“Then, why are you out in the open now?”
“While I haven’t talked to Zeus, I sensed that he was somehow in trouble. Before you state what I already know, yes, I’m aware that he’s currently in another world.”
Diana softly sighed, thankful that there was less she had to explain. “Will you come with me, then?”
His lips pursed, forming a thin line. Clearly he wasn’t happy about the question. “Young lady, you should remain here. Live your life in the manner the gods have intended you to. There is no need for you to accompany me.”
“But—”
“Do I need to command you to stay?” he inquired in a stern tone, his eyebrows furrowing deeply.
“I can show you where he is,” she argued, fruitlessly trying to plead her case.
“That won’t be necessary. I was with Zeus when he first went to Desolace. Myself and others helped to construct the tower which I know he resides in. I sincerely doubt that he would stray from his throne, unless he was captured or coerced in some way. Is that the case?”
“No,” she admitted. She should have been elated that she didn’t have to return to the hellish world of Desolace, but instead Diana was sad. Her shoulders slumped as she tried to accept what Asclepius was telling her. It wasn’t so much that she wanted the accolades of bringing the God of Medicine to Zeus in time to save his life, but rather the feeling of joy she would get from doing something important in her lifetime. It felt like something she was destined to do. The thought of returning to a simple and uncomplicated life seemed meaningless and empty in comparison to what she perceived her fate to be. “I want to go, though,” she protested.
“I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to do so. You are a mortal … and should live your life as such. You have completed the task Zeus gave you. While I admire the courage it took for you to accomplish this feat, I must insist that you step aside and allow gods to take care of godly business.”
Despite her best efforts, Diana couldn’t help but feel worthless and rejected. She was tempted to disregard Asclepius’ wishes and travel back to Desolace anyway. After all, he was the God of Medicine not a warrior, just as she wasn’t exactly suited for battle. At least she’d been there and survived. If it was any other god that had insisted she stay behind, it might have held more weight. He was a healer. If the wrath of a god was something to be feared, how bad could such a thing be when coming from a humble entity like Asclepius?
While the temptation to defy the god was nearly overwhelming, Diana finally consigned herself to stay behind like he’d suggested. Even though she wasn’t afraid of him raining vengeance down upon her, in some way it seemed like sacrilege. The last thing she wanted to have etched in her tombstone when she died was an inscription portraying her as being irreverent. Her cheeks puffed out as she exhaled loudly. “Fine, I’ll stay here. I wish you would change your mind, though.”
A broad smile appeared on his face. “I’m glad you have finally listened to the voice of reason,” Asclepius announced. With a polite nod of his head, he turned and headed up the path toward the portal.
Chapter 25
Upon exiting the portal, Asclepius was disoriented by the time difference between the worlds. It had been quite some time since his last visit to Desolace and he’d forgotten how time passed with greater rapidity on this side of the magical vortex. After allowing his eyes to adjust to the near total darkness, the only illumination provided by the light of the two moons of this world, he surveyed the battlefield before him. If the massacre standing between himself and the tower was any indication, things did not bode well for Zeus. The ground in front of him was soaked with blood and body parts that seemed to be scattered across the landscape in such a manner as to suggest the level of violence in the battle. Not that fights of this magnitude weren’t normally bloody, but this one looked more like the inside of a slaughterhouse. If the army which had caused the gory scene before his eyes had won the fight, then there was a good chance Zeus was already dead. Even so, it was against his nature to ignore people he could heal. If there were any such individuals between himself and the tower, he would be compelled to help them first.
Asclepius hadn’t encountered any injured mortals after traversing half the distance between the portal and the stone spire. The farther he walked, the more he thought it would be unlikely if he found anyone alive. He picked up the pace, methodically searching for survivors, and was surprised when he heard a female voice calling his name.
“Asclepius, wait for me!”
The sound hadn’t come from the portion of battlefield between himself and the tower. It rang out from behind him! Dreading what he would see, he turned toward the familiar voice. “What are you doing here? I thought I instructed you to stay in Syri,” he scolded, his cheeks growing red with anger.
“I changed my mind. I know you don’t think that you need my help, but I have a sneaking suspicion that you’ll thank me soon enough.” Her words came out in a jaunting, ragged gasp as she jogged from the portal to meet him. When she reached his position, Diana bent over and put her hands on her knees while she caught her breath.
“Insolent woman,” he snapped. “If Zeus is still alive, you can believe I will be petitioning him to punish you severely for your temerity.”
“He can do whatever he likes with me. All I care about is making sure he lives,” she retorted, a smug smile creasing her features as she crossed her arms in front of her bosom.
“If it were up to me, I would have Zeus strike you with a lightning bolt where you stand!”
“Well, it’s not your decision. I don’t care what you think or say … you need me,” Diana stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
“What makes you so confident that you can do something which I can’t?”
“If the foul creatures I escaped from initially when I was sent to find you are still lurking about, you are going to need a diversion in order to reach Zeus.”
Her statement caused him to pause briefly. “This wasn’t the work of humans?” Asclepius inquired, gesturing with one hand toward the carnage.
“They might have been human at some point, but when I eluded them to get to the portal they appeared to be reanimated corpses.”
“How is that possible? Even I can’t bring back the dead.” His brows furrowed with worry. If the woman was telling the truth and not just making up some tall tale of her adventures, he had no idea how to handle the situation. Dealing with mortals was one thing. This, on the other hand, seemed way out of his league. Even coping with cranky gods seemed preferable. He should know. He’d dealt with Aphrodite’s temper tantrums enough times, and often with her brother Ares as well. Just thinking about Zeus’ son caused a shiver to run down his spine. Ares’ bouts of rage were nearly impossible to diffuse, and from what he saw lying on the ground around him right now, it was entirely possible that the massacre was his doing. Maybe not first-hand, but surely the scattered bits of gore were the handiwork of his disciples.
Asclepius didn’t like to admit the outside chance that the woman was correct in saying he needed her help, although what she could do to aid him was just beyond his comprehension. What did she expect to do to create a diversion, flap her arms and cluck like a chicken? Attempting what she suggested seemed like a suicide mission to him. There had to be a different alternative. “In your brief experience with these matters, is our only option to lure these creatures away from Zeus? Would he not be able to destroy them with the bolts of lightning that he favors?” His lips pressed into a thin line and he exhaled loudly through his nostrils.
“In my humble opinion, I believe it’s the only way,” Diana replied. “The only thing I’ve witnessed that incapacitated them was when they were crushed under the feet of a dragon or dropped from the sky, high above. Both of these circumstances, however, are not a guarantee of a specific outcome. While the abominations appeared to have been obliterated and incapable of movement, it seems like there would still be a chance that they could be a threat. Aft
er all, if I’m correct in assuming that they’re dead, it begs the question … how do you kill something which wasn’t living to begin with? You can’t exactly rip out their beating hearts.”
He sighed heavily, realizing that each point she made was valid. Asclepius was wasting time by trying to figure out a solution that would keep the woman out of harm’s way. It was unavoidable, and further stalling would very likely spell doom for Zeus. He had to make a decision, and quickly. The King of the Gods' life depended on it. “Very well, you’ve made your point. We shall try things your way.” Asclepius watched her face light up with joy, though he failed to understand why she seemed so happy. To him, it was like he’d just given her a death sentence.
“Then, let’s go,” Diana shouted excitedly, rushing toward the entrance of the stone spire. A few minutes later, she stopped just outside of the gaping aperture and held out her hand. “Wait here for me,” she instructed. “Stay off to one side or the other, though. Otherwise, when I come back you might get plowed over by the entourage that should be right on my tail.”
Although it irritated him to take orders from a mortal, he stepped to the right of the open doorway. A gruesome, bloody handprint adorned the outer wall where he stood, trickles of the crimson fluid smearing the stone beneath it.
Once she saw that he was in position, Diana gave him a hopeful smile. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Asclepius wasn’t as certain as she was. For a few minutes, he heard the slap of her feet on the stone steps, but soon he was shrouded in silence with only his thoughts to listen to.
***
Right on queue, the leading edge of the zombie horde began to shuffle into the audience chamber from the stairway. Ten minutes had passed since the shaman’s collapse. Thankfully, his wits had begun to return a few moments before the undead threat arrived. Brian wasn’t at full strength, however, but whatever he could muster would have to suffice. Nothing Zeus did even slowed these wretched creatures down. The red-haired man was their only hope.
Brian raised his weary head and gazed toward the chamber’s entrance. A pit of disgust formed in his stomach. Why is this happening? What did I ever do to be so cursed? It seemed that no matter what he did, or on what world, he could not shake the horrors of his former life. The zombie apocalypse was real! It didn’t matter what world you called home, the foul creatures managed to find a way to infest it with their putrid stench and withered bodies.
A slight tremor developed in his hands as he briefly remembered the distant days of his priesthood. Until the undead had begun to outnumber the living on Earth, he had often thought that his faith would save him and those he held dear to his heart. Those days were long gone now. Thankfully, he’d looked in other places for salvation when the god he’d devoted most of his life to had failed. Even so, he wasn’t as proficient as he would like to be with the abilities of the shaman he now had at his disposal. Oftentimes he intermingled these talents with his former religion, thus creating an entirely new gift. More times than not, this altered skill had saved his life and everyone’s around him. Although, the last instance where he’d been faced with a large number of undead, Edward had turned them into zombie popsicles. He didn’t have that luxury today. He would have to take control of the situation on his own.
The shaman took a deep breath and closed his eyes. As he began to focus his mind to the task at hand, the trembling in his extremities quickly abated. He could sense the undead closing in on him, probably less than twenty feet from him. It was a good thing that his powers appeared to regenerate more rapidly the more often he used them. Otherwise he’d be a sitting duck. It was also a blessing that the mere, close proximity of evil no longer affected him to the same extremes he’d dealt with in the past. His breath was labored, as he had grown accustomed to, but it wasn’t the feeling of suffocation that it once was.
Zeus took a few steps backward when Brian’s eyelids opened once again. They were no longer the shade of blue they’d previously been. His eyes were glazed over, making him look like a distant relative to the creatures he faced. The volume of the shaman’s voice rose in intensity, the chant inciting his foes to greater speed. It was as if they knew something was up, and they were determined to put an end to the threat. The zombies nearly got to him! Mere seconds before the horde of undead could reach Brian, he lifted his arms, palms facing the sky, as if he were encouraging a bird to fly. As they rose, so to did the familiar flames of what his friends called holy fire. The conflagration stretched from floor to ceiling in a matter of seconds.
As the flames cast their blinding light, the shaman sank to the floor. His energy was depleted once more, so when he heard a feminine voice shouting from somewhere behind the undead, all he could do was pray that the foolish woman wouldn’t venture into the brightly lit chamber. Brian had no idea how the magical fire would react if it came in contact with an actual living person, and he didn’t want to find out either. He was so drained that he could barely hold his head up, but at least his eyes had begun to clear and his breath was coming just a fraction easier. This normally meant one of two things—either the evil he battled against was retreating, or it had been consumed by the holy blaze.
The woman’s shrill voice seemed to be calling out in desperation, the same two words resonating from her mouth. “Hey!” followed a few seconds later by, “Hello?” Brian wasn’t sure whose attention she was trying to get, although he got the sense that she was attempting to garner the focus of the undead. Was it one of Zeus’ followers? He knew the god had sent his flock back to Earth to find Asclepius, but he hadn’t thought anyone would return so quickly, if at all. Had this woman found the god of medicine? If so, there might still be a tiny glimmer of hope.
Brian quickly discovered that his spell wasn’t quite as effective as his prior uses of it. While the heatless flames worked to do the shaman’s bidding, the shuffling creatures caught within the inferno continued toward their objective. Some sizzled and popped like the embers in a hearth, but others seemed unaffected. If Edward had been here to freeze them in place, this likely wouldn’t be an issue. However, since he was not, a small portion of the wretched horde moved toward Brian with hungry purpose. It would have been an even greater number, but the female voice in the stairway had drawn the majority of the zombies toward her. There was nothing he could do to help her, though.
Zeus cringed when he saw the undead emerge from the flames. Their sickly-looking flesh appeared to have begun melting while they were in the magical pyre, but despite this they still came, leaving drops of bloody, liquefied skin in their wake that seemed similar to the pustules on a teenager’s face as they hit the floor. Although his previous attempts had yielded no results, Zeus knew that if he did nothing the creatures would fall on the shaman like a flock of vultures. As he moved to put himself between Brian and the persistent few zombies a scream could be heard from somewhere outside. The shriek seemed so loud that it could have come from within the audience chamber. Although no words were spoken, Zeus was almost certain that he knew the owner of the screeching voice … Asclepius!
As Zeus rushed to the window, the few zombies who’d been focused on Brian followed after him, drawn by the sounds of distress. The King of the Gods gazed through the aperture and cringed. The caterwauling God of Medicine was dangling from the claw of an enormous dragon! The first rays of morning sun illuminated the scene, revealing the sickly pallor of the dragon’s hide. Zeus had seen red and gold scaled creatures in his time upon Desolace, but never a beast of this hue. The mythical monster appeared to have an affliction similar to that of the living corpses which had infiltrated the tower. If his assumption was correct, would the creature be cursed with a hunger for human flesh like the shuffling abominations intent on dining in the audience chamber?
He took a quick peek over his shoulder and noticed that Brian was slightly more lively than a few moments ago. From the corner of his eye, he saw that the interest of the undead was still upon him. Zeus wasn’t entirely certain what would ha
ppen if one of the zombies bit into him. Would it be something a god could survive, or would his skin change to the color of death? No matter what might happen, the shaman had saved his life … even if the respite had been short-lived. The least he could do was return the favor. Reaching into the pocket of his flowing robe, Zeus plucked a key from its depths and tossed it toward Brian. It clanged as it hit the stone floor and skittered within the red-haired man’s reach.
“Grab the key!” Zeus commanded. “Go to the back of the room, directly across from the stairway you ascended to get here. You will find a keyhole in the wall that opens a secret entrance. Go inside, then climb to the pinnacle of the spire. There is a small chamber at the top that you can barricade yourself within. Stay there until you hear from me.”
Despite the misgivings he had about following such an order, Brian picked up the ornate key. With a sigh of resignation, he rose to his feet. He slowly limped his way to where Zeus had instructed him to go, using the massive pillars to hide behind as he deliberately moved away from danger. After his success in renewing the vigor of the god, it pained him to leave Zeus to fend for himself. Like the commander of a vessel at sea, it seemed as if the King of the Gods wished to go down with the sinking ship.
When Brian reached the back wall, it took a few moments for him to find the keyhole Zeus had told him about. As he inserted the key and turned it, the shaman took one last look back toward the chaos. Just as he was about to turn away, an enormous claw appeared in the window near Zeus. In moments, a gaping hole appeared in the wall as the dragon once known as Skarr ripped the stone blocks away with her talons. It sickened Brian to see the magnificent creature in such a state, surely infected by the zombies which plagued humankind. To punctuate this thought, the dragon opened her maw as if she were intending to engulf the room in flames. Instead, a shadowy mist blew from her gaping mouth. The necrotic fog obscured everything, quickly filling the audience chamber.
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