Departure of Soul: Game of Gods, #9

Chapter One

H

ollow footsteps announced my presence in the dingy alleyway, making me cringe and glance around furtively, expecting to see something come rushing out at me. Even when nothing did, I remained on high alert, nonsensically missing the silence of my Nebraska prison. At least there I knew who my enemies were and when I would have to face them. My time here in the advanced Gaia had taught me quite a bit about what the technological world was like, what I would face when I finally managed to escape from the beasts that held me in chains made of cold, invasive liquid.

All the time spent filching magazines and books, weakly peering over shoulders to see television shows and movies, was wasted. This world Darius and his minions created was nothing like what I witnessed on reality shows or read about. There were no silly human girls squealing in glee. If they squealed at all, it was from terror and pain, the kind that came from being shredded to pieces by both preternatural and human alike. 

Breathing drew me from my dark musing, a rasping pant breaking through the scantly lighted alley. I happened to be that source of light, skin producing a pulsating glow. Spirit wasn’t a subtle element – I wasn’t subtle. Standing out in a world being rebuilt on the foundation of war wasn’t the best way to be, especially when one happened to be shimmering whilst attempting to hide.

Forcing springy blonde curls out of my face with a forceful drag of fingers through locks, I searched my surroundings, hoping to find a decent hiding place. The only thing in eyeshot was a dumpster on the other side of an intersection and a sagging cardboard box pressed against the sticky outside wall of some kind of brick establishment.

Intersections of any kind were dangerous, especially when haste took precedence to looking both ways. Knowing this, I opted for the box, shoving it away from the wall just enough to crawl inside just in time to catch the first echoing footsteps rushing their way toward my pitiful fortress of pressed paper. Wiggling into the box, just big enough for me to stretch out a bit, I glanced toward the rough, rancid bricks, now several inches away. A dingy glow thrown from my exposed arms, legs and face greeted me. Brows pulling into a concerned furrow, I tucked my shoulders in tight, curling up loosely, just in case I needed to make a quick escape. The light coming from inside the box very well might gain someone’s curiosity.

After learning the hard way that I wasn’t much of a fighter, I didn’t want to be pitted up against another foe. The last confrontation cost me a pair of decent jeans, a cute top and a bra that actually fit. The underwear, well, that wasn’t something I would miss terribly. The fiasco also left me snatching the only things I came across that really fit me, a bland underwear set and a frumpy sundress, that really didn’t protect me from much of anything.

My breath caught in my throat as the footsteps stopped just outside my mediocre hideaway. A resonating growl penetrated the stillness, punctuated by an explosion somewhere far in the distance. Heart stuttering, nails biting into my upper arms to keep me grounded, hold the panic at bay, I waited. We can’t get close, a guttural voice snarled. From the tone and rough, vicious cadences of it, I would bet good money that was the growler speaking. The only option is to take out their weaknesses. The humans are easy pickings. The excitement accompanying that statement sent a horrified tremor through my bones.

Another voice, a smooth, feminine one, responded dryly, Oh, yes. Please do. I can’t wait to see how Darius punishes you for your transgressions once the elements die along with their consorts. As pleasant as her voice was to listen to, I’d never encountered anyone who could speak so coldly. Not even Darius, whose tone grew more manic over the time I was imprisoned. More desperate every time he came around to check and see that I hadn’t escaped like the others.

They were a distant memory most days once the injections took over, numbing my mind and stealing away my newer memories. Too many times I lost myself in the past. A past I wished was so easy to forget as the elements I was moving toward now. All I had left of them was vague impressions and the memory of naming each of them as they made their way into the forest, the newest in a long cycle of cursed demigods.

Eleven thousand years of life, almost three millennia spent with them, and I only barely knew who they were in our forest entrapment. Still, thinking of them dead twisted something inside me, brought a hollow ache to my chest. The injections were still messing with me, I decided, my mind, my body. Even after months on the run, two years of that damn fluid was enough to addle me to the point I wasn’t sure I would ever fully recover. Luckily there was no withdrawal, no need to worry about getting my next fix in the desolate world I found myself in.

They were still talking, rough and smooth, rough and smooth. Their words made no sense to me. From talking about the elements to bringing up Demeter’s supposed demons, really just daemons of nature weak enough that they could take on their alternative forms in front of humans with no troubles. I couldn’t piece together why any of them would be spoken about in the same breath as the others of my kind. Certainly they had no connection to each other. The only god who bothered with lowly personifications that made up the world was Hermes and he was far from a nature daemon, more influential, more powerful. Even as the world changed and the old ways and beliefs were buried under new ones, humans still clung to his symbols in their medicine.

Daemons couldn’t attest to the same treatment aside from the slight modification of their names to mean something so far from the original interpretation.

Puffing out a silent breath to shift a stubborn curl from in front of my eyes, I glanced over at the bricks, stained black over rust, burns over old blood. The very story of this city when all was said and done. Of the world as a whole, for surely this one nation was not the only to experience such pandemonium.

A part of me ached for the strangers of this land, but the world was built on war, founded on blood, sweat and tears of soldiers and civilians alike. There was no room to offer sympathy to a world that had none for itself.

What of the human you were chasing? that smooth voice inquired, only marginally interested. Her point made, argument won, she had no reason to invest herself any further in their activities. That had me curious, until the reason clicked in my mind. A spy, sent out to test his unruly forces for loyalty. Clever, though I never would’ve labeled Darius as anything less. He was one I remembered like a piece of my life on Mount Olympus. Insane though he was, the vampire was intelligent, sly enough to disconcert me.

Yet the other elements escaped him. I escaped him. Perhaps, then, I was giving him more credit than was due him. Granted, the madness that ensued with the premature start of his battle was what gave me the cover I needed to do so.

The pause was long enough that even I was surprised by how much time it afforded me to think about irrelevant things. My past meant little to nothing to me or anyone else, yet I couldn’t bring myself to stop obsessing over it. Then the words, We’re still looking, broke me away from it, an angry snort following the response.

The woman laughed, a high, charming sound that reminded me vaguely of birdsong. Somewhere, at some point in time, I’d heard a laugh similar before. It took a moment, but the memory of her kind was old enough for me to place the sound, but only barely. Fae weren’t supposed to be here, locked away by the gods in their own little world of mischief and mayhem. Funny how everything that wasn’t supposed to break out of captivity was doing just that. I might’ve laughed with her had they not been hostile. Had the entire city not become a landmine of eyes and ears, waiting, watching for an easy target.

I refused to be the next victim of misfortunate timing.

Get back to your search then, she said dismissively. In my mind she flipped long hair over her shoulder in a catty display of haughtiness. He’s heard too much. So had I, I imagined. They were thinking of killing off the very creatures I came here to find, but of course Darius would refuse such rash actions. Stepping on his toes generally led to a mass bloodletting. With so many other preternatural creatures stepping up to take their shots at the all they could eat buffet on the filthy California streets, what were a few more lost to his wrath?

Footsteps rushed away moments later, presumably following a scent trail or, if their victim was particularly unfortunate, a blood trail. Torn between curiosity about this mystery human and annoyance at still being cramped up in a box, I almost missed the flash of power surging just outside. While there were many things I’d forgotten over the years the substance wreaked havoc on my mind and body, the all-consuming presence of a god (or more than one, in this case), was not one of them.

The fae woman’s voice startled me as she said, Ah, Dagan. I was wondering where you’ve been hiding. For some reason I expected her to have left as well. Fae were just as gifted with vanishing acts as gods.

One of the gods, clearly Dagan from his response, sneered, I hide from nothing. My spawn were in need of a lesson. Somehow, judging by the harshness of his voice, I doubted whichever of them he used as examples were still amongst the living.  

The fae purred, a low, sultry sound, as she brushed off his explanation with an interested, And who is this? Only one other accompanied him, his power radiating just as obviously as Dagan’s, but somehow less blunt. Had I been able to see his aura instead of just the folded flaps of the box, I might’ve been able to place just what kind of god he was. And what pantheon he was from. He wasn’t Greek or he would’ve been able to sense me automatically. That didn’t mean he hadn’t realized I was here. Every once in a while, the spirit that made me fluctuated past the instinctual lull I coaxed it into, reaching out toward the four moving points of energy that I traveled so far to locate in the first place.

At some point in my life, before the ability was taken from me, I was also able to will myself to any place I chose. Becoming spirit managed to limit me to the untested confines of the element. Of myself. Never had it occurred to me that I should concern myself with what I might be capable of, not like it had with the others. Time and again they were replaced, yet I foggily remembered that every different, woefully unfortunate, incarnation was determined to learn the extent of their abilities. Never having been so inclined (the limitations of what I was now could never compare to the powers I had when I was a goddess), I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Or rather a brick building that reeked of piss and vomit and two gods and a fae.

Two guesses as to which was more inconvenient.

Zaqar, another voice, so thickly accented I almost didn’t understand, answered, seemingly unaffected by the woman’s blatant flirtation.

The fae and Dagan shot a few more harsh comments at each other after the frigid introduction. I didn’t bother to keep up with them as they weren’t relevant enough to clutter my faltering mind with. Then she bid him a nasty goodbye, hoping Shadowolves tore him to shreds. I’d never come across that particular breed of fae, but what I heard about them when I was still topside was rather...unpleasant.

Think about what I said, Zaqar said lowly, almost secretively. I do not want you to regret this path you have chosen. They could’ve been brothers, what with the way he so obviously cared about this other god’s life choices.

But gods were next to impossible to sway once they came to a decision, so I was unsurprised when Dagan laughed darkly, the sound followed by a slap, most likely friendly enough seeing as a fight didn’t erupt outside my box. In a maliciously amused tone, he said, Come now, Zaqar. What is there to regret?

And then he was gone, leaving his friend’s dejected, Only everything, to catch on the wind, meaningless. I felt those words to my core, not the meaning behind them, but the hollow emptiness that must’ve accompanied them knowing that they were wasted, useless to the world and, most of all, the one who spoke them. Useless the way I was useless to my family, to my parents. A grimace twisted my mouth and, had Zaqar’s voice not claimed a soft, It is safe to come out now, I would’ve been swept into the past again. Into that jumble of hollow memories and emotionless musings.  

Knowing it was pointless to continue hiding, I crawled out of the box with as much dignity as I could retain. My palm smacked down into a puddle I desperately hoped was water but wasn’t brave enough to do a sniff test of. If it was anything else, namely a bodily fluid, I didn’t want to know.

We faced each other, Zaqar towering over me. Actually, it was quite possible that he towered over everyone he came into contact with. Craning my head back, I squinted through the darkness, letting loose of some of the tight control I had on my element so my skin could illuminate what the glow could reach of him. How do I know you can be trusted? I inquired, aware of how cliché the line was. There were just some questions that had to be asked regardless of how ridiculous they seemed. His answer would determine everything.

Crossing his arms over the broad expanse of his chest, rusty-green eyes narrowing marginally on my face, he responded, You can’t be certain of it, however if I truly wished you harm, I would have informed the others of your presence while they were still here. He had a point with that one, but I refused to admit to it. There could still be an ace up his sleeve, as my ex-captors would say, and I didn’t want to take any chances.

So I stood there, mimicking his stance with my far less imposing height, arching golden brow, glowering up at him. His skin was a tanned bronze, hair a mass of stretched, coarse curls, yet he didn’t strike me as Egyptian. There were others from around the same area. Sumerian (which later merged with Babylonian to create the whole of the Mesopotamian pantheon), Iraqi, and so on. It would take forever to figure it out on my own, so I just came out and asked, a little annoyed about having to do so.

Sumerian, he answered, offering me a small, distracted smile, eyes darting to where I assumed Dagan disappeared from. The other god had been so close to my hiding place it sent a shudder of unease through me.

His gaze darted back to my face, eyes narrowing slightly, lips flattening into a severe line as another explosion sounded. Ashling, perhaps? I remembered all of three things about her, the same three things I remembered about everyone, her name, element and the name I gave her when we met. By the time this group joined me, the name choices to differentiate them from their predecessors was growing slim, so they weren’t particularly creative.  

You should go now, he advised, looking around for threats, though I doubted anyone could touch him. Gods were not easily taken by surprise. While there is no one around to catch you unawares.

Seeing as he wasn’t my objective here, I inclined my head, wondering what he was doing so far from home. Then again, this was a land of diversity. The perfect place for a god who was no longer being worshipped by his people to come to find some semblance