“Then tell him,” I begged.
“Tell him I’m researching a prophecy predicting his demise at the hands of his own child? Are you crazy? We’d be better off telling him we’re having an affair.”
True. I might survive, especially if I agreed to a threesome. “I am impressed you managed to convince the king of Atlantis to let the cruise visit his city island.”
Gaia smirked. “I said ‘Tsunami,’ and Rexxie said, ‘Anything you’d like, Goddess.’ It took them centuries to recover from the last time I wiped them out for being disrespectful.”
“Here’s to hoping we find a copy of the prophecy.” Because it was missing from Hell’s library. Every mention of it had been wiped out. Yet I knew it existed because I’d seen it once, a long, long time ago. The day a certain witch had come to see me as a matter of fact.
That meeting didn’t end well, and the book had gone off for restoration. It never returned. Disappeared, all trace of it gone. I’d been searching for it ever since. Never found the original, but I did run into a rumor. An ancient Mesopotamian god who never left his cave told me to check the library in Atlantis.
Problem was getting there. For centuries, the city had been hidden under the ocean.
“That old story probably has nothing to do with my precious baby,” Gaia said, wringing her hands. “But I have to be sure. Have you seen the petition circulating about Damian’s title?”
I had. Someone had started a campaign to have Lucifer’s son declared a simple dark prince. They claimed he couldn’t be the Antichrist since he had been born in wedlock, a product of loving and willing parents. The followers of the End of Times, who expected one day to be led by the Antichrist, demanded a true Son of Perdition. One achieved during a proper ravishment of a mortal woman during a dark rite involving blood sacrifice.
Lucifer might have agreed if Mother Nature hadn’t promised castration if she caught him screwing around on her.
Needless to say, the devil chose to ignore the petition and obey his wife.
“Not all prophecies come to pass,” I reminded Gaia.
After all, the one about her daughter predicted she’d also bring about the apocalypse. Instead, Muriel had settled down with a few men—four at last count, although there were wagers a fifth would be coming. Lucifer’s daughter even had a kid and was disgustingly suburban—Lucifer’s words, not mine. He’d said the fact that she had orgies with her four men was the only reason he’d not disowned her for leading such a normal, happy life.
“I am aware that some prophecies shift over time. Actions have reactions. But something’s nagging me about this one.” Gaia worried, and the flowers in her crown wilted.
“Is this because of that meme being passed around Snaphell and Hellbook?” It showed the nebulous figure of the Antichrist standing on the bodies of his parents and crushing the Earth in his fist while chuckling darkly.
“Damian would never kill me.” I noticed how she didn’t include Lucifer in that assertion. Too many predictions said the devil would die by the hand of his son.
“Damian is but a small child with many years ahead of him to decide what kind of man he’ll be. One shaped by you and his father.”
She groaned. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I swear, I don’t know how Muriel turned out so good in Lucifer’s care.”
“Maybe she turned out fine because he’s a good dad?” It sounded wrong to even say it.
Gaia’s nose wrinkled. “Does a good father threaten to feed his child to the hellhounds if he shits through his nappy one more time?”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t.” Not my most reassuring statement.
“He’d better not. But I don’t need Luc finding any more excuses to eliminate Damian. Which is why you need to find that prophecy for me. To debunk it before my husband finds it.”
“This would have been easier and faster if you’d just snapped your fingers and taken me to Atlantis for a peek,” I grumbled.
“I would have, but they installed some kind of dampener since my last visit.”
“Can’t whirl your way in?”
“No,” she said, sounding most disgruntled. “The nerve of that king, spelling Atlantis against me.”
“Join me when we dock there in a few days and show them who’s boss.”
Gaia shook her head. “I am tempted but shouldn’t. There is something wrong with that island. A lack of connection to the land, my land, weakens me.”
I had a theory about that. “It’s because Atlantis was built almost entirely from the sea.”
She grimaced. “And the ocean depths, including its denizens, belong to the Neptune family. But who helped them build those kelp farms and created those pretty-colored corals? Me. Yet I don’t get any credit.” Gaia scowled, and somewhere, a tornado probably tore up a few trees.
“Utterly unfair,” I agreed.
“I should get going. The baby will wake soon.” A good mother, Gaia didn’t leave home for long these days, given Damian proved to be a demanding son of the devil. Like father, like the child of his loins. Gaia spoiled the boy rotten, and thus far, no one had dared interfere. There were, however, wagers on just how bad the little prince would become.
“I can’t keep doing these favors for you,” I reiterated, not for the first time.
Her smile caused butterflies to burst free from the cascade of her hair and flit around the room in a riot of brightness. “I do so appreciate it. You are the best librarian there is. The one most suited to finding secrets. And keeping them.”
Flattery. Even an old demon wasn’t immune.
“I am only doing it because I’ve never seen the Atlantis library.” Nobody had since it sank. What kind of wonders did it hold? Ancients secrets. The best kind.
“Be sure to report to me the moment you locate something.”
“What if there’s nothing to find?”
“I’m sure you’ll finagle an interesting tidbit. If you do, I’ll grant you a boon.”
“Better be a good one.” Because if Lucifer found out that I was working with his wife, I’d be feeding the hounds.
“Oh, it’s good.” Gaia winked. “You’ll soon see. Now, I must be off. Have fun.”
“Doubtful.”
“Ah, yes, the nephew thing.” She knew right away the source of my turned-down lips. “I wouldn’t worry too much. I have a feeling things will work themselves out.”
“Really?” A goddess alluding to the future? Truth, or telling me what I wanted to hear so I wouldn’t be distracted from her task? I didn’t doubt for one moment that she’d manipulate me if it suited her purposes.
Rather than clarify her statement, Gaia said, “You should get yourself a drink. I hear the piña coladas are especially nice when sipped on the fifth-level deck.” With that advice, she swirled out of sight.
I went looking for a cocktail. The day needed some alcohol.
I almost choked on a candied cherry—because the colada came decked out and frothy—when I heard her voice. “Hello, Shax. It’s been a long time.”
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