Malevolenci

by Sunshine Somerville

  “Look around,” said Ares, motioning to the beach. “Look what we’ve done to our own world – our own paradise. We never should create worlds again. Even if we found another way to replenish our home, using magic to create would drain us all over again. We created thousands of worlds, thinking our magic was without limit or consequence. We shouldn’t do anything that brazen ever again.”

  “But without the Pyramid,” Ceres argued, “we lose connection with creation. The Pyramid has always been our link with the alt-worlds. If it’s destroyed, we’ll never be able to enter our worlds again.”

  “We can’t abandon millions of people.” Aphrodite’s eyes held tears. “Many worlds are still young. They need our guidance.”

  “Do they?” scoffed Vulcan. “Some gods we turned out to be. They might be better off without us.”

  Artemis shook her head. “There must be another way.”

  Horus raised a hand for attention. “We’re not suggesting we abandon the alt-worlds. Quite the contrary.”

  Janus exchanged confused looks with his friends.

  Ares’s eyes were as serious as Janus had ever seen. “We’re sending ourselves into the alt-worlds, each creator to a different world.”

  Aphrodite gaped. “You mean we’d leave for good, don’t you? We’d never come back?”

  Vulcan studied Ares’s expression. “We wouldn’t be able to return, if the Pyramid was destroyed.”

  “But,” Horus pointed out, “the destroyers couldn’t come after us either. This is the best way to escape before we’re imprisoned…or worse. And it’s the best way to protect the alt-worlds. If there’s no Pyramid, the destroyers can’t drain our worlds of magic, they can’t get into other worlds to attack, and they can’t come after us. Meanwhile, we’ll be scattered throughout the alt-worlds to help however we can.”

  “But the rifts,” Artemis argued. “The destroyers can still make rifts even without the Pyramid, right? They could still hunt us and attack the alt-worlds.”

  Ares shook his head. “The rifts only work when the world on the other end is a world people can enter in the first place. And most worlds we closed centuries ago.”

  Aphrodite looked from Ares to Horus and back again. “What does that mean?”

  “It means,” said Horus with a sigh, “that the only world left open to rifts is the Sanctuary.”

  “But…” Janus frowned. “Isn’t that the world we need to protect most?”

  Vulcan nodded. “If the destroyers get control of the Sanctuary, they won’t need our world’s Pyramid to attack other worlds. The Sanctuary was set up to connect with the alt-worlds – it gives refuge to troubled people from every part of creation. If the destroyers open rifts and take control, they could use the Sanctuary’s links with the alt-worlds and attack that way.”

  Ceres agreed. “We only gave the natives the ability to bring people to their world, but the destroyers would be able to send themselves into others.”

  “We know,” said Athena. “But by placing ourselves in the alt-worlds, the Sanctuary natives can summon us. Then we’ll be able to help them fight the destroyers and their army of beasts.”

  Vulcan stroked his beard. “Why don’t we all go to the Sanctuary directly in the first place? We could fight the destroyers the instant they open rifts to invade.”

  “There are only a hundred of us,” said Ares. “Even using the magic of the Sanctuary we’re trying to protect, we’d never overpower the nine hundred destroyers and their beasts.”

  Vulcan scowled. “So what’s the point?”

  “We need to buy ourselves time,” said Athena. “We need to stretch this war out as long as we can. We have to outlast the destroyers. The more rifts they open, the more they’ll drain the remaining power in this world after we leave. They won’t be able to create beasts ad nauseam, so they’ll have to wait for the creatures to breed naturally. They’ll be impatient and attack, exhausting their resources, including the magic sustaining their immortality.”

  Aphrodite shuffled her feet. “You’re hoping they die? You think they’ll get so desperate to win that they’ll use up even the magic keeping them alive?”

  They’re addicts, thought Janus. And if they run out of magic here, they’ll obsess over the Sanctuary. They’ll do anything to get it.

  “But it’s nine hundred to one hundred,” said Ceres. “It’s more likely we’ll run out of rebels first.”

  Horus nodded. “That’s why we need to create more allies.”

  Artemis’s purple eyes widened. “What? You mean like the destroyers’ monsters?”

  “No, I mean like creating copies of ourselves.”

  “Wh…” Aphrodite made a face. “What?”

  Ares gave a nod to assure them they’d heard correctly. “Before we destroy the Pyramid, we need to create copies of ourselves and send their life forces into the alt-worlds. We’ll design them so that one copy of each of us will be born once in every alt-world once every life cycle. They’ll be connected to us, sharing our magic. Many of them will be fortunate enough never to know their significance in this war. But in the proper time, some will join the fight. In that way, we’ll stretch out our numbers.”

  Vulcan lifted an eyebrow. “What does ‘in the proper time’ mean?”

  “I’ve already snuck into the Sanctuary and tweaked the summono spell the natives use to pull people into their world. In the future, the first summono cast in each generation will pull one of us from the alt-worlds where we’ve escaped.” Ares hesitated. “I also spelled a curse into the fabric of the Sanctuary. Whenever a creator enters the Sanctuary, they’ll lose their immortality. All of our magic will leave us and be bound to the Sanctuary’s magic, strengthening it so any wounds from the rifts will heal quickly.”

  No one looked happy about this.

  “That way,” Ares hurried on, “the destroyers can be killed if they cross their rifts. As for ourselves, this sacrifice will mean strengthening the Sanctuary’s ability to last against the destroyers.”

  Aphrodite’s eyes widened. “So we could die?”

  “Yes,” said Athena. “We will die to protect our creation. But we won’t go down without a fight.”

  Ares nodded. “And when we die, the natives will cast the summono for a new ally. That spell will bring one of our living copies to the Sanctuary.”

  Now Janus understood. “That’s how we stretch out our numbers.”

  “Yes,” said Ares. “Since our copies will be connected to our magic, they’ll connect to our magic bonded into the Sanctuary. They’ll have our creator magic to fight with. But if that copy falls, the next summono will bring another copy. The next summono, another. Each copy will have more magic than the last because each copy’s magic will flow into the Sanctuary once they die, leaving a pool. The last copy of each of us will have our full power, and hopefully they’ll be able to do a lot of damage against the destroyers.”

  “Will they know what they are?” asked Artemis. “It wouldn’t be easy for them to know they were created in the image of a god.”

  Athena shook her head. “We don’t want to burden them with that, no. They’ll think they’re just alt-world versions of each other like everyone else has different versions of themselves.”

  “Yes.” Ares took a breath. “Most of those created in our images will live out their lives in the alt-worlds, oblivious to this war and their part in it. But each new generation’s summono will bring another one of us, and the cycle will start again.”

  Athena nodded. “Spacing ourselves out this way will lengthen our ability to fight this war. And stretching out this fight means the destroyers will grow weaker. At some point, surely one of us will be able to vanquish whatever’s left of their army.”

  This plan took a moment to sink in.

  “Lengthening the war…” Artemis frowned in thought. “We’re not the only ones who’ll be sacrificed with this plan. The natives who’ll call for our help will fight and die. Our unknowing copies will be pulled from their h
omes to fight for a world that isn’t even their own, and they’ll die. And those who’ve found a new life in the Sanctuary will get caught in this war and die. This plan will bring a lot of death to a world we meant to be a haven.”

  “The destroyers would bring even more death if we don’t do this,” said Athena.

  “We’re immortal creators,” Aphrodite thought aloud. “We can’t die of age or by nature. We’ve lived for eons. The idea of dying myself is hard to fathom.”

  Janus nodded. “We can be killed, though. We’ve always known that. Now that the destroyers have chosen this path… We’ve stood up to them, and they see us as enemies. However we fight this war, they’ll seek to kill us.” He looked at Ares, Horus, and Athena. “I agree your plan gives us the best chance at defeating them.” He swallowed. “Even if it means sacrificing ourselves.”

  The circle of rebels paused, each in their own thoughts.

  Ares sighed. “When I went to the Sanctuary and adjusted the summono spell, I made sure that it would bring me first.”

  Athena’s eyes widened. This was apparently new information to both her and Horus.

  “You should have discussed that with us,” said Horus.

  Ares waved this off. “I started this rebellion. It’s only right that I be first to fight. I’ll do all I can to help those in the Sanctuary, and I’ll leave behind guidelines for whichever rebel comes after me. Whoever is chosen next will continue the fight. We must each learn from those before us – even our copies might find new ways to fight. As the Sanctuary’s army evolves, so must we. I suspect we’ll each find unique ways to contribute to the destroyer’s end.”

  We have one hundred generations to defeat them. Will that be enough time, even with so many copies of ourselves? The destroyers are smart – we’re not the only ones who’ll learn new tactics as this war progresses.

  Ares looked from face to face. “We’ll meet tomorrow night at the Pyramid. Spread the word and bring every rebel you can find.”

  Vulcan scowled. “The destroyers won’t let us anywhere near the Pyramid.”

  Athena grinned. “I have it on good authority that the destroyers will be distracted far away.”

  What does that mean?

  Vulcan appeared to wonder the same but shook his head to move on. “So we create copies of ourselves, send them into the alt-worlds, escape through the Pyramid ourselves, and the last one out destroys the Pyramid. That the plan?”

  Ares nodded back at him.

  They paused to contemplate the path they were about to embark upon.

  We’ll never see each other again. Once we split up into the alt-worlds, we’ll be alone for generations. We won’t know what’s become of each other until we’re summoned to the Sanctuary to fight our former creator kin. But this is the best plan we’re going to come up with. There are too few of us to do anything more.

  In the momentary lull of conversation, Janus heard a sound he’d been dreading. In the back of his mind, he’d never stopped listening for it, but its sudden presence was enough to make his heart race.

  Somewhere in the smoke and clouds above, the flying monsters beat their wings.

  The group took a step back from each other and looked into the gray sky.

  Artemis whispered, “Think someone told them about our meeting?”

  “Possibly.” Ceres kept his eyes turned to the clouds. “But there are thousands of these things flying around now. This flock might’ve found us by chance.”

  “We should leave,” whispered Aphrodite.

  “Agreed.” Ares took his gaze off the sky. “We’ll meet tomorrow night at the Pyramid.”

  With that, the band of rebels broke up and sprinted in different directions over the sooty beach. A loud screech echoed down at them as Janus bolted for a trail.

  Janus crept through the empty pavilion and noted ash smeared across the once polished floors. Lightning from outside flashed to light his way, but he could’ve walked this path by memory even in the dark.

  I’ll never walk it again if Ares’s plan works.

  When he stepped past the pillars into the wide courtyard of the Pyramid, he saw his fellow rebels already gathered. Black clouds swirled above, pouring rain onto the dirty stones around the Pyramid’s pool. A group of ten rebels stood at the Pyramid’s side facing Janus, and several glanced back nervously as he emerged from the shadowed pavilion. When they saw it was only him, they turned back to the Pyramid.

  Janus moved closer and watched with the rest as Vishnu stepped into the pool to face the gigantic crystal side of the Pyramid that faced them. Vishnu was simply dressed like Janus, though the hairless man was smaller of stature.

  Janus noticed Aphrodite, Vulcan, Artemis, and Horus standing nearby, and he shuffled past the few other rebels to stand with his friends. Aphrodite had tears on her cheeks, and Vulcan held her tightly. Artemis, her long hair soaked from the rain, wore all black and was covered in dirt and what looked like the blood of the destroyers’ creatures. Horus’s long tunic was filthy, and one of his sleeves was shredded, the arm underneath bloody.

  “What happened to you?” Janus whispered to Horus.

  Horus’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth tightened under his long mustache. But he didn’t answer and kept his gaze on what was happening at the Pyramid.

  Artemis looked up at Janus, her purple eyes tense. She whispered, “They imprisoned Horus last night when he tried to convince his kin to join us rebels. One of them turned him in.”

  Janus glanced back at the pavilion. “They put him in that prison?”

  “And they’d added a few of their pets to guard him. I couldn’t leave him to be beaten or tortured or… I broke him out.” She wiped a glob of creature blood off her arm to make a point.

  Aphrodite shuddered. “Why’d the destroyers make such vile beasts?”

  Vulcan kissed her head again. “Why’ve they done a lot of things?”

  This is sick. The destroyers have lost all sense. They’ve ruined our world. They don’t see anything wrong with exterminating the worlds we’ve created. They threatened the few of us who’ve stood up to them… They’ll never stop unless we stop them. Not one of us is happy about leaving home, but it’s the only way.

  He looked back to those nearest the Pyramid and whispered to his friends, “What’s happening?”

  Artemis motioned with her head toward Vishnu. “It’s his turn. They’re making copies of him to send into the alt-worlds.”

  Cronos, God of Time, stood in the water behind Vishnu and stretched his cloaked arms wide. A surge of magic stretched to the crystal wall of the Pyramid, and the crystal rippled and became transparent, though the inside showed only emptiness at the moment. With a wave of Cronos’s hand, the stone at the Pyramid’s peak lit with magic, and beams of light shone from each alt-world symbol down onto Vishnu. Cronos swept his hand and bent the light beams, stretching them back and forth from Vishnu like a jump rope.

  After a few waving pulses, the beams bent far enough to touch the facing wall of the Pyramid. The light from Vishnu brightened, and he took a step back to steady himself. It looked as if gravity was using light to draw him toward the Pyramid.

  Then, with another pulsing burst of light, a ghost-like shadow of Vishnu was pulled forward into the Pyramid. One of the beams from the stone’s symbols vanished. Then another physical echo of Vishnu was pulled into the Pyramid, and another symbol’s beam faded. Then another. Then another. Soon hundreds of copies of Vishnu had entered the Pyramid into the alt-worlds represented by each symbol. Once the spell finished, Vishnu was left to stand before the rippling side of the Pyramid and collect himself.

  Ares stepped beside Cronos and said to Vishnu, “Have you chosen an alt-world?”

  Vishnu looked shaken by what had just happened, but he faced Ares with a nod. “My first world. If I’m to be exiled for lifetimes, let me be with my first creation.”

  Ares nodded.

  Vishnu waved a stream of magic to one of the high stone’s symbols. The ma
gic lit up the symbol, and the whole Pyramid rippled to reveal a different world inside.

  Each side of the Pyramid shows a different entry point, thought Janus as he watched. This is how we always enter our creations. One side connects with what the natives call the Triangle. One side connects with that sacred place of stones. One side connects with the wild lands at the bottom of the worlds. This side connects with the spot in the alt-worlds that corresponds to our courtyard here.

  The Pyramid’s wall facing them showed the white stones of a high mountainside. This overlook was so high that everything below took on a bluish hue, including the lush forests climbing the mountainside and the green fields of the valley. Fluffy clouds hung in the blue sky, and the sun was at full noon strength.

  Our home world was that beautiful once.

  Aphrodite drew in a breath. “This world always was one of my favorites.”

  “Me too,” whispered Vulcan. “I love these people’s stories about us gods. They believe we rule from on high, squabbling over our own melodramatic dramas.”

  Good thing they don’t know how ugly our disagreements truly are.

  Janus frowned but kept this thought to himself, not wanting to spoil the moment.

  Aphrodite swept aside golden curls to smile at Vulcan. “Except in their stories, I’m a complete floozy.”

  “True. And they’ve made me hideously ugly.” Vulcan smiled. “Can’t say as I care for that bit of poetic license.” He kissed the side of her head.

  Artemis smirked. “At least they have your genders right. Poor Ceres is a woman to these people.”

  They returned to silence as Vishnu stepped forward into the Pyramid. He entered the alt-world and stood on the white rocks of the mountain, his wet clothes from the home world catching the breeze of the new one. He looked back over his shoulder for a moment to smile at the gathered rebels, then he started down a trail leading off the mountain.

  Ares stretched a hand and waved a stream of magic at the alt-world’s symbol on the high stone. The symbol faded, the scene within the Pyramid disappeared, and the crystal wall returned to a solid state. Quickly the next creator stepped into the pool, and Cronos started the process again.