So much for order. A crack of thunder rattled windows and made the blown glass items shelved around the room shiver.
“The...uh...there’s a problem.” Crow’s gaze fixed on me. He was sweating, a sheen across his forehead and upper lip. His eyes held an emotion I was pretty sure was fear.
I’d never seen him look this way before.
Never.
“It’s okay.” My instincts went red alert. “We’ll figure it out. What’s the problem?”
“The...uh...the...powers?”
I didn’t know why he was asking me something about the powers. He had them. Locked up in the old furnace in the back corner of his shop. Once a year, all the god powers got moved to a new keeper. That person was always a god, and since the stored powers moved around, even the strongest rivals couldn’t complain about some god unfairly having say over where their power was, and how it was being guarded.
“I know of them,” I said dryly.
“They’re sort of...” he shrugged.
“What does that mean? Use your words.”
Twin droplets of sweat traced downward from his temples. His clenched smile looked like it would crack a molar.
“How about you show me?” I suggested.
He nodded, stiff as a shadow puppet, before he walked off to the furnace.
“It’s...not as bad as it looks.” His hand hesitated on the latch.
“Just open the oven, Crow.”
“I called you.” As if making that point was important. “I called everyone as soon as I realized.”
“Realized what?”
He pulled the old metal door open, hinges grinding.
The furnace was empty. Cold. No god powers flickered there like flames made of crushed stars. No god powers sang there in the voices and orchestras only I seemed to be able to hear.
The furnace that should be filled to roaring with the power of each and every deity in this room was empty.
“Where are they?” I said into the hush. “Where are all the powers?”
Crow shook his head. “I have no idea.”
~~~
Little known fact: a room full of angry gods sounds a lot like a bingo hall fight. There was a lot of finger-pointing, insults, charges of cheating, grudges, moral lapses, and bad fashion choices. None of it had anything to do with the matter at hand.
“Enough!” I yelled from near the empty furnace. Crow was hiding behind me.
Coward.
Not that I was much of a shield against a couple dozen pissed off deities, but frankly, I was probably the only one in the room who didn’t want him dead.
“Let’s take this one step at a time. First, can any of you sense where your power is?”
A few of them shook their heads. A couple got far-off looks in their eyes as if they were trying to unsuccessfully pull up an old memory.
“No one?” I asked.
Zeus, who was dark-haired, tan-skinned, and kept his goatee trimmed and gelled, lifted one hand, long fingers spread. He was dressed in an elegant charcoal suit that probably cost more than I could get for my Jeep. He ran a high fashion and fancy decor shop for clientele who liked that sort of thing. Even here in this little beachside vacation town on the edge of Oregon, he did brisk business.
“Let me explain,” he began, and I braced for a lecture. “Each of us knows that our powers are here. Within the boundaries of Ordinary.” He didn’t stop and look around the room, but I did.
No one nodded, but they weren’t arguing either.
Progress.
I gave Odin the eye. He always argued with Zeus. But even he was silent, thick lips pressed in a tight, thin line.
His silence sent a roll of dread through my stomach. When Zeus and Odin weren’t arguing, things were really going to the dogs.
“We know the powers are still together,” Zeus continued. He took a breath, considering what to say next. “But without breaking the contract we have all signed to become citizens in Ordinary, there is no more we can do to find our powers.”
The only deity who seemed minutely surprised by that was Death, who simply made a small, curious sound in the back of his throat.
Yeah, I had the contract memorized too. There was no drawing upon god power for any reason, for any emergency, life, death, or otherwise while the deity remained within the confines of Ordinary. When a god wanted his or her power back, that transfer was handled by a member of the Reed family. Specifically, me.
And once that power was picked up, the deity was required to leave Ordinary for a full year, no backsies.
That’s when it clicked. Someone in this room had broken that rule and remained in town even though he’d pulled on his power.
I glared at Crow. “How did you do it?”
“Do what?” His eyes darted everywhere but my face. “I didn’t steal the powers. Why would I steal them when I already had them? My power is gone too. I don’t know where they are. I didn’t do anything!”
His voice went up and up. I’d never seen him this freaked out.
“You have to believe me, Delaney.” He wiped his hand over his mouth and finally, his gaze met mine. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
I could feel the anger, the frustration of all the people in the room like a dozen palms flat against my back, pressing me forward, pressing in to crush Crow.
I squared my shoulders and took a breath to calm down. Being angry wasn’t going to solve anything. What I needed were facts, options, and action.
And maybe some back up. I considered calling in Myra and Jean. Between the three of us we should be able to keep this gathering from turning into a bloodbath.
Or maybe I should hide Crow somewhere like in a holding cell before the gods put two-and-two together and realized that just because Crow was a trickster and his power had certain flexibility when it came to rule-following, his actions had started these dominos tumbling.
“Raven,” Odin grumbled, using Crow’s god name, “Answer her.”
“I thought I did.” Crow’s wide eyes asked for my forgiveness. For my mercy.
It was hard to see him like this, my friend. My almost-uncle. Even though he was technically more related to the gods in the room than he was to me, I was the only shield between him and the casually—creatively—vengeful deities at my back.
“Facts,” I said in my calmest police chief voice. “Let’s start there, okay?”
Crow nodded.
“Three months ago, you picked up your power to help me find Cooper Clark so that I could give him Heimdall’s power.”
“Yes.”
“The other gods who picked up their power to help me find Cooper were Hera and Thor.”
“Yes.”
“Hera and Thor left town for a year, according to the contract.” As if to punctuate that statement, thunder thumped across the sky, rattling windows and shelves.
“Yes,” Crow whispered.
“You came back to town. You gave your power back into hiding. You broke the rules.”
For the first time that day, I saw something other than fear on his handsome face. His eyebrows dipped and his mouth twisted a sideways smile. “Broke is kind of strong...bent, maybe?”
“Broke is exactly strong enough. Because it’s the truth. That’s the thing that is the opposite of what you usually do.”