The God of Battles

by David Menefee

  Rhonda walked over to pour herself some coffee. “The what?”

  “Saturn’s Rings. It’s a goth dance club in the City.”

  Rhonda grinned. “You’re a goth?”

  Cassandra gave Rhonda a steady stare and said nothing, waiting for the other woman’s composure to crack.

  Rhonda’s eyes flicked to the clock then back to Cassandra. “Well, anyway, have fun.”

  Cassandra nodded, hiding her satisfaction, and turned back to the computer to check her e-mail. She had a feeling she might be unemployed after tomorrow. She fought a momentary urge to lurk by the manager’s door and telepathically snoop. Her boss’s head was probably full of skank Cassandra didn’t want to know anyway.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  At Day’s End

  Angela paused to run her fingers along the teak railing above the companionway, where the varnish was lightly chipped. Her grandfather George had often complained that the finish wore off faster there than anywhere else. She made a mental note to repair it sometime soon.

  She removed the hatch boards, set them aside, and descended the steep ladder into the dining salon. Sometimes Cassandra would draw the emerald green curtains shut, leaving the interior in a gray gloom. But the curtains were open now, allowing warm daylight to stream in through the portholes to gleam on brass accents and make the upholstered red cushions glow.

  The day’s concerns receded from her mind as she turned left and walked along the short passageway to the master berth at the stern. Unlike the dining salon, the curtains were still drawn, and the aft cabin was dark and cool. She switched on the light and unbuttoned her work blouse.

  She had finished pulling on a pair of comfortable sweat pants and a T-shirt when she heard the clump of boots above. Angela sighed. Cassandra was scuffing up the deck with her army boots. Again. “Hey, Cassie. Boots?”

  “Sorry.” There was a double thump as Cassandra pulled off her shoes. “I’m starving.”

  “There’s leftovers in the fridge.” Angela finished changing and came out of the master cabin. Seeing Cassandra, she paused for the tiniest moment.

  Even tired, the younger woman was beautiful. Her dark eyes, as well as her classic Roma features, gave her an exotic look that turned heads. Cassandra brushed her short hair away from those eyes as she set her backpack down. Catching Angela’s stare, she smiled and then began rummaging in the small propane refrigerator.

  Angela made her way to the galley in time to see Cassandra pull a Tupperware tub out and hold it up to the light, frowning. “How old is this?”

  She grabbed it out of Cassandra’s hand and popped it open. “If you have to ask, it’s too old.” She dumped it into the compost bucket on the counter and dropped the container in the sink. “So, how was your day?”

  Cassandra emptied a tub of leftover soup into a saucepan and lit the burner. “Okay. The floor manager wants to see me tomorrow.”

  “Is this the manager you called ‘the bitch from hell’?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Uh-oh.” Cassandra had an issue with authority figures. Angela made a mental note to call around to find her another job in case she got fired.

  Cassandra pulled out a couple of soup bowls. “Well, anyway, other than that it was good.”

  Angela found a tub of salad and unloaded it into a couple of bowls. “How about your telepathy?”

  Cassandra shrugged. “No problem. The voices got kinda loud, but I pushed them away. No sweat. In fact, I think I’m ready to start tuning in on people there.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, that’s a lot of random minds to keep track of. You could undo months of work.” Angela cleared her throat. “Nadia thinks you need more training.”

  Cassandra hesitated for a moment then resumed stirring. “I’m fine, and I think I’m ready. So, what’s the plan this evening?”

  Angela squirted dressing on the salad and watched her girlfriend stir the soup. “I want to drop off the vacuum cleaner at Nadia’s on the way to the Rings. I picked it up today at the shop.”

  Cassandra stared at the wall, unspeaking, her face blank, the spoon resting in her hand.

  “Is that okay?” Angela asked.

  Cassandra nodded and resumed stirring. “Sure. No prob.”

  Soon the soup was ready, and they both sat at the dinette table to eat.

  “Eric’ll be at the Rings,” Angela said. “He broke up with Jason, you know. So he’ll be hunting.” She grinned at the thought of her friend prowling amongst the unwitting goths. They’d never know what hit them.

  “I invited a couple of friends at work, too.” Cassandra paused. “I couldn’t find a card for Nadia. Nothing that I thought she’d like, anyway.”

  “It’s okay. I got one. We can both sign it.” Angela poked at a half-submerged piece of carrot. “So, why do you want to read minds at work?”

  “Because it’s my talent, and I want to use it.” Cassandra glanced up at Angela, a challenge in her eyes. “Besides, I’ve been opening up at the Rings. That’s why I think I can handle the hippies at work.”

  “No shit.” A grin spread on Angela’s face. “If you can handle the Rings, a bunch of granola munchers shouldn’t bug you.”

  Cassandra grinned back at her and slurped down the rest of her soup.

  Great-aunt Nadia’s home had become a welcome sight for Angela since the Romani clans had lifted the stigma of marimé from her the previous June. At that time, Angela’s great-aunt had lived in a gaudily decorated trailer in Daly City. However, when the trailer park was sold to a developer who was building condos, Nadia’s entire clan had turned out to help her move into a somewhat weather-beaten Victorian-era rental house in Oakland, not far from Angela’s clinic. Being Nadia, she had immediately set to work redecorating. Or rather, she had set a team of grandsons and great-nephews to work, overseeing them with her critical eye as they hung charms, painted elaborate glyphs on the chipped frames of the doors and windows, and—as she put it—“made a home” out of her house.

  Since June, when the Soul Thief had killed George, Angela had grown closer to her older relatives. She made an effort to visit Nadia and Nadia’s brother Michael, who shared the house, every week.

  Nadia greeted them at the door. “My dear Angela. And Cassandra. Please come in.”

  They entered the warm house, and Angela frowned at the smudged carpeting and world-class dust bunnies peeking out from underneath the furniture. While the vacuum cleaner had been out for repairs, Nadia had created a real mess to test it with.

  Nadia turned to hobble back to her chair, leaning on her cane and puffing with exertion. Her hip problem had worsened in the last six months, but Nadia steadfastly refused to seek medical treatment.

  “Nana, let me help,” Angela said, offering her arm.

  Nadia waved her off. “No, thank you, dear. Put on a kettle, will you?” She sat down with a grunt in her customary overstuffed chair.

  Angela sighed in resignation and went into the kitchen. As she began filling the kettle, she noticed that Cassandra was still standing awkwardly near the door. Angela caught her eye and lifted an eyebrow. Cassandra shrugged and walked over to the couch.

  “Cassandra?” Nadia said. “There are cookies in the cupboard. Would you mind getting those?”

  “Sure.” Cassandra came into the kitchen and began hunting through the cabinets.

  Angela pointed to the one to the right of the sink. “In there, I think.”

  Cassandra opened it, retrieved a large glass jar with a flip-top lid, and returned to the living room to place it on the coffee table. She took out two cookies and brought them to Nadia.

  “Thank you.” Nadia sounded pleased. “That’s just what I wanted.”

  “You’re welcome,” Cassandra mumbled. She went back to perch on the edge of the couch.

  Angela returned to the living room couch to wait for the kettle to boil. “Nana, the vacuum’s out in the car. Where do you want me to put it?”

  “Don’t bother yourself.” Nadia lo
oked toward the corridor and raised her voice. “Michael! Are you awake?”

  A muffled response came from her brother’s bedroom, and the door opened. Michael poked his head out, rubbing his eyes groggily. “I am now, Nadia.”

  He came into the living room dressed in shorts and an undershirt that was stretched over his hairy belly. The beard he had grown in memory of his brother George looked like a bird’s nest. His face lit up when he saw Angela. “Angel! I didn’t hear you come in.”

  She rose to give him a hug, which he returned with a fraction of his old strength. She wrinkled her nose at the odor of stale sweat, beer, and for some reason, green beans. He was a heavy drinker, and some people with liver problems developed odd body odors, so she added this to her catalog of worries about her great-uncle.

  Michael patted her shoulder and shuffled to the other overstuffed chair, groaning as he settled into it. “Hello, Cassandra,” he said with a broad grin. “How are you today? I don’t see you often enough.”

  Cassandra returned his smile with warmth. “Great. I got that job at NutriMart.”

  “Good, good! I thought you would. Angel, can you get me one of those cookies? My back is out again.”

  Angela, who had just sat down, hopped back up and fetched one for him. The kettle started to scream, so she returned to the kitchen to busy herself making tea.

  “Michael,” Nadia said. “I need you to go get the vacuum cleaner out of Angela’s trunk.”

  He looked pleadingly at Nadia for a moment. He started to rise from the chair.

  Angela shook her head. “Uncle, no. Don’t try to carry that with your back out.” She glanced at Nadia. “I’ll go get it.”

  “Very well, but you shouldn’t have to. After tea—not right now.”

  Angela brought in a tray with teacups and the pot and set it on the table.

  Nadia looked for a moment at Cassandra then back at Angela. “You are both coming to my birthday party tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “Of course.” Angela poured tea for Nadia and Michael. “Cassie’s taking the evening off at work. Right?”

  Cassandra nodded. “Sure am.”

  Silence fell for a moment as everyone picked up their cups and blew across the top of the hot tea. Nadia looked at Angela again with a slight frown. “Angela. Have you thought about my offer? To teach you?”

  Angela paused before answering the dreaded question. Placing herself under Nadia’s tutelage would create an unwanted obligation to the Roma path of the chovihani. She decided to dissemble. “Nana, I… I’ve been so busy lately with all the paperwork involved in setting up the new clinic.”

  Nadia’s eyes glittered. “There’s a lot you need to learn.”

  Angela shook her head. “I know, I know. It’s just… I want to be in the right frame of mind.”

  Nadia set her cup down. “Your power won’t wait. Angela, you may not want to admit it, but your decision affects us all.” She glanced at Cassandra. “You know what happens when you choose to ignore your strength.”

  Cassandra flushed. “She’s not kidding about being busy. Angela’s working eighteen-hour days. I had to yell at her about it.” She glanced at her girlfriend, who smiled with understanding. “I told her to take tonight and tomorrow night off so she could have some fun.”

  Nadia’s frown deepened as she stared at Cassandra for a moment in silence. Then she turned her attention back to Angela. “Just don’t wait too long, dear. Please give me an answer soon.”

  “Of course. When the dust settles at the clinic, I’m going to give serious thought to that commitment.”

  Nadia nodded. “Good. Michael, go get that vacuum cleaner, will you?”

  Michael groaned.

  Angela got to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  The air had been heavy with the tension between Nadia and Cassandra, so Angela was relieved to get out of there for a moment. However, she was afraid that Cassandra would be uncomfortable spending time alone with Nadia, so she hurried to unlock the trunk of the car and retrieve the vacuum cleaner.

  After lugging it back up the porch steps, Angela barged through the door. “Where can I put it?”

  Nadia waved toward the corridor. “Take it into the back, will you?”

  “Sure thing.” Angela carried it into Nadia’s bedroom and returned to the living room. “Nana, we’ve got to go. We’re meeting some friends for dinner before heading over to the Rings.”

  Nadia’s mouth pursed. “I understand. I want to see you at the dance tomorrow. There are some nice young men I want you to meet.”

  Cassandra’s face went still, and she stared at Nadia, her expression cool and distant.

  There she goes again, Angela thought. Nadia knew she and Cassandra were in a committed relationship, yet she refused to accept that it was more than a phase Angela was going through. She put her hands on her hips. “Nana, we’ve been through this…”

  Nadia waved her hand. “Never mind. Come to the party for me, then. I love you, Angel.”

  Angela sighed and went over to peck Nadia on the cheek. “Me too.”

  Cassandra was already on her feet. She stared for a moment at Nadia then turned and went to the door.

  “Uncle Michael, I’ll talk to you later.” Angela went over to Michael’s chair and bent to hug him.

  Her great-uncle looked sadly at Cassandra. “Will you give me a hug too?”

  Cassandra quick-stepped over to where Michael was sitting and one-armed his shoulders. She glanced at Nadia again, then she and Angela hurried back to the car and left.

  Angela drove pensively back across the Bay Bridge. Michael this, Michael that. Nadia had always been in charge of the family. She had even bossed her older brother, Angela’s grandfather George—something that no one else had dared to do. Angela remembered the heated family discussions in Nadia’s warm kitchen. All the shouting had made Angela hide under her bed when she was little, and she had been intimidated by her great-aunt’s flashing eyes and scowl.

  As Angela grew older, she came to realize that Nadia loved the entire family and all the Roma. Even when her great-aunt had pushed the clans to cast her out, declaring her marimé, Angela had understood that she had done so for the sake of the community. When, last year, Nadia had been instrumental in lifting Angela’s banishment, it had been for similar reasons. Now that she and her great-aunt were getting along, it was important to her that Cassandra felt welcome, as well.

  “Hey, Cassie,” Angela said, glancing at Cassandra. “Love you.”

  Cassandra stopped staring out the window long enough to smile at Angela. “Love you, too.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  To Dance at Death’s Door

  An Angel spreads her hallowed wings

  To seek the hellish nightmare thing

  That holds him fast to nightmare task,

  That binds his soul to battle’s king.

  “Stop your vehicle.” The loudspeaker-amplified voice cut the night air. Simon felt an adrenaline surge. He glanced at his buddy and nodded, raising his weapon. The oncoming headlights did not slow.

  “I repeat, stop your vehicle, or we’ll open fire.”

  The car accelerated with a roar, and Simon felt himself tense as he lifted the rifle to take aim. Suddenly his head swam with vertigo, and he blinked, shaking his head as he awoke within the dream. Simon pulled his finger away from the trigger guard and lowered the weapon. Once again, he walked away from the checkpoint, into darkness.

  Simon froze, hearing a faint thumping sound. He whirled, becoming more awake. He remembered the soldiers that, in previous dreams, would come to get him. But no one approached. The thumping grew louder, more insistent, matching his heartbeat. Absurdly, he was reminded of the club music he had danced to before he lost the use of his legs.

  Abruptly, the walls of darkness around him collapsed as if he were on a flimsy movie set. He stood in a large stone chamber, his breath rasping as it echoed. Green and dark-red light streamed down from stained-glass windows far abov
e, illuminating a tall woman who stood before him. She wore elaborate brocade robes in an archaic, formal style and a tall, conical headdress. He felt the wind go out of him, and his legs trembled. Though he had never seen her before, it was as if she had been in his dream all along, waiting for him.

  “My… my Lady.” The words spilled out from a place deep within him and echoed in the room, and Simon fell to his knees. She extended a long, six-fingered hand for him to kiss. He reached out to take it, but it had become an insubstantial mirage. Looking up, he saw that she was motionless, frozen in the act of reaching toward him. Simon looked around at the room in the dim light. He stood, feeling his heart trip-hammering in his chest.

  With an explosive roar, the wall to his left collapsed, and a group of marines broke into the place. They stormed through the billowing dust, flashlights glaring from their rifle mounts.

  He backed away. “Stay away from me. Stay away!” He should have kept the rifle, though part of him knew it would have made no difference in what was to come. The soldiers cut off any hope of escape as they neared him. Looming behind them was General Iron Star, his glowing eyes pinning Simon down like a bug.

  “Lady! Help me!” Simon shouted. The room dissolved, leaving Simon surrounded by his abductors. He was grappled from behind, his arms held to his sides. “Lady!”

  “That is not permitted.” Iron Star spoke in a grating, repulsive voice. He gestured at the checkpoint, and the soldiers hauled Simon to where his rifle lay on the ground. The car was about ten yards from the checkpoint, clouds of dust hanging suspended in the air behind it.

  “No. No! Lady!” Simon screamed, struggling fiercely. “Help!”

  Simon’s strength ran out of his limbs when he saw the face. It was that of a young woman, seemingly suspended in midair beyond the checkpoint. Though far away, her features were vivid. Short black hair, high cheekbones, exotic dark eyes. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And she saw him! Her eyes widened with shock, and her lips moved as if she were speaking, though he could hear nothing.