by Tim Waggoner
“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she admitted. “We will just have to trust in Paeon, won’t we?”
Sam wanted to shout at her, to tell her she was a doctor and that it was against her medical oath to condone the slaughter to come. But when she spoke Paeon’s name a feeling of well-being washed over him, and it carried away his doubts and fears, leaving him with nothing but happiness. He was looking forward to the battle to come, and he hoped that he would serve Paeon well.
Paeon was talking with a group of children, squatting on his heels to put himself on their level, when he stopped and cocked his head, as if he were listening to something only he could hear. He looked up at the sky then, and a wide smile spread across his face.
He stood and in a loud voice announced, “It is time.”
Everyone in the park cheered—Lena included—but no one cheered louder than Sam.
* * *
Adamantine didn’t look any different than the last time Dean had seen her, but she now emanated such strong waves of power that it was difficult to see her clearly. The air around her rippled, like the distortion caused by heat waves rising from a road in summertime.
She raised her gauntlet, pressed it against Dean’s chest, and a skein of electricity flowed outward from the metal to briefly envelop his body. His jaw clenched and his muscles contracted tight, but it was over in a second. The electricity winked out, and Adamantine pulled the gauntlet away from him. Dean couldn’t see it, but both of his eyes were now a solid silver.
“I don’t know what advantages the power you carry will give you, but you will take it with you into battle and use it in my name. Yes?”
Dean looked at Renee. She recoiled from his silver-eyed gaze, but the sight of her horror meant nothing to him. All that mattered was doing his god’s bidding.
“Yes, my lady,” he said.
* * *
Dawn pinked the eastern sky as Paeon, Lena, and Sam strode into TechEdge’s lot, a hundred or more of Paeon’s followers behind them. Dozens of cars, trucks, vans, and motorcycles were parked off to one side, and people stood around the vehicles, waiting for the arrival of their god. Many of them carried guns, while others held knives, baseball bats, tire irons, hammers, or various makeshift clubs. More vehicles were parked on the opposite side of the lot, but their drivers were nowhere in sight. Sam assumed the cars and trucks belonged to followers of Adamantine who had come to join the party. He presumed they were inside TechEdge, waiting for the fun to start.
Sheriff Deacon walked up next to Sam. He carried a pump-action shotgun and was grinning ear to ear.
“Is this a great day or what?” he said. “I am so glad I joined Team Paeon. We are going to kick some major ass today, am I right?” The sheriff raised his voice on these last few words, and the people close by let out cheers and shouts of agreement.
Sam wanted to smile, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He had no doubt Paeon would be victorious this day, and that was a wonderful thing, but he couldn’t help thinking about all the damage Paeon’s followers could do with their weapons, and from the unhappy look on Lena’s face, she was thinking the same thing. Sam found himself thinking of the Underwoods then, of how they’d justified feeding him and Dean to the ancient Lord of the Hunt as part of accomplishing some greater good. What was the good here? Lena believed—or maybe just hoped—that Paeon would use his powers to transform the human race into a stronger, healthier species. But if the god truly was a healer, would he be leading his army into battle like this, knowing full well that any number of his people might die before the fight was over? No, a true healer would refuse to fight, or at least refuse to involve anyone else in his battle. Paeon wasn’t a physician; he only looked like one on the outside. Inside, he was just another monster out for all the power he could get.
And with that thought, Sam felt the last vestiges of Paeon’s control fade from his mind. He still felt stronger and more energized than he ever had before in his life, but he was able to think for himself again. He wondered why no one else seemed able to throw off Paeon’s control, and he chalked it up to his experience as a hunter. He’d lost count of how many times supernatural entities had attempted to mess with his mind, and he supposed that over the years he’d developed if not an immunity to mind control, at least a resistance.
He leaned closer to Lena and spoke softly in her ear. “Lena, you know what’s about to happen is wrong. You’re a doctor. You can’t let this continue.”
She didn’t look at him as she answered, but her mouth tightened, and he could hear the tension in her voice. “It’s too late. Can’t you feel it? It’s like we’re being swept along in a tidal wave. This is going to happen no matter what we do. It has to.”
Despite his plea to her, Sam knew she was right. This wasn’t just him and Dean inside a spooky abandoned house hunting down a lone monster or trying to banish a ghost. They were dealing with two gods who were followed by hundreds of people, all of them fulfilling their roles in a cosmic cycle that could well be as old as time. You might as well try to derail an oncoming train by parking a child’s tricycle on the tracks. They had to do something to stop it, but what?
Paeon waved to his followers who’d been waiting, and they moved forward to join the main mass of his force. United, they continued marching toward TechEdge’s main entrance, Paeon leading them. Sam thought furiously, desperately trying to come up with some kind of plan—and he found himself thinking about the Underwoods again, or more precisely, about his and Dean’s fight with the Lord of the Hunt.
* * *
“You ready?”
The woman who asked the question was Gayle, the paramedic he and Sam had spoken to when they’d first arrived in Corinth. Her eyes—like the eyes of everyone inside the store with the exception of Renee—were pure silver. Dean didn’t ask her how she’d come to Bind herself to Adamantine. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they followed the same god.
“You know it,” he said.
He hadn’t drawn his .45, and the rest of Adamantine’s followers had gotten rid of the makeshift weapons they’d scavenged from the store. They no longer needed such things, not after Adamantine had shared a portion of her vast power with them. Dean flexed his fingers and tiny tendrils of electricity coiled around them. He smiled. This was going to be fun.
The aisles of TechEdge were crowded with men, women, and children, all of them silver-eyed, all of them just as eager as Dean for the battle to begin. The only two people who didn’t seem excited were Geoffrey and Renee. They stood next to Adamantine by the store’s entrance, but while Adamantine gazed through the glass at Paeon and his army, Geoffrey only looked at Renee. Her wrists had been bound with a length of computer cable, and Geoffrey had hold of her arm to keep her from trying to escape. The man had a sorrowful expression on his face, as if he was worried about her, and Dean supposed he couldn’t blame him. Whatever role the woman was destined to play in today’s events, he doubted she’d survive—and if she did, she sure as hell wouldn’t be the same. But that was okay. Omelets and broken eggs. Besides, if she died, she wouldn’t be the only one who did so today. War resulted in casualties, no two ways around it. The trick was to keep your side’s losses to an acceptable number.
What about the kids? If any of them die, I suppose they’ll be acceptable losses, too?
It was his voice that he heard in his mind, but it was as if another part of himself—a deeply buried part—spoke the words.
Dean stood at the front of the store, not far from Adamantine, Geoffrey, and Renee. He glanced back over his shoulder and noted how many children—from teenagers down to toddlers who could barely walk—numbered among Adamantine’s followers. He knew it was the same situation with Paeon’s people. Entire families had Bound themselves to one of the two gods, and every member had shown up today determined to do his or her best to ensure their chosen deity was victorious.
Are they here of their own free will? his other voice said. Or is it because Adamanti
ne and Paeon are forcing them to be here? And what about you? Since when do you let anyone lead you around by a leash?
This last thought galled him, and he felt anger rising. He’d been controlled too many times over the years — when he’d been turned into a soldier of Hell, when the archangel Michael had attempted to use him as a vessel, when he’d become an actual black-eyed demon—and he’d be damned if he would let it happen again. He fought back against Adamantine’s control with all his will. At first nothing happened, but then he felt a small jolt deep inside himself, and he knew the connection Adamantine had forged between them when she’d forcibly Bound him was gone. He’d done it. He was his own man again.
Through the glass windows in the front of the store, he saw that Paeon and his troops were on the move. Sam was out there somewhere, and he hoped his brother had had better luck coming up with a plan to stop this madness, because he sure as hell didn’t have one. Dean knew if he planned to try something from this end, he had only moments left to act before Adamantine commanded her worshippers to rush outside and engage the enemy. She’d ordered Geoffrey to keep Renee inside and safe until the battle was over, and if he could get to her, maybe he could—
“The time has come!” Adamantine shouted, her unearthly voice causing the entire store to shake. And then her followers—with the exception of Dean, Geoffrey, and Renee—shouted back, “In the end there shall be One!”
Time’s up, Dean thought.
Adamantine threw open the front doors and stepped out into the early morning light, electricity coruscating across both her gauntlet and her spear. Her followers pushed forward, eager to be close to their god when the fighting began, and Dean found himself pressed in on all sides by shouting men and women, their silver eyes gleaming, hands sparking with electricity. He pushed, hit, and kicked, trying to force his way free so he could get to Renee, but his efforts were in vain. There were too many people, and all he could do was let them carry him through the entrance and into the parking lot. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Geoffrey and Renee had moved out of the entrance and were now looking through a window. Renee looked scared and Geoffrey—with his new silver eyes—looked sad, and then Dean was shoved forward so hard he almost lost his balance. He knew if he went down now he’d be trampled, so he faced straight ahead and did his best to keep up with the crowd’s momentum. And then, so fast he tripped and bumped into a man ahead of him, the crowd stopped.
The first rays of dawn tinged the horizon as Paeon and Adamantine stood facing each other, their respective armies massed behind them.
“I’m gratified to see you survived to reach this point,” Adamantine said.
Paeon smiled and inclined his head to acknowledge her comment. “Did you have any doubt?”
“No,” she said. “I knew it would come down to the two of us.”
“As did I.”
“Soon it will be only one,” she said.
“As it should be. Are you ready?”
Adamantine smiled. “Since the day I was born.”
Paeon raised his caduceus and it began to glow with dark energy. Adamantine leveled her spear at him in a two-handed grip, and the electricity coursing along its length doubled in intensity. Neither god gave a visible command, but their followers cried out in fury and ran toward one another.
The battle had begun.
* * *
Lena watched in horror as Paeon’s and Adamantine’s followers began fighting. Paeon’s people moved with a speed born from the enhancements their god had gifted them with, and they struck with their weapons, acting so swiftly that Adamantine’s people didn’t have time to defend themselves. Voices cried out in pain, blood spilled, and the first wave of wounded and dead fell to the asphalt. Adamantine’s people might have been slower than Paeon’s, but their god had given them something extra-special as well. They stretched out their hands toward their enemies and bolts of crackling electricity leapt from their fingertips to strike their foes. Instead of screaming when the lightning struck, the victims’ bodies went rigid, and they began to shake all over as their nervous systems overloaded. The incredible healing abilities that Paeon had given to his worshippers struggled to throw off the effects of the electrical attacks and repair the damage done to their bodies. Some managed to recover, following up with counterattacks against their enemies, stabbing them, shooting them, or simply bashing them in the head. But others weren’t so strong, and they fell to the ground, dead, their healing capacity overwhelmed by the sheer amount of energy that had been forced into their bodies.
Lena was so shocked by the nightmarish battle taking place around her that at first she paid no attention to Paeon and Adamantine, but this was partly because the two gods stood toe-to-toe, neither moving, both frozen in place as if they were statues. Paeon’s caduceus was pressed against Adamantine’s forehead, while the tip of her spear was embedded in his left shoulder. A nimbus of energy cocooned them, a blend of the caduceus’s dark power and Adamantine’s electricity. The effect was quite beautiful in its own way, and the energy bubble continued to grow as the gods threw more and more of their power at each other. Lena hadn’t been sure what to expect when the gods started fighting, but it hadn’t been this. They weren’t really doing anything, just standing there and glaring at each other. It was nothing like the other battles between gods that she’d witnessed, but then she realized that at this point, it wasn’t about who could strike the swiftest or inflict the most damage. It was all about raw, naked power, pure and simple. Paeon and Adamantine were locked in a war of energies, and all the strength they’d claimed from the gods they’d killed, all the energy provided by the lives of those worshippers fighting around them, were their weapons now. The real battle was happening on a level that no human could hope to comprehend, and when it was over, there would be One. But the Apotheosis wouldn’t be complete then, she realized. In order to become a true immortal, the victor would have to absorb the energy of the being with the power to create gods—the Mythmaker.
Lena couldn’t let that happen. She had been wrong to help Paeon, she saw that now. He wasn’t a god; he was an inhuman thing interested only in increasing his own power, and if he became the One, he would be no better than Adamantine. In the end, there really was no difference between them. They were both monsters, and all monsters knew how to do was kill.
Fine. She was a doctor, and every doctor knew that in order to help your patient, sometimes you had to perform a little surgery.
She saw Sheriff Deacon lying on the ground less than a dozen feet from where she stood. His body was blackened and smoldering from having been electrocuted by one of Adamantine’s followers, and the sight sickened her. But it was too late to do anything to help him now. But she could put the shotgun that he still gripped in his charred hand to good use. She hurried over to his corpse, doing her best not to get caught in the combatants’ crossfire, grabbed hold of the shotgun, and yanked it out of his dead hand. He had been so badly burned that a couple of his fingers broke off like bits of charcoal, but she forced herself not to look at them. She briefly examined the shotgun. She’d never fired one before, but she’d made it through med school and residency, and she was confident she was smart enough to figure out how to operate the weapon. It was pump action, which meant there might still be shells inside, but she figured she would need all the ammunition the gun could hold. She checked the sheriff’s coat pockets for extra shells, found a couple, and loaded them into the gun. When she was finished, she looked down at the sheriff.
“I’m sorry for what happened to you. I’m going to try to make it right.”
Then she turned and headed for Paeon and Adamantine.
* * *
Dean saw Lena retrieve the dead sheriff’s shotgun and start toward the two gods, who at the moment were barely visible within the giant glowing ball of energy that surrounded them. Whatever the doctor had in mind, he knew it wasn’t going to work, and he started toward her, hoping he could intercept her before she did anything t
o get herself killed. But he only managed to take a few steps before one of Paeon’s people was suddenly standing in front of him. The man had moved so fast that at first Dean didn’t register his image, and his hands were halfway up and ready to discharge deadly bolts of electricity before he realized it was Sam.
“What’s with the silver eyes?” Sam asked, his words coming out in a rush as if his entire metabolism had been speeded up.
“Tell you later. Right now we need to stop Paeon’s priest before she makes what’s likely to be a fatal mistake.”
Sam glanced over his shoulder at the woman, who was still advancing toward the energy bubble containing the two gods, but he quickly turned his attention back to Dean.
“You’ll have to handle it. I need to find the Mythmaker.”
Dean had hunted alongside his brother far too long to question him in the heat of battle. Besides, he didn’t have time for talk if he was going to have any chance to help Lena.
“Geoffrey’s holding her captive inside TechEdge. Be careful, though. He’s been transformed into a living battery like the rest of us, so he’s—”
“Got it. Thanks.” Sam sped off, weaving his way between warring worshippers as he ran toward the TechEdge building.
“You’re welcome, Flash,” Dean muttered, and then started running—at a much slower velocity—toward the shotgun-toting doctor.
* * *
Geoffrey watched from the safety of the building as Adamantine and Paeon clashed, their respective armies fighting around them. As Adamantine’s priest, he should’ve felt tremendous excitement upon seeing the final stages of the Apotheosis begin, but all he felt was empty inside.
“Why do you do it?” Renee asked. “Follow her, I mean.”
Geoffrey turned away from the window to look at her. If he and Ellen had been lucky enough to have had a child, she would’ve been this girl’s age. Maybe a little older. He couldn’t believe that such an ordinary-looking person possessed the ability to imagine gods into existence. Oh, she was pretty, but she didn’t look like someone who had the power of creation itself surging inside her. All the gods she’d willed into existence—at least those that he’d seen—looked like gods. They were more than human—larger than life and gifted with extraordinary power. But this average, unassuming young woman had within her a power far stronger than any of those gods wielded. She was the Mythmaker.
