The God of Battles

  War on Earth

  “Those vets deserve better than that. They go through hell…”

  —

  “Our boys come home, and what do they get?”

  —

  “Not even a pat on the back? No way.”

  —

  “If I have anything to say about it…”

  —

  “Open that new hospital wing…”

  —

  “It’s dedicated to PTSD sufferers.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

  Lost

  She felt as if she had lost her brother again. But a wild rush of anger overwhelmed Cassandra’s sadness. For a moment, she considered attacking the Girl, though she knew such an act would incur instant annihilation. For Angela’s sake, she mastered her feelings and bowed her head in acquiescence.

  “Now, as to our angel.” The Girl went over to where Angela was standing, and reaching out with a slim, delicate hand, she touched Angela’s face. Angela jerked as if stung.

  “Slave of war, look in my eyes,” the Girl commanded.

  Angela squinted at her as if staring into a brilliant light. She said nothing.

  “You need to fight for what you want, Diamond Angel.” The Girl’s mouth quirked into a half-smile. “The gods help those who help themselves, or so they say. What I say is that you must fight me.”

  Angela stepped back suddenly and grasped the pommel of her sword.

  The Girl lifted a hand. “No. We do not fight with swords here. In the Palace of Love, the only worthy form of combat is for body to strive, weaponless, against body. You call it wrestling.” She gestured. “Remove your armor.”

  Angela paused, unmoving. Then she began slowly pressing studs and removing her protective gear. Great plates landed with a crash, like a thunderclap in a cathedral, leaving her clothed in padded leggings and a shirt. Meanwhile, the Girl untied a single thong around her waist, and in one smooth, effortless movement divested herself of her panoply of war. She stood naked before them all, and both Cassandra and Simon knelt, bowing their heads before her glory.

  “Remove your clothes.” The Girl’s voice floated to Cassandra’s ears. “Wrestling is best done naked.” She paused. “Good. Let us begin.”

  Cassandra sneaked a peek. Angela was nude, and while the effect of the Girl’s beauty was to arouse awe, Angela’s body gave rise to a more human reaction. Cassandra had never grown tired of seeing her girlfriend unclothed, and in this preternatural place, Angela assumed a superhuman aura that magnified the effect.

  Simon Iron Star had also lifted his head, his face slack with wonder. Their eyes met, and an understanding passed between them. Worship was not required here, simply their undivided attention. Both stood, Simon crossing his arms, his face expressionless, and they watched the combatants.

  The Girl and Angela began circling, making passes with their hands. Their breathing filled the silence. Then Angela feinted with her right hand and lunged forward to grapple. The Girl evaded easily then grasped Angela’s extended right arm. Angela went sprawling.

  The Girl waited for Angela to get to her feet, and they resumed circling. “You should not telegraph your moves like that,” she said. “Love is a secret invader. Like so.”

  She darted in, reaching for Angela’s body. She had feinted, though, as her right foot swept through an efficient arc, knocking the mortal woman off her feet. Before the Girl could pin her, Angela rolled swiftly aside and flipped to her feet. An electrical crackling sound came and went as she regained her upright stance.

  “Good. I see you’re using your power now.” Respect warmed the Girl’s voice as she and Angela crouched, just out of arms’ reach of each other. “Why do you fear your true strength, Lady?”

  “I’m not afraid of power,” Angela gasped. “I respect it, and I won’t abuse it.” She crouched lower and threw her weight to one side as the Girl rushed at her. Angela turned and trapped the Girl with her left arm, pivoted, and hurled the Girl to the floor. But Angela’s momentum was too great, and with a thrust of her arm, the Girl pushed her off balance. Both of them landed on their backs then rolled to their feet.

  Cassandra’s chest cramped at seeing Angela fighting for all their lives. She wanted to go help her girlfriend fight this person, but something held her down with an oppressive weight on her shoulders. An inspiration struck her. “Angela! Go get her! You can do it!”

  Angela glanced at Cassandra, and the Girl rushed to take advantage of her distraction. But Angela dodged aside. Then both Cassandra and Simon cheered Angela on with shouts of “Get her!” and “You can do it!”

  “Your friends love you, Angela,” the Girl said. “They are worthy worshippers at the altar of Love, and it grows stronger within you. Have you considered your other people? Those other exiles from the old world who yet remain, life after life, on earth?” She spoke lightly, amused. She was not as winded as Angela.

  Angela glared at her, circling warily. “What are you talking about?”

  The Girl stopped moving and stood more erect. “Don’t you know? Your grandfather warned you that you were waking up the old powers. He spoke of your people, such as the Chancellor and the General here.” She waved at the watching mortals.

  Angela stood as well, looking at her friends. She looked young, vulnerable, her eyes shining, her lips downturned. She whispered, “My people.” Then her face crumpled in grief. Tears rolled freely from her eyes as if she stared into some personal hell.

  At that moment of greatest vulnerability, the Girl took a quick step to one side, turned, crouched, and swept a slender leg. Angela fell like a sack of grain. The Girl rose at an angle and dropped, pinning Angela to the floor.

  “I win,” the Girl said. Her voice, though not raised, rang in the stillness. Angela struggled briefly but subsided, realizing that she was beaten.

  The Girl leaned down to touch the mortal woman’s lips with her own. The air flexed, and a shower of sparks arced across the floor from beneath Angela’s body.

  Angela sighed. “Free…” Her face shone, radiant with wonder.

  The Girl rose to her feet and stepped back. “All of you may leave.” She pointed at Simon. “You, avatar of War, shall take your place in the realm of Bald Eagle, but in due time you shall come to me in tryst. As for the rest of you…” She smiled sweetly. “You are free to pursue your destinies. Never forget me.”

  She spoke lightly, but those last words, as with everything else she had said, imprinted themselves indelibly on Cassandra’s mind.

  Then an enormous storm of wind arose with a full-throated howl. Bowled off her feet, Cassandra scrabbled at the featureless floor to no avail as she was swept away from the Girl and the rose-colored mist into a tumbling, blood-red abyss.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

  Assumption

  A final task does them await,

  A payment due, a separate fate

  A liberated man to rise,

  A war to end, a goddess mate.

  Something soft was lifting her, pushing her into the sky. Angela struggled against entangling folds wrapped around her limbs. She brushed against a yielding surface and heard a grunt.

  The world came into focus. She was in bed, and Cassandra lay by her side. Gray morning light seeped in through gaps in the drawn curtains. Angela lay on the fold-out bed in Eric’s living room, where they had begun their Otherworldly journey.

  “Cassie?” Angela’s throat stung with the effort of speaking.

  “Mm?” Cassandra’s body jerked suddenly, making the bedsprings creak. She reached out with an arm, groped, and found Angela.

  Angela raised herself up on one elbow. Her head spun with the exertion. “Hey. We’re back home.”

  “Angela? Oh God.” Cassandra pulled Angela to her.

  They hugged tightly, silent for a moment. Then they disengaged and looked at each other’s faces. Angela kissed Cassandra lightly.

  “Sleep?” Angela’s leaden body was already complaining.

  “Sleep.” W
ith that, Cassandra’s eyes closed.

  The next morning, Angela found a note from Eric telling her to call her great-uncle.

  “Angela?” Michael’s voice on the phone was hoarse. “They got Nadia!”

  Angela’s heart skipped. “What? Who got… is she…?”

  “The immigration people came and took her away!”

  Angela sat back in the kitchen chair. “Oh no. That can’t be right. Listen, stay where you are, and I’ll take care of it.”

  There was a pause. Then, “Take care of it? How?”

  She smiled. “I have my ways, Michael. You should get an apology from them very soon.”

  He sighed into the phone. “Okay, I will. Please be careful, my Angel.”

  The sobriquet gave her pause. George had always called her that. Perhaps it was a more literally true title than anyone had known. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she reassured him that she would be careful and hung up. She looked at Cassandra, who was frowning. “Cassie, the immigration people took Nadia away.” Cassandra opened her mouth to speak. Angela continued. “I’m going to fix that right now.”

  She set the phone down, closed her eyes, and summoned the connection she now had with her oversoul. A core of warmth deep in her chest opened up as if her lungs had expanded to enormous size. Within the emptiness, something moved as if winds were stirring.

  “I am here.” The voice of her oversoul was quiet and calm within her mind. Angela was enclosed within the world’s warm embrace.

  She marshaled her thoughts. “Bald Eagle attacked Dark Eyes, and now Nadia is in trouble.”

  “Your destiny does not allow for her to be in jeopardy. All is well, beloved.”

  A powerful current of force moved through Angela’s body, arcing from the base of her spine up and out her forehead. She opened her eyes, and for a moment the room was filled with brilliance in all the colors of light. That faded, and she looked into the wide-eyed face of her girlfriend. “Done.”

  “Holy shit. I felt that!” Cassandra shook her head. Then she contemplated Angela. “Say, now that you’re a superhero, can you fix this?” She gestured to her broken leg.

  Angela laughed then took pity on the stricken woman. “I wish. As far as I know, I can’t ask my oversoul to violate natural law.” She snorted. “Whatever that means. She will only fix problems caused by supernatural interference. It’s what I get for joining with her.” She patted Cassandra’s knee. “You’ll be back on your feet soon, anyway.”

  An hour later the phone rang.

  “Nadia’s home.” Michael’s voice was expansive with relief. “It was the neighbors. They’ve been trouble for a while, you know. Well, they tried to say Nadia was an illegal.”

  Angela had to chuckle. “I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes now.”

  “No. Me neither.” He cleared his voice. “You remember Josef? He’s friends with someone in immigration. He heard about this and took care of it.”

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  “She’s resting. I’ll tell her you called, Angela.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Angela hung up. She and Cassandra regarded each other for a moment, then Angela stood, bent, and kissed Cassandra on the forehead. “Hon, I’m going to call Simon.”

  Simon sounded rested and calmer than she had ever heard before.

  “Come on over. There’s a lot to talk about,” he said.

  After leaving a note for Eric, Angela and Cassandra drove to Simon’s in companionable silence. Traffic was light, and there was no sign of the disquiet from the day before.

  When they arrived, Simon greeted them at the door with a smile. “I made tea.”

  Angela bent to hug him then went in. They gathered around the coffee table.

  “So, you’re going back?” Cassandra affected nonchalance, slouching in her chair. She picked her nails with her pocketknife and didn’t look up.

  Simon nodded. “Yep. You were there.” His mouth closed in a tense line.

  Angela understood both of them. Much of what they had experienced was beyond speech, affecting each of them at the deepest levels. She asked Simon the question on all their minds. “Do you know if you’re coming back?”

  “I don’t know.” Simon shifted in his chair. “Maybe. I have a feeling that’s up to my new boss.”

  “Bald Eagle.” Angela’s statement was flat.

  “That’s crazy!” Cassandra spun to face Simon, her hands clenched on the wheels of her chair. “Why do you have to do what he says? He sounds like an asshole.”

  “Cassie, listen. I joined with my oversoul. I can’t tell you what that feels like, but…” He paused and exchanged knowing glances with Angela. “I just know what I need to do now. It is right for me to serve Bald Eagle. And I’m leaving this afternoon.”

  “Does that mean you’re gonna die?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I got the feeling that I’m supposed to keep my self intact. Like, not just die and be absorbed by Iron Star. Keep being me.”

  “Cassie.” Angela touched Cassandra’s shoulder. “My oversoul mated with Bald Eagle.”

  “That’s gross.” Cassandra’s mouth was pursed.

  “But I have to deal with it.” Angela dropped her hand. “I remember what it felt like. Bald Eagle is an Egregore. He hurt a lot of people, and I can’t reconcile that with the ecstasy of union. Maybe Simon Iron Star will make a difference where I couldn’t.”

  “Maybe.”

  Angela watched Cassandra’s downcast features with a sense of inevitability. Cassandra had fallen in love with Simon, despite being lesbian. They had a deep connection, and Angela felt a primitive twinge of jealousy, which she suppressed.

  Cassandra started rolling forward and back, staring at her feet. “What if you don’t return? I mean, we might come back and find your dead body.”

  Simon sighed. “Then I want you to call 9-1-1 and tell them I died. It’d probably look like a heart attack or something.”

  At Cassandra’s stricken look, Simon went to her side. He glanced at Angela, who nodded. Then he covered Cassandra’s hand with his own. “Cassie, listen to me. Each of us has a path. Sometimes we learn what that path is and get to walk it with our eyes open. This is my path. You’ve got your path, as Angela has hers.”

  She looked at him and sniffed.

  He continued. “Besides, you’re a telepath. You know how to reach me. Just… drop me a line once in a while. I’m not gone forever.”

  She reached out to him, and they hugged awkwardly. Angela hung back to give them some space.

  The three of them discussed contingencies. Simon’s collection would go into storage, and whatever funds were in his bank account would pay the rent. If he didn’t come back, they would notify the landlord.

  “One more thing.” Simon straightened in his chair. “I’ve added you guys to my bank account. I don’t have time to set up that trust fund.” He reached over to the coffee table and picked up a folder. “I wrote everything down this morning.”

  Angela nodded. “We’ll take care of it.”

  “It’s time, isn’t it?” Cassandra’s face was expressionless.

  “Yeah.” Simon turned to Angela. “I need to go to my meadow, if that’s okay with you.”

  Angela and Simon waited for Cassandra to arrive in Simon’s Otherworld meadow. They did not speak, enjoying the silence and beauty of that place, freed as it was from the haunting relics of his traumatic past. The heady scent of rain-washed soil filled the air, evidence of the cleansing power of emotional release, and everything alive responded with green vigor.

  A flicker in the air announced Cassandra’s astral arrival. Her face and form were indistinct until Angela reached out to touch her. The air swirled with color, and she materialized.

  Cassandra smiled at Simon’s expression. “Hey.” Her voice was cool and steady. “So, go kick some ass for us.”

  “Yeah. I’ll do that.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. They turned and hugged, rocking a litt
le in place. Then they moved apart, looking simultaneously at Angela.

  “Take good care of Cassie for me,” he said.

  “With all my heart, Simon.” Angela smiled.

  “Angela, I can’t thank you enough. You really are an angel.”

  They hugged then separated a little. Angela touched his face. “Warrior. Peaceful warrior now. Simon, you’ll always have friends here.”

  A humming sound rose out of the stillness. They looked around for the source then up to where flashes of red lit the sky, as if lightning were striking in the clouds.

  “Looks like your ride’s here.” Angela put her hands on her hips and waited.

  The hum became a roar. A massive chariot, drawn by four shape-shifting creatures, burst into view above the trees. It circled the meadow before swooping in for a landing on the grass. The chariot coruscated in shades of red with wisps of smoke rising from the spiked wheels. The creatures’ harnesses were black and gold. The eyes of the fantastical beasts glowed with knowledge as they turned to regard Simon. The chariot was empty, awaiting its master.

  Simon strolled over to it, smiling. Reaching out to grasp a fitting, he vaulted powerfully into the driver’s seat. The chariot shook as he landed, and the beasts moved restlessly.

  Angela and Cassandra hung back out of the way. Simon had acquired the armor and accoutrements of Iron Star and had grown in size. His union with his oversoul was complete, and Angela felt the power emanating from him as he took up the office of War Leader.

  He smiled with mingled sadness and joy as he put on his helmet and looked down at them with his fiercely glowing eyes. One hand waving in a salute, he turned the chariot to face the way it had come. He snapped the reins, and the chariot launched into movement, rising quickly into the sky. With a crashing rumble, the sky split, revealing the battlements of Bald Eagle, and the chariot flew through. The rent closed, and the rumbling faded, but black clouds came rolling in like tumbleweeds before a desert wind, darkening the sky as the sun plunged below the horizon.