Accidentally...Over?

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  “Laws shmaws!” Penelope barked. “We’re changing them. This is bull crap!”

  “But—”

  “But nothing,” she interrupted. “You and I lead the House of Gods; you and I are husband and wife.” She cupped his cheek and lovingly gazed into his eyes. “Haven’t you learned, baby, that there’s nothing we can’t do together? We’re meant to change the world. And it’s time for the gods to evolve.”

  Máax smiled. Penelope was a gods’ send. Such a smart, smart woman. And a perfect match for his brother.

  Fate rose from her seat at the end of the table in her belted little dress and white boots, looking like her usual snotty, uptight self. “Well, you need a unanimous vote to change a divine law, and you’re not getting mine. Our laws have worked just fine for tens of thousands of years, and I see no need to change them simply because it’s convenient.”

  She is so predictable. Well, here goes.

  “Are you sure about that, Fate?” said Máax.

  Fate glanced at him or the chair, he wasn’t sure. “Of course I am.”

  “Because,” he said, “our laws state that they can only be changed by a unanimous vote of all fourteen deities. You are not a real deity, are you?”

  The room collectively gasped, and Fate’s face paled. “I-I have no i-i-idea what you mean,” she stuttered. Her eyes shifted from side to side.

  “Fate?” Penelope said. “What’s Máax talking about?”

  Sitting behind Máax, Cimil raised her hand. “Ooh. Ooh. I know! Call me. Call me!”

  Penelope looked at Cimil, then at Fate. “Fate?” But Fate looked at the floor. “Okay, Cimil… I call on you.”

  “Did I say something?” Cimil’s eyes widened innocently. “I think it was Máax’s turn to speak.”

  Penelope grumbled, “Máax? What’s going on?”

  “Don’t you dare, Máax!” Fate barked.

  “Fate is not a deity,” he said. “She’s a fake.”

  Ashli watched with fascination as the strange drama unfolded. The redheaded lady, Emma, had insisted she come to this trial this morning. Why? She didn’t know. She didn’t know a lot of things, actually. But she did know she’d gone off the deep end because this could not be real. The people who sat at the front of the room were a combination of surreal and beautiful, bizarre and scary. The men, all the height of basketball players, were the most gorgeous male specimens she’d ever seen and built like armored tanks. The women were ten times prettier than any Victoria’s Secret model, but dressed in everything from summer frocks to beehive hats. The courtroom was also filled with a strange brew of individuals—more large, beautiful men (many in leather pants), soldiers in black who looked like mercenaries, and a few hundred women of all shapes and sizes standing in the back. But what boggled her mind most was how all eyes were glued to an empty chair… a chair that spoke.

  I must be seeing things. And one might assume that would be enough to win the prize—an extended vacay in a pretty padded room, but oh no. This was like that Magic Bullet infomercial she’d just seen on television this morning. But wait! That’s not all. There’s more!

  So what was “more”?

  Ashli wanted that chair.

  Yes. Wanted. And not as in, she wanted it for her dining room or kitchen. Oh no. She wanted it like a woman wanted a man. From the moment it spoke, she ignited and a strange frenzy of lust flooded every inch of her needy, crazy body.

  If it’s the last thing I do, I will sit on that chair and show it my naked body. Yes, something about the chair’s voice engulfed her in a spell of seduction and temptation.

  Yep. I’ve ingested shrooms. If only I could remember why. Drugs are so uncool. Dirty martinis on the other hand… I think I like those.

  But regardless, she wanted that damned stinking chair.

  The chair spoke again, and she held her breath as did everyone else inside the room, though she suspected it wasn’t for the same reason.

  “Fate,” said the chair, “was born of divine origins, as were we all, but she is not divine, only immortal.”

  Fate, with her short white skirt, and bows and arrows, pointed at Máax. “Liar!”

  Máax laughed with a deep, hearty chuckle. “Fate, this is your chance to come clean. I suggest you do so—perhaps the court will take mercy on you.”

  Fate’s blue-green eyes narrowed. “I have no idea what you mean,” she said innocently.

  “So be it,” he said. “Everyone, Fate cannot see one’s fate, guide one toward their fate, or create fate. She has absolutely no powers and never will. She has been faking it all along, lying to everyone.” That, in itself, was a punishable crime given that Fate had consulted on thousands of matters during summit meetings over the millennia. They had based many important decisions on her words.

  “That’s a lie!” Fate stood from her chair.

  “Nope! No it’s not. Fate is a lying, evil cow.” Cimil clapped. “Why do you think I like her so much?”

  “Shut up, Cimil!” Fate barked. “You crazy bitch.”

  Penelope held out her hands. “Whoa. Fate, is this true? You have no powers?”

  Fate became very silent, but Cimil chomped at the bit to spill the tattletale beans. So she did. “According to my sources, Fate is a dud. A bad egg. The Universe has rejected her. In fact, she’s no more powerful or divine than a regular old human, except that Fate will live forever.”

  “How do you know this?” Penelope asked.

  “Well, that my friends, is the furry little dingleberry all its own, the rotten stench to be revealed shortly as I’m the next batter up. But if you want proof, simply ask Fate to show us her gift.”

  “That proves nothing!” Fate screamed. “K’ak still awaits his flagship gift. Zac just found his. Not having a gift does not mean I’m not a deity.”

  “So you admit you’ve been lying? You have no powers?” Penelope asked.

  “I admit nothing. And may I remind you that I’m not the one on trial here. Máax is!” Fate huffed.

  “Yes,” Penelope agreed, “but for a law that’s outdated, unjust, and should be changed.”

  “Well, you still need fourteen votes to change a sacred law,” Fate pointed out, “and the way I see it, you’re not getting it. With or without me.”

  Cimil raised her hand. “Ooh! Ooh! I’ve got the answer to that one, too!”

  Penelope looked at Cimil with extreme apprehension. “Cimil?”

  “Ashli is numero fourteen!” Cimil clapped wildly.

  Now Máax was lost. “Cimil, you’re not helping me. In fact, I was planning to leverage our sacred policy, which states that any law found to be impossible to execute or uphold shall be null and void.”

  Cimil made a pouty face. “But my angle is way sweeter! Come on! Give it a try. If my little romp through the village of Get the Fuck Out or Shut the Door doesn’t satisfy your drama tooth, then we can always backpedal. Come on. Don’t you want to hear my big news? Dontcha? Dontcha? Huh? Huh?”

  “No. Not really,” Penelope said.

  A cold brick settled in Máax’s stomach. What was Cimil up to? What had she meant about Ashli being number fourteen? “All right, Cimil. I’ll play. Tell us your news.”

  “Say please!” Cimil popped her fist on her waist.

  “Cimiiiil?” Máax growled.

  “Okay! Hold your hookahs!” Cimil hammily cleared her throat. “Máax’s bond with the Universe has broken, and his soul has now fully bonded to Ashli. Two lights, one soul. And as we all know from experience, once that occurs, all sorts of fun things happen—did I ever tell you about the time General DiConti was PMSing with Helena?” Cimil slapped her knee, laughing hysterically, tears forming in her eyes. “Oh, gods! He didn’t know if he wanted to cry or boink her!” She clutched her belly. “Then there was Kinich who lived inside Penelope’s body—Rarrr! Talk about kinky! Then Emma and Votan with their Vulcan mind melding—”

  “Cimil. Enough,” Máax interrupted. “Get to the point.”

  Cimil grin
ned, her turquoise eyes sparkling with giddiness. “From the moment Ashli met you, her light began pulling your power. She is now officially the Goddess of Love as it has always been destined to be.”

  Impossible. “Why do you think Ashli is the Goddess of Love?”

  “Ask Ms. Forget-Me-Yes over there. Ashli popped her good.”

  All heads swiveled toward the Goddess of Forgetfulness who wore a short metallic-silver tank dress and white go-go boots, her blonde hair in Princess Leia spirals over her ears. “It’s true. Ashli hit me with something. It felt pretty good.”

  “See!” Cimil pointed at him. Or the chair. He wasn’t sure. “She inherited your gift of love. And once she learns to use her power correctly—’cause we all know how easily love can go sideways on ya—she’s destined to do many great things for humanity. Personally, I’m hoping she can turn Valentine’s Day into a global holiday. And rename it hump day. Wednesday doesn’t deserve that title.”

  “But my powers have been taken away; I have none,” Máax argued.

  Cimil wagged her finger. “Uh-uh-uh. Your powers weren’t taken away. We just fixed it so that you couldn’t use them, but they remained inside you.”

  “But I am not the God of Love, I never was. I am the God of Truth,” Máax said.

  “Really now?” Cimil smiled. “Think carefully, Máax. Was it truth that drove you to come to our rescue over and over and over again? Or break our laws to help us and later take the punishment? Was it truth that got you to take an oath to Fate to keep her lie a secret? No. It was love, Máax, your love of your brethren. Truth was simply another way of expressing your love—being honest, keeping your word, those are all symptoms of love. Once you lost it, you started lying like a fiend.”

  “A fiend? I lied once,” he protested.

  “And broke your promise to me!” Fate barked.

  “Shut up, Fate,” Penelope said. “Or shall we call you, Fake?”

  “I’m not a fake, I’m just…” She sighed and sank into her chair. “… Just not like you.”

  “So it’s true,” Penelope said.

  “I had powers,” Fate said, “at the very beginning, but then they vanished. I don’t know why. I don’t know what I did.” She sobbed. “And there you were, all of you, complaining about your lives, how hard it was to be the Goddess of Suicide or the God of Death and War. Wah, wah, wah. You’re all a bunch of spoiled rotten deities. You have everything. Some of you even have mates and children on the way.” She pointed at Ashli. “And now that little bitch has the gift of love! I hate you all! I wish nothing but death and suffering on all of you!”

  Cimil chimed in, “Shouldn’t that be suffering and then death? It’s really hard to suffer once you’re dead.”

  “Cimil!” Máax screamed. “Be quiet!”

  Cimil shrank into her chair, crossing her arms. “I save your ass, and that’s the thanks I get?”

  Máax turned toward Ashli who looked like she might keel over at any moment. “Ashli? Can you tell us if this is true? Do you have my gift?”

  Ashli’s gorgeous turquoise eyes seemed to glow against the backdrop of her light brown skin and her wild dark curls flowing past her shoulders. “I-I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t know that chairs could speak, let alone have magical powers of love.”

  Máax refrained from laughing. “You think… I’m a chair?”

  Ashli shrugged. “You’re not?”

  He stood, walked over to her, and then reached out and touched her hand. Ashli yelped and jumped from her seat, scrambling back. “What the hell was that?”

  “Ashli,” Penelope said, “that’s Máax. He’s invisible.”

  Chest heaving, Ashli’s head dropped, and she closed her eyes. Several silent moments passed while everyone waited for her to answer. Did she truly have the gift of love?

  Ashli’s body began to shake, and she laughed toward the sky. “Well, thank goodness for that. I know I’ve totally lost it, but I was really freaking out there when everyone said I’d mated with a chair.”

  Máax gently touched her arm. “No, my love. I am not a chair. A stupid asshole, yes, chair, no. And you are everything to me.”

  Ashli’s eyes shifted from side to side. Clearly this was overwhelming her.

  “Penelope,” Máax said, “why don’t you take a vote now, so that Ashli and I may be on our way.”

  Penelope looked at the faces stretching down the table. “Sure. Just as soon as Fake is removed to a holding cell.”

  The Uchben soldiers approached Fate, and she left quietly. Perhaps she had grown tired of hiding. Perhaps she was already plotting her revenge. Who knew? But it was time for the truth to be out. Máax had protected her secret for thousands of years. All because he pitied her, loved her. She was family. Still was. But it was time for Fate to accept her own fate and grow up. Just as it was time for himself and the other deities. But growing up is hard to do when everything is handed to you on a silver platter. The gods, himself included, needed a reason to evolve, a reason to be better. His reason was Ashli.

  Penelope sat back down and grinned. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Start at the beginning, Penelope,” Kinich said lovingly and placed his arm around her shoulders. “We must change the laws, just as you said.”

  She glowed triumphantly. “Right.”

  Penelope took a vote to change the rules that governed the modification of their sacred laws. A unanimous vote by all fourteen gods would no longer be required. Ashli was the fourteenth vote to approve this change.

  Next, time travel would no longer be banned or a crime, specifically for Máax. He would become their official traveler—the Keeper of Time Travel, although missions would need to be approved by a majority vote.

  “And finally, Máax,” Penelope said, standing from her chair, smiling with tears in her eyes, “I move to lift any and all punishments that have been cast upon you. Your powers will be restored—whatever remains, obviously—and your physical form returned to you.” Penelope looked across the table. “All in favor?”

  The gods raised their hands, smiles on every face.

  “It is a majority vote.” She burst out crying and turned to Kinich.

  Máax took a triumphant breath. The air swirled around him, and his body surged with light, power, and strength. It was finally over. He won, and Ashli had saved him. She’d been the key all along.

  There is no such thing as an accident. It was all meant to be.

  Ashli stared at the chair, her mind spinning with so many questions. For starters, being near this man made her feel so safe, as if she were home. And strangely, it didn’t bother her one bit that she couldn’t remember anything. She felt so full of love. Who was he?

  The air kicked up around them, and she expected someone, him, to appear.

  Nothing.

  “Why can’t we see you?” she asked.

  “I must return to the cenote for a new body. Will you come with me, Ashli?”

  Was he kidding? As weird as it sounded, the only thing keeping her sane right now was him. “Can we bring the chair? I’ve kind of grown attached to it.”

  “Uh… sure, my love.” An invisible hand reached out and dragged her from the rowdy courtroom. She didn’t know where they were heading, but she didn’t care. She’d never felt happier. I think?

  Twenty-Two

  Standing outside of the Court of the Gods under the warm winter sun, Ashli felt relieved to leave the strange place. That scene left her wondering why she would do something so silly as have her memory removed. Clearly, she needed her faculties to deal with… all that. Whatever that was.

  And a goddess? Of love? They must be out of their minds. Máax had attempted to explain their world, how powers resided inside a deity but could be transferred from one being to another if they were connected. He told her how she’d changed his life and how they had spent the night together. He apologized a thousand times for leaving her like he had that morning. Not that she was mad, because that would require
remembering. However, he said that the moment he realized what he had to do, it couldn’t wait. He’d left her in order to expedite the trial, but he never imagined she wouldn’t find his note.

  “I love you, Ashli. And I will fix this. No matter how long it takes, I will make things right again.” He threaded his warm hands through her hair and kissed her hard, sparking erotic images in her mind. Were they her memories or his? Máax explained how their bond allowed them to feel each other’s emotions, how it connected their souls for all eternity.

  She slid her hands around his waist and enjoyed the warmth of his naked body. She couldn’t actually believe the guy just ran around without any clothes.

  Nice. How cool was that?

  The sound of a man clearing his throat caused Máax to abruptly break the kiss.

  “Ah, Sentin. Thank you for volunteering to take us to the cenote,” Máax said.

  The man wore a dark suit and looked like he had just walked off a modeling runway. She recognized him as one of the men who’d been hanging around outside her bedroom door in the morning.

  Sentin beamed down at her. “So. Goddess of Love, huh? Guess that explains why we are all so drawn to you, but I suspect I’d like you regardless.”

  “Give it up, vampire, she’s mine.” Máax’s voice wasn’t angry. More like extremely happy and confident.

  The man’s eyes looked a little sad. Poor thing.

  “Would you like my chair?” Ashli pointed to it. It had seemed wrong to leave it behind, but now it seemed selfish to keep it. After all, she had an actual deity all to herself.

  “Uh… sure. Thanks.” The man nodded and looked at the empty space next to her. “Take good care of her for us, Máax.”

  “Always,” Máax replied.

  “Are you ready, Ashli?” Sentin reached out and latched on to Ashli’s arm. Before she could blink, she found herself standing in the middle of the jungle.

  “All right,” Sentin said. “Here you are. Call if you need anything.” The handsome man whisked away a tear and vanished into thin air.

  “Wow,” Ashli said. “That was amazing.”