by Mur Lafferty
The goddess looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “I’d never considered swimming in clockwork. I expect it would be too pointy.”
Daniel waved his hand at her impatiently. “You know what I mean. When it comes to clockwork, you’re the master. I have a hard time believing that there’s water that a fish can conquer but the god of the sea can’t. What’s going on here?”
Ignoring Persi’s groans and growls momentarily, Daniel walked up to get a closer look at the green man, who glared at him. Daniel reached out with his left hand and nearly touched Ishmael’s necklace. He pulled his hand back quickly and growled deep in his throat. Kate took his arm and tugged on it.
“What’s up, Daniel?” she asked.
“He can’t swim because he’s wearing one of those necklaces. They’re controlling him.”
Ishmael snorted. “Preposterous. I have worn this my whole existence.”
“Uh huh,” Kate said. “And how many times have you gone swimming?”
Daniel hesitated to reach out again, and Kate realized he was remembering his time in the cage as a coyote. She reached past him and grabbed the necklace, whipping it over Ishmael’s head.
In the chaos that followed, Kate had trouble following the events. The first thing that happened was Ishmael seemed to explode in a torrent of water. Kate was blown backward into Daniel and they both hit the cave wall. She scrambled to her feet, wiping her sopping hair out of her face to see Ishmael disappear into the pool and dive deep.
Barris screamed as he frantically batted at his arms to sluice off the water that hit him. If he’d drowned, he’d automatically be afraid of the water, but the movements were crazed, his eyes wide.
Persi bellowed and lashed out a tentacle grabbing wildly. Kate ducked, not realizing that put Daniel in her reach. The tentacle wrapped around him and he shrieked, lifted high into the air.
“Gamma!” yelled Kate, running forward. Sadly, it turned out that the warrior goddess was gone. Kate blinked in confusion, realizing that something had to have called her. And the only thing that could have called her would have been Alicia needing her back on the Sheridan.
“Shit.” Kate said.
Burns was scrabbling with an idea, and as he opened it, Barris let out a howl. This one was not of panic or fear, but of insane longing. Oh, right; great idea to bring cocaine to a narcotics anonymous meeting, Kate thought as she watched Barris lunge for Burns.
“Chain the Queen; chain the Quee —” Burns managed to get out before the puny sun god tackled him, taking him down hard. Barris sat on the taller man, rifling through his clothes, grabbing at the ideas.
Fabrique ignored all of this and continued rummaging through her bag.
Kate figured the first thing to do would be to stop the rampaging leviathan. Burns seemed to have the right idea, but she had no chain. She looked around and then realized she still held the necklace she’d torn from Ishmael’s neck. She could feel it sapping her energy and would have liked to drop it, but instead she threw it at Persi, who was hammering Daniel against the roof of the cave as he swore loudly.
The necklace settled around one of Persi’s flailing tentacles, and the power-dampening effects were instantaneous. Instead of holding the shape-shifted form, she fell to the edge of the pool, a young girl swathed in seaweed, lying unconscious.
Daniel fell into an undignified heap and Kate rushed to his side. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, the blood streaming from a cut on his brow already slowing. “What the hell happened?”
“I think we’ll have to figure that out later. There’s still a lot of shit going on. You handle Persi; I’ll take care of Barris.”
Daniel looked at the unconscious girl, her wet dreadlocks covering her face. He sighed. “I think I can take her.”
Kate ran over to Barris and Burns. Barris had ripped Burns’s coat off and the discarded ideas lay around him like used crack vials. He was giggling as he took his final prize, the blue vial, and uncorked it.
“Don’t let him,” Burns croaked, doubled up in pain. Barris was smaller, but junkies could apparently pack quite a punch when jonesing. “We can still —”
He stopped when Barris upended the idea addiction antidote to his mouth. The sun god sucked greedily at the contents of the bottle and then his eyes went vacant. His pupils dilated and he toppled over, still staring at the cave ceiling.
“Kate’s wrinkled nipples,” Burns said, sitting up and holding his head. Kate cocked an eyebrow at him. He looked down. “Sorry. Habit.”
She shrugged. “No problem.” She helped the old man to his feet, her touch healing his injuries as he stood.
Daniel picked up Persi — she didn’t look older than fifteen — and placed her beside Barris. “I don’t think we should call this one a win, Kate,” he said. “Two gods lost, two out of commission.”
Kate shook her head. “I don’t understand what happened.”
“It’s obvious,” Fabrique said, assembling her brass doorway. “He had never experienced power before. He was a sea god feeling his true power for the first time. He became rather drunk on it.”
“And the kid?” Daniel asked, pointing at Persi.
“Her power was keeping her trapped in the leviathan form. The necklace stopped that.”
“Huh.”
“And Gamma was clearly called back to the Sheridan,” Fabrique added, snapping the final corner onto the doorway.
“Right, I figured that.” Kate went to the edge of the pool and looked in. She was splashed with water again as Ishmael leaped out, exultant.
“The power! The thrill!” he said, grinning broadly at them. “Have you felt such glory?”
“Yeah. Every day,” Daniel said flatly. “I’m guessing this is your first time?”
“I always knew what I was, but I never knew what it felt like! This is glorious! It’s amazing! It’s —”
“Divine?” Daniel asked.
“Exactly!” Ishmael finally looked around the cave. “What happened here?”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Fabrique, can that door thingy take us back to The Sheridan?”
The goddess fixed goggles over her eyes and grinned. “Anywhere.”
“Then we’d better see what’s going on up there.”
Daniel picked up Persi and Kate lifted Barris’s slight form over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Fabrique turned on the doorway and it shimmered. Kate saw the form of the Sheridan wavering in front of them, and Fabrique walked through confidently.
Kate gave a glance at Daniel, who shrugged. “Can’t be any weirder than anything else we’ve done today.”
She looked at the grinning sea god and Professor Burns, who was picking up his tattered coat and tutting at it.
“Come on, Ishmael. We’re going to take you somewhere where you can learn all about your divinity. You hold onto Daniel, and Burns, you hold onto me. We’re not sure how this thing works,” she said.
With that the six of them entered the portal. There was a worrisome twanging sound.
And then they emerged far from the deck of the Sheridan.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The moment the sun went down, Morrigan made her move. She flew, unnoticed, over Prosper’s bent head and landed lightly on the deck of the Sheridan. She opened the locked door to the captain’s quarters, delighted to realize that no door holds back death.
The great urn that held Sam was rocking slightly as he struggled within. She passed her hand over it and it shattered, dumping the big man onto the floor.
He spasmed once, twice, trying to stifle groans as his limbs cramped with their new freedom of movement. He smelled of urine and anxiety. The cramps passed and he looked up, finally, at the glowing, masked goddess who stood over him.
“I renounce Ishmael and all others,” he whispered. “You are my goddess, the only goddess. For all days.”
Morrigan smiled behind her mask, feeling her burn scars pull. “Very good. Let me tell you of your first task.”
He listened to her, his w
ide blue eyes reflecting her glow and his fanaticism. She gave him instructions and a long, wicked knife made of bone.
Morrigan decided that all of her priests would carry them.
Her instructions given, she turned back into the white crow and perched on Sam’s shoulder.
“Anything for my goddess,” he muttered, testing the edge of the blade with his thumb and sucking the blood from the fresh cut. “My life for her.”
Morrigan nodded to herself. That would come, too.
* * * * *
James paced below the deck, sick of taking care of his younger siblings who squabbled and shrieked as they played. He’d been chosen as the guide for a god, now he was a babysitter.
He kicked the door. His sister, Ursula, looked up at him. She was eight and saw the distance in their ages as a mere hurdle that separated otherwise equals. “What’s your problem, James?”
James cast a sullen eye at their siblings. Ursula’s twin, Samuel, and the toddler Kelly were swinging and laughing in a hammock. He thought about complaining but realized another argument might work better.
“I don’t know why I have to look after you guys when you’re just as good at watching Kelly as I am. And you definitely don’t need watching.”
He congratulated himself on being such a good negotiator, but he slumped in dismay as Ursula glared at him. “If I’m old enough to watch Kelly, I’m old enough to do whatever you’re doing. Let’s leave Samuel here to baby-sit; I’m coming with you.”
James muttered a curse he’d heard Sarah say once when their mother wasn’t listening. “If you go, Samuel will want to, as well.”
She snorted. “No, he just wants to play with Kelly. The more time he spends on deck, the more chances Mother has to find out he’s afraid of heights.”
James blinked. His brother hid this fear well. He sighed and nodded to Ursula; going out with her would be better than not going out at all. “OK, then; let’s go.”
“But where?” Ursula asked.
James shrugged. “Don’t know. Just anywhere that’s not here.”
They left Samuel and Kelly playing on the hammock and closed the door behind them. James held his finger to his lips, knowing his sister probably couldn’t see him in the dark hallway, but he crept up the ladder to the deck.
The kids weren’t usually allowed on the deck at night. If they were just docked, then sure, the family often spent time in the open air, but when on a mission the adults didn’t want to worry about the kids falling over the side in the dark.
Which was ridiculous, James reasoned. He’d grown up on the deck of an airship; why would someone think he’d be in danger at night?
* * * * *
The Sheridan’s deck was dark, with one lantern lit at the helm where Sarah and Alicia watched the ghostly flickering lights coming from the deeply submerged Leviathan City. Their backs were to him as Sam slipped out of the Captain’s quarters and onto the deck.
The goddess left his shoulder and flew to perch on a cable. She watched him with glossy eyes.
He gratefully breathed in air that did not smell of his own stench and stretched his still-stiff muscles. The moon whispered to him, telling him what he needed to find, what he needed to do, and he adjusted his grip on the wicked knife.
The two women were not his target. Nor was the sullen, divine presence lurking at the rear deck. He frowned. Below deck, then?
The door behind him opened, and he jumped to the side, crouching, hoping the dark would mask him. Two small shapes crept out quietly.
“Gosh, it’s dark!” one said.
“Well, sure,” said the other, “It’s nighttime, and they don’t need to light the whole deck.” The crow’s talons tightened on his shoulder. He winced as one of them penetrated his flesh and blood dotted his filthy shirt.
Understood, goddess, he thought.
He gripped the knife tighter and stepped forward carefully. The children still had not seen him. They stood huddled, discussing their disobedience and what they realized were now limited options in their newly acquired freedom. The smooth back of the boy’s neck seemed specifically lit by the holy light of the moon, and Sam took that as a specific target. He raised his knife.
* * * * *
Prosper had filled his pot with foul-smelling moss mainly to annoy the other gods who conscripted him into this service, but also for its soporific qualities. Once it reached maturity — normally taking three or four years, but with his influence only minutes — the gas it emitted would serve as a drug to the humans. He could take the ship easily once they were asleep.
He knew he could easily win any fights with mere humans, but he’d seen that bitch Gamma, that lapdog, give the captain a knife with which to call her. He didn’t know how fast she could get to that before he took her down. He wouldn’t be able to fight the other gods.
Prosper watched the deck, listening in on Alicia and Sarah’s pointless conversation, vaguely aware of the children’s movement below deck. When the man Sam came out of the Captain’s quarters, he finally sat up, interested. This was new.
When the children came onto deck, and Sam raised his knife at them, that’s when Prosper decided it would get really interesting. Perhaps the death of the boy would convince Alicia to take him back to Meridian, where he could return to his temple and figure out what to do next; where he should sow himself to create more children.
Sadly, the takeover of the ship wouldn’t be that easy. The man made the mistake of shouting something unintelligible as he stepped forward, and the girl screamed, pulling her brother away. The knife whiffed through the air and Sam swore.
The children scrambled away, screaming for their mother, but in their panic moving instead toward Prosper. He concentrated on the pot of moss, and as the children neared, taking in great, panicked breaths, they slowed and looked around, confused. Prosper sent some tendrils of vines from his body — so difficult to do now, without the proper seeding — and wrapped them around the children’s waists to keep them in place. They struggled briefly, crying out again, but the gas from the moss continued to sap their energy, and they slumped at last.
The gas, unfortunately, affected the would-be assassin, who ran after the children and into the dangerous circle of Prosper’s power. Prosper thrust the children away from the gas and toward Sam, who recoiled as he realized what was happening.
“Do it,” Prosper said. “Kill them.”
Sam blinked and shook his head, but as he saw the unconscious boy hanging in front of him as an offering, he raised his knife again.
Before he could lower it to sever the boy’s spinal cord, though, a loud BOOM sounded behind him and he was driven forward into James. He tumbled over the boy and rolled until he slammed into Prosper.
A frozen chicken skidded across the deck and over the side. Sarah stood beyond Prosper’s gaseous cloud, her face set in concentration, now aiming the gun directly at Prosper’s chest.
A little behind her, Alicia was removing the knife from her boot.
I should have interfered earlier, Prosper thought, and slowly got to his feet, drawing the children closer to him.
* * * * *
Gamma didn’t like leaving the cave with the others; she knew she’d be needed soon. But she had been bound to Alicia’s knife, and so when called, she was forced to go.
At least it may be something interesting, better than this diplomacy ridiculousness, she thought. How she had itched to snap the necks of each of those bigoted guards, worshippers or not. They held gods captive, and therefore Gamma didn’t think much of them.
She poured from the knife and expected to see Sam there,: broken out, maybe harassing the captain. She’d slice him in half and be done with it, able to return to Leviathan City to help the others.
She was bemused to see a very different scene before her.
Sam writhed slowly at Prosper’s feet, clutching his lower back. He took a deep, shuddering breath and passed out. Sarah, the warrior, was aiming her chicken gun at Prosper,
who held two unconscious children in his tendrils. Alicia looked on with panic, arming herself with the knife she’d used to call Gamma.
“Don’t be stupid,” Gamma said. “You can’t fight a god. I, however, can.”
She felt the tension from weeks of using diplomacy instead of force snap inside her, and she grinned wildly and launched herself at the harvest god, whose golden eyes widened at her assault.
* * * * *
Alicia sheathed the knife and ran forward, sliding it into Sarah’s boot. “Watch that man; stay out of the gods’ way,” she said. “I’m going in for the children.”
The gas surrounding Prosper looked like silver fog in the moonlight, and Sarah put a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Wait. You can’t breathe that stuff. Can you smell it?”
Alicia took a breath and could taste the sickly sweetness on the air, a smell that enticed her to move forward and investigate its source. It tickled her brain and suggested that lying down for a quick nap really was the best idea of the evening.
She let Sarah pull her a few steps back, the gun still trained on Sam. But he wasn’t moving; either Sarah had done enough damage to his back, possibly broken it, or the gas had put him down. Regardless, it didn’t look as if he was a threat anymore.
But Prosper definitely was a threat. As Gamma charged forward for him, legs pumping like pistons, he lifted the children and held them over the side of the ship. Alicia screamed and ran forward, bumping into Sarah and causing her to discharge the chicken gun. Sarah’s frozen chicken hit Prosper in the chest, so he didn’t so much as drop the children as get pushed over the side with them just as Gamma reached him. Her momentum carried her over with him, and the four were gone, the children’s screams cutting through the night.
Alicia reached the railing and screamed incomprehensibly after them, sobbing and retching. After a moment, she had inhaled enough of the gas that she slumped over, asleep.