“Where are you going?” Destiny asked.
“To crack the whip onmy elfen.Someone’s got to keep them in line.” She honked, ruffled her feathers, and waddled away, humming the tune of “Here Comes Peter Cottontail.”
“Are you okay?” Destiny scrambled to her feet, her knees nearly buckling beneath her as she stood. “Why do I feel so drained?”
“It’s the iron chains. Fae are allergic to the metal.” Eostre lifted her head, leaning it back against the wall. “I’m sure she enchanted them to hold an angel as well.”
“But my magic is bound.”
The goddess shrugged, wincing with the movement. “I’m afraid she’s gotten help from multiple magical beings. I sensed witchcraft in addition to vampirism, and…” Her lids fluttered. It obviously pained her to talk, but Destiny had so many questions, she couldn’t help but ask them.
“Is that how she trapped you? With witchcraft?”
“No.” Eostre opened her eyes, forcing a sardonic laugh. “She trapped me with trust and my own gullibility. I truly believed she meant to help, to mend our burned bridges. She brought me here under false pretenses and stabbed me with an iron stake. Shock stunned me, and she chained me in my moment of inaction.”
“What a bitch.” Destiny gasped and covered her mouth, a knee-jerk reaction to the unangelic phrases that had been escaping her lips lately, but honestly…? Who cared at this point? She wouldn’t be able to call herself an angel much longer.
Eostre laughed and winced. “What a bitch, indeed.”
Destiny pushed from the wall and moved as close to the goddess as her chains would allow before sinking to all fours. “We need to find a way out of here.”
Eostre coughed. “Look at me. The longer I’m in the earthly realm, the weaker I become. These chains…and this.” She angled her head, exposing the goose-sized bit mark on her neck. “She’s absorbing my power. I’m afraid I’m useless.”
“No, that’s not true. You’re a goddess.”
“Even the gods can’t reign forever. Haven’t you heard of Ragnarök? We will be defeated, all the gods killed. It has been foretold.”
“But that’s just a…”
“Myth?” She scoffed. “Perhaps you’ve been in the earthly realm too long. The people here so easily dismiss other pantheons as myth when the stories and teachings don’t align with their current views.”
“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” Destiny pursed her lips.
“There’s no need to apologize. Ragnarök is coming. Your people will defeat us.”
“My people? I know angels believe your realm is rightfully theirs and they’re ready to take it the second y’all lose balance, but it’s giants who are supposed to kill you.” At least according to the stories she’d heard.
“That part really is a myth, an alteration of the tale made by earthly beings to relieve their current belief system from blame.”
“Well, that…sounds exactly like something people here would do.” Destiny sighed, the weight of her drooping shoulders nearly collapsing her. “But it’s not going to happen on my watch. Angels and fae aren’t so different, you know. I’ll figure out a way for us all to get along, but first, you and I have to get out of here.”
Destiny sat back on her heels. “I know you’re weak, but surely you can still reach out to the ether and send a message.”
“I’ve tried. We’re inside an iron mine. My fae magic can’t break through.” She tilted her head. “But perhaps you…”
Destiny shrugged. “I’ve been unplugged. I don’t have an ounce of angel left unbound.”
Eostre lifted her chin, a hint of the regal goddess she was peeking through her pain. “Try.”
“I have, back home. I can’t even get static.”
“Your situation is much more dire. Try again.”
She was tempted to tell the goddess it was pointless, but for some strange reason, she felt the need to appease her. Well, okay, the reason wasn’t strange. Destiny had always been a people pleaser, but this felt different, like an order she was meant to obey. Whatever enchantment Helga used on the chains was probably making her cuckoo but whatever.
She extended her fingers, pressing her palms together and closing her eyes, trying with all her might to grab a thread of the ether. She might as well have heardding, dong, ding, the number you dialed is no longer in servicebecause she got absolutely nothing.
She dropped her hands into her lap. “Blocked. Unplugged. Disconnected. I’m sorry.”
