Chapter 49 - Third-Apati

Apati

Danae

My mind drifted on the breeze, killing death with each breath.

Vapor floated overhead, wafting and swirling behind the ever-present glow of my golden shield. Mist watching was my new favorite past time. Especially right after a big meal. When my thoughts drifted and the images in the fog seemed to have a life of their own.

That cloud looked a lot like Eris – all hard angles and edges.

And that one was Horus – all soft fur and thick horns.

They moved closer together, almost looked like they were about to kiss—

The wagon beneath me jostled, my shields immediately appearing and cushioning my body. It turned out the answer to my question was yes. I could convince them to let me ride in the food wagon. Although, technically… wasn’t it also a death wagon?

At least, if I was riding in it?

Anyway, that’s why I was lying atop my many plates – my perfectly preserved meals – each one shielded by a golden bubble of energy. Staring up at another barrier that hung over the wagon to keep off the rain. Killing both time and death at once.

“Danae? Danae?”

Interesting. The fog-Eris’s mouth was moving and twisting now. Almost like she was talking to me. I swear I felt like I could actually hear her. Too much food probably. Some of Nyx’s proprietary herbs and spices were hallucinogenic. Not that I minded, of course. It made the mist watching more interesting—

“Danae! Are you ignoring me?”

Hmm. Fog-Eris looked angry now. It was honestly a spitting image of—

My shield abruptly shattered, the blast knocking me backward, only for another to appear behind me, cradling my body against the side of the wagon. I blinked blearily, trying to get my bearings. The blast of flame had punched a hole through the mist – which had only grown thicker once we left the forest. This offered a perfect view of Real-Eris who was walking alongside the wagon… and who looked as upset as Fog-Eris.

She could definitely use a snack.

Which is why I offered her a piece of tempura. Gingerly, of course.

Sometimes, she would get upset and destroy the food for no good reason.

Eris looked conflicted for a moment, eyeing Horus where he trudged along ahead of us, happily humming to himself as he hauled the wagon. Then she snatched the tempura in a blaze of orange, crunching away happily and the stress melting from her shoulders. This is what I meant. She needed the herbs and spices. They helped her relax.

“Could you please walk with me a moment?” Eris offered moments later, wiping at her mouth discreetly and eyeing Horus again. “I’d like to scout ahead.”

“A good idea. Just be careful, My Lady,” Horus growled, their eyes meeting.

Both of them stayed like that for a long time.

Normally, it would be awkward. But this time I welcomed the reprieve. My eyes darted down to the banquet I was lounging upon, each precious dish protected in its own bubble of pure gold – to ward off the mist, of course. Mold grew quite quickly. I also noticed that the food stayed really fresh if I enveloped it in the healing aura. It even retained the heat.

“Shouldn’t you get going… My Lady?” Horus offered finally.

Eris jumped. “Ahh, right. Of course. Danae, come along.”

“Do I have to—”

And now Eris was glaring at me behind Horus’ back, her spirit burning away the mist around her and steam wafting from her armor. Which reminded me of how I’d convinced her to force Horus into letting me ride in the wagon.

To help spy on him, I’d said.

Why had that been so hard to remember?

Maybe I really had eaten too much…

So, with a sigh, my spirit wrapped my precious wagon in a few extra layers of shields – you could never be too safe when it came to killing death. Then another lifted me free from the wagon bed and set me down on my feet. I’d gotten quite good with my shields lately – inspired by Horus’ kitchen utensils. I couldn’t believe after centuries I hadn’t thought to use them for anything other than blocking things and healing.

Which is what I was thinking about as the two of us marched off into the mist. Or, at least, Eris did. Mine was more of a slow plod. Walking felt harder than normal—

And several minutes later, I discovered some things were worse than death.

Such as trying to keep up with Eris on foot – my chest heaving and my legs burning and my fur drenched with moisture. In short, I was miserable. Thankfully, I figured out a solution a half mile back. I could hop onto a shield and just float along—

Eris slowed abruptly, but I was ready. My shield popped, my feet hitting the ground. Eris only saw me stumble slightly, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“Report. Did you manage to ask my questions?” she demanded.

“Some of them…” I murmured. Most were weird.

“His favorite color?”

I winced, rubbing at my temple. The herbs and spices were wearing off and that headache I always got around Eris was coming back. She was just… a lot. Too much really.

“Blood. Which isn’t really a color,” I added under my breath. Not that she noticed.

“Of course. I should have known,” Eris murmured, her eyes blazing.

How long were we going to do this? All this walking and talking?

My stomach growled. A moment of weakness. Likely why this slipped out…

“Why are you asking these questions?” I muttered. “What does knowing his vessel’s birth date or his favorite author have to do with Kastor’s plot?”

Eris’ eyes blazed and she opened her mouth – likely to yell at me some more – only to pause, her brow pinched tight. She seemed conflicted. “It is important to know your enemy. I’m creating a detailed personality profile on Horus,” she explained.

I must have looked skeptical because Eris just huffed. “What about the patch of fur on his chest? Has it grown back yet?”

“It has,” I answered slowly, watching her.

“Hmm, interesting. Very interesting,” Eris murmured.

She always did this. I mean, both of them talked to themselves like I somehow couldn’t hear them. Or like I didn’t exist. Although, I supposed it made sense.

Why keep secrets from death?

But at least Horus didn’t caress a little vial of stolen hair while he did it. It was so weird. Way weirder than staging his own death, in my opinion. Or drugging Eris’ food. I swear it almost looked like Eris had woven the strands into the shape of a little person—

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Eris finally noticed me watching and the vial vanished in an instant.

She was about to ask me another question when she suddenly stopped.

The reason for her hesitation loomed out of the mist. A wall that towered high overhead, gradually appearing through the mist. It was made entirely of metal. At least several stories tall and stretching off in either direction toward the horizon. Even more interesting, the air here seemed to pulse and throb, a dull repetitive clang booming in the distance – like the heartbeat of some savage beast.

The highway ran straight toward that wall and simply ended.

There was no sign. No gate. Or opening. Or outbuildings.

Only a single pedestal with a massive red button resting on top.

The sign beside it said, “Push Me!”

Neither Eris nor I moved. Even without his signature written all over it, this was clearly the work of Nyx. Of death himself.

Which is why we were still standing there when Horus caught up with us, the creaking rumble of wood grinding to a halt and his hooves stomping the poo-crete as he approached.

“What are you both looking—Ahh,” Horus rumbled, his eyes focusing on that pedestal. “This is new. Do we know what the button—”

“No. No we don’t,” Eris snapped, her eyes bloodshot. A hundred flaming diagrams and designs hung around her – her many, many attempts to extrapolate the effects of that seemingly innocuous button. “I can see that it’s connected to some mechanical apparatus in the wall, but the design is convoluted and insane and I can’t determine more without taking it apart. It could open a gate, or conjure an army of murder robots, or let out an ungodly shriek that summons monsters… or even that Toxifovos. I mean, I can see that it has some sort of sound system, but its purpose is unknown.” The words flowed in a manic torrent.

Horus just looked at me with pleading, nervous eyes.

I let out another sigh. I knew just what to do in situations like this.

I offered Eris another piece of tempura. Thankfully, I’d already eaten half a plate during her tirade – now that my precious food wagon had caught back up, of course.

She took it absently and bit in with a crunch, her eyes squeezing closed in bliss.

“Should we just try pressing the button?” Horus offered a moment later – after the food had worked its magic. She tensed and his fingers were there – working out those knots in her shoulders. “I mean, what is the worst that can happen? He cannot kill us. Maybe Danae dies, but that will not affect our mission,” Horus continued gently.

My ears perked up at that. Promises, promises.

“You’re right. I know you’re right,” Eris murmured, her eyes half-lidded.

Yet neither of them moved. Horus just continued his massage, the elf leaning back into his soft, luxurious fur. She was also sitting on the wagon bed which… wasn’t ideal. Since they were blocking access to my precious food.

Another thing worse than death?

Dealing with these two lovesick idiots.

If I left them alone, they would stay like this for hours. Or, at least, until the herbs and spices wore off and Eris went crazy and started shooting beams of fire. And there was a non-zero chance that would damage my food. Which is why I had to do it.

Press the button, I mean.

I don’t know what I was expecting. But it wasn’t this…

The metal wall unfolded – or, at least, the outer panel did. The metal retracted, pivoted, and then telescoped outward to form a makeshift stage. One several hundred feet wide. The interior of the wall was filled with massive gears and springs, the contraption whirring and thunking and shooting off blasts of steam. Dark, mawing openings remained among all of that machinery, yet it wasn’t clear where they led.

Then the music started playing.

After the bamboo forest, I was expecting a wailing death ballad. One that would play endlessly in my nightmares. One that would encourage me to fight death with everything I had – specifically all of my remaining sauces and herbs and spices.

Instead, the sound that emerged was delightful. A beautiful peel of chords, rising and rising to an inevitable climax—

At which point, it… it got weird.

Specifically, the mechanical people came on stage.

They emerged from those dark portals in the wall. The disturbing mechanical imitations of savran and tavros and sapian and siren and many more races – their bodies haphazardly welded together and moving with jerky, chopping motions of their incredibly sharp arms. Their eyes burning red embers. Steam wafting from their mouths and coiling around their metallic bodies as they drifted around the stage. Dancing.

And worse… singing.

It's a life of murder, a life of tears,

It's a life of friendship, a life of fears,

There’s no point in prayer,

So we just want to share,

FJ contains alcohol!

They repeated that last line many times.

“What is FJ?” Eris murmured, twisting at her finger, eyes smoldering.

As soon as she spoke, the mechanical people began to projectile vomit what looked unmistakably like blood. At least, it had the same consistency and color. They actually got some decent distance, much of it washing up around our feet.

Although, I guess that answered Eris’ question.

The big glowing sign that read flickered on over the stage also helped.

“Friendship Juice®,” it said.

“Good gods…” That was Eris.

“So cool…” That was Horus.

Slurp. That was me.

“Are you drinking it?” Eris snapped at me, her composure cracking.

“It’s blood fruit,” I answered, from where I stood near the stage. The mechanical people took turns vomiting into my open mouth as they danced. Actually, this batch was way better than the stuff Horus made back at the PB&B. Nyx must have improved his recipe. I wondered if I could use my shields to scoop it up and save it for later—

Although, I didn’t get the chance.

Because a random chop from one of the creepy mechanical people suddenly sliced clean through neck of another approaching from the other side. The head went flying and crashed into the gears along the back wall, wedging tight. A metallic screech filled the air, steam jetting erratically as the mechanical people all ground to a halt. They stood there trembling, bucking and pitching, steam blasting from their seams in thick plumes.

The grinding metal also kicked up sparks which must have ignited the oil they were using to lubricate the machinery. That oil must have also been quite flammable. Because there was lots of fire. Although, at least, that burned off the steam. Now the mechanical people looked like infernal metal demons, their eyes ablaze as they melted.

Oh, and they were still vomiting blood.

I figured that was it – that was as bad as it could get.

Then they started to explode. One by one. In massive geysers of flaming oil. Jagged metal shrapnel ricocheted across the stage and rebounded off the poo-crete highway. My shields appeared in an instant. Horus and Eris didn’t even bother to dodge. Just stood there in stunned silence as the shrapnel swept past and the stage began to collapse, still on fire, of course. And I just took another bite of my tempura – still perfectly crisp.

Actually, it tasted even better if you dipped it in the FJ.

“What. Was. That?” Eris asked, each word its own sentence.

Ahh, and her eye was twitching. And her fingers were glowing.

This was bad. She was about to blow.

I just really hoped she didn’t aim at the wagon—

Mist suddenly sprayed from nozzles along the top of the stage, putting out the fires, and slowly cleaning the stage and surrounding highway of the FJ.

“Ahh, I’m so sorry about that! I’ll be with you in just a second!” a booming voice called out, so loud that it echoed out into the mists and my spirit had to form little shields around my tender ears. What sort of monster was that loud?

The gears began to grind again and then the entire wall shifted apart until it formed a large gap – one at least a dozen yards across. And standing in the opening was an entourage. Several savrans lined up and wearing matching uniforms. They held a sign between them, the cloth stretched out into a banner that read, “Welcome Horus and Eris!”

That was odd, but even more surprising was that the group was led by a vulpin. The one with the cane, glasses, and robe. It was embroidered with a big “P.” He was also holding a tube of bamboo, ripping the tendrils off his paw as they tried to latch onto him.

“Again, my apologies,” the vulpin said in a more normal voice, trying many times to toss away the bamboo tube. “Still working out some kinks. But my name is DJ ‘lil P and we’ve been expecting you! You must be Eris and Horus, right?”

Eris looked like she was experiencing brain bleeding. A “stroke,” she called it.

Although, Horus was more eager, a broad smile on his face. “That is right. I am Horus. Did you say your name was DJ ‘lil P? That is very strange.”

“Yeah, it was given to me by Commissar Nyx.”

“Did you say Nyx?” Eris demanded, suddenly stooped over DJ ‘lil P. “Is he here? Where is he? Bring me to him now!” Her eyes blazed and heat radiated off of her in waves.

Although, DJ ‘lil P wasn’t nervous. “Ahh, right. He said you’d want to meet him, but he isn’t here right now. He’ll be back in a few days. In the meantime—”

Eris’ eyes flashed, raising her glowing fingers toward the vulpin—

“He told me to have food and baths waiting for you.”

The beams from Eris’ fingers glanced off the edge of a hasty golden shield and rebounded safely into the poo-crete, leaving small puddles of magma at her feet.

I had to intervene. There was food at stake.

Eris looked more conflicted, her mental wheels spinning. After spending weeks with her, I could anticipate her clever, agile, and entirely logical mind. On the one hand, we were walking into enemy territory. And on the other…

“There’s a bath?” Eris insisted.

“Yes, of course. Nyx helped design it himself.”

The elf flinched. “Is it clean? Safe? Not filled with poison or acid or… shit?”

“Of course not,” the vulpin replied, sounding offended.

“And not built of shit?” Eris added.

“No, not…” DJ ‘lil P hesitated. “Uh, well, actually, it might be.”

Eris looked like she was about to murder him again.

“Although, they’re lined with metal! The poo-crete is mostly structural anyway. And we regularly give them a high-pressure steam cleaning. They’re very sanitary…”

The elf blinked twice. That was a sign that she was still processing.

“Fine. Take us to this bath—” Eris began.

“And the food,” Horus and I both interjected.

“Of course,” DJ ‘lil P answered. “Just follow me.”

And, with that, we entered Apati, the gate screeching closed behind us, a mechanical creature falling from the stage and crushed between several hundred tons of metal.

“I love this place,” Horus murmured as he and Eris walked off after the other vulpin. Quietly, of course. So, Eris couldn’t hear.

I wanted to agree – I almost did. I mean, there was food.

But there were also doubts. Like the fact that no one had died yet. That was unusual. Also, the way the savrans with DJ ‘lil P watched Eris and Horus with a predatory gleam in their eyes, their lips peeled back in a feral grin.

Let’s just say my “death sense” was tingling.

And it was never wrong. Never.