by R. E. Vance
They didn’t move like creatures having fun. They ran like creatures afraid.
Very, very afraid.
But why the hell were they leaving? We were having a party?
As if to answer my question, a deep raspy voice said, “Don’t bother. No force on this earth can free that sorry excuse of a god. Not—unless—I will it.” All three of us looked down the road at an Other walking down its center and towards us.
The being was unlike any Other I’ve seen before. The creature was taller than a city bus. To say it was male or female was to attribute genitalia to it. There were none. It walked on two legs, its gait more like an insect crawl than a humanoid stride. It wore no clothes I could see, skin made of shiny dark green armor much like a beetle’s exoskeleton. It had two scorpion-like tails, both of which curved upwards and ended with spikes that hung in the air over its shoulders. It approached and with each step, a thin layer of sand followed it, muting colors with each step—and as it approached closer, the world slowly became sepia. When it was about twenty feet away it grinned, revealing a row of serrated teeth.
No wonder all the Others ran. This guy was terrifying.
“Oh great,” Penemue sighed, getting to his feet. “A nasnas.”
“Worse,” Dionysus groaned. “It’s Tamter.”
↔
“Dionysus,” each syllable skittered out from its coarse, dry lips. “You should have left when you had the chance.”
“What? And miss all the fun?” Dionysus said, pushing at the pole.
“I knew it was you, Child of the Titan-slayer,” the creature said, “This distasteful drunkenness that clouds my mind … I have felt it only once before. When you poisoned me!”
“That was over fifteen thousand years ago,” Dionysus said.
“Oh—so this is some ancient grudge,” I lifted my arms out to help with my balance. “Look here Mr. … Or is it Mrs.? Ms.? Miss? Dr.? There are waaay too many pronouns in the human language—“
“I am the great Tamter,” it slithered.
“Oh … OK. So Mister Miss Great Tamter, let me see if I got this right … You’re using up a lot of magic just to hold this guy down? Why don’t you save yourself a lot of time, let him go and we could talk about this like grown …” I eyed the creature. “What are you, again?”
Both Penemue and Dionysus groaned in unison, “A nasnas.”
“What’s a nasnas?” I asked.
“Half-scorpion, half human, all asshole,” Dionysus offered. “They were once the godlets of the Sahara Desert. Until we cleaned them out, that is.”
Tamter’s hard, fleshless lips clicked in annoyance.
“You’re not helping,” I whispered to Dionysus.
Tamter snapped, “You tricked me—poisoned my drink with your ambrosia. I lost focus and with my judgment clouded, I made a fatal error when negotiating with the dishonorable Zeus. That misstep allowed your father to take the great Siwa Oasis from us and claim it as part of his territory. Without our sanctuary, our religion, our traditions and our culture slowly faded into obscurity. But the greatest insult of all was that error allowed the spread of Hellenism in our once great desert—“
“Oh come on! Don’t tell me this is an East, West thing,” I cried out. “I thought that crap ended when the gods left.”
Penemue looked over at me, “East, West thing? What do you think is happening here? A scene from West Side Story?”
“Nah man!” I slurred. “You know, an ideology thing. Clash of Civilizations—East vs. West. That kind of beef.” I puffed out my chest and raised both arms in a waaay too gangsta manner. I may be many things, but gangsta I am not.
Penemue gave me a look that clearly told me what he thought of my idea. “Have you ever looked at a map?” he said, “Greece is farther east than most of the Sahara.”
Dionysus nodded, “The angel is correct. You humans always overcomplicate everything. This is not an ideological conflict. It is a personality problem. I’m wonderful and Tamter is not.”
Tamter snorted. “Hah—this … god lacks honor. Back before there were borders, before there were nations, I sat before the great and mighty Zeus negotiating my people’s role in the world to be,” he said with insectile ticks that were—despite being very inhuman—incredibly sarcastic. “We sat in the Great Hall, and I was whittling down the tiresome god, ensuring the nasnas legacy, when suddenly I started to feel like … like this. Drunk, incoherent and over-confident.”
“Oh, you were such a bore. I needed to loosen you up.”
“Your betrayal forced my kind underground.”
“And a good thing for it,” Dionysus said looking at me, “His kind likes to eat babies. And not just human ones. Chicks, calves and even cute little puppies. Imagine a world where these things weren’t sub-terrestrial?”
Penemue nodded in agreement.
“You insolent worthless god!” Tamter growled, “Once I might have feared you. Feared your unlimited power. Feared your brothers and sisters. But now …” lightning leapt between the palms of his hands, “Now you bleed just like everyone else.”
Tamter stepped forward as more energy filled its hands. “When I felt like this, I knew the rumors were true … that you hadn’t left. I sought you out, wishing to ask so many questions, learn so many secrets, but now that I see you lying helpless in the dirt … I just don’t care, anymore. It will be satisfaction enough to squash you like the slithering snake that you are.” Just as it was about to release the lightning, I threw myself against Tamter’s body. The bolt of energy shot from its hands and onto a car near where Dionysus laid.
And to think—when I wrote my To-Do list this morning, I was so focused on getting my hotel up and running that I totally forgot to write down the most important thing I needed to do: Survive.
Hellelujah!
↔
Tamter shot another blast of energy, this time at me. It would have fried my skull had not Penemue jumped on me and taken the blast on the back of his wings. He flinched in pain, as smoldering feather ignited up in little balls of yellow and deep orange crackles. He grabbed me and the two of us tumbled behind the same a car that Tamter had just blasted.
“I thought I was lightning proof,” he grimaced as he patted out some amber on his wings, “Guess not.”
“Why would you think you’re lightning proof?” I cried out. “How can anyone be lightning proof? I mean—lightning. Lightning!”
“Angels spend a lot of time in the sky—occasionally stormy weather. Angel wings, much like rubber, absorb energy. But judging by how much that hurt, our nasnas friend is adding a something a little extra into it.”
“Oh,” I whispered. I ripped off the car’s side mirror and used it to see what Tamter was doing. He held his hands about a foot apart, evidently gathering energy for his next attack. “We got to get Dionysus out of here.”
Penemue rolled his eyes and said, “Why? He’s trying to kill us all. If scorpion-breath over there ends him first, then apocalypse over—right?”
“No,” Dionysus and I said in unison.
“I thought he was your friend?” I said.
“Friends who let friends destroy a city aren’t friends at all.” Penemue turned to the trapped god and said, “I’m sorry old friend, but the world isn’t meant to end. Not like this.”
“Hey … we can’t let … him get killed … It’s … it’s … wrong,” I hiccuped.
“Indeed,” Dionysus said, “I like this human. Besides, you have to save me,” Dionysus grunted. “I die, but the party goes on. After all, I am the creator of revelry—and it’s not a party unless someone gets killed.”
“Excuse me?” I asked.
Penemue groaned. “He’s saying that killing him will only ensure that the party goes on. I guess we’re going to have to fight the nasnas. I hate nasnas.” Penemue took the mirror from me. “We will have to make our move soon. The nasnas is gathering its energy and it is only a matter of time until it metaphorically reloads itself.”
&nb
sp; “I got an idea,” I said. “You draw its fire and buy me a minute.” Penemue lifted his fists in an 1800’s boxer’s defense and stood up. “Hey wait! Don’t you want to hear the plan first?” I said.
Penemue looked down at me and said, “Oh yeah, that would be—“ a blast of energy hit him in the shoulder. Penemue shook it off and with a cry that was more of a shriek than an intimidating fighter’s roar, leapt over the car and jumped the nasnas. I couldn’t see what was happening, but I heard a lot of ‘awfs’, ‘pows’ and ‘yelps’ as the two drunk Others engaged in fisticuffs.
I pulled out my mobile phone and called the police—a number I sadly had on speed dial. “What, pray tell, are you doing?” Dionysus asked.
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m calling for help.”
Dionysus rolled his eyes, “The police will not be of any help. Like I told you—this party is a secret.”
“We’ll see,” I said as the phone rang.
A familiar voice answered—or rather, bellowed. “Paradise Lot Police Station.”
I didn’t expect the archangel Michael turned Police Chief to answer. Normally that was Medusa’s job but she was … oh, yeah … occupied. And given that everyone on duty was drunk, including Michael, I guess it made sense that certain protocols weren’t being followed. “Michael,” I screamed, “I need your help.”
“What? Who … Jean-Luc?” he slurred in baritone. “What have you done now?”
“Me? Me!” I shouted as another lightning bolt shattered the storefront window in front of me. “I haven’t done anything. I’m calling for help.”
“What is happening?”
“D… D…” I tried to say the god’s name, but couldn’t. “There’s a … a …” I tried to tell him about the party, the fight, but nothing came out. “I just need you to come down here and help!” I screamed.
“First of all—where is here? Secondly—no! I’m not helping you until you tell me what’s going on!”
“But you’re the police. I need you to—“
“I am not moving until you confess.” He spoke with a childish stubbornness that was uncharacteristic of his usual, act first, ask questions later, attitude. What the hell was going on? Then it hit me. What was the last thing you wanted to happen at the biggest, baddest party the world had ever seen? The police coming and breaking it up. Whatever magic Dionysus burned to keep me from telling Michael he was here, also kept Michael, and all police from coming to the party. “Confess!” Michael bellowed.
Dionysus chuckled.
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m just calling to say hi.” Another lightning bolt shot through the store window, hitting the back display and sending arcs of crackling blue electricity along the wall.
“What?” Michael said in near rage. “A prank call! That is a ticketable offense, young human! Expect the citation to come through the mail in—“
“Yeah, yeah” I said hanging up.
↔
“I told you it was a secret,” Dionysus said, still trying to get out from under the lamp post.
“You did,” I admitted. I stood up and saw Penemue and Tamter going at it. Well, actually, the angel had taken my plan of distracting the creature quite literally, dancing around him, dodging every attack without actually engaging himself. And Tamter, drunk as it was, obliged by wildly swinging at the angel. I sighed, “OK, then—plan B.”
I jumped forward hitting the nasnas with my shoulder, forcing it to stagger back. “Insolent human,” it clicked, swinging at me with its left hand. It was fast, and would have connected had Penemue not intercepted it with his own arm and then punched it flat in the face with his taloned fist.
“Remember what I told EightBall about fighting a nasnas,” Penemue said, flipping round, delivering a kidney shot with the tip of his wing.
“Remember what? I wasn’t there? Medusa showed up,” I got behind Tamter and kicked it in the back of the knee. “Anyway, does it matter? The two of us should be able to take this thing down, no problem.”
Penemue dodged one of the scorpion tails lashes. “I really wish you had been there to hear the story. You see the nasnas can—“ But before he could finish, Tamter jumped back putting fifty feet between us. Then it started to split in two—as in right down the middle. It looked like someone found a very well hidden zipper and pulled, dividing the creature into two. “Do that… Crap.”
“I’m not just seeing two because I’m drunk, right?”
“I fear not,” Penemue said. “You take the left. I’ll take the right.”
“Sure,” I slurred and stepped forward to fight half a body.
↔
Have you ever watched Drunken Master? The one with a young Jackie Chan? In it, Jackie Chan was a martial arts master who moved with the fluidity of a leopard and the abandonment of someone really, really wasted. That was how Penemue fought: each punch, every kick was deceptively uncoordinated, only to connect in the exact place that he intended. And it wasn’t just taloned hands and feet that laid waste on the nasnas, he also used the tips of his wings as two extra fists.
Penemue was a sight to behold. A true drunken master.
I, on the other hand, was just drunk.
I jumped onto the tall body with its one arm, one leg and one tail, and fought with all the grace of a toddler wrestling his teddy bear. If, that is, his bear was twice his size and incredibly agile. The nasnas countered each of my attacks, using its tail as a second arm. He might have been half a body, but he was twice the fighter I could ever hope to be. Maybe if I was sober, I would have had a chance. After all, I’d been fighting Others most of my adult life. But drunk … I simply did not have the coordination to pull off the techniques I had learned during hour after sober hour of training. My arms felt weak and the world spun far too quickly for me to think straight. He deflected punch after punch, wearing half an arrogant smile as he did. Tamter might have been drunk, too, but it carried it’s divinely inspired liquor far better than me.
As we fought and I managed to look over at Penemue. He was winning. At least one of us was … Without warning the nasnas pushed me against the car and before I could counter, its scorpion tail pierced my chest.
Fire coursed through my body as the poison made its way through my system. I doubled over clutching at the wound as it ignited every part of me. I fell to my knees. Tamter looked at me with satisfaction and turned to help its other half.
I collapsed on the ground and from the vantage point of lying down on the pavement, I watched as two half bodies fought one angel, delivering more blows than they were receiving. Penemue was good at fighting half a body, but two halves were more than he could handle.
I pulled myself up, the pain subsiding from a searing, fire-hot flame to the considerably less painful, but wholly more fatal suffocation. My muscles were filling with lactic acid as they slowly fell into anabolic shock. Whatever Tamter stung me with was slowly draining the oxygen out of my blood and I was suffocating from the inside out. Oh joy!
Still, whatever it injected me with, it countered Dionysus’s spell. Or maybe it was the pain. Either way, I was considerably less drunk. The nasnas’s poison was better than coffee—hell, it was better than coffee drunk in a cold shower after a good night’s sleep. I was thinking clearly, seeing straight. I still couldn’t move very well and my muscles felt like they were filling up with lead, but at least my brain worked.
I staggered over to side of car and just as I hoped, saw it was illegally parked right next to a fire hydrant. Say what you will about Others, the one stereotype I’ve always known to be true was that they did not obey traffic laws. Ever. “Hey!” I cried out, dragging myself on the hood of the car. “Mister Miss Doctor Sir Half-Wit— no wonder Zeus kicked you out of the oasis … I’m still alive. Guess you’re a ‘job-half-done’ kind-of monster!”
“Insolent mortal!” Its right half cried out and, just as I hoped, shot out an arc of lightning at me. The bolt struck the car I was on, its rubber tire melting as it absorbed the elec
tricity. And just like the shot of electricity he used on the store, little arcs of electricity bounced around until one of them hit the fire hydrant right behind the car.
It broke.
“Still here!” I cried out, searing pain shooting through me. “Job not done at all.”
Tamter growled and shot another bolt just as a geyser of water shot up into the air. I don’t know much about electricity and water, but I do know that the two don’t mix. The shock reverberated and threw the nasnas into the building across the street.
The left part of Tamter looked over its now unconscious right, then back at Penemue and realized that fifty percent of it was not enough to win.
Half of Tamter hopped away in fear.
Hellelujah! We won, was my last coherent thought as I fell to the ground. Blessed, pain-free darkness took me away.
Chapter 6
The Mother of All Parties
I woke to see Dionysus leaning over my chest, a straw sticking out of the hole Tamter had made. Dionysus was—far too literally for comfort—sucking the poison out of my chest. “Ow,” I said.
The god looked up from the straw and smiled, “Mortal—you’re awake!”
“I am,” I said, trying to sit up. My chest still burned with the holy blue flames of Tartarus, but at least my body wasn’t stiff anymore. I moved my arms.
“What … what happened?”
Penemue put a hand on my shoulder, “It seems your little trick worked.”
“Indeed,” Dionysus clapped. “You caused the vile thing to lose concentration, which freed me. Then it ran.” He snapped his fingers and pointed across the street where half a nasnas body was tied to a store front grating, “At least half of it ran.”
“I see. Will that hold it?”
“For as long as I breathe,” Dionysus confirmed.
“Don’t you mean for as long as all of us breathe?” I said.