by James Hunter
“These points,” she said more confidently, “they can be used to upgrade any of your four primary skills, making you stronger, faster, wiser, smarter, and deadlier in battle. You also gain one Ability Point per level, and these can be used to unlock special skills located in the skill trees.” She paused, eyes flicking back and forth as though reading an instruction manual. “Ares has created three such skill trees, the Path of War, the Path of Miracles, the Path of the Builder.
“So,” she said, spreading her hands wide, “now you must decide on the best strategy for increasing both your own prowess and the power of our armies. When Ares was at his best, he could control thousands of Amazons, he was twenty feet tall, impervious to most weapons, deadly accurate with his spear and his sword, and could unleash a host of miracles to slaughter his enemies. You will need to grow into that power over time, but eventually, you shall be as he was—assuming you live that long. For primary attributes, I see Strength, Willpower, Intelligence, and Fortune.”
I nodded. “Right,” I said, “so where should I start? I mean, there are a crazy number of options here.”
Again she paused, giving me a long measuring look. “Repairing the city and its defenses are vital to our success long-term, but for now, I believe our primary focus should be building more Amazons. For that, though, we need more raw materials, and you must increase your control limit. But, we must carefully balance our need for troops. You must also increase your prowess as a warrior, Jacob Merely. If you die, then we die with you. And if we die, the world dies. Our very selves are tied to your life and the godstone. So, to these ends, I would suggest adding four points to Strength, three to Willpower, and three to Intelligence. All of that will aid us in the long run.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Can I undo what I did? To your leg and your memories, I mean?”
“In time perhaps,” she said, though one look at her face told me she was likely lying. “But that is not important now. You need my mind, and that, at least, is fine. You need me to build. That I can do.”
I laughed. “Okay, here we go.”
I dropped four points into strength, which raised it from ten to fourteen. Accepting the change, new power flowed through me. The gem lit up in my chest. Gazing down, I watched my muscles hulk out. I grew six inches, and my arms expanded, as did my chest. I was in okay shape, but nothing to write home about, but by adding to my strength, the fat on my belly melted away. Suddenly, I was ripped like the Marine Corps gym rats who lived night and day for working out. I even felt better. I was still hungry, but I’d just been given a dose of fucking god power.
Righteous.
“Oh … yeahhhhh!!!” I shouted happily, grinning maniacally as I pumped one fist in the air.
Phoebe stepped back. “Impressive.” She eyeballed me up and down. “All of the ladies will love you, but then, that was how we were created. Now, get on with the more interesting attributes. Your steak and cake muscles do not interest me.”
“Beefcake,” I corrected, pointing a finger gun at her. “Not stake and cake, beefcake. But an A for effort.”
She smiled. “I was close. I would like to spend more time in your mind. I can learn much—plus, this chocolate substance intrigues me. There is a lot in there about it.”
“Uh, chocolate is awesome. Wait until you learn about donuts. They’re like ambrosia, but deep-fried.” I transferred three of the Attribute Points to Willpower as I talked. Immediately, I went from ten to twenty-one Divine Essence Points. More power surged into me like a jolt of lightning straight from a storm cloud. Every one of my cells buzzed with new life. My senses sharpened. I could smell the tang and salt of the ocean and hear the call of a gull down on the beach. Heck, if I really concentrated, I could listen to the murmur of kelp being strewn upon the white sand.
Holy crap. I had superpowers.
Phoebe nodded her approval. “Yes, there is a bit of the old Ares we knew. This might work. Unless it does not, and then we will all die.”
I rolled my eyes at her biting comment. “Okay, let’s make me smarter.” I added my last three stat points to Intelligence, going from a ten to a thirteen. My control limit increased to eight. A lightbulb seemed to click inside my skull, and all at once, those obscure math formulas and English lit metaphors from college made sense inside my brain. I still felt like me, but I also felt better than the best me. I pulled up my character sheet, marveling at how a few minor changes could have such a monumental effect:
I smiled, then scrolled down to the three different skill trees available to me. I only had one point to spend, but I didn’t want to go gallivanting into danger without applying that bad boy. After all, how much would it suck to die a horrible death at the hands of some Fury because I’d been point hoarding? Nope, not gonna happen. First, I pulled up the Path of War Tree, looking at the options, before closing out and moving on. That seemed like the way to go for a hand-to-hand brawler. Someone who wanted to be up close and personal, with a sword buried in their enemy’s stomach.
Which wasn’t me.
Next, I pulled up the Path of the Builder—that one had a lot of promise. The skills revolved around crafting. There were skills to reduce the time and resource costs of creating just about everything from Amazons and weapons to food and siege weapons. From there, I could also imbue weapons and armor with magical abilities and increase the Amazon’s MAX Level. But all of that seemed like it would be useful down the road, once I had a decent sized army.
So instead I turned to the Path of Miracles, which felt like the best fit at the moment. I wasn’t afraid to fight if push came to shove, but I was a fighter pilot by trade, so the idea of dealing damage from afar or providing aerial support for ground troops was seriously appealing. And that’s precisely what the Path of Miracles allowed me to do—I could cast a variety of deadly spells, which were fueled by Essence Points. Basically, I could lash out at enemies without ever having to get in close and dirty. I examined the branch more closely:
There were six miracles available in the tree: Divine Spark, Lightning Lance, Healing Touch, Burning Aura, Plague Locust, and Wrath. After a few minutes of intense scrutiny, I nodded my head and dropped my first point into Divine Spark, which increased my Essence Points by one-third, shooting me from 21 to 28. It also unlocked the next skill in the tree, Lightning Lance, which looked like a fantastic ranged ability. I mean, seriously. Who doesn’t want to hurl lightning bolts? With that done, I closed out of the interface entirely and turned toward Phoebe. In the same instant my stomach let out a growl of hunger, dutifully reminding me just how long it’d been since I’d had a meal.
“Path of Miracles,” she said, giving me another of her weighing looks. “It is a good fit for you, and the added Essence Points will serve us well at this early stage. Now, you should set out immediately and begin scouring the island for materials. Meanwhile, I will use the Hammer of Hephaestus to begin forging our army.”
“I don’t disagree,” I replied, then faltered as I saw a new submenu, which would allow me to share my display with Phoebe without holding her hand. That would make things a whole lot easier. “Sorry, give me a sec,” I muttered, hastily setting up a subroutine to trigger the mental connection—though I gave Phoebe the option of rejecting the connection if she was uncomfortable with the invasion of her personal space. And let’s face it, the inside of your own skull is about as personal as personal space gets.
A heartbeat later, her voice filled my head. You gave me a choice. Ares never did. When he wanted to instruct me, he would simply take control of me. Thank you, Jacob, for giving me a choice, though I promise not to abuse it.
I noticed that when we were connected, her voice flowed naturally into my head, and she didn’t pause or have to concentrate on the words she was looking for. It sounded effortless.
I tried out the telepathy, and it was like messaging to my gaming friends. Phoebe, this is so cool! And yes, you have a choice. I don’t know what kind of boss Ares was, but that’s not how I’m go
ing to run the show. We’re in this together, and I need your help as much as you need mine. Now as I was saying, I don’t disagree, but first I need some food. My stomach growled again as though in confirmation. I need it badly.
You are in luck then, Jacob Merely, for Asteria went hunting earlier—there’s food ready and waiting.
Almost as if on cue, a savory scent drifted through the air and tickled my nostrils. Meaty, salty, delicious. It smelled like … well, like bacon. But where in the world would they get bacon from? A shudder raced down my spine as I thought of the horrific spiders, with their bloated bodies and piggy faces covered in too many eyes.
Phoebe was right there to confirm my suspicions. Yes, Jacob, that’s bacon. And yes, it came from the arachnaswine.
Despite the mild disgust I felt at the idea, my stomach protested again—feed me, feed me! it shouted. I’d crash-landed on a magic island, I reminded myself, and beggars can’t be choosers. Arachnaswine would have to do the trick.
Being connected, Phoebe could anticipate my desire for privacy. She turned around so I could slip out of bed and put on underwear and then my flight suit without her prying eyes roving over my body.
Really, we were teasing you, Jacob, came her voice. It’s not that small. Phoebe then threw in a LOL, trying out a bit of slang, pulled from my mind. Yeah, just like messaging, where my buddies would give me shit. In my head, Phoebe sounded like a Silicon Valley programmer and not her old-school self.
“Not going to discuss that, Phoebe. Nope, not going to do it,” I said out loud.
I’ll see if I can hack the menus and maybe you can use stat points to grow …
“Not funny, and we’re done,” I said sternly, bending over to slip my combat boots on.
Phoebe shrugged, her back still turned. “Yes, we will stop teasing you. After all, jests are in poor taste when we have the world to save. So, let us go eat and strategize with Myrina.” She waved a hand toward the door.
“Sounds like a plan,” I replied.
Time to go see what spider-pig bacon tasted like.
ELEVEN
Spider-Bacon
Piles of crisp, sizzling arachnapork—which looked suspiciously like bacon—sat in a heap on a platter in the main dining hall, just north of the palace. There, I found Myrina standing over a sprawling fire pit as thick curls of smoke poured out into the clear afternoon air. I’d slept most of the morning away—more hours lost while Hades stirred and Praxidike gathered her army. On the bright side, I’d leveled up, and I had food. I wasn’t going to think about the hairy legs I’d seen sprouting from the sides of the pigs, nor the venom dripping off their tusks. No, I’d eat my bacon and lick the grease off my fingers, because bacon was bacon, dammit.
Myrina gave me a calculating glance as I made my way to a hulking wooden banquet table edged by long benches. I plopped down, and Phoebe took a seat on the opposite side of the table, seemingly lost in thought.
Silently, Myrina brought over the tray of steaming meat, slammed it down on the tabletop, then hustled off to retrieve a cracked pitcher of water, some wooden cups, and a trio of bronze plates. She set those down and slipped in next to Phoebe, before spearing a fatty slab of bacon with a wicked knife. “We shall plan while we eat,” she said matter-of-factly, plunking the crackling pork down on her plate. “We cannot be caught without our full power, though it seems we have been given a weak god of war to deal with.”
I flexed a bicep, impressed with myself. “Not so weak, Myrina. You’ll see. This is going to work out. But what I need is experience points and lots of them.” I lifted the platter and used my K-Bar to knock a dozen pieces of bacon onto my plate.
I stole a tentative bite, but, sure enough, it was bacon. It seemed the eight legs didn’t wreck the taste after all. As I swallowed the first bite, I got a little tang of something unpleasant, but I kept right on eating. Even slightly off bacon was still bacon, and after more than a day without food, I was ravenous.
“What are experience points?” Myrina asked, her forehead furrowed in suspicion.
Phoebe shrugged, then cocked her head to one side. “Hard to explain. It is a new type of system Ares set up for our baby god. It will allow Jacob to gradually grow into the mantle of the war god without being consumed by its power. It is a strange system, but it is what we have to work with.” She picked up a strip of meat and nibbled at one end, eating rather daintily for an Amazon.
“Come on, guys,” I pleaded, “give me a break.”
“Break what?” Myrina snapped. “You speak in riddles while this city is in ruins and the enemy is on our very doorstep. There were dozens of the adult arachnaswine. I killed three and then escaped their wrath, but we must deal with them. And soon. I saw hundreds of spiderlings that will grow to full size if we don’t burn the webs.”
“And gain experience points at the same time,” I said, shooting her a finger gun. “And bring home the bacon. And gather more resources so Phoebe can use them to build stuff. This is all going to work out, Myrina. You’ll see.”
Myrina glared at me. “So you say. Yet the weapons from our last battle with Hades lie scattered about and are woefully dull and aged.” With the rasp of metal on leather, she unsheathed a short Greek sword, known as a xiphos, and tossed it onto the table. “Pitiful. And the spears are equally worthless.”
“My crossbow was broken in the battle,” Phoebe said, chewing contentedly on a piece of pork. “But I can create a new one with the right resources and enough Essence Points.”
“Points? As if this were a game?” Myrina snarled.
Nothing I could say was going to matter to the Warden. If I was going to win Myrina over, I was going to have to show her I was capable.
While I chewed on the spider bacon, enjoying the grease, patently ignoring the slight turn of the taste, I accessed the interface in my helmet. I clicked on the CRAFT WEAPONS option and found I could combine Essence Points with something called “Thymos Crystals” to create a ton of advanced gadgetry: melee, ranged weapons, siege engines, and miscellaneous. I focused on Thymos Crystals and a pop-up appeared:
<<< Ω >>>
Thymos Crystals
Thymos Crystals can be found scattered across the island of Lycastia. These are the essential building blocks of the Divine; they can be used to create advanced technology and repair the city and its many structures.
<<< Ω >>>
Hmm, very interesting. I closed out of the screen, then focused on the miscellaneous categories. Inside were the blueprints for a variety of steampunky looking items, like Phoebe’s auto crossbow, as well as a category that simply said OTHER. When I selected OTHER, however, I only got a series of grayed-out screens—though, interestingly, my M1911 was there. Could be I was wrong, but it looked like with the right skills, Phoebe could make bullets and maybe even more guns.
“Can I see?” Phoebe asked, noticing my vacant gaze.
I nodded and shared the display.
Phoebe’s voice filled my head. Other? Hmm, intriguing indeed. Your M1911 is a contraption that uses compression from an explosion triggered by gunpowder to fire pieces of lead. I’ve never seen anything like it before. And in your flying machine—you had other weapons on board. The things I could do with them are mind-boggling. We could jack some evil shit up with those.
Nice slang, I replied with a laugh—I couldn’t believe how this Amazonian engineer was picking up modern English. Truthfully, the slang sounded a little odd coming from her, but she was trying. And yes, we should try and salvage the weapons out of my Harrier, I added. We’ll need them.
“What is so funny?” Myrina asked angrily, slamming the tip of her knife into the table to emphasize her point.
I got a little flustered, forgetting Myrina didn’t share the link. “Oh, Phoebe and I, we were just ...” I scratched at my chin, trying to figure out how to explain the link. “She’s in my head,” I finally finished.
Myrina scoffed, plucking the knife from the table, then using it to absently clean her
nails. “And you say you don’t have the same lusts as Ares. You can do your mental lovemaking on your own time. If it is points you need, we need to collect them, though I have no idea how to begin.”
Phoebe rolled her eyes at the Warden. “It is not lovemaking, Myrina. We were strategizing about the strange machine that brought him to this place. As for the points, as Jacob uses his powers—in battle for example—he will continue to gain experience, allowing him greater and greater access to Ares’ Divine Essence. He will grow in strength, size, and abilities. In time, and with enough experience points, he may rival Ares himself.”
Myrina grunted and nodded. “Very well. Battle, at least, is something I understand. If he can earn these points in combat, then I will see that he gets his fill. We will use these inferior weapons and armor until you can craft more, Phoebe.”
The loud cry of a bird rang out, and seconds later a huge eagle alighted on the terrace overlooking the sandy beach far below. In her great talons, she had the slashed and half-eaten body of a harpy. It was the younger one I’d fought. The majestic raptor, easily the size of a horse, paused, cocking her head as her golden eyes took in the banquet hall. Gore covered her hooked beak as well as the light-blue feathers of her neck and chest. She dropped the mutilated corpse onto the marble floor, and a moment later her body shimmered and shifted, turning to silver liquid that flowed down to become the shapely body of a woman.
Asteria stood on the terrace, her face and naked chest covered in blood. “I brought back some of the harpy in case you were hungry,” she said, voice chipper and bubbly, “but I see you have found nourishment.”
I glanced away, cheeks burning.
Phoebe chuckled. “See, Myrina? He is not like Ares. Does he not avert his gaze?”
Myrina stood up, ignoring Phoebe. “I will gather weapons. Asteria, we are going to venture out to slay the arachnaswine so close to our gates. Jacob needs his little points.”