To their left stood a monumental sculpture of a nude woman, her outstretched arms reaching to the heavens, her flesh pillowy and marbled pink—save for strands of cream and crimson where the stone conferred imperfection. James yearned to touch her skin. She gazed upward, eyes lazily fixed on a location neither here nor there, caught between worlds. Both statues stood upon large bases under which black, gaping maws tunneled to unknown destinations.
Hundreds of thick, silver chains wrapped a golden lock embedded within the chamber door’s two closed halves. A mere lock—a sliver of stone—a paltry partition divided them from whatever slept on the other side. Assembled around this immense clasp—and masterfully intertwined into the gears and mechanisms—swam an array of translucent conduits, their cavities sticky with fresh blood, which coursed into the round lock as arteries feed a beating heart. A barely audible thump-thump, thump-thump accompanied the blood’s movement.
James swiveled to glance at the chamber elevator. Its open doors yawned wide and its stone eyes now gazed high above. The chamber had bewitched the elevator, as well, James was sure.
“Don’t move,” Trevor said.
James turned back to see what had alarmed Trevor. His heart skipped a beat and his throat constricted.
An old man stood before the locked chamber doors. He wore flowing, midnight blue garments with layers of sleeves that touched the floor, flowing in all directions from his feet. Upon his wrinkled head sat a rimless conical hat, stiff and erect and almost comical: it careened upward, nearly doubling his height. From his chin sprouted a long white goatee that fell to his chest. His eyes darkened when they met James’.
He spoke in an unintelligible tongue—raspy, mumbled and indecipherable—then transitioned into Japanese.
“Anata dare?” the man said.
James stood speechless. His companions were likewise silent. The old man cleared his throat and tried again.
“You dare threaten the sanctity of the Gods’ pact with the slovenly human race? I, Amida Nyorai, abhor such treachery.”
James leaned to Trevor, “I thought you said the chamber was sealed.”
“Shut up, James. This is bad,” Trevor said.
“Well great—now you don’t even know what to do. I suppose this is it then?” James said.
Trevor opened his mouth, then closed it again and shrugged.
An overwhelming presence filled the chamber. The air crackled with an electric charge.
“Am I faced with babes?” Amida said. “Surely you’ve come to defeat me. I beg you to try.”
“You are faced with champions,” Olivia said.
James turned, realizing belatedly that Olivia had let go of his arm. Something about her manner sent shivers up James’ spine—her countenance had transformed—she looked as though she carried a grave weight. Her eyes shone with glowing, violet light.
“Olivia? Your eyes…” James said.
Amida studied her as she took several steps toward him.
“So, this is who Anzabar sends. Clever…clever indeed,” Amida said. “But not enough!”
Colette yelped and floated up off the ground. Amida pointed at a space above them, dragging Colette as though she hung from a string.
“Colette!” James said.
James raged, but it was more than rage—an unfamiliar emotion drove the anger. His footing softened, his legs wobbled and the world spun. An unbearable pressure built in his skull, and he gripped his head with both hands. But before his head burst open, the pressure dissipated, replaced with an influx of energy. He dropped to his knees and held his hands in front of his face, turning them before his eyes. A scintillating aura outlined his skin—a coating of purple and yellow flames over his entire body. He looked to Olivia and Trevor—they wore the same otherworldly glow.
Trevor was on the ground as well. Their eyes met.
He sees it, too.
Amida laughed.
“Oh, I like this one. She is most delicious,” he said, as Colette writhed and whimpered in the air.
“Help,” Colette said between gasps.
James bounced to his feet and ran at Amida. The God deflected him with a gesture.
“Fool! You believe yourself worthy to face me? Allow me to enjoy myself,” Amida said, spreading Colette’s legs and flipping up her skirt. The old God squealed, delighted.
James skidded toward the tunnel beneath the skeleton. As he got closer, he noticed a drastic change in the machinery covering the chamber door. Before, he’d seen only a writhing snake-pit of gears, but now various spurs—helical and face gears illuminated in bright scarlet, vermillion and gold—twinkled as shining stars among the other machinery. He felt compelled to touch them—to interrupt them.
As though rehearsed, Olivia shouted, “After me!” and pursued Amida. He attempted to wave her aside, but his power had no effect on her. He raised his eyebrows. She moved in to strike.
Trevor and James nodded to each other, running past Amida toward the door. James swiped at the gear closest to him. As his hand neared, his aura reached out and intertwined with the purple-gold glow. The gear stopped turning and a sucking whoosh sounded from one of the blood conduits. It ceased pumping.
Amida staggered and Colette dropped to the floor.
“What are you doing?” Amida said.
Trevor wasted no time in placing his hand over a rapidly spinning helical gear. His aura enmeshed itself with the glowing mechanism, and it slowed and then stopped, followed by another conduit and another.
James glanced over his shoulder. Amida’s eyes went wide and he grimaced, though he recovered in time to dodge Olivia’s next attack. She instead ran to the seal and set about disabling the remaining glowing mechanisms with James and Trevor. With every expired conduit, Amida weakened, an invisible force striking him down. Finally, he flopped onto the ground.
They’d disabled all but one gear, which Olivia now had the honor of crippling. As the gear expired, they turned on Amida.
He lay face down.
He did not move.
Olivia approached.
A shift in the gears startled James. A frantic commotion of clangs and bangs rattled through the chamber door’s surface like a line of tipping dominos. The topmost silver chain on the lock snapped, and then the chain beneath it split, and the next, until all of the chains had burst from the seal.
James threw a horrified look at Trevor and Olivia.
They threw it back.
“What did we just do?” James said.
Amida stirred, and a high-pitched laughter filled the chamber. He pulled himself to his feet, lips pulled far from his teeth in a mad grin.
“You broke the seal! I am flesh! I am bone! My power has returned!”
For James, time stopped.
The room, the occupants, the chamber door, the statues, all dulled—their color withdrawn. Dreary grey replaced them and a fog slaked into and throughout the vestibule.
James’ heart raced.
Frozen before him, adhered to the floor as wax figures, Amida and his fellows displayed stiff, wild expressions.
He blinked, blinked again, squinted at a conspicuous chunk of distant fog. The mist curled and coagulated around an invisible entity far from him. It moved to James, forming the broad outline of a gargantuan man, eight feet tall and wide as a mountain.
The man’s visage mingled the celestial with flesh, the strong chin and proud posture exuding a quiet nobility. His words crashed on James and broke his stupor.
“You and your companions have done well. But now you must end this. Amida is vulnerable—for the moment. The seal is broken and the world’s future is at stake. Amida has transitioned from encased spirit to earthly flesh—though his powers are restored, so is his mortality. Take this,” he said and handed James a golden dagger.
Airy, balanced metal cooled James’ hands. The blade looked razor sharp.
“Who…” James stammered. “Who are you?”
“All in due time. Go—strike. End this.�
�
Time resumed.
The fog dissipated. Energy rushed into the frozen bodies, into the icy room. Amida continued cackling. Olivia and Trevor remained transfixed, horrified.
James imagined himself as a gun, firing the knife into Amida’s heart. A moment later, Amida slumped onto his shoulder, and the dagger in James’ hand was slick and warm with blood. His knees buckled—splotches of impossible white sparkled in his vision. Amida fell prostrate as James shoved him to the floor in a valiant, final effort before collapsing onto his back. He turned his head toward Amida’s limp body and watched the life extinguish from the God’s bewildered eyes.
Echoes and hollow fields of sound drummed at his ears.
“James!” he heard from afar. “James!”
“Can you hear me? James!”
Blackness shrouded his eyes and soon he heard nothing.
James awoke propped against a wall. His head and neck ached. Blurred shapes wavered into focus.
Olivia. Trevor.
Colette.
Olivia and Trevor knelt over Colette’s body.
Olivia punched Colette’s chest.
No—No!
James rose, wobbled and grabbed a wall to hold himself up. Trevor ran to his side and helped him to Olivia and Colette. Olivia turned to them, her radiant, brown eyes red with grief and disgust.
“She’s gone…” Olivia said. “I…I can’t believe it.”
A numbness sapped all emotion from James’ heart. He struggled to breathe.
Colette’s blonde hair draped the floor, her porcelain skin still feigning life though her lips—once plump and cherry-red—had lost their vigor.
“I am sorry for your loss,” a man said.
James jumped, startled. Trevor got to his feet.
“Who’s there?” he said.
Behind them, the towering chamber doors lurched and a bald, square-jawed giant of a man appeared between them, forcing them open with massive arms. He wore a long, pearl toga, clasped with golden leaves and secured with a gold belt around his waist. Leather sandals protected his feet.
“You…” James said. “You gave me the dagger!”
“My friends, how long have I awaited this moment?” the man said, wiping tears from his cheek. His olive skin shone in the golden light. “Greetings to you! I am Anzabar Damascus, god killer and defender of humanity.”
For a moment, Trevor’s mouth hung open, his face pallid. Then he knelt down, bowing before Anzabar. As though Olivia had anticipated Trevor’s prostration, she too bent down and bowed her head. A sudden compulsion weighed on James, and he knelt as well.
“Rise, my friends. Though the blood is strong within you, we are of different times. Alas, we must seek solidarity, old and new, in order to overcome the obstacles ahead,” Anzabar said.
They rose to their feet.
“Blood?” James said.
“Yes, blood. You have no idea how special you are and how fortuitous an event your reunion is.”
“Reunion? But we’ve never met—prior to today that is,” Olivia said.
“True—your mortal forms have never met. Once, however, your ancestors were dear to me, and it is their blood that unites you…unites us.
“In the age of old, when these vile Gods ruled over humanity,” Anzabar said, frowning on Amida’s corpse, “…there existed a sect of people who remained close to magic. Though the powers they possessed were nothing like those wielded by the Gods, they were key to the Gods’ downfall and allowed for the new age’s dawn—the modern age. The age where magic no longer polarizes the strong and weak.”
Now we’re polarized by wealth and greed. Better than magic, I suppose.
“Each of you is descend from a line of oracles—select warriors with the ability to detect weakness in the Gods, and without whom I would have failed in securing the remaining seven deities. It was through our teamwork that we prevailed. For this, I swear my allegiance to you.”
Goose pimples trembled on James’ forearms.
“It was you who interfered with the ritual,” Trevor said.
“I merely guided you toward this outcome. I am overwhelmed with joy at your success.”
“So, the writing we encountered? That was you? And the gears? You alerted us to which of those would unlock Amida’s seal?”
“I wrote to you, yes, and I also convinced Arikura Fukushima to help you—”
“Wait, that zombie girl was helping us?” James said.
“But of course—why do you think she attacked Horace Mann, the ritual’s Loki? He was chaos—a demon encased in flesh—bent on murdering all of you. Trevor, thank you for freeing her. It was a righteous deed.”
Trevor smirked.
“Dear God,” Olivia said.
“I would have provided more assistance had my powers been stronger—even now I am weak. However, your abilities enabled you to see which chamber gears would not only unlock the seal, but place Amida into a vulnerable, mortal state. If anyone else had freed him, the remaining Gods would also have been released—and the world lost.”
Trevor stared, wide-eyed, at Anzabar.
“I…I don’t understand. You are a legend. Scarcely more than a myth! We’ve annals of your feats, but…how? How are you here?” Trevor said.
“Ah, yes, it must be difficult to stand face to face,” Anzabar said and paused, closing his eyes and waving his hands over the air in front of him. “But we have little time. A group of hostiles is traveling in this direction. I must hurry.”
He opened his eyes and continued. “Over the millennia, I held captive the Gods, allowing them to feed on my soul, sedating their malicious desires. This sacrifice I gave to the world, so that humanity might live free of their rule. However, once the rituals resumed, my power slowly restored, and the reckoning began.” The giant took a deep breath and sighed.
“Understand this,” he said. “My intent has never been to relinquish humanity’s freedom to these creatures. I want these Gods gone. Forever. They are an anomaly—an unjust result of chaos—of trial and error on the part of the universe.”
Anzabar let his gaze linger on each of them, then said, “Do you believe yourselves here by accident? For many thousands of years, I have attempted to influence each ritual’s participant selection and bring together three of your kind. Today, I finally succeeded. Now do you understand why this moment is integral to humanity’s future?”
“Um…are you suggesting that this isn’t over?” James said.
Anzabar laughed.
“Far from it, my boy! We have won today’s battle, but the war is undecided. Now the scale is tipped. Amida was weak among the pantheon, but his loss will be felt and the stability of the remaining blood seals weakened.”
James’ shoulders slumped. “I…I don’t know if I can take anymore of this. Not today,” he said.
“Steady yourself. Time is precious, but you will have the opportunity to recuperate. It is only when a God requests a ritual that they may be challenged, and I believe it will be a while yet before such a request occurs.”
“How are we to help? Surely we won’t be selected for another ritual,” Olivia said.
“Clever girl,” Anzabar said. “Trevor, you must use your influence in this organization to secure your selections.”
Trevor chuckled. “What influence? As you said, there’s a group of soldiers headed here and I’m on the wrong side of their guns,” he said.
“Serendipity has a way of assuaging such troubles. You may find allies rising to your side,” Anzabar said, smiling.
Trevor pursed his lips.
James leaned into Olivia. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of these rituals,” and then turned back to Anzabar. “What if we decline?”
“You are free to do so. But now that the plan is set in motion, your unwillingness to participate will invariably result in the world’s demise.”
“So, we have no choice?” James said. “Unless we’re complete asshats, that is?”
; “I am unfamiliar with this asshat you speak of, but if it is a derogatory term, then yes,” Anzabar said glaring at James, “I would say it is true,”
“Great. Well, I’m in then. It’s not like I had a long life ahead of me or anything.”
Olivia punched James in the arm.
“I’m kidding! Really, just because the world’s future is at stake everyone gets all up in a ruffle…” James said.
“You can count on me as well,” Olivia said.
“And me,” Trevor said.
“Good. And thank you—I often forget how removed this generation is from the atrocities of the Old Age,” Anzabar said, furrowing his brow, apparently losing himself in thought as he stared blankly into the distance. Then as if provoked by a faraway sound, he continued. “Your powers have awakened and will only grow. If we are to defeat the remaining six deities, we must become stronger. When you leave here, you must train the skills granted to you by your ancestors. The technique is simple,” Anzabar said and demonstrated a low-humming chant combined with a succession of awkward hand positions.
“Practice this as long as you can and stop when the world’s light grows unbearable.”
“Did you get all that?” James said, looking at Olivia.
She nodded.
“Good—can we review later?”
“If we get out of here? Absolutely,” she said.
“I have so many questions—” Trevor said.
Anzabar raised his hand and cast a gentle gaze on Trevor.
“Unfortunately, our time has come to an end. I promise we shall meet again. Your questions must wait,” Anzabar said. “And you may want to duck—now.”
They dropped to the floor as a string of bullets whizzed overhead, chipping away pieces of stone edifices and statues.
“Freeze!” a man said.
Armored men in black and red repelled down the elevator cavern, touching the chamber floor in a triangular formation.
“Hold your fire! We mean no harm!” Trevor said from the ground, hands on his head.
“On your knees now! Hands where I can see them!” the man said.
Modern Rituals Page 24
