The whole family come to visit me, bearing Tribute of flowers and cakes and a cloak of woven wool. Ganzor, his wife Namuna, and DeeDee, whose name was actually Delbi but who is affectionately called by her nickname, and even Bobo. I accept their Tribute, and promptly blow most of the Worship Points from it on a Blessing for each of them. The weird cost listed next to Bless means I can spend any number of Worship Points up to a maximum of my level, so it will get more powerful as I do.
I spend the days thinking of ways to wake myself up, unsuccessfully, and trying to get useful information out of the Voice. I have a little more success with the latter.
If gods are numen that reach level fifty, then what's a demigod? Do you have those?
A Demigod is a numen that Manifests in a mortal body.
Couldn't it be an immortal body instead?
That would make them Undead.
Oooooh. That makes a sort of sense. Angels?
Those would be a type of Avatar.
Which is?
A Manifestation formed from part of a numen's Power and given independent consciousness and personality.
So… normally Manifesting is like putting on a suit, but creating an Avatar is more like cutting off a body part, giving it a brain and setting it free?
Inaccurate, but not entirely so.
A scream draws my attention from my studies. A child's scream, cutting through the night. A storm has blown up, which I had barely noticed until now. The grass of the plain is whipped into a heaving sea, and driven before the wind's uncaring lash is DeeDee. Her clothes are awry, half dull with fresh dirt, each toss of her tangled mane threatening to blind her as she runs. I can see red smears among the mud. Blood on her face and hands.
In the far distance I spot more figures. Five, maybe six, in dark clothes, moving with grim purpose towards the sound of the scream. The girl flings herself at me, shrieking a plea.
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“Help me! Don't let them find me! They'll kill me!” She sucks in a tearful breath. “They killed Bobo! Help me! Please, rock. Please!”
1 Worship Point gained.
I double-check what I already kknow. With DeeDee's desperate gift of a point, I now have a grand total of two Worship Points.
The dark figures are quickly getting closer. I can see them more clearly despite the darkness. All men, all with weapons in hand. Not guns- blades, a slender club or bat, an axe. They wear what I know to be armour, even though I’ve never seen a movie with armour like it. It looks as if they've jumped through a pile of leather bike tyres that are now stuck around their chests, then shoved stacks of smaller tyres onto their upper arms. A couple of them have still more around their thighs and have dropped a few over their heads with just a slit to see through. It sounds silly, saying it like that. They make it look like a threat, not a joke.
DeeDee looks back over her shoulder in panic. I wonder what has happened to her parents. I wonder, fleetingly, who these men are that are chasing her and why, although I can guess at what violent and disreputable men might do to women and girls. To little DeeDee, with her trusting face and carefully-chosen, sadly wilting little flower gifts and small, sticky hands.
I have two Worship Points left. My life is a world away, with cars, and movies, and hungover university lectures, and leftover pizza for breakfast. A fourth way back comes to me. If I'm Terminated here, maybe I'll wake up back home.
But maybe I won't. Maybe I'll just end.
I don't want to die.
“Please!”
There are six armed men, one terrified girl, and a rock. This will take a Miracle, and it will not be Inconsequential. I concentrate.
Some animal or other has burrowed out a home beneath the rocky wedge that is currently me. As DeeDee presses close, the ground beneath her gives way and she is swallowed into the hole. It's barely big enough for her. Her legs are scrunched up and her arms squeezed in front of her chest. Her head is pressed against my underside, poorly masked by the tussocks of grass around my base. She squeaks once in protest and fear.
The world greys and whirls around me.
Worship Points have been reduced to zero. Existence will be terminated in twenty-four hours.
The armed men stomp closer still, the storm at their backs.
“Where did the brat go?”
“I see something over here! No, wait. It's just a rock.”
Dimly through my swimming senses I feel something drum against my surface. A club of wood and metal, tapping impatiently. There’s a booted foot beside DeeDee’s head. I can sense her trembling, or perhaps that’s me as dizziness takes over.
“She can’t have gone far.” The boot pivots a little, its toe almost touching DeeDee's forehead.
“We could tell Temur we hit her too hard and killed her, so we just left her?”
Ah, I think as I slide away into nothingness. They don't want to kill her. They want something worse…