The initial strike wasn’t quite what we expected.
We were so used to the cult’s reliance on magic that we weren’t even thinking about the possibility of them using mundane means. Thankfully, between having noticed movement outside and Akshainie’s preternatural reflexes, she was in position to stop the first bullet from hitting the bishop.
“I need my armor!” she called as we all hit the floor, her arm bleeding where the shot had hit. I grabbed the bishop and shoved him out of the room. We ran down the hall and I heard shots begin and things in the kitchen breaking, hopeful most of that noise was Akshainie taking on her larger and more well-defended form. We made our way through the stone house, avoiding windows as much as possible, until we found a secure room to wait. I waited by the door, clenching my fists and trying to think through my options.
“That woman!” he cried, pacing behind me. “Oh God, she’s probably dead and they’re on their way to kill us…”
“She’s fine,” I said, “ Akshainie can handle her own. Now shut up before they find you.”
“You came to protect me, surely you have a gun or something?”
“I don’t carry a gun.”
“But you’re an American!”
“I’m a black American. I decided having a gun wasn’t worth the hassle of being seen with a gun.”
“Then what do we do?”
“What you do is shut up! Let me try something.” I closed my eyes and thought hard about what I’d learned concerning my relationship to the Metaphysical Realm. If what I actually did was set the rules in a given place, maybe I could use that somehow? I quickly considered and dismissed a handful of ideas before I settled on one that seemed worth a shot. I focused, I tried really hard to define my space, to make something specific true of the area that hadn’t been true a moment before.
“What the hell is this?” Kastor demanded. I opened my eyes and looked down at him.
“What worked?” the bishop asked. I held up a finger, telling him to wait, and he grunted and slumped into a chair.
“Did you summon me?” Kastor asked, hands on his hips. “I didn’t think you could do that!”
“I think I get to decide what I can do, within reason.”
“This isn’t within reason! I was with this dryad, Johnny, you never saw—”
“Listen, this is important!” I grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a good shake. “There are cultists here trying to kill us and I’m not really armed to deal with them. Akshainie is out there alone right now. Can you get her some backup?”
“I don’t know! Whoever’s around, get them to help her stop the cultists!”
“Why would they do that?” he asked, pushing my hands off him.
“The cultists were corrupting the ley network.”
“Is that why it’s so…weird, right now? It feels like it got fucked up.”
“It’s…related to that. I’ll explain later. Can you do this, or not?”
“Yeah, yeah, let me see what I can do. But you owe me big for this!”
“Are you talking to yourself!?” the bishop demanded. Kastor and I both looked at him.
“Oh for crying out loud, look,” I said. I shifted the rules a bit, and soon the bishop jumped up from his seat.
“Is that a demon!?”
“I’m a faun,” Kastor answered, before turning to me again. “You can make people see me?”
“I think I know how you’re going to pay me back for this.”
“I’m not paying you back for shit if you don’t get moving!”
Kastor grumbled as he ran off, and I slumped against the wall and held my head. It was starting to throb, and I considered the possibility I had pushed too much too quickly. The bishop was praying under his breath and trying to control the look of shock on his face, but I decided it was best to leave him to it. Pretty soon I heard thunder, and screaming, and then the door flew open and Akshainie, covered in small wounds and fully in her naga form, shoved her upper body in.
“There you are!” She said. “Are you aware there’s a small army of weather spirits and some kind of goat man killing the cultists?”
“I’m aware I owe the goat man one hell of a favor,” I answered.
“And what are you!?” the bishop screamed. Akshainie and I both looked at him.
“Busy!” she yelled, before slipping back out of the room and rushing down the hall. There was a brief burst of gunshots, which were quickly silenced. I shrugged.
“She knows what she’s doing,” I said. “You should work on the way you introduce yourself to spirits.” He stared at me for a minute, then went back to praying as I closed the door.
The blog of John Matteson.