by Lucas Flint
“I have nothing else to tell you that you don’t already know,” Guide said. “As for the God Slayer, it will teach you how to use it yourself. It was a weapon designed to aid Arius and his descendants and it will continue to do so even in the hands of an untrained boy such as yourself. But don’t let yourself become cocky. The Dread God is a clever and dangerous enemy and he will seek to exploit your weaknesses when you least expect it.”
“I understand,” said Beams. “He’s already tried to do that to me several times.”
“Yes, but you must understand that the Dread God will become desperate once he sees the God Slayer again,” said Guide. “He will be driven to act out in dangerous ways even I cannot foresee. Like a cornered animal, the Dread God will lash out and hurt anyone who gets in his way.”
Beams nodded once again. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind when I fight him again.”
“I hope you do,” said Guide. He pointed at the portal. “Step through that portal and return to your friends. They need you now more than ever. Not just your friends who came with you to Ariopolis, but also your friends scattered across the multiverse, who are currently in a fight for their lives they cannot win. Go and help them with the power of the God Slayer at your command.”
Beams was about to ask Guide what fight Bolt and the others were going through, but then he realized he already knew the answer to that and said, “All right. Goodbye, Guide. I hope you sleep well.”
Beams turned and entered the portal. Going from the breezy mountaintop to the dark, dank cave was a sharp contrast, particularly the temperature because the cave was a lot colder than the mountaintop. Yet the darkness felt different now. It no longer felt like tar and did not stick to his body. Nor did he sense any other living creatures watching him.
I don’t sense the Guardians anymore, Beams thought. Maybe they’re like Guide. Now that I have the God Slayer, they have no reason to do anything other than rest.
Thinking about Guide made Beams look over his shoulder. Through the open portal, Beams saw Guide still sitting on the ground, but his eyes were closed now and he wore an expression of pure bliss on his face. Beams was almost jealous of how blissful Guide looked in his restful state.
Then the portal closed and Beams found himself standing alone in pitch black darkness again, the only light shining at the end of the tunnel. But Beams no longer felt worried or apprehensive about the darkness. He merely walked toward the light, clutching the God Slayer tightly in hand, until he emerged out of the cave and into the cold, harsh air of Antarctica.
As soon as Beams emerged from the cave, Shade and Mr. Space ran up to him. Both of them wore identical expressions of worry and relief as if they couldn’t decide if they were happy to see that he was back or if they were worried about whether he was really well.
“Beams!” said Mr. Space, coming to a sharp stop in front of him. “We were so worried about you! Did you complete the—”
His eyes focused on the God Slayer in Beams’ hands and they widened considerably. “Is that the God Slayer?”
Beams nodded. He held up the sword so that Mr. Space and Shade could better see it. “Yes. This is the very same weapon that Arius used to slay the Dread God all those years ago. And it’s the same weapon which will slay the Dread God again, once I find him again.”
Shade squeed. “I can’t believe it! You actually completed the Gauntlet. I thought you’d die.”
Mr. Space held out a hand toward Shade. “Give me my ten dollars.”
Shade frowned, but then sighed and dug ten dollars out of her pocket and handed it to Mr. Space. “Here you go. Happy?”
Mr. Space was smiling broadly as he put the money into the pocket of his suit. “Very.”
“Wait, were you two betting on whether I’d complete the Gauntlet or not?” said Beams in astonishment.
“Yeah,” said Mr. Space, nodding. “I bet you’d win, she bet you’d lose. I won the bet, so I got the money. I think that should also tell you which one of us actually supports you and which one doesn’t.”
Shade folded her arms in front of her chest and scowled. “It’s not that I don’t support Beams. It’s just that Scorius kept saying that no one had ever completed the Gauntlet and, honestly, Beams, you’re not really that special, so I was just hedging my bets. That’s all.”
Beams wasn’t sure whether to be offended by Shade’s comments or not, but before he could say anything, he heard footsteps walking toward them and looked over to see Scorius, Pesa, Garus, and the hunters walking over to them. Scorius’ and Garus’ hoods made it impossible to tell what they were thinking or feeling, but Pesa was positively beaming at him and he couldn’t help but smile back, despite how exhausted he was from completing the challenge.
“Alexander Fry,” said Scorius as he and his fellow Ariopolitans stopped several feet away from Beams, Shade, and Mr. Space. “You are the first challenger to ever complete the Gauntlet and win the God Slayer. That makes you a true son of Arius and thus deserving of the respect which is reserved for that family line.”
Scorius said all of that with a hint of disbelief in his voice. Beams didn’t blame him. Nearly all of the gathered Ariopolitans seemed to be at a loss for words. They exchanged puzzled looks and muttered among themselves as if they weren’t quite sure whether this was all real or some kind of strange dream. Despite knowing that this was real, Beams had to admit he could understand their disbelief, given how many challengers had failed to finish the Gauntlet over the years.
“Thanks, Elder,” said Beams. “It was uncertain for a while there, but with a little bit of luck, I managed to do it.”
“Indeed,” said Scorius. The disbelief in his voice was fading now, replaced by a genuine respect. “Having seen your bravery, courage, and skill, I have but one last reward to give you before you leave to defeat the Dread God once and for all.”
Beams frowned. “Reward? What reward? Are you going to give me gold or something?”
“I am going to give you something far more valuable than even the rarest precious metals on the earth,” said Scorius. He put a hand on Pesa’s shoulder. “I offer you my daughter’s hand in marriage and the title of King of Ariopolis, the same title which Arius himself was once given by King Horak, who recognized his greatness and offered him his crown after the original death of the Dread God.”
Beams’ jaw dropped. He looked at Pesa, who was both smiling and blushing furiously, and then back at Scorius again. “Did you just say you wanted me to marry Pesa?”
“Yes,” said Scorius, nodding. “That is exactly what I said. Will you accept?”
“That’s, uh, that’s—” Beams stuttered, but then was interrupted by Shade, who said, “I think you two would make a cute couple. Plus, who wouldn’t want to be a king? Sounds like a great deal to me.”
“She doesn’t speak for me,” Beams added hastily, earning a puzzled look from Scorius, “she just rambles like that. Don’t take anything she says seriously.”
“What?” said Shade, throwing her hands into the air. “I’m just trying to help. Aren’t you looking for a girlfriend or something?”
“I agree with Shade,” said Mr. Space. “Pesa is a cute girl and would probably make a good wife for you. If you need a suggestion for where you should for your honeymoon, I hear the Endless Forest is nice this time of year.”
Although neither Shade nor Mr. Space was gods, Beams was nonetheless very tempted to stab them with the God Slayer just to test its power. But he refrained from doing something potentially foolish and instead said to Scorius, “That’s a very, er, generous offer, Elder Scorius, but I’m not sure I’m ready for marriage yet. Not that Pesa is bad or ugly or anything like that, but I’m very young and—”
“So?” Scorius interrupted. “I got married to my wife when I was sixteen and she was fifteen. You two are only a little older than that. It will be fine.”
“Where I come from, that’s considered a little too young to marry,” said Beams quickly. He waved
the God Slayer. “Besides, I need to go and slay the Dread God with this sword. I don’t have time for a wedding right now even if I wanted to get married.”
Pesa suddenly frowned and even looked a little offended by Beams’ words, but Scorius merely nodded and said, “I see. Yes, slaying the Dread God once and for all is probably the more important thing to do at the moment. We can discuss the terms of the marriage later, once the Dread God is dead and things have calmed down.”
Beams wanted to say that they would never discuss the ‘terms of marriage’ ever because he had no intention of marrying Pesa, no matter how cute she was, but he realized that this was the best he could get and that it would be a waste of time arguing the point with Scorius.
So Beams just nodded and said, “Fine. It’s time for us to go, but before we do, there’s someone I want to talk to.”
Mr. Space tilted his head to the side. “Who would that be? Someone in Ariopolis?”
Beams shook his head and looked toward the north. “No. Someone far away from here, practically on the other side of the world. The God Slayer will help us defeat the Dread God, but I think we’re going to need his help, too, just to make sure we will win.”
“Well, I suppose we can make a quick detour to this person you’re talking about,” said Mr. Space, putting his hands on his hips. “But we have to hurry. I just got a message from Sparky that Galaxy and the others are in some place called ‘the Shadowlands’ and he can’t contact them. He thinks they’re in danger.”
“Don’t worry,” said Beams, waving off Mr. Space’s concern. “Once I show him the God Slayer, I have no doubt he will be happy to join us.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“Did you just offer to make me a god?” said Bolt in surprise. “Seriously?”
The Dread God nodded. “You heard my words correctly, human. Follow me and I can give you power the likes of which your kind can only dream.”
Bolt looked over his shoulder at the others, who all appeared to be just as confused as he was. Even the Midnight Menace seemed taken aback by the Dread God’s offer, which didn’t help Bolt’s nerves one bit.
Looking back at the Dread God, Bolt said, “I thought your Avatar was trying to capture me to use as a sacrifice to you.”
The Dread God glanced down at the Avatar near his feet before snorting and saying, “My Avatar sometimes misinterprets my orders. It is due to the fact that he still limited and mortal in his thinking. He is far more intelligent than most Darzens, but a mortal can never become a god, no matter how intelligent he may become.”
Unless Bolt’s eyes were playing tricks on him, the Avatar looked like he was annoyed at the Dread God’s insult to his intelligence. That surprised Bolt, because he had always assumed that the Avatar, like every other Darzen in the multiverse, worshiped the ground the Dread God walked upon and would never even consider questioning it.
Perhaps there’s more to him than meets the eye, Bolt thought. I wouldn’t be very happy if the god I worshiped so casually insulted my intelligence, either.
But Bolt did not get a chance to dwell on that thought any further, because the Dread God looked at Bolt again and said, “As I said, join my pantheon, and unimaginable power will be in your grasp.”
Bolt shifted uncomfortably where he stood. “And just why should I believe you? How do I know you aren’t just saying this to make me lower my guard?”
“Because I could destroy you regardless of whether you keep your guard up or not,” said the Dread God. He balled his hands into fists. “The power I wield is older than the stars and deeper than the multiverse. It is only because of my graceful and forgiving nature that I am willing to offer you a position in my pantheon at all.”
Bolt snorted. “Your name is the Dread God. That doesn’t exactly scream ‘graceful and forgiving.’”
“You don’t know true dread until you stare it directly in the face,” said the Dread God. “But if you do not believe me, then believe my followers. Graalix, step forward.”
Graalix nodded and stepped forward. He looked much the same as he did the last time Bolt had seen him, which wasn’t that long ago now that Bolt thought about it, but Graalix seemed to have a different aura about him as if something about him had changed, though Bolt couldn’t say what.
“What does having Graalix step forward prove?” said Bolt, tilting his head to the side. “He doesn’t look that different.”
“Do you not remember how he once looked, not long ago?” said the Dread God. “When I first found Graalix, he was a broken creature, the sole survivor of an entire race of aliens who perished at your hands. Now, he is a strong and proud warrior who can take even you in a fight, but he will soon be much more than that, won’t you, Graalix?”
“Indeed, Dread God,” said Graalix, nodding again. “Under your power, I shall achieve godhood myself, and with my power, restore the Mother World to its original beauty and power. And I will kill anyone who stands in my way.”
Bolt’s eyes widened. “You mean the Dread God has promised to make you a god, too?”
“The Dread God, in his infinite mercy and grace, has promised godhood to all of us,” said the Dread Priest, gesturing with his staff at himself, the Avatar, and Graalix. “For we are his most faithful servants, who have earned the right to become gods and reign over the multiverse with him. Truly, the Dread God is great and wondrous. Halok!”
Now Bolt understood why the Dread Priest was such a fanatical follower of the Dread God. He would be, too, if the Dread God had promised to turn him into a god if he agreed to serve the Dread God.
Actually, the Dread God has already promised to make me into a god, Bolt thought, and I have no intention of accepting his offer, so—
“Why do you want me?” said Bolt, jerking a thumb at his chest. “I’ve done nothing but oppose you ever since I learned you existed. Giving me the power of a god would be really awesome and all, but it wouldn’t help you one bit.”
“Because I sense potential within you, human, potential beyond what most humans have,” said the Dread God. “You are already a powerful and skilled superhuman, yet you still have yet to reach your fullest potential, hampered by the physical limitations of your own pathetic mortal body. It would be better to make you into an ally rather than an enemy, even if you have tried to thwart my plans.”
“Didn’t you try to do this with Beams?” said Bolt in annoyance. “I thought you had some kind of connection with him that you tried to use to control him.”
“I was … mistaken to try to turn Beams into one of my servants,” the Dread God admitted, though without looking at Bolt. “He is too rebellious, too ‘heroic,’ to listen to anything I have to say. Besides, he is a son of Arius, the human who killed me in the first place. I thought it would be fitting to corrupt a son of Arius into a vessel of my own, but I have had to abort that plan after it became clear that Beams was never going to serve me.”
“I see,” said Bolt, “well, I’m still not going to serve you or join your little pantheon. I mean, if those three guys are your best candidates for godhood, then you’ve got a pretty terrible pantheon already.”
“How dare you so blatantly and disrespectfully reject the Dread God’s most generous offer?” the Dread Priest began in a tone that reminded Bolt of a preacher about to begin a sermon. “You believe that because you have avoided destruction by his wrath so far that you are destined to succeed. How foolish, how disrespectful, how—”
The Dread God raised a hand. “Silence, my Dread Priest. I agree with your point, but there is no purpose to ramble and rant on in the way that you have. That will not convince Bolt to join me.”
“Yeah, because nothing will convince me to join you,” said Bolt, flashing the Dread God a smirk. “I’d rather die than serve you and your twisted plans.”
The Dread God returned the smirk, which looked positively ghoulish on his bovine features. “Nothing would convince you to join me, you say? What about the deaths of your friends?”
The Dread God waved his hand. Bolt thought he was going to fire some energy blast at him, but instead, Bolt heard a scream behind himself and looked over his shoulder at the others.
Hypno, Captain Galaxy, Aster, and the Midnight Menace were all stuck inside a giant, purple glowing energy cage. Not only were they trapped inside it, but each one of his friends was lying or kneeling on the floor, struggling to maintain their consciousness against whatever force was being pressed upon them. The Midnight Menace had plunged his sword into the floor and leaned against it in an increasingly vain attempt to remain upright, while Hypno had completely collapsed onto the floor and Captain Galaxy and Aster held onto each other for support.
Bolt whipped his head back toward the Dread God. “What are you doing to them? Let them go. Now.”
The Dread God chuckled. “I have encased all of your friends in what I call a Death Cage. My Death Cages rapidly drain the life force out of anyone who is unfortunate to be trapped inside them. To put it in terms you mortals would understand, your friends are dying.”
“Don’t even try to break open the Death Cage,” the Dread Priest added quickly. “The bars of the Death Cage are impenetrable and unbreakable. Only the Dread God himself can remove them, but as you have probably guessed, he never will.”
“Not unless you accept my offer and join my pantheon,” said the Dread God. “If you do, then I will remove the Death Cage and send your friends back to their homes, alive and in one piece. But if you do not, I will kill all four of them while you watch, helpless to save them. What will your decision be?”
Bolt gritted his teeth. He wanted to rush over and smash in the Dread God’s stupid, ugly face, but he knew that would do nothing except make the situation worse. Sure, he had punched the Dread God once before, but he sensed that the Dread God had already grown more powerful since then and that it would take far more power than he had in order to take down the Dread God or even simply harm him.
Yet I can’t join his pantheon, Bolt thought, shaking his head. No way, no how. I’m not going to help him take over the multiverse. Not if I can help it, anyway.
