by Mur Lafferty
He went to the spot where he’d seen Morrigan disappear. When moving from purgatory to hell, he’d had the instinct to just split the air with his katana to move between realms; he tried that here. He swung the black blade in a diagonal slice and reality split, crackling at the seams. Keeping his sword out, he stepped through.
Daniel had visited several underworlds in his time as a dead soul and then as a god, and thought he’d be prepared for anything. And, as usual, he felt completely blindsided.
He entered a wooden room, much like a one-room cabin with no windows or furnishings, about two hundred feet square. The wall closed up behind him, and he realized the room had no door.
One candle sat on a stool in the center of the room, illuminating the transparent figure of a small boy. He looked at Daniel with baleful eyes.
“Huh. I didn’t think it would be that easy,” Daniel muttered to himself. “Hey, James,” he said, louder. “Are you bait or something?”
“She put her here as her proxy, her messenger,” James said, his voice like a dropped tissue. “That is my role now. No longer your guide.”
Guilt stabbed deep. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, James. I’m here to bring you back, I’ll do anything.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do. I am dead. I’m under her power now.”
“Come on, isn’t there something I can do? I’m a god!” Daniel said, stepping forward.
James stepped back, putting his hand up. “Do not touch me, or she’ll call me back.”
Daniel drooped. “I’m so sorry, James. For everything. Is she …” He was loathe to say the words, but he had to know. “Torturing you? Hurting you?”
The ghost shook his head. “No, Daniel. She’s very kind to me. If I serve her faithfully she’ll give me a corporeal body and I can rule the Underworld with her.”
“Uh, are you serious? She wanted a servant and boyfriend?” Daniel’s stomach twisted at the thought, but then remembered all the weird liaisons gods were said to have had, most obviously the small golden boy who served Zeus, Ganymede.
James nodded. “It’s not so bad. I understand a lot more now.”
“Huh, I didn’t have much expanded awareness when I died. But then again, I wasn’t houseboy to the death goddess, so I guess that has its perks.”
“I remember your quests, Daniel,” James said.
“What?” Daniel asked, completely flummoxed. “Um, okay, but what is your point?”
“I can help you. You need Morrigan for your goals. You don’t understand now, but you will. Kate will figure it out soon, and you will know how much she needs you. She hates Kate with a passion rivaled only by her love of me. I can get her to help you.”
“Wait, how do you know what Kate will figure out? And how can you get her to change her mind? And dude, that’s illegal in several states. Not that we’re in the States. But, damn, dude, that’s sick.”
“When I died, I’d been touched by three gods. That kind of power can be potent. I can get her to change her mind because her love for me is rivaled only by her hatred of Kate. Lastly, we have not been intimate. I have not proven myself to her yet.”
“Oh? What will that take?” Daniel asked.
James stared at him. “I must build a trap for a god.”
He reached out his ghostly fingers and pinched the candle out. Daniel stood in the darkness and watched the faintly glowing soul slip through the wall and away from him.
“Fuck.”
* * * * *
The thing about being a god was that there was so much to understand. Daniel felt as if he were running to stay just a little bit behind everyone else. Now he had walked directly into a trap, and he was the trickster god, at that.
The whispery sounds of the souls slinked against the walls, and Daniel got a nasty feeling that they were surrounding him, like zombies, waiting to get through before they devoured him.
He tried his katana of course; it passed harmlessly through the walls as if made of smoke. He ground his teeth and paced. He did not like this whole capturing thing, and he didn’t like being rescued. He paced until he hit his head on the wall, turned, and paced again, this time with his hands out.
A sound mocked him, past the souls outside, a high laughing sound. He rolled his eyes. Coyote’s here again to laugh at me for being such a shitty trickster god. Well, he thought, I’d rather fail at being Coyote than succeed at being Loki.
But why was she judging him or laughing at him? He did his job as best he knew. His pacing continued at a greater rate. He began to judge the width of the cabin by step numbers and then by the sound of the echoes off the approaching wall.
He shook his head. Fuck Morrigan anyway. Fuck her, and Coyote, and James, and Sam, and everyone who wanted something from him. He was tired of it all. He paced and though, paced and bared his teeth, paced and growled. Eventually he could barely walk two steps before he had to turn around, and when his shoulders brushed the roof of the cabin, he finally understood.
In coyote form — gargantuan, monstrous coyote form — Daniel threw his head back and howled. His nose crashed through the roof and he grew larger, shedding the splintered beams of the cabin as if they were toothpicks. He wasn’t Loki. He wasn’t Coyote. He was Daniel: unique, powerful, and angry.
The world outside the cabin was a vast gray desert, the light gray sand and ash shifting under his paws. The sky was a slate gray and showed only a full moon at her zenith.
Daniel paused briefly to smell the acrid scent of the souls around him until he detected a brief scent of James. He leaped over the tiny souls pawing at him and ran in the direction James had gone.
As he ran, his powerful body stretching out for maximum speed, he wondered if this was what Fenrir felt as he prepared for Ragnarök and Odin’s demise. He didn’t know what he would do to James and Morrigan when he found them, but he knew animals didn’t plan much farther ahead than, “chase, catch, kill.” He thought briefly of Odin in Fenrir’ jaws, and flecks of drool the size of buckets of water flew from his jaws as he ran.
No. We need her, he thought, his human sensibilities trying to overcome base animal desires. A tall stone wall loomed in the distance, but Daniel’s bulk was so great he leapt the wall with no problem.
A mansion made of red stone loomed higher than even Daniel, its wicked pointed towers looking ready to pierce the gray sky, and he wondered how he would break inside in his current form — with his current level of rage, he wasn’t sure he could attain human form any time soon. But he spied Morrigan and James walking the perimeter of the wall, about thirty yards from him, their backs to him. With two bounds he was upon them.
Morrigan turned her faceless mask to him, and he couldn’t tell if she was afraid, gleeful, expecting, or surprised. He reached down with his jaws and grabbed her, taking care, damnable care, not to crush her in his teeth. Before the ghost James could protest, he was away, leaping the walls again and running.
She didn’t squirm, but lay quietly between his teeth. She carried the scent of burned flesh and hopeless souls, and the smell nearly overpowered him.
Every Underworld has a river, and every Underworld has a path, he thought, and began running again, searching for his path, taking the death goddess to Kate.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As Kate flew toward Meridian and Lathe, she pondered what she knew of Chaos.
She didn’t know much, but she carried the knowledge of several gods within her. Too bad much of their knowledge had been useless in this entirely new world. But as for Chaos, not much had been said about it, only that it was massive, scary, and older than time. It had been chained with the creation of the world, and the four keys to its chains had been the four elements of earth, air, fire, and water.
Of course, there was no information about how four elements chained an ancient being older than gods. She had a brief image of throwing dirt clods and water balloons at the black mass that leaked into their world, and came up empty.
Sti
ll. There had to be something they could do. They were the ones who freed the beast; they had to put it back. She just wasn’t sure how, though.
Kate was careful not to trail far behind the Sheridan, even though they headed for the same destination. She flew as fast as she could to outpace the airship, and arrived on the outskirts of Lathe far ahead of the other gods.
The gods had been shocked and horrified at her actions, and she couldn’t blame them. She would have liked nothing more than to find a hole in the hills and hide there, but she had a job to do, and she was going to do it even if she had to venture into the Dark and face Chaos herself.
After this was over, she would try to make things right. Or she’d find that hole.
She walked into Lathe, her wings disappearing under her robe. Nothing stirred in the middle of the night, except for the occasional flare from scientists’ homes in the hills. Kate headed toward the center of the town where the marketplace stood.
Professor Burns’s Idea Emporium held the only light in the dark town. Surprised, she peeked into the open door. The professor stood there, calmly dusting the cases of ideas. “Lady Kate. I thought you might drop by,” he said. “Come in.”
“I’m confused. How did you get here?” Kate asked, entering the store and closing the door behind her.
“The Lady Fabrique used another one of her doors. We all went to our destinations ahead of the Sheridan. All but Persi, who stayed aboard the airship for obvious reasons.”
Kate winced when she thought of the last time chaos energy messed with divine travel. “Right. So they’re up in Meridian?”
“Yes, meeting about you. I asked to come home, as I expected you might need some guidance. Was I wrong?”
Kate smiled ruefully. “No. But haven’t I asked enough of you, too?”
The old man pursed his lips and gave the spotless counter one more determined wipe. “I seem to recall approaching you when I discovered a problem. Part of this whole mess could be attributed to me, after all, as I encouraged the sun god’s addiction. Although none of us knew what he would be like during the evening, I still doubt he will be of any use during the day, which could be inconvenient. Besides…” A ghost of a smile passed his lips. “I enjoy the adventure.”
Kate laughed. “I’m not sure I do, honestly. But what can I give you for your trouble? I would like to think that I’m done demanding things from people.”
He looked at her directly, startling her with his intensity. “Protect my home. Protect Lathe.”
“Uh, okay,” Kate said. “Why, exactly? It’s not like it’s in danger.”
Burns laughed suddenly, a bitter sound in the dead silence of the night. “We are a city that floats, Kate. We lie in the shadow of a much larger floating city. We’re frequently struck by improbability storms. Half of our inhabitants are mad, the other half are disgraced, and the third half are homeless.” He caught her raised eyebrow at the math involved. “Yes, Lathe is an odd city. We have three halves.”
Kate closed her eyes. Yes, she could probably do that. She opened them. “Done. It’s protected as much as I can protect it, anyway.”
Burns smiled. “Then the store is yours.” He opened his arms wide.
“Whoa, wait, I didn’t ask for the store. I just wanted some guidance. One, maybe two ideas.”
Burns smiled. “Thank you, Lady, for not following the path of the sun god. Please, take your pick, then.”
Kate took three: one diplomatic, one logistical, and a battle idea. She slipped them into her robe. “Thank you, Professor.”
He bowed to her. “It has been my honor to serve you, Lady. Any time you need anything, you are welcome to call on me.”
She smiled and walked outside. As she wandered the labyrinthine streets of Lathe, she unwrapped the logistical idea — one of the old-fashioned cedar idea boxes — and held it to her ear.
Symbols are often stronger than the things they are based on. Kate frowned. That wasn’t an idea. It was a fortune cookie. She shook the box to see if it would then spit out her lucky numbers or how to say “cow” in Chinese, but there was nothing else. She sighed. Damned elusive ideas.
The light started to touch the horizon, and Kate sighed. Barris would be reverting to his catatonic state soon. She would be judged at the temple. Then, probably, she and Daniel would head into the Dark alone. She looked up at the shadow that was the floating Meridian. It loomed, and she wondered if they were up there, discussing her fate, or the fate of her world, somewhere they neither knew nor cared about.
Facing them felt like going to the principal’s office, or her boss’s office. The office of someone who had the power to do terrible things to her.
She steeled herself. She was a god. One of the first. She did the damage; she could take the heat for it.
* * * * *
She walked up to the House of Mysteries just as the sun appeared over the hills. Fabrique let her in without looking at her.
As she’d feared, Barris lay slumped in the corner, again in his small, comatose form. He really was half dead. The other gods were seated on stools around her workstation. Fabrique joined Gamma and Ishmael at the table.
The small goddess cleared her throat. “With Persi incapacitated and Prosper deciding to become a coral reef instead of a god, and you and Daniel not getting votes, and Morrigan not available, we were left with four to vote. It was difficult coming up with a proper decision on what to do with you.”
“Clearly, we can’t have a god slayer among us,” Fabrique continued. “But some leeway was given due to the fact that you did free us from our prisons that we do believe you had no hand in creating. We also understand that this ‘Chaos’ you mention causes us more threat than you do.”
She paused, and Ishmael spoke up. “We have decided to help you with your war. Barris and Ishmael will accompany you to the Dark. But when you are done, you are to go back home. We do not want the goddess Kate in this world any longer.”
“Exile,” Kate said, the word tasting like ash in her mouth. But returning to heaven had been her goal all along, hadn’t it? “What about Daniel?”
“Daniel wasn’t involved with the razing of Dauphine,” Fabrique said. “Therefore he is free to stay — or leave — as he chooses.”
“I’m going with her,” said Daniel from the doorway. He stood there, his hair wild as if blown by a strong wind.
Kate smiled, trying not to let the sheer volume of relief show on her face, but the smile faded when she saw the figure standing behind Daniel.
Daniel stepped into the room. “We have one more person helping us.” He moved aside and presented the cloaked, masked death goddess to the room.
She gripped her scythe tightly and said, “I understand we have an ancient god to kill?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Alicia and Sarah politely refused the gods’ request for an airship. Kate knew they could have demanded, but she didn’t feel right doing that. They’d asked enough of the grieving family, and Daniel had apparently failed in his quest to get James.
“She won’t give him back; he’s the only thing she won’t negotiate on. I figured I’d make her join us by force, but once she heard what we were trying to do, she was all for it,” he said. “But James, she picked him specially and won’t let him go. I don’t know what else to do.”
“I guess we worry about that afterward,” Kate said.
“Afterward, we’re exiled, Kate,” Daniel said, his hand on her arm. Neither said the words, “… if we survive it,” but it hung between them like a dangling sword. Kate didn’t much like the idea of hanging in the underworld with Morrigan.
The death goddess completely ignored her and took orders — or suggestions — only from Daniel. Kate shrugged. As long as she does what we need.
The group of gods talked for most of the day on strategy, with the gods asking Kate and Daniel for whatever details they could give about Chaos.
When Kate had mentioned the four elements, Fabrique perked up. “What did y
ou say they were? Earth, Air, Fire, and Water?”
Kate nodded. “Yeah. Another group of people where we come from thought there were five elements. They didn’t include Air, but added Wood and Metal.”
Fabrique waved her off. “There are four major cities on this continent. Leviathan City is under the water. Dauphine was destroyed in a fire. Meridian is in the air. And Lathe, while not technically on the Earth, sure is close to it.”
Kate froze. She stared at Fabrique. What had the idea said? Symbols are often stronger than the things they are based on. She looked around the room. The gods were nodding thoughtfully.
Ishmael was the god of the sea. Water. Barris was the god of the sun. Fire. Morrigan was the goddess of death and the underworld. Earth. Who was air? She looked at each in turn, and then realized that she herself, as reborn goddess who flew, was probably closest to air. The others, they couldn’t be extraneous — what were they?
She nodded to herself. Prosper had been wood, of course. Either Fabrique or Gamma could be metal. As the Chinese had considered it, metal corresponded with weapons as well as tools, so she decided Gamma was metal.
That left Persi, Fabrique, and Daniel. They were out of elements. Daniel rubbed his wrist thoughtfully, the one he’d gnawed off. He’d told her how he’d unconsciously turned into a coyote again and taken off with Morrigan, and she wondered how much of his power he really controlled.
Fabrique tinkered with a device as the gods quietly conversed about what the elemental cities could mean. The tiny gears and springs fit together perfectly and the realization hit Kate like a fist. “Order. Chaos. And the poor bastard living things that are caught up in it all,” she whispered.
