Breath of Divinity

If the mansion’s exterior was superb, it was nothing compared to the inside. The hallways were lined with a magnificent red-and-gold carpet with silver trimming and crystal chandeliers glittered above them, dappling the floor with sparkles of white light. Two polished, mahogany staircases wound around the living room walls, leading to the upper rooms, each of which seemed to be larger than Tim’s whole house. Even the furniture, made of meticulously crafted white velvet, seemed to gleam in the chandelier light.

Jonathan, Timothy and Haley roamed through the halls, taking in the sights, while Tim filled Haley in on the details. Apparently she had not been told a single thing by her mother and father.

The Gibsons were rather cold and stern-looking, and seemed to appreciate the situation as much as Jonathan’s father had. They had instructed the kids to look around, which Tim understood to mean “the adults need to talk, clear out.” While they walked Tim recounted everything that had happened since the moment the Whitmores’ broken down vehicle sputtered into view. Haley, for her part, was a good listener. She allowed Tim the chance to speak uninterrupted, her only interjections being appropriately timed gasps.

When finally Tim was done, Haley spoke, her voice low and disbelieving. “You guys do realize how insane all of this sounds, don’t you?”

Jonathan scoffed. “You’re telling us? We rode here, across the sky, on a horse made of air. I literally had claw marks all across my chest until five minutes ago.” To drive the point home he lifted his blood-stained shirt to show his abdomen, where, sure enough, the skin had completely healed over. The only evidence that he had been injured at all were the splotches of blood left over. “I think we’re very past ‘insane’ at this point.”

They paused, all three of them looking in different directions.

“So we’re all siblings?” Haley asked.

“That’s what they told us,” said Tim.

“And we’re all gods?”

“Pretty much,” Jonathan answered.

“But… gods of what, exactly?”

Tim opened his mouth to respond and closed it almost immediately. He had never even thought to ask, and judging by the look on Jonathan’s face, neither had he.

“Erm…”

“All the questions you asked them earlier and that one didn’t come up once?”

“In our defense they probably wouldn’t have told us anyway.”

“Plus we were trying to avoid being eaten alive by a murderous cat monster,” Jonathan added.

“Sounds like you guys had a pretty eventful afternoon. Meanwhile the most interesting thing that happened to me today is seeing an otter do a backflip on the way into town. I don’t know why my parents wouldn’t tell me anything, they just told me to pack a bag and jumped in the car. I tried asking them and they shut me down every time. And… well, you just met them. You can probably imagine, it’s not that easy arguing with them.”

“Maybe they’re just waiting for the whole gang to get here,” said Tim. “Apparently there are two more mystery siblings out there.”

“What’s that?” asked Jonathan suddenly. He was pointing at Haley’s hand, where a thin, silver bangle was gleaming at her wrist, studded with what looked like real diamonds.

“Oh this? It was a birthday gift.”

“How long have you had it?”

Haley screwed up her face, as if trying to remember the exact date. “I can’t remember when I got it exactly, but I know I’ve had it since I was a kid. At this point I don’t think there was ever a time I wasn’t wear… wearing it…” She paused as comprehension dawned on her face, her eyes moving from Tim’s glasses to Jonathan’s ring, and her jaw slowly fell open. “You don’t think this is…?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“He said your god name was ‘Iduna.’ Hold up the bracelet and say that name,” Tim said.

“That’s crazy. You think that’s actually going to work?”

“Would it hurt to try?”

“Most likely,” Haley said. There was a short pause, then she said, “Fine, let’s do it.” While they watched, Haley slid the bangle from her wrist. She took a deep breath and breathed the word, “‘Iduna.’”

As they had expected, the object began to glow. But unlike the brilliant blue of Jonathan's ring, or the violent red of Tim's, this time it was a piercing silver, like a ray of purest moonlight. When the light died down, Haley was no longer holding her bangle. Instead it had melted into twin tessen fans, with heavy metal spokes protruding from the edges and ribs made of the same green-grey metal, Brightsteel.

“Wow,” Haley whispered, unfolding the fans and examining them. The ribs were decorated with patterns of different flowers: cherry blossoms, daffodils and roses.

“Fans?” Jonathan asked, reaching out to rub his finger against one of the spokes. “Ow!” He yanked his hand back immediately, flashing his finger. “I barely touched it!” he said furiously, holding up his index finger, where a dot of blood had pooled up.

“Okay, definitely a keeper,” said Haley, her bright brown eyes widened in amazement.

“So does that mean you believe us?” Tim asked.

Haley looked up at them, expression caught somewhere between reluctance and wonder. “I mean, come on… Even with this it’s still a hard pill to swallow. Gods and monsters, magic, finding out you have four siblings after being told you were an only child for over a decade.”

“Tell me about it,” muttered Timothy. “I mean, it’s never really torn me up inside, but I do admit the idea of having siblings is pretty interesting.”

“Really?” Jonathan asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah. Have you never thought about it?”

“Nope,” he replied, with no hesitation. “Not once in sixteen years. As much as I give my dad a hard time, we’ve only had each other for ten years. Aside from my mom, that was really all I ever needed.”

Despite the fact that Jonathan clearly didn’t mean any ill intent by his words, Tim felt rather stung. He knew he had every right to feel that way, but hearing the words spoken aloud still felt like a blow to the gut. He racked his brain, trying to think of something to say to break the awkward silence, but he was spared the trouble of answering by his phone’s ring tone suddenly filling the enormous hallway.

Though he had finally gotten past the shock of what had happened a few hours ago, his heart began to pound again.

He turned down the hall and swiped the answering button. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank God.” His mother’s voice, breathless with relief and sounding close to tears, answered. “Tim, are you okay? I’ve been so worried. Alan left me a million voicemails but I was stuck in the ER, three surgeries back to back, I didn’t even get a chance to pick up my phone until now. What happened when you were home today? Did you get to the safehouse all right? Was anyone injured? Did you see any monsters —”

“Mom, I’m fine,” Tim said, letting out a small laugh. Somehow hearing her so nerve-wracked was actually helping to calm him down. “We all got to the safehouse okay. We were attacked on the way but we managed to get out fine — well, mostly fine.

“You should have seen it, Mr. Whitmore was amazing. He used a shotgun to hold the creature off, and I managed to take it down with my glasses, it transformed into this massive hammer. Sytris showed up after that and brought us to the safehouse.”

“Oh God,” she said. “Tim I’m so, so sorry. This was never how you should have found out, you deserved to hear the truth a long time ago. I’m sorry we never told you, but we just thought… you were so happy. You would have been crushed to find out that the place you came from was destroyed, or that you had family out there you could never meet.”

“It’s fine, Mom. Really.” Tim found it much easier to lie to her than he normally would have, although it still weighed heavy on his chest.

“Listen, I’m on my way up there right now. It’s just another few hours’ drive. And I told your father too, he’s taking the first flight back tomorrow morning.”

“That’s good to hear,” Tim said, and he truly meant it. “But are you going to be okay? What if another monster shows up while you’re on the way?”

“Don’t worry about us. Sytris warned us what we would be getting into twelve years ago, and he told us a few ways to protect ourselves. Just worry about yourself for now, okay?”

“Okay.”

His mother took several deep, steadying breaths. “Oh, my battery’s about to die, I have to go. But before that, tell me what are they like? Your — your siblings?”

Tim was smiling from ear to ear now. “They’re pretty cool. I’ve only met Jon and Haley so far, but they’re okay.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I knew they were in good hands, the Gibsons and the Whitmores were so nice. So were the Combses. It’s the Medinas I was worried about. I don’t want to badmouth your brother’s family, but they were a little eccentric to put it nicely. Honestly I wondered… but if Sytris thought they were a good fit, who am I to judge?”

“Why? What are the Medinas like?”

“Oh you’ll see,” she said, and for the first time there was a hint of amusement in her voice now. “I have to go, Tim. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too.”

The line disconnected. It was a moment before Tim realized he was still smiling at his phone. As he was stowing it in his pocket, footsteps heralded Jonathan’s return. He jammed his thumb back down the corridor they had come. “New arrivals,” he said.

A flush of interest suffused Tim’s whole being. Were these the last two siblings? How would they react to the situation? What were the Medinas like?

He, Haley and Jonathan headed back upstairs, where they could hear voices in the living room. A girl with black hair held up by a decorative hairclip stood at the front of the small group, looking around. She was pretty, but she was wearing an expression of unease and skepticism. Beside her stood a tall boy with curly black hair, who in stark contrast looked completely at ease. A little too at ease, Tim noticed. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he saw that the boy’s eyes looked rather red.

Between them stood Sytris, a woman with scraggly, unkempt, blonde hair and a man with a badly styled mullet, who was wearing a similar expression to the boy. Tim had a strong feeling these were the Medinas.

Mr. Gibson, a short man with a head of greying hair and what seemed to be a permanent scowl, opened his mouth to speak but didn’t get a single word out.

As if on cue, Tim’s glasses suddenly lit up again, blazing scarlet. It really was extraordinarily inconvenient how a tool that was supposed to improve his eyesight kept trying to blind him. He hastily pulled it from his face and saw, although his vision was less clear than before, Jonathan’s ring litup, pulsing sapphire. The girl who had entered with Sytris whipped her head around and pulled off her hairclip, which was glowing bright emerald; Haley’s bangle flickered silver; and an ornate necklace at the boy’s throat started flickering violet. It continued for a few seconds, then all five objects fell still.

“The last time that happened a giant cat tried to maul me afterwards,” Jonathan said.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe this time. This house isn’t just aesthetically pleasing, you know. It’s imbued with layers upon layers of magical safeguards,” Sytris said. “The only things that can cross these borders are what we want to.” He looked around and his eyes came to focus on Mr. Gibson, who was glaring at him. “Hello Charles,” he said pleasantly.

“’Hello’? That’s all you have to say?” barked Mr. Gibson. “I thought you told us we were fine? That we wouldn’t have to worry about any of this as long as we laid low and kept moving? Now you decide to pop up out of the blue and turn our lives upside down?”

“You make it sound as if this was intentional,” Sytris said, an eyebrow raised. “I warned you years ago that this was always a possibility. No matter how many precautions you took, there was always a chance that we would end up right back here.”

“And how did we end up here, exactly?” the girl with the hairclip asked. “I thought you said all five groups took every measure possible to stay out of each other’s way?”

“True, but some things are simply beyond our control. No matter how hard we tried, if this was Destiny’s will there was no way to avoid it. All we could do was delay it. But however it happened, it did. Pandora’s box has been opened and there’s no shutting it now. The only thing we can do is prepare ourselves for what is coming.”

Mr. Gibson scoffed. “Prepare ourselves for what? Our funerals?”

“I agree with Charles,” Mr. Whitmore said. “As surprising as that is. You said these Harbingers killed their parents. Other gods who were far more experienced and powerful than they are, how could they possibly stand a chance? Be reasonable, Sytris.”

“I am being reasonable, and the answer is quite plain: they work together. With their gifts, and my tutelage, I believe they can triumph.”

Mr. Gibson threw up his hands and raised his eyes to the heavens, as if saying, “Here we go again.”

Sytris ignored this. “I believe in them. They’re young, intelligent, powerful, and they have one of the strongest bonds to ever exist. The bond of family —”

“We’re a family,” Mr. Gibson said, gesturing at his wife. “Us and our daughter, Haley.”

“She was never your daughter,” Sytris said, and his voice was suddenly as cold as a midnight draft. The room fell silent. “Iduna is the daughter of Cyclomene, goddess of ice and snow, and Razen, god of the morning sky. I asked you” — he turned, speaking to the room at large now — “to keep watch over these children, to nurture and guide them, and to protect them. And you agreed. But they were never your children. And when I explained this to you twelve years ago, you said you understood. Clearly I was lied to.”

Mr. Whitmore and the Gibsons stared daggers at him. The Medinas, however, looked as if they were unsure where they even were or why they were there.

“Don’t we get a say in this?” asked the girl with the hairclip.

“Certainly, M’lady.” Sytris turned to her at once, his aggressive expression melting at once into polite formality.

The girl made a noise of displeasure in her throat, but continued nonetheless. “I don’t think it’s fair to say they’re not our parents. They may not be our birth parents, but they’re still our parents. They’re the ones who raised us, who looked out for us, who taught us right from wrong —” At this she glanced at the Medinas and hesitated. “Well, most of us. And above all else, they love us. Having the same blood makes you related, but it doesn’t automatically make you family.”

Sytris was frowning at her, but not as if he was angry with her. He looked confused, as if he hadn’t expected her to take such a stance. Silence descended once more, but Mr. Whitmore was actually smiling at the girl now.

“I believe,” Sytris said, and he spoke as though the words cost him a great effort, “that we should respect all perspectives in this argument. Which means we should resume this conversation when the Bryants and Combses arrive tomorrow. Their views deserve to be heard as well.”

“And what happens if they agree with her too?” asked Jonathan.

“Then we shall cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I suppose some introductions are in order. This is your elder sister, Lady Mnemosyne,” he said, pointing to the girl with the hairclip, who shot him a furious look. “Er — who prefers to be addressed by her mortal name, Lauren Combs. This is Lord Nokk, otherwise known as Oscar Medina.

“And these,” he said, extending his hand to the other three, “are Lord Lenos, Lady Iduna, and Lord Orus. Also known as Timothy Bryant, Haley Gibson, and Jonathan Whitmore.”

“Hi,” Tim said. Jonathan nodded and Haley smiled. Lauren returned a small wave, but Oscar actually moved forward and seized each of them in a brief, one-armed hug, clapping their shoulders. If the red eyes and dopey smile weren’t enough of a giveaway, the smell of smoke on his clothes certainly was.

“I have a question,” Haley said, once the introductions were done. “You said we were gods, but gods of what?”

“I was about to come to that,” Sytris said, clapping his hands. “Funnily enough, in our land your heritage has almost no bearing on what powers one is born with. Every god, and their dominion, is different. Lord Nokk, would you mind?”

Oscar headed over to him, his silly grin still in place. Sytris whispered something to him while everyone else watched on, skeptical. Finally Oscar straightened up, and his smile was even wider than ever. Tim recoiled, stunned, as he noticed that his hands were now glowing, strands of purple energy billowing from his fingers. First he pointed at Jonathan. The energy streamed from his hands, accumulating over the top of Jonathan’s head. He looked up, looking slightly alarmed. The energy took shape, forming a ball of white light like a miniature sun.

“Oh, I get it. It’s a clue,” said Mr. Medina, speaking for the first time in a completely dazed voice.

Jonathan inclined his head at the ball, scrutinizing it. “God of… the sun? Wait no… God of light?”

Sytris nodded, smiling.

The glowing orb dissipated and the energy reformed over Haley’s head. An image of a forest appeared, full of luscious trees, various animals and an array of colourful flowers.

“Nature?” Haley asked.

Mrs. Gibson nodded at her, although her father still looked displeased. Once again the vision transitioned, this time coming to hover over Timothy’s head. It was a little bronze figure, running so fast its legs were blurred. Tim stared at it, cocking his head from side to side. He remembered the fight a few hours before, when he had been running towards the cat creature. How it had seemed so far away, then only a moment later was directly in front of him.

“God of… god of speed?” he asked.

Oscar gave him a thumbs up, then turned at last to Lauren. Above her head was an image that looked as if it had been ripped from an old movie. It was a grey and white vision of a family sitting around a small table, their faces indistinct. The others had been somewhat straightforward, but this one gave absolutely no hints away. Judging by the others’ faces, they weren’t having much luck either. Lauren, however, was gazing into the scene, completely absorbed…

“Memory,” she said softly. “This is a memory, right?”

Sytris nodded, his smile wider than ever.

“How the heck did you get memory from that?” Jonathan said.

“I just…” Lauren looked around at them, her expression anxious. “Lucky guess?”

That absolutely wasn’t the case, Tim thought. But he couldn’t see why Lauren would feel the need to lie.

Before anyone could say anything else, Sytris spoke again. “And, I’m sure you may all have guessed by now, Lord Nokk is the god of illusions. You may also have noticed he seems quite adept at the use of his powers, despite none of you having the slightest bit of knowledge of your own. It seems Oscar’s parents were quite open about your previous experiences.” His gaze shifted to the Medinas, his expression caught somewhere between disapproval and amusement.

“In this house you have no need to conceal your magical identities, which means you’re free to remove the items restricting your powers. Once you do, your own abilities should surface shortly after. Tomorrow you can test your limits freely. For now, I suppose it’s your bedtime.”