The God of Battles

by David Menefee

  “Iron Star infected me. Somehow he poisoned me with his warlike nature.” Angela’s sadness gave way to anger. How dare that monstrosity inflict her with a curse? She was ready to go back to that Overworld place and demand an accounting from whoever was in charge.

  Cassandra sighed. “So, that’s what she meant.”

  Angela looked at her, puzzled. “Who?”

  “Nadia. She contacted me. I was out of my body again, and she told me something terrible had happened to you. Said to keep an eye on you.”

  Angela took a deep, steadying breath. “She’s right. Something terrible has happened. It’s still happening. On my way over here, I saw three car accidents, and the cops seemed to be everywhere. There were gunshots in broad daylight by Lake Merritt. Somehow this infection, this stain of war, is using my power to spread to people around me. Maybe it’s spreading in the Otherworld—” She stopped as a horrifying realization struck home. Looking down, she could see every detail of the floor in dreamlike clarity. She heard her own voice as if from a distance. “Like the Soul Thief.”

  She contemplated her hands, which were surprisingly steady. “I have to go back to that place. That’s where I’ll find answers. And a cure, before it’s too late.” She glanced at her girlfriend’s pale face under the fluorescent lighting. “I need your help, Cassie. And Simon’s. I just hope he’s not affected by this, too.”

  Angela raised her hand to knock on Simon’s door then hesitated. If her day so far were any indication, he could have a gun in his hand right now, ready to fight. If she stepped through that door, he might shoot her. And Cassandra. She turned to leave.

  Cassandra rolled up to the door in her wheelchair, reached out awkwardly with her good hand, and rapped sharply. She glanced up at Angela, and her mouth twitched in a momentary smile.

  “Who is it?” Simon’s voice was stronger than it had been the last time Angela had tried to visit.

  “It’s us,” Cassandra replied. “Angela and me.”

  Angela heard a muffled exclamation from the other side, followed by a loud thump, and the door swung open as Simon rolled back. He goggled at Cassandra. “Whoa.”

  Cassandra grinned. “Yep. Looks like we’re both rolling today.”

  He laughed, moving out of the way as she went in. Angela paused in the doorway, irresolute. His expression froze as he eyed her, and he frowned. “Are you going to come in?”

  Angela nodded, her heartbeat throbbing in her ears. “Sure. Sorry.”

  After she squeezed past, Simon shut the door, and he followed her into the living room. “I’d get you something to drink, but all I’ve got is beer.”

  “I’ll pass,” Angela said.

  “Beer’s not good enough for you?” His eyes narrowed.

  “Simon!” Cassandra snapped. “She needs your help. What’s up with you?”

  He stared at Cassandra for a moment then shook his head. “I dunno. It’s like I just want to punch someone right now. Really weird. I was okay till you guys showed up.” He regarded Angela again, and his forehead creased. “What’s wrong? Does this have to do with Iron Star?”

  “Got it in one.” Angela licked a finger and marked an invisible scoreboard. “I fought him, and I think I defeated him. But something happened to me.”

  Simon nodded. “That’s why I don’t see him. But the soldiers still push me back into the dream. Nothing’s changed.”

  “Crap.” Angela threw up her hands. “It’s all crap! Obviously, something or someone else is fucking with us all. And now that big red bastard’s put something in my head.” She jammed her hands in her pockets. “I need your help to get rid of it. All the answers are in that weird Overworld, not here. Can you help me go over one more time?”

  “Why should I? You couldn’t help me with my nightmares.” Simon’s voice rose as he glared at Angela. “What good are you now, anyway?”

  She clenched her fists then relaxed. The stain of war was talking, not Simon, she reminded herself firmly. “Simon, I don’t want to argue with you. Look, if you want to be rid of that nightmare, you need to help me help you.”

  Simon’s face contorted briefly. “Before I met you, I just had nightmares when I was asleep. Now I see them when I close my eyes.” He turned away and rolled toward the window. He stopped, and his hands clenched and unclenched on the arms of his chair. Angela resisted the urge to storm out of his apartment, throwing herself into a chair instead.

  Cassandra moved next to him and stared out the window. “So, you know this thing’s killing you, right?” She spoke in low tones. “You were already in bad shape when I met you.”

  Simon grunted an affirmative.

  “She’s the only one who’s been able to hurt the bad guys where they live. Now, I don’t know how really real those guys are, but if you want to have a life of your own, you’ve got to give her one more chance.”

  Simon stared out at the storm-clouded sky a moment longer, then he turned to study Cassandra’s face. “I’ll try ‘cause you’re asking me to.” He clenched his fists. “Dammit! I’m sick of beating my head against the wall.” He took a breath and let it out heavily. “Okay. What do we do?”

  “Angela needs to get to this other place. First, Simon, you go to sleep. You’ve got zombie pills, right?” He nodded, and she continued, “Cool. I’ll keep an eye on you, and when you start dreaming, I’ll join you. I’ll link Angela in, and then we go wherever we need to go.” Her voice faltered.

  Fear for Cassandra penetrated Angela’s funk, and she spoke up. “Cassie, I don’t want you to come with me to that place again. You almost got killed the last time. Just mentally link with him and send me there.”

  Cassandra stared at Angela, biting her lip. “How’re we gonna keep track of you?”

  “I don’t think you can. Just… keep an eye out for me. I need to scrape this whatever-it-is off of me.”

  “Why do you keep trying to do everything by yourself?”

  Angela felt heat rise, but she checked her angry retort. “Lover, right now it’s all I can do to keep my head screwed on straight. Please, can you support me in this?”

  Cassandra hesitated, then she nodded.

  “Thank you. Simon, how’re you feeling?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t care anymore.” He glanced at Angela. “While you’re there getting your head screwed back on, if you see any way to get me out of this, I’d appreciate it.”

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

  Simon put down his weapon and waited for the soldiers to react. One turned to face him and reached down for his rifle.

  Angela grabbed the soldier from behind, yanking his arm to force him off balance. He staggered but regained his footing. He turned on her, a snarl on his face. Then his expression went blank, and he stepped backward away from her, crossing his arms. Another soldier rushed to grapple with Simon. Angela stepped forward, lifted her foot, and delivered a snap kick to his lower back. He fell to his knees, rolled away from her, and rose to his feet. He backed away as well, and Angela was nonplussed.

  “Go! Go!” Simon shouted, his face anguished.

  Angela nodded. Whatever was happening to the soldiers was unimportant. She reached out to one of the passive soldiers who was staring blankly through her. Touching his forehead, she felt the universe whirl around her as the scene changed.

  Root Hexagon, Bald Eagle

  Angela stood, once again, in the crater where she had arrived to fight Iron Star. She sneezed twice at the acrid stench from the bubbling pool. The sky echoed with thunder, and she glanced up at the seething red clouds, hunting for its source. Then she lowered her gaze to the crater rim. The strobing red glare of warfare flared above it.

  “Do these people ever stop fighting?” she muttered. Then she raised her voice. “Okay, now I’m here. What next?”

  She saw that strange, glimmering glow everywhere she looked. She lifted a hand and stared, but this time, her hand was unadorned by light.

  A soundless, brillian
t flash like lightning blinded her. When her vision cleared again, she was surrounded by winged beings. She spun, looking for a way out of the trap, but they had ringed the crater.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  War in Heaven: Spies go Forth

  Realm of Dark Eyes

  The realm was heavily forested with fantastical, unearthly trees, their limbs twisted into dark ideograms. Among the shadows of those trees, animal-headed humans carried out the whims of the stylish angels that in turn served the master of mystery, Dark Eyes.

  Taking the form of a handsome man—clean shaven, black haired, and olive skinned—he strode out of a copse. He had chosen to appear in a beetle-green vest, white shirt with puffed sleeves and red trim, and burgundy trousers. Of course, he wore no shoes. Dark Eyes placed his fists on his hips and looked around him for a moment. Then he raised his fingers to his lips and issued a piercing whistle.

  A half-dozen angels, each displaying the characteristic features of Dark Eyes, came running up to stand before him.

  Dark Eyes spoke, gesturing grandly. “Men, our one-time friend and ally Diamond Angel is now at war with us. She is deeply divided within because of a great spell that our servants cast. However, I have learned from my greatest servant that the spell wasn’t enough to free Angela. Diamond Angel will swallow her whole unless we help.”

  There was anxious muttering amongst the angels.

  He continued. “Attacks on the Root Hexagon have revealed that, though Diamond Angel is complicit in the crimes committed by Bald Eagle, the child Angela is seeking to undermine her use of the Root Hexagon. That underworld woman and her friend are actually loosening the keystone of the Hexagon, embodied in the man Simon—”

  The muttering grew angry at the mention of that name.

  “—using the new weapon we stole from Diamond Angel. But they are in great danger every moment that they work against Diamond Angel.”

  Dark Eyes strode up and down their line dramatically, waving his hand with grand flourishes. “We must help them! I send you forth to carry inspiration to our unexpected benefactors. Go in haste, go in stealth, and return victorious. If you learn important information, send one of your number back to me immediately.”

  He turned to face them, planting his fists on his hips again. Seeing them muttering and jostling each other for a better view of their lord, he laughed and waved his hand. “Go!”

  They thrust their fists high and left as quickly as they had arrived.

  War on Earth

  “I felt so useless. But my husband said that just knowing I was here…”

  —

  “She’s out there, saving the world, and I support her.”

  —

  “We’ll hold the center. I can help you while he’s gone.”

  —

  “Pass it on to them. They’ll get my support.”

  —

  “I’ll support them regardless. My son’s not alone…”

  —

  “My granddaughter’s not alone…”

  —

  “Angela’s not alone.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  The Wise Old Woman

  Another force is mobilized

  To furnish aid to mortal wise

  That she might find the secret cause

  Which tainted her with warlike guise.

  Cassandra sat in her wheelchair next to the couch where Angela’s prone form lay quietly. Concentrating, she reached out with her mind and felt nothing. Simon coughed, and she looked up.

  “I can’t feel her mind. It’s almost like she’s dead.” She held a dampened finger up to the unconscious woman’s nose. She couldn’t detect any breathing, and the unusual pallor of Angela’s features was starting to frighten Cassandra.

  Simon wheeled close and reached out to feel Angela’s neck.

  Cassandra grabbed his hand. “Don’t touch her!”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, pulling his hand back. “Look closer. There’s a pulse in her throat.”

  Cassandra peered. Sure enough, she saw a tiny movement. She felt a sudden electric tension in her body. “I wish I could help her.”

  “Yeah. Me too. I’m still kinda confused about who or what she’s fighting.”

  Cassandra shifted her weight in her chair. She had tried to explain this several times before. “So, it’s like this. You know about memes?”

  “Yeah, Angela filled me in on that. But it still doesn’t make sense. How can an idea be a soldier?”

  Cassandra thought about the question. It still confused her, too, but whatever they were, Angela took them seriously enough to risk her sanity and her life to fight them. “I’m not really sure about that either. But she’s fighting these things, and she told me they can be beaten.”

  “So, if someone posts an ad online, they’ve created a meme? And it’s a soldier?”

  “God, I don’t know.” She rubbed her face tiredly. “Yeah. Maybe. But I think these things are stronger if there’s a lot at stake—like, if there’s something going on in the real world, too.”

  “Then why can’t you just watch the news or something, and see if Angela’s winning?”

  Cassandra snapped her fingers. “Right! Great idea!” She looked around. Simon didn’t have a television. “Where’s your computer?”

  “It’s at the shop. I, uh, broke it.”

  She looked at him askance then dug out her phone. “I’d use this, but the tiny screen sucks. I know who’ll help, though.”

  “Who?”

  “Eric.” She pulled up his name and hit Dial. The phone rang once.

  “Cassie?” Eric’s voice sounded thin, even accounting for the mobile connection.

  “Yeah. Eric, Angela told me you guys had a fight.”

  “She had a fight. I didn’t. I don’t know what the hell happened.” He paused, and his next words were hard to discern. “I just wish I could talk to her.”

  Was Eric crying? It must have been a huge argument. She would ask him about it some other time. “Listen. She’s… indisposed at the moment. But I need you to do me a huge favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “Can you turn on the news, check the search engines, maybe fire up a Facebook session, and watch your Twitter feeds?”

  “What?” His voice cracked.

  “We need to know what’s happening. Everywhere.” She stood up again and started pacing. “I can’t explain right now, but just call me if you see anything weird. Unusual.”

  “Baby, it’s all weird right now.”

  “Weirder, then. Especially if it relates to the war, or something local. Just do it. Please?” She glanced at Simon, who nodded encouragement.

  “Sure. I don’t understand how this is going to help.”

  “Trust me, it will.” She hung up and set her phone down on the table. Cassandra sat quietly for a moment, staring into nowhere. “I hate waiting.” She opened up a web browser on the phone and started looking for clues herself.

  Cassandra brooded and sat, glancing anxiously at Angela’s prone and all-too-still figure on the couch. She was seriously jonesing for a smoke, but Simon hated people smoking in his apartment, and she wasn’t going to abandon Angela to go outside and light up.

  Somebody whispered. It was almost too quiet to hear. She looked at Simon. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Simon glanced up from his book.

  The whisper came again.

  —Cassie…—

  “Who’s there?” Cassandra stood, ears straining.

  —Angela… Cassie…—

  The voice echoed as if it came from a far larger room. Cassandra realized she was hearing it in her mind. “Nadia!”

  She closed her eyes and concentrated. —Nadia. I can hear you.—

  —Call me. This is difficult.—

  Her eyes flew open, and she dug her phone out of her pocket. Cassandra dialed, and the phone rang once. Nadia picked up.

  “Cassandra. Thank you. I tried calling Angela, but her phone’s off. F
or some reason, I can’t hear your mind very well right now.”

  “I had the same trouble hearing Angela thinking. Something’s happening to all of us.” Cassandra scratched at her scalp then pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting down her rising anxiety.

  “I’ve had visions of fighting. War. It’s as if every time I close my eyes, I am in a battlefield. What is going on, child?”

  Cassandra rolled alongside the couch, reached out, and held her hand over her girlfriend’s cold, cold foot. “Angela’s gone to the other side.”

  “To the Otherworld?” Nadia’s voice betrayed her concern, and for the first time, Cassandra felt warmth toward Angela’s fearsome great-aunt.

  “She went someplace different. She said she was going to where the enemy lives.”

  “Enemy? Is this the enemy I told you to protect her from?”

  “Um, yeah.” Maybe Cassandra should have argued with Angela about this, but it probably would have escalated into a huge fight. “She’s hard to argue with.”

  Nadia sighed. “There’s nothing to be done now. So, tell me what’s going on.”

  Cassandra related all that had taken place since she had returned from the hospital.

  Nadia grunted. “So, that’s what it is.”

  “What’re you seeing? What’s Angela doing?” Cassandra was about to leap out of her skin from the tension.

  “The art of the chovihani has many parts. The most important is the work with the spirits. The Otherworld is full of spirits of all kinds—some great, some small, most of them with no morality but power. Angela is fighting a powerful spirit.” She paused then continued in a deeper tone of voice. “I saw her with a group of warriors. But she wasn’t fighting them. She was marching with them, going someplace important.”

  Cassandra’s head whirled with the relief of tension. Angela was alive. And she wasn’t alone. “Can you reach her? Make her see you or hear you? ‘Cause I can’t find her at all, and that’s never happened before.”