by G. Bailey
I want to think all my personality has come from my mother and the parents who brought me up. But what if I take too much power? Will I become like they are - heartless gods who rule with no emotion? What kind of destruction could I be capable of?
The idea is suddenly too much for me, and I can’t bear the thought of looking at the others right now. “I guess I’ll go get ready then,” I say, and before any of them can say a word, I turn around and walk back to my room. I just need to be away from their knowing looks and the fear they are feeling. I can almost sense it, like it is coming off of them in waves. I don’t even know if they know it, but I could see it in their eyes: they’re wondering the same thing that I am. They’re afraid of what I could become - of what these powers could turn me into.
I turn before I reach my room and hurry into the bathroom, quickly closing the door behind me and sagging against it like I’ve just run a hundred miles. I find myself gasping for air, sucking in deep breaths as if all the oxygen has gone from the world. I clamp my eyes shut, afraid of what I’ll see if I look in the mirror.
It’s as I’m struggling to get a hold of my emotions that the door behind me is slowly pushed open, and I stagger a couple of steps back. I’m surprised to see Seth standing in the doorway, his golden eyes wide with concern as he takes in the sight of me. “Get out,” I tell him, not meeting his eyes. “Please. I can’t… I don’t know if…” I trail off, putting a hand against the wall to brace myself as if one wrong move will send me falling to the floor.
Seth doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes me by the hand, pushes me to sit on the toilet, and kneels in front of me, taking my hands in his. “I’m not going anywhere,” he tells me, and I’m in too much of a state to argue with him. Instead I just focus on the feeling of his hands as I look into his bright, thoughtful eyes. “You’re having a panic attack, Karma,” he says slowly. “I used to get them a lot as a kid.”
I raise my eyebrows a little at that. “You got panic attacks? I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, believe it,” Seth tells me, his expression serious. “I was always the small one, and no matter how hard Killian tried to protect me, the other schoolboys would beat the crap out of me whenever he wasn’t looking. So every time the school bell went for lunchtime, my heart would beat so fast I would think it was ending my life, and it felt like no matter how much I breathed in air, I wasn’t getting any oxygen.” He breaks eye contact, glancing away from me, and I realise with a start that he’s blushing a little. I’m surprised he’s admitting this to me, and not just because it’s clear that these are painful memories; my relationship with Seth has run hot and cold at best, and only recently have we started to become close. He’s colder and more closed off than Killian, and I never would have imagined him coming clean about upsetting times from his childhood.
Seth clears his throat before continuing. “Anyway, I ended up spending more and more time in the nurse’s office, which helped me escape the playground for a little while, at least.”
“W-what did you do?” I ask, eyes going wide.
“Eventually it would stop,” he explains, “and I would calm down. It was only in the aftermath that I remembered I was still alive, that I was okay, and that I could sit still until the bell went off for the next lesson. It wasn’t a great way to spend my recesses, but it was better than thinking I was going to die.”
“Please say you got revenge on those boys when you got your god powers,” I say, because that is something I would do. He smirks, turning his head to the side... and feckin’ hell, it makes him look more sexy. Have I ever looked at Seth this way before? I know that he looks like Killian, but there are subtle differences that I’m only appreciating now. I focus on Seth’s lips, the dimples the smirk has caused, and his bright eyes, which are like pools of liquid gold, even in the dim light of the bathroom.
He gives me a crooked smile. “Maybe I just need a karma goddess to help me get karma,” he replies, though I have a sneaky suspicion that Seth did get revenge and doesn’t want to tell me. He’s too much of a goody-two-shoes. Nice to know some things don’t change.
“Then you’re out of luck,” I tell him, and I can feel my face fall. “I’m not just a karma goddess anymore. I’m a half monster instead,” I say, and once again it becomes harder to breathe. Why is it that whenever things are starting to look up for me, some other horrible revelation hits me and sends me back to square one?
“Listen to me, Karma,” Seth firmly tells me, placing his hands on the sides of my face, and lifting my head so I have to meet his gold eyes. They almost glow, and the gold swirls around like a beautifully painted picture that you never want to look away from. “My father was a monster. A cold bastard who left a poor human woman to give birth to twins and raise them all by herself. When my human mother died, he knew - and he still left us to be brought up in foster care.”
“Seth…” I say quietly, “I had no idea.”
“And do you know why?” he asks. “It’s because, in spite of all the horrible things he did, I am not like my father. Neither is Killian. Not one part of our souls are like his. And if we can get by without turning into our father, then that means so can you.”
“How do you know?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Seth strokes my cheek, and I lean into his touch, allowing my eyes to flutter shut for a moment. “Karma,” he says, “I know you. You are kind, and sweet... and way too annoying to be evil.”
“Isn’t being annoying a part of being evil?” I say, my voice cracking even though I’m trying to be jovial.
“No, because you’d just end up getting killed by another annoying villain way before you got a chance to be evil,” he tells me, which is some crazy logic… but it also makes me feel a little better. Seth is right, I’m not them. I never have been.
“Thank you, Seth,” I say. “I’m serious. I was freaking out, and I really needed to hear that,” I admit. “Or…” I pause and take a breath. “Or maybe I just really needed you to be here. Either way, thank you.” I wipe my eyes, which I realise have been streaming with tears. “Gosh, I’m a feckin’ mess,” I mutter, chuckling at how ridiculous I must look. “You must hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, Karma. Far from it actually,” he says, and I freeze, meeting his gaze. There is a moment between us that I can’t describe,and for a moment I wonder if he’s going to lean in... but he soon breaks the silence and clears his throat. “Maybe you can stop calling me goldipops as payment.”
“Yeah...that isn’t going to happen,” I say, my usual sass returning to my voice. “Sorry, goldipops. The nickname is here to stay.”
Seth rolls his eyes, getting to his feet and holding out a hand to me before helping me stand up. “Come on, smartass,” he says. “You need to stand tall and—” We both pause when we hear something scrape against the door. I stand up as Seth does, my guard going up, and watch as he pulls the door open.
Killian and Storm are looking sheepish as Mads lowers the glass in her hand with a similar guilty look.
“Were you guys spying on us?” I demand, crossing my arms.
“Er… define spying,” Mads says, standing up and putting the glass behind her back.
I shake my head in disbelief. “I’d expect this from you, Mads, but Storm? Killian?” As pissed off as I am, though, I can’t help the smile that’s trying to break free. “I didn’t know you lot were nosy feckers.”
“We were just worried about you,” Mads interjects, while the big, allegedly scary gods behind her don’t say a single word. I just raise one eyebrow at them. I’m pretty sure men never stop being kids, they just become giant kids.
“I’m okay. We should get going. I want to get there early so maybe we could find out what the game actually is,” I say, pulling the belt around my waist, and Seth comes closer. He shows me how to clip it on so it stays on my hips, with both the daggers at either side. I have to win this game, or I’m never going to escape this place with the gods, friends
and family I love the most.
10
My feet crunch against the flagstones that wind away into the distance as we head along the long pathway. Faintly, beyond the castle walls, I can hear noise in the distance that floods me with fear. It’s the sound of a large group of people, all talking, cheering, and shouting. It reminds me a little of the time I went to a soccer match with Mum and Dad when I was in primary school - I had never seen so many people in one place before, or heard anything quite so rabid.
The noise I’m hearing now is enough to drown that all out.
I think, after so long being isolated, I had never even considered the prospect of there being other people living on this island. There were the castle guards, to be sure, but part of me had been convinced that the higher gods were the only inhabitants - a group of egomaniacs who surrounded themselves only with their lackeys and advisors. As it turns out, this island is bigger than it appeared when I first arrived in the ruins, and seems to be populated with its own community of supernaturals. Most of them aren’t higher gods - in fact, many of them aren’t gods at all - but they all have one thing in common: they’re here because of their loyalty to Xur and his family. I’m not even sure what would happen to a resident here if they spoke out against the higher gods, but I’m certain it wouldn’t be anything good.
My sympathy for them ends there, however. It takes a certain kind of sadism to gather in a crowd all for the sake of watching people get hurt, especially when those people don’t want to be here in the first place. One thing is clear: they want to see me lose, whatever this game is. The higher gods are out for blood, and I don’t doubt that the rest of the island is, too. But I’m not going to lose. Something in me seems to have woken up in the aftermath of Seth’s pep talk, and all that matters to me now is making sure that the higher gods are stopped, no matter the cost. I’m still terrified, but the determination to protect the people I love overpowers the fear.
I want a world of peace, one where I don’t have to worry about any future child of mine being taken from me, or being killed as part of some centuries-long chess game between the higher gods. That has happened once, and there is only one sure way to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
The higher gods need to feckin’ die.
And not take me down with them. At least, not if I have anything to say about it.
“Where is the rest of my family?” I ask Storm, although I don’t expect him to have an answer. He’s walking alongside me to my right, his head down and his shoulders hunched with tension. I know he’s not the kind of guy who usually wears his heart on his sleeve, but there’s concern written all over his face. I can tell that he’s worried about me, and I wish I could wrap my arms around him and murmur that it’s going to be okay. But I can’t, and he knows it as well as I do. Mads is at my other side, her hands stuffed in her pockets and a pensive expression on her face. The justice twins are walking a little ways in front of us, their gazes fixed straight ahead. I can hear them talking to one another in low voices, although they’re far enough away that I can’t make out the words they’re saying. Part of me is glad; I have enough people worrying about me right now.
“Pey sent me a text,” Mads answers. “He is already there with the rest of your family. They’re waiting for us to arrive, but he didn’t say where they were.” She opens her mouth as if to say something else, but then closes it, shaking her head.
I steal another glance at Storm, who meets my eyes with his own. He doesn’t say anything, instead reaching out and sliding his hand into mine. We slow for a moment as I link my fingers with his, and for a brief second, I rest my head on his arm, letting my eyes slowly close. The simple contact gives me more strength than I can express, and his presence is enough to recharge me.
I know I need to talk to Storm about what Killian said, about our future together. Maybe even more so, after what happened - or what almost happened - between Seth and me in the bathroom. But there’s no knowing what he would even say, and besides, it seems almost fruitless to do that when I’m not sure if I’m going to live or die. I need to focus on staying alive, and let the rest come after; one day at a time is the only way I’m going to survive this.
We continue to walk between the trees, like prisoners on their way to the gallows, and soon enough the arena soon comes into view. The sunny skies we had yesterday are long gone, and now dark clouds hang in the sky, looming on the horizon and threatening to bring a vicious bout of bad weather. It’s oddly appropriate, considering the circumstances, and I would be willing to bet that Storm is the one causing them. He did say higher gods’ powers were linked to emotions.
At the very least, though, it’s not raining, so thank the gods for small favours, I guess. Still, there’s a strong wind whipping through the branches of the trees and nearly drowning out the sounds of the crowd in the stadium, and a chill runs up my spine - although whether it’s due to the weather or the anticipation, I have no clue.
I tug my old brown leather jacket closer around me with my one hand, the wind whipping my hair as we make our slow way into the arena. It feels like it gets colder with every step we take, as if the very air in the place is tainted with some dark and horrible magic.
The arena itself reminds me of something from the ancient Greek times, similar to the Roman colosseum but on a smaller scale. The raised seats tower above us on all sides, made of intricately carved stone and looking down accusingly on the middle of the arena. Every seat seems to be filled, and a glance around the place confirms that many of the people on this island aren’t gods at all, but other supernaturals; I can make out the forms of fairies, leprechauns, changelings. There are even what look like a few vampires in the stands, although I can’t be sure since I’ve never seen one up close before. I can feel my heart hammering harder in my chest as we stop just inside the arena; their eyes are all on me and Storm, and I give his hand an involuntary squeeze as I take in the sight before us.
In the middle of the arena looms a giant maze. It’s one of those old-fashioned hedge mazes, like you might see on a regency estate, except the walls tower higher than I would have ever thought possible, making it impossible to see past the entrance. There’s no doubt in my mind that it was created just for this trial, with the intention of looking as imposing as possible (and I’ll be damned if it’s not working). Thorny branches wind their way along the outer walls, and the dense foliage obscures my view inside, although the spectators in the stands can no doubt see everything that awaits me in there.
I realise I’m frozen in place, and it’s not until Storm gives my hand a gentle tug that I’m able to force myself to move once again. We begin to walk to the right, skirting around the outside of the maze, and I can make out an area in the middle with a raised platform that towers over the other seats in the arena. My family members are all standing in front of the entrance to the maze, looking hesitantly up at the platform where the higher gods will no doubt sit down to watch.
I fight off the urge to run to my family, trying to give off an air of unbothered calm as I move, in spite of the fact that I’m reeling inside. The thousands of eyes on me from all around the stadium feel like they’re burning a hole in the back of my neck, and I steel another glance up at the spectators as I walk to meet my family. Now that I’m closer, I can see that many of those in the audience are gods, if lesser ones, and it seems that the rank of the being determines where they sit. Closest to the action are the more powerful gods, while the plebians and other supernatural races are relegated to the outer seats. Each god is distinct from the rest; some have hair in bright colours and strange styles, some have large horns, cat ears, or tails. There is even one goddess who is literally covered in sparkly silver dust - a celestial deity of some sort? I’ve heard that shite is hard to get rid of once it gets in your house. It doesn’t matter though; I can tell that they’re murmuring about me to one another. It must be news now that the child of a higher god has been found, and is now playing some sort of game with her family.
There hasn’t been good gossip like this in years in the supernatural community - at least, none that I’ve heard, anyway.
I envy them their ability to watch in the background as I risk my life. It must be nice to be able to forget about all the evil the higher gods have done, in favour of an afternoon of fun and violence.
Mum hugs me tightly when I get close. “I love you, Karma,” she says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“I love you too, Mum,” I reply, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “I’m going to get through this,” I tell her, even if I don’t entirely believe it. “I promise.”
Dad gives me a nod of gratitude before pulling Mum away from me. She puts her head to his chest and begins to cry. I want to go comfort her, but I need to stay strong, and right now she isn’t helping me do that. Seeing her weeping like I’m being sent to my death is only serving to make me more scared. Besides, this isn’t just a physical game - it’s a game of politics, a game of manipulation, and the higher gods are no doubt watching my every move, looking for any sign of weakness. I can’t let them know that I’m terrified.
Mads touches my shoulder for a moment before going to stand at Peyton’s side, and have to do a double take when I see that Michael the goat is standing beside him. Pey has his hand on the animal’s back, restraining him, and I can see the curiosity in Michael’s eyes as he stares up at the world around us.