. I look over my shoulder and see a snowman; not the abominable kind, just a regular ‘Frosty’ variety snowman.

“Hello.” The snowman says, his accent making it sound like he
is putting extra emphasis on the ‘e’ in hello.

“AH
! A TALKING SNOWMAN!” I shout as I spin and backhand the snowman. The snowman explodes on contact with my left hand, only to reform from completely different snow about ten feet away.

“That is not nice.
I am god Veles. I came to offer you trade, Feros. If you help me, I will allow your girlfriend to meet her mother.” Veles, the Slavic god of the Underworld and magic, says. Cheza would probably like to meet her mother… it probably won’t be enough to get her to stay, but it will most likely help.

“
What’s to stop me from going to the Nav district and finding Cheza’s mother myself?” I ask.

“Because she is not in
Nav, she is in higher plane of Underworld, Iriy. Like Elysium and Mag Mell, is invitation only plane for outsiders.” Veles tells me. I consider this for a few moments.

“Alright…
what do you want me to do?” I inquire.

“I want your help getting my wife back from
acehole brother Perun.” Veles says; I think he meant asshole, but it certainly sounded like acehole.

“Nope, not falling for that one.
In every story I’ve learned, you stole something from Perun (either his wife, his son, or his cow), resulting in you getting your ass blasted back to the Underworld, which humans in this age hypothesize as being the explanation for the changing of the seasons by ancient Slavs.” I say.