Imprisoned Gods

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Imprisoned Gods Page 2

by G. Bailey


  "Wait a second, don't do that!" I shout at him, trying to shake him off as he pulls on my leg, trying to climb up me. I'm no rope, dude. The idiot lets go of the branch altogether, wrapping both his arms around my legs, and the rope drops us a tad. I scream, trying to shake him off as the rope slips from my hands, cutting into them as I desperately try to hold his weight up with mine. This is not what I had planned. What kind of feckin’ gobshite is he? He is going to kill us both.

  "Do I look like a bodybuilder who can hold your weight as well as my own, you feckin' eegit!" I shout at John, who is screaming and shaking as he holds onto my legs, completely ignoring me. My first hand slips just before I can do nothing but shriek as the rope falls from my hands, somehow letting me fall through the rope tied around my stomach. As I fall through the cold air, I brace myself to hit the pond water just as someone slams into me. I open my eyes, seeing my brother floating in the air above me, struggling to hold us all up with a shiny barrier of blue light. He holds a spear in his hand, and the tip glows the same blue as the barrier. My brother and his magical stick to the rescue again.

  "Karma Maria Kismet. Give me your friggin’ hand." Ah crap. I smile up at Peyton as he shouts his demand, sounding just like mum when she is mad as hell. I reach up, slamming my hand into his just as John, the moron, pulls hard on my leg as he screams. My leg slams through the magical barricade, my hand slipping from Peyton’s, and there is nothing to stop us as we all fall into the dirty water. I swim up to the surface, gasping air into my lungs as I wipe my eyes to see John come up right in front of me. He screams as he sees me, like I’m not the person that just tried to save his sorry ass. How ungrateful. A second later, my brother’s head appears out of the water to my right, and he looks like he just wants to murder me. Fair enough, I can’t actually blame him.

  "Hey, bro...how are you?" I awkwardly ask. “I see you had a haircut…”

  "Why am I always saving your arse, Karma?" he asks, glaring at me before swimming towards the edge of the pond. After a while, I see that Peyton pulls himself out of the pond and shakes his long red hair of the green water before crossing his arms. I shrug before turning around and swimming to the end of the pond, a bit away from him as I’m not stupid, and pulling myself out. My clothes are ruined, and I hold in a squeal as I pull out a small fish from my hair and throw it back in the pond.

  "I didn't need any help. The pond broke our fall," I point out as I see Pey looking at me like I should be saying sorry or thank you. I don’t know which one he expects, but he isn’t getting either.

  "Y-you were flying!" John shouts, saving me from having to say anything at all. John screams at Peyton as he gets out of the water and then starts running into the forest in front of us. I look at Peyton, and we both burst into laughter, neither one us able to stop laughing for a little bit.

  “See, it’s not all bad. Just a little mess up, and I could have handled it,” I say when the laughter dies off.

  "That pond has sharp rocks at the bottom, and it would have killed you if you fell without me stopping you," he points out. "Now I'm going to find whoever that screaming idiot is, wipe his memory, and then we can get going. I feckin’ stink, Karma."

  "I didn't know he was going to fall off a cliff, now did I?" I say, squeezing the pond water out my hair as Peyton walks past me.

  "Somehow, you never seem to have any blame for every job that goes wrong," he tells me. "Lucky you have a family to get your arse out of trouble, isn't it, little sis?"

  "I don't mess up every job," I point out. "It's like one out of five, and I think that's pretty good."

  "Not for a karma god, sis," he reminds me. "Now your guy is going to forget today, including his bad karma and get away with whatever he did. Without true karma, the world would be ruined. You need to get better at this." With his gloomy warning that makes me feel bad, he jogs into the forest after poor John. I lie back on the grass, looking up at the rocky cliff and bright blue sky. At least it's a nice day for John to have gone swimming.

  3

  I’m not sure whether it’s the stench of the pond scum or the fact that there are rocks digging into my ass, but I’m unable to get comfortable lying alongside the water, so I stand up, giving my long red tresses a squeeze to try to wring some of the water out. It doesn’t do much good; I’m sopping wet, and I smell like something that’s been sitting at the bottom of a lake for about a century. Still, at least I’m able to pluck a couple of stray sticks out of my unkempt red curls and give myself a desperate wipe-down with my hands. Damn, I think. I really liked this top. Maybe Mum will be able to reverse the damage when I get home. She seems to have a charm for everything, and if not a spell, then she might at least have a rune or potion that will keep it from getting stained. My clothes stick to me uncomfortably as I begin to make my way in the direction Peyton went, the rocks crunching under my boots. I struggle to keep my balance along the shoreline, and once glance back up the cliff face confirms what I already know: it’s going to be a long way back for poor John. If I’m lucky - and he’s not too pissed off at me as it is - maybe I can get Peyton to magick us back to the road. The thought of hiking when I’m wearing leather and dripping wet isn’t something I relish, and given what a botched job I’ve done here, it might be best if I go lay low at home for a while before continuing about my duties.

  First things first, though, I’ll need to catch up with my brother. We’re far away from the main highway out here, and the sounds of the wilderness around us are the only thing I can pick up. Contrary to what you might believe, gods aren’t physically much more powerful than humans; we get injured almost just as easily, our bodies age, and we get sick the same way humans do. The only difference is that we have access to magic, which makes our jobs easier. But make no mistake: if Peyton hadn’t been there to help me just now, I might very well have died - or at the very least, broken a few bones. Granted, there are exceptions - gods of physical strength and virility tend to be more durable than the average human, and others (like luck gods, for example) never seem to have accidents, no matter what they do. But I’m neither of those things, and at the end of the day, I’m more or less just a squishy flesh sack like everyone else in the mortal world.

  That might explain why I’ve always been told that I have shit hearing for someone my age. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why Mum yelled at me so much when I was a kid (although to be honest, I think it’s less a matter of not hearing and more a matter of not listening). Either way, the sound of my brother going after John has been muffled by the forest, and I have no choice now but to head in the direction he went and hope I’ll stumble upon him eventually. I could easily see him leaving me by the pond to teach me some kind of lesson, but I’m damn well not going to let this turn into another cautionary tale if I can help it. I mean, come on - I’m just trying to do my job, here.

  The day is bright and warm, and the sun feels nice on my damp skin as I make for the edge of the trees. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, and if I weren’t on duty today, I would think this the perfect time to wander the streets of town, or maybe even go into Dublin for the day. But karma never sleeps, apparently, and therefore, neither do I. I stifle a shiver as I enter the forest, the thick canopy blocking out the warmth of the sun and the world growing gloomy and shadowy as I go. There’s no path - just my luck - but I think I can hear the sound of footsteps in the distance, and so I continue in that direction. It’s always a bit entertaining to see a memory wiping happen - it’s never been something I’ve been very good at, although I’m going to have to learn how to do it sooner or later. Granted, I have a charm for it - it was one of the first ones my parents gave me - but it’s tricky to use, and I’m not the patient sort. Considering how often I manage to bungle my jobs, though, it would really come in handy.

  It goes without saying that normal humans can’t ever be made aware of the existence of magical folk. It’s not just about gods, although we’re certainly a large part of it, since our actions affect the everyday hum
an world a great deal; there are plenty of other magical beings whose existence is safeguarded from prying human eyes. Fairies, for instance, and leprechauns. I’ve also heard of dryads and sirens, although they’re more rare, and I’ve never met one personally. The difference is that they tend to keep to themselves, and work for themselves. Gods, however? We exist to serve the human world, as shitty as it can be, and that means hiding among them in plain sight. If you ask me, it’s not all that fair; we’re stuck with our assignments from birth. Being sent to deal with selfish, spoiled, and cruel people all the livelong day starts to wear on your nerves after a while, and there aren’t many gods who actively seek out bad people the way I do. But someone has to do it, and I for one enjoy seeing people get their comeuppance. It’s far more entertaining than bringing fortune to the goody-two-shoes of the world, although I know I’m in the minority to think so. The only problem, of course, is that when something goes wrong like it did today, it’s on us to clean up the messes we make, one way or another.

  And by us, I mean someone other than me. Usually one of my brothers. But hey, it’s not my fault I still haven’t gotten the hang of my memory charm!

  I’m trudging along and shivering in the damp forest air for some time before I become aware of the humming sound behind me. Curious, I turn around and raise my eyebrows when I see that the swarm of bees I summoned earlier is still trailing behind me like a lost puppy. Whoops. Things went to hell so fast back there that I completely forgot to release them. Digging my animal summoning charm back out, I murmur, “Creatures of the land, sky, and sea, I relinquish you from your service to me.” An instant later, the swarm of bees begins to dissolve, and the rather confused-looking insects buzz away into the forest. The charm would have worn off in time, considering it’s a bargain basement medallion that most trolls would probably turn their noses up at, but the last thing I want is to have a bunch of stinging insects following me home… even if they were on my side.

  Tossing my long red hair back over my shoulder, I turn back around and continue to pick my way between the trees. Mental note, I think as I move past a bramble bush, its thorns scratching at my arms as I go, next time wait until you know the guy isn’t leaving the house. Hey, we all make mistakes, right?

  Before long, I begin to hear the sounds of muffled voices, and a few more moments of walking bring me to a small clearing. There are bushes on the far side, and I can make out the faint shape of a dirt path winding away between the trees - that’s our ticket home, if Peyton doesn’t decide to have mercy on me and transport us back to civilization. John is standing by the road, backing up slowly and pointing accusingly at Peyton as he moves. “I don’t give a shit who you are,” he snaps. “I just want you to stay away from me, you… you… you freak of nature!”

  Peyton sighs, rolling his eyes. “John, this would be a lot easier for all of us if you would just stand still for a moment,” he says.

  “Like hell!” John exclaims. “Why don’t you tell me how you were floating first, huh? How about that?!” He catches sight of me and bristles, turning his angry gaze on me. “And what the hell were you doing back there? Why were you on my bike?”

  I raise my eyebrows, a little surprised that he noticed while he was dangling over the edge of a cliff. “Believe me,” I tell him, “you really don’t want to know.”

  Peyton shoots me a glance when he hears my voice. “Not now, Karma,” he mutters. “You’ve done enough damage here.”

  I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to John. “Just hold still,” I tell him, savoring the barely-disguised panic in his expression when I say it. “This will all be over soon.”

  “What are you-” John begins, but he hesitates, and that brief moment is all Peyton needs. His hand is already flying to his pocket, pulling out one of his own charms. I see him rub a small circle over its brass surface with his thumb, his gaze fixed on John, and moments later, the douchebag’s eyes are glowing a pale blue color, the same way Peyton’s spear did earlier. His shoulders slump, his jaw goes slack, and as soon as his eyes stop glowing, they glaze over, no more recognition in them. “What…?” he begins, looking around as if in a daze. “Where am I…?” His eyes suddenly widen, and he whirls around, his arms flying out. “The bees!” he exclaims. “My bike…!”

  “Relax,” says Peyton. “Your bike is at the top of the ridge. There are no bees here.”

  “How did I get here?” John asks, brow furrowing.

  “You must have fallen over the edge,” Peyton replies. “You’re lucky you didn’t die. My sister and I just came across you. Follow this trail here, and you should get back to the main road.”

  “I… Right,” John says, rubbing his forehead. “Okay. The main road. Yes…” Looking unsteady, he slowly turns around and disappears into the trees.

  Peyton turns to me and crosses his arms. “So what are the chances of hitching a ride back home?” I ask.

  He rolls his eyes and takes my hand in his. Within an instant, the world around us is dissolving, the colors shimmering and merging, and suddenly we’re back at the dropoff, a few yards away from the abandoned motorbikes. Peyton turns and begins to head back down the road, not waiting up for me. “You really mucked it up this time,” he mutters. “You’re lucky I was in the neighborhood.”

  I shrug. “I would’ve just let him fall, if I were you.”

  He turns to me and says incredulously, “You don’t really mean that, Karma.”

  “Like hell I don’t,” I insist. “I don’t know what the guy did, but he was an asshole - that part was obvious.”

  “Our job is to deliver karma,” Peyton reminds me. “Not kill people. We’re not death gods.”

  “No,” I lament. “I think I’d make a much better death god, all things considered.”

  He snorts. “We’re in agreement there.”

  “So what were you doing around here, anyway?” I ask, crossing my arms as we turn the corner. Town shouldn’t be far from here.

  “I got a guy who saved a stray cat from the highway,” Peyton replies. “Made him find a hundred-euro gift card.”

  I sniff, but don’t say anything. It’s admirable, even if I can’t stand how saccharine the good karma always is. Why should people have to be bribed to do good things, anyway? Why shouldn’t they just… be good, without the universe patting them on the back and giving them a gold star? I guess that’s the cynical part of me talking, but I can’t help it.

  I’m really in the wrong line of work.

  4

  I continue to bicker with my brother as we continue on down the road in the direction of our home, asking him about his jobs for the day, complaining about some of my most recent charges, and speculating on what John might have done to deserve his most recent bout of bad karma. My money’s on cheating on his girlfriend, while Peyton suspects road rage. Either way, he seems to quickly tire of walking, as once we reach the outskirts of town, he pulls out his teleportation charm and tells me to take his hand again. I do as I’m told (a rare occurrence for someone like me, believe me), and after a moment of spellcasting, we are spirited off the main road. I think I’m finally getting used to the sensation of teleportation, although I’ll be happier once I’m able to do it myself. Like memory wiping, it requires some finesse, even when using a medallion, and I’m more the type of god to paint with a large brush, so to speak.

  “You won’t tell anyone about the cliff diving incident, will you?” I ask as we appear on the pathway in front of our house. We live in a small village just south of Dublin, the kind of quaint old place that you might imagine as the setting of a fairy tale… which, now that I think about it, this sort of is. Peyton lifts his bushy red eyebrows at me and just shakes his head before he pulls open the small white picket gate and walks down the white stone path to our house. I’m taking his no answer as a yes, or at least hoping so - nothing wrong with thinking positive, right? I really don’t want to hear our younger brothers laughing over this or see our parents’ expressions of disappointmen
t. This isn’t the first time I’ve bungled a job, and part of me wonders if one of these days they’re going to just give up on me altogether.

  I gaze up at the house I grew up in, this tiny little place where I’ve spent so much of my life to this day. It’s not a good idea for me to live in an apartment or a small house somewhere yet. Humans would notice my lack of a job, or they could notice weird things that are magical happening by accident. Humans have a curious nature, and the last thing I need when I’m trying to do my job is someone poking their nose where it doesn’t belong. Mads is a different story - she lives by herself, and I don’t have to worry about her catching on to my magical doings. Besides, at the end of the day, I really don’t mind living with my family. We keep to ourselves, and the house is spelled - part of a renovation my parents had done when my mom was pregnant with me. The charm makes it much larger on the inside than it appears on the outside, such that each of us has our own room, and it’s easy enough to avoid each other in the aftermath of a siblings quarrel… or a botched job, like the one I just did.

  The house has a brown cobbled stone exterior, small white panelled windows, and moss growing up the one side. It’s the very definition of cute little houses, and the very last place you’d expect a family of karma gods to live. The street is full of these little detached houses with long gardens behind them, all in neat rows. The only difference is that, while the others in the neighborhood are probably struggling for space, that’s something we never have to worry about. In front of our house is the local park, which was awesome to live by as a kid. My old primary and high schools are two streets over, and there is a row of shops on the other side of the village. It has everything you could want, and really, you don’t have to leave unless you want more than a humble life. All in all, it’s the sort of unassuming place that’s perfect for someone who wants to fly under the radar.

 

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