I don’t know what I’d been expecting from Rodney’s apartment, but it was probably the opposite of what it ended up being. Pastel green walls that belonged in a 1970’s home catalog were covered in tiny paintings of landmarks from various cities around the country interspersed with dreamcatchers and eye beads. There were shelves overflowing with every knick knack and tchotchke under the sun: Russian nesting dolls, snow globes, statuettes, baskets, and everything in between. It reminded me of nothing more than a stereotypical doting grandmother’s paradise, where she’d pinch your cheeks, feed you outrageous amounts of food, wrap you up in a quilt she’d been working on and generally smother you in affection. It did not square at all with the gruff but kind biker who led us inside.
When Rodney’s wife Kristina emerged from the kitchen with a beaming smile and a flour-dusted apron, it started making more sense. Some people like to claim that they have old souls if they’re trying to sound more mature or mysterious. Kristina didn’t have to claim it; I could instantly tell she was an eighty-year-old grandma trapped in a late-thirties shell. Her smile was wide and welcoming and just the slightest bit surprised, like we had just dropped in out of nowhere and it had made her whole week that we were here. The scent of baking cookies wafting out of the kitchen just clinched it. There was no way we were getting out of this apartment without gaining a few pounds of food weight and an honorary aunt.
“Welcome!” Her voice was honey, smooth and sweet. “Rodney has told me so much about you!”
I cast the big man a questioning glance, and he just shrugged unrepentantly. The perils of nonverbal communication with a near-stranger. Of course he had told her what he knew about us, who wouldn’t tell their wife about the random teenagers they’d decided to bring over? It was the ‘so much’ part that was the source of my curiosity. Rodney didn’t even know much about us, never mind the so.
“Thank you for having us, ma’am.” Danielle said, unfailingly polite and extending a hand to shake. Kristina took one look at it and immediately bypassed it to wrap Danielle in a big hug. The heiress froze, then awkwardly patted the older woman on the back.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Kristina jumped back, looking dismayed. “I got flour all over your shirt!”
“It’s fine, ma’am.” Danielle gave a hesitant smile back to the exuberant woman, who beamed.
“Psh, ma’am, so polite! Just call me Kristina, dear!” She turned to me. “And you must be Connor!”
“Um, yes ma’am. Thank you for having us.” I was trying to follow Danielle’s lead, but without any of the practiced poise.
“So formal, both of you.” Kristina shook her head, smiling. “Did you put them up to this, Roddy?”
The big man laughed. “Nah, this is just who they are. Good thing I met 'em on the train, yeah?” I narrowed my eyes in confusion at that. Was being polite and formal a problem? And why?
“Well, come on, you two must be hungry.” She paused, then tilted her head. “Two? I thought there were three of you?”
I coughed. “Jerry’s gone off to meet some friends of his in town for now. We’re meeting back up with him later.” I lied. I had no idea where Jerry was, but that had been what popped into my head when Rodney asked earlier, and I was sticking to that story. It had the advantage of maybe being true. Who knows why he would do that without telling us about it first, but Jerry worked in mysterious ways. I was frankly hoping it was something like that and not a probably cult-related abduction. Surely our luck couldn’t be that bad.
Kristina just shrugged in acceptance. “His loss! Now just put your bags down anywhere and let’s get some food in you! Are they staying the night, Roddy? I can clear a space and bring out the air mattress. What do you two like for dinner? Any food allergies?”
“Let them breathe, Kris.” Rodney said gently, voice full of affection. It shouldn’t have surprised me. I knew Rodney was a bear of a man with a heart of gold. Still, you don’t expect someone of his stature to be quite that soft-spoken. He’d certainly been boisterous enough outside.
“Fine, fine. We’ll talk later.” She winked at us before striding back into the kitchen and gesturing us to follow. Bemused, I dropped my bags by the overstuffed couch and entered the kitchen. The table was already practically overflowing with various cold cuts and sandwich ingredients alongside both standard and potato salad. Kristina was humming to herself as she pulled a sheet of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. It was delightfully domestic.
The next ten minutes were largely devoted to remembering exactly how meager my breakfast had been and rectifying that mistake with gusto. Kristina still managed to pepper me and Danielle with questions mostly about our preferences in food and decor and bathroom supplies. It felt like she was making a profile for both of us in case we ended up staying here. Judging from how excited she looked the whole time, there was no ‘in case’ for her. She’d already decided we were going to stay and arguing was futile. Rodney seemed to have accepted it with good humor. I was just baffled that we'd been quasi-adopted at first sight.
“So.” Rodney leaned back, having tucked away three stacked sandwiches and a good bit of potato salad. “Today treating you better as an intro to Cincy?”
I exchanged a glance with Danielle, then decided to bite the bullet. “Kinda ran into the same problem as last night? No drunks, just pushy cultist-types.”
If I hadn’t been used to the Harp mask that Danielle put on in public, I might have missed how Kristina’s smile froze into something a little more brittle as I mentioned cultists. “Oh?” Her voice was still sweet, but just a few degrees cooler than it had been. “Do they have a name?”
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “The Hierophants of the Zodiac. Are they common around here?” I said carefully, watching the reactions of our hosts. Rodney frowned outright, but Kristina just froze her expression even further, her smile becoming so tense it felt like it would snap at any moment. Her eyes were the worst part, though. The warmth in those brown orbs had vanished, and she looked more like a cornered animal than anything. Something was definitely up.
Fortunately, we didn’t exactly need to pry to find out what. “Fucking HZ’s.” Rodney spat. “Cult’s probably too good a word for ‘em.”
“You know them?” Danielle asked.
He nodded grimly. “Kinda hard not to. They’re a bit infamous around town. I’d tell you to steer clear, but might be a little late for that warning.”
“The first one just seemed like a regular creep.” I said hesitantly, gauging Kristina’s reaction. She still hadn’t moved from her frozen posture. “It was when I stumbled into the little psychic shop that they really freaked me out.” That revelation seemed to break Rodney’s wife out of her trance.
“The one by Washington Park?” Gone was her friendly tone and pep, replaced by something that was best described as haunted. Definitely some history there, probably to the level of PTSD. No matter how curious I was about this Nexus business, I wasn’t nearly curious enough to risk going through something that would leave me looking like that at the mere mention of the group.
“That’s the one.” I confirmed sadly. Her facade crumpled at that, stopping by terror and exhaustion to land on concern. Rodney reached a hand over to take one of hers in comfort. “I… I’m afraid I might already be on their radar.”
“Don’t.” Kristina’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “Don’t ever go back there. He won’t let you go. He’ll make you think it’s all your idea as he empties you out. Promise me you won’t.”
“I already wasn’t planning on it.” I said firmly. “Now I’ll avoid it like the plague. Say no more.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Nah, kid.” Rodney said morosely. “We’re gonna have to say some more.”
Danielle blinked. “But why? Shouldn’t it be relatively easy to avoid this one group?”
Rodney sighed. “The HZ’s… they’re nothing if not persistent. If you got on their radar, you’re gonna need to take some precautions.” He frowned thoughtfully. “How exactly did you get their interest? Tell us everything.”
I dutifully relayed what I remembered of both encounters, including how the mystic accountant knew my name and seemed to speak in his weird chorus-voice at the end. I was watching Kristina’s reaction the whole time as she seemed to shrink in on herself more and more as I relayed the conversation I’d had in the shop. At the mention of the chorus-voice at the end, she gave a pitiful moan.
“Adam fucking Smith.” She spat, the venom in her voice such a contrast to the affection she’d greeted us with.
“The Scottish economist?” I asked in confusion.
Rodney gave a weak chuckle. “Trust me, the invisible hand is the least of your worries with him.”
“No one’s even sure if that’s his real name.” Kristina went on. “Or just something generic he picked to divorce himself from his old identity. Because that’s what he does, that’s what he’s good at. Taking away your individuality, molding you to fit his purposes. Convincing you to hollow yourself out until the only parts that are left are the ones he wants to be there and telling you that is what Fate had ordained. Spilling poison in your ear about how Fate moves through him outside of Lists, how he can guide you to greater fulfillment than any Fulfiller has ever achieved.”
Well that was existentially terrifying. Also just the regular sort of horrifying. It’s the kind of thing that cults were known for, but most didn’t seem quite so extreme. From what little I’d read, most would try to convince you that your List was actually steering you towards them, towards contributing more time and money and loyalty to their specific group. To undermine the very concept of following your List while promising that Fate was still working a greater purpose through you? It made a sick sort of sense. It was all the appeal of being both a Fatebreaker and a Fulfiller, rebelling against what Fate had assigned you while getting a substitute for the rewards of a tick mark.
“That’s… how?” Danielle asked. “I just… how can someone convince you to leave your List behind?”
Kristina gave a rueful smile. “I doubt it would work on you, sweetheart. But if he gets his hooks in before you get that first tick mark?” She shook her head. “It all seems so convincing then. It starts small, a community to vent with. A few little ideas about how direct pursuit doesn’t work for everyone. A few more comments on how maybe focusing on something bigger than yourself can help you as an individual. Nothing inherently objectionable or revolutionary yet, there’s plenty of good groups that preach that kind of thing too.”
She grimaced. “Then he twists it. By that point you’ve already been turned off from being a full-on Fulfiller and gotten used to the idea of working for a group as the best way forward. Of course you’ve shared your frustrations over how vague or hard your point seems, and he’s so convincing. Goes on about statistics of those who have their first tick mark by a certain age, the probabilities of ticking one off based on the number of words your first point contains. Surely that many numbers can’t lie. So you ask for advice, and he’s only too happy to give it.”
“Three goddamn years later and you’re a shell of yourself living only for his approval and reassurance.” She spat. “Until one day you very literally bump into a giant tattooed man on the street and within five minutes your arm lights up with that telltale first mark.” She raised her wrist and gave a fond look to Rodney. “It’s Fate, of course, finally paying off for you. You’re so excited. This man gets your number before you go, but right then you barely care. You just want to rush back and tell Adam all about it, how his process finally worked out for you.”
She scowled. “He barely cares, of course. Tries to remind you that Fate doesn’t always work through Lists, that they should be a secondary concern for the noble Hierophants of the Zodiac. Those chosen few are called to a greater purpose, to show the world a new way of conceiving of what Fate even is. A List for the world, one that of course only Adam can see and interpret. What’s one young woman’s tick mark before a calling like that?”
“Luckily.” Rodney picked up the story. “That man you ran into on the street is a stubborn son of a bitch and is not about to let that little lady who was so excited about finally getting her first tick mark get away so easily. I must have called thirty times those first few days afterward, left so many voicemails. Course she was living at a place that they owned, so it wasn’t the easiest getting through to her. Had to look up the phone number and find the address that way, then wait until I saw her leaving. Felt a bit like a stalker, but it worked out in the end, huh?”
Kristina smiled. “He was lucky he found me on a bad day. Well, bad for back then, which meant doubting. I was finally trying to research a little on my own and had gotten a little bit of that new point mania. Seeing Rodney again just sealed the deal for me. Of course he frustrated the hell out of me first.”
He shrugged unrepentantly. “I just asked her about how the HZ’s did things, really asked her. Pressed her for sources about all those numbers Adam was throwing around. About whether there was any proof of his bits on the world’s own List. Things he had managed to build up for her little by little, finding the cracks in the foundation.”
“It sucked.” Kristina said fondly. “And it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I finally had to take a long look at myself and realize I barely recognized the face in the mirror. My dreams weren’t my own anymore. I’d let myself become a puppet for someone who I don’t think knows how to care about anyone other than himself.”
I hope I wasn’t expected to respond right away, because I genuinely had no idea how. How do you reply to a friendly near-stranger detailing their traumatic youth being indoctrinated into a cult led by the guy you had a chance encounter with earlier that day? Sorry doesn’t seem to cut it. Defusing things with a joke is way too disrespectful. A quiet period of contemplation maybe?
“A question.” Or you wait for Danielle to say something, that works too. “If you don’t mind.”
Kristina waved permissively, a bit of life returning to her eyes. “Ask away, I already spilled my guts. Not many more lines left you could cross, but I’ll let you know if you hit one.”
Danielle nodded respectfully. “Thank you. And thank you for sharing, that can’t have been easy. This Adam Smith apparently called Connor here a Nexus. Does that term sound at all familiar?”
Kristina pursed her lips. “This was years ago for me, and he could get a bit long winded at times. That said, it does ring a bell. And I’m afraid it’s not good news.”
“When is it ever?” I muttered. “Except meeting you guys, that was obviously great news for us.”
“Nice save.” Rodney stage-whispered.
“He talked about the Nexus being a bridge to the Fate of the world.” Kristina continued, completely disregarding our byplay. “Something he said would bring him closer to fulfilling it. It was why he liked getting his hooks into people just after their Fool’s Day or those who were struggling to get their first tick mark. Something about infinite potential to be found in those who were blank? Sorry, I can’t remember more specifics than that.”
“No no, thank you. That’s definitely enough to go off of.” I rubbed the back of my neck self-consciously. “It’s true that I don’t have my first tick mark yet. Did he try to recruit people like that, by making them feel like they could be some special Nexus?”
Kristina shook her head. “He didn’t for me at least. I can’t speak for others. It was never in the pitch I was taught to give at any rate.”
“And I’d never heard of it before today.” Rodney added, shrugging. “I keep tabs on it all when I can. If I can keep someone like my lovely wife from throwing away years of their life on that shit, you bet your ass I’m gonna.” Kristina gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“My hero.” She said with a smile.
“It seems we are in your debt.” Danielle said with a little seated bow.
Rodney gave a bark of laughter. “No debts levied or owed, Dani-girl.”
She frowned. “But-”
“No buts!” Kristina interrupted. “We’re happy to have guests, and you two are staying. That's final."
“Yes ma’am.” I answered almost on instinct. Danielle shot me a look like she’d been gearing up for another protest and I’d derailed her. I could only offer a helpless shrug in response. It was either this or find another hotel for the night, and we were already here. What could it hurt?
“Thank you for your hospitality.” Danielle added, apparently conceding.
Kristina clapped. “Lovely! Will you pass on to your other friend that he’s welcome to join us here too?”
The thought of Jerry brought my worries back from their hibernation. The new context we’d just gotten about the Hierophants of the Zodiac just made it worse. I knew Jerry was far too cynical and critical to fall for something like the pitch Kristina had described willingly, but she had gotten out years ago. Who’s to say they hadn’t changed their modus operandi in that time? And there had been the annoying discovery on the walk over here that he had somehow managed to block our phones from contacting friends and family back in Glenbrook. I’d had to bum Rodney’s phone to call Alyssa and reassure her that I wasn’t dead. I could kinda see the logic behind it making us harder to track down, but the fact that he hadn’t asked or told us he was doing it left a sour taste in my mouth. Jerry had a bad habit of thinking he knew better than everyone else. I hoped it hadn’t gotten him into serious trouble this time.
I sent the text either way, but just told him to call one of us for the address. Paranoid maybe, but I think it was justified after everything that had happened today. I didn’t think accidentally leading a cult to an ex-member’s front door was a good way of paying back hospitality. Call me old-fashioned that way.