by Tim Waggoner
Lena swallowed once, but then she managed a smile. “Of course.”
“Excellent!” Paeon looked at Sam, his intense blue eyes seeming to glitter like chips of ice. “And have you come to a decision?”
Time to roll the dice, Sam thought. If he wanted to stay close to Lena, he was going to have to accept the god’s “gift.” He just hoped he’d be able to think clearly afterward. Lena still seemed able to think for herself, so with any luck, he should be able to as well.
“I’d like to join you—if you’ll have me,” he said.
Paeon’s smile became warm and welcoming. “It would be our honor, Sam.”
He held out his caduceus, and it began to glow with soft yellow light as he extended it toward Sam. When the tip of the rod touched his chest, energy exploded throughout his body. Electric fire raced along his nerve endings, his senses became heightened, and he felt stronger and more alert than he ever had before. He felt like he could take off right now and compete in a triathlon without breaking a sweat or breathing hard when he finished.
Paeon pulled the caduceus away from Sam and frowned.
“You must’ve led quite a dangerous life, Sam. Your body showed signs that you sustained numerous injuries over the years, many of them quite serious.”
Paeon and Lena looked at him, both clearly expecting an answer.
Sam was having trouble concentrating. He felt so good it was almost like being on some kind of super stimulant, and he thought, I bet this was how the Underwoods felt when the Lord of the Hunt granted them strength. Then again, he had a hard time imagining the Underwoods had ever felt this great. Paeon and Lena were still waiting for him to answer, and he forced himself to concentrate.
“I was into extreme sports when I was younger,” he said, “and I got banged up a lot.” He waited to see if either Paeon or Lena would challenge his explanation, but it seemed to satisfy them both. The god put his hand on Sam’s shoulder then.
“Well, you’re good as new now, Sam. Better, even.” Paeon grinned.
Sam couldn’t help it. He grinned back.
Before any of them could say anything more, an inhuman shriek split the air. The three of them turned to see a nine-foot-tall humanoid lizard striding down the street toward them, followed by several dozen men and women. The creature had a pair of overlarge rubies in place of eyes, and they pulsed with crimson energy.
Paeon sighed. “Excuse me, Sam. I have some work to attend to.”
As Paeon moved off to accept this latest challenge, Sam found himself praying that the god—his god—would be victorious.
* * *
Dean returned to Doughnutz, got in the Impala, and used his phone to get directions to TechEdge. It wasn’t very far away, less than a five-minute drive. But it took him at least twice the time because there were so many people out walking in the streets. It was as if the entire population of Corinth had left their homes in the middle of the night to participate in the Apotheosis. Maybe they had, he thought. Whatever power was ultimately at work here could have affected the whole town by now, and as events were moving rapidly toward a climax, every man, woman, and child was being compelled to take part. Hell, it was even possible that it was happening to him and Sam, too. They thought they were working to stop the Apotheosis, but what if they really had become part of it, like everyone else in Corinth? What if their actions were actually helping to make the Apotheosis happen somehow? It was a damn scary thought, and one that Dean didn’t want to examine too closely, so he continued driving and did his best to make his way through the crowds without running over anyone.
When he finally reached TechEdge, he parked in the lot of the business next door, a discount furniture store called Cheap Seats. He figured there were a couple ways he could play this. He could go around the back of the TechEdge building and try to sneak in through a rear entrance or maybe the loading dock. Then he could make his way into the store and try to locate the Mythmaker. The problem with that was a business like TechEdge would have surveillance cameras, and if Adamantine’s followers were monitoring them, they’d see him coming. That didn’t mean he couldn’t get in, of course. He’d gotten past more than one security system in his time, but it would make getting inside trickier. Option Number Two was to walk up to TechEdge’s main entrance and present himself as a new worshipper eager to join the ranks of Adamantine’s happy little minions. Both Adamantine and Paeon had kicked their god-killing-slash-recruiting drives into high gear, and it would seem natural enough that a new follower would show up on TechEdge’s doorstep tonight. This option should get him inside easily enough, but it would be harder to find the Mythmaker then because everyone would be watching him. He’d have to wait until they’d gotten used to his presence so he could slip away and look for her. Still, it seemed like his best bet.
He got out of the Impala and headed across the parking lot toward TechEdge, still carrying his gun tucked against the small of his back. No way was he going in unarmed. He would just have to hope that Adamantine’s followers weren’t on the ball enough to search any new recruits who entered the building, and if they were—well, he’d burn that bridge when he came to it.
The lights were on inside the building, and he could see a pair of worshippers standing by the front door, keeping watch on the parking lot. They saw him coming, so he smiled and gave what he hoped was a friendly wave. They opened the door as he approached, and waited for him. The guards—a middle-aged man and a young woman—looked like ordinary people. They were obviously cautious, but neither carried themselves as if they’d had military or police training. That was good. Civilians were easier to fool.
Dean kept the smile on his face as he drew near.
“This is Adamantine’s place, right?” he said.
The guards looked at each other for a second, but neither replied. Dean went on.
“I’m here to join the flock, or whatever you call it. I caught her act in town, and I’ve got to say, she made quite an impression on me… the electricity, and that whole silver thing she’s got going on. That’s what I call a god, you know what I’m saying?”
Dean had reached the guards, and they stood shoulder to shoulder in the doorway, blocking him from entering. They looked at him for a long moment, and then the woman said, “You’re not Bound.”
Takes one to know one, I guess. “Adamantine was kind of busy. I guess she figured she’d get around to Binding me when she could.”
The man frowned. “She would never be too busy to gather up another lost soul and make him part of our family.”
A true believer, Dean thought. Just what I need. “I don’t know what the basic procedure is around here, pal. All I can tell you is Adamantine ran into a god called Paeon, they made a date to meet here at dawn, and then they both beat feet to get ready for whatever’s going to happen here. I figured if this is where the action’s going to be, then this is where I should come. But if you don’t want me…”
He started to turn away, but the woman grabbed his shoulder before he could take a single step.
“No, please! Come in and join us!” she said. “There is much to be done!”
Dean smiled at her. “Well, if you insist…”
* * *
Once Dean was inside TechEdge and had a chance to look over Adamantine’s “army,” one thing became very clear to him. No way in hell were any of these people even close to being soldiers. There were well over a hundred of them in the store—a mix of genders, races, ages, and physical types—but they all had one thing in common: none of them looked like they’d ever been in a fight before. Hell, most of them looked as if they’d surrender the first time someone gave them a harsh look. Still, word of the upcoming battle had spread swiftly, and Adamantine’s followers were doing their best to arm themselves with whatever they could find in the store—scissors, box cutters, even pens, and when there weren’t enough of those to go around, they improvised, dismantling electronic devices and pulling apart display shelves for anything that they could gri
p in their hands and use to hit or cut an opponent with. He admired their determination, but he knew Adamantine had never intended the poor sonsofbitches to be warriors. Their real purpose in the final battle was to serve as energy reserves for her, living batteries that she could drain whenever she needed a power boost.
He was tempted to try to explain the reality of their situation to them. If he could convince them they were being used, maybe some of them would get the hell out of here before things went straight down the toilet. Even if he only managed to save a few lives that way, it would be worth it. But if he did that, he’d reveal to the others that he wasn’t a true believer like them, and they might decide to try out their makeshift weapons on him before the real fighting got started. It would be better if he could find the Mythmaker and somehow find a way to short circuit the whole Apotheosis. That way, he could save everyone here.
Everyone was so caught up in preparing for war that no one paid any attention to him. He pretended to search for a weapon, walking up and down the aisles, occasionally picking up a laptop or a game console, looking it over, then putting it back before moving on. While he did this, he thought, If I were Adamantine, where would I hide someone as important as the Mythmaker? There were only a few places he could think of: the warehouse, the managers’ offices, and the staff break room. He made his way toward the back of the store where the stereo equipment was displayed. Tucked in one corner was an open entrance to a small hallway, and when Dean was sure no one was looking in his direction, he walked inside.
The first things he saw were doors for the men’s and women’s restrooms, with a water fountain located on the opposite wall. He continued on and came to an office. The door was shut, but there was a glass window which provided a view of the cramped space within. Desk, filing cabinet, a couple chairs, but no Mythmaker. The hallway ended in two branching corridors, one right, one left. Dean flipped a mental coin, headed left, and when he saw the two men standing in front of a closed door, he knew he’d found the break room.
Both of the men were in their thirties—one lean, one a bit overweight—but from the measured way they gazed at him as he approached, Dean knew they both knew how to handle themselves in a fight. He didn’t think they were veterans or police officers, probably just local toughs who liked to duke it out in a bar parking lot with whoever had pissed them off that night. But that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous in their own way.
“Hey, fellas. Why aren’t you out there getting ready with everybody else?”
The heavier guard—whose head and lower face were covered with black stubble—scowled and said, “Who the hell are you?”
Dean wanted to punch the jackass, but instead he gave the man a smile that he hoped didn’t look too strained. “My name’s Dean, but you can call me New Guy. I just got here not too long ago.”
“So why should we give a damn?” the leaner man said. He had greasy brown hair and a scraggly goatee.
So much for everyone being part of one big happy family, Dean thought. “No reason. But I’m surprised to find you two back here. I mean, you guys are the only ones I’ve seen in this place who look like they can fight. And they’ve got you standing guard?”
The two men exchanged glances then turned to look at Dean once more.
“It’s an important job,” Stubble-Head said.
“Yeah,” Goatee added, sounding more than a little defensive.
Dean held up his hands in a peacemaking gesture. “Never said it wasn’t. But everyone out there is preparing for some kind of big battle with another god’s followers and, just between the three of us, none of them look like they know what the hell they’re doing. They’re only going to get themselves killed and let Adamantine down.”
“Aw, they’re not that bad,” Goatee said. But then he looked at Stubble-Head and added, “Are they?”
“They could really use someone who knows what it’s like to fight,” Dean said. “You can’t have good soldiers without good generals, am I right?”
“What, you mean us?” Stubble-Head said.
“Why not?” Dean said. “You guys look like you know how to handle yourselves a hell of a lot better than everyone out there.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder.
Stubble-Head puffed out his chest. “Damn straight.” He turned to his companion. “C’mon, Earl. Let’s get out there and whip those wimps into shape.”
“But, Larry, we’re supposed to stay on guard until Adamantine comes back,” Earl said. He sounded nervous, and Dean didn’t blame him. He imagined Adamantine took an extremely dim view of those followers of her who disobeyed her orders.
“I can fill in for you guys,” Dean said. “It’s not like I’m doing anything else right now. Besides, it’ll make me feel like I’m contributing, you know?”
Earl still looked doubtful, so Dean decided to sweeten the pot.
“Look, if Adamantine gives you any grief, you can just blame it on the new guy.”
Earl smiled with relief. “Well… okay. I was getting bored standing around here anyway.”
Larry and Earl left then, and Dean took up a position in front of the door. The two men gave him one last glance before turning the corner, and Dean nodded and gave them an informal salute. He waited a few moments, and when he was confident they were out of earshot, he turned, took hold of the knob, found it unlocked, and opened the door.
He stepped inside and saw a young woman sitting up on a couch. She stretched, yawned, and said, “Where the hell am I?”
THIRTEEN
Dean gave the woman—whose name was Renee—a quick rundown on what was happening in Corinth. Long before he was finished, he realized how insane it all sounded. Hell, it even sounded crazy to him, and given the kind of life he led, he ate, breathed, and slept crazy twenty-four-seven. But to his surprise, Renee accepted his explanation without question.
“This is going to sound weird, but the whole time I was painting those pictures, I had the feeling that something more was going on—something bigger, you know? But bringing gods to life…?” She shook her head. “Talk about life imitating art.”
“And it’s not over yet,” Dean said. He explained that Adamantine would soon be returning and that when dawn arrived, another god named Paeon would show up to fight her. He told her she, as the Mythmaker, was supposed to play an important role in this battle, but he had no idea what that role was.
“Mythmaker, huh? That title’s a lot more impressive than ‘Struggling Art Student.’ But what would they need me for? I’ve already brought them to life.”
“Like I said, I don’t know why they need you, just that they do. Or at least think they do. Whatever the truth, the most important thing is to get you out of here before sunrise. If we can keep you away from them, there’s a chance—”
“I’m glad to see you are awake, Renee.”
Dean turned to see Adamantine standing in the doorway, Geoffrey in the hall behind her.
Adamantine fixed her baleful blue-white gaze on Dean and smiled.
“Who is your new boyfriend?”
* * *
“Getting close to dawn,” Sam said.
Lena glanced up at the sky. “Yes. I should call those who remained at my practice and tell them to start heading for TechEdge.” She took a phone from her jacket pocket and made the call.
Paeon and his followers—who now numbered well past a hundred—were gathered in a small park. Fires had been started in a couple trash cans, and people stood around them, more for the emotional comfort created by their cheery glow than from any real need to warm themselves. Ever since Paeon had enhanced him, Sam hadn’t felt the temperature at all, and he knew it was the same for everyone else here. Paeon walked among his people, chatting with them, laying his hands on their shoulders, smiling and laughing. Occasionally a new person approached him, and he touched the caduceus to them, transforming and Binding them. Since Sam had joined Paeon’s followers, the god had bested a half-dozen challengers, but they hadn’t seen any other gods fo
r the better part of an hour, and Sam was beginning to think that there were no other gods left—except for Adamantine, of course. The thought was exciting. It wouldn’t be long now.
Lena finished her call, disconnected, then put her phone away.
“They’ll meet us at TechEdge, and they’ll make sure to let everyone else know, too.”
“Everyone else?” Sam asked.
“Not all of Paeon’s followers accompanied him tonight or remained at my practice…” She paused, then corrected herself. “I mean his temple. Many of them went home to tell their loved ones about Paeon and what he can do for his followers. I assume a number of Adamantine’s people did the same. My people will spread the word that the Apotheosis will soon reach its culmination, and everyone will converge on TechEdge at the appointed time.”
The part of Sam that belonged to Paeon felt only joy at the thought of all those people coming together to support their god as the final battle began. But the part of Sam that remained free, that was a hunter with the last name of Winchester, was appalled by the number of followers on both sides who would soon be gathering at TechEdge. There would be hundreds of them, maybe more. Hell, the whole damn town might show up.
“Aren’t you a little… concerned?” Sam asked.
Lena gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“I know that we all heal super-fast now, but just how serious is this fight going to be? Are people going to bring weapons? Is everyone going to try to kill each other?”
Lena didn’t answer right away, and Sam knew that she hadn’t thought this far ahead. Maybe Paeon’s influence had kept her from considering the ramifications of the final battle, but from the look on her face, she was considering them now.
