The God Wheel

by Brian Clopper

  I reviewed more of the ghastly tidbits as we trekked. Try not to look at him for too long. Something about his appearance being so unearthly and alien to our tiny brains that we risked derailing our very sanity, or words to that effect. He will manipulate gravity and perception as well as make you think you have a tummy ache. Nausea spawned by a mental attack was apparently a thing. Don’t get him started on his relatives. Bad blood between elder gods was rampant and usually resulted in restraining orders being issued willy-nilly. Of course, when dealing with entities that could bend reality to their whim, they weren’t all that easy to enforce.

  Despite the laundry list of hazards, Vardislek had given us an attack that was foolproof. The god had lingered on me when he had said that.

  “You up to this?” I asked Lorna.

  She nodded.

  “I wish it was me,” I said.

  “I get it, but having Yolla by your side negates the link you have with Mitch, and for this to work, one of us has to serve as a conduit.”

  “Still sounds risky. He was a little cagey about whether your body could handle so much power. Add to that his portent and you’ll have to excuse me if I’m a little worried.”

  “I can do it, Felix. With every step we take, I grow more convinced that I can handle this.”

  I smiled. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that? All of this is crazy, and you’re handling it like a champ.”

  She looked over at me. Something about her expression told me, if we dwelled much longer on our mission, she would fall apart. And I couldn’t blame her. I was the same. Heck, a stiff breeze could take me down at this point.

  “You are, too.” She quickened her pace.

  I kept up, as did Yolla. The goddess had been quiet through the entire discussion of how to take down Big Ernie. I wanted to ask her if the powers that be could enlist the overruling magic required to imprison a slew of rebellious deities, why they couldn’t send in mystical troops to deal with the Entropy Queen. I didn’t, because I knew she’d just circle back to the prophecy and insist we’d only see it through thanks to the likes of us. She would likely candy coat it and brand us as ‘brave and worthy mortals’ to boot. Yolla, despite her faults, was overall positive. I was actually glad to have the goddess of good fortune along on this mission. She at least made it feel less of a suicidal one and more of the you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me variety.

  We now moved down a slight slope, the rock formations around us thinning more and more.

  Ahead, I spotted our destination—a pyramid not at all Egyptian, more Aztec inspired. With the slope now steeper, we slowed.

  I took care with my footing on the loose gravel as I studied the stone structure. There were four sets of wide stairs, one for each side of the pyramid. The six terraced levels were topped by a temple. A lit brazier stood at the entrance to it, the flames leaping impressively high.

  Big Ernie wasn’t the celestial’s real name. Ernuticotylazyl or something like that. Many seeking to impress the elder god had been struck dead for mangling the name. Addressing him as Big Ernie didn’t incur his ire. He preferred it, according to Vardislek. As to why Lorna’s god knew so much about his jailer, Vardislek had confessed to being a bit of a divinophile, a word I reckoned the obnoxious god had made up, but I’d let it slide. Vardislek and I really hadn’t gotten along, and I’d tried to be the better person and hold my tongue. It hadn’t been easy. The pesky god had been judicious with the cretins, losers, nimrods, chiefs, and other derogatory names when addressing me during our elder-god-takedown huddle.

  We stopped at the base of the pyramid. I did my best to tamp down my rising anxiety. Pity schools didn’t offer a life skills class on tamping. I definitely could’ve benefited.

  Yolla finally spoke, her first comment in a while. “One thing you might want to do to improve your chances.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Fortune favors the brave and right now you’re quaking in your boots. Afraid your fear is making any good luck magic take a nosedive. I already feel a little weak, Felix.”

  I glanced over at her. She was rather see-through, only this time I don’t think she was doing the whole ghost thing on purpose.

  Lorna asked, “Are you okay, Yolla?”

  We needed every edge we could get. I wouldn’t be the reason Lorna failed. I concentrated, doing my best to radiate courageous thoughts. You got this, Felix. Be a beast. Be strong. Be magnificent. On that last line of pep, I scolded myself. Overreach much?

  Yolla grew more defined, her ghostlike appearance almost completely banished. She again looked solid, give or take a patch of transparency that popped up here and there.

  I squinted at her slightly see-through elbow, egging on my confidence in my head. Remember the time you faced down Lance Tate in tenth grade? That showdown could’ve resulted in me being shoved into my full cafeteria tray, but the bully had actually backed down.

  Yolla’s elbow filled in.

  The goddess smiled at me. “Much better. You have a wonderful glow about yourself when you’re confident, Felix. Stick with the bravery and boldness. It suits you.”

  I looked at my arms, surprised to see there was a faint glow.

  Lorna was equally attentive to my change. “Okay, we all get it. You’re feeling plucky. Just remember, it’s me doing the heavy lifting.” She started up the steps.

  I climbed alongside her. “Putting good luck out there for us is the least I can do.”

  Lorna said, “It really is.”

  Her playful ribbing was obvious. I laughed.

  I waved a goodbye to the goddess. Yolla would stay put. She’d assured us her good fortune would still stick by our side, but that her actual physical presence would work against us once we were face to face with Big Ernie.

  The slope was steep enough that we both leaned forward and resorted to using our hands to aid our ascent about every other step.

  Halfway there, we stopped and rested.

  I scanned the terrain. The plateaus radiated outward from the temple along not quite radial spokes; they were relatively straight, with only a few out of line by a negligible amount. The pattern hadn’t been noticeable before. I could make out about twenty along each of the dozen spokes before the haze and distance made it impossible to see more.

  “This Big Ernie is powerful. Hard to believe his magical essence created this prison and fuels the barrier spell.” I reeled backward, vertigo doing its level best to send me tumbling.

  Lorna grabbed my wrists and pulled me back. I banged my shoulder into the next step, but at least I hadn’t fallen.

  “Remember, Vardislek said the closer we got to the summit, the more Big Ernie would play with our perceptions.” She guided my hands to seek purchase two steps up. “We go the rest of the way on all fours, deal?”

  I nodded, although I wasn’t convinced the elder god’s influence had played a part. I really wasn’t a fan of heights, not that I would admit such to her.

  Ten steps farther and the remaining section of stairs appeared to curl up and over our heads. Here were the warped perceptions.

  “Don’t look back,” Lorna said, then vomited.

  I spared a glance her way, which made the sky spin. The clouds spiraled round and round as if being pulled down a drain located close to the sun. Over her shoulder, I could see the adjacent side of the pyramid, as if it had been mounted on a hinge and some giant hand had lifted it from its assigned, and dimensionally appropriate, anchor point. I shouldn’t have been able to see the other side. It was impossible from a physics standpoint. I thought of Vardislek’s exact words regarding Big Ernie’s capabilities. He bucks the conventions of physical parameters. He unseats up and down and screws the pooch, three-dimensionally speaking.

  My stomach churned, and I squeezed my eyes shut to end the unraveling of time and space. I gagged and pressed my lips closed.

  My equilibrium was out to lunch. I yo-yoed between the air pressing in on me and then fleeing. I felt both buoyant, like if I
let go I’d float into the clouds, and heavy, the sensation of my body being pressed into the ground as if some giant hand wanted me relocated to the Earth’s core ASAP.

  “You okay?” I asked, sucking in several precious breaths as if an unreasonable vacuum was pending.

  She coughed and sniffled. “Better. I looked down. Big mistake. Almost did a nosedive off this thing. Everything was all warped. It was like the ground reached up to snag me. Sorry you heard me throw up.”

  “No worries. Just checking that off the relationship bucket list earlier than expected.”

  “And where does pairing up and conquering an elder god that smacks you around with reality fall on that list?” she snidely asked.

  “Oh, it’s been added.”

  I heard her snicker and resumed climbing.

  She said, “I’m not opening my eyes until we get to the top.”

  “I hear you,” I said, groping for the next step.

  It was much slower going, and I almost let go once due to a displaced sensation that roared forth from my gut, which had me convinced I could no longer feel the stone under my hands and feet. Lorna shrieked and confessed to the same feeling. I heard a lot of scuffing and sliding about from both of us. When her hand latched onto the back of my shirt and tugged it reassuringly, the unease evaporated and we continued upward.

  We reached the summit and crawled forward for a good twenty feet, only opening our eyes when the growing heat from the brazier ahead buffeted us.

  It turned out the flame was only an arm’s length away. A forward shuffle or two more, and one of us would’ve jabbed our hands into the blaze.

  We stood, fixing our gaze on the fire simply because we didn’t want to risk a glimpse of the sky, or ground, or sides of the pyramid bending about and rushing at us again. With my peripheral vision, I could see the air all around wiggle and twist, an effect much like the one that would radiate from a hot road—in this case, more like a thoroughfare heated to supernova intensity. I narrowed my eyes, which helped lessen the effect.

  Lorna pointed past the fire to the temple opening. “Into the maw we go. Say your prayers if you got ’em.”

  Chapter 20

  Elder God Banter

  Once we passed through the temple entrance, the sense that time and space were being twisted into knots lessened.

  We soon came to a set of stairs. Wall-mounted torches arranged two to a landing aided us greatly. The stairs switched back and forth for six flights before we reached a corridor.

  Who dares disturb the womb haven of Big Ernie? The voice crashed into our heads, louder and more overstepping than Herena’s telepathy.

  Lorna started down the corridor. I took three quick strides to catch up with her.

  You have the gall to violate my ponder space?

  Something was off about Big Ernie. Womb haven? Ponder space?

  The flames of the torches fluttered and diminished in size as if a strong breeze had blasted down the hallway, but I hadn’t felt anything.

  “Just like a bully. Resorting to intimidation already,” I said.

  The passage took a sharp right and doubled in size. We moved even faster through the wider section.

  You face reliable death if you stay your ill-advised course.

  Stones from the wall ahead began to shimmy free from their original position and purpose of holding up the temple. Thankfully, it was not many, but it made it difficult to continue as our path now resembled the sides of a Jenga tower where players had only wormed their blocks halfway out.

  We progressed by ducking, sidestepping, and hurdling our way through.

  The stones continued to emerge, many almost spanning the entire width of the corridor. We resorted to wiggling and squirming.

  “This isn’t good,” I said. “We’re going to get crushed before we even confront him.”

  The stones stopped sliding into the hall.

  I have a name, you know.

  “What?” I replied weakly.

  We moved even faster, trying to take advantage of the motionless stones.

  My kin bearer honored me with a name when she brought me into this actuality. The least you could do is use it in your ultimate moments.

  Don’t ask how I could tell, but Lorna relayed a look that told me to keep stalling.

  Ahead, the crowded passage opened into a large chamber. And, from what I could see, the walls of it weren’t inducing a heaping helping of claustrophobia.

  Not at all respectful to just refer to me as a him.

  “Very sorry. Pronouns do you a disservice. I see that now. I won’t even attempt your true name as I’ve heard no one can speak it to the degree of perfection that it deserves. But may I call you by your alias, the appellation spoken in reverence throughout the cosmos, or so I’ve been told?” I laid it on thick, thinking an elder god would lap up subservience.

  It’s not sitting right with me.

  He was having a hard time getting past my apparently brazen pronoun usage. “Absolutely. I will not let that happen again. But do I have your permission to address you with your illustrious, and by no means any less momentous, name?”

  Lorna, who was almost to the chamber at the end of the hall, sent me a laying-it-on-a-little-thick glance. I smiled, pleased I could so readily interpret her looks.

  I suppose that would be fitting. It’s actually grown on me since its spoken inception.

  The stones resumed moving.

  Lorna shoved herself through the last few feet.

  I snaked under a particularly aggressive slab of masonry and then climbed over two others before I was home free.

  The moment I was out of harm’s way, the stones reversed course and snapped back into their rightful, architecturally sound, places.

  Oh, you two must be escape craftsmen. Have you been practicing back at your wellness abodes?

  Why didn’t he just say escape artists or homes? It was as if his thoughts didn’t quite translate correctly.

  The pair of you are quite resourceful. A goodly portion of intruders succumb to hasty death before they make it to my doorstep.

  We walked into the chamber. It was a huge domed area, far bigger than the pyramid it inhabited. Guess Big Ernie could make his ‘wellness abode’ as spacious as he wanted it to be. A definite perk of being a manipulator of the space/time continuum.

  The room wasn’t lit by torches. Instead, the tiles underfoot gave off a soft light.

  “It’s like you could fit three football stadiums in here,” Lorna said as she did a slow turn with her mouth hanging open.

  Well, it needs to be huge for when I’m my customary self. You’ve trespassed when I’m under the weather. Caught a transversal head cold when I tried to fold time and space within a black hole on a binary dare from my neighbor Zggglwsx. At least me sneezing inverse geometrical mucus bundles stopped a day ago. You would not have wanted to experience that, trust me. If you had barged in a week earlier, I was ginormous, a sprawling mass of tentacles that this chamber could barely contain.

  “You can leave this dimension?” I asked.

  Ahead, at the center of the chamber, a small table sat. Perched atop the ridiculously tiny furniture, when situated with such a massive area as its current backdrop, there was something round, like a crystal ball.

  Being the only discernible feature of the space, we walked toward it, on guard for an ambush.

  Not exactly leave, but I can extend myself into other quantum neighborhoods without my duties as jailer suffering.

  What we mistook for a crystal ball was not. For one, as we drew closer, it trembled and there was movement at its base, like it sat on a plate of writhing worms.

  I confess to a little boredom. You’re my first visitors ever.

  And two, Big Ernie’s telepathic utterances grew louder as we approached.

  Lorna pointed at the definitely-not-a-crystal-ball thing and into the air as if trying to connect it with Big Ernie’s conversing.

  She said, “Wait, you said you took out
other intruders besides us.”

  Well, that was a bit of an embellishment on my part. I wanted to unsettle you by referencing past conquests of my doing. You’ve exposed me. I’ve really never encountered a threat to my thriving being.

  We were now within twenty feet of the table and could clearly see what it held. Big Ernie was little more than an octopus.

  Lorna gasped.

  I would have, but a horrible smell made me pinch my nostrils shut. Good lord, it was like the offspring of shower drain hair sludge and the putrid runoff from a rusted-out dumpster where dead cats, an entire school of deceased mackerel, and a rotten decorative gourd had been discarded.

  Lorna clamped down hard on her own nose. She wiped at her eyes, too.

  I had to as well. The stench was working our tear ducts overtime.

  The air still tasted foul, but it was a passable alternative to taking another whiff.

  Only feet away now, we sized up our opponent.

  He was definitely octopoid, or at least what looked like a bad puppeteer’s version of a cephalopod. His balloon-sized body was a sickly yellow with red and blue veins funneling upward from where his squirming tentacles sprouted forth. The flailing appendages, of which there had to be close to twenty, darted to and fro, some segmented, most with slimy suction cups, and even one that waved about a tiny axe or cocktail umbrella. The tentacle twirled the bright blue object so manically it was hard to tell.

  Its eyes caught my attention, and I couldn’t tear myself away. Black, bulbous and leaky, they bespoke of horrors unimaginable. I mean, if I really comprehended what I was seeing, since I could actually visualize the nightmares contained within their depths, then wouldn’t that make them simply imaginable terrors?

  My soul shriveled up as ghosts, wraiths, witches, and a disproportionate number of simple accountants wielding those big calculators with their own paper rolls descended on me. I screamed.