The Last God

by Norris Black

  "She's out of any immediate danger. Those thumb-fisted bandages you slapped on her did a well enough job of keeping her from bleeding out. Right now, she needs rest. She's lost a lot of blood, and she took a pretty serious blow to the head judging by the size of the lump I found."

  I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Well, that's some welcome news at least."

  "So now what?" she asked.

  "I'm tired of being on the back foot, it's about time I figure out who's gunning for me and shove a bullet or three up their ass. Did you manage to make contact with Happy Jack?"

  "I have a meeting with him in a few hours to finalize things. Jack's old school, he won't agree to a deal without a spit and a handshake." She made a face that spoke volumes about her feelings on that particular practice. "For now, get some rest." She reached out a delicate hand and lightly traced a symbol on my forehead with her index finger.

  The beginnings of a protest formed on my lips but already my eyelids were drooping and within seconds I was asleep.

  I stared out at a broken city. At some point tall buildings had stood here, challenging the heavens. Now they lay scattered across cracked asphalt like some monstrous child's smashed toys, casting sharp shadows under a midday sun. A few miles ahead, the ground dropped out of sight, as if a massive sinkhole had swallowed everything up. I was standing on a tall tenement at the edge of the ruins. Spying movement among the rubble below I shaded my eyes for a better look. At first, I thought what I was seeing was people, survivors of whatever cataclysm had befallen this place. The notion was quickly discarded. Whatever those things were, they weren't human. Humans didn't move like that.

  The light directly above the crater was strange, like pale shadows flitting about bars of radiance, noticeable even under the bright light of a midday sun. It hurt to stare at for too long.

  "Even now, in this place, he's more than mortal eyes can bear," said a voice at my elbow. A soft voice, neither masculine nor feminine yet somehow both. A voice I recognized.

  It was wearing a broad brimmed hat with a face lost in shadows, the only thing visible was a smile containing too many teeth. A long purple cloak, pulled tight, hid the rest of its body from view.

  "What's the matter, no smoke here for your little party trick?" I admit I was still a little raw about being abandoned in that hellish basement.

  "I did save you from one of my brother's creations."

  "And then left me to fend for myself against the rest... wait, your brother?"

  That toothy grin grew wider and it shrugged. "In a manner of speaking. We're all brothers and sisters, aren't we? All children of the Will of the one who fell. But that one? He's newly born and mad as a hatter. He's searching for you and he wants you quite badly indeed."

  "Why me?"

  The unearthly hooting laughter that met my query made me shuffle a little further away from the hyena in the fancy hat.

  "They all ask the same question. 'Why me?'. Heroes, villains, victors, victims. It doesn't matter which they are. Though to be truthful, all people are all these things at one time or another, the only difference being the timing of circumstance in which the moment brings. They all want to know the answer, but would you like to know the truth? The 'why' is of no moment, it changes nothing. It doesn't carry you forward to triumph. It doesn't prevent your blood from watering thirsty soil. Better to ask 'how'. How do I get what I need? How do I defeat those set against me? How do I survive one more day? Yes, those are the questions you should be asking."

  "Where is this place?" It was clear whatever this creature was, it was trying to lead me to something, but I didn't much care for being led and was tired of playing other people’s games. One of the thing’s my father taught me was to never do what people expected. This advice was usually followed by him dropping his pants and trying to fight somebody. My father wasn't a well man. Still, it was solid advice on paper.

  I sensed mild frustration from my mysterious companion though its smile never faltered.

  "As you wish. This is the place where Father came to rest when he fell from the heavens. Well, not the actual place. That visit is still in your future."

  "This is the Battery? Man, I thought I lived in a shitty neighborhood." Despite my decades of life in this city I had never been to the rotten sore festering at the heart of it. Few had. Those that weren't already mad when they went in, certainly were when they came out. The few that made it back out that is. More often than not, a trip to the Battery was of the one-way variety. Nine times out of ten those unfortunate adventuresome souls were torn apart by the creatures still living among the ruins of the city's center. Or became twisted by the energies surrounding the corpse of the Last God and joined them. I wasn't sure which fate was worse. As for that rare time someone came back? The Seraph dealt with those, with finality,

  "Such a coarse name you people have given such a holy site, but yes this is the place He fell. Or a pale echo of it, at least. A dream of a dream you could say," The Thing With Many Teeth giggled, as if at some private joke.

  "So, your brother is after me, whoever the hells he is, and you'd rather play word games then tell me why? I'm quite rapidly reaching the extent of the pleasant side of my nature."

  It spread its hands, long fingered and encased in violet gloves. "There are many wheels in motion. The Seraph wants to crush the world in an iron fist, force everyone into their little roles, never deviating, never changing. So, so boring. The rich and the powerful in the outer ring want to sip their wine and dine on rare and exotic beasts while they show nothing but their backs to the city they left behind. And then there's the petty Wardlords, squabbling over the scraps like pigs rooting in trash. None of them aware all their little worlds rest on the knife blade of oblivion. A tiny push one way or the other, and we all go over the edge. All of creation screaming until the stars burn out. As to where you fit into all this. Well, that remains to be seen. Maybe you're the hand that steadies it all. Maybe you're the push."

  "And what about you? What do you want?"

  "Me? I don't want anything. I'm simply here to perform the function He created me for."

  "Which is what exactly?"

  Instead of answering the apparition in the fancy hat glanced up at the sky. Even with bright sunlight beaming down, its eyes remained in shadow. "Looks like it's time for you to go."

  From the distant crater I saw something rise. A giant shadow fell on me as something blotted out the sun. I glanced to the side to see The Thing With Many Teeth had vanished without a sound. I turned my attention back to the crater in time to see a massive shadowy hand reaching out towards me. I felt something constrict around my throat.

  "Where are my clothes!" thundered a voice in my head. The Battery dissolved from view as a swirl of darkness carried me away.

  Chapter 9

  I woke to a terribly angry half-naked Seraph soldier. She must've woken up while I was still out and found herself in a strange place wearing nothing but a sheet and with a disreputable-looking—not to mention shirtless—fellow, passed out on a nearby cushion. While I don't know what conclusions she came to, none of them could’ve been good. Which would explain why she was now looming over me with one hand clutching the white sheet around her with the other fastened firmly on my throat.

  "Who are you and what have you done with my clothes?" she asked again, giving me a rough shake for good measure. Those were both natural questions given the current state of things, and I would've loved to oblige with an answer if I hadn't been in the process of being thoroughly throttled. I made an attempt at responding anyway, most of it just gasps and wheezes but I did manage to squeak out a few words.

  "You... injured... brought... place... help..." I'm not certain if I meant that last word as part of the explanation or if it was a plea. Probably a bit of both.

  She must have realized a corpse wasn't going to give her any answers as her grip relaxed enough that I could speak, but not enough to allow me to move. Her fingers felt like th
ey had been forged from iron.

  "You collapsed... after the fight with whatever those things were... in the alleyway. You had lost a lot of blood. I used my shirt to bandage you as best I could, then brought you here to get help. I was able to cobble together a stretcher."

  The bandaging on her wounds gave some credence to my story, but she wasn't quite satisfied.

  "And my clothes?" judging by the look on her face I needed to make sure I answered this one carefully.

  "The healer, she had to cut them off in order to get at the injuries." Calling Mara a healer was stretching the truth a little, but at this point I'd gladly take any split hair I could get.

  "So, you didn't do this?" she asked, studying my eyes as I answered.

  "I just got you here, that's all."

  The answer seemed to satisfy her enough that she let me go. She stepped away, repositioning the sheet she was wrapped in and gripping it tighter in her left hand. Both of us knew that even with only one hand free she could deal with any trouble I might think of causing. Trouble was the last thing on my mind right then. I looked around, keeping my motions slow and calm so as to not invite a return to choking. The room was empty of anyone but the two of us. Mara must still be out and Garm was nowhere in sight. Louie laid stretched out in a pool of early morning light below one of the big windows. He watched us with sleepy eyes long enough to be certain that whatever the sudden commotion had been about, it was now over. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Clearly, he wasn't going to be of any help.

  "And where exactly is here?"

  "Five Points Plaza." I hoped Mara wasn't going to skin me alive for giving away her hideout location, but I didn't see much benefit in subterfuge at the moment.

  "Five Points? You carried me all the way from Brickstone Block to Five Points Plaza? That must've taken hours."

  "And then some. I'd already had a rough day, and you're heavy, I mean, not heavy heavy, good heavy, you know, muscles and all that..." I stopped talking before I dug my grave any deeper. For a man who has such big feet I can sure fit them in my mouth at the drop of a dime. Thankfully, she didn't seem to take offense to my ramblings.

  "Why here? Why not take me to a Seraph station, or get to a main street and flag down another patrol?"

  "So just head up to a group of heavily armed fanatics while covered in blood and dragging one of their own behind me? And why exactly wouldn't they lop my head off on the spot? I'd had a shitty day, but I wasn't quite at the 'suicide by Seraph' point."

  "We're not fanatics," she protested, offense clear in her voice. "They would've treated you justly."

  "Like your sergeant would've treated me justly? I've had enough dealings with Seraph to know he was looking for any opportunity to crack a few ribs and throw me in a cell."

  "Grannon was an ass, we're not all like that."

  "No, just every one of you I've ever met, present company excluded of course," I quickly amended. "Speaking of present company, do you have a name?"

  "Swordbearer Fray, Seraph Third Rank." A pause. "Dagda. You may call me Dagda. After all, it appears I owe you my life."

  "Technically, it's me you owe."

  I leaped up at the unexpected voice, the only saving grace was that Dagda also gave a little jump, though not nearly as pronounced as mine.

  "I'm the one who did all the work after all." Mara was standing in the doorway, a stack of folded clothes in her arms. By the twinkle in her eye you could tell she was aware of the shocking effect her sudden appearance had elicited. I wondered how long she'd been skulking there, waiting for the perfect moment.

  "And you would be?" asked Dagda.

  "Mara Valentine, at your service. Gideon here told me of the great adventure you two had. Such an exciting life you must live. Here, I brought you something to wear," she said, handing the Seraph a bundle of clothes.

  "And you, " she said, turning to me. "I also have another shirt. Please try to keep this one intact for more than a day, hmm?"

  The shirt was a light gray button-down identical to the one that I had reduced to bandages so recently. I wondered if she had some stockpile of these somewhere. Regardless, I was simply happy to cover up.

  I turned my back so Dagda could get dressed without an audience.

  "Thank you for your kindness, and your skills healer, I'm in your debt, " said Dagda after she had finished dressing. The outfit Mara had brought for her was an actual Seraph uniform, only lacking the symbols and stripes that normally adorned one. I hoped the soldier would be too distracted by current events to question where a simple healer had managed to procure such clothes.

  Mara's eyebrows went up at the term 'healer' and glanced at me before responding. "Yes, of course. Your injuries looked worse than they actually were due to all the blood. They're all stitched up now. Keep them clean and try not to exert yourself for a few days and you'll be well on the way to a full mend."

  Dagda's wounds had been much more dire than that, but no good could come of letting Dagda know a wych had put her back together. The Seraph tended to be a little touchy around anything that stunk of the Battery. While wychery wasn't technically the same thing, it wasn't a distinction I wanted to test out.

  "So... now what?" I was almost afraid to voice the question. Before a pack of monstrous street urchins had gotten in the way, I was in the process of a likely arrest, or at the very least a solid beating. I didn't know if Dagda planned to bring me in for questioning or not. Seraph are infamous for their unyielding service of what they considered justice.

  "I need to report back about the attack, and the death of my squad mates."

  "And me? I mean, none of that had anything to do with me. I was just at my office to pick up my cat," I said, pointing over to where Louie was now stretched fully on his back with his feet in the air, enjoying the morning sun. The faint sound of snoring could be detected coming from his direction. "The last thing I need is to be on the Seraph's radar."

  She frowned. "No. To be honest I think Grannon was looking for an excuse to crack someone's skull. He gets... got... bored easily." She stiffened up visibly as she made the correction to past tense. She was putting on a strong face, but it was obvious the death of her team was hitting her hard. "You could have left me there to bleed out, but you didn't. I owe you for that. I'll keep you out of the official report. And you, healer—"

  "Mara, please."

  "Mara. I am in your debt."

  Mara's eyes lit up a bit at that. Debts were one of her favorite currencies.

  After some awkward goodbyes Dagda reclaimed her sword—I had brought it back with us in case anymore mutilated baddies leaped out of the woodwork at us—and left, leaving the dark-haired wych and I alone. And Louie of course, who seemed to be having vivid dreams of chasing down mice judging by the waving of his paws in the air and the licking of his lips.

  "Healer?" said Mara after she was confident the Seraph was well out of earshot.

  "Did you want me to tell her who you really were? I was being choked by an angry half-naked trained killer, I thought I did pretty well all things considered."

  A harrumph. "I suppose you did."

  "I'm shocked you didn't spell her to sleep until you got back."

  "I did, but Seraph soldiers are conditioned to resist enchantments. Still, I'm surprised she shook it off so easily."

  "How did the meeting with Jack go?"

  "It's all set up. He'll take you in and help you with whatever you need. Getting him to agree not to cut your throat on sight was easier than expected. Once I told him this would be a play against Murder Rowe, he was all in. I expect he'll still give you a bit of a hard time—mostly for appearance's sake. He does have a reputation to maintain, but he won't resort to any sharp steely bits inserted into any of your major organs. I think he's actually a little fond of you, truth be told. Rowe though, Rowe he absolutely loathes."

  "Is it okay if Louie stays here for a bit?"

  "I'll watch over your friend. When night falls, I'll have Garm tak
e you to Jack. You're clearly not capable of going for even a short walk on your own without causing some sort of calamity. Until then, you should eat and try to get some rest."

  I ate a beef stew and plain bread supplied by Mara before laying back on the cushion to catch some shuteye. With that, I had little success. My mind kept coming back to the words the mysterious visitor with the creepy smile had said to me.

  'Maybe you're the hand that steadies it all. Maybe you're the push'.

  But why me?

  Chapter 10

  "I'm going to need you to repeat that."

  Shadows stretched long as the sun began its slow descent below the horizon. Soon it would leave nothing but a bloody stain across the sky to mark its passing. Mara had been explaining how Garm was going to get me to Happy Jack's hideout. At some point during the day the giant wolf had returned from wherever it had gone. One moment it was just Mara, Louie and I, and the next he was standing in the corner like he'd been there all along.

  "I said, you're going to need to get up on his back."

  "Are you telling me I'm supposed to ride him? Have you lost your mind!"

  "There's no need for that tone, dear."

  "I'm sorry, I guess I get a little worked up when someone tells me I need to ride a giant fucking wolf through town. Even putting aside how absolutely terrifying that sounds, won't I be just a tiny bit conspicuous?"

  Garm's tongue lolled out of his mouth. I was certain he was laughing at me.

  "Don't be ridiculous, you won't be riding him through the streets, you'll be riding him through the wyrd."

  "I must still be suffering from a traumatic head wound, because I'm clearly not hearing you correctly."

  "Going through the wyrd is the only way to ensure you get there safely."

  "How is that possible? I thought the wyrd was some invisible fount of power. How exactly does one ride through it?"

  "It's a place that exists outside and alongside this world, a transdimensional plane of existence, a place of infinite potentialities. When wychs tap into it, we're leveraging that power to change potentialities in our own reality into actualities."