The Tree

by Na'amen Gobert Tilahun

  DoNotHaveItNowButHereWeAre.

  They all straightened at that, the rebuke clear in the contempt on Lil’s face. They had all had a shock, but there was no time to sink into it. If she said to gather at Kandake then there was probably something there to save them. She had to focus on that. There was some way to save them, if not their world.

  TheDarknessEatsAtTheWholeOfOurWorld

  AndItCannotTakeMuchMoreBeforeItCrumbles.

  “Then how will being in Kandake save us at all?” Hlani asked in the same defeated tone.

  IDoNotKnowButTheSpiritPromisedAWay

  AndBetterToHopeThanToGiveInToDespair.

  Kima looked at Uchel, any lies seeming useless now. Uchel met her gaze and for the first time she looked truly old to Kima. She had always been old physically, but inside she had the fire of a young revolutionary. Uchel took risks and led them with courage, and now Kima could read that she was lost. She couldn’t be. Uchel was not allowed to be lost. That was one of the costs of leadership. She had to lead regardless, and Kima saw Uchel read the expectation in Kima’s expression and shake her silence off as they looked to her.

  “Assan and Kima. You will go to spread the word. Your weapons will be dangerous to all of us in an enclosed space like Kandake, so of less use.”

  Kima looked over at one of the Antes guiltily. It was no longer bleeding from the leg, but she was fairly sure it had been her ricochet that had caught it.

  “You will tell all of our contacts within Zebub, and have them spread the word to all that they can. Then you will send messages to all of our contacts in other cities.” Uchel paused and looked over at Lil. “Will the other Athenaeums protect them?”

  Lil looked unsure, but eventually her branch spelled out:

  TheyWillDoTheirBest

  Uchel nodded. “It is their best hope.” Lil’s branch floated betwixt them.

  TellThemThatWhenTheyArriveAtKandakeToStay

  InTheFirstFloorLobbyMayerIsNotThereSoAll

  OtherLevelsWillBeDangerous.

  “Will you not be there when we arrive?” Kima asked suspiciously.

  IWillBeThereButInNoConditionToHelp

  IWillBeInTheDepthsOfTheAthenaeum

  ClaimingItsHeart.

  There was no response to that except to nod. Kima and Assan looked at one another. With a deep breath, they took off toward the depths of the city, ready to convince everyone they had ever known that the world and everything in it was going to come apart.

  MARIAN

  Hilarie had not left her office for four days. As a consequence, neither had Marian. Some of her memories had wandered back into place but there were still many holes in her mind. She still did not remember the boy’s name and the shame that rose in her every time she thought of his lost face was deep and cutting.

  The raid on the location had not been a total success. They had lost a number of Agents but they had been able to free most of the people trapped in the facility. They killed those they had to leave behind. She had heard Hilarie give the order over the phone. She had heard the steel in her voice. Marian had watched her put the receiver down with shaking hands and bury her face in her hands for twenty minutes before she’d lifted it once again, to go back to work.

  The phone rang, and Hilarie looked up from her work and Marian from her book. She was getting used to hearing only one side of the conversation.

  “Speak.”

  Hilarie cocked her head to the side.

  “Have you managed to capture any?” She asked.

  She signed at the answer. NO, her sigh said.

  “Kill any?”

  That sigh again. NO, again.

  “How many of our own have we lost?” This time Hilarie stayed silent but her lips tightened and her face went pale.

  TOO MANY, in the paleness of her face.

  “Okay, regroup. I want no one in teams of less than ten. Do you understand?”

  She must be talking to one of the Agents who took the lead hunting down the Antes who had escaped from the warehouse. They had managed to kill a few there by working in concert. No Antes had been captured for questioning and they were stretched thin. Guarding all known portals from Anoan was taking up enough of their agents without those patrolling the streets.

  One of the bodyguards, his motley in yellow and green today and his mask one of white studded with citrine, stepped forward and turned on the television. Marian saw Hilarie turn to snap at him, but stopped, considering. She looked at the television and her mouth dropped open. Marian followed her gaze and felt her own eyes bulging. Live on the television and muted was an Ante big as life. One there was no way to explain away as a human in a costume.

  It was perched on the apex of a building’s roof, two legs on each side clamped down. The legs looked human except that they ended in golden hooves. The upper thighs were furred with white and gold fur that, thank goodness, also covered the crotch. The stomach was human enough except for the three vertical slits that gaped open, showing small teeth, clenching and gnawing on empty air. Its shoulders were broad and furred in gold. Its arms were human enough, except that they were not physically attached to the body. They floated at the Ante’s side, dripping blood and raw meat in the gap that separated them from the shoulders. The head was unattached as well and also dripping, but the head also had four faces that kept rotating so a different one was facing front.

  Man. Goat. Serpent. Lion.

  “What the hell type of Ante is that?” Marian whispered.

  “A type we’ve never seen before. A type they’ve never let over. Now it’s here and big as life.” Hilarie shouted, already picking up the phone and dialing.

  The shot pulled back so they could see more of the location. It was on the steeple of a church and as she watched, the head spun once again so the lion face was front and center. It opened its mouth and let out a roar.

  Hilarie was shouting into the phone but Marian could not look away. Then, as she watched, something flared behind the bloody gaps of the creature’s shoulders and she saw them: great big white and gold wings.

  “Oh, hell no,” she whispered.

  She looked back at Hilarie, who had hung up the phone and was now turning toward the glowing crystal that was calling for her attention.

  “Hilarie. They’re going to use religion.”

  On the screen, a priest was leading a few people toward the church instead of away.

  “The hell they are,” Hilarie whispered.

  Hilarie slammed her hands down on the crystal that had been glowing brightly.

  “Yes, I see it, sir. I am currently trying to deal with it. When might we expect backup?”

  Hilarie frowned. Backup wasn’t coming anytime soon, Marion guessed.

  “Understood.” She took her hands off the crystal and the glow stopped and from the way Hilarie looked at it Marian could see she wanted to hurl it across the room.

  She looked up and met Marian’s gaze, giving her a grimace.

  “All major cities are preparing for their own potential invasion. There are no Agents to spare right now but they still expect me to do something about that.” She flapped her hand at the television without looking at the picture still splashed across the screen.

  “I’ll go,” Marian said. The raven wisdom rising up in her again. This was why she had stayed behind and healed longer. They were stretched too thin to send anyone else.

  “Don’t be a fool. You can’t even stand for long periods yet.”

  She knew that Hilarie did not mean it the way it sounded but still she flinched. It hardened her spine, her resolve.

  “What is our other choice? You pull someone off an important duty? Send in a green recruit to die? I may not have all my faculties back yet but I know how to be an Agent.”

  “Still doesn’t get around the whole walking thing,” Hilarie said, but Marian could see her faltering.

  “Well I wasn’t planning on going in this form,” Marian offered.

  Hilarie’s voice went high in surprise. �
��Are you kidding me? After what happened the last time you split into the murder?”

  “Yes. It did not go well last time,” Marian acknowledged. “But that was at night and an emergency. Right now, it’s daylight, and we can plan. All I need is some of our big artillery. I break apart, reform behind that thing, take the shot, break apart again and fly back here.”

  “You know it’s not going to be that simple. It’s never that simple.” Hilarie was sitting back in her chair, and Marian knew she needed to convince Hilarie of this.

  One of the jesters behind her, the same one who had turned on the television, was gesturing behind her back, pointing first at themselves and then at their partner in motley. She looked over to the other one; their colors today were orange and sky blue, their mask a shiny silver one in the shape of an older man’s face, with a large beard. They nodded their head.

  “Then send two of your bodyguards with me. Surely you can spare two of four as you sit here in your protected building?” Marian asked.

  Hilarie scowled then nodded slowly. “Fine. If you’re sure.”

  Marian nodded and gestured for one of the jesters to proceed her, pushing her chair out of the room before Hilarie changed her mind. The other joined them as they exited.

  “Let’s head to the armory and see what’s left.”

  As she had assumed, many of the weapons that had been specially designed to take out Antes were out on loan to various hunting parties. There were always at least a couple specials kept back just in case.

  Of the smaller, easier to conceal and carry options, there were two handguns. One of them she recognized fired a bullet loaded with acid that could eat away at even the toughest Ante but also anything else in the way. She thought of the crowds around the church and picked the other one.

  “What does this one do?” She asked.

  The quartermaster was a young man with beautiful dark eyes and pale brown skin who said to call him Van. He answered, “It works on beings that have spent a large amount of time in other dimensions. Every world moves at a different vibration, and the longer you’ve been in another dimension, the longer it takes for your body to adjust to a new frequency. This gun takes advantage of that difference in vibration and moves their body a half step out of phase with our world but in a different direction.”

  Marian looked at him blankly and gestured for him to go on.

  “Basically, it turns them to stone.” He shortened.

  “Why wouldn’t it just move them to the dimension of that particular frequency?” Marian asked.

  “It would if there were a dimension on that frequency.” He smiled at her. “Best of all, it has very little collateral damage; it won’t do anything to anyone whose body is vibrating at our world’s frequency, because it can’t detect or change anything.”

  The jester signed at Van and the man smiled and nodded in return.

  “You understood that?”

  Van looked at her oddly. “Yes, it’s only standard ASL. I know and speak most languages.” He bent below the counter and came back with a small round bit of metal in his hands.

  “What’s that?” Marian asked.

  “What they asked for: an EMP. It’ll take out any cell phones, cameras, anything electronic in the area.”

  Marian looked at the jester and nodded.

  “I’ll fly in. You follow and hit everyone with the EMP. Also, a distraction would not go amiss. We don’t need any more eyewitnesses.”

  They nodded and she pushed her chair into the elevator that took her to the roof.

  Marian sat there in the afternoon sun, and sank into the awareness of her body. To her surprise the splitting was less painful than she remembered. The gaps where her body was still not whole made it easier to break apart. The ravens rose from the roof, not all of them the same size any longer. Now there were smaller ravens among them, the pieces of her growing back.

  The flight itself was not difficult. They kept focused on the goal and allowed instinct to guide them. Thanks to the daylight they spotted predators and other potential dangers far ahead and avoided any losses.

  The murder of ravens approached the church. The Ante had not moved from its perch at all. Not even to acknowledge the dozen people that were crouched behind the police barrier on their knees praying toward it.

  They wheeled through the sky and circled twice before the whole murder landed on the steeple behind the Ante. The serpent visage was facing the flock but it did not react. She waited for the distraction that the jesters were supposed to provide, and watched the head continue to rotate. There was a high-pitched whine followed by a muffled whump and then many voices raised in dismay. The EMP. Then there was the sound of an explosion very close by, and the grumblings of frustration turned to screams of fear. A sure sign they were distracted.

  Marian brought her body back together slowly, making sure it came together balanced on the roof. She raised the gun and took aim. The shot was loud and the head spun around, the lion facing her and roaring and catching the blast directly in its mouth. She saw the transition happen, all movement stopping and the color leaching from its skin.

  The head and arms fell with loud thumps to the ground below. Whatever had been holding them in connection with the body obviously gone now. The jesters were there suddenly, holding a bag between them that they quickly pulled over the statue on the steeple. It disappeared and the bag shrunk so one of them could hold it in one hand. They bowed in her direction and then they were gone. Marian knew she was a kick-ass Agent. She smirked. Lester would have been proud, she thought, as she broke apart into the murder again and started the journey back.

  ROBERT

  Robert woke up in an odd infirmary. At least he assumed that’s what it was, with the rows upon rows of white beds, all of which were occupied by people with bandages on their wrists and mouths. He tried to lift his arm to look at it, and the weakness of his muscles confused him. He floated in a fog, trying to recall what happened.

  He remembered leaving San Francisco and making the decision to talk to his parents about the secrets they had kept from him all his life.

  It had not been hard to make the decision to go home, but once he had arrived on the East Coast he had wandered a bit. He kept his cell phone charged and with him, but answered none of the calls. It was more for comfort; the knowledge that he could talk to someone if he wanted. It reminded him of the real world; that everything wasn’t powers and monsters all the time. He’d landed in New York and taken time to tour the city of his youth and take in the former sites of places he remembered fondly that had since been torn down to make way for coffeehouses that served drinks in mason jars.

  Robert had moved through the city of his memories balanced on the edge of joy and sadness. He tried his best not to think about Erik or Dayida and what they must think of him. It didn’t work, but he still tried. Could they truly think any worse of him than they already did? He had been a horrible husband and father and could no longer pretend it had been for anyone’s benefit but his own.

  By the time he made it to his old neighborhood, he was almost ready for the confrontation he knew was coming. His parents were still in the same small apartment that he had been raised in alongside his two brothers. He did not know where Nicholas and Alexander had been for the last fifteen years. Robert had never felt like part of his family. He didn’t remember the exact moment when he’d realized he was different, but he had been young, and he’d never been able to shake the feeling that they all knew something that was barred to him. That they were in touch with each other on a level that he never could reach.

  It was that feeling that fostered the longing and resentment in him, and helped him decide to leave his family as soon as he turned eighteen.

  He let out a bitter laugh as he thought of the parallels. Leaving his family without a word when he was eighteen, and leaving his family without a word when he was thirty-eight. It was a horrible symmetry. Robert opened the front door to his parent’s building with the same j
iggle and hip slam he’d done when he’d forgotten his keys as a child. Twenty years had passed since he’d been here and no one had fixed it; an appropriate metaphor for their family.

  He took the flight of stairs, deliberately not looking to see if the carvings that he and his brothers had done in the elevator were still there. He was already filled with nostalgia. Any more and he was frightened it would be too much and he’d spontaneously burst into song like some weird musical. He climbed two additional flights and arrived at apartment 323; the second three on the door was still crooked. He knocked and listened for voices beyond the door.

  Robert braced for his father or mother to answer, so the face of his older brother was a shock to the system. Alexander had grown older. His thick black hair was now laced with gray. He had facial hair; a full mustache and beard. When Robert had left his facial hair had been scruffy and barely visible.

  “Romanos?” His brother’s expression was odd, as if moving back and forth between annoyance and excitement. It had been a long time since anyone had called him by his birth name. Finally, his brother reached out to pull Robert in for a hug. Robert went stiff but eventually folded his arms over his brother’s back, patting Alex’s shoulders just to make it end.

  “Alex, what are you doing here?” He finally pushed the words out.

  His brother pulled back and looked him the face before laughter with a bitter edge burst out of him. “Family dinner,” Alex answered when he stopped.

  “Ah,” Robert replied.

  Alex took him by the hand and led him into the dining room, just as their mother’s voice called out, asking who it was. When Alex pulled him through the door Robert’s eyes immediately found her, sitting at the head of the table, spoon half-raised to bring soup to her lips. She saw him and dropped the spoon, rising from the table. Robert could see the tears gathering in her eyes and he felt his own breath stuttering, though he tried to force it still.

  “Romanos, my child.” She was around the table in a flash, his face in her hands as she kissed him on both cheeks. Then she pulled back and slapped him across the face. “That is for never contacting us. The only way I know of my grandchild is on the internet. Whatever problem you had with us, that was not right.”