Eight Million Gods

by Wen Spencer

  The car was stopped at the edge of a cliff. The earth fell away in a sharp line. Clouds gathered below in a rumbled blanket of gray.

  Sato got out of the car, saying something quietly in Japanese.

  The spider-woman climbed out of the front and yanked open Nikki’s door.

  Nikki yipped in fear, scrambled into the front seat and out Sato’s door. The spider-woman scrambled over the car on all fours and leapt at her, tackling Nikki to the ground.

  Nikki screamed and flailed but the woman pinned her easily.

  “If you fight her, she’ll hurt you,” Sato said calmly. “She knows I can heal you from near death.”

  Nikki forced herself to stay still despite the fear that was choking her. A lifetime of dealing with orderlies made it possible. The spider was just like a gorilla orderly, leering at her like she was prime beef.

  A second car pulled up, headlights cutting through the predawn gloom. It was the big black luxury sedan that the goddess had been using.

  Slender feral men got out and stood guard as a girl wearing the golden kimono of the goddess drifted out of the backseat. While the woman they had seen the night they rescued Simon had seemed slightly older than Nikki, this girl seemed only about thirteen. She was a tiny little thing lost within the folds of the kimono. Blood was streaming from her eyes.

  The girl drifted toward the cliff’s edge. The hem of the golden kimono trailing behind her made it painfully obvious that she was a foot too short for the garment and that she wasn’t moving under her own power. It was possible that the girl wasn’t even fully conscious.

  She floated off the cliff and paused there, a dozen feet out and hundreds of feet up. Nikki whimpered slightly. What was Iwanaga planning? Nikki didn’t want to see this girl die.

  The girl jerked like a puppet whose string had been pulled, then she crumbled into a heap. As if the girl had been a skin that was shed, a tall woman in a shimmering kimono of white and gold stood in her place. She looked mournfully down at the girl’s body and then walked on. The girl lay there a moment and then dropped silently downward into the clouds below.

  No other women got out of the car. Where was Umeko? Had Iwanaga burned through all her shrine maidens? Was that why Sato kidnapped Nikki—because Iwanaga would need a vessel after they remade the world? Or would they just throw her off the edge of the world to make sure she wasn’t revealing his plans to Shiva?

  The spider-woman hoisted Nikki up and carried her to the edge of the cliff. Only as they neared the edge did Nikki see that the air was distorted beyond the crumbling face. They stepped off, and she locked down on a scream. She could see down through the wispy clouds to the shrine maiden’s body like a small broken doll on the rocks below.

  And then under them, there appeared a bridge, of gleaming white as if sunlight had become solid.

  The need to write had been nibbling at the edges of her awareness, pushed aside by her fear. As the spider-monster carried her up the steep arch of the bridge, heading to where Sato stood waiting with the jeweled spear, the need surged up, drowning her. She writhed against the spider’s hold, her hands fluttering madly. She knew, though, that she didn’t want the relief that a pen and paper would provide. All that was left of the story was death and destruction. All her characters—every single one of them a real living person—Miriam and Leo and Pixii and Simon—was about to die in a massive tsunami. Riding the madness of her OCD, her mind was filling with the images of bodies thrashing in dark waves.

  “No!” she wailed. The more she struggled, the worse the OCD rushed through her, threatening to sweep her utterly away into mad writing. She’d be totally helpless if she became trapped in her own insanity. She needed to get free and stop this, somehow.

  She flailed desperately, clawing at the spider-whore’s hands that gripped her tightly. The hands looked like smooth white flesh but felt like hard, cold china under her fingers. There were sharp, hard points of chitin under the illusion, like invisible thorns. The spines stabbed into her fingers. She screamed in pain and frustration, welcoming both as they pushed back the need to write. Blood, hot and sticky, flowed from the wounds.

  “Let me go!” she shouted. “Go curl up and die someplace!”

  She smeared the word “die” on the spider-woman’s upper arm.

  The spider spasmed in pain and released her. It staggered backwards and collapsed to the gleaming deck of the bridge.

  She stared at it, panting. What had just happened? Had she actually killed the monster with her writing? Atsumori said her powers were divine in nature. He had said that heaven and Earth were made of different particles. Could it be that as she got closer to heaven, her ability got stronger?

  She turned toward Sato and the goddess and gasped. The two held the brilliantly gleaming spear like a solid ray of light and were raising it upward.

  Crying out in dismay, she rushed toward them. She had no plan, but somehow she had to stop them. She slammed into the goddess and, amazingly, the female staggered to the side, letting loose the spear. Nikki reached out and grabbed hold of it. It felt no more solid than sunlight. She would have thought she’d missed her grab except for the tingling potential. She yanked hard, and the bridge shook as the spear point struck the deck.

  “Idiot!” Sato shouted and tried to pull the spear from her hands. He succeeded only in pulling her off her feet so that she dangled from the shaft. “Let go!”

  “Never!” Ripped from the bridge, the trembling potential surged through her, filling her. “If I do, you’ll kill them all.”

  “They’ll die anyway! They always do!”

  She seemed to be fraying at the edges from the power of the spear. She clung to it, terrified that it would burn her out, but even more afraid to let go. “Even the stars die and you can’t stop that! You don’t have the right to kill all these people because you’re some kind of immortal freak of nature! You selfish motherfucking prick!”

  “I’ll set everything right!” Sato let go of the spear with his left hand and caught her by the hair. She knew with awful certainty that he was about to unmake her.

  “Denjiro Sato died at Hiroshima on August 6, 1945,” she shouted as her vision hazed to brilliance. “He gasped as something came falling into view. A single black teardrop of death. It was falling straight toward him. There was no escaping it. He cried out, and his scream was swallowed by an Earth-bound sun.”

  She saw the brilliance of the bomb going off. Heard the sound that was louder than the sky was big. Felt the shearing pain and then nothing.

  Her vision snapped to normal. She felt like she had been blown up a hundred times her normal size and then deflated. She panted, blinking, her body weak and light as a tattered paper doll’s.

  Iwanaga had hold of the spear. The power of the spear was filling the goddess—her eyes gleamed with brilliance.

  “No, no, don’t!” Nikki cried. “I know that you’re angry enough to kill. I understand completely. My mother—she killed my grandmother and great-uncle—and to keep that crime hidden, she kept me locked up all my life. I know that when I realized how much she betrayed me, I wanted to kill her. Yes, I was angry. But I was more scared than anything. I was scared of being helpless. But destroying everything isn’t the answer.”

  “They blamed me and locked me up and left me there.”

  “And now you’re free and you can make your life anything you want. You can be with your sister. Share her shrine. Be a beloved goddess who protects her people. Wipe it away and you lose your sister, your father, Kenichi, all the people who had nothing to do with your punishment.”

  Iwanaga laughed bitterly. “Even if you were willing to sacrifice yourself, you would not last long enough for me to reach my sister’s shrine safely.”

  Nikki reached into her pocket and pulled out the jade bead shintai that Yamauchi had given her. “I have this. It will hold you.”

  Iwanaga gasped, delicate hands going to her mouth. “It’s perfect.” She shook her head. “But they’ll only tr
y to punish me again.”

  “By now, everyone knows that Susanoo took the spear. He and his sister can settle it out. You’re clearly an innocent bystander. You have nothing to fear.”

  Iwanaga continued to shake her head.

  “All will be good.” And Nikki knew that she had said true words. “I can promise you that. I have that power.”

  Iwanaga started to weep. For a moment, Nikki was afraid that she would have to fight the goddess, but then Iwanaga bowed low as tears streamed down her face. “Please take care of me.”

  40

  White Sands,

  Blue Skies

  Only when war broke out at the far end of the bridge did Nikki remember the tanuki that had driven the goddess. Someone had caught up with Sato and had been greeted with a hail of bullets. Who was it? Leo?

  She raced back toward the cars, fear jolting through her every step of the way. It was like she was running on air, the rocks hundreds of feet down, and the dead shrine maiden a constant reminder that the bridge didn’t support everything. The only reason she could keep moving forward was that the thought of staying on the bridge terrified her more.

  She arrived at the cliff’s edge a quivering, panting mess to see Leo break the neck of the last standing tanuki.

  “Leo!”

  Joy and relief flooded his face. Then horror washed in as he realized that he was surrounded with evidence of his deadly nature. He dropped his gaze and started to back away.

  “Help me.” She put out her hand to him.

  He looked at her in confusion, but came and took her hand. “What is it?”

  She gazed down at his warm strong fingers lightly holding hers. She didn’t want to ever let go. She leaned forward to rest her forehead against his chest. She was trembling so badly she felt like jelly. “I left the spear out on the bridge and I’m afraid of heights.”

  He breathed out a surprised laugh into her hair. “You are?”

  She nodded. “I don’t think I can go out alone again—but I’m not sure it’s safe for you.”

  He put an arm around her shoulders and she pressed close to him, listening to his heart beating. “If I can, I’ll get it for you.”

  She looked up and read his heart in his dark eyes. He loved her. He didn’t want to scare her. She reached up to press her hand to his rough cheek.

  His eyes widened in surprise and slowly, tentatively, he lowered his mouth to hers. It was a whisper of a kiss, murmuring the secrets of his heart. What was she laying bare to him? She tried not to think of other times with other men that went awkwardly and ended badly. What did it matter when this may be all they had? Life was as fleeting as cherry blossoms. One night, and then either one or both of them might be dead. She wanted to know him completely, hoard away every little detail so she would always have him, no matter what happened.

  They kissed until she was breathless and he tore reluctantly away.

  She couldn’t watch as he tested the edge of the bridge. She stood with her hands pressed over her eyes, whimpering in fear that he’d misjudge his step and fall. Only after she couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore did she realize that the spider-whore’s creepy black-eyed kids could be sulking about the cars, looking for revenge for their mother.

  She jerked her hands off her eyes and nervously scanned the area around her. Most of the dead tanuki looked like they’d been hit by a freight train. Leo was impressive when he was angry.

  Leo’s sports car sat behind Iwanaga’s sedan. The driver’s door was open, a chime announcing that the keys were still in the ignition. Atsumori’s katana rested in the passenger seat, along with her backpack. Nikki jerked open the door and snatched up the sword.

  “Nikki-chan.” Atsumori hugged her close. “I’m so glad we found you.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “Where else would Iwanaga Hime take the spear but to the floating bridge of heaven?”

  And of course, as a god, Atsumori had known where the bridge connected to Earth. Leo must have taken the katana from the stronghold’s storage so Atsumori could act as a guide.

  Leo came trotting back, carrying the spear. “Let’s get out of here.”

  It rained buckets as they drove toward Kyoto.

  “Susanoo is angry,” Atsumori said.

  “We’ll take the spear to his shrine.” Leo drove with the fingers of his left hand twined around hers, reluctantly letting go when he had to shift.

  “He’s not there,” Nikki said. “After the parade, they carry the mikoshi from the shrine to the center of town. He stays there until the end of the festival.”

  “Then we’ll go there.” He reclaimed her hand.

  She wasn’t sure of the wisdom of returning the spear to Susanoo when they reached the tiny storefront display area with the three mikoshi’s tucked behind a half-wall. They stood under the awning as an ocean of rain poured out of the sky.

  “Good, you brought it back.” Inari suddenly stood beside her, dressed in a beautiful yukata of cherry pink with delicate white blossoms. “Father will be happy.”

  “Atsumori, is this who it looks like?” Nikki asked.

  “Yes, this is Inari.”

  “Oh good.” She held out Iwanaga’s shintai. “Can you make sure she makes it to her sister’s shrine?”

  “Yes.” He took the jade bead and then the spear. “Thank you for putting things right.” He pointed up the street. “Go to the Kinmata.” Inari pointed up Shijo-dori toward the corner of Gokomachi. “Ask for a room and they will give it to you.”

  The hotel was a traditional ryokan with tatami rooms and futons. As Inari promised, the staff asked no questions, simply led them to a room, laid out futons, and gave them privacy.

  Nikki’s heart hammered in her chest. This was not like all the times with the other men. Leo knew all about her weirdness and even now her silly fears. This wasn’t some guy she’d met at a coffee shop or at a bar. He wasn’t her friend’s brother, either. This was Leo, who would risk his life to search for someone he loved—and he loved her. And there was no question in her mind that he would die to protect her.

  And yet she was trembling as she pressed against him. What was this fear? For once in her life, she was sure that the man she was with wouldn’t hurt her. Was it because she finally had something irreplaceable and she was scared that it would slip through her fingers and be gone? She clung to him tightly, shaking.

  He didn’t put his arms around her. His hands hung by his side, clenching. “You’re frightened of me.”

  “I’m frightened of losing you. You—you haven’t seen me at my worst. I can’t stop writing. If I don’t have paper and pen, I’ll use blood and—and—whatever I can to write with.”

  He breathed out and gathered her tight to him. “Whatever you need, I will give it to you.”

  “I need you.”

  He kissed her temple and whispered, “You already have my heart.”

  She fumbled with his shirt, trying to find a way to his skin. He moaned against her lips as her fingers found bare hard muscle. It got easier as they lost pieces of clothing, as if with each piece they shed away their fear.

  He leaned over her, and her heart tried to jump up her throat.

  “Wait.”

  He pulled back, concern on his face.

  “I—I don’t like being on pinned . . . on the bottom. It kind of freaks me out.”

  He sat back and wordlessly guided her onto his lap.

  “Oh yes, this is good.” She groaned as he kissed her throat. One last whisper of doubt remained, reminding her that she wasn’t on the pill. She wanted her own place, a trustworthy man and children, but not all at once.

  “Wait, I have protection.” She fumbled through her backpack, shaking with nervousness. How would he take her wanting to use a condom? Normally it was where her relationships unraveled, as most guys were dismayed to learn she wasn’t on the pill.

  He eyed the package of Kit Kat look-alike condoms, one eyebrow raised.

  “They were
on the pillow at the love hotel. I kept them so we’d have some—something.”

  He smiled hugely at her and tore it open with his teeth.

  Dawn came too soon, slipping quietly into the garden. The light woke her and made her shy as she realized that the dark no longer hid all her imperfections. She gathered the sheets tight around her. Leo lay beside her, beautiful in the fragile light, and unmistakably male.

  She sat watching Leo sleep, hoarding the moment. His breathing changed and he opened his eyes to look up at her. She yelped and pulled the sheets up higher.

  “I’ve never done this. Sleep with a guy.”

  He sat up. “You were a virgin?”

  “No. I’ve had sex, not that it was anywhere as good as last night.” She blushed and pulled the sheet up to her nose. “I mean I’ve never woken up with a guy. They always leave.”

  He reached out and touched her face. “They were fools.”

  Her mother’s death was in the news. Not the truth but a carefully fabricated story about a car accident on an isolated road. Nikki wasn’t sure how to deal with the news. She had, of course, known about it before it actually happened. It was somewhat ironic that if her mother had given Nikki freedom to write instead of so determinedly trying to keep her quiet, Nikki could have warned her.

  But how should she feel? Perhaps relieved, but that seemed somehow callous and wrong. She could not bring herself to feel anything. Not yet.

  Leo silently wrapped his arms around her and said nothing. He understood what a bitch her mother was, but Leo would hurt anyone who spoke badly of his father.

  Shiva had also doctored the news about the fight during the parade. According to CNN, there had been a freak storm that heralded the end of the festivities. The dead and wounded were blamed on lightning. Nothing was said about the samurai girl or the transforming tanuki. There would be no photo evidence of her. Whatever been filmed of the yokai had been carefully digitally sanitized. News footage only showed the crowds fleeing the lightning.