FALSE GODS

09 Fortune Favors the Dead

Felicity was lucky. If she, as little as stumbled, there was someone or something to give her support. Something always broke her fall when she tumbled down while climbing trees. Her lost jewelry always found its way back to her. Of course, her good fortune went way beyond such trivial relief. Nevertheless, she had never dared to tempt fate.

Tarsus walked on silently. It seemed to Felicity that he was not one to talk much unless it was necessary. Unlike Damon, he had not raised a single question.

“I am having trouble believing anything you say,” Damon asserted. “You are a beautiful damsel that I cannot deny. However, I will not spill any facts about my abilities.”

“I know of them already.”

“What?” Damon turned to Tarsus.” Yasou, beanstalk! Did you hear what she said? Do you trust this witch?”

“I believe her, runt.”

“This is so endearing,” Felicity chimed in, “The two of you have nicknames for each other already.”

“Then go ahead and tell the girl your abilities,” Damon demanded of Tarsus, disregarding the lady’s cheek.

“I think she knows already,” the hulk answered summarily.

“Yes,” Felicity confirmed.

“That is mighty,” Damon said in exasperation. “It seems I am the villain here for raising doubts on this charade.”

Felicity halted all of a sudden and stood to face Damon. She took his hand in both of hers.

“You are not a villain in this life; I can assure you that,” she said, her blue eyes shimmering at him. “I know you have been alone for a long, long time. I am with you now.” A tear escaped her right eye and rolled down her cheek.

Damon tensed for a moment with her touch and her words. He peered into her eyes, searching for the slightest tinge of dishonesty or deceit, but found none. His anxiety dissolved, and a burden seemed to have lifted from his heart. He nodded earnestly.

The trio resumed walking in silence for some time.

“So! What do we do next?” Damon posed.

“We start our journey to Mt. Radomir.”

“It is a long journey that will take a year at the least. Moreover, passing through Modo is close to impossible. The patricians are in charge of the qualifying tasks. And then there are the Labors. Have you really thought this adventure through, uh, Felicity?”

“Well, fortune has favored me, and I have met my heroes. Everything seems to be falling into place.”

A light giggle escaped her. Her glee was so infectious that both Damon and Tarsus found themselves smiling with silly expressions.

Felicity was nostalgic. She felt she had known them all her life. Perhaps much longer than her life if her visions were to be interpreted in certain ways. However, it was necessary to keep certain details from them. Her elemental and muse abilities were more powerful than she had let on. Nevertheless, the men did not need to know.

If truth were to be said, she needed them in other ways.

Felicity was light as a feather and lacked the strength required to make an epic journey possible. She would often fall asleep during the day and would need someone she trusted to watch her. It was a miracle she had reached thus far.

The trio was walking abreast in a rhythm. They were no longer talking but exchanging terms with expressions. It was as if a family had been reunited.

After their chance-meet at the tavern, they had exited the cuppa marketplace from the north gate. Due north would have taken them to the hippodrome, where chariot races are held. Drunken citizens from the taverns flock there during the race days. The magistrate sponsored such events.

Due west would have taken them to the agora, where city folks gather to talk politics and listen to speeches in the evenings. Heralds make public announcements there. It also housed the temples of Aion and the seraphim.

To avoid crowds, they had taken a gravel path east. It is deserted at that time of the day and is a straight path to the private inn where Felicity had lodgings. They had crossed a public park and a row of houses on their way, drifting into a dilapidated part of the town.

Pago was not all colors and music. There were wards such as these where not a soul was visible.

Only a sliver of light remained in the evening sky. It was about to get dark.

Something hit Tarsus on the face and fell to the ground. He stopped, confused.

Felicity and Damon turned to see what was wrong.

The object was a ball of soil from the looks of it.

The smell of rotten eggs permeated the air.

Tarsus took a hand to his forehead and started reeling. Damon grabbed Felicity’s arm and pulled her away as the hulk fell like a log to the ground.

“It is sloam!” Damon hollered. “Hold your breath, or it will knock you out for an hour. We are under attack!”

Sloam is made from the liver of a male crocotta, a scavenger beast that lives in the outlands. Mixed with sand and water, it becomes a powerful opiate and sedative. It gives off fumes that can put even a grown man to instant sleep for several hours. Damon knew of it because he had used the poison several times as an assassin.

The last glimmer of light escaped, and the blanket of night fell on the world.

Voices rose from the darkness.

Voices in the multitude. They sounded like groans and moans and snarls.

“The undead. They are coming,” Felicity warned.

“The undead?” Damon fired back. “Did you say the undead? What have I gotten myself into?”

Groaning, grumbling, snarling, the creatures creeped out from the ruins of houses, from the cracks in the streets, from the foliage of trees, and from pits in the ground.

They seemed to be men and women but twisted and deformed.

A sea of red, glowing eyes surrounded them. There was no escape.