More colors had joined the cacophony. Banners of blue and silver and yellow were all being worked into the green and gold and red. And the ocean of people seemed to have multiplied, with robes of every color dashing back and forth. Their haste felt almost normal, now…and for many of them, the joy Hawk seemed to feel radiating off of them was genuine. They were convinced they were in the right place, serving the right systems and orders and commanders, and there was a bliss to that conviction. Hawk almost envied them; if she could convince herself it was a joy to be here, she wouldn’t be shaking with fear right now. And she was. Her hands were aspen leaves, her heart a shuddering thunderstorm crashing against ribs. Her legs felt unhinged, her gut unstrung. Each step felt like she was moving towards her own grave.
It had changed with the arrival of two more gods; their pantheon was complete. Illryis sat prim in an ocean of blue silk and silver trimmings. She was quite possibly the most beautifully perfect thing Hawk had ever seen, to the point of looking artificial. She felt like a bubble. Like if Hawk breathed too hard, she would float away.
Kaiser yanked her back beside him. He jerked a chin at Illryis. “Tiffany Banks. Naomi’s ex assistant. She’s a looker, ain’t she?”
“How about the one in yellow?” She asked. Kali’mar was obvious as well. His throne was covered in feathers, with mist curling around all the yellow-cast clouds. He was obviously male, but in a different way. He had the God-Presence that tripped Hawk’s fawn response bad, but he also felt like the human version of a pocket protector. He held a scroll and was reading it to the exclusion of the other gods, pausing only now and again to read something off the scroll to an attendant.
“Michael Vernox. Doctorate in theoretical physics. Paid through the nose to get the man for Bittermoss, and he isn’t that great of a teacher. Spent most of his time working on impractical theories.”
And now there was no more time to talk. Each God now had their own Archon positioned before them, and a dozen or so male preists in varying robe colors encircled each of the altars. Green and Gold robes around Nasheth’s, red for Argon, blue and silver for Illryis, yellow for Kali’Mar. Calamari, Hawk thought, then cringed. If she’d thought of that, Em had too, and that was going to be a disaster to head off at the pass. No mouthing off, she thought to herself, and wished she could telegraph the thought to Emile. The quartet of divinities all stood. Three of them had contented themselves with being human tall. Nasheth towered over them, a seeming ten, even fifteen feet tall, in an outfit of silk that was nearly larger than the pavilion, sitting in a throne the shape and size of a large tree. The gods turned towards Hawk and the team and Kaiser, and her mouth was dry, her hands an earthquake. Vomit seemed to curdle against the back of her throat.
Silence reigned in the tent, as petals fell from unseen places high overhead. There was only the whisper of Kali’Mar’s winds, and the oceanic sense around Illryis. The small quartet of humans stood in khaki and borrowed robes. This stood for a long, almost unending span.
“Thank you,” Nasheth said. “Thank you for your unending struggle to reach those you believed to be trapped. You intended to rescue my person. No rescue was ever needed, but you have my gratitude.”
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The formality said that it was time to screw with the crowd some more. A show of unity to keep their followers from one another’s throats, perhaps. The gracious goddess, greeting lost travelers with grace. Gag me, Hawk thought.
“It was my pleasure, Madame. Truly!” Kaiser said, which brought every annoyed and murderous eye in the tent straight to him. “But what should I call you? I knew you when you and your husband were the same as I!”
And Em leaned over and, perhaps reading the Light Archon thoroughly and in record time, said, “Well, fuck me. Now he’s got an audience.”
“One that could easily flay him alive, and make him thank them for the chance to serve.” The Light Archon said.
“Oh, we’re not that lucky.” Em said.
Nasheth shifted in her throne, and the twenty-foot-tall woman (It had to be twenty feet) was breathtaking and horrifying all at once. Silk swirled with her every movement, on the breath of floral perfume. The flowers around her throne seemed oddly subdued, despite their riotous intent. “I am and shall always be Nasheth. No other name remains.”
The crowd, as one, muttered, “Blessed.”
Kaiser looked around. “And the others?”
“Illyris, Master of Water, bears the blue-and-silver banner. Argon, in red, you have met. Now there is only Kali’Mar left.”
“What?” said the God in Yellow, looking around a bit frantically. He looked up from the papers in his hands. He even still wore glasses with multiple lenses, as if he were acting as a jeweler. “Oh, yes, yes, very well. I am here and I am imminent, and now I would very much like to be left to my work. I think I’ve nearly solved it.”
“Solved what?” Kaiser said, before good sense could silence him.
“What’s that?” Said Kali’Mar. “Who says that? Who and what? Oh.” And now his myopic vision seemed to clear, and he looked Kaiser full in the face. “You look familiar. Have I killed you before? Is that tonight’s festivities, Nasheth? I kill them while you practice blessing them with lives? That’s always such a chore.”
“These are outsiders, Kali,” she said. “They are from the God-World.”
Now his head came up for good, his papers cast aside, forgotten. “What? From Earth? How? Did you break through the Nexus? Is the way finally clear?!” Joy seemed to swell in his chest. “Is it finally time?”
“Time for what?” Hawk said, despite herself. She could have slapped a hand across her own mouth.
“Why, the inva—I mean, the liberation of Earth! Why should we leave our greatness here, when—”
“Silence!” Nasheth said, and glared at the God incarnate as nerd. If looks could kill, he’d be a smear on the moss. She shifted in her throne, slowly pulling back the murderous tendrils of emotion Hawk felt radiate throughout the tent. The gracious goddess’s eyes turned to the Earthsiders. “No, my love. It is not time. The Shadow drew near and made a hole so he could see them. They snuck through to reach us.” Nasheth shifted once more in her throne, drawing all eyes to her beauty, perfuming the world with the scent of her flowers. She made the whole world feel tired, like the summer afternoon, when the golden light is almost too bright…Hawk had to shake her head, pulling herself out of something dangerous. She reached out and smacked Em and Dyson, reached for the Archon only to find his hand reaching for hers.
“Do not fall asleep under that spell. You would lose your own mind in dreaming,” the Light Archon whispered.
“Right,” Hawk said.
“But we will get through the Nexus,” Nasheth whispered, her voice the youth of new leaves, the age of great oaks, and everything in between. “We will find our way as the root does, as water can, as fire bids and as air blows. Our powers will find their purchase and then there will be no blockade to keep us from the God World, and our rightful place within it. We are Kings and Queens and Gods, and we belong in the Light!
“And these dear, sweet outsiders, they are how we shall overcome the Shadow’s devices!”
And the cheers in the room were rivaled only by the screams as, with a breath of cold and dankest wind, every ball of cold light in the pavilion went out.