The God Wheel Page 15

  You are losing yourself in everything dire and cheerless. You are awash in a sea of the not nice, aren’t you?

  Just look away. Shut my eyes, I told myself.

  Suffer a horror pageant, rubbish mortal.

  A fleet of compact SUVs became mechanized crocodiles. They came at me, their hoods opening and closing as they swept their spacious hatchbacks back and forth like tails. Scarecrows with horrifying faces, their mouths stretched impossibly wide, leapt at me with sharpened chopsticks in their bloody straw fists.

  Something stung my cheek.

  Wasps with the faces of D-list celebrities sprang at me, their stingers at the forefront and dripping with poison.

  I endured a vicious sting to my other cheek. I reached up and rubbed at the injury, shocked at the sheer anguish.

  “Felix, snap out of it.”

  Who was talking to me at a time like this? They should be quaking in their boots or emptying their bladder into their cargo pants, like I was very close to doing.

  Two more blows. These felt more like slaps than oversized insects impaling the winning feature my grandmother enjoyed pinching when I’d been five.

  The nightmare images faded and slipped out of focus.

  “Close your eyes, you idiot!”

  Another slap, this one hard enough to be an honorary punch.

  “Think of something silly to counter Big Ernie. You have to be upbeat.”

  I recognized the voice—Lorna, my girlfriend and fellow champion determined to save the world. I certainly hoped we would. I wanted to eat sushi, ride roller coasters, and make fun of reality stars gone bad with her.

  The nightmares dissolved into twisty plumes of smoke, and I once again looked into the abyss that was Big Ernie’s peepers.

  I tugged my head left and forced my eyes shut before another wave of nightmares exited his definitely-not-soulful orbs.

  Lorna said, “You can keep your eyes open, but just use your peripheral vision to keep tabs on Big Ernie.”

  I opened them a crack and oriented myself. I located Lorna and turned to face her. I could see Big Ernie to my right, just barely. And, truthfully, ‘just barely’ worked fine given that I didn’t want to endure another round of his terror vision. “Thank you.”

  Lorna smiled. “Always.”

  I know why you’re here.

  “The prophecy? Even you got to read it?” I said, breathing through my mouth.

  What? No. I love to eavesdrop. Heard everything. And what you have planned won’t work.

  Lorna executed a series of hand gestures. I interpreted her manic bout of jury-rigged sign language to mean she wanted me to keep the jailer talking. She took a few steps back, unpinched her nose and drew in a calming breath.

  I knew my role. It wasn’t as glamorous as funneling the magic of all the exiled deities in the general interdimensional vicinity into my body, but my time would come. Being a hero also meant knowing when to step aside and let someone else have the win.

  I kept my field of view exactly how it was, my gal front and center and squishy elder god certain of my death, who was also pint-sized, off to the side.

  “Well, then what do you suggest we do if you’re so confident that anything we attempt is utterly futile?”

  It is. I will not be defeated in the way you think.

  “Ah, so that means there is a way,” I said. “Do tell.”

  I will not be lured into my downfall.

  “I think you might already have been.”

  Lorna put her hands together and drew them toward her chest. It was a very yogalike pose. And sort of sexy. I hated myself for thinking that, but it was her slow-motion movements that did it for me.

  She winked at me and then closed her eyes.

  “But what if this is the answer to your boredom.”

  I don’t follow.

  “Well, and hear me out, as much as you say you like sending parts of yourself into other time zones—”

  Quantum neighborhoods.

  “Pretty sure it’s time zones.”

  A ribbon of red and blue energy filtered into the chamber from the corridor and funneled into Lorna.

  It most certainly is not. I am an expert on all things extradimensional.

  “Extradimensional? Is that even a word? Don’t you mean interdimensional? If we get to make up science terms, I say that henceforth pocket dimensions be called bonus dimensions.”

  The godly essence flowing into Lorna was no longer a slender ribbon. A river of it poured into her. She glowed.

  The ground shook. I crouched to keep standing.

  Lorna didn’t because she was now floating two feet off the tiled floor.

  “I’m guessing the shaking is your handiwork. What are you doing? Strumming the underlying cords that hold this reality together?”

  That’s not even contiguous to being correct. It doesn’t work as an analogy, really.

  “So not a string instrument. What then? Percussion? Woodwinds? Did you blow into the dimensional piping that is in between realities to make your quaint little earthquake?”

  The energy no longer disappeared inside Lorna. It swept all around her, coating her in a thick armor.

  You are not making sense.

  “I don’t have to.”

  You most certainly do. I would think you’d want to be lucid in your ultimate moments. You are about to meet your initiator. I would imagine you’d like to maintain your marbles as you are ushered into your afterlife.

  “Oh, most definitely. But it’s looking like that day is not today.”

  Lorna turned toward Big Ernie, closing her eyes and balling up her hands at the same time. The lady looked mighty. If I could keep squid boy distracted a second or two more . . .

  You are very boastful, arrogant really. Who here can crush you by folding the space you inhabit in on itself?

  “Yours truly?”

  No, me, me truly. I can do that. I call it infinite accordion compression.

  “That’s not a thing you do.” I was beginning to think it was. The air was exerting far more pressure than it had a second ago, so much so that, when I went to nod at Lorna to signal for her to speed up ‘Operation: Eradicate the Elder God/Cosmic Jailer,’ my head passed through the thicker atmosphere in a highly sluggish manner not to my liking.

  I’m already doing it, but I think maybe you deserve to experience it at quarter speed so I can revel in your agony.

  “You don’t strike me as a proficient reveler.”

  Lorna grimaced and stabbed her arms forward. The stockpile of godly goodness shot forth, slamming into Big Ernie.

  What? No, you will not claim triumph.

  Lorna leaned in, sending an even larger torrent of magic at the octopus.

  Big Ernie stood his ground, but her bombardment was having an effect. He shrank slightly.

  No . . . I am not . . . at my . . . optimum.

  He was now half the size, more of a magic eight ball than a crystal ball. His tentacles shriveled up and the cocktail umbrella—taking it in from the corner of my eye I could see it wasn’t a little axe—disintegrated. I hated that I might never hear the story of how he’d obtained such a silly keepsake.

  I exclaim foul. My cold . . . and you distracting me . . . I royally rotated up . . .

  Lorna sent a huge wave of the godly essence at the elder god.

  It knocked him off the table. Now no bigger than an oversized marble, he bounced several times and rolled to a stop.

  No . . . I deserve . . .

  Lorna dropped to her knees and pitched forward.

  I sprang into action and snagged her inches from her head smacking into the ground. She looked up at me, residual sparks of magic shooting weakly from the corners of her eyes. I eased her to the floor and marched over to Big Ernie.

  . . . . . . . . . . . .

  I felt a tickle in the back of my head. He’d clearly broadcast something to us, but we could no longer receive it.

  I cupped a hand to my ear and leaned toward hi
m, risking a glance at his greatly reduced self. “What’s that? I can’t hear you? Must be some interference. Maybe you’re having trouble tuning yourself to the hum and thrum of reality, is that it?”

  . . . unfinished commerce . . .

  I brought my foot down hard on the elder god. “And it’s claim victory, you nasty glob of pus.”

  The instant Big Ernie ceased to be, the dimension around us winked out and we appeared in a large cornfield next to a small pond. The corn only came up to our knees, which was oddly cute and comforting to me.

  I raced over to Lorna and helped her to her feet.

  “You did it! Wow, you . . . that was . . . absolutely spectacular.”

  She looked ready to fall asleep, but she managed to open her eyes and beckon me to come closer with a whisper.

  I shifted forward to within a few inches of her. She lifted her head, which seemed like a major chore, and planted a quick, soft kiss to my lips. She closed her eyes.

  I pulled her close and repositioned her to a more comfortable angle.

  All around us, the exiled gods began appearing. I watched their arrival with glee.

  When a few of them popped into existence in the pond, I burst out laughing. Mitch arrived only ten feet away. Thankfully, I didn’t spot Vardislek but was sure the troublesome god had made it across.

  I looked at my fellow champion and thought, Lorna, if you were awake right now, you’d be absolutely dying.

  Chapter 21

  Time Marches Backward

  Lorna woke up almost ten minutes later. In that time, Mitch and Vardislek gathered the exiles in a fallow field next to the corn. Thankfully, there wasn’t a farmhouse that I could see, so we attracted no unwanted attention.

  Yolla stuck by my side. I thought it interesting that she could be with me as well as Mitch.

  Our deities filled in the crowd on their newfound freedom and the threat of the Entropy Queen, giving a few key details of the prophecy, nothing I hadn’t already heard.

  I couldn’t be sure, but we must’ve freed close to two hundred gods. That number seemed small when I thought of how many people the queen had likely enslaved by now. I checked my phone. No news about any attacks by an evil goddess and an army of the possessed, but there were plenty of reports of comatose victims getting up and walking through portals. Estimates ranged wildly from as few as several thousand to upwards of a million.

  Lorna stirred. I helped her stand.

  She stared out at the scene, looking weak from defeating Big Ernie.

  “You did it! We’re back on Earth, and they’re all ready to help,” I said.

  Mitch and Vardislek approached.

  Mitch grinned. “Thank you for freeing us.”

  “Will they help?” Lorna asked, surveying the milling deities.

  Vardislek said, “We didn’t poll them, but I would say all signs point to yes.”

  “Is that an official portent?” I asked, somewhat sarcastically. I didn’t like the little god. Something about him brought out my snarky side. I recalled his last portent, which had been cryptic and grim. We hadn’t lost an ally so far.

  “No, just good at reading the room.” He studied our rural environs. “Or rather, pasture.”

  I said, “So they need to know not to hurt anyone in the queen’s army.”

  “Pretty tall order,” Vardislek said. “These guys have been cooped up for a while. Quite a few, those with the more volatile temperaments, aren’t going to like hearing that.”

  “Tell them what you want,” Lorna said to me.

  Mitch nodded his approval. “You’re running the show, Felix. They know the two of you are part of the prophecy. They will abide by your wishes.”

  I drew in a breath, doing my best to ignore Vardislek rolling his eyes at my preparation.

  I shook out any stiffness and stood up straight. I walked past Lorna, who extended a hand, allowing it to graze my arm as I passed, her small way of showing support. She’d been instrumental in freeing our army, and now she was stepping aside to let me lead. I wasn’t wholly convinced her faith in me was deserved. For a split second—or a cleaved second if I was adopting how Big Ernie spoke—I wanted to pass the baton to Lorna. She struck me as more of a motivator than me.

  I caught Mitch staring at me. He was my god of progress. My stepping up and taking the reins would definitely be a sign of growth. I just didn’t do this sort of thing.

  Yolla nodded at me and mouthed, “You can do this.”

  Despite not feeling like the proper fit for the role, I girded myself and marched up to the deities. All of them had tended a god wheel in the past and seen it as not serving a purpose. They valued mortals but wanted to work out in the open alongside them rather than exert hidden influence. Prophecy or not, would they take orders from a measly mortal?

  I drew to within ten feet of the first row of gods. Most were human in appearance. There were a few odd standouts. I spotted a moose with glowing antlers, a fox with bat wings, a centaur, and what looked like a cyclops with a peg leg. There was even a goddess with snakes for hair. She didn’t turn me to stone, but I did freeze up for a hot minute when our eyes met.

  Some were grandly outfitted, clearly playing the part of the divine to the max, while most looked every day. Jeans and T-shirts were the rule and not the exception. With the divine, every day was apparently Casual Friday. I spied a goddess even shorter than Vardislek, a fairy that flew up and smiled at me before winging back to perch on the shoulder of a god that was most assuredly associated with war, mayhem, and grisly death. He looked outfitted to pound and pummel at the drop of his oversized, skull-themed helm.

  I cleared my throat and began. “We face an enemy set on bringing chaos. Her army of mortals serves against their will. For that reason, do not hurt them, only subdue.”

  Several of the rougher deities grimaced, but no one protested.

  “When she strikes, Lorna and I need your help to get us to the queen. We’re supposed to take her out, somehow.”

  A small elf wearing a flowing yellow gown and leaning on a staff that looked like a gnarled branch said, “I know you doubt yourself, but I sense a more than ample supply of bravery within you two.” She nodded at me and then at Lorna.

  She must be the goddess of pep talks to someone. “Thank you.”

  “Fear not, Felix Martin. The ‘not knowing’ is mentioned in the prophecy. I read over it carefully when your god Xexxer and I did extensive prophecy research.” The god wore his hood very low. I could only see a pointy, bone-white chin.

  Slif had mentioned Xexxer as a likely expert on the prophecy. He’d been so stuffy, I hadn’t really thought to spin him and pepper the god with questions.

  Part of me thought this deity was just as uptight and a stickler for procedures as Xexxer. It would be smart to appeal to him with a little pomp and circumstance, two things that didn’t come easy to me, but I could give them a shot. “Well, he’s not currently here. Could you share some of what you gleaned from the prophecy? Any parts you deem helpful?”

  The god shook his hidden head. “What part of ‘not knowing’ don’t you fathom? You are to enter into the impending fracas uninformed.” The god spun around and slipped back into the crowd.

  Noticing the deities acted restless, Mitch motioned for me to wrap things up.

  “The time to clash with the witch and safely incapacitate her army is going to be really soon.”

  Again, several of the bruiser types looked ready to mount an argument justifying maximum force, but I scanned the crowd, issuing the lot of them my most determined glare.

  Vardislek sarcastically slow clapped. “Well done. A rousing call for . . . relative action. Your ability to inspire is, well, still dubious at best.”

  “Just trying to keep everybody alive.”

  Lorna’s god of portents said, “Fine and dandy, but recall my omen declared a do over was possible.”

  I wanted to argue that I didn’t know what that meant but held back. It seemed none of the god
s could be direct and obvious.

  Lorna snuck up behind me and patted my back. She pointed at Yolla and Mitch. “So, seeing as you get to have two from your wheel at your side, let’s go spin me my own back-up.” She triggered a portal, and Yolla and I went through it with her.

  ****

  Lorna concentrated, clearly trying to nudge the wheel to land on a specific deity. I wished she’d consulted with me, as I had a hunch who we took with us into this confrontation was important.

  The wheel landed on Mnemon, the god we shared together. I wondered if that would cause Yolla to vanish.

  The god appeared and, thankfully, my goddess stayed present and accounted for.

  “That wasn’t who I requested.” She frowned. “I’d been going for Kni, figuring we could use a little serendipity right now.”

  Mnemon was bald, but young, mid-twenties. He had a single piercing in his right ear and a soul patch bleached white. His black T-shirt featured an hourglass with the sand actually dropping into the timepiece’s bottom half. I watched the graphic grains spill downward for a few seconds, as did Lorna. Black boots and blue jeans completed his outfit. He didn’t look up from his cell phone.

  “So you finally got around to me. About time.”

  “Sorry. We spun a lot. It just never stopped on you,” I said.

  He glanced over at me. “Oh, hey, Felix.” He again fixated on his phone, thumbing through several screens before making eye contact with Lorna. “Kind of nice to take care of you two at the same time.”

  “Are you the god of memory?” I asked.

  He kept thumbing through his phone, clearly searching a relevant screen or app to escape into or show us. I couldn’t be sure. He just oozed detachment, like he couldn’t be bothered with reality. “So to speak. I’m the god of time.”

  Neither of us said anything.

  He stopped working with his phone but still looked at it. “I’m one of the few keen on embracing tech. Time marches on, shedding old concerns and moving onto new.”

  Lorna gave me a look that questioned this celestial’s sanity.

  “But sometimes revisiting our past, replaying a passage that has grown dim in our memory, has purpose.” He tore his gaze away from his phone and gave us each a lingering look. “What I’m saying is . . . road trip!” He pressed his thumb down on his phone’s screen. A chime sounded.