by Matt King
Her clothes were the last to form. He let his eyes linger for a split-second longer than politeness allowed. There were a handful of outfits she’d memorized for blending in while on Earth and she'd chosen the yellow sundress for this visit. As she scanned the inside of the boxcar, he noticed her slight frown. It was one of the many things he failed to understand about her. She could have made herself look like anything, and yet she never seemed far from tears.
“An interesting means of transportation,” she said as she scanned the inside of the boxcar.
“It gets me where I need to go.”
“And lends you to attacks along the way, apparently. August, your abilities are not a toy.”
“I know. I can explain—”
“You would do well not to experiment with your limits. You are not immortal.”
“I remember.” He finished re-wrapping what was left of his burger and jammed it back inside the bag. “What was I supposed to do? They had my swords.”
“Swords you left behind for anyone to walk away with.”
“Look, I know you’re not from around here, but I can’t just waltz up and down the street with those things on my back. People tend to take notice of guys who look like mercenaries.”
“Yes, but how does nearly killing a man by stuffing his mouth with…” She paused, looking directly into his eyes. “…peanuts make you any less noticeable?”
“Did you just pull that word out of my head?”
The scowl on her face hardened. “Need I remind you that you are not to bring attention to yourself? You know the dangers.”
Coburn. That's who she was talking about, even if she didn't say the name. He wondered how much longer he had until the Horsemen picked up his trail. It was a topic he tried not to think too much about, but that didn't mean he was any closer to being in the clear.
“Can't you just...take care of those guys for me?” he asked.
“We have discussed this.”
“I was hoping you'd reconsidered.”
“I will not reduce myself to taking lives indiscriminately.”
“Okay. Thought I'd ask.” He switched to the subject he knew she came to talk about. “Anyway, while you were playing around up in space or wherever it is you go, I was down here digging up some info on our guy.”
Her eyes lit up. “You know where to find him?”
“Well…no. Not yet, but he can't be too far off.” August stood and reached into his backpack to find his leather jacket. He fished a crumpled picture out of the inside pocket. “This was his latest. I was only a couple days behind him this time.”
Meryn accepted the picture with a sigh. Like the others before it, the photograph showed a bus station nearly burned to the ground, with bodies strewn amongst the ashes, their skin charred to a black crust. Victims were listed as unidentified, but not for lack of trying.
“The cops are calling this guy ‘Gemini.’”
“Gemini?” She handed the picture back to him. “What is the significance of that name?”
He shrugged.
“If you know this, why have you not found him?”
“It’s not that easy. A nickname doesn't come with a homing beacon. All I know is that these scenes are getting worse, and he’s moving north again.”
“I see.” Meryn crossed her arms. She lowered her head.
“Hey, come on, it’s not that bad. Like I said, I'm closer. All I need is another week or two and I can get this guy.”
“I am afraid that is no longer possible.”
“Wh—what do you mean it's no longer possible?”
“I'm sorry, August. Unfortunately, we have run out of time.”
“But you said I'd have months....”
“I know. I wish that were still true. Events are moving at a faster pace than I had anticipated.”
“Great. That’s just great.”
He leaned against the stack of crates behind him. All that work, and for what? He folded the picture between his fingers. On the bright side, letting Gemini go meant that he’d finally get to fight in the war she kept telling him was coming, and maybe then he could stop looking over his shoulder for Coburn and his boogeymen.
“So eager to see your world in flames, are you?”
He could feel her in his head. “You know I hate it when you do that.”
“Gemini will remain your target, but I want you to find someone else first.”
“Who?”
“His name is Bear Lawson.”
August watched her for a second to see if she was joking. When she didn’t flinch, he laughed anyway. “Bear? You want me to find someone named Bear? Why? To convince him to change his name?”
“You've always known there would be another champion like you. The situation grows more dangerous by the day. He will help you.”
“I don't see how taking me off the trail of the guy you said could kill us all is helping.”
“August...”
“I can handle this on my own.”
“It is not a request.”
She looked uncomfortable taking the hard line. He decided to let it go. “Fine. Where is he?”
“North, in a city called Fairview.”
“North Carolina. Well at least I'm going the right way. How much does he know?”
She shook her head. “Nothing yet.”
“Fantastic.”
“I wish I could be there with you,” she said, “but you will have to speak to Bear on your own. I have to go. Do your best to explain the dangers we face. He may be hard to convince, but you will need him in the days ahead.”
“And where will you be?”
She glanced toward the night sky. Her eyes scanned the stars as though she were searching for something that wasn't there. “Amara has called for an immediate gathering of the Circle.”
“Oh.” He hadn't been expecting that. “So this is it.”
“Yes.”
“How do you think she’ll take it?”
Meryn's expression wilted. “Not well.”
She walked to the car's open door. Her image was already starting to fade.
“I will see you again soon,” she said, looking back. “Be careful, and do not let your guard down.”
He gave her a quick salute and watched as she dissolved into a cloud of twinkling flecks before disappearing altogether into the night.
The car felt colder after she left. Wind swirled through the bullet holes in his shirt, raising goosebumps on his skin. He dug through his bag for a replacement. Only three tees left in the rotation. Maybe he'd head into town for some shopping when he got to his new destination. Fairview. He shook his head at the thought of it. Adding a sidekick was only going to slow him down.
A faint whiff of chili reminded him that he hadn't finished dinner yet. It didn’t matter that he had no use for food anymore—this was a hamburger he was talking about, possibly mankind’s greatest invention. He grabbed the bag and walked back to lean against the door while he fished out the wrapper. The cheese clung to the paper, hard as cement. He tore it free and took a bite large enough to choke a horse.
His smile crumbled.
What had once been moist and delicious was now soggy and tasted like sadness. He spit out the bite and threw the rest into the passing weeds.
So much for enjoying the finer things in life while they’re still around.
CHAPTER TWO
Meryn was the first of the gods to arrive for the Circle’s meeting. They held their gatherings at the edge of the universe, a dark and potentially violent place. Fitting, she thought, given what I’m about to do.
The rest of the immortals emerged from portals—called synapses by the gods—one after the other: Cerenus, cocksure and quick-witted, Tamaril, Cerenus’ intellectual equal and longtime enemy, Balenor and Soraste, two gods she considered friends, Paralos, her would-be ally, and finally Amara, bookended by Galan and Anemolie, the pair of them locked in constant battle for her attention. In their purest forms, the gods of the Circl
e were perfect creatures of energy, each with the power to imbue life by their presence alone. The effects of their assembly began to transform the surroundings. Molecules left dormant since the birth of the universe began to move, cluster, and grow. Excited by the influx of energy, they clashed, and their collision bore elements which built around the group of gods like a rising thunderhead.
It was a spectacle of creation, but Meryn had no time to appreciate its beauty. Her concentration trembled beneath the weight of her secrets. She only needed to shield her plans from the Circle until the moment was right. In the meantime, she quietly took her usual spot beside Amara, the brightest light amongst the immortals, who called their meeting to order.
“My brothers and sisters, our Circle is complete,” Amara said. Her thoughts spread through the group as a series of electrical impulses. “Welcome, all of you, to this momentous day.”
Balenor burst into the center. “Lady Amara, I—”
Galan moved forward, stopping Balenor’s advance before he got too close to her. His light shone bright red, pushing the timid god back into place.
The interruption quelled, Amara went forward with her ritual. She projected a well-known image into the minds of her subjects. Meryn let it in, taking pains to keep Amara from pushing farther into her thoughts. Like a painting being created before her eyes, the violent eruptions of star matter faded away, replaced by an idyllic backdrop of endless fields of green grass and crystal lakes. They looked down on the landscape from an open-air temple atop a forested mountain, with ivory columns wrapped in flowering ivy. A raised oval pond separated the gods, filled with tiny aquatic creatures that flickered like stars. The pond was supposed to represent the universe. Meryn and the rest of the Circle kept watch over it while they stood in Amara’s vision of life beyond life—Ascension.
As part of their custom, each of the gods took on the appearance of their human lineage. The corporeal avatar was a grounding reminder of their mortal roots. Meryn ran her fingers absently across the white silk of her Somelian dress. She wondered if her home world would be proud of her for what she was about to set into motion.
“By the grace of Pyra,” Amara said, commencing their meeting. Threads of diamond strands wove through her loosely braided silver hair. “Now, what is troubling you, Balenor?”
“Lady Amara, I am begging you,” he replied, casting a wary eye toward Galan before speaking. “There are only nine of us left. Please, reject this challenge from Paralos to preserve what is left of our kind.”
Paralos, looking ages older than Amara even though she was the first immortal born, answered with no veil to his anger. “If the Lady agrees to battle, then let her do what she will. Not everyone in this Circle fears her as you do, Balenor.”
“Paralos, be reasonable. This cannot be allowed to happen. There is balance to consider.”
“Balance?” Sparks of red lit Paralos’ eyes. “The Circle has not had balance since our Lady last murdered one of our own. Will you stand by and let it happen again?”
“Ule could not accept his calling,” Amara said. “We must all make the ultimate sacrifice to serve Pyra when the time comes. Without it, our race cannot fully know what it is to live. Death is part of life. He was given the choice of how to make his passage. He chose a painful path.”
“How convenient that you are the one to decide when this time comes.”
“Pyra speaks through me.”
Paralos shook his head. “Madness. This phantom speaks to you and you use it to justify genocide. Your delusions will be the end of us all. Can the rest of you not see this?”
The group’s reluctance to answer was as much a referendum on Paralos as it was Amara, Meryn thought. Years of strained relations with the rest of the Circle had taken its toll on his support. Cerenus wouldn’t so much as make a joke at his expense. Meryn looked away as the silence stretched.
“Our time in this universe is at an end, Paralos,” Amara answered. “Ule is with Pyra now. You should envy him, as we all should.”
“Time has only stolen your sanity. Ule died because of your senseless obsession and nothing more!”
“You hide your ambitions behind anger and bluster, but we are not so easily deceived. The Circle knows you all too well. Your challenge is little more than a foolish grab for power. Remember, it was not I that brought this upon you.” Amara did little to hide the satisfaction in her voice. She moved to the formal declaration Meryn and the others had been called to hear. “Are you prepared for war, Paralos of Ardanylae?”
Balenor leaned over the pulsing lights of the pond. “Paralos, please. You, alone, can preserve our Circle’s peace.”
“There can never be peace,” Paralos replied. “Sooner or later her blind devotion will see to it that peace dies along with those who crave it.”
Amara guided Balenor back into place with a single glance. She always knew how to deal with the gods of the Circle. By not matching Paralos’ anger, she cast herself as the calm and sensible one. With Balenor, her authority was on full display, treating him more like a nervous child who needed a strong hand to comfort him. Meryn once thought of her actions as leadership, but now she saw them for what they truly were—manipulation.
“My Lady,” Galan said. “It would seem there is no recourse but war. Will you allow me the honor of reciting the rules of battle?”
“The honor is yours,” she answered.
Galan edged forward, punctuating his self-appointed glory by placing himself squarely between Amara’s view of his rival, Anemolie. The red, slotted pupils of his black eyes settled on the less pious members of the group before he spoke.
Never one for subtlety.
“For the love of Pyra,” he began.
“For Her love,” they answered in unison.
Meryn let her attention fade as he read the rules, choosing instead to shore the mental barriers surrounding her intentions. She already knew the laws by heart. Despite Galan’s love of the ceremony of war, there were only three rules that mattered. First, because the gods were too powerful to fight for themselves, each combatant had to choose champions imbued with their own energy to lead their armies in battle. When one god’s champions were all dead, they forfeited their life. The second rule was meant to deter others from joining the fight. If another wanted to join, they had to fight first.
Meryn closed her eyes at the thought.
“And finally,” Galan said. “Under no circumstances can a god interfere with the proceedings of war. To do so is punishable by death.” He delivered the words making full use of his deep, resonating voice, perhaps to make sure that the other members understood the gravity of such an act.
Amara addressed Paralos. “Will you agree to these rules, Paralos, and consent to the punishment for breaking them?”
“I will,” he answered.
“Then we move to select a neutral world for our armies to meet. As challenger, you forfeit the choice of battlefield.”
She paused long enough to collect their attention. The certainty of conflict descended upon them like an unwelcome storm; Meryn could see it in their wilting expressions. Amidst the solemn faces, Amara looked toward Meryn with a proud smile. “As a reward for her lifetime of service, I have given the selection of the world to my confidante, and my friend. Meryn, if you please.”
Amara motioned for her to speak. As Meryn fought to present an air of pride, she could sense Amara searching through her thoughts, trying to find a weakness in the mental walls she no doubt noticed. Meryn spoke her scripted words quickly to keep from losing her concentration.
“It is a great honor to accept this gift. You will have your war, Paralos. And you will have it on Earth.”
The Circle withdrew into silence once again. Meryn recognized the way they looked at each other. Their faces read equal parts disbelief and unfamiliarity. She’d seen the same reaction during the early days of Ule’s rebellion. Eventually, Amara’s calming smile pacified some of the group. Others, like Cerenus, couldn’t hide the
flashes of doubt in their eyes, perhaps wondering if maybe one day they’d be in Paralos’ place. Such things rarely escaped Amara’s notice. They were choosing sides whether they knew it or not.
The light in Paralos’ eyes quivered and pulsed red. “This is your idea of a neutral battlefield? One so biased toward your servant?” He looked from Amara to Meryn. “Choose another or declare your cowardice in front of us all.”
Amara answered calmly. “You know as well as I that Meryn has not revealed herself to the people of Earth. The choice is fair.”
“Fair,” he scoffed. “Their species is weak, but even the smallest weight can be enough to tip the balance.”
“Nevertheless, the rules are clear and the choice has been made. Do you forfeit before the war has even begun? Will you be so easily beaten because of one world among the countless?”
Paralos glanced to Galan, who awaited the answer with a smile on his face. “No,” he said. “I accept your choice.”
“We are all witness,” she answered. “You are bound to war. Ready your armies and choose your champions, Paralos.” She addressed the rest of the Circle. “Will another among you join this fight? Is there another who wishes to enter into battle?”
“I will,” Galan said. No one showed surprise as he threw his support behind her again, just as he had against Ule. “I offer the worlds under my control, the champions of my service, and my life to your cause.”
“This is unfair.” Soraste spoke with no shortage of nerves in her voice. “Paralos cannot possibly withstand you both.”
Amara turned to her. “Will you fight by his side?”
Soraste lowered her head, glancing apologetically toward Paralos before shrinking back into her place around the pond.
“Then Paralos fights alone. Now, if there is nothing else…”
Meryn closed her eyes. She knew the nervous thoughts rattling through her would shine bright for others to see. It’s time now. No more hiding. After a long breath, she opened them again. “Wait,” she said.