Return of the Ancient Gods

by Craig Robertson

  “No not head trauma,” I shouted for all I was worth.

  “But you just said it was,” replied Wul as he sat on the floor. Poor guy really was shaken.

  “No, yes it was. I was talking to her … er, my wife.”

  “She doesn't know she had head trauma?” asked Queeheg as he took his seat on the floor behind the bar. I really wasn't clearing the air well at all.

  “N … no,” I said feebly. “It was so bad it … well, it was bad.”

  “But she said she was a Cleinoid god,” whispered Queeheg. “Us gods, we'z don't suffer lastin' damage.”

  Wait, wait. How'd he know that? I told Sapale, but I was pretty sure I didn't tell him I told her. I said god, not specifically Cleinoid.

  I leaned way over the bar. “Did your sister simage you that the prisoner she's holding claimed to be a Cleinoid god?”

  He stared blankly at me.

  I slapped him across the face as best I could given the awkward angles involved.

  “Yeah, she did. Why?”

  Sapale. The answer is that you claim to be a Cleinoid god. Tell her the simage was about that.

  But I'm not a …

  Say it and say it now, I yelled in my head. I think it was in my head. I wasn't sure, but I really didn't care at that point.

  Wul was weeping softly, sitting there on the floor. “I'm so sorry. I don't know what you want me to say. Please spare my worthless life, oh Chosen One.”

  I guess I did sort of yell it out loud too, didn't I?

  “He … he … he's …” Queeheg face-planted on the filthy floor before finishing that thought. Right into a puddle of something sticky and brown. Lord only knew what it was, but my assumption was that it was unpleasantly bad.

  Jon! She says she'll be damned. That was the simage. She wants to know why a god would be stupid enough to trip a trap they all know about. She asks if I've suffered severe head trauma. Jon, why is she asking that?

  My life sucked so badly.

  Tell her Jon Ryan says she will indeed be damned. Tell her that I was messing with her, that your husband is Ryanmax, the poly Ryanmax. We both used the trap to save energy. We teleported to Prime on covert missions but used the traps to return because we were … we …

  We were stupid and wanted to risk death?

  Su … sure. Go with that. I got nothing.

  I told her the words you told me to.

  And.

  And I'm still not dead.

  That has to count for something.

  Jon, she just turned and left. She said something about how much she hates her job and she left.

  Hallelujah and kiss the kids on the forehead, I exclaimed. Honey, stay put and I'll be there as fast as I can.

  I leaned back over the bar. Queeheg was pushing himself out of the ooze to a sitting position. “Hey, you have a ride I can borrow?” I called down to him.

  Rubbing the back of his head, he replied, “Sure. Magic carpet in the storeroom's how I gets 'bout.”

  I looked back to Wul. “I guess that means you're not coming, right?”

  He shook his head weakly. Poor guy bit off more than he could chew being my friend and all. Lousy luck.

  Leaning back over, I asked Queeheg, “Does it know the way to the Lower Chambers?”

  That brought me the familiar are you crazy look I so deserved. “It's a magic carpet.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  “No, my dearest sister, who happens also to be an idiot, that is not what the sign indicates,” Deca scolded Fest.

  The two ancient witch gods skilled in prophecy sat hunched over the rotten entrails of a disemboweled carcass. It might once have been that of a pig, but it bore uncomfortable similarities to a person. The corpse was so mangled and decayed that positive visual identification was impossible. The sisters were oblivious to the rank stench. Vorc, who stood in the most distant doorway, was not so immune. He was having difficulty not retching or bolting. But, times being as they were, he needed to know what fate held in store.

  “The signs are so clear, Vorc there could read them,” continued Deca.

  Fest turned to eye him. “If only he'd come a little closer, we would find out.”

  They had a good cackle over that.

  “But, sister dearest, don't you see? The colon has swollen and shoved that segment into the other. That means fate is forcing its way toward our favor.” Deca was resolute.

  Fest spat in her sister's face. “Who taught you to read the signs? You are utterly incompetent. The entrails tell us nothing, nothing one way or another. Fate ignores us.”

  “You taught me, older sister,” Deca replied as she wiped spittle from her cheek.

  “Then I am a great interpreter and a bad teacher.”

  “No, you can't juxtapose great and bad is a sentence like that. The qualities of the adjectives must match. Great and good, horrible and bad.” Deca poked at the slimy mess with a long stick. “I suppose you could say great but bad.” She shrugged. “Awkward pacing then if you ask me.”

  “Well thank the Eternal Darkness no one did, least of all …”

  “Ladies, ladies,” chimed in an impatient Vorc, “I need answers, not a grammar lesson, threadbare as it is. Please focus on the question at hand.”

  “Ladies?” Fest quipped. “Are some women standing behind us we cannot see?”

  Again, they cackled like oversized lunatic chickens.

  “How can one of you see a strong positive while the other sees nothing at all?” he pressed with considerable frustration.

  “Hah. Because one of us is correct and one of us is an idiot,” responded Deca.

  Fest used her probe stick to whack her sister across the back that Deca turned to her when she saw the foul weapon coming.

  “Vorc, as a layman, you can't see the subtleties. I,” Fest rested a proud hand on her withered chest, “a master's master, see whatever is proffered up.” She touched a green mass that was bubbling slowly with spine-numbing burps. “This is the Organ of Manzy. It was used in life to help digest a fatty meal. It's now more fetid than the rest of this noisome mess.” She recklessly slapped at some globs, angry at them apparently for unknowable reasons.

  One wad of ooze narrowly missed Vorc's shoes. He hopped like a six-foot rabbit to avoid it.

  “If one cannot digest a coming meal, one will not receive it from all-knowing fate. Nothing could be more blatantly obvious.” Fest folded her arms with finality.

  “Sisters, please,” demanded Vorc. “My position grows more perilous by the day. The general unrest and discontent is piquing to isolated violence. If I do not say definitively that Prime is within reach, I fear anarchy will ensue.”

  Deca shot up an eyebrow. “Isolated violence? We know of no such acts.”

  Vorc toyed with the idea of quipping that of course they didn't. They lived in a dark tower with rotting flesh. He wisely let that impulse pass. “Commendra was assaulted and nearly ended last week. The medical gods had a devil of a time reattaching her head before it would have been too late.”

  Fest set a bony hand over her mouth and chuckled softly. Deca punched at her sister, but her decrepitude dictated she missed widely.

  “What? You find it amusing a fellow god was dismembered and nearly ended?” Vorc, who actually cared little either way about anyone else's fate, tried to sound haughty and offended.

  “It was not civil unrest that nearly cost the fool her worthless life,” began Deca.

  “No, the brood-cow disrespected Bethniak in public,” finished Fest.

  “Such a foolish thing to do,” added Deca.

  “I … why did I not hear of this?” Vorc demanded weakly.

  “Why indeed?” parroted Deca.

  “Let those with ears hear and those with eyes see,” riddled Fest.

  “Those are not answers. Do you mock me?” His indignation was not so much measured as it was halfhearted.

  Both sisters glared at him a few seconds, then turned in unison to reinspect the remains. Both poked and p
rodded at sections but neither spoke.

  Vorc finally realized he'd been dismissed. Not wanting to concede that fact and therein lose face, he puffed up his chest and announced, “I will return in one day. You had better have news by then or you'll have me to answer to.”

  One of the sisters snickered softly.

  THIRTY

  My magic carpet ride glided to a soft landing in front of the now renovated arched entrance to the Lower Chambers. I totally empathized with Wul about the stupid rugs. They were unsteady, the footing was treacherous, and the damn thing seemed to love to dive and pitch at random angles if for no other reason than to scare the rider. I stepped off and turned back to the wretched rag. “You can go or you can stay, but leave me the hell alone. You got that?”

  Magic carpets did not talk.

  Sapale, I'm out front. Can you find your way here?

  I guess so. Since your girlfriend left I've managed to get myself fairly lost in this pit.

  I don't want to risk running into Tefnuf. She may even believe we're gods, but she still may try and extract her pound of flesh from me on general principles.

  Yes, Mr. Bony Ass. I bet she would pay good money for the chance.

  What is around you? Maybe I can help direct you.

  Stone walls, flaming torches, and the occasional demon. At least I assume they're demons. If they're not there are great career opportunities for them in demoning.

  The carpet. It could find her. Duh, it was magical. I walked back to where I'd left it. Rug hadn't budged. “I need you to go into the Lower Chambers and fetch my wife. She's new here and kind of lost.”

  Nothing.

  “Come on, I said go get her.”

  The carpet slid a couple inches away from me.

  A rug with attitude. Nice. Just what I needed. I sure as hell wasn't going to apologize or try and take back my harsh words. The stupid doormat was a deathtrap.

  “I have little patience with disrespectful tools,” I tried to thunder. It came out rather meekly.

  Carpet slid back a few more inches.

  Jon, I'm kind of freaking out. A troop of tiny elephants with wings just flew past me. The one who led the column said, “Good morning,” the one in the middle said, “Good luck,” and the last one said, “Good night.” Jon, I need to get out of here now.

  That freaking rug seemed to wiggle with mirth. Maybe there was a breeze. “Look, okay, I'm sorry I said mean words. Will you go get her now?”

  It slid back one inch then forward one inch. What the hell?

  “Please would you go get her?”

  In a flash the carpet shot through the entrance and out of sight. Stupid carpet wanted me to grovel. Man I wished I had a couple moths in my pocket for when it returned.

  I sent a magic carpet to pick you up. It'll be there in a jiffy.

  Jon, seriously, I'm creeped out by this place. No Jon humor, okay?

  I'm completely serious. It's … this realm is kind of different. Trust me.

  Jon, did you send a five-by-six red carpet with a paisley pattern?

  Did I? Ah, maybe. I hadn't really noticed.

  You are such a guy.

  Thank you.

  It was not meant as a compliment, trust me. How the hell do yooooo …

  Fly one? You don't. There're damn scary, aren't they?

  The rug zipped to my side.

  “Yes they are,” she said as she leapt off the carpet. “Shoo,” she said to it with a sweep of the backs of her hands.

  “No, don't piss it off. Never know when you might need one, you know?”

  “What, you an expert on all things ancient gods now?”

  I swaggered in place. “You could say that.”

  She rolled all four eyes and pushed past me. “Where's home. I need to take a load off.”

  I bobbed my head side to side. “Well, to be specific about it, we do not have a place, you know, like a home or anything.”

  She rotated her head back at me. Such a look she gave me I probably never deserved. “You've been here over a year and have no place to call your own? That's pathetic or you’re shaking up. Which of those are you, brood-mate?”

  “Wait.” I held my hands up. “I've only been here a couple months, tops. Time’s different here and back there.”

  She turned fully to face me. “You've been here two months and have no place to call your own? That's pathetic or you’re shaking up. Which of those are you, brood-mate?”

  Didn't sound any better, did it?

  “This place's like Vegas, a twenty-four-seven three-sixty-five kind of roller coaster.”

  “Never made it to Vegas, never rode a coaster, and I'm never going to buy what you're selling.”

  “I had a place, well I borrowed it for a while. Then the owner came out of the coma I'd put him in. Otherwise I was busy on a pilgrimage and partying,” I threw up a finger quickly, “not for fun's sake but to ingratiate me to our sworn enemy.”

  “Normally a man'd need a shovel to dig such a deep grave so quickly. You are good, Ryan.”

  “Come on. I'll introduce you to my new bestie, Wul. He'll vouch for every word I said.”

  She tilted and extended a you-first arm. “This'll be good.”

  A little way down the road, I felt it was safe to begin speaking again. “Now you're going to love this Wul guy. For a god he's a good egg.”

  “He's an egg? An egg god?”

  “No, that an expression. Wul's a good guy. One thing though, go kind of easy on him.”

  “Because he's an egg?”

  “No. Wul is not an egg. Probably never was. No, I mean he's kind of skittish around me lately.”

  “You mean he's mentally normal.”

  “No. Well, yes. Look, he sort of is under the impression that I'm the Chosen One.” I shrugged. “Naturally that kind of freaks him out.”

  “Naturally. By the way, what's a chosen one?”

  The Chosen One. Basically their god and savior. Now …”

  “Gods and powers no. Tell me these morons haven't been feeding your ego with aggrandizements. The universes aren't ready for such an overload.”

  “Someone arrived to my realm rather grumpy.”

  “Oh, now since you’re its god, this is your realm?”

  “That goal is within sight.”

  “Now I regret not listening to Toño. Coming here was a big mistake.”

  “What happened to love honor and obey, good times and bad? Aren't you supposed to be supportive of your husband?”

  “Those are human wedding vows. My people do it differently. We help our mates. Sometimes that requires a two-by-four to the head, but love is love is love.”

  “Hey, there's a cab. Let's grab it,” I said, picking up the pace.

  “That's not a cab. That's a contradiction confronting ignorance.”

  “It's .. er … here it can be both. And you're wrong. I'm looking right at it and I say it's a beautiful thing.”

  “Jon.” She pulled me to a stop, tugging at my sleeve. “In my opinion those are one and the same things.”

  “You're going to fit in real well here, babe.”

  “Let's hope not. My plan is to rescue you. We need to get home before you out us.”

  Hand to chest I exclaimed, “Before I out us? Why would you assume A) we will be outted and B) it'd be my fault?”

  “Sorry, Jon, I didn't plan this rescue as well as I could.”

  “How so?”

  “I didn't bring a mirror. This is the point where I hold it in front of your face to remind you why I said what I said.”

  At least I knew this Sapale wasn't a golem sent to fool me. That was my Sapale in the flesh. Well, you know what I mean. We availed ourselves of the ride and arrived at Blind Faith No More only a couple hours after I'd left it. I was hoping Wul hadn't wandered off. Or actually run away screaming for that matter. Him I needed. I stepped through the doors first with Sapale just behind me. The place was empty, save for Queeheg. He, the poor SOB, was sitting in a chair tha
t looked like it was about to fail due to the load he asked it to bear. He was hunched over and stared at some indistinct spot on the filthy floor.

  “I can tell he's already met you,” quipped Sapale as she pushed past me. “Hey, big fella, what's a girl got to do to get a drink around here?”

  He slowly lifted his head. “A drink it is …”

  Then he sort of noticed me.

  “By my mother's love'a me spare me, Ryanmax. I didn'a e’er cross you. Ya knows that, right?”

  “I'll remove the words has met you and substitute knows you. You are the singular man in forever who could get a troll like that to grovel like a beaten dog.” That wife of mine was on quite the roll. A real comedian.

  “Queeheg, seriously, no problema. You and me, we're friends,” I tried to reassure him.

  “I let that worm Wul leave. I told's him a'not to, but he said there was a conclave just called and he a'had'a. I swear I tried a'stop 'im.”

  “A conclave? I didn't hear about that,” I responded. “Why aren't you going? They're mandatory.”

  “Course'n I know, but weighed again’ the very real prospect'a insulting da Chosen One, I elects to hang back in case'a you returns like you's have. My reservations turned out to be validated, don't ya sees?”

  “You really know how to pick 'em, don't you, Ryan?” snarked my eternal mate.

  “Where's the conclave?” I asked Queeheg, who, by the way, was now on both knees wringing his hands like an old woman in church.

  “Whe … ah, it's a test ya be givin' me to measure by weight my fidelity?” He did his best to nod approvingly.

  Seriously? I was about ready to change professions, become a dirty-water hot-dog peddler and not a hero of whatever the hell I was heretofore a hero of. My head swam in the strangeness that reality became when I messed with it. I needed a vacation, maybe a sabbatical. Those are typically longer. I needed time, lots of time, to vacuum out my head.

  “Yeah, it's a test.” I slapped the butt of my palm against my forehead. “Think I forgot or something?”

  “I don'ts think anything, great one.”

  That I truly believed. “Let’s all three go to the conclave, shall we?”

  “By your whim or wish, Chosen One.” Queeheg staggered to his feet and went to lock up.