by Kyle Olson
Given what he knew, there was no doubt Tess would be down there, somewhere, waiting to repulse an attack. Had he not taken up the task himself, Daontys would have dispatched a number of lesser gods. She was going to be in for a surprise.
That bitch was one step above the dregs, if only because there was no doubt in his mind she had to be the one that killed Phytos. She must’ve gotten the drop on him, or employed some trickery to defeat him. That had to be it.
His particular brand of honor was always a sticking point, not that Ifon blamed him. It was nice to have a reminder, to have counterweight to point out when he was heading too far down the dark path. Like now. What would Phytos advise here?
Revenge wasn’t the only reason he’d come, however. Chances were good she’d be down there, somewhere. Probably with the jackal.
First step would be to convince her to switch sides, which, according to the last report from… The mousey one, was doable. Apparently the new-born sphinx did not get on well with the other gods. Then again, who knew how the world looked through that one’s eyes.
Trained mice attempting to persuade a lion? Hah!
What a strange creature she was, too.
Such a fascinating lineage. Little wonder Sejit took an interest in her, and look at us, attempting to sway a mortal to our cause. If it’s true Lorithyl’s blood is thick enough in her to manifest, then that explains some things. But then, why would Sejit so recklessly attack us?
At first, Ifon had been dismissive of the tiny sphinx, but Daontys pressed the matter and they engaged in conversation at length, with the conclusion being that as she was, at best, a fraction of god in the tenths. Her capacity compared to Lorithyl’s was a flashlight to a star. May not have been much, but she could still be useful. Or a nuisance, depending on which side she fell.
Sometimes the splinter in the paw was a bigger pain in the ass than the real threat. So, recruit the girl. If that failed, she would be removed from the equation, much as he disliked the prospect. Using his force on hapless mortals was, no matter how irritating they might become, a distasteful prospect. Maybe he would hire someone to do the deed should it come to it.
Thoughts came to a standstill when a muffled bang thumped through the cabin and the plane lurched. Seconds later a second explosion shook the craft and it began to roll. Ifon was thrown from his seat, face pressed against the window—from his new vantage point, he could make out a ball of fire where an engine ought to have been.
That bitch! What a fucking—
Tess disassembled her rifle and packed up, humming a little tune as she went along, like someone who’d had a good day at the target range. Meanwhile, Sophia stared at the plummeting craft, flames billowing from its sides. Each passing second quickened her heart. One of the wings tore away, sending it into a mad tumble.
Less than a minute after Tess fired the first shot, piercing through one engine and then shot the other, the plane slammed into the ground, a flaming lawn-dart exploding on impact.
A dull thud smacked Sophia in the chest and the massive fireball filled her vision for a fleeting moment. Wreckage burned, sending up gouts of oily, black smoke.
She’d known there was only one way for their excursion to the airfield to end, yet until the moment Tess squeezed the trigger, it’d felt more like an irritating trip more than anything else. A trip that would see to it that Ifon alone would perish. For a time, all was still, silent until the sirens wailed.
She forced herself to look away, sight falling upon Tess as she snapped the latches shut on her case and stood.
“Let’s fall back to someplace that’ll give us a better defensive edge.”
“What?” Sophia asked, her gut twisting into a knot, “You mean that won’t kill him?” She indicated to the burning wreck in the distance, now surrounded by foam-spraying fire engines.
“Kill Ifon? Not a chance. It’ll be a grievous wound, if we’re lucky. Either he comes at us in a blind rage, or he slinks off and licks his wounds for a while. I’d prefer the former, but I probably won’t be so lucky.”
It hadn’t been the first time Sophia had experienced how the gods did things, or even the third or fourth, but this was different, somehow. How many dead, not even to kill Ifon, but delay him? Weaken him a little?
She felt… disgusted, but not because of the death toll. Actually, more worried than disgusted. Worried because she knew she should be mortified by the senseless death, yet it was on par with seeing a harmless stray dog getting a swift kick. The lives of however many, a dozen, maybe, imparted a feeling on her equivalent to mild animal abuse.
Perhaps the disgust she felt was directed at herself.
“Where are we going? The museum?”
“Nah, that’d be the worst place to go,” Tess said, pausing to observe the last remnants of the distant flames, the way the winds whipped up the dying embers and the coils of smoke. “Let’s head someplace… open. To the southwest, near all that new construction. Know any good places to grab a bite to eat that way?”
Sophia gave the goddess an odd look, “Southwest? Well…”
After Sophia had rattled off the names of a few places, they’d decided on a shop that sold pitas stuffed with all manner of ingredients. Quite tasty, and a light lunch meant dodging the afternoon doldrums that came with a meal—something best to be avoided, given current circumstances.
Otherwise, the walk back to the car from the airport was without words. Tess suspected the girl was struggling with how she did things. Fair and to be expected, after all. There was no need for explanations or moral posturing. Some things had to be done to ensure their continued survival and further the greater agenda. Sophia was young and naïve about certain things, but clever. She’d figure it out on her own if she hadn’t already.
Tess had to fiddle with the giant rifle-case to get it to slide into the secret compartment running the length of the floor on the passenger side, but once it was stowed away, Sophia took her seat and Tess walked around to the driver’s side. As her hand went to open the door, however, she noticed something out of place. On the door of her black car, she noted a red speck—and it quickly raced to the side, to what she assumed would be the back of her head.
Sophia had a speck on her as well.
A voice called out to her, “Miss Isolde, if you would be so kind as to keep your hands where I can see them.”
She turned, slowly, arms outstretched. A man in a black suit and black sunglasses walked towards her from across the parking lot. Within seconds, several black SUVs appeared and took positions up and down the street, surrounding them.
Sophia finally noticed and moved to get out. “Stay put,” Tess barked.
The girl halted mid-belt-unbuckling and nodded.
“Now, who might you be, interrupting me like this? I’ve places to be, you know.”
The man’s stony expression did not waver, and he came to a stop a good ten feet away from her.
“In addition to questioning related to certain events, you were also observed firing a weapon at an aircraft several minutes ago. Come with us, peacefully.”
“What certain events might those be?”
The man threw a pair of handcuffs towards her, where they clattered upon the asphalt and slid to her feet. “Put those on.”
“You’re being really rude right now,” Tess said, adding a “Hmph,” to the end, “I want to speak to your manager.”
“Put on the handcuffs.”
“Kiss my ass.”
The man in the suit motioned with a hand, holding up two fingers.
A muffled crack punctuated by a sharp whistle pierced through Tess’ shoulder. She jerked to the side, grunting in pain. Sophia jolted in her seat, reached for the handle, but stopped as she noticed a red dot on the back of her hand.
That one came from someone who isn’t using a marker… Over… there, I expect, thought Tess.
“Put on the handcuffs.”
“Gakakaka! Oh, how long it’s been a long time since I’ve fe
lt the burning kiss of hot lead!”
Another round pierced her calf; she yelped and dropped to a knee.
While it did hurt like a motherfucker, but she had to be careful not to oversell it.
And that one from over there. Too much distance between the two. If I consider they have one or two fixed on Sophia, that means what, at least five in position?
In her mind, a map of the immediate area formed. Most of the buildings around them were one or two-story structures without much place to hide on their roofs. There was, however, a leafy tree over there. A three-story hotel with open windows there. A house or two they could have commandeered there and there…
They’re not fucking around, are they? Definitely not Yosel forces…
Which means Sejit won’t mind.
Perhaps because she was on a knee, or that she had been shot through twice, the man grew bold and approached within spitting distance. “Lay down, face first. Hands behind your back. Now.”
Well, there was a way to solve the puzzle of where they were all hiding: Brute force.
“Face first on the ground? Sorry, I’m a total top,” she snickered, then jerked to the side—just in time to dodge the third round.
“How by the book!”
She stormed to her feet like she’d never been shot, grabbed the agent, and spun him round so he was facing the small army bursting from their SUVs and the invisible sharpshooters.
“Tell you what,” she whispered into the man’s ear, jerking his bound arm upwards, threatening to break his shoulder, “You treated me with respect. That means a lot to me. Be a good boy and call this off, and you all walk out of here alive. How about it?”
“Are you insane?!” He grunted, “You’ll let us walk out of here alive?”
“One time offer, take it or leave it.”
“Fuck you,” he grunted, and then, shouted, “Stop her!”
“Ah, a shame. Negotiations have broken down!”
The semi-circle of agents closed on her, weapons drawn under supporting fire from the snipers. Despite being larger than the agent she did well to hide behind him, sheltering her limbs and shifting side to side enough to throw off their aim. They didn’t want to hit the hostage, after all—though the fact they were firing at all spoke volumes.
Tess was faced with a decision: How many questions did she want to leave behind?
More questions meant an easier time of dealing with them, but questions… Sejit was going to have her hands full regardless, wasn’t she? And her being out of the country at this convenient time was sure to pose questions of its own, in addition to all those lurking, waiting to burst out alongside Ifon.
This is becoming one big fuckin’ shitstorm, ain’t it? What’s a little gas on top? Hopefully that asshole isn’t watching. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise!
When most people thought of magic and, by extension, fire magic, it was always assumed that something was needed to kick it off. A chanted spell, fancy hand signs, circles drawn on the ground, a long windup with ominous shaking or lights—something. It was the same with any technology that could create such widespread, yet remarkably precise, destruction to melt stone. The agents had been briefed on the potential results of their encounter. There had to be something big to create it, and it probably needed to be set up or activated in a conspicuous manner.
Thus, it was expected something first had to happen. So as long as her hands were busy holding her hostage and she was kept dancing by gunfire, they were safe from both technology and magic.
What Tess wielded was a third option, one that had gone unconsidered: Divinity.
It came as revelation, then, when suspected sharpshooter hideaways erupted in gouts of flame, shattered glass, and exploded branches. An invisible hand yanked a heavy curtain of fire across the encroaching agents, scattering them in screaming chaos.
Seconds.
It had only taken seconds to gut the two-dozen-strong team. There’d been no movement, no ensorcelled words from the woman. What had changed, however, as the agent was keenly aware of, was that he was no longer held by human arms. He braved the risk to look over his shoulder. Ruby red eyes and a long, black snout threatening to poke him in the cheek peered right back at him.
“A shame it’s over so soon,” The jackal-creature said with a bored sigh, words made difficult by a throat not meant to speak, “Return to your masters and tell them to piss off, will you? I have no desire for revenge or whatever else.”
She released the agent, even gave him a shove forward. He stumbled two or three steps and looked back. A woman stood there once more. “Run along now,” she said, as if speaking to a child.
A few men groaned in pain as the flames subsided. Some sizzled. The stench of burnt flesh and hair hung in the air.
Tess got in her car, pausing to curse at a bullet hole in the door, and drove off after donning her sunglasses.
Sophia had been stone silent save for uttering the fewest words possible when ordering her lunch.
“What’s wrong, not hungry?”
Her face remained focused upon the pitas, but her eyes drifted up. She blinked once. Twice.
“The screams,” she said, weakly, “The smell.”
“One of the many reasons I dislike using fire on mortals. If it’s any comfort, most of them went in a flash.”
“What I don’t understand,” Sophia said, pausing to search for the words. She picked up a pita as if it were the most fragile thing in existence, “Is I’ve seen… Sejit has killed people, right in front of me. Right? Blood, bone, gore. The first time, I couldn’t sleep for days, but I got over it pretty fast. I was afraid of her, too, but I got over that. Not that long ago she twisted off a guy’s head and all I could think was “Oh, not this again,” but today…”
She took a small bite, chewing gingerly.
“How can I eat, now? Shouldn’t I be, more, you know?”
“Horrified?” Tess said, mumbling through a mouth packed with pita. Sophia’s nose wrinkled up at the sight.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Tess swallowed. The restaurant was—perhaps owing to not just a plane crash but some sort of government whatsit that left an entire block in ruins, which also happened to be near the airfield—not particularly crowded. What customers there were, gabbed with each other and the staff about the ceaseless violence, and how they’d hoped the string of terrorism was over.
“I blame modern media with all that violence,” she said, dabbing at her lips with a napkin.
“Because of all the TV and movies I watch.”
“Or hanging around us and your little transformed changed you. Maybe it’s in your blood to be ruthless.”
“It’s my blood to not care about people dying horribly? What kinda shit is that?”
Her grip on the pita tightened and she gnawed out a bigger bite.
Tess smiled in response.
Lunch devoured, the pair continued away from the heart of the city and into the outskirts. Construction crews had been working weeks and months, tearing down the remnants of the past and throwing up shiny, new future. They drove to a nearly-finished development, packed with a hundred homes and apartments just waiting to be inhabited. Just beyond lay an expanse of the wild, full of shrubs, brush, small trees, and patches of sand here and there.
Tess had left a cache of weaponry here, atop one of the freshly-finished apartment buildings. As a bonus, it had a nice, concealing ridgeline. A good place to hunker down. And hunker they did.
Time drifted by, the march of the sun ticking off the day. In the distance, the noise of construction wound down and went silent.
Every time Sophia opened her mouth to ask if Tess was sure he’d come, how he’d track them there, she decided against it, because speaking those words were sure to summon him. It was just how the world worked. There was even a fear of thinking it, but after a while curiosity got the better of her and she tried to know, but the most she could get was that, yes, he was alive. The rest was… difficult to inter
pret.
But, the more she waited, the more she grew impatient—there was only so much she could do with spotty reception on her phone. Besides, another hour and the battery would be dead.
An hour after the construction crews went home, Sophia had enough and popped the question: “Are you sure he’s going to come?”
Tess’ pert jackal ears flicked atop her human head. Her nose twitched. “Most certainly.”
“How come?”
She gestured over the ridge of their perch with her eyes.
Gritting her teeth, Sophia peered over. There he was, storming towards them with purpose like a typhoon. Slow, methodical, and ready to wreak havoc.
“Damn it,” Sophia grumbled, retreating back, “I should’ve known better.”
“I was wondering when you’d say the magic words, ‘cause I sure wasn’t going to.”
The distant footfalls came to a halt. In their stead, a voice rumbled, “I know you’re there. Save what dignity you have and show yourself.”
Tess rolled her eyes and sighed. Taking a few shots, dodging from cover to cover was something that’d crossed her mind, but someone like Ifon wasn’t going to be bewildered by mundane, mortal tricks. Even still, she had plenty of uses for the human tools, and things were still going somewhat to plan.
“Hello wolf,” Tess hollered back, popping up from cover, sun at her back. She even waved, “Fancy meeting you here.”
“You and I have something to discuss.”
“Oh? What might that be?”
Conversation at two-hundred feet was a tricky thing, but they were managing. And Ifon resumed narrowing the gap, step by step.
“Phytos. What happened to him?”
Tess twitched. It wasn’t that she had forgotten, but that she had made it a point to not remember. Still atop the apartment, she hiked one foot up onto the bit of wall that’d served as her cover and leaned forward. “The great Ifon cares about his peons? Will the wonders of the world never cease?”
“Watch your tongue, cur,” Ifon snapped, “You are in the presence of greatness.”