The God of Battles

by David Menefee

  Cassandra jerked her head at the street. “C’mon. That asshole’s not gonna let us in.”

  Angela hesitated, but she heard disgust in Cassandra’s voice and trusted her insight. She threw up a hand. “Dammit!”

  On the way back to the boat, Angela’s hands-free unit chirped with Eric’s ringtone. She pressed the talk button. “Hey, Eric.”

  “Hi, Angel. Can you come over to the clinic?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it over the phone.” Angela thought he sounded unusually tense. “There’s something urgent I need to go over with you in person.”

  “Why can’t we do it over the phone?”

  “I can’t tell you why over the phone. That’s why I want to meet you here.”

  Now Angela and Cassandra stared at each other for a moment, eyebrows simultaneously raised.

  “Hey, man. Don’t panic, I’ll come over. Just give me a little time. I’m having a rough day.” Angela shrugged.

  “I’m really sorry. It’s kind of stressful all around, huh?”

  Angela stretched her arms against the steering wheel, working out a knot in her shoulder that was starting to accumulate tension. “Yeah. Okay. Cassie, do you want to go back to the boat or come with me?”

  “Take me with you.” Cassandra spoke in a flat voice, but her eyes were alight with curiosity.

  “Okay. Eric, Cassie and I are coming right over.”

  “See you in a few.” He hung up without his customary cheery goodbye.

  Angela pushed the off button thoughtfully. “He seems really wound up.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  War in Heaven: Individuation

  Within the Unclaimed Overworld

  Diamond Angel explored the vast gray realm of the Overworld beyond the territories claimed by Egregores. Constrained by the isolation trap, she had been unable to venture anywhere near Bald Eagle. Exploration of the Egregores’ realm was her sole remaining option if she wanted to establish herself here.

  She followed her instincts. She had no guide, no path through the endlessly complex layers of the Otherworld. Each step she took opened an entire vista of higher geometries, unfolding like an enormous fractal chrysanthemum.

  Turning another five-dimensional corner, her world exploded with light. She halted, blinded in all her senses for a moment, and raised her hands defensively.

  “Don’t be afraid.” The voice was strong, calm, reassuring.

  “Who or what are you?” She concentrated her forces in her belly, preparing to unleash a killing bolt of energy.

  “I am a friend.” In that same calm voice, the visitor explained that he had come from a secret ally. He was an angel, he said, and he brought knowledge.

  Diamond Angel relaxed, composed herself, and listened. The angel explained that the Root Hexagon was a fragment intruding from an even more rarefied region, one occupied by gods to whom the Egregores were but children at play. The artifact’s power, though corrupted, was still tremendously helpful to Bald Eagle in that it was able to capture and replay every kind of imaginable energetic pattern.

  “Follow me,” the angel said.

  Setting aside her reservations, Diamond Angel accompanied her benefactor along one of the turnings she had abandoned in her exploration. She felt a sudden constriction and then burst through.

  She stood on an endless blank white plain. Arrayed around her were small statues taking the form of various animals and geometric solids. Diamond Angel looked for the angel, but it had vanished. Extending her senses, she probed the new realm and discovered that it was a secret place that gave her a unique perspective on the Egregores. Each of the statues was connected to an Egregore. Through them, she could gain the insights she needed.

  Nearby was a statue of a bald eagle perched on a pyramid. It sparkled with activity, and as she focused her attention, Diamond Angel felt an itching, prickling sensation in her core. Disregarding her discomfort, she gathered her strength. This was her best chance to safely study her foe.

  Diamond Angel pushed a hand into her solar plexus and pulled out a large dollop of glowing, mucus-like substance. She dashed eight gobbets of it on the ground around her. Each rose up into the form of a larva, a vaguely humanoid, mindless creature that served as an extension of her will. She lacked the resources, as yet, to create an independent, conscious angel that had the power to retrieve knowledge from an Egregore. The eight larvae would have to serve, infused as they were with the vitality of her alien viewpoint.

  With a sweep of her hand at Bald Eagle, she sent the larvae flying like arrows. As they neared the statue, they shrank then vanished. Satisfied, she waited for the results of her probe.

  An indeterminate amount of time later, two of the creatures returned. She opened her arms, and they flashed as they merged with her solar plexus. None were able to penetrate the realm of Bald Eagle. Her resources were limited, and without aid, Diamond Angel was unable to proceed with her original plan.

  Sparks flashed in the periphery of her vision to the right, and she peered in that direction, shading her eyes against the uniform whiteness. The sparks resolved into the forms of two angels, appearing in the somber suit-and-tie garb that signified their membership in the Egregore Gray Suit. They held thin strands of reddish light, which reached toward her and vanished before they entered her aura. She tensed, worried that the two angels had power over her. Raising both hands, she flung bolts of force at them. But it was merely a vision, and the angels weren’t truly present. The images faded.

  Another movement nearby caught her attention. Two of the statues, one depicting an exotic woman and the other a handsome man, had emitted threads of blue light in her direction. She perceived that those two were offering alliance in the realm of the Egregores. One named itself Serpent Lion and the other Dark Eyes. An angry veil shimmered between them. They were enemies to each other, which would complicate any alliance they offered.

  Allies were fickle amongst the Egregores, but she could have used any assistance offered to her, so Diamond Angel opened herself to them. However, when their helpful threads neared her form, they were blocked by red flashes of light, similar to the veil. Gray Suit again. Although Diamond Angel was not by nature a vengeful creature, she contemplated revenge for her drab opponent and its ally Bald Eagle.

  Composing herself once again, Diamond Angel prepared to establish her own realm.

  War on Earth

  The navy vet sat up, sweat pouring off of him. His nightmare clung to him like a shroud, and for a moment he forgot that he was home. “Whaddya want…”

  —

  “Go back home, I ain’t got none.” The homeless woman, an army vet, swatted at the translucent things hovering by her face. “No!”

  —

  “Get away from me!” he shrieked. The orderly held him down with difficulty. “Dammit!”

  —

  “We’re almost outta Abilify. Crap. Gettin’ distracted again. But…”

  —

  “I served my country. Shit happens. Service…”

  —

  “Service demands a willing…”

  —

  “… sacrifice.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  A Reunion

  (An ally meanwhile mends the wall

  That serves to keep his woodland hall

  Safe from all who would destroy

  His mystic race beyond recall).

  Nadia brooded. The book she had been reading had done nothing to ease her tension. Now it lay facedown on her side table. Her empty teacup next to it mocked her indecision. Michael was still angry with her; she could feel his anger like an open, pulsing wound. The knowledge that some of that wrath was fueled by a virulent impulse sent by the enemy did little to help her mood. The unknown foe, human or not, appeared to be a smooth-talking bastard, influencing minds with words and images.

  She needed to contact Michael and reconcile with him. Their feud was undermining her position as an h
onored puro dai more effectively than if she had simply rolled over. Of course, she appreciated everything he had done for her over the years. She wished that he had said something rather than stewing in his own juices and then exploding at her as he did. Maybe it was worse because George had died.

  Nadia shuddered. Angela had defied her by seeking her grandfather out, but she could do nothing to restrain her great-niece until she began proper training.

  But never mind that right now. Time to swallow her ego and try to reach Michael. She picked up her phone and dialed his cell number. The phone rang five times and went to voicemail.

  “This is Michael. Leave a message, and I’ll forget to call you back. Okay?” It beeped.

  “Michael, this is your sister. I am sorry for saying what I did.” Nadia sighed. “It was wrong of me to do so. Please come back home. We all need you. I need you.”

  She paused, not certain if she needed to say something else, then hung up. She stared at the wall, wracked with memories.

  Nadia stood outside her old trailer home beneath a gigantic full moon, watching as someone approached. At first she could not make out who it was or even if it was a person; its size grew and shrank in the silvery illumination that filled the yard and suffused the air. As the figure neared, however, she saw that it was a beautiful man. He had dark eyes, black hair, and aquiline features. Evidently Roma, he lifted an empty hand in greeting.

  In her dream, Nadia stood stock-still as he stopped about three feet from where she stood. His presence was a radiant warmth. This was no mere dream figure but a spirit of great power. For a moment he was silent. He would speak in his own time if speaking was in his nature.

  “My Nadia. Seer, sorceress, and one of my greatest servants.”

  She lifted her chin. “My service is to my people, spirit.”

  His smile was a thing of beauty. “Your people are within me, as I am in all of them, so when you serve them, you serve me.”

  The Ancestor! She had not recognized him. The shock almost awakened her from the dream. She mastered her emotions and settled back into the curious half-awake state of lucidity. “As you say. You are welcome, of course.”

  The Ancestor quietly searched her face. Then he turned and pointed behind him. “I bring you a vision as a reward for your fine work on my behalf.”

  She looked toward where he pointed to, and gasped. A great storm was boiling up from behind the horizon, red lightning flickering within the clouds. A gigantic, half-formed face appeared. Its knitted brows and fierce, white-hot glowing eyes seemed to strip Nadia’s soul bare.

  Walking swiftly from that direction, Cassandra’s slight figure drew near. The girl appeared to be unaware of the cloud behind her as well as of Nadia and the spirit. Cassandra strode toward Nadia, her hands jammed into her pockets. A flickering cloud of darkness shrouded her body, resembling the invisibility spell that George and Angela both practiced. It did nothing to deter the intent stare of the monstrous entity in the cloud.

  Suddenly, a bolt of red lightning struck the girl. She cried out and tumbled to the ground. Nadia tried to rush forward to her aid. The Ancestor blocked her with an outstretched arm.

  “Don’t go near her,” he said. “I can’t protect you from him if you do.”

  “But she’s hurt!”

  “This will come to pass, and no one can stop it.” The spirit’s face was calm, placid. “But you can warn Angela for me so he cannot hurt her, too. Will you do that?”

  Nadia stared at the prone form of Cassandra then looked back at the Ancestor, torn between the instinctive urge to help and the command of the spirit. “Will Cassandra survive?”

  He nodded. “She’s very strong. Yes. But I cannot say the same for Angela. She has made herself vulnerable to him.” He nodded in the direction of the storm. “I can’t reach her anymore. Angela is her own person, beyond all of us. But the enemy has her in his sights. Warn her, and help her when you can. Beware the gadje in your world, for they are the instruments of his will. Their words are his weapons, and they often act on his behalf.”

  He stepped forward a pace and reached out to touch Nadia’s arm. “Now wake up. Wake up.”

  His voice echoed, distorting, and Nadia felt the world quake. She struggled toward wakefulness. A hand was on her shoulder, the voice murmuring in her ear. Nadia opened her eyes. Michael stood over her, gently shaking her.

  “Nadia, wake up. I’m here. You were having a nightmare.”

  She stared up at him, then she felt the remnants of her hard-held anger at him disappear. “Oh, Michael.”

  He bent and hugged his sister, and her tears wet his shoulder.

  Nadia and Michael were back in their accustomed chairs, and all was right with the world. The comforting tea had been made and was being drunk, and their discussion was amiable.

  “So, you say there is a spirit that made us quarrel?” Michael asked again.

  Nadia hid her sigh, resigned to explaining for the third time. Michael was having difficulty grasping these concepts because he lacked a chovihano’s subtle skills and understanding. “Yes. This Iron Man, Tin Star, whatever his name is. He is a no-good, meddling mulo or something. Anyway, he is speaking through the mouths of the gadje and working through his tools, the police. This much the Ancestor told me.”

  Michael scratched his chin. He had decided to shave his beard. It had never looked good on him. “What can we do? If the Ancestor says to stay away, should you try to fight this mulo?”

  “I cannot fight him. But we can all help Angela.”

  Michael lifted an eyebrow.

  “And Cassandra too,” she continued. “She is one of our own, and she has a great power as well.” Even though it’s not proper for her to be with Angela, she thought. But she prudently decided not to go on another rant.

  Michael thumped his chair, making her jump. “Then let us do this thing. My brother would say so.”

  Nadia nodded. “I will call a gathering of the chovihanis.”

  Michael’s jaw dropped. “Can you do that?”

  “When times are this dark, yes. But we have to do this quickly. Angela almost died last year because we didn’t help her. Not again.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  War in Heaven: Reconstruction

  Realm of Dark Eyes

  “Reinforce the fortifications here and here.” Dark Eyes’s finger stabbed at the air, indicating the floating image mapping his realm’s perimeter. “Meanwhile, I will strengthen the Guardian.”

  His attendant angels scattered to busy themselves with the work of reconstruction. Satisfied, he spread his arms, opened a portal, and stepped through.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The Meme

  Though empty are her hands that day

  For Eagle leads her spies astray;

  Bestirs she then to make anew

  An angel, thus his lies betray.

  When they arrived at the clinic, Angela parked hastily, and they approached the front entrance. Cassandra had assumed the hard, streetwise face from her pre-Angela days and glanced around warily. Angela stared at the boarded-up windows and sighed. She had known that opening a clinic in this location might be risky, but that didn’t make the reality of grenades and broken glass any easier to swallow. She unlocked the door, and they entered the admitting room.

  Eric was pacing but halted mid-step after she came in. His normally insouciant expression was gone, replaced by that of a man at bay, something that she had never seen in all the years she had known him. “Thank God you’re here. It’s DMH, Angela.”

  He led them to her office, shut the door and, once inside, resumed pacing, his steps rapid and small, his shoulders hunched, saying nothing.

  “What about them?” Angela asked.

  He stopped and flung a hand up in the air. “They’re not only yanking the funding. They’re demanding we return the benefits payouts for the patients we’ve treated.”

  Cassandra gasped. “They can’t do that!”

  “Yes, they can.
” Angela saw a crumpled piece of paper in Eric’s other hand. He waved it at Cassandra. “They cited irregularities in the filings and said we may be charged with fraud.”

  Angela felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Reality had just taken a surreal turn. She drifted over to a chair and absentmindedly took a seat. “Oh, shit.”

  Eric resumed pacing. “One of my friends at the hospital warned me to watch out for this kind of crap from Sac town. Said that we’d get caught in the middle of a bureaucratic feud, but I didn’t want to believe him.”

  Abruptly, Angela’s world snapped into focus. This was something she understood. Heat rose to her cheeks as she stared at Eric. “Are there any additional details on that memo?”

  Eric shook his head. “No, it’s just a single-page notice. When I called, my liaison wouldn’t explain further. Said we’d be getting the rest of the paperwork in the mail. But he said we might want to consider filing Chapter 13 if we don’t want to lose the clinic altogether.”

  Angela smacked the desk. “Like hell! We followed their goddamn rules to the letter. Our lawyers made sure of that. Let me talk to those bastards.”

  Eric put a hand to his face then rubbed downward before releasing his chin. “Angela, they could take everything, and we’d both be finished as psychiatrists if this got out.” He stared at her, lines creasing his face. “God, all the money you’ve invested, the proceeds from the condo. Out the window.”

  “That won’t happen, Eric.”

  He looked at her. “Dammit. How do you know that? This is the government we’re talking about.”

  Angela stood, resolve flooding her. “No, this is a bunch of bureaucrats. I know how to deal with those.”

  “What the hell do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”