Vagabonds

by Kyle Olson

  Without a word, she rushed to Tarkit and placed her hands upon his chest. Still warm. Still a chance. Her spirit reached out to his in the swirling reaches of a realm outside the universe. Spectral felines touched upon her. House-cats long past rubbed against her leg. Kings of the jungle roared at her passing.

  Innumerable spirits dwelled, each for their own reason. Just as many, if not more, had moved on, for their own reason. In the span of seconds, in the span of billions of years, she searched.

  She felt him. She saw him. A spectral cloud, drifting through that distant realm. No matter how fast she ran after him, no matter how she strained to reach out to him, to let him know, she couldn’t, as if he wasn’t aware of her chasing after.

  Then, he too, was gone.

  Perhaps, he too had his own reason.

  In the material world, a breath had passed.

  Yf took her hands off him, shook her head.

  Sejit said nothing, looking down. In her fear, she’d never said goodbye.

  With a bow of her head, Yf departed through a portal as quick and silent as she’d arrived.

  Alone with her son, Sejit wept.

  CHAPTER FORTY NINE

  Tess and Sophia had limped back to the motel room, packed their things, and were waiting for a taxi to the airport. For the most part they’d been silent about everything that had happened. There was a great deal to process and digest, at least from Sophia’s end. She sat on the end of the bed, staring out the window with a chin resting on her palm. Clouds and the chilly mist had moved back in.

  “What a shit day.”

  Tess smirked, eyes shut as she rested, “You’re telling me. At least you get to return to your normal job and carry on like nothing happened.”

  “No way. Sejit’s gonna be wound up and out for blood. Who knows what else she’ll make me do, especially now that, apparently, my amazing power got a bump.”

  “Is that so? Maybe you’ll be useful, for once.”

  “…You’re the ones pushing me for answers when you should know better. But hey, at least, eventually, I could use it to avoid getting shot and stabbed.”

  “Or avoid situations where you’ll find yourself getting shot and or stabbed.”

  “That too.”

  The gray, clouded gloom outside was mirrored inside. The day played out in her mind’s eye over and over. Most of it had been a blur, happening too fast to get a nice, solid photo of it for her mental album. She’d been too busy avoiding the many forms of death rampaging about. One thing, however, stood out to her in perfect clarity.

  The cool metal of the trigger against her finger. Its weight as she pulled it. The report, flash of light, jerk of her wrist and scent of gunpowder. The man’s eyes as his life slipped away. If the whole sequence was played back at real-time, it’d be over in a second.

  “What was it like the first time you killed someone?”

  Tess cracked an eye. “You’re still thinking about that?”

  “How could I not?”

  “Because you accept it was you or him and move on. Would you think about it so much if some wild animal attacked you and you had to shoot it?”

  Sophia fidgeted, rolling the hem of her shirt between her fingers. “That’s… not it.”

  “Then what is?”

  In a way, Sophia was fortunate. There were only a handful of people in the entire world to whom she could reveal what was on her mind. None of them were mortal, save for Tarkit. The sequence played out in her mind one last time, just for good measure. To confirm. Her skin flushed.

  “It was… exciting. I got a rush from it like nothing else. I think… I think I liked it.”

  Both of Tess’ eyes opened. Sophia searched the goddess’ face for hints of surprise or concern or anything, but all she found was mild amusement.

  “Hadn’t figured you were one to get all randy over murder. That’s a rare trait. Careful not to let it get you in trouble.”

  “That’s it? It’s not normal! I mean, what if I’m… sick, or something?”

  “Gakaka-kof-ka, what is normal? Look at your life. Hardly normal! If you’re worried about killing people, just focus it into something, eh,” Tess gestured vaguely, “Useful and in-demand.”

  “Like what? I don’t want to be an assassin!”

  “No, of course not. You’d be a shitty assassin. I meant something like… A dominatrix.”

  Sophia’s flush deepened, “What? No!”

  “Guys and gals alike will pay good money to have you hurt them. Hey, I can even teach you a couple tricks that’ll get you loaded in no time.”

  Sophia collapsed face-first into the bed, burying her face in the pillows—until she remembered where she was and what was probably on said pillows. Her treacherous mind considered things. She imagined hurting people, and how they’d ask for more, of all things!

  Wasn’t such a… terrible idea.

  Before she could explore that path further, Yf appeared.

  Even as she was walking through the portal, she spoke.

  “Tarkit is dead.”

  For all the wisdom and knowledge of the gods, damned if they could keep a plan together for more than fifteen minutes.

  Ultimately, they wound up in Coanphany, of all places. They couldn’t stay in Erton and risk being attacked once again, even though Sejit was sure to reappear. Likewise, Yosel was a dangerous place, one Erton wouldn’t have many qualms about assaulting to get at any of them. So, Coanphany it was. Much as they didn’t like it, Tess especially, they were in no position to fight off Sejit without him.

  Half a day had passed since Yf delivered the news.

  Ifon’s personal chamber within the palace had never seen more than himself and Phytos in it in years. Now the goddess whom he’d attempted to kill after killing her family was walking about the place. The goddess who, doubtless, would try to murder him soon as the more pressing matter was dealt with.

  Life had a way of keeping things interesting, even if it was the wrong sort of interesting, by most standards. It was fine by him, because the sort of interesting that could get you killed was all the more interesting.

  “I’m amazed half of Erton isn’t up in flames already,” Ifon said as he sipped on a tumbler of whiskey.

  “He was her purpose,” Tess said as she perused his collection of curios along one wall, “She’ll be grieving for a while yet.”

  He tipped the tumbler, watching the amber liquid slosh from one side to the other, “Hard to believe a mortal could affect her so.”

  Tess twisted in place, studying him. She held a decayed dagger, a relic of the Fionsys empire, running a finger along its pitted edge. “Have a child and you’ll understand.”

  He studied her right back. She was tall for a woman, though she was still short compared to Sejit, with a build catered towards the feminine, of home and family, of attraction. Beautiful to Sejit’s handsome. Tess held a mother’s fury under her seductive shell, but Sejit? Sejit was war bent and shaped around wrath and passion.

  That passionate aspect of her had been there during a moment of his… Not weakness, but something else. An impetus that latched onto him. A consideration, at one point. He’d come close.

  But children were children.

  And they were mortal. One day, they would die.

  Even when Sejit let go, the impetus remained. It ate away at him, until he directed it elsewhere, found new purpose. He divined the smoky liquid, gazed into a future in which he’d followed along.

  “So I can wind up like you and her? No. You may think it cold, but then I suspect you have forgotten who we are.”

  The tip of the dagger pointed his way. “Is that so? I can only imagine how shallow your life has been. You really are a cocksucker of the worst kind.”

  Rude, crass, yet refreshing after years of maneuvering. He snorted a laugh into his glass to cover the sound, “Apologies, though that line does bear hashing out, no?”

  “What’s to hash out? Once Sejit is handled, I will kill you.”
>
  “Uh, are you sure you should be saying that?” Sophia piped up, breaking her guise of listening-while-pretending-to-not-listen. Not that she was fooling anyone.

  Ifon glared at her. Tess had insisted. And while she was mortal, she wasn’t wholly mortal. It could slide. “I thought I told you to remain silent.”

  “Good luck with that one. You think you’re going to intimidate her when she’s lived with Sejit for years?”

  Sophia glared right back. He sneered. She sneered.

  Mortals. What happened to their worship, their fear, and admiration?

  “Yeah, she was way scarier than you. You’re like, nice in comparison.”

  His chest twinged. Nice. He’d been called many, many things in his lifetime, but that was a new one.

  “Regardless,” Ifon said, clearing his throat, “I can appreciate the directness—I look forward to your attempt on my life once the immediate threat is dealt with. With Daontys, I was always waiting for the knife to come down in my back. Still am, really.”

  Tess spun the dagger round and placed it back on the shelf. “What do you mean? He’s dead.”

  “He is, but there are two other gods he had in his pantheon. They’ve vanished. Wio and someone else I can’t remember. He sent them out not long before our little scrap, though on what, I don’t know.”

  “…Fantastic.”

  “Isn’t it? Thought you might want to know.”

  “Remind me again, who or what is Wio?”

  Ifon nodded. Wio was a tiny nothing, a god’s shell filled with a mortal’s presence. What a tragic existence. “God of Mischief or something. Shapeshifter. Watch your back. That goes for you too, girl.”

  “I appreciate you looking out for me, but my name is Sophia.”

  “Consider yourself fortunate I speak to you at all. How someone like you rose to such eminence among us beggars belief.”

  “Asshole.”

  Tess laughed. Ifon had to breath out his nose in a slow exhale.

  “Back to the original topic, if I may? How long do you think until Sejit acts?”

  “Another day, maybe? She’s been unsettled so who can say what’s going on in that head of hers.”

  “Unsettled?”

  “Don’t act coy, you shit. You and Daontys pushed her into this.” Tess’ fingers danced across shelves as she walked, stopping at a figurine of a lion, its mouth opened wide to depict sand flowing forth from the maw.

  Something deep within him settled in his gut. Shame, it was called. All the… politics. He’d intended to force her hand, get the first move out of her so he could respond favorably. She’d been manipulated. They both were.

  “What’s done is done,” Ifon declared, “So let’s say we have a day. I’m still not fully recovered, though I should be fine by tomorrow. I trust by your slight wheezing you still need time?”

  “Yes. I don’t know the last time someone hurt me like that,” Tess said, calmly, as her fingers leapt from the lion carving to a small wolf. She picked it up, held it in her palm, fingers curled up as if threatening to crush it.

  “Maybe we’ll be lucky. Maybe she won’t go on a murderous rampage,” Ifon said in hesitant, sarcastic nature of someone who didn’t believe their own words.

  The room went silent.

  Sophia forced a sarcastic laugh. “Ha ha ha. Oh you.”

  “Well, here’s to hoping the end of the world can wait a few days,” Ifon said, raising his glass to no one.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Days passed while the global media circus stirred the entire planet into a frothing frenzy.

  Signs of the gods, of divine miracles and powers!

  Erton bombed its own soil, wiping out a man with close ties to many powerful and influential figures! President Temmen declines to comment!

  Marshal Reith missing, Vice-Marshal declines to comment!

  Cults sprung up like weeds, especially in Coanphany. Many eyes and ears turned that way, because Ifon always had something to say.

  He declined to comment.

  Three days passed with no signs of Sejit. With those two in his quarters.

  Then, a call on the red line.

  “Ifon speaking.”

  A few words from the other end.

  “We’re certain? Good work on positioning the satellites. Yes. Yes. The entire Gufston Building? Before it was blocked by clouds? Right. Keep an eye on it. Oh, and I’ll be unavailable for the next day or two. Yes, again. Yes, I know. Anything else comes up, notify Bernand or Kamona.”

  He hung up the handset and stood from his desk, working his shoulders in circles to alleviate the stiffness that’d set in from a long morning of signing off on paperwork.

  “So, she’s finally at it?” Tess asked as she watched a documentary on the television. A television Ifon had specifically had to ask be brought in to cater to her wishes.

  “Yes. As I’m sure you overhead, we received footage from a passing satellite of their national government complex. Demolished in minutes, piecemeal, until the area was blocked by cloud cover.”

  Tess flicked the television off and tossed the remote on the nearby coffee table. Sophia woke up from her nap, the lack of background noise rousing her. She wiped at an eye and yawned, “What’s going on?”

  “It’s begun,” Tess said, solemnly.

  “…Oh. I was starting to hope maybe she wouldn’t.”

  “Wouldn’t that be something? Though really, I’m amazed she held back this long. Last time she went ballistic in a hurry.”

  “Last time?” Ifon inquired, “Now how do you know about that?”

  “You could say I’m privileged to this and that,” Tess said, picking at a hangnail. When she couldn’t pluck it off with her fingernails, she chewed it off with a quick snap of teeth. Ifon gave her the same sort of look he would a stray mongrel licking its genitals in the middle of a street for all to see.

  “I see. I am to assume this privileged information will not be shared?”

  “You assume correctly.”

  Sophia debated finishing her nap while those two went on another bickering spree. On occasion it got heated enough she had to beat a hasty retreat in case things got violent, but for the most part they just picked at each other, constantly ripping off scabs. In a way, she thought they were perfect for each other. A thought she was sure to never mention, lest she die a second premature death.

  “So be it. There’s a small military transport we can take that’ll have us to Erton in a few hours.”

  “Great! So, let’s get going, shall we?”

  “Let’s.”

  The three of them proceeded towards the door, which made Tess pause. “You want to come?” she said, brow cocked in Sophia’s direction.

  “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

  “If you want to kill yourself, I won’t stop you.”

  “How dangerous can it be? I survived through the fight between you two. Twice! In fact,” Sophia said, puffing up with a quiet sniff, “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be dead. Also twice!”

  “Hah!” Came a deep, reverberating laugh from Ifon, “So she’s the reason why Yf appeared and saved you? Outstanding!”

  “Yeah, whatever asshole. I still almost got you. And let’s not forget I killed Daontys, shall we?”

  “If I recall, it was their bomb that killed him,” Ifon said, arms crossed across his chest.

  “Yeah, and how come he was weak enough that managed to kill him, and then also saved everyone else? That’s right, this goddess,” she boasted, jabbing a thumb into her chest, “That fucker is dead, and you’re next,” her hand shifted to point a finger at the wolf.

  “You’ll have to take a number, Sejit has the first dance.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, mine’ll come up.”

  Sophia rolled her eyes. “If you two are done, yeah, I’m going, even if it is a deathwish. Dunno why, but I really feel like I should.”

  “If you say so,” Tess said, the edge falling from her words, “Though that does re
mind me…”

  She slid her phone from a pocket and tapped on the screen, sending a message to Yf that it’d begun and, if possible, her aid would be much appreciated. Since she had yet to give any sort of definitive answer, Tess upped the ante. Rewards would be involved. If there was anything to get Yf’s attention…

  Within seconds, she got a response.

  Tess made a face like she’d licked a lemon.

  “Yf is sitting this one out, I assume?”

  “She says she still needs to think about it. So, whatever, she’s a no. Let’s go, she can bullshit herself over instantly anyways.”

  “Quite the handy ability to possess.”

  Tess and Sophia went through first, Ifon following behind to close and lock the door. To Sophia, it clacked shut like a door that would never open again, which was a strange notion considering doors and locks didn’t make a different sound if they’d never open again—if one could even guess such a thing. But there it was, a familiar noise, only… burdened. She didn’t want to rush into another death, yet here she was, waltzing right towards the grave.

  CHAPTER FIFTY ONE

  By the time their aircraft arrived, The Lady of Slaughter’s miracles were wrought upon the nation of Erton. The capital had been left in ruin, scarcely any building stood whole. A wide skyline of multistory offices and homes had been erased. So too was most of the airport.

  But, unlike the civilian pilots who were at a loss for procedure when the air traffic controller had simply vanished, the military craft soldiered on.

  As they were on approach, however, the pilot made an observation. “Is that… red rain?”

  “Blood,” Tess said, “She saves that special treat for when she’s really pissed.”

  The pilot, a veteran of multiple campaigns, a man who’d been shot down twice and survived two prisoner-of-war camps, was beginning to wonder if he’d signed up for the wrong profession. Still, he was a good soldier, and his liege was aboard. A god to counter a god, never mind who those other two were. Funny thing, ferrying a god. Who’d have thought they’d need to use planes?