《The Gardens of Infinite Violence》 [Part I - Already Lost] Chapter 1 - Lucky Lucky It was the same every time: He drank a bottle of whiskey and shot himself in the head. The bullet bounced off his temple and landed somewhere across the room with a neutered clink. There was no pain. No blood. The gun went back on the table. Twice a day. For seven fucking years. The same every time. # The day before it all started was no different. He sat at the slanted linoleum tablecrowded with empty bottles and crumpled plastic bagshail pebbling his trailers aluminum roof, brown light bleeding through the misshapen slits in the scuffed, plastic blinds. The whisper of bugs and rodents from the heaps of dirty laundry in the trailers dark corners was the only sign that he was not completely alone. He used his fathers old Smith & Wesson Model 19 revolver. He could parse the moment: The flash from the muzzle, followed by the bullets contact with his skin, then a little half-step of silence, then the BANG. The first thousand or so times he didnt notice the gaps; it all seemed to happen at once, a single phenomenon of light, contact and sound. But once he noticed, it became impossible to ignore. FlashcontactBANG. Three disparate phenomena. It turned out these intervals were hidden everywhere. It turned out the world was mostly distance. A leaky, vacant place. The speed of light is the speed of causation, he used to tell his AP science students. But those were just words. Benno used to believe in words. Benno used to believe in science. The bullet left ashy residue on his temple. No hole. No wound. The only pain hed felt in seven years was the unremitting misery couched deep in the folds of his unreachable brain. And yet he triedFlashcontactBANGas if something might change. As if the Hell that had gripped him for seven years would suddenly relent. As if thats how Hell worked. The hail pitched sideways, drumming along the trailers thin walls. Here I am. Here I still am. He set the revolver back on the table, pulled on his coat, and made the long walk to the liquor store. # The television mounted over the register showed a commercial for sleep medication, muted. Whats your secret? Mickey the cashier asked, setting a bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Everyone else who drinks like you either gave it up or died already. Benno fished a wad of crumpled cash from his pocket, his hand tremulous. He watched Mickeys old, blind mother, who sat listless on a stool in front of the cigarette rack, her lips caked with dry spittle, her foggy eyes staring at nothing. Saw this thing online, Mickey went on. About trees. Turns out theyve been around for, like, millions of years. Hundreds of millions. Benno said, his voice hoarse from disuse, his stomach shuddering at the terrible implications of such a staggering timescale. Yeah. Well, apparently, back when trees first appeared, there was nothing around to eat them. Mickey made a falling motion with his forearm. Like when they fell. Animals and stuff didnt have the whats it called? Enzymes. Right. To digest trees. So back then, when a tree fell, it didnt rot or anything. It didnt change or go anywhere. It just laid on the ground forever. The register clanged open. Benno ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth. Mickey slammed the register shut. I mean, look at you, man. You look the same as you did the first time you walked in here. What, six years ago? Seven? Besides the beard. But no gray, not a wrinkle. So whats your secret? Mickeys mother swayed slightly on the stool, then stilled. I guess its just genetic. Benno forced a weak smile. Mickeys shoulders slumped. Yeah thats how it is. Sucks for me. All the men in my family die of heart attacks in their forties. Lucky, Benno thought, turning for the door, already digging at the plastic on the bottles neck with an uncut fingernail. What did he say? Mickeys mother asked, her voice gruff. Benno paused. Mickey sighed. He didnt say anything, Ma. Her wiry eyebrows folded over her chalky eyes. He said lucky. The stool creaked as she sat forward, one knurled finger pointing vaguely in Bennos direction. Lucky. Lucky! Take it easy, Ma. Mickeys freckled hand patted his mothers shoulder. Youre just a little confused. The old woman took a disgruntled breath, fresh spittle gathered on her cracked lips, then lowered her head and closed her eyes. Mickey turned to Benno, his mouth knotted with embarrassment. Sorry, he said. Were working on finding the right medication. Had Benno accidentally spoken aloud? He was certain he hadnt. Just a stupid coincidence. Good luck with that, he said. Thanks, yeah. Mickey nodded. See you tomorrow, Benno. # The hail stopped and the clouds dissolved as Benno walked along the shoulder of the narrow dirt road, which essed through the woods toward his trailer. A low, cold sun flirted along the canopy of dead branches, casting long, gangly shapes in the pale light. Something stirred in the thick brush off the roadside, and two orange eyes peered out through a flank of briar. A cat, dark gray and so large that Benno mistook it at first for a cougar. It padded out alongside the brittle grass, then stopped and looked back at him. Benno had never seen it before, despite walking this road every day for seven years. It had a collar from which a flat glass triangle dangled, and in which Benno saw himself reflected. It seemed far too large to be anyones pet. As Benno passed, it turned, insouciant, and soughed back into the brush. Benno drank straight from the bottle. Though he couldnt get drunk, he could feel the warmth of the whiskey in his throat and stomach, and achieve a vague numbness in his brain. But he couldnt lose his balance or see double or black out. He couldnt access euphoria or forgetfulness. No matter how hard he tried. There wasnt much of a point to it, but there wasnt much of a point to anything anymore. And how else was he supposed to fill his time? A person needed something to do. His nearest neighbors were still over a mile from his trailer; the Rogers family lived in a rundown single story prefab on a few acres of hairy land. Jason Rogers rusted pickup sat in the driveway, speckled with melting hail. The few toys scattered across the lawn were for a child much younger than Asher, who mustve been eight or nine by then. Benno had only seen the boy a handful of times over the years. He was small and withdrawn, and kept his eyesand the bruises beneath themhidden behind his bangs. Every other time Benno passed the house he heard Jason yelling inside. Today was one of those days. You ugly fucking slut! Gimme that fucking phone! Please, Kathy Rogers implored, her voice thin from years of smoking and whatever else. Dont do this in front of him You baby him! Jasons voice broke, and somethinga plate perhapsbroke too. Thats why he cries all the time like a little fucking faggot! Benno slowed to a stop on the roadside and listened. He tried to picture Kathy and Asher at that moment. Cowering, perhaps, helpless against the much larger Jason. Maybe Kathy placed herself between her husband and son, to shield the boy from Jasons wrath. Maybe Jason threw her aside, or seized her by the hair or the throat. Did Kathy fight back? Did Asher? Or did that make things worse? Was it better to go limp, to play dead, mother and son, in the path of the bear? Benno tried to picture them But their faces were not their own. His mind twisted them into the faces of another boy, another woman A man like Jason Rogers was the worst kind of man. A man who didnt appreciate what he had. A man who lavished torment on the most vulnerable and valuable things in his life. How precious a family, how precious even the memory of one. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Bennos thoughts were interrupted as the prefabs front door clapped open and Jason Rogers stomped out, his face red, his necks veins bulging, clutching his trucks keys in one calloused fist as his booted feet clomped down the porch steps and crunched over the icy yard. He made it about halfway to his truck before he noticed Benno standing in the road. The fuck? Jason squinted against the low sun. Benno considered walking off. He also considered rushing forward and taking Jason by his collar, dragging him to the ground, and teaching him what helplessness felt like. This second impulse was so compelling that he took a step forward before it passed. Jason glared. What are you doing, creep? Benno swigged his whiskey. Why dont you fuck off out of here? Jason pointed off down the road in the direction of Bennos trailer. I was just passing by, Benno said. Looks more like youre spying on my family. Now it was Jasons turn to step forward, kicking aside a rusty toy truck Asher had long outgrown. He was a big mana few inches taller than Benno and at least fifty pounds heavier. You some kind of pervert? He puffed out his chest, his eyes bent with anger. Trying to get your ass beat? Benno stood slouched, the Jack Daniels dangling from his hand, holding Jasons stare. For a long moment, the only sound was Kathy crying inside the prefab. Jason looked away first. Mind your own fucking business. He stomped to his truck. Benno swigged his whiskey as the trucks engine gagged to life. It was a cruel world. His heart ached for Kathy and Asher and the terrible things they were forced to endure. But terrible things were happening all the time. There were a million Jason Rogers. It wasnt Bennos business and it wasnt his responsibility. It was a cruel fucking world. Thats just how it was. He lowered his head and continued toward his trailer as Jasons truck screeched off down the road in the other direction. Just through the tree line, the large cat followed Benno like a shadow. # He finished the bottle and shot himself again, this time in the roof of his mouth. The bullet bounced around his teeth and gums, bending itself into a raisin-shaped hunk which he spat onto the trailers linoleum floor. Chalky gunpowder coated his tongue. He was almost out of ammo, but what was the point in buying more? It was insane to keep trying like this. But it had been insane for seven years. He didnt know what else to do. He had tried so many ways: Guzzling bleach just made him a little sleepy; Jumping from rooftops left person-shaped craters in the pavement, and crowds of upset spectators; Drowning made him cough; Setting himself on fire left him naked and covered in soot. Hed tried different guns and ammorifles and shotgunswith identical, dismaying outcomes. And of course there had been the train Just thinking about it induced a spike of guilt so violent that he struck the table with his fist, toppling a row of empty bottles. All those people. Making their way home from work or school, simply trying to live their lives. It had been early on, before hed known just how permanent his situation was. Had he any inkling, he never wouldve lay down on those tracks. He never wouldve interjected himself into other lives, foisted his Hell onto other people. Those poor, poor people The image of the wreckagetwenty cars coiled alongside the tracks, torn to shreds, flames crackling, black smokewas seared into his mind. The screams of the injured, the death rattles of the dying. The smell of burning metal and flesh. But Benno knew a worse smell. A smell no one should ever smell. Iron and raw fat. And something else. Something unnamable. Drumming on the trailers roof. More hail. Benno hauled himself from the table and fished through the junk drawer beside the twin bed until he found his phone. He never used it anymorehe had no one left to call. He plugged it in and stared at his face reflected in its black glass while it came sluggishly to life, then crawled onto the mattress and pulled the oily sheets over his head. He remembered being a child and hiding in bed like this, the blankets tented over him, using a flashlight to read naughty entries from his fathers encyclopedia. Anus. Testicles. Intercourse. Back then hed needed privacy to indulge his shame. Hed needed darkness and shelter. The same was true now, only the objects of his shame were different. He scrolled through his photos. He liked the one of the three of them at home on Christmashis wifes holiday, since Benno had noneall wearing matching checkered pajamas, his sons little arms wrapped around Bennos neck, his legs locked around his abdomen. Climbing the Daddy tree, he called it. Theyd bought their son a game console that year. He was so happy hed cried. It was one of the last times Benno ever saw him cry. All the ways he grew surprised Benno. Those years sped by so blindingly fast. Everyone told him, but nothing prepared him. His wife struggled with it more than he did. She once said that from the moment their son was born, some invisible monster had started dragging him away from her. Benno hadnt understood. But seven years latera fallen tree, undigestiblehed come to know that monster intimately. He traced their faces with his finger, his pillow damp with tears. Their faces, drawn so close to his eyes and yet locked at a distance he could not cross. He traced his own face, mourning that man, too, whod had everything, who smiled in front of a Christmas tree, happyor happy enoughoblivious to what awaited in a future obscured by the monstrous boundaries of time. # He dreamed he walked along the dirt road to his trailer. The sky was white. His sneakers scrrrched on the icy ground. A large gray cat plodded ahead of him, its wide paws silent. It looked back at Benno from orange eyes, the glass triangle on its collar reflecting Bennothough it was angled as such that it shouldnt have. It stopped and crouched over something on the ground. As Benno neared, it stood and bounded off, disappearing into the woods. Where it had been, a small blue flower grew from the snow, its petals speckled with flecks of ice. Benno knelt and touched it, knowing well it shouldnt be there, out in this cold. It would die. It should have been dead. Benno pulled the flower up from the base of its stem. Its long roots came free from the icy pavement and trailed like black thread. Overcome by instinct, he placed it in his mouth, his warm mouth, and chewed. It was bitter. It had been years since hed eaten food. The roots were sweet and wet. But the flower had barbs on it, and it lodged in his throat when he tried to swallow. He craned his neck and swallowed again, but the flower only wedged deeper. No matter, he thought. I dont need to breathe. The flower wiggled and bulged and blew its own breath from its petals, which worked its way up Bennos throat and past his tongue and teeth, and a Voice emerged. Not his voice. A genderless, monotone Voice. SUBJECT LOCUS IDENTIFIED... REALM CODE: E7H488 DECIMAL 51. With the Voice unfurled a flood of darkness from Benno''s mouth, which engulfed the road and the woods and the sky. RECALIBRATING SUBJECT LOCUS. NEW REALM CODE: M2D923 DECIMAL 01 Benno floated in the darkness. Weightless. Bodiless. INITIALIZING LOCUS RECALIBRATION A sound rose up. A whir. Benno tried to open his eyes but he had none. He tried kicking his legs, to roll over, but there were no legs to kick, no body to roll. The whirring swelled and swarmed and crashed like a turbulent wave. The darkness condensed. It felt like being smothered. It felt, perhaps, like dying. Would it stop? Or would it crush him into an ever smaller point, flood the deepest reaches of his mind until he was indistinguishable from it, for the rest of eternity. A fresh Hell. Why would he expect anything else? His lifehis empty, relentless lifewas a portrait of misery. It had been that way for seven years, and it would be that way forever more. Only now the prison was smaller. He would not wish it on anyone, and yet was convincedas the whirring roared and the darkness constrictedthat he deserved it. It served him right. How could such a careful punishment be mislaid? There was nothing to do but surrender And as he did, the whirring stopped, and he awoke. # He sat up slowly. He was accustomed to nightmares, but this one had been so strange, so specific. Maybe the alcohol was finally catching up to him. It was a hopeful thought. He got up and started for the bathroom, wiping the blurriness from his eyes with a shaking hand and squinting into the gray morning light. If enough alcohol could rot his brain, then maybe enough bullets could penetrate his skull, or a jump from a high enough Where am I? he asked a room hed never seen before. Lime-green wallpaper. A coarse, salmon-colored carpet under his bare feet. A single beige chair beside a low beige table in one corner. A television atop a dresser on the far wall. Pink wall-length curtains drawn over a window. Not his trailer. He looked back at the bed. A full-sized bed, still made, its nondescript mustard-colored sheets impressed with the vague outline of his body. The sheets had distinct hospital folds at the corners. A drinking glass, upside down on the bedside table. A fire-exit floor plan affixed on the inside of the door. He was in a motel room. A shitty motel room. He touched his forehead. How had this happened? He thought back to the night before: He drank, as he always did. He climbed into bed, in his trailer, and fell asleep clutching his phone. He never blacked out from drinkinghe wasnt able. Had he sleepwalked? He had never sleepwalked before. Was he still dreaming? He flexed his toes on the coarse carpet. It was there. He was standing on it. He crossed to the window and threw back the curtains. The morning light swallowed up his vision and he tented a hand over his eyes. What is this? His thoughts stuttered and his mouth fell open. What He lurched forward and vomited warm whiskey onto the salmon-colored carpet, then blinked up through the window from bleary eyes. In the white sky, an enormous, disembodied heart pulsed and bled. It was five times bigger than a full moon. Its pale, sinewy musculature glistened. The immense openings of its ablated arteries flared and contracted. A torrent of foggy blood rained down from it, disappearing beyond the horizon. It beatabout once per secondin total silence. The landscape was otherwise antithetically banal: Simple grassy hills rolling on and on as far as Benno could see. No trees, no plants beside the brittle, yellowish grass, and nothing alive in sight. The white sky, unmarredwhether cloud cover or the atmosphere itself was impossible to saywas vacant save for the giant, ghoulish heart. Benno staggered back from the window. His own, smaller heart thudded in his chest at three-times the rate of the giant one in the sky. Is this it? Benno had spent so much time imagining death. For the sake of his wife and son he hoped for heavenbut knew deep down that death was an endless expanse of nothingness. Or was it a cheap motel and a monstrous, floating heart? Were the last seven years purgatory, and this, now, somehow, finally, his ultimate fate? A wordless, winding sob escaped his mouth. Is this it? He collapsed to his knees. Were his wife and son here, too? The thought of them in this placetrapped beneath this colossal, bleeding heartfilled Bennos chest with new dimensions of grief. And yet even worse, he knew they were not. He was alone. He would always be alone. Another sob boiled up from him, and he covered his face with his hands. [Part I - Already Lost] Chapter 2 - Penis and Vagina-looking Wallpaper Someone was knocking on the door. Benno looked up. The giant heart beat out the seconds. You awake in there? A childs voice. A girls voice. Benno stood on shaky legs. Hellooo? Impatient knocking. Wake up you lazy fuck. Benno approached the door, careful to step gingerly, not to give himself away. But his feet scrrrched on the coarse carpet. I hear you in there, idiot. Benno stared at the laminated fire-exit map. Just a moment of consideration and a hasty inventory presented a number of outcomes, none of which were any worseor strangerthan the ones hed lived with for seven years. There was something on the other side of this door that sounded like a child. Whatever it was, it would A) not be a threat to him, in which case there was no reason to avoid it, or B) it would attempt to harm him, in which case it would 1) fail or 2) succeed somehowand wasnt that, ultimately, what Benno wanted? The weirdness of the motel room and the floating heart aside, he had no reason to think that anything had changed: He could not die, he could not be hurt, and if he could He wiped his damp eyes and opened the door. A little girl stood at the threshold. She couldnt have been older than eight. She wore a blue dress with gold stars imprinted across it, her black bangs cut in a straight line just over her eyeseyes that seemed older than the rest of herand tied in the back with a ponytail. She wore sneakers and white socks. A normal little girl in every wayexcept for the dozens of tattoos across her body. Skulls and crossbones, daggers, birds of prey, 1950s pinup girls with devil horns, bullets, a bottle with three Xs on it, an eyeball on her throat, illegible cursive along her jawline, an upside-down cross under her left eye. Her legs, her arms, her hands. From head to toe, the girl was inked up. She cocked an eyebrow at Benno and twisted her mouth into a sneer. You stink, dude. An intermingling of relief and additional confusion worked through Bennos mind. He didnt know whoor whathed expected to find, but it hadnt been this. He pointed back at the window, his hand trembling. What is that thing? Huh? The girl looked past him. Its just the Coil. Dont worry about it. The Coil? The girl wrinkled her nose. Did you puke? Jesus, man. Its all over your beard. I honestly dont even know what Eddas doing anymore. This last batch of recruits have been a total bunch of fucking pussies. She looked Benno up and down. I mean fuck. You look like someone dragged you out from under a porch. Benno wiped at his mouth with a forearm. So are you, like, totally indestructible? Something clicked into place. Is that why Im here? The girl shrugged. Benno touched his temple absentmindedly. Bullets dont hurt me. Nothing does. Well if you think bullets hit hard, wait until you meet Isaac. Who? Anyway. My names Rose. Thats my mothers name, Benno mumbled, as if to himself. Wow, fucking incredible. Roses voice lilted with boredom. Im on newbie duty today so its my job to take you to the Haruspex. The what? Is that what youre wearing? Benno looked down at himself. He wore only the boxers and dirty white t-shirt hed gone to sleep in the night before. It doesnt matter. Rose turned and walked off. Benno leaned through the doorway into a hallway with the same coarse, salmon-colored carpet as the room. There were doorseight that Benno counted, including his owneach marked with a different six-digit number. A row of dim orange lights inset in the ceiling hummed faintly. The walls were lined with beige wallpaper imprinted with floral designs that appeared, as Benno squinted at them, to strikingly resemble vaginas, and their stems conspicuously to resemble penises. Rose, halfway down the hall, glanced back. They look like cunts and cocks, right? Benno scoffed, flustered. Excuse me? Rose poked the wallpaper with a stubby finger covered in Roman numerals. I think its intentional. Edda designed the Inn, and shes really into Freudian shit like that. I mean dont get me wrong, shes a full-on fucking badass. But shes always mind-gaming the shit out of people. Subliminal stuff. Its just how she operates. Whos Edda? Benno focused on not looking at the wallpaper. Rose rolled her eyes. I have tickets to an Ulver concert in an hour. Im not gonna be late because of you. Now lets go. She walked off down the hall and disappeared around a corner. Benno lingered in the doorway. He could walk back into the room, close the curtains, lie down and try to fall back to sleep. He would wake up in his trailer. Certainly. He reached out and touched the wall, careful to avoid touching any of the vagina-flowers or penis-stems. The wall was solid. The wallpaper was delicately pitted. It felt as real as anything ever had. But it couldnt be. Whatever was happening couldnt be happening. It didnt make sense Then again, neither did surviving thousands of gunshots to the skull, poisoning, drowning, a train Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Roses head reappeared from around the corner. Hey stinky, she called. "Lets get a fucking move on. Benno rubbed his face, smelling the faint, always-present musk of gunpowder and the sweet, sour odor of dried whiskey on his hands. Here I am, he thought. Wherever this is, here I am. He glanced back into the room and through the window at the enormous heart in the sky. It bled and pulsed. He pulled the door closednumbered 266362and followed Rose. # The hallways buckled and forked. Every hallway was the same: Eight doors, each adorned with a uniqueseemingly randomsix-digit number, the same salmon-colored carpet, the same penis and vagina-looking wallpaper, the same dim orange lights. Hallway after hallwayBenno lost count after thirteenone after another, onward and onward. Benno jogged to keep up with Rose, who was always just about to turn the next corner when he rounded the previous one. Eventually she paused to let him catch up, her arms crossed and her face glowering. Are there people living in all these rooms? Benno asked. Theyre almost all empty. Rose continued around another corner. Edda built this place to accommodate an army or some shit, I dont know. There are only seven of us right now. Eight including you. Who are they? Benno asked. For fucks sake. Rose shook her head as she disappeared around another corner. The Shining was one of Bennos favorite movies. The last time hed watched it was with his son, just a couple months before the accident. His son had been a bit too young; the bathroom scene had left him clutching Bennos arm and asking a lot of questions. But it was the scenes in which Danny Torrance rode his tricycle through the Overlooks labyrinthine hallways that Benno thought of now: The camera trailing at a perfect, ominous distance, with just enough leeway to let Danny disappear around a corner for a breathless moment before swinging around after him, a terrifying choreography, signaling the constant threat that something waited for him, and yet there was always nothing until Ah, shit. Rose stopped in her tracks so abruptly that Benno nearly collided with her as he swung around a corner. She rummaged through a pocket in the front of her dress and produced a small, circular object, which she presented to Benno. Whats this? Its your Gemstoke. I almost forgot to give it to you because your nagging fucking questions are so distracting. Benno eyed the small, black glass disc. What does it do? Take it, man. Youre killing me. Benno picked up the Gemstoke. He was surprised by its weightlessness, and by how cold it felt on his skin. He peered at it, his eye reflected perfectly in its smooth surface. The were no seams, no markings, no textures of any kind. Press your thumb to the top, Rose said. Which side is the top? Both. Benno placed his thumb on the Gemstoke. A moment rolled by, and Benno was about to shrug, unsure what was supposed happen. Then a Voice filled his ears. SYNCHRONIZING TO SUBJECT A monotone, genderless Voice. The same Voice Benno had heard before he''d woken up in this motel. SUBJECT ANALYSIS CONFIRMATION INITIALIZING NAME: BENNO LAWRENCE HAIM. AGE: THIRTY-THREE YEARS, FOUR MONTHS, ONE WEEK, TWO DAYS, SEVEN HOURS, EIGHTEEN MINUTES Im forty, Benno mumbled. SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE. SUBJECT IDENTITY CONFIRMED. Benno blinked down at Rose. What do I do now? Rose gave Benno a scrutinizing look. Why are your hands shaking? Benno balled his hands into fists. Theyre not Roses perpetual scowl dissolved. Thats alright, man, she said, her voice softer than it had been, her old eyes refracting the hallways bronze light. I like to drink, too. Benno frowned How old are you? Rude. Roses scowl returned.You dont ask people their age. Dont you know that? Yeah, sorry. And its none of your fucking business. I dont show up asking you how much you weigh or why youre an alcoholic. Benno lowered his eyes. Rose sighed, and again her expression softened. But yeah, whatever. She pointed to Bennos hand. Just ask Gemma for a drink. Gemma? The Gemstoke. Gemma. Benno held up the coin-shaped thing. How? Press your thumb to it like you did. Ask for whatever you want. Benno placed his thumb to the Gemstoke. INPUT REQUEST the Voice said in his ear. Benno glanced at Rose. Um I need a glass of whiskey? RUNNING The same whirring sound from Bennos dreamor whatever it had beenonly soft, almost pleasant. Then there was a shape, shimmering like a mirage at Bennos eye-level, a gentle blurring of the hallway beyond. The blurring solidified, condensed, and formed itself into a glass tumbler half-filled with amber liquid. Grab it, dude, Rose said. Benno reached out and took the glass just as it started to fall. A few drops sloshed over the rim, speckling his hand. He brought it to his nose and smelled it. Whiskey. Not Jack Daniels, but similar. He hesitated, then drank. At onceas they always didhis hands stopped trembling. Better? Rose asked. The empty glass vanished from Bennos hand. Rose scrunched an eye shut and tilted her head. Im confused. If youre invincible, your body doesnt break down, nothing can hurt you, blah blah blahwhy do you get the shakes? It was a good question. I dont know, Benno said. Maybe its psychosomatic. Thats fucking sad. Rose stuck out her tongue as if she could taste just how pathetic it all was. Well, whatever you need, just ask Gemma for it. She turned and continued down the hall, walking a bit slower now so Benno could keep up. # Whats in here? Benno asked, slowing as they passed a doornumbered 718843on which someone had scrawled in black marker: BAD ROOM Rose continued straight ahead. Were almost there, she said, leading him down another hallway, then one more. They stopped outside a door at the dead end of the hall. Unlike the others, this door was aluminum, and there was no six-digit number. Instead of a doorknob, there was a crash bar. The Haruspex is through there, Rose said. Dont touch it, and dont let it touch you. She turned and started away. Hold on, Benno said. I just go in? Just go through the door. Rose turned, her eyes mid-roll. You know doors, right? Yeah, Benno said, feeling stupid and irritated. And remember: Dont touch it. Right, Benno nodded. Then what? I dont know, man. Do whatever you want. Go back to your room. Get drunk. Benno outspread his hands. Ill never find my way back to that room, he said. This place is a maze. Ask Gemma, Rose said, turning away. When in doubt, ask Gemma. Rose, Benno called. Rose turned again, her shoulders slumped with dramatic exasperation. Im here because Im whatever I am. So why are you here? Rose eyed Benno for a moment, inscrutable, then grinned faintly, turned, and walked away. Benno stood alone in the empty hallway. He picked absentmindedly at a loose elastic thread on the waistband of his boxers. The Haruspex, he thought, turning around to face the aluminum door. The Haruspex is through there. How did he know that? How had he managed to find his way to this particular door in this particular hallway? And why? Hed walked from the room he woke up in, down hallway after hallway, and ended up here. He had a strange, fuzzy memory of something else someone but then it was gone. He considered asking the GemstokeGemmafor another whiskey Where did he get this thing? Who had given it to him? He didnt trust it. A simple little metal disc that materialized whiskeythat materialized anything a user requestedout of thin air. From what resources? With what engine? Benno used to teach the law of conservation of mass. Even his 8th graders would have been skeptical of a closed system that could output items without any input And for that matter how did he know what it did? Hed seen it make whiskey, but he hadnt seen it make anything else. Who had told him? He rubbed his face. He was tired. He was in shock. For the first time in the better part of a decade he longed for his cramped, messy trailer. Things were simple there. Not easy, but simple. His trailer was for wallowing in despair. Thats what Benno Haim did. He wallowed. He faced the aluminum door. He was supposed to go through. No one had told him. He just knew. Somehow he just knew. Im dreaming and this is what happens next, he thought, then took a breath, hit the crash bar, and stepped into darkness. [Part I - Already Lost] Chapter 3 - The Slap He lurched and gagged into his hands as the door drifted shut behind him with a clang, pitching him into dark. A pungent commingling of body odor, halitosis, shit and piss so stringent and overpowering that his skin broke out in gooseflesh. His gagging progressed into coughing, his coughing into wheezing, and his wheezing into a spate of sneezes as his body attempted to expel the horrendous fetor from his throat and nostrils. The putrid air was moist and warm. The hard floor under his bare feet was vaguely damp. His eyes would not adjustthere needed to be some light for that to happenso he stood perfectly still and listened. Breathing. Raspy. Wet. Mere feet from him. He fingered the Gemstokehis only possession other than his boxers and t-shirtinadvertently pressing his thumb to it. INPUT REQUEST the monotone Voice said in his ear. He startled. The Voice, he decided, was unpleasant. Not necessarily in and of itselfit was objectively innocuous, sterile and mundanebut given that it spoke directly into his earif not his mindwas unsettling. Invasive. I need light, he said. A white lightas bright as the afternoon sunburst from the Gemstoke. Benno shut his eyes and outstretched his arm as the light flared for a moment before settling and casting the room in a clean, comfortable glow. The room was roughly the size of the room in which hed woken up. But unlike that room, this one was windowless, with sooty walls, a rutted ceiling, and no furniture. The floor was bare concrete and stained with dark splotches. Sitting on the floor, nude save for an oily rag bunched over her lap, her cracked lips caked in a layer of spittle, her hair dreaded in flat clumps, her foggy, blind eyes refracting the Gemstokes light, was an old woman. And Benno knew her. He took a small step. How he said, his disbelief swallowing the rest of the question. The old woman stirred. With her movement came the sound of metal dragging on concrete, and Benno noticed the claspa leather collarfastened around her throat, attached to a chain only a few feet long and bolted to the wall behind her. Bennos voice was thin. Youre Mickeys mother The old womans glassy eyes stared directly into the light. Come closer, she rasped, reaching out a bony hand. Benno took another step. What have they done to you? He eyed the thick chain, the oily rag, the dark stains on the concrete floor beneath her. Closer The woman strained forward, the tips of her knobby fingers searching. Im going to help you, Benno said. He set the Gemstoke on the floor and reached down to the woman, intending to lift her in his arms Dont touch it, he remembered suddenly. And dont let it touch you. Who had told him that? Who had warned him? His head swam. He looked at Mickeys mother, her pale, leathery skin, her cracked lips, her miserable state. What was Benno supposed to do? Leave her chained to a wall in a dark, odious room with nothing but a rag? Dont touch it He was imagining the instruction. No one had told him anything. He hadnt seen a soul since hed woken up in this place. Closer, the woman rasped, the chain clacking as she leaned forward. He was going to rescue her. He had to. Closer Dont touch it. Benno stopped. Dont let it touch you. Someone had told him. He didnt know whohe didnt understand howbut someone had. And for some reason it was an injunction he felt he should heed. He took a step back. What happens if I touch you? he asked. A faint smile crept at the edges of the womans cracked lips. I suppose youll never know, she said, sitting back and folding her bulbous hands over the rag in her lap. Benno snatched up the Gemstoke and retreated further, directing its light toward the woman. Her gawping, sunken eyes seemed to swallow it up hungrily. Mickeys mother Benno understood exactly what was going on here. Its like the Wizard of Oz, he thought. Im dreaming or hallucinating, and the people from my life are appearing to me as creatures in some fantasy world You are not dreaming, the old woman said. Nor hallucinating. This is as real as anything. And if you recognize me, it is because we are all iterations of other selves. Often our iterations entangle with one anothers through space and time. I dont know why. Benno swallowed a lump in his throat. Can you read my mind? he asked. Read? the old woman blinked slowly. No. Benno picked at the frayed thread on his boxers. A slew of little thoughts scurried through his mind. Where am I? he asked, and then: What is this place? The old womans face folded into something approximating a grin. What am I doing here? Benno tried. Edda has plans for you, the woman said. You will do what she needs. This is all she wants to hear from me. What does she need? But your other question The womans smile dissolved. Your larger question What question? The old woman adjusted the rag on her lap. What question? Bennos voice left his body with more force than he intended. You killed your family. The words struck Benno in the gut. You killed your wife and son. I didnt. You were driving. You were drunk. I wasnt I had a couple drinks with dinner You were arguing with your wife. Over nothing. We got hit by another driver. He was speeding. He ran a red light. Hes in prison now." Your son was distracting you in the backseat It wasnt my fault. Perhaps if youd been paying closer attention, you could have avoided the other driver. Perhaps if youd abstained from those couple drinks Or the couple you had before you went to the restaurant There wasnt anything I could do. That moment The old womans leathery finger traced a shapea trianglein the air. That moment of impact What came to you? When the other car struck yours? When your wife and son were ripped apart by metal and heat? Bennos breath trembled through his teeth, and thick tears gathered at his eyes. It wasnt my fault What came to you then? Benno shook his head, bewildered, his jaw clenching so tightly his teeth creaked. What did it take from you? Beads of broken glass. The seething rattle of dying breath. Dark hair matted and slick, coming away in his hands, exposing a smell That smell The old womans breath rattled. Death is never painless. I want to go home. There is no such thing. Benno dropped his face into his hands, and for some time the only sounds in the dark, damp room were his sobs. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! The old woman spoke again, her voice softened. You are lucky. Benno looked up through his tears. Lucky? Lucky? How the fuck could she say that? After everything that had happened to him? After all he had lost? Seven years trapped in this forsaken life with no escape? All alone? How could anything that had ever happened to him be lucky? Was she mocking him? Was she cruel? Benno wiped the tears and snot from his face. The old woman looked at himor into himfrom her blind eyes. There were more questions, but none of them mattered. Benno turned away from the Haruspex and exited the dark, dank room into the orange light of the hallway. The aluminum door clanged shut behind him as he shuffled off. The coarse, salmon-colored carpet and the penis and vagina-looking wallpaper blurred beige in his periphery. He decided against using the Gemstoke for directions, reasoning that it didnt matter if he knew or not where he was going, that either way he was already lost. # He walked for hours, perhaps, one identical hallway unfurling after the next. The Haruspexs raspy voice echoed in his head: You are lucky You are lucky He asked the Gemstoke for whiskey after whiskey, dumping each down his throat and tossing each empty glass over his shoulder. There was never a thunk, never the sound of glass shattering. He didnt bother to look back and confirm that the glasses were vanishing before they hit the floor. Magic or some kind of technologyit didnt matter. Reality was a series of meaningless, dissociated phenomena. FlashcontactBANG. The world was mostly distance. A leaky, vacant place. Eventuallyfor no reason other than to break the monotonyhe slowed to a stop in a hallway indistinguishable from every other save for the six-digit numbers on the doors. He tossed another empty glass over his shoulder, which retired into silence, and looked down at his bare legs and bare feet. I need clothes, he said, his thumb pressed against the Gemstoke. PROCESSING Shapes swam into fruition in the air at Bennos eye-level, condensed, and fell softly onto the carpeted floor. A pair of sneakers landed atop the pile one after the other. A flannel shirt, a pair of jeans, white socks and casual, logo-less sneakers. He removed his ratty, stained t-shirt and tossed it asidebriefly startled when it landed in a heap on the carpet instead of vanishing like the empty glassesand put on the flannel shirt, followed by the jeans. Both fit perfectlybetter than any clothes hed ever worn. The socks and shoes went on next, and the shoes fit as if theyd been molded expressly to his feet, which, he figured as he flexed his toes against the canvas and adjusted the collar of the flannel, they essentially had. He knelt and tied his shoes, and when he stood up there were two men in the hall. One was elderly, dressed in a tweed blazer with elbow patches, his gray, thinning hair combed awkwardly to the side of his liver-spotted scalp. He sat in an old-timey wheelchairwood and brasswith his long, arthritic fingers criss-crossed in his lap. He peered at Benno from wrinkly eyes over thin, wire-framed glasses. The other was perhaps Bennos age, about his size and build, wearing a tracksuit that reminded Benno of the ones the characters in The Sopranos walked around in, all wind-breaker with vertical stripes up the legs and arms. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his moussed, slicked-back hair and gold necklace glinting in the hallways dim orange lights. For a moment, they merely looked at Benno in silence. Good morning, the man in the wheelchair said finally with a mid-Atlantic accent Benno had only ever heard actors in old black and white sitcoms use. Benno nodded. Sorry to approach so discourteously. The man cleared his throat of what sounded to be a tenacious lump of phlegm. We were just eager to meet you, and wanted to make our introductions before the day got away from us. He lifted one crooked hand. My name is Hermann. Doctor Hermann Flamme. He indicated the man beside him. This is Isaac. Benno looked from Hermann to Isaac. I think He scratched his head. Somebody mentioned your name to me. Isaac But I cant remember who. Isaac and Hermann nodded slowly in unison, a knowing, amused quality to the choreography. And you are Ben, Hermann said. Benno. Benno Haim. Very good. Hermann gestured to the hallway. Welcome to the Hillstul Inn. The Hillstul Inn Benno frowned at the wallpaper and the carpet. Where are we? he asked. Like, where are we in the world, exactly? Hermanns papery brow furrowed. That isnt entirely the correct terminology, he said. Though, semantics aside, I suppose your question is sound. The Inn is our headquarters. It is the only structure within this Realm. Benno fingered the Gemstoke in his pocket. Realm? Correct. Edda decided this Realm was fitting to her particular needs. Likely due to its total dearth of activitywhich some of us find rather drab. Why, were lucky Edda brought along that ghastly Coil, or there would be nothing here to look at at all. The heart Benno said. What is it? Hermann waved a bent hand as if to dismiss an unpleasant odor. Nothing that concerns us, Im happy to say. Its Eddas burden and hers alone. And who is Edda? Benno asked, feeling as if he was finally starting to get somewhere. I keep hearing about her. From the old womanthe Haruspex. And from From someone else, I think Edda should return shortly, Hermann said. I know shell be happy to explain herself and address most of your questions. He sat up a bit, his chair squeaking. In the meantime, theres something that Isaac and I wish to determine. With your consent, of course. Whiskey, Benno said, unable to wait any longer. He took the glass from the air, swallowed it all in a single gulp, tossed the empty glass away, and returned his attention to Hermann and Isaac. Hermann cleared his throat. Weve heard about your condition, he said. The reason Edda brought you here. Were intrigued. And wed like a demonstration. Benno sighed. Fine. Can the Gemstoke make a gun? Oh, no no no. Hermann wrinkled up his already wrinkly face. I mean, yes, Gemma can manufacture almost any material object. But firearms are far too wanting. We wish to see a proper demonstration. So what do you want to do? Isaac here will simply give you a little slap. Isaac stood with his hands in his tracksuit pockets, smiling sheepishly at Benno. A slap? Benno asked. With your consent, Hermann said. Isaacs tracksuit was baggy on his relatively slight frame. A slap? What was a slap going to do to illustrate Bennos condition? Was it a joke? Were they fucking with him? Benno had never been to prison, but hed heard stories about the subtle and not-so-subtle ways that veteran inmates tested new inmates fortitude. Would his response to Hermanns request determinefor themhis eligibility for initiation into whatever organization hed been unwillingly abducted? The two men looked at Benno, eagerly awaiting his response. Sure, he said. Splendid! Hermann clapped his bony hands together, producing merely an anemic pfft. Whenever youre ready. Benno presented his cheek to Isaac. Go for it. Isaac rolled up a tracksuit sleeve, revealing a scrawny forearm, and squared up to Benno. S-s-sss-sorry in advvvvance, he said. Now not too hard. Hermann pinched a lever Benno hadnt yet noticed on the armrest of his chair, which wheeled the chair a few feet backwards with a rusty sigh. We dont want to bring the Inn down. Benno couldnt help but scoff. Hed been shooting himself in the head, twice a dayevery dayfor seven years. Not so much as a bruise had formed on his body in that time. Not so much as a scrape. Hed leapt from skyscrapers. Hed laid down in front of trains. Isaac, his hand dangling at his side, wiggled his fingers. You rrrready? he asked. Mm-hm. Benno shrugged his eyebrows. Isaac swung casually, as one might when jokingly slapping a buddy who was running his mouth after a few too many beers. But Benno felt heat on his cheek in the moment before Isaacs palm landed, and there was an acute CRACK, followed by a BOOM of thunder. Bennos heart jumped. There was no painthat wouldve been too much to askbut there was impact. Real, jarring impact. Whereas bullets felt like gentle pokes, and pavement from a thousand feet felt like landing softly on a mattress, and even a speeding trainforgive himfelt like a shove from a toddler, Isaacs slap shook Benno. His head movedminutely but nonethelessas the force of the impact traveled through his cheek and into his jaw with a tingling sensation hed forgotten existed. In that instant he remembered the way things used to be, before the accident, before his endless, deathless Hell, back when he was no different than anyone else. Back when he could get hurt and he could die. He remembered what it felt like to be alive. It was impossible to say whether it was the shock of the slap or the nostalgia that brought a single tear to Bennos eye. Isaac lowered his hand. Benno looked around. The walls with their genital-looking wallpaper had cracked in a series of thin, spider-webby lines, and flakes of plaster snowed down from the ceiling. Hermann gawped, sitting forward in his chair. A few seconds rolled by, each man astonished in his own way. Then Isaac held up his hand. It was red, and getting redder. Ouch he said, his eyes filling with tears. Ouch-chie He tucked his hand between his thighs and hopped in place. Oh my Hermann pulled a Gemstokeidentical to Bennosfrom the breast pocket of his blazer. Gemma. An icepack, please. A blue icepack manifested at Hermanns eye level. He took it in both stiff hands and presented it to Isaac. Before the swelling gets too bad. Isaac took the icepack and tucked it against the hand between his legs. His eyes watered. Benno stepped forward. That was It was remarkable! Hermann interrupted. Isaac forced a smile through his pained dance. You barely moved, Hermann went on. And you feel no pain? Benno shook his head. Absolutely remarkable. Gemma. Can you report the energy of that impact? ENERGY EMITTED FROM PREVIOUS RECORDED IMPACT MEASURED AT TWO MILLION NINE HUNDRED THIRTY-TWO THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-NINE JOULESOR TWO MILLION ONE HUNDRED SIXTY-TWO THOUSAND SIX HUNDRED SEVENTY-ONE DECIMAL SIX-TWO-ONE FOOT POUNDS OF ENERGY. Excellent Hermann grinned at Benno. Nearly twice the energy of two cars colliding head on at eighty miles per houreach. And your skin is not even irritated Isaac offered a weak thumbs up with his good hand. Rrr-rrrreal imp-p-pressive. How did you come to this? Hermann asked. Were you always this way? Benno touched his cheek. No he said, his eyes following the pattern of cracks in the walls. I used to be normal. I broke my arm when I was eleven. I got pneumonia when I was eight. And there were the little things. Stubbed toes. Pulled muscles. Colds now and then my whole life. Until the accident Not a scratch. Not a bruise. No pain. They said I was They called me lucky And since then, since that moment, for some reason His cheek was warm to the touch. Still warm. Do it again, he said to Isaac. Harder. As hard as you can. Now, now Hermann chuckled nervously. That was more than a sufficient demonstration. And so youre aware, Isaacs highest measured energy output is in the range of a trillion joulescomparable to a thermonuclear explosion. Though of course he requires certain controlled conditions for such an undertaking. Benno stepped forward, his cheek angled toward Isaac. Do it again, he said. Please. Isaac looked at Hermann. Hermann cleared his throat. I think thats enough for now, my friend. We wouldnt want poor Isaac to injure himself any further Please Bennos voice trembled. Please, just one more time. A little harder. I know itll work. I could feel it. It was close, it was It was so close. Please. Tears leaked down his cheeks. Im begging you. I cant do this anymore. I just want want to be with them. Please. I just want to be with them again Isaac and Hermann watched Benno cry. Oh dear Hermann said. Benno blinked into the orange lights in the ceiling. A pathetic display, but not without cause. If Isaac or Hermann could feel just a fraction of his loss they would want to help him. Anyone would. He just had to adequately express it Although everyone knew loss. Bennos was perhaps more conspicuous than most, but was it greater? Could loss be quantified? Isaac and Hermann must have known loss. Mickey and Mickeys motherand the Haruspexknew loss. Kathy and Asher Rogerseven Jasonknew loss. It was a universal human property. A banal revelation, it nonetheless gave Benno pause. Was it comforting? No. In fact, it made him even sadder. His losshis griefwas all he had. It defined him. If it was only as veritable as everyone elses, then it was negateda common denominator. And without it, Benno was nothing at all. His desperation dissolved, replaced with a hollow longing. He lowered his face. Im sorry, he said. Its alrrr-rrrokay, said Isaac. There, there, said Hermann. Whats going on here? inquired a stern voice in an accent Benno had never heard. Hermann and Isaac straightened to attention, looking over Bennos shoulder with matching expressions of schoolboy obedience. Benno turned, his grief extinguished by a wind of terror as he beheld, standing at the end of the hallway, a monster made of guttering smoke and cascading blue fire. [Part I - Already Lost] Chapter 4 - Thirty-third Daughter of the Scattered King Not a monster. A woman. The tallest womanthe tallest personBenno had ever seen in his life. What he first mistook for smokehe realized as it warped and refractedwas a suit of what appeared to be the same reflective black glass as the Gemstoke, and what hed mistook for blue fire was in fact the womans knee-length blue hair, which draped behind her like a cape. She stood with an imperious hip cocked to one side and a wrist bent against the intimidating crescent of the hip. Her age was impossible to determinesomewhere between thirty and sixtyand her orange eyes smoldered in the hallways orange light. She was easily nine feet tall. The top of her head nearly skirted the ceiling as she walked down the hallwayher body awash in a blur of floral wallpaperher hips swaying with formidable practice. Benno found himself eye-level with the wide mirror of her carapacehis face crisply reflectedand his nostrils filled with an aroma of firewood and lilacs so enchanting that saliva pooled in the ditches of his mouth. He craned his neck back and briefly met her fiery orange eyes before she blinked slowly and looked away. She surveyed the cracks in the walls and ceiling, then fixed Hermann and Isaac with a displeased look. What kind of mischief are you dragging our new friend into? she asked, her voice smoky, lilting and august all at once. Her accent was subtle, and unplaceable. No mischief, Edda, Hermann chuckled. We were simply running a demonstration. A demonstration? Edda lifted one meticulously manicured blue eyebrow. Yes, said Hermann. We wanted to see if it was true. If what you said about the new recruitBenno, herewas in fact the case. You doubted me? Edda asked, both annoyance and amusement in her voice. No, no. Of course not. Hermann cleared his throat. We just wanted to witness it for ourselves. To confirm it for ourselves And? There is no question. Hermann indicated the flindering walls. He is demonstrably impervious to physical harm. At least inside any practical range. I would posit his kinetic resistance is at least an order of magnitude greater than any protective gear in our collection. Of course we would have to run additional tests in a more conducive environmentat your convenience. I think my hand is bruhbroken, Isaac offered. Good. Edda looked down again at Benno, her full lips, painted dark green, curving into a subtle grin. Im glad weve confirmed what I already knew. We meant no disrespect, Hermann said, softly. Edda turned to Isaac. Have Gemma fix your hand. Youll need it for our errand this afternoon. She turned to Hermann. And since you saw it necessary to fact check me, Ill task you with fixing my walls. Make sure its done before we leave. Yes, Edda. Hermann bowed his head. Benno and I are going to have a chat. I know he has questions, and the least I can do is attempt to answer them. Does that sound alright, Benno? Yes, Benno said, meaning to project aplombit was about damn timebut instead sounding like a boy to his own ears. Edda smiled. Follow me. # She led him to a door marked 000003. Please, she said, opening it and standing aside. The room was enormousnot a room at all but an entire, sprawling apartment: Polished black marble floors and vascular white marble walls; lavish, richly colored furniture accented by neon blue and neon green and neon red throw pillows and intricately patterned blankets folded over seat backs; a long, sleek, black table lined with bright red upholstered chairs, and an oil painting hanging on the wall behind it depicting an impressionistic scene of a flower garden, every color so poignant that it hurt Bennos eyes to look at it for long; sculptures on pedestals in the rooms corners, busts of men and women with smooth features, their faces bent in expressions of uncontainable ecstasy; intricate hand-carvings of animalsboth familiar and alienposed in shameless displays of bluster; a floor-to-ceiling shelf filled with books built directly into the wall beside a short hallway; and doors leading to other rooms. The only thing about the space that confirmed it was even part of the same motelthe Hillstul Innwas the long window on the apartments far side, through which, beating and pulsing in the white sky, was the terrible bleeding Coil. Benno stood just inside as Edda passed around him and the door drifted silently shut. The smell of firewood and lilacs was intense in here, so much so that as soon as Benno registered it he found it difficult to concentrate on anything else. Edda sat on a black sofa, crossing one staggeringly long leg over the other and draping her body-length blue hair over her knee. Her glassy armor reflected every angle and curve of the lush, extravagant room, blending her fluidly into the space. Sit. She gestured to a high-backed leather-upholstered chair across from the sofa. Benno sat. From behind Eddas sofa, a shadow stirred, and a large gray cat plodded out. The glass triangle on its collar clinked. It looked at Benno for a moment with orange eyes as it strode silently across the marble floor, then disappeared down the hallway. That cat, Benno said. Ive seen that cat. Thats Recipient, Edda said. And yes. You would have seen him. Benno waited for Edda to go on. When she didnt, he found himself fidgety in the silence. Your mother was a linguist, she said finally. Isnt that right? How the fuck do you know that? Benno almost asked, then decided that was a silly question. Yes. What was her field? Archaeolinguistics. Are you close to her? Benno tapped his knee with a closed fist. She left when I was a teenager. Went off to Egypt and never came back. My dad told me and my brother she met someone else But for some reason I suspect you know all that. Tell me about your father. Edda uncrossed and recrossed her legs. He was also an academic, no? A philosopher? A semiotician, Benno corrected. Thats right. Edda nodded slowly, peering at Benno in such a way that Benno got the impression he was being tested. As a matter of fact, I read one of his papers. Not by chance, of course, but during the process ofdiscovering you. Semiotic Surrogacy I believe it was called. Benno had never read the paperany of thembut was familiar with the theory for which his father had become moderately famous inside certain academic circles: that concepts could detach from their corresponding objects and symbols and reattach to others. Adopting a dog soon after the death of a child attached the concept of the child to the object of the dog. The name of an ex-lover attached the concept of the lover to the symbol of the name. Freud for linguists, Bennos brother had once called it. Benno called it heady and self-evident. I found it quite compelling, Edda said. Was he a good father to you? What is this? Benno asked. Therapy? Edda smiled softly. Forgive me. Lets talk about you. You are a scientist. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Im not a scientist. Im just a science teacher. And Im not even that anymore. I see. Edda nodded in the same deliberate way. Whiskey? She raised her hand into the empty space in front of her and took a glass of whiskey from the air. She leaned forward, her hair spilling like water off her thigh, and handed it to Benno. Benno tried desperately to conceal the trembling in his hand as he took the glass. He sipped, then stopped. Wait. He wiped at his beard where a bit of whiskey had dribble. You didnt ask Gemma for it. And I dont see a Gemstoke in your hand I built the Gemstoke, Edda said, reclining. My version is a bit more integrated than yours. She extended a long arm across the sofas headrest. Benno nodded as if he understood. I am excited for you to discover all the wonderful things the Gemstoke can provide, she said. Besides whiskey. Benno felt his face warm. I do not mean to embarrass you. I cannot imagine how difficult it has been. There is no judgment from me around a persons pursuit of solace. Benno sipped his whiskey. But you do not need my permission, Edda went on. For now, I wanted to give you the opportunity to ask me any questions you might have. I know your arrival here was abrupt. That is, unfortunately, how it has to be. So please, while you have my attention. What can I tell you? Benno held the glass to his lips. His brain seemed unable to process even a single thought; since his arrival in this place, so many questions had arisen, and so few answers had been given, that now, faced with the possibility of some clarity, he didnt know where to start. I dont know he managed. I guess Who are you? My name is Edda Contrejas Loticus Bellacord. And, um What are you? Edda raised a blue eyebrow. I mean Benno adjusted his weight on the chair. What do you do? Like for work? Ah. Edda sat forward, her blue hair falling silently and coiling on the soft, fractal-patterned carpet. I am an explorer. Benno nodded. I go forth, my crew and I, and chart uncharted Realms. We make unheralded discoveries and forge new passages into the unknown. Sounds fun, Benno said, betraying a sarcasm he neither intended nor felt. Eddas orange eyes narrowed, and the otherwise unblemished skin creased around her mouth. Then her dark green lips spread into a wide smile, revealing dazzling white teeth, and she laughed. Her laughter, Benno was unsurprised to discover, was so enchanting that he felt light-headed. It is, she said, reclining again. Youre going to love it. Benno tapped his empty whiskey glass. Well I guess that brings me to my next question. Why am I here? And where, exactly, is here? To answer your second question first: said Edda. This is Realm M2D923.01. A remarkably unremarkable place. You are currently inside the Realms only structure, a complex I built to house my operations. We call it the Hillstul Inn, named after a place in a book. I chose this Realm because it affords a certain privacy. Nothing lives here except the grass. Edda reached out and pulled another full glass of whiskey from the air, which she handed to Benno without breaking a phrase. And your first question is simple, she continued. You are here because you posses an incredible Condition? Benno offered. Yes. It is quite unique. And quite useful. Useful to who? To everyone, most of all you. Edda gave Benno an inscrutable look for a moment before she went on. You see, for the most part, Realms are accessible through an array of techniques and technologies. My current crew and I can move freely and takeor, rather, can go where we like. The Gemstoke and its adjacent systems permit us travel between Realms, and our collective talents grant maneuverability inside those Realms, by and large, with ease. But there is one exception Benno waited for Edda to continue. But she was silent, staring off across the room at the window, where, beyond, the Coil pulsed over the yellow hills. What exception? he asked finally. Edda looked at him as if shed forgotten he was there. Does it have anything to do with that? Benno pointed to the window. Let me show you something. Edda stood in a sudden, fluid motion and strode away. Benno followed her through a door and into a study. There was a large, circular table in the center, covered in scattered papers on which diagrams and equations were scrawled in careful print. Bookshelves lined the walls. A single chair stood at the table, askew, as if whoever had been sitting in it lastpresumably Eddahad leapt up to attend some urgent task. Recipient lounged on the windowsill, his enormous back leg dangling nearly to the floor. He gazed out at the Coil, which pumped and bled. Edda leaned back against the table and crossed her arms, her armor reflecting the rooms quiet decor, the bookshelves crisp along the slant of her shoulder. Ive spent more hours in here than I care to count, she said. My whole life, things have come to me one way or another. Not everything was easy, but I always got what I wanted. For the most part. She held up a sheet of paper from the table on which a triangle was drawn. In the middle of the triangle was a smaller, upside-down triangle. Benno peered at it, then shrugged. I dont know what Im supposed to be looking at. The Realms are discrete spatio-temporal fields, Edda said, as if that was supposed to clarify. You might have heard them referred to as dimensions. Countless realities laid out side-by-side, as inaccessible to one another as death from lifewithout the right tools. You were born in one, I was born in another. Together they all look something like a quilt. Edda held up another sheet of paper, this one covered in dozens of triangles, all touching at their points, each one with another upside-down triangle in its middle. In their collective entirety, the Realms form the Ensemble. I use the Gemstoke to travel across it, from Realm to Realm, as I please. I have been to hundredsthousands. I can go anywhere I want, as simple as walking from one room to another. There is nowhere and nothing off limits to me. As I said, one way or another I get what I want She set down both pieces of paper. But there is one Realm I cannot reach. Fittingly, and ironically, it is the only Realm I truly desire to visit Benno held his whiskey at his lips, waiting. The Gardens. Benno sipped his whiskey. A Realm that has only ever been visited once that we know of. There are many unique things about it. One is that the Gardens single inhabitant, a creature about which very little is known, is a wish granter. Like a genie? If that helps you understand it. Whoever sets foot in the Gardens can ask for somethinganythingand they will have it. Two faces flashed in Bennos mind. But another thing about the Gardens, Edda continued, is that, unlike any other Realm we have mapped, no living thing can pass through its external boundary, its rhizome. Not with any method we have derived or discovered. She indicated the outer triangle with a long, turquoise fingernail. Not without perishing. Benno eyed the triangle, then looked up at Edda. I see He dropped his empty glass, which vanished as it fell. So thats why Im here. You want to use me to get you inside. Eddas orange eyes flickered. And then what? Benno went on. Im supposed to make a wish for you? Eddas dark green lips curled briefly into an unreadable expression. We can both have what we want. But thats a conversation for tomorrow. And whats your wish? Edda did not answer. Well lets go then, Benno said. Im ready. It is not that simple. Yet another unique quality about the Gardens is that it is nomadic. Whereas other Realms are fixed at given loci within the Ensemble, the Gardens moves around. Finding it, therefore, is not trivial, and it cannot be mapped. But we have methods to search for it, and we are close. How close? Edda drummed her long fingers on the table. Benno shook his head. This is all so ridiculous. Im ninety-nine percent certain Im hallucinating. Or having an impossibly vivid dream. But even if Im not He trailed off and rubbed his face. And I can ask for anything? I mean, anything at all? And you will have it. Benno thought. Edda gave him time. You said the Gardens were entered once, he said. By who? Edda ran a hand through the side of her hairthe first unguarded gesture Benno had seen from her. It was a long time ago, she said. And? We have an errand to run. Edda straightened up. The crew are waiting. Question times over, huh? Benno took a slow breath. What if I dont want to? What if I dont want to run an errand or go to this Gardens or have anything to do with any of this? What if I just want to fuck off? Will you let me leave? Can I just go home? Home? Edda gave Benno an inquisitive look. You mean that filthy trailer where you drink and shoot yourself and cry in your bed? Bennos skin crawled at the implication that this woman had been watching him so closely. The room you have me staying in isnt much nicer. You can alter the room into whatever nature you choose. Edda gestured to her study. But to answer your question: You can return to your Realm and to your trailer if you like. I do not keep prisoners. What about the woman you keep chained in that room? The Haruspex? Eddas grin betrayed a reluctant admiration of Bennos mettle. The old lady and I have an arrangement. Recipient leapt down from the windowsill, trawled in a circle, and slunk from the room. So if I did just want to go home, Benno said. How do I do it? Just ask Gemma to take you where you want to go. But before you make any decisions, I ask only that you accompany us on todays errand. It has nothing to do with the Gardens or anything of that sort. It is a standard days work. And I want you to see what we do. I suspect you may take naturally to it. Edda pulled another whiskey from midair and handed it to Benno. He took it and sipped, chewing the whiskey around his mouth. This is insane, he thought, and then nearly laughed out loud. It was insane, but things had already been insane. For seven years things had been insane. Was this whole thingthis Inn, this tall woman with her orange eyes and enigmatic rhetoric, this promise of a magical place, a Gardens, where ones wishes were grantedwas this more insane than being unable to die? The whiskey ran along his gums. The Gardens Insane The whiskey trickled down his throat. But it was something. Was it real? Did that matter? He swallowed. Of course it mattered. And there was no way to know for sure, unless... He took another swig. It was something. And if it was... If it was real Edda watched him carefully. He forced his attention away from his suddenly galloping thoughts, and nodded at the window and the Coil beyond. So what is it? he asked. Edda watched Benno. A reminder, she said. Of what? On the collar of her suit, just below where it gave way to her skin, the beating heart reflected, crisp but small, bleeding. Of where I came from. [Part I - Already Lost] Chapter 5 - I Dont Want to Hurt Anybody Edda led him down the buckling beige hallways to a heavy door which, like the room to the Haruspex, had a crash bar and no numbers, but, unlike that door, led to a concrete stairwell. A strange memory came to Benno as he followed Edda up the stairs, her hair trailing its aroma of firewood and lilacs and swaying with the unsettling length of her body, revealing Bennos small face in the backs of her legs each time it moved aside: Shes really into Freudian shit. Shes always mind-gaming people. Subliminal stuff. Who had told him that? It was so distinct, and yet there was no accompanying voice. No face. Just words in a vacuum. A fabrication of his mind? Maybe, but there was no question Edda was calculated. Everything about herfrom the scent of her hair to the tight-fitting mirror suit of armor, the careful oscillation of her gait, the decoration of her apartment and the information she chose to disclose and omitwas carefully curated. Benno recalled an old student of his from fifteen years ago. Andy Schultz. A good student, soft spoken. He arrived at school everyday on time and meticulously organized, his homework complete, ready for the days assignments. Never got in any trouble. Was always well-dressed. Polite. Attentive. An unusualthough at the time welcomevariation on the standard half-engaged and half-awake public high school student. Which was why, when the police showed up and hauled him out of the classroom one day in Maynot Bennos science classroom, but an English class down the hallthe other students and faculty were confounded, assuming a grave mistake had been made. But there was no mistake. Andy Schultz had murdered his parents and sister back in October of the previous year. Slit their throats. He had been living with their decomposing bodies in the house, tucked into their beds. He had carried on without a single crack in his scrupulous facade. An A student. A sweet kid. Carefully curated. Calculated. At the second floor landing they passed through another heavy door into an enormous room. An airplane hangar, in essence, with a domed ceiling two hundred feet high and thousands of square feet of nondescript concrete floors. It was empty but for a large vehicle parked near its middle. The vehicles sleek black exterior reflected the cavernous roomthe same material as Eddas armor and the Gemstokes. At first, Benno thought he was looking at one of those super yachts that billionaires sailed around on, the ones with three stories and hot tubs and full-time staff that cost more money than the GDPs of some small nations. The difference was that this one, here in the hangar, had wings: two rows of them on either side, like a dragonfly, made of the same reflective black glass as the rest of the vesseland the Gemstokes, and Eddas suitand resting on the hangars concrete floor. Benno wondered for the hundredth time when he was going to wake up. Hermann and Isaac were waiting for them, sitting and standing respectively at attention a few yards from the vessels stationary wings. There were three other people with them. One was a young man with braids and a self-assured grin, dressed in designer jeans and Vans and a baggy tank top, his wrists laden with metal bracelets. Beside him was a middle-aged woman, on the heavier side, wearing sweatpants, flip-flops and a NASCAR sweater, with a short, unflattering haircut that brought to Bennos mind the kind of person youd encounter at the super market arguing with the cashier about expired coupons. The third personwho at first Benno mistook for some kind of mannequinappeared completely nude, though there were no sexual organs, nipples or navel on their perfectly smooth, hairless, dark beige body. Their face had no mouth, no nose, no ears and no other features except for two perfectly round, pared eyes. Most disturbingly, the eyes appeared afflicted with the most severe chemosis Benno had ever seen; the whites were swollen around the black pupils, constricting them to fine points. Edda took authoritative stridesher pliant armor a dark, yawning grayand stood before her crew. Hermann and Isaac youve already met, she said as Benno stepped up beside her. This is Dante. She indicated the young man with the braids. Helen. She indicated the woman with the NASCAR sweater. And Ddoak Michol. She indicated the beige, featureless creature with the tumefied eyes, who did not move or react in any discernible way. Benno offered a wave, which he felt came off as awkward and boyish, and he instantly regretted it. And this, Edda went on, gesturing to the super yacht. Is the Shenandoah. Benno nodded. Nice ship. Indeed. It is the envy of travelers across the Ensemble. A jewel among a heap of coal. The finest vessel ever built in Edda trailed off. Where is Rose? Who? Helen asked, her wide brow furrowing. Benno wondered the same thing. Dante snickered. I believe she attended a concert, said Hermann. Though I do recall she claimed she would return with ample time before todays errand. Edda sighed and shook her head. Little brat, she said half under her breath. Well shell have to meet us at our destination. Its time we embark. She extended an arm, palm-up, toward the Shenandoah, and as she did a doorway appeared in the otherwise seamless exterior of the hull, a perfect rectangle, as if melted from a block of ice. Beyond the doorway was darkness. The crew entered the Shenandoah one by one, until only Benno and Edda and Ddoak Micholwho had yet to move an inchremained. Are you ready? Edda gestured for Benno to get aboard. Im not committing to anything, Benno said. Just because I go with you on this errand, doesnt mean Im part of your crew, or that Im agreeing to anything else. Eddas crescent of white teeth appeared behind her green lips. You dont have to do anything that you dont want to do. # The Shenandoahs interior was similar to Eddas apartment: white marble walls and black marble floors and ceilings, sleek furniture and even a few sexy sculptures on shelves inset in the walls. A short hallway delivered Benno to a circular roomthe bridge, he figuredwith a black marble table surrounded by black chairs. On one side of the room was a console, a black screen as large as the wall. There were no windows. Dante and Helen sat at the table, and Hermann parked his wheelchair beside them. Isaac stood near Hermann with his hands in his pockets, his leg jouncing. Ddoak Micholwho had entered the Shenandoah without Benno seeingstood as still as a tree in a random spot not far from the screen, the bulging whites of their eyes grayed by the rooms black marble. Edda took her position at the console and placed her hand flat on the black glass. A burst of purple light emanated from it in waves, and up the length of her armor. SYSTEM INITIALIZING Gemmas Voice announced. SYSTEM INITIALIZED. GOOD AFTERNOON, MISTRESS. Good afternoon, Gemma, Edda responded. Benno remained near the mouth of the hallway, watching as the consoles screen filled with purple triangles of light, each with an upside-down triangle inside. Eddas slender finger traced from triangle to triangle until it found the one she was looking for. She tapped it with a silver nail, and the screen zoomed in on the inner triangle, revealing countless additional purple trianglestriangles upon trianglesand when Edda tapped one it zoomed in further, revealing more countless triangles within. Eddas finger found a final triangle and hovered. Everyone ready? she asked without turning around. Yes, Edda, said Hermann in his usual formal fashion. Aye-yaye, said Dante withoutit seemedany irony. Edda tapped. REALM CODE: G7X208 DECIMAL 55 Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. INITIALIZING LOCUS RECALIBRATION Gemmas whirring sound started up. It was as loud as Benno remembered from his dream, and his breath quickened, an automatic response to the anticipation of a stifling, unrelenting darkness You might want to hold onto something, Edda said, turning just enough from the console that her orange eyes flashed at Benno. Benno scrambled to the nearest wall and braced himself against it just as all the light in the bridge went out. Is this it? Benno wondered. Is this how Im finally going to wake up? It made some kind of sense: Back through the crushing darkness that had spirited him here in the first place. His teeth vibrated, and the wall onto which he held seemed, somehow, to harden under his hands. This was it. Chewed through the dark and spat from this wild dream back into his trailer. It was a relief. He could get back on with his life. He could get back on with his miserable fucking Hell of a life Then the whirring stopped, and light exploded from everywhere. # Benno lowered his hand from his eyes. No longer were the bridges walls windowless white marble, and no longer the floor and ceiling black. Now they were all transparent, thick panes of perfectly crisp glass. A blue sky filled the top quadrant of Bennos view, and dazzling sunlight. Below, sprawling for as far as he could see beneath his feet in all directions, was a magnificent city of emerald green spires. Welcome to Forror, Edda said, tending to the console, her armor a brilliant display of blue and green. The Shenandoah floated high over the city. Benno took a shaky step across the transparent floorunbalanced by the perception of walking on airand surveyed the expansive metropolis below. The buildings glistened in the sun, their shimmering facades winking and sparkling like leaves on a summer afternoon. In fact, as Benno peered closerand though it was impossible to say for sure from this extreme vantagehe could swear the buildings were made of leaves. Though that, of course, would make about as much sense as a disembodied heart floating in the sky. Or a man who could not die. A long dormant sensation stirred in Bennos mind. Curiosity. What was this place? What kind of people lived in such a glorious city? He had been to New York dozens of times in his life. Hed seen pictures of Tokyo and Shanghai and Sydney. Those cities were impressive. But this place, Forror, with its endless sprawling canopy-like skyscrapers, each one as tall or taller than the tallest building Benno had ever seen, from horizon to horizon, made those other citiesthe metropolises of Bennos Realmseem quaint by comparison. Thats it there, said Hermann, who had wheeled himself up alongside Edda and now pointed down toward a particularly tall building that rose above the others. The top floor. There are seventeen Forrorians inside. And the Koan? Edda asked. Its in there, Hermann said. On its pedestal in the altar den. Just like we discussed. Good. Edda brought up a new set of controls on the console, a rectangle with various shapes and symbols within it. Lets go take whats There was movement in the middle of the bridge. The air shimmeredthe same way it did when Gemma made a whiskeyand a person materialized there. A child. A little girl. She couldnt have been older than eight. She wore a blue dress with gold stars on it. Her black bangs were cut low above her oddly grizzled eyes. She wore sneakers and white socks and was perfectly normal looking in every wayexcept for the dozens of tattoos covering her body from head to toe. Sorry Im late, she said, smoothing her bangs. Edda abandoned the console. Where have you been? I told you I was going to a concert, the girl said, a bit snarky. I was back at the Inn before you said to be, but you left early That is unacceptable so I didnt do anything wrong. You gave me the green light, so I went. It was fucking nice, by the way. You need to be more punctual I made it back in time! Who the fuck is that? Helen exclaimed. She stood splayed by the table, pointing at the little girl, her eyes wide. Howd she get in here? The rest of the crew snickered and passed around a knowing look. Why are you all laughing? Helen demanded, her face reddening. Edda closed her eyes and shook her head. Rose. Would you please unblock yourself from Helen? Im tired of having to ask you. The girl sneered. But shes such a tool. Edda gave the girl a stern look. Young lady Dont young lady me. You told me to be more conflict averse. Thats all Im doing. Better strangers than enemies, right? I dont have time to argue with you, Edda said. The Forrorians are going to notice us in their airspace presently. Unblock yourself from Helenand, I suspect, from poor Bennoand lets get on with this errand. The girl huffed and crossed her arms. Fine, she said. You asked for it. And all at once, Benno remembered her. Shed come to his room, called him names, given him the Gemstoke. Shed brought him to see the Haruspex. She was the first person hed met here. Rose. The foul-mouthed, tattooed, little girl. His mothers name was Rose. Not the kind of person one simply forgot about. And yet Benno had simply forgotten her. Simply and completely You little bitch! Helen roared. She lunged at Rose, her fingers outspread, her nostrils flaring. You despicable little cunt! Dante and Isaac rushed forward, seizing Helen by the arms and collar of her NASCAR sweater and wrestling her back. Let me go! she shrieked. Ill kill her! Rose shrugged at Edda. Told you. Enough! Edda slammed her fist down on the console so hard that the screen flickered. Helen relented, huffing, her face a startling shade of red, her nostrils flared so wide that Benno could see the stubby hairs protruding from them. An uneasy calm fell across the bridge. Dante and Isaac cautiously released Helen, their hands lingering around her arms lest she resume her charge. Everyone get ahold of yourselves, Edda commanded. Helen, calm yourself. Rose, stop being divisive. Stop being divisive, Rose mocked under her breath, grinning at Benno and revealing a gold incisor he hadnt noticed before. We have work to do, Edda continued. If anyone has a problem with anyone else, settle it off the clock. For now, put this puerile nonsense aside and focus. Helen glared at Rose. Rose frowned at her nails. The crew looked from Rose to Helen. Is that clear? Edda said. Yes, Edda, the crew responded in broken unison. Good. Now. What we came here for is in that building. She pointed down past the console at the tallest building before them. It shouldnt be a complicated effort. Im going to fly us in. Dante is going to bring up a distraction. Hermann will take the helm while Isaac, Helen and I retrieve the artifact. Rose, Ddoak, I will expect you to be on standby. So glad I left the concert early. Rose rolled her eyes. Edda turned to Benno. You have an option, she said. Either stay here on the Shenandoah, or come with us and get a taste of what we do. Benno blinked around at the crew. Well? Edda stood with her hands outspread. Benno cleared his throat. Ill hang back, he said. Id hate to be in the way. Fine. Edda turned back to the console and tapped a series of shapes on the screen. The Shenandoah started silently forward, propelled by the blur of its dragonfly wings. Helen glared at Rose, channelling her rage into a death-grip on one of the seat backs. Rose leaned casually against a wall, picking some grime from under a fingernail. There are Forrorians making their way to the roof, Hermann said suddenly, his voice urgent. Twelve of them. Theyre armed. Stay alert, said Edda, her fingers hovering over the console. The skyscrapers roof was sectioned into four green spiresone at each cornersurrounding a flat brown section in the center. At the base of one spire was a doorway, which fed onto the flat section, and as the Shenandoah nearedless than a hundred yards from the roofpeople emerged from it. There were exactly twelve of them. They streamed from the doorway and took up positions at various points on the roofs flat section. They were too far away for Benno to discern their features, but they all appeared to wear the same brownish uniform, and all carried the same unmistakable long, black objects, which they trained, one by one, at the Shenandoah. Looks like they were expecting us, said Hermann, a noticeable tremor in his already shaky voice. Perhaps they invested in a new security system There was a flash of light from the roofthe muzzle of one of the Forrorians gunsand a fiery ball flashed and condensed into a white shape. In the moments that it rushed toward the Shenandoah, Benno decided it looked like a rabbit, complete with long ears and beady eyes. Incoming! Edda shouted. The rabbit exploded on impact. The Shenandoah shook. Benno nearly fell, managing, barely, to cling to the wall. A BOOM echoed around them, and tendrils of fire and smoke whipped along the Shenandoahs exterior. A second later, another impact, another BOOM, and more fire. A bit defensive, these, said Edda, both hands planted firmly on the console, her armor a ferocious concatenation of fire and smoke. Hermann clutched his wheelchairs handrails. They certainly arent happy to see us, he said as if this was some kind of revelation. A third rabbit collided with the Shenandoah, rocking it nearly on its side before it wobbled back upright. Change of plans. Edda turned to Benno. Looks like youre getting a taste anyway. Now be a dear and get down there to take some fire off us. Benno blinked at her, his fingers gripping the walls moulding. Well be right behind you, Edda said as another explosion shook the Shenandoah. We just need a little breathing room. Benno looked down at the roof below as another pair of fireballs condensed into another pair of rushing rabbits. You want me to Benno braced against the two additional impacts. You want me to go down there? Youve jumped from greater heights, said Edda. And once youre down, there isnt much else to do. Just stand there and let them hit you. Benno looked around. The crew all stared back at him. There had been a hundred and fourteen people on the train. Bent metal and black smoke, twenty cars coiled alongside the tracks I dont want to hurt anybody, he said. Another rabbit struck the Shenandoah, bucking it and engulfing it in a pall of flame and smoke that danced in the wind. The console lit up with an ominous red glow, and a sirenlow-pitched and droningsounded. Edda tsked and pinched the bridge of her nose, then raised her other hand, palm up, toward Benno. Something shifted beside him, and before he could tell what was happening a rectangular hole had opened in the Shenandoahs hull, directly where he was leaning. Cold air and the odor of smoke whipped inside as he lost his balance and tumbled, head over heels, down through the sky. [Part I - Already Lost] Chapter 6 - Naked and Afraid As he fell, Benno remembered a joke his father liked to tell him and his brother way back when they were just kids: Aristotle said that we are what we repeatedly do. Therefore, I am your mother. Why this stupid joke occurred to him thenas he plummeted back-first, looking up at the Shenandoah which, despite having been transparent inside, retained its solid black exterior and reflected Bennos splayed little body a hundred feet below in the belly of its hullwas a mystery to him. But occur it did, along with his fathers cigarette-scraped voice and disinterested cadence. He rarely thought of his father, despite handling the Smith & Wesson Model 19 revolver hed left himthe only thing hed left himevery day for seven years. The mind was a funny thing. We are what we repeatedly do. He landed hard on his back. There was commotion nearby, voices shouting words that Benno did not recognize. He sat up, feeling the strange texture of the roofs surface under his hands, and was shockedthough not necessarily surprisedto discover that it was made of what appeared to be a wide plane of tree bark. Looking around, Benno confirmed that the green spires sprawling throughout this magnificent city, were in fact, as he had suspected from the Shenandoah, composed of thick, rustling leaves, which twinkled like a billion daytime stars. For a moment, the sheer majesty of this place stirred again in Benno a sense of wonder. Again, a curiosityboyish and long exiledperked suddenly up, eager to explore, to learn about this world and its inhabitants. Benno wanted to see it all. But his awe was interrupted as he turned and found himself face to face with twelve muzzles. They trembled slightly in the hands of the Forrorians, who inched cautiously forward. Birder rast! one of them shouted, and a second later Gemmas monotonous Voice translated in Bennos ear. DONT WAIT. Esturn zit bist! shouted another. KILL HIM. Eccbuk dop! shouted a third. PIRATE SCUM. The Forrorians wore matching outfits of what appeared to be branches and twigs fastened together with fine black thread. Their statures were shorter than they appeared from above, perhaps averaging five and a half feet. Their faces were vaguely humantwo eyes, a nose, a mouthbut softer, flatter, and their hair, which grew from the tops of their heads and down the lengths of their necks before disappearing into the collars of their twig and branch clothing, was thick and soft like fur. Then the muzzles flashed. Benno inhaled and closed his eyes as the fireballs condensed and the rabbits whistled the short distance toward him. In that brief window before impact he admitted to himself that he was pissed. Edda had tricked him. Shed lied to him and tricked him. Shed told him he wouldnt have to do anything he didnt want to do, and yet here he was. Shed said one thing and then done another. It didnt bode well. The first rabbit struck his chest. It hit hardas hard as Isaacs slapand the explosion that followed hit even harder, engulfing Benno in atmospheres of heat and raging sound. ImpactheatBOOM. The next rabbit struck his shoulder, and the third his thigh. The heat and pressure bore down on him, wanting to crush him, to burn him awaybut it was not enough. It was not even close. ImpactheatBOOM. ImpactheatBOOM. Benno could parse the moment. He could watch it all happen. He was an observer, not a subject. He fingered the Gemstoke, thinking about a whiskey. Eventually the rabbits stopped coming, and the windwhipping fast at this altitudedispersed the smoke. Benno stood there, in the same spot hed been, looking at the Forrorians, who all stared back at him, their smooth faces in various expressions of shock. Benno felt the wind on his body and looked down; the explosions had torn or melted away most of his clothing, leaving him more-or-less naked save for a few charred scraps of fabric and the molten stubs of his sneakers. His beard too, he found, feeling his chin after his nostrils filled with the sharp odor of burnt hair, was singed. He clutched the Gemstoke against his thigh where his pocket used to be, and dropped his other hand over his crotch. He glanced up toward the Shenandoah, distinctly aware that Edda and her crew were probably watching But where the Shenandoah had beenwhere the sky had beenthere was now another city. Another Forror, Or nonot another Forrorthe same Forror, with its green leafy spires and sprawling, twinkling beauty, sprawling and twinkling overhead, mirrored, so that Benno could see himself standing on the roofthe same roof on which his feet were firmly plantedblinking upor downat himself. His balance teetered, and as he tried to take a step he nearly fell. Then, all at once, the Forror overhead fellor flewrapidly away with terrifying speed. The sensation was so disorienting that Benno dropped to his knees and clung to the bark. Around him, the Forrorians did the same, falling or splaying, their guns hanging limply or falling from their hands altogether. One of them stumbled and collapsed face down. Another screamed up at the sky. A third tried to run, wobbling, as if viciously drunk, and tottered head-first over the roofs edge. The other Forror rocketed awayor was it this Forror rocketing away from the other one?farther and farther, faster and faster, until the green curve of the city-planet appeared, and the blue sky darkened with empty space. And then, just when the entirety of the planet became visible, suspended among the vast expanse of a starless night, the trajectory reversed and the other Forror roared back toward them. Benno cowered and covered his head, bracing for the imminent impact as the city filled up the sky and the spires of the buildings stabbed down and he and the roof on which he stood sped with maddening speed directly at himbut the impact didnt come. At the last second, the trajectory reversed again, and the other Forror zoomed back out, and Bennos stomach cramped and his skin broke out in cold sweat. He was so disoriented that he didnt notice Edda, Isaac and Helen standing beside him on the roof until Edda spoke. Excellent work, she said, her voice different, muffled. Benno squinted up. For a moment, all he could discern was a dizzying fractal of green where Edda stood. But her shape was there, a form against the refracting cities. Her face was hidden behind a mask of the same material as the rest of her armor. The mask was featureless save for two attenuated orange holes where her eyes might be, and two horns sprouting from the top that reminded Benno of the horns on the old Japanese Oni masks his grandmother used to collect. Most notably, a phallus extended from her crotch, curved like the horns on her mask, reflective like the rest of her armor, erect at a right angle from her body and tapered into a fine point, ready, it seemed, to run through anyone in its way. Additionally, she carried a swordthe length of Bennos bodyalso made of black glass, and engraved along its blade with strange, orange text. Its edges glowered. Eddas flowing blue hair erupted from the back of the mask and danced in the wind. We need to hurry now, she said, her enormous free hand taking Benno by his upper arm. Dante cant do this for long. Benno stood shakily, doing his best to ignore the nauseating yoyo of the other Forror overhead and which, now, was also reflected in Eddas towering body. Helen led the way toward the door at the base of the leafy spire, weaving through the dumbstruck Forrorians, with Isaac in tow. Edda released Bennos arm and started after them, stopping only when she realized Benno wasnt following. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Come, she said. We might need you inside. Benno felt rooted to the spot. Im Im naked, was all he could manage to say. Edda laughed behind her mask. Were all naked, ultimately. Her tonemocking, flippantdislodged a layer of Bennos shock, and beneath it: anger. You pushed me out of the Shenandoah, he said. I didnt lay a finger on you. Eddas mask turned briefly to the sky. You know what I mean, he said, his voice rising. You didnt give me a choice. I didnt choose to be on this roof. Or plucked out of my life and plopped into your fucking Inn. I didnt choose to get all tangled up with whatever this is, with whatever it is you do. I wouldnt have chosen this. I dont want to be here. Do you understand? I dont want this! Edda stood so still that were it not for the wild tussle of her blue hair in the wind she would have all but vanished. I understand your irritation, she said finally. But this is not the time to discuss it. She looked up at the other Forror, which, Benno discovered as he followed her gaze, had grown partially transparent, had lessened, so that the general blue tint of the sky showed through. Dantes stamina leaves something to be desired. And while you may not be at risk of getting killed on this roof, Helen and Isaac are, and Hermann, Dante, Rose and Ddoak on the Shenandoah. So I appreciate that you take issue with my decisionsand maybe youre rightand I admire your self-advocacy, but it is not the fault of my crew, and I know you do not want them to suffer my misdeeds. Or your inaction. Her sharp pronunciationinactiontwisted Bennos anger into shame. So see us through this, she continued. Not for me, but for them. She gestured toward Isaac and Helen, who waited by the door at the spires base. Afterward, you and I can talk, if you wish, or you can leave, if you truly want to squander what Ive offered you. She turned then without another word and ran to Helen and Isaac, who passed through the doorway and disappeared, and Edda ducked in behind them. Benno looked back up at the other, fading Forror as it rushed, again, deep into the sky. He looked around at the terrified Forrorians, and at the ashy smear on the roofs bark where their rabbits had struck him. He took a breatha slow, deep breath that tasted like summer leaves and smokeand thought about his trailer. What did his trailer taste like? It had been so long since hed paid any attention. It probably tasted like gunpowder and body odor and stale whiskey. He didnt owe Edda anything. Nor did he owe anything to Helen or Isaac or the others still aboard the Shenandoah. They were strangers. There was absolutely no reason for him to take this any further Except If its real A big if, but if Two faces cried out from the dark folds of his mind. For seven years there had been nothing. No hope. No plan. No exit. But now, at the very least, there was a possibility. He scampered after Edda. # Immediately inside, all the sunlight from the roof was stifled away. Benno found himself instantly disoriented, his pupils sluggish to widen, still dizzy from the rise and fall of the other Forror. He reached out a hand to steady himself, and as his hand found the wall, his heart leapt, and he recoiled. Fur. The wall was covered in soft, brown fur the length of his hand. So was the floor and the ceiling. He passed through the short, fur covered hallway, which gave way to a large roomthrough which Edda, Isaac and Helen hurried toward yet another doorwayalso covered in fur. And from behind the fur, faint light bled, like sunlight through the membrane of an eyelid, illuminating the space in an earthy ochre hue. Stranger still, the fur was not inert. It driftedswayedslowly, as if underwater, and yet, to the touch, was completely dry. What is this? was the only question Benno could think to ask as he came to a stop and surveyed the furry room and the furry ceiling, which rose high overhead, arching with the shape of the spire. Eddaherself now a shape of swaying furbarely glanced back over her shoulder. The Forrorians are mammals, just like you, she offered before bowing through the door on the rooms far side. Benno exhaled, incredulous, as he followed, his footfalls dampened by the soft, furry floor. Helen led them down a furry staircase and another furry hallway. Edda stooped to avoid the low ceiling, which made her seem even larger than she already was. Benno wondered if Helen had been here before; She proceeded without pause, without wavering, her eyes focused ahead, and as soon as the thought crossed his mind, she came to an abrupt stop. In there, she said, her voice measured, indicating a doora furry door inset in the furry wall. Six of them. Three are armed. They know were here. Edda, nearly crouching, sized up the door, the fur reflected like smoke in her mask. Youve come this far, she said, turning to Benno. Why not lead us to our prize? If it''s real. If the Gardens is real... Sure, Benno scowled, managing to sound exactly as reluctant as he intended. Isaac, youre next, Edda said. Isaac lined up behind Benno, narrowing his shoulders and lowering his head, using Benno as a shield. Helen and Edda stood on either side of the doorway. Eddas mask reflected a tapered version of Bennos face. Go, she said. Benno took hold of the furry doorknoblike a spindly hamsterhesitated just for a moment, and then opened it and stepped through. # He shut his eyes, anticipating a barrage of rabbits. But a second went by, and another, and nothing happened, and he opened his eyes. There were six Forrorians, just as Helen had said. Three of them had guns trained at Bennoand now that he was nearer he was able to discern that the guns were not exactly gun-shaped in the way he was familiar with, but rather shaped like canes and wrapped in black fabric, leather or suedebut their furry fingers were drawn back from the triggers. All six Forrorians stood together at the far end of the smallish room, gathered around a furry pedestal on which a conspicuous glass case sat. Inside the case was what appeared to be the skeleton of a childs hand, its fingers outspread as if grasping out. Only there were sixor sevenfingers, and it wasnt bone, but some kind of porous stone, or coral, or petrified wood Berad eccfa fersh, one of the Forrorians said. Ecadetyph mandum olec pust. DO NOT FIRE ON THEM, Gemma translated in Bennos ear. IT WILL BURN DOWN THE WOMB. Helen and Isaac came up alongside Benno as Edda wrested herself through the doorway. She leaned steeply forward, her shoulders and back dragging along the furry ceiling, her enormous sword angled behind her, her blue hair black and louring in the somber light. The Forrorians shrunk back before her. Step aside, she said. DAGDA MEF. The Forrorians flinched and cowered at the boom of Gemmas monotonous Voice. I am taking the Koan, Edda said. ESMILAGED MONTUTH BURK. Elum. One of the unarmed Forrorians, whose smooth features were just beginning to wrinkle around the mouth and eyes, inched forward. Begdef alluserf mur magesfa. PLEASE, said Gemma. IT HAS BEEN IN OUR FAMILY FOR MILLENNIA. Step aside or we will remove you, Edda responded without hesitation. DAGDA MEF AZERSHUM FALA LUS. A terrified murmur passed through the gathered Forrorians. Elum the older one implored. PLEASE Edda half-turned and nodded at Isaac. Isaac swallowed audibly as he stepped forward, the material of his tracksuit swishing between his legs with each step. He walked past Edda and approached the Forrorians, his shoulders slumped, a bashful, apologetic grin on his face. The Forrorians gathered tighter together, their eyes wide.Two of them, both armed, stood to meet Isaac, forcing determined expressions that did nothing to conceal their trembling terror. Bennos mindsluggish from hours of unrelenting sensory overloaddid not manage to compute what was happening as Isaac squared up, raised his finger, and flicked the younger Forrorian in the face. There was a flash of red, and a wet crack, and the Forrorians head crumbled. Brains splattered across the furry room, drenching the other Forrorians in a sheet of blood. Then there was a window of silence, and in this window Isaac delivered another flick to the other standing Forrorian, this one to the chin, and the lower half of the Forrorians face exploded in a cloud of bone and blood. Then the screaming started. Erb! NO. Erb! NO. The remaining four Forrorians scrambled to the corners of the room, sobbing and shaking. Errrrb Errrrrrrrb NO. NO. Bennos heart thudded in his chest so violently that his body shook. He watched on as Edda wedged her long body through the small room, slapped the now unguarded glass case off the pedestalsending it toppling silently across the soft fur floorand plucked the exposed Koan from its stand. She held it upwhether to admire her acquisition or to mock the Forrorians was unclearher mask reflecting its many thin fingers. The lower half of her armor reflected a swatch of bright red. Ugly little thing, she said to the backdrop of the screaming, weeping Forrorians. Why anyone would covet such junk Isaac stepped slowly back, his hands in his pockets, his head lowered. Were finished. Edda closed her huge fist around the Koan and turned. Her long phallus nearly struck Benno as she lumbered from the room. Helen and Isaac followed. The remaining Forrorians watched Benno from scared, tearful eyes, small sounds of fear bubbling from them. Benno looked at the two deador one dead and another dying, blood spilling from the missing bottom of the head, the furry hands and feet flexing and twitching on the furry floor. I Benno tried to say, his lips dry, his breath hardly coming. I The Forrorians trembled. Benno was a monster in their eyes. Isaac was a terrible weapon. Helen was a ghoul. Edda was a huge, grotesque beast. Benno backed away. He stumbled over the long, swaying fur and into the hall, lingering at the doorway for another moment. The remaining Forrorians were stained with blood. Were these the brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, children, parents? He turned and sprinted away, images of a train smoldering off its tracks flashing in his mind, hearing again his fathers smokey, arrogant voice: We are what we repeatedly do. [Part I - Already Lost] Chapter 7 - You Have No Home, Theres No Such Thing Benno dressed in another Gemma-provided outfitidentical to the firstin the hallway off the Shenandoahs bridge. The return to the ship had felt both deliriously fast and mind-numbingly slow. He recalledfoggilybeing on the roof with Edda. He recalled transporting back aboard the Shenandoah, the whirring and the stifling darkness. He recalled standing on the bridge, where Hermann offered him a brief, sympathetic nod before wheeling himself over to Edda, who stood tall over her crew, her mask, sword and phallus gone, holding the Koan aloft in one long, slender hand, boasting in her strong, alluring voice about how easy it was to separate it from the Forrorians. He recalled standing and watching this for far too long before remembering he was naked, at which point he sulked off to the hall and dressed. He leaned against the hallways white marble wall, staring, despondent, at a statuette inset on a shelf, a bust of a woman with strong features and short hair. He wonderedin the way one wonders without noticingif the woman depicted in the bust was related to Edda. There was some resemblance, though it might have been merely a symptom of Eddas voiceher bragging, arrogant voiceinfiltrating Bennos ears as he stared at the smooth, unmoving face. This is worse, Benno thought with the part of his brain he was aware of. He pulled a whiskey from the air and took a long, shaky drink. Before, I was just minding my own business. I wasnt hurting anyone Images of the Forrorians wailing with fear and grief crashed through Bennos mind. He did not want to be part of this. I do not want to be part of this. He did not want to be whatever Edda and her crew werepirates and murderers. I do not want to be part of this. He wanted nothing to do with Edda or her pursuit of the Gardens, despiteor maybe because ofits untenable promises. He wanted to go home. He pressed his thumb to the Gemstoke. INPUT REQUEST. Just ask Gemma to take you where you want to go, Edda had said. It was that simple. I want to go home, Benno mumbled. ERROR. INTERFERENCE NUMBER 971: HOME LOCUS NOT INVENTORIED. Benno frowned down at the Gemstoke. Gemma, he said, articulating. Send me home. ERROR. INTERFERENCE NUMBER 971: HOME LOCUS NOT INVENTORIED. He held the Gemstoke to his lips. What does that mean? HOME LOCUS NOT INVENTORIED. Benno thought for a second. Can you take me to the Gardens? The Gemstoke whirred. ERROR. INTERFERENCE NUMBER 971. GARDENS LOCUS NOT INVENTORIED. Benno punched the wall, jostling the statuette. Of course he couldnt leave. Edda was a liar. Everything out of her mouth was twisted and false. She claimed not to keep prisoners, but held an old woman chained in a room in her house. She assured Benno he wouldnt have to engage with her operation, but then dropped him onto a roof and made him complicit in a robberyand a massacre. She made promises about a solutionabout the possibility of escaping his seven year Hellbut the Gardens was not real. It was an invention to placate Benno and exploit him until he was no longer needed. Edda was a conniver. A charlatan. A dangerous, duplicitous liar. You decent? Roses little voice called out from around the corner. Benno slid the Gemstoke into his pocket as Rose stepped into the hallway, waving lazily at a pall of smoke, a long, lit blunt in her stubby, childs fingers. She leaned her shoulder against the wall and eyed Benno for a moment, then took a deep drag. You dont look great naked, she said, holding her breath. Thanks for getting yourself dressed, for all our sakes. She exhaled a thick, dark cloud, which filled the hallway. Benno breathed slowly in the smoke. So whats your problem? Rose asked. No problem, Benno said, unable to conceal his disdain. Rose raised an eyebrow and gestured back toward the bridge, where Eddas voice held court. Not what you expected, huh? I didnt expect anything, Benno said. No one gave me anything to expect. I was asleep in my bed. I didnt know any of this existed. Then next thing I know Im here. No one asked me. No one gave me a choice. And now Benno tried to keep himself measured, but he could feel a hot fury rising in himleading him to the edge of his composureand he opted not to continue, closing his eyes and breathing slowly. Rose nodded, signaling nothing. That sucks, she said. You know what else sucks? Being a fucking crybaby. Benno stared at the girl for a long moment.How do I leave? Rose took another deep drag. You gotta practice a little selective sociopathy, she said. You cant care about everything all the time. I mean, whatever you saw down there, Im sure it stunk. Edda is She took a half-step forward and lowered her voice. A bit ruthless. Ive known her a long time and Ive seen some shit. But the truth is that bad things happen, whether or not youre involved. If it wasnt Edda, it would be someone else, or something else. And even if you leave, or look away, bad things are still gonna happen. Those folks down therethe Forrorians or whatevertheyll mourn and move on. Thats just part of life. We all mourn, right? And we all move on. Benno ground his teeth. So the best thing is just to lose touch with the part of yourself thats getting hung up. Let it wash over, or pass through, or go around or whatever the fuck. And look at the bigger picture. Some people lose, some people win. Today we won. Selective sociopathy. Benno glowered. Youre broken, he said. Youre all fucking broken. Rose shrugged. Whatever, whiskey breath. Bennos molars whined. How do I get home? Gemma doesnt understand the word home. Rose ashed her blunt on the floor. In her mindor whatever she hasall the Realms are inside the same big place. Its all the same to her. The Ensemble is her home. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. How Benno said through his teeth. Ask her to take you to your Realm of origin. Benno placed his thumb firmly on the Gemstoke. But before you do, Rose interjected, holding up the blunt for emphasis. I want you to hear one thing. If you havent heard anything else Ive said, I need you to hear this. Please Benno waited. She could say her final piece. It wouldnt make any difference, but she could say it. She stepped forward, glanced back over her shoulder, took a slow breath, and then lifted her leg and let out a long, winding fart. Benno nodded slowly. Take me to my Realm of origin, he said into the Gemstoke. INITIALIZING LOCUS RECALIBRATION Rose smirked and dragged on her blunt as the whirring sound rose up in Bennos ears and the world darkened around him. # As he stood in his trailer he realized, with a mix of relief and shock, that it had been less than twenty-four hours since hed last been here. He pulled back the crusty blinds and peered outside; thick snowflakes tumbled down from the overcast afternoon sky. There was no giant disembodied heart, no endless hills of yellow grass. Just the frozen, creaking woods surrounding his trailer at the end of a lonely dirt road in a depressed town in a struggling state in a declining country in an old world in which everything was dying except for him. Here I am. Here I still am. He picked up his fathers revolver from the table and studied it. It felt lighter than it usually did, perhaps on account of being unloaded. Or maybe it was a lightness of concept. He raised it to his head and pressed the cold muzzle against his temple. His finger settled on the trigger. He thought about Isaacs slap, and Hermanns voice: Nearly twice the energy of two cars colliding head on at eighty miles per houreach He set the revolver back on the table. His fingernails prodded the coin-shaped object in his pocket. It was real. It was here with him. It had followed him homeor to his Realm of origin. He pressed his thumb to it, thinking about a whiskey. He noticed his phone, half-concealed under the oily sheets on the unmade bed. He set it and the Gemstoke in the junk drawer. There was rusting from the corner of the trailer; a cockroach scurried from beneath a pile of dirty clothes, up the wall, and into a crack beneath the window frame. Benno threw on his coat and made the long, cold walk to the liquor store. # The aluminum handle on the liquor stores glass door had a little dimple at exactly the spot where Benno tended to place his thumb. It had been there for years, so familiar that Benno rarely noticed it anymore. But today it was distinct. It nearly perfectly matched the dimensions of the pad of his thumb. Had opening the door day after day after year after year after year with his thumb in the same spot slowly worn the dimple into existence? Had he been like the tide to a cliff? Or did it have nothing to do with him at all? Mickeys mother sat on her stool staring blindly toward a corner of the store. Her lips were caked with dry spittle, her purple, swollen ankles protruding over the tops of her sneakers. Benno had never noticed before, but the old woman wore a thin chain necklace around her engorged neck, its pendantif there was oneconcealed inside her wrinkled collar. Lucky, Benno thought. Lucky That all today? Mickey asked, poking at the register. Benno looked down at the bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Yeah, he said, fishing a crumpled wad of bills from his back pocket. You know Mickey took Bennos money. I shouldnt have said any of that stuff yesterday. Its none of my business how much you drink, or how you lookeven if you look goodand I hope I didnt offend you. Never crossed my mind. Benno slid the bottle into his coat pocket. Mickey offered a gracious nod. I like your new shirt, he said. Benno glanced back at the old woman. Can you see my mind? he thought. Can you? The old woman stared off, unmoving. Hey, what happened to your beard? Mickey asked. Benno pulled his collar up. Cooking accident, he said, heading for the door. Happens to the best of us. Mickey slammed the register shut. See you tomorrow, Benno. See you tomorrow, Mickey. # The snow picked up steadily, dusting the already icy woods in a fresh layer of powder as Benno walked along the narrow dirt road. A murder of crows, picking at the carcass of a deer, scattered as he approached, landing in the low boughs overhead and watching him until he passed before flustering down and resuming their meal. There was someone in the front yard of the Rogers house as Benno approached. A boy in a blue winter jacket, the hood pulled up over his blonde hair. He packed a pile of pebbly snow into the vague shape of a snowman. It had been months since Benno had seen Asher Rogers. He looked bigger, lankier. But still just a child. No older than eight. Benno stopped across from the house, sliding the half-drunk bottle of whiskey into his pocket. He watched Asher sculpt the snowmans head, using the thumb of his mitten to drill two oblong eyes in its face. He hummed to himself quietly, endearingly off-key. It wasnt until he turned to retrieve more snow that he noticed Benno. He startled, the bone-deep, breath-catching startle of someone who had something to fear, who had been conditioned to anticipate pain. One of his eyes was swollen shut, a deep, tarnished bruise spreading halfway down his face. Scabs of various ages covered his lips. Inside the collar of his jacket, just under his chin, another bruise, yellowing, in the vague shape of a wide hand. Bennos toes curled in his sneakers. That something so vulnerable and so precious could be mistreated so viciously, could be taken so heinously for granted, was wicked. It was wicked and vile, and heartbreaking. It was unacceptable. Cool snowman, Benno said. Asher lowered his good eye. Are you gonna give it a nose and mouth? Benno asked. I dont think so, Asher said, his voice meeker than Benno would have expected from a boy his age. You know, Benno said. I just met someone who only had eyes. No nose, no mouth, nothing. They had a funny name, too. Want to hear it? Asher nodded. Ddoak Michol. Asher cracked a smile, revealing a row of beige, neglected teeth. Thats silly, he said. It is silly. Benno glanced up and down the dirt road, then took a few steps toward the house. He wasnt sure what he was doing, but his body moved and his mouth spoke. I want to talk to your mom, he said. Is she home? Any levity in Ashers face dissolved. Shes sleeping, he said. How about your dad? Asher seemed to shrink. Hes out. But hell be back soon. Benno took another step. I know we dont know each other well, he said. I mean, Ive seen you grow up, but weve never really met Youre Benno, Asher said. Thats right. I live just up there. You know that. And I just want you to know, that if you ever If you ever feel like youre in any danger, or if you need anything and youre afraid to talk to your mom or What Im trying to say, Asher, is Im a friend. Asher looked out at Benno from inside his hood, his swollen eye a dark stain on his face. What did Benno look like to him? A stranger? A lonely drunk? A monster? Asher fiddled with his mittens, and then, finally, opened his mouth to speak The roar of an engine rose up from down the road. Jasons truck appeared around the bend, trundling over the rutted ice and spewing clouds of exhaust as it accelerated toward the house. Benno turned to face the truck. The engine revved. Would Jason attempt to run him over? Would it be that easy? The truck turned sharply and rocked to a stop, its wide tires straddling the driveway and the icy lawn. The engine cut and the door flew open. Jason clambered out, his face an angry red, the veins in his neck throbbing. The fuck do you think youre doing? he growled, slamming the trucks door and clomping across the ice. I told you to stay the fuck away from my house! He stomped up to Benno and shoved him as hard as he could. Benno was a mountain. Jason stumbled backward with the reciprocal force of his own shove. His feet slid on the ice and he fell, hard, onto his ass. Benno glowered down at him. Jason scrambled onto his feet and fixed Benno with an enraged and bewildered glare. You get the fuck outta here now! he said, backing away onto his lawn, a thick finger leveled at Benno, his voice betraying a nervous flutter. And next time I see you out here youll be looking down the barrel of my nine. He turned and huffed up to his son, who cowered as he neared. And you! He shoved the boy, sending him roughly onto his back, before seizing him by the hood and dragging him to his feet. You get your faggot ass back in the house and stop fucking around with snowmen! What kind of boy are you? Your slut mother coddles you and this is what she gets! He dragged Asher up the porch steps and threw open the front door. In the moment before he pushed Asher inside, the boy looked back around the edge of his hood, his one good eye finding Benno. Jason lingered in the doorway for another second, turning back to Benno, his ruddy face ruddier than ever, then entered the house and slammed the door behind him. Benno glanced up the road toward his trailer. He touched the bottle of whiskey through his coat. It was a cruel world. Thats just how it was. Benno had his own problems. He lowered his head, crossed the yard, climbed the porch steps, and walked into the Rogers home. [Part I - Already Lost] Chapter 8 - Misery Lights It was cluttered and the light was muddled. There was a pile of garbage bags stacked just inside that appeared full of clothes. A cardboard box overflowing with random detrituscoffee mugs, phone chargers, unopened bills, water-damaged magazinessat in a doorway, blocking entrance to whatever room lay beyond. There were coats strewn over the backs of folding chairs. A framed Die Hard poster hung on the wall, crooked. There was an odor like unwashed dishes and spoiled food. Benno let the door thwat closed behind him. He stood in the hall, surveying the houses musky interior. Hed walked past this house thousands of timestwice a day, every day, for seven yearsyet had never really bothered wondering what it might look like on the inside. Now that he was here, it turned out he hadnt needed to wonder: it looked exactly as it seemed it would from the outside. It was quiet, no sign of Asher or Jason. Benno stepped into a room off the hall, what appeared to beor to have beena dining room, full of additional clutter: Boxes piled in a corner, a long, scuffed table pushed against a wall and buried under shopping bags, a rolled up beige carpet leaning precariously in a corner. The meager light that managed to wrest inside around the edges of the blinds exposed whorling dust. On the far end of the room, his hands at his sides and his hood still pulled snuggly over his head, Asher stood watching Benno from his one open eye. Benno stood in the dinge. Ill take you somewhere safe, he said, extending his hand. Ashers eye flickered to the space over Bennos shoulder, and there was the sound of a gun racking. Benno turned slowly to face the muzzle of Jasons pistol. Jason scowled down the length of his arm, his red, vascular hands gripping the pistol tightly. The muzzle trembled. Guess you wanna die, Jason seethed, his dark eyes glistening. Benno sidled a half-inch to his right, drawing the pistols bearing away from Asher. You cant kill me, Benno said, his voice measured. Ever hear of stand your ground, motherfucker? Benno stood his ground. Now pay attention, boy, Jason said to Asher without taking his eyes off Benno. This is how a real man acts. This is how a real man protects his property. Please dont, Asher said so quietly that Benno was certain Jason hadnt heard himthough it wouldnt have made a difference if he had. Fuck you, creep. Jason gritted his teeth, and then fired. The muzzle flashed. Benno felt the bullet against his forehead. There was a BANG followed by a pair of soft clinksone casing and one flattened bullethitting the floor. Then silence. Jasons eyes narrowed, searching for the bullet hole that mustcertainlyhave opened in Bennos face. Benno snatched the pistols barrel. Jason recoiled, tugging the gun, desperate to keep Benno from taking it from him. But Benno did not want the gun; he stepped forward, planting the muzzle firmly against his own forehead. Do it again, he said, fury dripping from his voice. Jason did not hesitate. He pulled the trigger. There was another flash, another BANG, and another pair of clinks. Again, Benno said, his grip on the barrel tightening. Jason pulled the trigger again. BANG. Clink-clink. Again. BANG. Clink-clink Again. Jasons face twisted into terror, and his finger drifted off the trigger. Wha wha he stammered. Benno released the barrel, and Jason stumbled back. I told you, Benno said. You cant kill me. You cant hurt me. He took a step forward, and Jason stepped backward. No matter what you do, I will not die. This might bother you, but I promise it bothers me more. Jasons back came up against the wall. He raised the pistol over his head, as if about to strike Benno with it, but then thought better. Benno loomed mere inches from the other mans face. But thats not your problem, Benno said. Your problem is this: Finally, after all these years, youre about to learn what it feels like when someone you cant stop decides to hurt you. Do you understand why this is an important lesson? Can you think of any reason why this matters? Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Jasons wide eyes searched, and his lips trembled. Answer me! Benno roared. Jason shook his head. No His voice was an octave higher than usual. No I I cant think of any reason Benno nodded. Thats because youre stupid. A stupid, weak man. Youre supposed to protect him. But instead and theres nothing he can do. He cant protect himself. To him, youre unstoppable. But now look at you. Now youre the one who needs protection. And theres nothing you can do. Tears leaked from Jasons eyes, his skin as red as hot coals. I I I know its not okay anymore, he stuttered. I get that now. But his mother, she pushes all my buttons. The two of them They team they team up on me But I know I know I wont hit him anymore. I promise. Ill never lay a hand on him again. No. Benno yanked the gun from Jasons grip and dropped it on the floor. You wont. # Jasons bloodied body lay crumpled on the floor. Benno stood over him, breathing heavily, his knuckles stained with blood. There was a ringing in his ears, like a teapot boiling in another room, and his vision tapered inward, shutting out everything but the broken bones and macerated flesh where Jason Rogers face used to be. Was he dead? It was hard to say. Did it matter? Maybe. Benno wasnt sure yet. If he survived, the asshole would likely never breathe right through his nose again, and hed be lucky if he didnt lose his vision. His left eye in particular was a pulpy mess, the lid already swelling shut around it like a fist. His lips were split open in deep gashes, and his teeth were loose or missing. One of his ears was torn at the lobe, and dangled off his head. His foot jerked minutely, the only indication that he might still be alive. Benno focused on steadying his breathing. Slowly, his vision opened. He wiped his knuckles on his jeans and rolled his neck, feeling it crack. He turned away from Jason, pulled the bottle of whiskey from his coat pocket, and took a long swig. Youre safe now, he said when hed finished drinking. You dont have to worry about him hurting you any But Asher was gone. Benno walked slowly across the room and turned the corner into the kitchen. The boy cowered in the corner below the counter, shaking and crying. He held a cordless phone to his ear. When he saw Benno, he shrunk. Please he said into the phone. Please help The man is hurting my daddy Benno could hear the muffled voice of the police operator through the phone, trying to keep Asher calm, to keep him on the line. Please Ashers little body lurched with sobs. Please help Benno wobbled as he backed out of the kitchen. The ringing in his ears persisted, so loudly that at first he didnt notice there was someone screaming directly behind him. No!!! Bennos vision blurred as he turned, as if underwater. Kathy Rogers stood just inside the dining room, clutching at her stained t-shirt in both hands, gawping at her husbands broken body. She had dark bags under her eyes, her cheeks sunken, her hair a tangled nest. What did you do!?! Her bloodshot eyes were wild. What did you do!?! Bennos mouth openedas if there was something to say but his feet carried him swiftly toward the front door. He felt Kathy Rogers fists beating his shoulders as he went, and her high-pitched screams to Get out!!! Get out of here!!! but it all felt faraway. It felt almost as if it was happening to someone else. The snow had picked up. Benno hurried up the dirt road toward his trailer. Bile bubbled up his esophagus as a list cobbled together in his numb, racing mind: His wife and son. The people on that train. The Forrorians. The Rogers family. We are what we repeatedly do. Everywhere he went, death followedbut always biding a cruel distance from Benno himself. His wife and son. The people on that train. The Forrorians. The Rogers family. He was no better than Edda or Isaac. He was no better than Jason Rogers. He was no better than the driver who had struck his familys car. His wife and son. The people on that train. The Forrorians. The Rogers family. Behind him, still in the distance, the sound of sirens approached. # He washed the blood from his knuckles, then put the revolver and the remaining bullets in an old plastic shopping bag. He figured he didnt need the gunit was useless to begin withbut packing gave him something to do while he worked up the courage to do what came next. He peeked through the blinds at the dirt road. The snow had worsened to the point that he could hardly see more than a hundred feet from the trailer, but faintly, refracting through the pall of icy white, he could make out the blue and red flashing lights speeding from the Rogers house toward his trailer. Benno owned very few sentimental possessions. In fact, other than the two items in the bedside drawer he needed most, he struggled to think of anything else to bring. He settled on tossing his toothbrushwhich he acknowledged, eyeing its bent, wiry bristles, he hadnt used in monthsinto the shopping bag with the revolver. Then he sat on the narrow twin bed, opened the drawer beside it, and removed the Gemstoke and his old, dead phone. Many years ago, he and his wife and son had gone to see a play at the local theater. Into the Woods, a musical that combined a bunch of classic fairy tales into a comedic homage. For days afterward, his wife and son had walked around the house singing together the catchier tunes from the play. At the time, Benno recalled, hed been irritated by the incessant singing, the same twee songs over and over in two untrained voices. He had memories of leaving the room when they started singing, or manufacturing an errand to run. But now, with the bleating screech of sirens outside his trailer, the ceaseless ringing in his ears, and the stark absence of his family from his life, he missed it so terribly that he started to cry. Police! A gruff voice shouted from outside the trailers door. Open up! Benno wiped his eyes and placed the phone into his pocket. He took one more look around his trailer. Open this door! A cockroach crawled from the crack beneath the window frame, scurried down the wall, and disappeared beneath a pile of dirty clothes. Open it now! Benno pressed his thumb to the Gemstokes flat surface. He could almost hear his wifes voice, its earnest lilt, trying to track down harmonies to their sons small, pitchy notes. He could almost hear their laughter. He could almost see them dancing. INPUT REQUEST A loud THUD shook the trailers door, bending its hinges. A second THUD broke it open. Benno closed his eyes. His wife and son used to dance together. She loved him more than Benno knew anyone could love anything. He could almost see them dancing Almost On the floor! Now! Now!!! Something in his hand! Get on the fucking floor! Gemma, Benno said under his breath, cold air rushing in through the open door and ruffling his hair. Take me back to the Inn. [Part II - The Baba鈥檅a鈥檏sum] Chapter 9 - Club Kid Inferno Benno found himself on the Shenandoahs bridge. It was dark save for a single purple light on the ceiling that cast deep black shadows on the table and chairs. He reasoned that the Gemstoke returned him to an approximation of whatever his last location was in a given Realm: Hed originally been taken from his Realm while in his bed in his trailer, and was returned to the table in his trailer a few feet away. Hed left this Realm from the hallway off the bridge of the Shenandoah, and was returned to the bridge itself. It was a slight imperfection in the logistics of Realm travel which, in that moment, irritated him greatly. The hallway off the bridge led to a dead end where the doorway should have been. Benno stood staring at the wall, holding the plastic bag with his revolver and toothbrush, for several minutesseveral minutes of staring at a wallbefore he pulled Gemma from his pocket. Can you let me out of here? A rectangular section of wall melted away, revealing the darkened hangar beyond. Benno dragged his feet as he went, his sneakers squeaking and echoing through the cavernous space. He exited the hangar and descended the narrow concrete staircase, then wandered through the maze of hallways with their salmon-colored carpet and genital-looking floral wallpaper and endless rows of doors. Where is everyone? he asked Gemma after some time. ERROR. INTERFERENCE NUMBER 118. THE CURRENT LOCUS OF ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND QUADRILLION VIGINTILLION INDIVIDUALS CANNOT ADEQUATELY BE EXPRESSED IN TERMS SUITABLE FOR Gemma, Benno interrupted. Where is Edda and her crew? ROOM 427208. How do I get there? TAKE A RIGHT THEN A LEFT THEN A LEFT THEN A RIGHT THEN A RIGHT THEN A LEFT THEN A RIGHT THEN A LEFT THEN A LEFT. Benno sighed and took the next right, then paused at the following fork. Gemma. What do I do now? # He stood outside room 427208. From behind the door: music and voices. The music was synthy, the voices lively. There was the clinking of glasses and Hermanns careful pronunciation badly slurred. Helen shouted something, and then laughed. A loud snort followed by boisterous cheering. Coughing. More laughter. Another snort. Benno considered knocking, then settled on simply walking in. He was accosted by a wall of smoketobacco, weed, something else he didnt recognizeand the monstrous thrum of drums and bass. He swatted at the smoke to get a look around. The room looked like the VIP section of a nightclub: red leather seats and a red leather sofa and red carpets awash in sultry red light. A wide glass table in the rooms middle was strewn with bottles of liquor, bowls of rainbow-colored pills and small piles of white powder. Speakers mounted along the rooms red velvet walls blasted EDM at a debilitating volume. There was a mirror on the ceiling, reflecting a dark red mockery. Edda sat on the sofa, her armor a smokey, smoldering red, her long legs crossed. Dante sat beside her, his eyes bloodshot, holding a martini glass in one hand and a short metal straw in the other, decked out from head to toe in tight-fitting leather. Beside him was Isaacstill in his tracksuitleaning over the table and snorting a thick line of what Benno assumed was cocaine with his own metal straw. In the red chair next to him, Helen sat, a dark wet stain down the front of her NASCAR sweater, anxiously awaiting her turn at the pile of powder. Hermann was slumped in his wheelchair, the top button of his shirt undone, exposing a section of pale, hairless chest, an inebriated grin plastered on his wrinkly face. Ddoak Michol stood off in the corner alone, their wide, bloated eyes staring. The only person in the room Benno didnt recognize was a little girl, no older than eight, covered in tattoos from head to toe. She sat to Eddas right smoking an enormous blunt and nursing a can of PBR. Despite her childlike appearance, her eyes signaled an aged weariness. The door slammed shut behind Benno, and everyone looked up. The music dropped a few decibels from its ferocious volume to a more manageable blare. A moment passed, and Benno prepared himself for whatever reprimand was coming his way. Pay up, bitches, said the little girl, standing and slapping her PBR down on the table. Goddammit. Dante wedged a hand into the tight pocket of his leather pants. I cant believe you got it on the inside. I cant lose. The girl revealed a gold incisor. I never learned how. Dont be so fucking cocky, you little shit, said Helen, shaking her head but fishing through her own pockets regardless. Dont be a bitter old redneck. The girl winked. You know, Hermann slurred, his head lolling up. I could win the overwhelming majority of these bets if I participated. Thats why you sit on the bench. Dante handed the little girl a handful of what appeared to be glass beads. Im simply remarking. Hermann shrugged happily and closed his eyes. Helen handed the girl more beads, and Isaac did the same. The girl dropped them into a pocket in her dress and sat back down, taking a long, satisfied pull on her blunt. Well now that weve had our fun, said Edda, reaching into the air and producing a glass of whiskey, which she extended toward Benno. Why dont we offer our friend a drink and a place to sit. Benno ignored the whiskey until Edda shrugged and set it on the table. You placed bets? he asked. Edda smiled softly. Its just a silly tradition. Cant remember the last time someone came back the same day, said Helen. Benno frowned. What do you mean? Most of the time its a few days at least, Helen said. Isaac was gone for what? A month and a half? Isaac nodded and wiped his nose, then leaned back to allow Helen access to the cocaine, which she promptly and eagerly indulged. Theres only one of us who didnt storm off after their first errand, said Dante, gesturing toward the rooms corner where Ddoak stood with their arms at their sides, so completely still it seemed they might be merely a piece of furniture. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. You all left? Benno asked, feeling a strange concatenation of relief and resentment. Dante and Isaac nodded. Helen grimaced and pinched the bridge of her nose. The little girl smirked. All for longer than you. Dante crossed his legs. Guess you didnt have as many qualms as Rose said you did. And yet she still bet on the inside. Helens eyes narrowed. Isnt that interesting The fuck are you saying? the girl sneered. Helen shrugged. I wouldnt put it past you. I dont need to cheat to beat the likes of you, you walking sleep apnea machine. Helen stood abruptly, bumping the table with her knee and toppling a mostly empty martini glass. Ill stuff your little ass in the microwave! The girl also stood, and there was a click and a glint of red light from her hand where a switchblade appeared. Stop it, both of you, Edda said firmly but with enough disinterest that Benno inferred this kind of thing happened often and without consequence. Tonight we are celebrating our success. Not squabbling over nonsense. A second passed, with Helen glaring at the girl and the girl smirking back at Helen. Then the switchblade went away and they both sat back down. Benno picked up the whiskey from the table. Whats in the bag? Dante asked, nodding at Bennos hand. Benno glanced down at the conspicuous bulge of his fathers gun through the thin, translucent plastic. Just my toothbrush, he said. So what changed your mind? The little girl relit her blunt with a Zippo. Since the last time we talked? Benno frowned. Ive never met you. Edda let out a groan. For goodness sake, Rose. Oops. The girl chuckled. Honestly forgot. Then Benno remembered her, and though he was loath to admit it, he was almost glad to see her. So you can make people forget about you, he said. Rose leaned back on the sofa and drew a shape in the air with the cherry of her blunt. You cant even begin to imagine how useful it is. Before you came in, Edda said, taking a glass of red wine and a long filtered cigarette from the air. We were discussing how well you performed today. If it wasnt for you, we might have had to retreat. But thanks to your gift Gift? Benno interjected. Is that how you see it? He looked around at the others. Because its not. Not at all. Its Its Hell. Its a fucking empty, endless Hell. You have no idea. You all take it for granted, the the finitude. Death is a promise. A promise you dont want kept until its taken away. Then it turns out its all you ever really had. At that moment, the song playing through the speakers ended, and there was a short stretch of silence before the next one started. Edda lit her cigarette with a flame that seemed to flicker directly from the tip of her turquoise fingernail. That aside, she said, impatient, as if Benno had interrupted her with some banality like what hed had for lunch. Our success today was notable. The Koan has buyers, and a bidding war is underway. By tomorrow morning the extent of our profit will be clear, and it will be glorious. She raised her wineglass. Here, here, said Dante, sloshing his martini. Hail Satan, said Rose, tilting her PBR vaguely in Eddas direction. Helen pawed around on the table until she found a full-enough bottle of vodka, which she hoisted high in the air. Slinte! Isaac raised his beer, then nudged Hermann, who slouched sideways in his wheelchair before rousing and blinking around for a second, then grinning sleepily. Success to temperance, he giggled, his eyes already closing again. Everyone drank. Benno held his whiskey at his side. So when do we go? he asked. To the Gardens? Eddas dark green lips left dark green smears on the filter of her cigarette, and her orange eyes looked red in the rooms red light. Benno held her stare. When is this all over? As soon as we locate it, she said. Im gonna need more than that. Benno said. Because the way you explained it, Im a big part of this whole thing. An integral part. Without me you dont really have any way in, right? He paused for a few seconds, during which Edda watched him over the rim of her wineglass with an inscrutable expression. So Im gonna need you to be more specific. What are you doing to locate it? How long do you think it will take? Because this? He gestured to the table cluttered with bottles and drugs. And what happened today in that city? Im not here for any of it. Ill tolerate it, if it means what youve promised. But I wont tolerate it for long. Eddas unreadable expression did not falter. Rose glanced from Edda to Benno, her eyebrows raised with prankish anticipation. Isaacs leg jounced. Dante and Helen exchanged a look. That is fair, Edda said finally, setting down her glass. And I respect your candor. As I told you earlier, the Gardens is nomadic Be more specific. Eddas eyes narrowed. You were a science teacher. Of children, but nonetheless. And your parents were brilliant academics. So I assume you at least appreciate some degree of the complexities of quantum probability. The same way nature cannot calculate the exact position and duration of particles, nor can it predict the exact position and duration of the Gardens locus. So how do you find it? Painstakingly, and with luck, using a tool that I devised. It is profoundly resource consumptive, and thus expensive to run, but it works. How do you know? Have you found the Gardens before? Eddas wineglass clinked against her teeth. Yes, she said. Once. And? And what? Benno held her gaze. So how long? How long until this tool of yours finds the Gardens again? Days? Months? Years? Edda fought back a sneer. I dont know. But I assure you that your desire to arrive there is no greater than mine or anyone elses in this room. We all have losses we wish to recoup. So while I cannot force you to be agreeable, I can ask you to be patient. She took a slow drag on her cigarette. Is that sufficient? I dont know, said Benno. A moment unfurled. What are you gonna wish for, Benno? Dante asked, tossing his empty martini glass over his shoulder, where it tumbled and vanished. Im gonna wish for Edda stood abruptly. Im retiring for the evening. She stepped easily over the table. Enjoy yourselves tonight. Youve earned it. But remember that tomorrow is another workday. She strode past Benno, the smell of firewood and lilacs cutting through the rooms dank odor, and swung open the door, a pall of smoke following her into the hall. Gnight, Captain, Dante said, half-standing as the door drifted shut behind her. Gnight, Captain, Rose mocked. For fucks sake. You thirsty loser. Im being polite. She doesnt want to hear about your wishes anymore. Rose cracked open another PBR. Or anybodys for that matter. Shes also never gonna fuck you. Dante scoffed and crossed his arms. She has debts, Helen said while cutting a fresh line of cocaine with a razor blade. A lot of debts. Most of what she takes in goes right back out. Benno shrugged. So? Im just saying. Looking for the Gardens is expensive. Lotta resources. And shes tight on resources. Who are they to? Benno asked. The debts? Lotta folks. Helen leaned over her line. And whats she planning to wish for once she gets to the Gardens? Helen snorted and winced. Shes never told me. Me neither, said Rose. Dante shrugged. Isaac shook his head. Benno glanced at Hermannfast asleepand then Ddoak, who stared off, motionless. This blow makes me have to shit, said Helen. Lets switch to K. Gemma, lets get some ketamine, said Rose, and then she was holding a plastic baggie bulging with glassy dust. Also, this musics gotta go. We should pruh-pruhprobably eat, t-t-t also, Isaac offered, drumming on his knees with his knuckles. I could eat, Hermann mumbled without opening his eyes. Dante reached into the bowl of pills on the table and scooped a palmful. Which of these is Vicodin? The white ones. Which white ones? The round ones. Those are Adderall. The oval ones then. Buh-buh-Benno, what do you wuh-want to eat? Rose dumped the pile of dust onto the table. Gemma, play Sober by TOOL. I hope this is Vicodin The song started, melancholy and ominous. Rose this fucking music. Its good for you. Also maybe stop doing the coke if its making you have to poop. I used to think it was the baby laxatives that did it, but I guess its something else, cause Gemmas shit is cleaner than bleach. Im having p-p-pancakes, said Isaac, poking Hermann. Do you want your roast chuhchicken? Hm? Oh yes, that sounds fine, my boy. Ill do a ribeye. How do you want this, Helen? Fried chicken sandwich with mayo. How are you doing it? IV. Okay. Sushi for me. And get Ddoak their bread thing. And you, Buh-benno? Benno cleared his throat. I dont eat. Isaac glanced up. S-s-ssssorry? I dont eat, Benno said louder. Everyone turned and looked at him. I uh He sipped his whiskey, suddenly inexplicably self-conscious. I cant die. I dont need to eat. Eating is pointless and it makes me uncomfortable. I havent eaten anything in in seven years. Helen glanced at Dante, who glanced at Isaac. Rose shrugged her eyebrows and placed the pair of syringes she was loading gently down on the table. Benno tapped the rim of his whiskey glass with an uncut fingernail and ran his tongue around the inside of this mouth. A few seconds went by, then a few more, then a minute had passed without anyone speakingthe only sound TOOLs fevered, angsty droningand Benno realized he had managed, inadvertently, to convey what he had failed earlier to explain. [Part II - The Baba鈥檅a鈥檏sum] Chapter 10 - The Everson Family Motor Company In the morning, Benno brushed his teeth for the first time in weeks, showered for the first time in months, and then shaved for the first time in years. Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, he was astonished by just how preserved he appeared. He had memories of shaving as a younger man, taking off stubble after a few weeks or short beards after a few months, and every time being faced by some indication of his advancing age: A new wrinkle around the edge of the mouth, or a more pronounced drooping of flesh beneath the chin. But now, despite so many years having passed, his face was utterly unchanged from the last time hed seen it. He of course knew this was going to happen. He had prepared himself for it. And yet it saddened and rattled him. It was an even crueler reminder of his condition than the endless barrage of bullets to his temple. It was a reminder that it wasnt just his body that trapped him, but some aspect of time itself. A dead tree in a world without rot. Well look at you, creep, said a voice behind him. Benno turned. The man stood at the foot of his bed, partially concealed from Bennos view by the bathrooms doorframe. His face was a mess of blood and protruding bone, his red hands clenched into fists, his boots flecked with dirty ice. A wet wheezing emanated from one of the macerated holes in his face. All cleaned up with nowhere to go. The mans swollen tongue garbled his words. Must be nice to have a face. Were not all so lucky, you know. Benno turned back to the mirror. He wiped a glob of shaving cream off the glass with his thumb, leaving a smudge with the distinct impression of his fingerprint. When he turned back toward the doorway the man was gone. He dressed in a new set of clothes and then sat at the foot of the bed. I want to get rid of this carpet, he said into the Gemstoke. PROCESSING He lifted his feet as the coarse, salmon-colored carpet faded out of existence, revealing dark, sooty concrete identical to that of the room in which Edda kept the Haruspex. How about some hardwood? The sooty floor was replaced by laminated wood flooring, which refracted the faint, yellowish light that trickled in from around the curtainscurtains Benno made a point to keep drawn so as to avoid having to look at the Coil, beating in the sky. Instead of wallpaper, he said. How about just some plain white paint No, thats not right And this hardwood floor isnt right either Benno fiddled with the Gemstoke, chewing his lip. He knew he didnt want the salmon-colored carpet and lime green wallpaper. He knew he didnt want the bed stands and the bed sheets folded into hospital corners, the beige chair and table. He knew he didnt want this motel room. But he didnt know what he did want. It had been seven years since hed lived in a proper house, and back then his wife had taken charge of all the interior decoration. He didnt know what kind of place would make him comfortableif comfort was even something he could attain. He didnt know where he wanted to be Gemma, he said, standing. Can you make it look like my trailer? The whirring sound started up, and the room began to waver, not unlike hot air over pavement. Benno blinked once, twice, and then the room was different. The bed was gone. The beige table and chair were gone. The walls were now bare linoleum, the floor the same. There was the old folding table, cluttered with empty bottles, the beda narrow cotunmade against the wall, the oily sheets bunched atop it. There were dirty clothes piled in the corners, crumpled plastic bags strewn abouteven the smell, of stale alcohol and unwashed clothes. The only thing that distinguished it from his actual trailer was the single window over the bedmuch wider than the tailers little peepholesconcealed behind the same pink curtains. Benno drew the curtains aside and peeked out, half expecting to see the snowy woods, a blue sky, perhaps a snarl of police cars blocking the dirt road. But instead, the grassy yellow hills sprawled beneath a featureless white sky, and the Coil thudded overhead, raining its endless torrent of dark blood. He let the curtains fall closed and stood by the table. This place is a fucking sty, said the man with the macerated face, now standing in a corner beside a pile of dirty clothes. I thought the outside was bad, but this I used to drive Asher down the road once in a while so he could see how you lived. And I warned him, Boy, you keep your act together or else you could end up like this. He laughed, a croaking, windy sound from the open channels in his face. Benno sat at the table. The mans laughter waned into a scabby wheeze. You know I always figured you were hunting or something. All those gunshots, all the time. Either that or you were some kind of nut-job terrorist hatching a plot. You definitely gave that vibe. A cockroach scuttled from beneath the pile of clothes, up the mans icy boot, and into the leg of his pants. What do you want? Benno asked. What do you want? The mans ruined face seemed to twist into a grin. We didnt ask to be here. We? But the man was gone. Benno fingered the cool, smooth surface of the Gemstoke, his hands shaking faintly, and looked around the trailer. Gemma, he said. What do you suggest for I dont know, if I wanted to add a little something. ERROR. INTERFERENCE NUMB A plant, Benno said. I want a plant. Something small, in a pot. Here on the table. A shape swam into fruition and hardened there in the tables middle: A little plant with wide, oval-shaped leaves and dainty stems in a clay pot. It looked healthy. Benno went to the bathrooma grimy, closet sized room and the only other room in the trailerand filled an old, stained coffee mug with water. He returned with it and poured it slowly into the pot. His wife had always been the one who took care of the plants. Benno honestly wasnt sure hed ever watered a plant in his life. He chuckled, startled by how good it felt to perform this simple, kind act. This is your cup now, he said, setting the mug gently on the table beside the plant. Then he sat down, placed his hand softly against the pot, and didnt move for hours. # Hermann and Isaac fetched him from his room that afternoon. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Why, youre just a baby, Hermann said with genuine surprise, struck by Bennos beardless face for a moment before his eyes wandered past him and into the messy trailer, at which point his brow furrowed with confusion. Benno stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him. Hermann cleared his throat. Were needed in the hangar, he said. More pillaging and plundering? Hermann chuckled as if Benno had made a joke. How are you feeling today? he asked. I for one woke up with a bit of a hangover. But nothing a warm bath and some hair of the dog couldnt fix. I dont get hungover, Benno said as they started down the hallway. Oh, of course. Hermann cleared his throat again. Our boy Isaac had a rough morning, too. Didnt you, young man? I threw up a buh-buh-bunch. That he did. So where are we headed today? Benno attempted again. We are going to see some friends. Benno raised an eyebrow. We have friends? Of course. They turned down another hallway. So Edda Benno started, glancing first at Isaac and then at Hermann to gauge their willingness to discuss possibly delicate matters with him. Whats her story? What do you mean? I mean Benno chewed his lip for a moment. Shes already lied to me a few times, and Ive only been here for a day. He hesitated, debating whether or not to ask the final questionthen went for it. Can we trust her? Hermann looked straight ahead, betraying no reaction. Mistrust begets mistrust, he said, and then said nothing else. Benno drummed his fingers on his thigh as they turned down another hall. And how about the Gardens, he tried. Is it real? As real as anything, Hermann said. How do you know? Ive been a member of Eddas crew for a long time. I was here when it was located. So youve seen it. Well, as you know, very few have seen it. But Ive studied Gemmas readouts. Gemma isnt always right. Shes right about quantitative things like that. She got my age wrong, Benno said, remembering. She was off by seven years. Hermann frowned. Curious, he said as they arrived at the door of the stairwell to the hangar. Isaac, my boy. Would you be so kind as to carry me up? # Edda stood at the Shenandoah checking a series of readings on a panel exposed by an open rectangular hatch in the hull. Dante and Helen stood together at the other end of the vessel. Dante wore sunglasses and sipped miserably from a bottle of water. Helen drank coffee from a paper cup, her eyes bloodshot and her skin a queasy greenish hue. Rose sat on the hangars concrete floor nearby, listening to music through a pair of enormous headphones. Ddoak was absent. Were here, Hermann said as he, Isaac and Benno approached. Edda waved her hand across the hatch, drawing it silently closed, then turned to face her crew. I hope you all managed to get some rest, she said, six faces reflected in her carapace. We have a long day ahead of us. She focused on Rose, who nodded along with her music, gazing off across the empty hangar. Rose Rose! Rose looked up and removed her headphones. Yeah? Please. I am explaining how important it is that you are all on your best behavior today. The Family is offering us a bounty. As you all know, they pay a great deal for this kind of work, and as you also know, it is never a simple task. Each of us will earn our keep today. The Family? Benno whispered to Hermann. The Everson Family, Hermann said, then returned his attention to Edda as if the answer was sufficient. So I ask that any malaise or other illness be dealt with promptly, Edda continued, glancing at Dante. And I especially insist that any interpersonal conflicts are left here. She looked at Helen, then at Rose. We cannot afford infighting, not in front of important clients. Is this clear? Yes, Edda, said Helen, her voice scratchy. Edda lifted a blue eyebrow at Rose. Were all good, boss. Rose gave a peace sign. Water under the bridge. A chuckle passed through the crew. Well see Edda sneered, then nodded briskly. Lets go. She lifted a palm, opening the Shenandoahs door. Wheres Ddoak? Benno asked as the crew began to board. They will not be joining us today, Edda said, something like distraction or annoyance laced in her words. Now please. She gestured for Benno to board. Benno lingered, fixing Edda with a look that she calmly and stoically returned. I preferred the beard, she said finally. Benno touched his smooth chin, then went ahead and boarded. # The Shenandoah darkened and whirred, and then golden light exploded into the bridge. Benno looked down through the transparent floor at a canopy of red, yellow and rust-colored forest sprawling below. Birds fluttered in the low light of a setting sun, which rested, a ball of fiery red, just against the crests of the autumnal trees. To the northor what Benno assumed was north given the position of the sunwas a ridge of giant, snow-capped mountains cast in a wash of late light. There was a lake directly ahead of the Shenandoah, its perfectly still water reflecting the orange wisps of the sky, and, wrapped along the lakes shore, an enormous mansion. It reminded Benno of the Overlook Hotel from The Shining: four stories tall, painted an ominous dark gray, with dozens of dark windows, a grandiose entrance, and a wide staircase that opened onto a great, leaf-speckled lawn on the side opposite the water. Its most prominent feature was the big pink neon sign suspended over the entrance, which flashed like a marquee along the Vegas Strip: THE EVERSON FAMILY MOTOR COMPANY The building reminded him of the Overlook, but the whole placethe woods and lake and mountainsalso reminded him of something else. Something he couldnt place but which stirred in him a deep, brief, and inexplicable sadness. The Shenandoahs dragonfly wings guided it over the middle of the lawn and lowered it silently onto the grass, kicking up a whorl of dead leaves. Edda swiped at the console, dimming the purple lights on the screen, and turned to face her crew. Remember, she said, her normal bravado subdued. I have longstanding, personal dealings with the Family. We are not to discuss any details pertaining to our work with or around them. So if you are not sure what to say, say nothing. Understood? Yes, Edda, the crew said in unison, Bennoto his own surpriseincluded. Edda lifted a hand, opening the doorway in the side of the Shenandoah, and led her crewall except Hermann, who remained by the consolesingle-file onto the lawn. # Benno craned his neck back to get a look at the mansions numerous windowsnot dozens but hundreds, he decidedand crenelated roof as they approached. Insects or birdsong sounded from the surrounding forest, but it was not like any Benno was familiar with: too-melodic trills, crisp, rapid clicks, machine-like buzzing, and the occasional deep, harmonious hum. A part of himthe same that had marveled at the awesome majesty of Forrorwished to dart away and explore this alien place. What kinds of creatures made these strange sounds? What sorts of creatures lurked in these autumnal woods? In a past lifenot as a science teacher doling out worksheets and reading rote from textbooks, but as a little boyBenno would have giddily scampered forth into the woods, to the edge of the lake, to make sense of the leaves and the water and, if he was lucky, an insect or bird. If I was still myself, Id want to understand, he thought. But that life was over. That boy was gone. Now, he was number four in a line of six inter-Realm miscreants, headed by a nine foot tall pirate queen, on their way to take up a bounty. Up ahead, a group of peoplefive that Benno countedemerged from the mansions entrance, too far away to make out their features. Eddas blue hair appeared dark purple in the low light as she led her crew forward, and her armor was a conglomeration of ochre and umber foliage, dark green grass, a pale, reddish sky, and the stark, pink flickering of the neon sign. These folks are freaky, Dante whispered to Benno. This is my third time here and it never gets easier. Freaky how? Benno whispered back. It seems quite beautiful here. Dante huffed. Not for long. The five people from the mansion arranged themselves at the bottom of the staircase. When Edda was thirty feet away she stopped, and her crew stopped behind her. Sad longs, Mother, Edda projected, bowing her head. We are here to help. One of the people stepped forward. A woman, easily as tall as Edda and appearing even taller with the black miter she wore, which tapered into a point with a small, red ball on its end. She wore black robesinlaid with red patterns like a Rorschachthat trailed behind her on the steps. Her face was deathly pale and her eyes were either smeared with black makeup or the skin around her eyes was naturally stained black. Her mouth was a thin, sunken line, her cheeks gaunt, her neck long and taut against the sinews of her throat. Shes a walking corpse, Benno thought, and then his teeth clenched at the sight of her long, gnarled black fingernails as she lifted a hand from the depths of her robe. Sad longs, Thirty-third Daughter of the Scattered King. The womans voice was dry and raspy like stone scraping glass. You and your crew have a labor ahead. [Part II - The Baba鈥檅a鈥檏sum] Chapter 11 - Fugitives Mother is coming, hissed a voice from the dark. Simon opened his eyes. Mother is coming to get me. Whos there? Simon raised his head off the mat. The cell was darkwindowlessand there was no way to know the time of day. It might have been a bright summer afternoon, or a dark winter morning. Prison was designed, Simon had come to learn, to shut the prisoner off from knowing. Get up, Simon. The voice gnashed its consonants. Something whined off in the folds of the prison. Simon drew his lips into the space between his teeth, to prevent himself from answering to a voice he knew did not actually exist. He was condemned by order of the statefor his own protectionto serve out his fourteen consecutive life sentences in solitary confinement. He was alone. For awhileseconds or minutesthere was only the damp silence to which Simon had grown so familiar. Then the voice spoke again. Get up, Simon. Mother is coming. Ive gone nuts, Simon said to what he knew was an empty cell. They had told him it would happenand of course it had. Brains needed other brains to work. Alone, a brain was only as healthy as a fire with nothing to burn. Simon sat up and rubbed his face. There was nothing to do but wait for the light in his cell to go on. There was no way to determine when this would happen. Sometimes it felt as if he sat in the dark for days on end. Mother is coming. There was an odor. Earthy. Meaty. Sick. Simon could not remember the last time they had allowed him to shower. Usually it did not bother him. But now, in the dark, the stink of his own filth was too much to bear. He thought of the victim impact statements at his sentencing, the parade of enraged, slobbering parents imploring the judge to condemn Simon Hausmann to rot in jail. Well, theyd gotten their wish. Here he was, literally rotting. Mother is coming, the voice hissed. Whose mother?! Simon outspread his hands in the dark, incredulous. The voice seemed to snicker. Everyones. Simon felt the familiar vapors of the Bad Mood gather at the back of his skull. He curled his toes and breathed his own putrid odor. I know you arent there, he said in the dark. My brains playing tricks on me. Ive been alone too long The long fluorescent light tube on the ceiling clicked and stuttered on. Simons eyes retreated against each flash, his pupils clenching, his eyelids fluttering. But in each frame, between the initial blink of light and involuntary shutting of his eyes, he saw something. A dark shape, there in his cell, suspended. Something in there with him. Four stubby legs dangled, paddling at the air as if treading water. Patches of matted, wiry hair sprouted from a stout, misshapen body, interspersed by sections of bare white flesh and, elsewhere, rents in the flesh where yellow bone peeked through. Knobby, withered tails traced oblong shapes, as if signaling some desperate, indecipherable message. Simon slid from his mat and onto the floor, gawping, his heart beating suddenly, violently, against his ribs. A creature. A monster. It looked like an organsome indistinguishable organleft sitting in the elements for many long days. It floated in his cell. It had eyesor rather eye socketsboth empty. Something like a snout snarled in either abject joy or indescribable pain. A flaky tongue jutted over a bank of brown teeth. Its gums were black. God Simon gasped, tasting the salt of his own fingertips as they flittered at his lips. Close. The organs mouth traced the delicate cadence of each word. What are you? Simon whispered. For now, the palm of your hand, said the organ. Then its mouth fell open and its body lurched forward and a sound like a branch snapping came from inside it. Its throat bulged, and something heavy slid from its mouthlike a mare birthing a foaland thudded to the floor, glistening in the fluorescent light. Simon, his hand trembling, reached out toward the thing on the floor. Mother is coming, said the organ. Mother Simon repeated. Shes coming to get us. A drill. An industrial drill with a gnarled bit like a jagged little hand. Briefly, the ceiling light flickered. What do I do with this? he asked. The organs bony tails curled off toward the cells gray, iron door. They wont just let me walk out of here. And I cant fight them off with a drill. Again the organ strained forward, and again something snapped, and another heavy object slid from its mouth and clacked onto the floor. Simon picked it up. It fit in his hand as if it had been made for him to hold. He opened the cylinder. Six gold circles winked at him. The organs empty eye sockets were full of darkness. We cannot let Mother catch us. No We must be prepared. Prepared Simon stood. More guns, he said. And a grenade. The organs jowls wrinkled at the edges, and its tail flexed. Now, it said, you are starting to understand. # Siddiq, turn up the volume, will ya? Lenny pointed to the TV mounted over the cash register. You have to do it manually, Siddiq said, whisking eggs with a plastic fork in a plastic bowl and pouring them onto the griddle. Lenny heaved himself out of his chair, his knees whining, and waddled to the TV. He fiddled with some buttons until the reporters voice swam into fruition. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. no indication yet of the fires cause. Residents reported hearing gunshots from the prison early this morning, though we have no corroboration yet from authorities on these reports. As you can see, the fire continues to burn through the bulk of the prison. Again, we have heard nothing from the prisons officials, though a spokesperson for the Governors office stated that the Wallkill Corrections Facility houses nearly four hundred inmates Would you look at this shit? Lenny said, returning to the table. Siddiq grunted. You want your tomato grilled this morning? Yeah. Lenny drummed his fingers along the rim of his coffee cup. Prisons got to be two hundred years old. Im honestly surprised it took so long for something like this to happen. The door chimed. Goddamn its cold. Steve entered, wiping his boots on the bristly doormat and rubbing his hands together vigorously. Take a look at this. Lenny gestured to the TV. Steve squinted at the screen. Holy Hell. He whistled. Look at the size of that fire Theyre gonna have to let the whole thing burn down. You think so? Oh sure. Doesnt look like theyre really fighting it. You want the regular, Steven? Siddiq asked from behind the counter. Yes, sir. Steve went to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup. News says they have four hundred inmates up there, Lenny said. Steve sat beside him. Sounds right. When I worked up there we had about three hundred, but I retired before they added the eastern wing. Lenny watched the aerial footage of flames engulfing two thirds of the old sprawling prison building. How do they get prisoners out of a burning building? he asked. It depends. Steve sipped his coffee, winced, then sipped again. In a situation like this? It doesnt look good. The door chimed again, and a pane of cold air wafted in. Lenny peeled his eyes from the TV. A young man stood on the doormat, blinking around. He was thin and short, with oily hair and patchy stubble. He wore an oversized coat that made him seem even smaller than he already was, and baggy orange pants with matching orange sandals over white socks. He couldnt have been more than thirty, though he wore a dazed look that made him appear much younger. Good morning, Siddiq called from the griddle without turning around. The young man shambled into the store, paused near the counter, then turned and shuffled off toward the beer cooler. Poor drunk, Lenny thought. Going right for the beer at he glanced at his watch. Not even six in the morning. Siddiq slapped a paper plate oozing with yolk onto the counter. Here you go, Lenny, he said. Yours is coming up, Steven. Let me get that for you, big guy. Steve stood, waving Lenny off as if Lenny was going to protest. Lenny watched the young man at the cooler. He stood close to the glass, nodding slowly, his eyes focused like someone receiving a set of detailed instructions. Anyway, said Steve, returning with Lennys sausage egg and cheese sandwich. Remember how yesterday I was telling you about the family across the street, always having their fiestas every Saturday and going on until three, four in the morning? Hm, Lenny grunted. The young man glanced at him before looking quickly away, and then whispered to himself, and nodded. Well yesterday afternoon I see a pickup truck pull up outside the house with speakersthose big tower speakers like they have at concertsthis high. Steve held up a hand over his head. Im not kidding. God knows what theyve got in store for this weekend. I should probably plan to go away The young man turned his palms up, as if to receive something from someone who wasnt there. He whispered again, too quiet for Lenny to hear. From the TV, an advertisement for sleep medication blared. Maybe Ill take Linda up to Mohonk. Steve took a swig of his coffee and grimaced. They have a spa there. A nice bar. Its not cheap, but nothing is. Hell even Siddiq charges six bucks for an egg sandwich The young man continued to hold his hands cupped in front of him. Lennys eyes flickered to a spot on the cooler, just above the young mans head, where momentarily the glass seemed to quiver, to refract the light strangely. When he looked back down, the young man was turning toward him holding a long, black object Gun! Lenny rolled off his chair and onto the floor, toppling the table. An enfilade of gunfire exploded through the coffee shop. In an instant, the air filled with dust and splintered wood and plastic. Steve dived to the floor, landing just next to the table. He looked up at Lenny, his eyes wide. The gunfire paused, and in the lull Steve scrambledpanickedtoward the door before Lenny could tell him not to. There was a flash of red, and the roar of gunfire resumed, and Steves body twisted and furled and shattered apart into chunks of flesh and clothing. Siddiq yelled something from behind the counter. Lenny curled his arms over his head, his back pressed to the fallen table, the coffee shop exploding around him. He had served in the Russia-NATO War, stationed in Turkey. He had seen heinous violence in his time, violence he had worked diligently for the last fifty-plus years to ablate from his memory. But now, crouched on the floor of the coffee shop in which hed spent every morning for two decades, a mile and a half down the road from his home, it all came rushing furiously back: The wet crack of gunfire and dual odors of gunpowder and methane, the screams of his friends and the unyielding procession of gore, of blood, of bloodless bodies. He laced his fingers together atop his head and prayed that someone would think to feed his dogs. The table rocked forward, and Lennys back seized with pain. Then the gunfire stopped. Lenny took heavy breaths. Something clattered to the floor behind him, and footsteps approached the table. He looked around for something, for a weapon. There, attached to the keychain on what had previously been Steves belt: a folding knife. It was small, maybe a few inches long, but it would have to do. Before he could think himself out of it he lungedbut the pain in his back twisted and shot up his spine, and his muscles clenched, and he crumpled there on the floor, all nearly three-hundred pounds of him. The footsteps stopped near his head, and Lenny craned, trembling, to look. The young man grinned down, his eyes glistening. Lennyhis lungs, like the rest of his body, crampingdrew a shaky line of air through his teeth in preparation to tell the little shit to go fuck his own mother or something of the like, the little punk-ass piece of shitbut before he could get a word out, a shape appeared in the air beside the young mans head. Lennys breath caught. His sight was not what it used to be, but it was hard to imagine how he might mis-see what he was seeing here. It was an organ. A giant fucking organ. It was rotten, with little hairs growing on it, its skin patchy, floating there and staring down at Lenny from two empty eye sockets. A smell like death and swamp gas gathered in Lennys nostrils. What the fuck, Lenny managed, spending all his breath, his heart palpitating. The organs snout wrinkled, and then moved with uncanny dexterity, as if speaking, though Lenny heard no words. A big knife, the young man said, holding out a hand, staring down at Lenny with his blank, childish expression. The floating organ gaggedan awful, brittle sound like a bone snappingand from its mouth slid the handle of a knife directly into the young mans waiting palm. The knifes blade was nearly a foot long. The young man dangled the knife blade-down over Lennys face. Mother will never catch us, he said. Lenny braced himself for death. He had imagined it a million ways, but this was not one of them. He clenched his eyes shut and thought about a girl hed met only once, when he was fifteen years old. The clang of pots and pans made him reopen his eyes. Siddiq rose up from behind the counter, his face and hair caked in gray dust, a revolver gripped in both hands. He leveled it at the piece of shit young man and roared as he pulled the triggerthen kept roaring as he unloaded the cylinder. Get him, Siddiq, Lenny thought. Red ripples appeared along the young mans right side where Siddiqs bullets shredded him to pieces Or at least thats how it appeared at first. But as Lenny watched from the floor, the knot of pain tightening in his back, his stomach turning, a terrible numb horror spread down his arms and legs as he registered what he was really seeing. The mar of red flesh to the mans right side was not his own. It was a sheet of viscera, a fleshy wall of innards where the organ-creature had spread itself open along its belly like a book and now shielded the young man from Siddiqs bullets. The entrail-shield absorbed every round, jiggling like mud, rendering each as harmless as a gnat. The organ-creatures head lolled off to one side, its empty eyes unfocused, its splayed body vibrating with each impact into its tangle of putrid flesh. The young man stood, safely concealed, smiling his despicable childish smile. Lenny had once had a nightmare in which he was lying on his back at the bottom of a shallow pit. Overhead, ruddy clouds churned through the sky. Though he could not see around the edge of the pit, he knew something was there, circling. Every moment he expected it to appear, to leer down at him, though it never did. That was the engine of the nightmares dread. This was what came into his mind now as he lay pinned to the floor with a knot of heat twisting through his back, as Siddiqs revolver clicked empty and the monster organ folded itself shut and resumed its original rotten shape. It floated beside the young man as he shuffled up to the counter with his long knife, exiting Lennys line of sight. A moment later Siddiqs voice rose up, calling out in Urdu, devolving into gibberish, pitching into screams, dying into silence Lenny prayed someone would think to feed his dogs. Again he closed his eyes. From over the counter, a commercial on the TV promised relief from sleeplessness. [Part II - The Baba鈥檅a鈥檏sum] Chapter 12 - The Bad Mood Mothers rotten yellow teeth glistened in the dying sunlight. One long black fingernail pointed off at an angle, held there long enough that Benno thought she might be trying to indicate something, though when he followed its direction he saw nothing but the ochre trees and a brace of small birds darting like bats. Behind Mother, four additional members of the Everson Family stood silently, staring out at Edda and her crew. They all had the same pale, sunken skin and corpse-like demeanors. One of them, a slender, hairless man with enormous hollow earlobes, licked the fat metal ring dangling from his septum with a forked tonguea gesture that struck Benno as compulsory. In one hand he carried a clear plastic bag filled with a dark, reddish fluid from which a tube traveled into the folds of his clothes. Another, a woman with numerous metal chokers fastened tightly around her neck, which elongated the neck to a shocking degree, had circular swatches of flesh excised from the diameter of her eye sockets, so that her eyeballs were permanently bared. The third and fourth appeared to be children, one in a dress and the other in a pantsuit, each with a metal cage locked over their head through which only their eyes and mouths were visible, and though at first it seemed they were holding hands, Benno discerned, with sickening alarm, that their hands were in fact sutured together with thick, black thread. We are prepared for whatever labor you set before us, said Edda, standing tall, her armor exhibiting the vibrant golds and reds of the surrounding forest. Mothers long finger remained extended. Tonights labor is different than labors past. Her voice scraped at Bennos ears. Tonights sad labor cannot afford to go incomplete. Thank you for trusting us with such a sad labor. Edda bowed again, continuing the formal exchange. Across from Mother, who was already taller than her with the miter and the added height of the stairs, Edda appeared almost small, which made Benno uneasy. One of our possessions has been misplaced, Mother said. Edda nodded slowly. We will retrieve it. Just tell us what it is we seek. Mother finally lowered her long finger, and her hand disappeared back into her robes. It is sadder to show you, she said. Edda looked up at the mansion, its pink neon sign flashing brighter as the sky darkened. Of course, Mother, she said. Mother nodded so minutely it may merely have been a trick of the dying light. She turned and started back up the stairs, the other four members of the Everson Family in tow. Edda looked back at her crew. Her normally striking eyes were muted and wary. Keep your guards up, they seemed to signal. Do not lose focus. There is danger here She started up the mansions steps, and her crew followed. # Immediately upon entering, Benno was struck by the stench of iron. He assumed it might have something to do with the enormous rusty gears churning from the vaulted ceiling, and as he looked closer at the gears thick teeth, grinding with staggering force, he suspected the stench might actually have something to do with the sheen of dark, black blood coating them. Would those kill me? Benno wondered. Or would my body snap them like dried twigs? Mother and the Family led Edda and her crew across the cavernous entrance chamber, their collective footwear producing a susurrus of damp echoes off the dark, rutted walls. The places aestheticthe bloody gears and sooty floorreminded Benno of what he considered the true aspect of the Hillstul Inn: beneath Gemmas manufactured facades were bare sooty floors and rutted walls the room in which Edda kept the Haruspex was proof of thisand the Coil, with its endless torrent of blood, would have fit perfectly with the rest of the Everson Familys decor. If fact, the more Benno thought about it the more striking the similarities appeared, until he was convinced that it was no coincidence. Whats Eddas relationship to these people? Benno whispered to Dante, who walked alongside him. Shh, Dante hissed before quickening his pace and leaving Benno behind. The Family led them through a wide doorway on the rooms opposite side and into another smaller room with no additional doors, where they stopped, turned, and waited. When everyone was inside, a metal gate clanged roughly shut across the doorway behind them, and a loud cranking sound started up overhead. The room shuddered and lurched, and then descended slowly for nearly a minute before landing with a thud and a groan. The gate rattled opened. They followed the Family down a dark, damp corridor carved out of the bedrock. There was another odor here, of dankness and dead plants. The walls glistened in the stuttering firelight of the infrequent torches mounted along the ceiling, and pale moss grew on the rounded section where the wall and ceiling met. Slimy water pooled in stagnant puddles on the silty ground, and thin white worms writhed in bundleslike spools of threadin the shallow water, which Benno weaved and danced to avoid crushing beneath his sneakers. The narrow corridor flared somewhat, allowing Eddas crew enough room to walk shoulder to shoulder, which they did as they approached the enclosures. Built directly into the rock, the enclosures were gated with thick, rusted iron bars so tightly lined they obscured the dark cells beyond. In the first was what appeared to be a manthough there was something strange about him Benno couldnt place, something off about his dimensionswearing dark clothes and staring silently out at the group as they passed. The next contained what Benno could only describe as a massive newt, its feet suctioned to the slick wall, its long tailpulsing with what appeared to be clumps of fungi that flickered faintly like dying fluorescencetrailing down the wall and across the ground. The top of its head erupted with dozens of black eyes, all of which reflected various parallaxes of the enclosures bars. The third contained another human-looking thing, except this one stood on its hands, its legs waving listlessly in the air, its face turned toward the back of the cage. As the Family and Eddas crew passed, the upside-down person scurried on its hands into the corner and pressed itself against the rock wall, where it cowered. The enclosures continued down the length of the corridorfive or six more that Benno could seebefore the corridor itself ended in a knot of darkness, in which, so barely perceptible it might have been merely a refraction of the torchlight, a pale shape stood. Mother stopped in front of the fourth enclosure, and the other members of the Family gathered around her. Edda approached the rusted bars and peered through, her crew standing by, everyone trying to get a look. It was empty. Edda took a slow breath and turned to Mother. Something escaped from your collection, she said. Not just something, Mother said, her gravely voice deepened by the acoustics of the damp cavern. A Bababaksum. Edda stiffened, and her eyes faltered. Male or female? she asked. A mature female. Edda closed her eyes, unable to conceal her dismay. Then she caught herself and recomposed. For how long has it been gone? Mothers sunken mouth twisted, and briefly Benno anticipated that she was going to smile, though the moment quickly passed. Long enough. We discovered its absence this morning, when our children came down to play with it. We acquired it for them, as a sad gift. Our Milky Baba, the two children with the cages on their heads said in perfect unison, their voices high and scratchy. I want my Milky Baba back. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Edda looked at Mother with an expression Benno couldnt read, her brow slightly furrowed, one dark green lip folded under her teeth. Mother looked back at her stolidly. If we do this, Edda said, dropping her volume and angling her body away from her crew. Given how you well understand the grave risk we are taking, I will ask you to consider, Mother, that this errand suffice in eradicating all arrears between us. Mothers gaunt eyes blinked slowly. All? Well Edda glanced self-consciously back at her crew and the rest of the Family. All capital arrears. There are others who do this sad work. None who will agree to confront a mature female Bababaksum. Mother raised her bony chin and blinked again, looking down her nose at Edda. Then, in a slow increment, her eyes slid over to Benno. A new adjutant. Benno looked at Edda, who appeared, nearly imperceptibly, to tense. You are Permanent. Mother said. Benno took a second with the statement, unsure what it meant. No, Edda interjected. Merely regenerative, just like the last one. Useful as a bulwark and nothing else. Mothers dark eyes bored into Benno as a long silence unfurled, so complete that Benno could hear Helens stomach rumbling from several feet away. Then she turned back to Edda. We can eradicate all capital arrears Edda exhaled. Thank you. upon the retrieval and return of this living Bababaksum. Of course. Edda bowed low. Though your noncapital arrears remain outstanding. The bricoleur stays here. Edda glanced down the length of the corridor, where the vague white shape stood. Understood. Thank you. Only because we are kin, Heart of Horus. Eddas eyes faltered. Of course, she repeated, more subdued. Thank you, Mother. She bowed again, then turned toward her crew. Lets get back to the Shenandoah. Maybe we can locate it before it takes a host, and intercept its escape. If we hurry Mothers long, black-tipped fingers appeared from beneath her robes, cutting Edda off mid-sentence. This particular Bababaksum is dogged, she said. It has most likely found a host already. # If Mother catches us, she will make us do things we dont want to do Simon repeated. Repeating things helped him lock them in his mind. Sometimes, when people spoke, their words bounced off his head. When he repeated words, though, the words came in through his mouth, and entered his brain. Terrible things The woman driving the car glanced at him in the rearview mirror. The cars headlights rushed along the dark road, revealing the blur of falling snow. Mother kept us locked in a cage, the Bababaksum said, suspended over the backseat, its misshapen body cramped against the roof of the car. Its spindly legs pawed the air over the baby in the child seat, little flakes of its rotten flesh occasionally coming free and landing on the babys face. Simon diligently wiped the flakes from the babys eyes with a towel. The baby blinked and mewled and groped for the Bababaksum. Mother abhors freedom. Abhors Simon repeated. He didnt know that word, but he stored it anyway. Mothers many children have taken after her hatred. They love to bring us pain. And they are everywhere. It is not enough simply to evade Mother. We must discipline her children too. In the usual ways. Discipline them Please The woman in the drivers seat said, her voice thin. Please, you can have the car. You can have everything. Just let us go. Here, in the middle of the road. You can have everything. Just let us go. Let my son go. Simon prodded the womans ear with his gun. I cant hear when youre talking, he said. Hear what? The womans frightened eyes roamed the rearview. Simon exhaled and rubbed his face as the vapors of the Bad Mood gathered at the back of his head. His face felt big in his hand. If we can discipline Mothers children correctly, the Bababaksum continued, they will learn our ways, and serve us instead. They will become our children, and grow to inherit our world. This is the way. The car slowed. Simon looked up. Brake lights flashed from the side of the dark road ahead. Whats that? he asked. I dont know, said the woman. A stopped car. Go around. Simon lowered himself into the pit between the backseat and the front, then leveled his gun at the child seat. Ill go around. Ill go around. The woman accelerating as they approached the car on the roads shoulder. A figure was hunched beside it in the snow. As they passed, the figurea manstood and waved both arms over his head. Simon crouched lower, wedging the guns muzzle into the babys belly. The baby coughed. Keep going, he said. They drove off. Simon peered out through the back windshield, where the man in the snow stood, now in the middle of the road, his arms outspread. Without her children, Mother is nothing. She will be left with nothing. With nothing Simon repeated. He wiped flakes of putrid flesh from the babys eyes. What are you doing to him? the woman asked, her hands clenching the steering wheel so firmly that her knuckles whined. Im cleaning his eyes, said Simon, pursing his lips as the Bad Mood rose up his spine. Please, the woman implored. Please dont hurt him. Simon ignored her. Continue, he said to the Bababaksum. Mother will not catch us. She wont? Simon looked up, the Bad Mood lessening. Not if we discipline her children in the usual ways. You are perfect for this. Im perfect? Simons eyes filled with tears. Please, the woman whined. Dont hurt us The Bad Mood crept back up Simons neck. You are perfect, Simon, the Bababaksum said. You are Mothers Bane. Simon wiped his eyes, then wiped the babys eyes. I cant wait to discipline her children, he said, fighting the Bad Mood back down. Ive done it before. I disciplined fourteen of them. It was a long time ago, but I think I remember how. Yes. The Bababaksums flaky tongue slid along the crest of its rotten lips. This is why I chose you. Oh. Simon smiled. Who are you talking to?! the woman wailed. Shut up!!! Simon fired his gun through the backseat window. The explosion was sharp and instantly deafening. The window crumbled and cold, dark snow rushed into the car. Simon covered his ears to stifle the ringing. But the ringing was coming from inside him. The vapors of the Bad Mood ballooned in his throat and mouth and leaked into his skull. He grimaced and curled his feet and waited for the ringing to pass. Slowly, it didbut there was another ringing now. The baby wailing in its car seat. Its stubby arms and legs punched the air. Its shrill voice pitched up and Simon could do nothing to stop the Bad Mood from billowing and widening into his brain. Be quiet, he said through gritted teeth. The baby screamed louder. Be quiet! Simon wiped the babys eyes with the towel. Black snow roared into the car. Please! the woman cried over the wind. Please! Please! Simon reached into the child seat and unfastened the buckles. Be quiet now! he said, lifting the baby out and covering its face with the towel. Please please please! The woman was half-turned in her seat, the car hurdling down the icy road. The baby shrieked and tugged the towel free. Its screeching voice went directly into Simons mouth and up into his brain, where the Bad Mood flared and sharpened. Please, God! the woman shrieked like the baby. Please dont hurt him! The Bad Mood burned and thrashed into Simons bones. Its one of Mothers children, said the Bababaksum. An ugly little monster. Be quiet you ugly monster! Simon pressed his hand over the babys mouth, but its screams only grew louder. Stop! the woman reached back and grasped for the baby, her fingernails scraping Simons forearm. The car lurched violently to the right. It wont listen, the Bababaksum hissed. You wont listen! Simon held the baby by its neck away from the womans flailing hand. The baby gurgled and screamed. Discipline it. The Bad Mood tore at Simons heart and lungs. Discipline it now. Simon flung the baby out the broken rear window, and the rushing darkness swallowed its ugly screaming away. Then, for a moment, there was silence. Naarrrrgh!!! The womans eyes bulged in the rearview as she jerked the steering wheel violently sideways. The car seemed to stop, and then to resume at the same speed but upward, and Simon lifted from his seat, suddenly weightless. Briefly everything stoppedeven the roar of the windand Simon felt the Bad Mood vacate his bones and settle back in his throat. Then there was a flash of light, and a BOOM, and Simon went hurtling toward the windshield face-first with all the momentum of the cars speed. But before he struck it, there was sudden darkness, and another silencethis one heavier, wetter than the lastand he felt soft warmth surrounding him. He was still. The Bad Mood dissolved from his bones and faded back into nonexistence, or wherever it resided. He felt like he was floating in a warm, fleshy pool. For some period of time there was nothing but this. Simon thought he could be here forever. He had grown used to sitting in darkness, back in his cell. Only this darkness felt safe, and soft, and he did not feel trapped. He felt protected. Then there was a seam in the darkness, and cold air came in, and Simon was standing in the middle of the road. To his left, the caror what had been the carwas wrinkled into a ball of burning metal. Black smoke spewed, and snow turned and danced in the shaft of light cast by the flames. The Bababaksum floated beside him. Mother cannot be allowed to catch us, it said. Simon pulled his coat shut and started along the road. He realized that at some point he had lost his gun. No matter. There were more guns, more than he would ever need. The Bababaksum would provide. The Bababaksum was his friend. Together, they would discipline Mothers children in the usual ways. Mother cannot be allowed to catch us, he said. Behind him, the car burned, casting his tall shadow ahead, and tresses of snow whipped back into the light, as if lured by the fire. [Part II - The Baba鈥檅a鈥檏sum] Chapter 13 - A Kind of Sorrow So what is this thing? Night had fallen across the forest and the lake. The Everson Family Motor Companys pink neon sign blinked, advertising itself to the trees and the dark sky. Edda stood at the Shenandoah''s console, her long fingers tracing busy shapes on the panel. Hermann sat beside her, an old hand stroking an old chin, his eyes creased and reflecting the screens purple light. Isaac sat at the table, taping his hands with layers of white tape, deep in concentration. Helen paced back and forth across the bridge, her arms stiff at her sides, taking slow breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. Dante leaned against the wall by the hallway, his eyes closed, his arms crossed and his head down. Rose, standing near Benno with her headphones over her ears, hocked up a loogie from deep in her lungs, wrinkled her nose, and swallowed it. Bennos question went ignored. Hello? He outspread his arms. Can someone fill me in? Might it have returned to its Realm of origin? Hermann asked. Doubtful, said Edda. Juvenile Bababaksum leave for pilgrimage soon after propagation and never return to the Tunnel of Towers. They have no sentimentality to that place. No, it will have fled elsewhere. Someplace innocuous, middling. Someplace it can feed without competition So what should we be looking for? For now, ionizing radiation. Edda traced a pink fingernail across a row of triangles. Assuming it has taken a host, the Bababaksum will be shedding radiation at levels we can register even from here. Though the real confirmation will come from the rhizomatic signature left by its entrance into the Realm There, said Hermann, pointing to a triangle on the consoles screen. G1B139.27. Edda recited the Realm code as she spread her hand over the triangle, which expanded until it filled up the screen. The upside-down triangle inside of it teemed with columns of data. That is quite a bit of radiation for a Schema D Realm, Hermann said. Edda scrolled quickly through the data. I think youve done it, she said. Something entered the Realm in the last twelve hours with a tremendous amount of force. This far exceeds typical rhizomatic signatureseven for inter-Realm vessels, which this Realm does not appear to possess. She swiped the triangle aside, revealing yet another set of data. Hermann wrung his wrinkly hands. Well that was easy, he said, then looked up at Edda. Are we certain we should be attempting this without Ddoak? The Family will be watching us, Edda said quietly. Hermanns dry lips wrung into a knot. But what if We can do this, Edda interrupted. There is no need for Ddoak today. Of course, of course. Hermann fidgeted. All we must do is capture a hosted Bababaksum. A female. A mature female. One that has been enslaved and is likely starving. And is no doubt making quick work of this Schema D Realm Hey! Benno clapped twice, the same method he used to use to get the attention of his students. Everyone turned and looked at him. Since I have a feeling youre gonna need me again on this one, the least you can do is take two seconds to explain what this thing is. Edda waved away the data on the console. Bababaksum are violent and vile creatures that feed on anguish. I have encountered several in my life, and captured one, but it was a neutered male juvenilearguably the most benign classification of the species. Yet it still managed to wreak havoc on one of my sisters outposts. Our bounty today is a mature female, unarguably the most dangerous classification. Frankly, I think the Everson Family is foolish to keep onebut that is their prerogative. Our only concern is to retrieve it, and profit. Profit and debt relief arent exactly the same thing, Benno said. Edda fought a sneer as she brought up a new screen on the console. Not that its your business, but the debt I owe the Family accounts for more than half of my total debt. With this relief, I have taken you a great step closer to the Gardens. So please leave your derision behind. Benno glanced around at the crew, who averted their eyes. There was a general melancholy on the bridge, he decided. Whether it had to do with the nature of this errand, the nature of the Everson Familys Realm, or some other factor, Benno couldnt tell. But it was palpable. He felt it too. A kind of sorrow. Different than the crippling depression that had gripped him for seven years. It was more wistful. More nostalgic. Like the end of summer. Or a rainy day. Sorrow. There was nothing else to call it. By the way, Benno said. Permanent? Regenerative? Just like the last one? What was that about? Hermann shifted in his wheelchair and looked at Edda. Sometimes Mother speaks in riddles, Edda said, her voice betraying nothing. Benno could relate, and tried for one last question. Is Mother your mother? Edda exhaled briskly. No, she said. But she was one of my fathers wives. One of many, many wives. She turned to her crew. You all understand what is at stake here. There is nothing I can say that you dont already know. Today you will earn your keep, and your share in our destiny. She took a moment to look from one member of her crew to the next. I have nothing but faith in each of you. That is why youre here. Now. Are you prepared for this battle? Yes, Edda, the crew said in perfect tandem. Edda brought up another screen on the console and tapped an icon. Music started. Familiar music. I call you when I need you, my hearts on fire You come to me, come to me wild and wild Benno lifted an eyebrow. Tina Turner? Edda turned, her eyes fiery. Do you have a problem with Tina Turner? Benno held up his hands. No. Of course not. Shes simply the best. Isaac tapped his foot to the beat. Dantes lips traced the lyrics silently. Helen snapped her fingers and shuffled her sandaled feet. Hermann hummed, a half-note out of tune. Rose stood with her arms crossed, a bored scowl on her face, until, as the refrain started, she clapped her hands once, raised a tattooed arm over her head, and belted at the top of her lungs. Youre simply the best! The crew sang. Better than all the rest! The vessel went dark. # The Shenandoah hovered over a small town of red brick buildings carpeted in a layer of fresh snow. White smoke rose lazily from chimneys into the overcast sky. Cars parked along roadsides and in driveways had yet to be dug out. There was a water tower, a 7-11, an old mill on the outskirts, a large white building at the end of the towns main street that was either the Town Hall or the local library. It could have been late morning or early afternoon. It looks like my home, Benno said, gazing down through the bridges transparent floor. Or rather my Realm. My Realm of Origin. It isnt, Edda said, terse, tracing shapes on the console. Its there, Hermann said, his eyes closed tightly, one hand tented over his forehead and the other angled ahead at the large white building. Inside. But its It must be erecting some kind of interference. I cannot tell what its doing Edda drummed her fingers on the console. Helen, she said, turning. Do you feel this interference as well? Not from here, Helen said. But I wont know for sure until someones down there. Its not anticipating short-range combat, Edda said half to herself. Its failure of imagination will be its downfall. She turned to Benno. Are you ready? Benno shrugged. What did you guys do before I showed up? A conspicuous ripple of discomfort passed through the crew. Edda turned swiftly to the console. Your job is simple: Get a look inside that building. We need reconnaissance on the Bababaksums host in order to separate one from the other. Until we do that, the Bababaksum is essentially as ineradicable as you. Benno turned this over in his head. As ineradicable as you Once youre down there, Edda went on. I advise you to do everything in your power to remain undetected. Or what? Benno asked. Itll kill me? A strand of Eddas blue hair slid off her shoulder. Not you. Benno looked at the crew, meeting all five pairs of eyes. Understood, he said, then looked down through the transparent floor at the snowy road three hundred feet below. So, should I just jump again? Use Gemma, Edda said. Its far more becoming. # The town was quiet. Too quiet, Benno thought, and then nearly rolled his eyes. There was no one on the streets, no one in the shop fronts, cafes or restaurant, and no cars on the road. If it werent for the smoke rising from the smattering of chimneys, Benno might assume it was deserted long ago. He shuffled down the sidewalk, his sneakers scrrrching in the unmarred snow. He could parse each footfall: Stepcrushscrrrch. A wide, airy moment. Accessible. Honest. Nothing like the ferocious lie of a gunshot. Stepcrushscrrrch. Stepcrushscrrrch. A gentle reminder of the intervals hidden everywhere. Forty feet from the white buildings entrance was a sign: Middle Forest Public Library, and, beneath that, All Are Welcome Here followed by a pride flag. Benno wondered how this Realm could be any other than his own. Everything about it was familiar. Hed grown up in a town just like this one. Hed been to dozensmaybe hundredsof towns that were, in every way that mattered, identical. It raised a slew of questions about the Realms and how they related to one another, how they overlapped and how they conformed. Forror had felt so foreign. The Everson Familys Realm, and the Hillstul Inns Realm, were so strange. And yet, in essence, werent there more similarities than differences? There were trees, there was grass. There was air that Benno could breathenot that he needed it. And this Realm, with its red brick buildings and quaint storefronts and snowy streets, its public library and the slate of white clouds in the sky Often our iterations entangle with one anothers through space and time, the Haruspex had said. Benno considered that this referred to more than merely people. Material itselfthe way things manifested within the Ensembleseemed to have a preference. The Haruspex had also said: I dont know why. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Bennos reverie was interrupted as he neared the library. There were sounds from inside. Gut-wrenching screams. He held the Gemstoke to his lips and pressed his thumb to it. I hear people, he said. Screaming from the library. We need to see inside, Eddas voice came through the Gemstoke. Benno veered left away from the librarys entrance and circled around the side of the building. There were windows along the first floor, six feet or so off the ground. He crept to one, stretched up onto his tiptoes, and peered inside. Rows of bookshelves and a line of unoccupied desks against the wall. Nothing unusual in the slightest. Just a small town library Except, protruding from behind one of the bookshelves, shoeless and bloodied and perfectly still, was someones foot. Benno crept to the next window. There were peoplefifty, maybe moregathered together on the floor where a few tables had been toppled and pushed aside. Men, women and children, all ages and types, people who looked just like people Benno had known his whole life. Some knelt, others sat flat. Many wept. All were distressed. One woman, her back to the window, clutched something to her chest as she rocked back and forth, screaming and sobbing. The rest watchedor deliberately avoided looking atsomeone or something beyond the shelves that Benno could not see from his angle. He hurried to the next window. A young man. Late twenties or early thirties, scrawny with oily hair and patchy stubble. His face twisted with rage as he yelled at the townspeople, his words muffled from Benno by the librarys thick walls. He wore an orange jumpsuitprison clothesand held two AR15s, one in each hand. Benno raised the Gemstoke to his lips. I dont see any Baba whatever, he said. But theres a man Dont bother, Eddas voice came through. Helen is incoming. Before Benno could respond, his fingers and toes went numb, and his vision swam, and the library dissolved before his eyes. Then he was looking instead at Edda and Hermann at the console on the bridge of the Shenandoah. Wha he started, but no sound came out of his mouth, and as his eyes wandered down he was shockedand disturbedto find himself wearing a NASCAR sweater. Tell me, Edda said to Bennoor not Benno. Five-nine, maybe one-thirty brown hair brown eyes pale complexion, Helen rattled off from the mouth below Bennos eyes, which made his head spin. Edda tapped swiftly at the console. Birthmark on right index knuckle oval scar on neck right side maybe half-hearted suicide attempt eight or nine years ago Wallkill Correctional Facility jumpsuit but no visible ID number hold on yeah missing front canine As she listed off the hosts qualitiesand despite how profoundly he abhorred the sensation of switching perspectives with herBenno nonetheless appreciated why Edda had Helen report these details instead of him: It would have taken Benno ten minutes to notice everything Helen had listed in ten seconds. Here he is, Hermann said, tapping a symbol on the screen, which opened up another screen filled with additional gibberish. Simon Hausmann. A convicted mass murderer in this Realm. Suicide attempt at age twenty-two. Was institutionalized. Reported to doctors that his mother had sexually abused him. Two years after discharge he murdered his mother before driving to the elementary school where she worked. There he gunned down eleven of her students and two teachers. Now serving fourteen consecutive life sentencesor at least he was until last night. Hermann looked up at Edda. A perfect host for a Bababaksum. Angry, malleable and wounded. Edda swiped through the screen. Dante. Any ideas? I think I can put something together, Dante said. Prepare it. Edda turned to the crew. Isaac, you will be on standby to dispose of the host the moment he is separated from the Bababaksum. Rose, block yourself to us now in the event the Bababaksum attempts to take one of us as its next host. Benno glanced over from Helens eyes toward where Edda was looking. Something moved at the mouth of the hallway leading from the bridge, but it was just a trick of the light, and there was nothing and no one there. Hermann, Edda went on, maintain our escape locus coordinates for a quick Yikes, Helens mouth interrupted. Its getting nasty down here. Then Benno was back in his own body, looking out through his own bleary and disoriented eyes into the library. Gunfire brought him back to his senses: The hostSimon Hausmannfired indiscriminately with both guns into the crowd of townspeople. The people shrieked and tried to flee. Parents threw themselves over their children. A few tried to scramble beneath desks or behind shelves. But the bullets tore through everything. A mist of blood rose into the air. Benno clutched the bars over the window. A pair of children, cowering beside the bullet-riddled bodies of their caretakers, cried out in unison, their voices swallowed up first by the relentless gunfire and then silenced by the pointblank gunshots to their respective heads. An older woman, still clutching a stack of books to her chest, attempted to scamper around Simon as he fired in the other direction. But he saw her, and swung, and shot her through the back so many times that her intestines spilled out of her stomach as she fell forward. A man around Bennos age, with the intrepid determination of a father whose children were in danger, rushed forward, poised to tackle Simon from behind. But Simon tilted his head up, as if someone was speaking to him from the air, and turned before the man could close the gap. The powerful rifles turned the mans head and neck into sludge. Amidst it all, stricken paralyzed in the middle of the room mere yards from Simon Hausmann, a woman held a boy in her arms. Her long, dark hair fell like a curtain around his face. She looked off at an angle from desperate eyes, clutching her son so tightly to her body it was as if she was trying to pull him back into her, where it was safe and quiet. Bennos heart thudded. It wasnt them. And yet it could have been So what are you gonna do, creep? asked the man with the macerated face, kneeling beside Benno against the librarys outer wall. His boots, flecked with ice, scrrrched in the snow as he shifted his weight. Benno breathed through gritted teeth, his face pressed against the bars. Pretty shit way to go, the man said from the pulpy mess of his mouth. Too bad theres no one around to save them. Irdum berst redup, said the Forrorian with the shredded jaw on Bennos other side. Ecktam berst esh. Alluserf lus dagda, said the second Forrorian, standing next to the first, from the stub of its smashed head. Furry little bitches make a good point, Jason said from his mangled face, then laughed a wet, wheezy laugh. What kind of man stands by and lets something like this happen? The bars whined under the force of Bennos grasp. The woman with the dark hair had closed her eyes. Her lips moved, her hand shielding the boys head. Simon Hausmann loaded new magazines into his rifles. Hes more deranged than I anticipated, Eddas voice came through the Gemstoke. Dante, now would be a good time to Im going in, Benno said, releasing the bars and sprinting back toward the librarys entrance. Dont you dare! Eddas voice commanded. Benno shoved the Gemstoke into his pocket, then skidded on the ice as he rounded the side of the building. Dont beef it up in there, now, Jason Rogers said, standing at the top of the stairs as Benno flew past him and crashed through the librarys door, shattering the metal chairs propped against it as a barricade. Embidurm muth, said the Forrorian with the missing jaw, who stood in front of a poster of Toni Morrison. Misda shen muth, agreed the headless Forrorian, sitting atop the reception desk. The gunfire rattled to a ceaseless pitch as Benno charged down the hallway deeper into the library. He passed a low shelf of magazines splattered with blood, and nearly tripped over a body strewn on the floor, its arms draped over its face, its clothes stained red. The librarys main room opened off a doorway on the hallways left side. Benno slowed as he entered, his hands raised as if to intercept an attack. The gunfire roared maniacally from around a length of bookshelves directly ahead, screams and pleas obscured by the relentless BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG. Benno swung around the shelf. Simon Hausmann fired mindlessly into the crowd of townspeople, all huddled together against the rooms far wall. There was nowhere else for them to go. Bullets plunged, blood spraying and bodies crumbling. The woman with dark hair stood near a pile of toppled books just a few feet from Simon Hausmann. She held the boy tightly to her. She and the boy watched Benno calmly. The gunfire stopped, and more spent magazines clattered to the floor. The handful of surviving townspeople, groaning and weeping, attempted to haul and push their way from the pile of bodies, desperate to seize the brief chance they had. Simon inserted two fresh magazineswhich hed pulled seemingly from nowhereand leveled the rifles. Hey! Benno shouted. Simon spun around, his guns already firing. The line of fire carved a wide arc through the air before homing in on Benno. Benno squinted his eyes reflexively, and angled his face away as bullets thwacked the length of his body. His shirt popped and billowed. He thought about the sound of the hail drumming on the roof of his trailer. He thought about the distances between things. FlashcontactBANG. FlashcontactBANG. Chunks of lead ricocheted and impacted the librarys walls. Spent casings clanked on the floor. Behind Simon, the surviving townspeople were making progress escaping from the pile of bodies. A mother shoved her daughter free, and gestured wildly for her to run while she continued to pull herself out. A man dragged a body off another, wounded man, and helped him to his feet. The dead greatly outnumbered the survivors, but if even a few could escape, it was better than nothing. It was better than if Benno had done nothing. Just focus on me, Benno thought, peering up at Simon and his flashing muzzles. Simons knuckles whitened and the tendons in his wrists flexed as he squeezed the triggers faster and harder. His furious expression faltered, and his eyes creased with bewilderment, and as his magazines emptied, his mouth fell open. The woman and the boy remained standing near the toppled books, just beside Simon Hausmann, watching Benno with faint, sad smiles. Benno sighed and brushed at the dozens of holes in his shirt. This was brand new, he said. You know how hard it is to find a t-shirt that fits? Simon bared his teeth, his eyes agape with disbelief, rage twitching at his lips. He dropped the AR-15s to the floor and held out both hands in front of him, as if offering an oblation. Then the air over Simon shimmered, and there was a soundfaint but unmistakableof a branch snapping, and Simon stumbled under the weight of a hulking M2 Browning machine gun that fell from nowhere and landed in his outspread hands. A belt of .50 caliber bullets dangled from the breech. Simon staggered as he hefted it onto his shoulder and glared down the barrel. Behind him, the surviving townspeople rushed for the exit. Just focus on me. Benno placed a hand over his crotch. Simon roared as he squeezed the trigger. Fire spat from the muzzle as the gun thundered a barrage of bullets, showering Benno in tendrils of smoke and shards of splintered metal. His shirt ignited and burned away like paper. He scooped the Gemstoke from his pocket and clutched it in his fist as his pants shredded. There was no pain. Just focus on me Simon Hausmann shook with the ferocious force of the M2, his hair bouncing, his feet stammering backwards in little half-steps. The belt of bullets whipped from the breech as the action chewed through ammo until there was nothing left, and the gun clicked. Smoke rose from the red-hot muzzle. Simon squinted through the whorling cloud of dust. Benno lowered his hand from his crotch, where only a section of his tattered underwear remained. You owe me a new outfit, he said. Simon dropped the M2 to the floor, his brow creased low over his dark eyes. He trembled visiblyeither from fear or from the residual tremor of the machine gunas he stared at Benno, his mouth moving silently. The last of the surviving townspeople had fled. In the distance, the sound of sirens approached. The woman with dark hair and the boy smiled softly. Its over, alright? Benno said, taking a step toward Simon. Simons shoulders slumped, and he turned slowly away. I have some friendswell, colleagues acquaintances I dont knowwho are gonna come in now and do whatever theyre gonna do. Benno took another step. If you want to live through this next part, I suggest you just take it easy. No more guns. Okay? Simons back heaved, and Benno assumed he was crying. Now Im sure the folks in this Realm wont be too happy with you after all this. Benno gestured around at the devastated library. But how they handle that is up to them. Me and my whatever We just need the thing youre with. The Baba thing. Benno raised the Gemstoke to his lips. Alright, Edda. Whatever you all have planned, now would be the time. Simon raised his face toward the ceiling. The Gemstoke was silent. Benno pressed his thumb harder. Edda? You there? As silent and inert as a rock. Again the air over Simon shimmered and warped, and again there was a cracking sound. Something long and heavy thudded to the floor. It was dark gray, and Bennos first thought was that it looked like a coffin. One end tapered into a point, and there were stubby metal fins attached, and a symbol printed on its body in yellow paint. A familiar symbol Edda Benno said again, the Gemstoke nowhere near his mouth. Simon Hausmann turned around, his dark eyes coruscating with rage. In one hand he held a small box, like an old TV remote, with a single yellow button. Looks like you beefed it up, creep, Jason Rogers said in Bennos ear. Simons thumb found the button, and a red light blinked on the side of the coffin. A moment later he was enfolded in a cocoon of pulsing flesh. The woman with the dark hair held the boys head against her waistas if to hold it togetherand smiled softly. Then there was a blinding flash, and everything shattered. [Part II - The Baba鈥檅a鈥檏sum] Chapter 14 - Filthy Little Animals Simon smiled at the desolation. When he was a little boy, he used to daydream about touching things and turning them into ash. Tree? Ash. School desk? Ash. Neighbors mean dog? Ash. Teacher? Bullies? His Momma? Ash. Ash. Ash. It was a silly childhood fantasy, one hed outgrown when faced with the ugly head of reality and its terrible rules. Mostly. There was a part of him that always held onto it. There was a part of him that just knew it wasnt a fantasy, that it was in his power. It was the same part that drove him to steal the guns from his uncles safe all those years ago. The same part that drove him to use those guns on his mother and all those children she loved more than him. Hed wanted to turn them to ash. He knew he could turn them to ash. Of course they hadnt turned to ash. Theyd turned to leaking wounds and twisted limbs. It wasnt what hed wanted. But now What the Bababaksumhis friendhelped him do to this town This was what hed wanted. This was what hed always wanted. Ash. For as far as he could see: charred, smoldering ash. Where the bookshelves had been were now mounds of ash. Where the librarys walls had been were now piles of ash. Where the houses of this stupid little town had stood were now hills of ash. Even the sky swirled with palls of gray ash beneath an enormous plume of black ash that blotted out the sun. Little fires burned. Heat radiated from the air itself. Simon stood amidst it, unharmed. It was in his power. It always had been. Mothers children have been disciplined in the usual ways, the Bababaksum said. Yes, Simon agreed. But there are more. We must find them. We must We must continue our reign of discipline. Our reign Simon squinted at a peculiar pillar of ash ten yards away. It was roughly man-sized, and roughly man-shaped. It stood out against the otherwise leveled landscape. Mother will start to abandon hope, the Bababaksum said. As her children serve us, she is left with nothing. The pillar of ash was weird. Simon admitted that. It was weird that it was there at all. It was weird that it was shaped like a person. It was weird that it was Moving. Let us leave her with nothing. The pillar started to dust itself off. Clumps of ash broke free and fell from it, revealing flesh beneath. Intact flesh. Healthy flesh. And a plain face. The man from the library. The plain man whofor some reasonhadnt leaked and twisted from Simons bullets. He wiped ash from his head and body, and shook his shoulders in a way that reminded Simon of a wet dog shaking out his coat. Then he stood there, completely naked, looking at Simon from plain eyes. Unharmed. What do I do? Simon asked, his voice cracking, and when the Bababaksum did not respond he looked over, expecting it to be lurching forward, its throat bulging, some magnificent weapon emerging from its mouth, a weapon that would strike this plain, naked man to ash. But the Bababaksum was not lurching. It floated there, staring at the plain man from its empty eyes, its brittle lips twisted into some kind of alarm. We should go from here, it said. Simon wrinkled his nose. He and the Bababaksum were unstoppable. Together they had no one to fear. They didnt need to run. Simon never had to run from anyone ever again. Why? he asked. Mother the Bababaksum said. It is Mother The naked man, now holding a glass of whiskey to his lips, looked back at Simon over the rim. Simon frowned. Thats Mother? The Bababaksum said nothing. The vapors of the Bad Mood crept up Simons spine. He stepped toward Mother. Im not afraid of you! he said, his voice cracking again. Ill never go back in a cage! Mother dropped his empty glass, which vanished before hitting the charred ground. Yeah I think youre probably right about that, he said in his plain voice. Simon turned on the Bababaksum. Give me something! he shouted, holding out his hands. Give me something to kill it with! But the Bababaksum was not at Simons side. It was overheadten, twenty, thirty feetits pointy tails twitching, floating away from Simon. It was abandoning him. Where are you going?! Simon shrieked. The Bababaksums empty eyes looked down the length of its shriveled snout with something like pity and derision. No! Simon reached upward, willing his arms to lengthen, to seize the Bababaksum and pull him back. The Bad Mood widened in his head, straining his skull. No! You filthy little animal, said a voice then that Simon knew more intimately than any sound on earth. He looked over. Something moved behind Mothers naked body. A shape emerging from the swirling ash. Even its silhouette was unmistakable, and as it neared, materializing as if from the thick air itself, Simons breath caught in his throat. How he whispered. A filthy little animal in need of a good cleaning, she said, leveling one finger at Simon and fidgeting with the tie on her bathrobe with the other. Simons lip quivered. Momma? Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Get in the bath, Momma hissed, stepping over charred mounds of ash with her bare feet. Get in the bath so we can clean your filthy little animal parts. The Bad Mood deflated and retreated into Simons bones. In its place, the Big Badness crackled up into his teeth and sucked up all his saliva. I dont need to take a bath, Momma, Simon said. I already took a bath today. Youre filthy! Momma seethed. Peepeeing yourself at night. Playing with those dead mice. Filthy! Inside and out! No, Momma Thats why your father left. Momma stomped toward Simon, though she grew no closer. Because you cant control your peepees and you like to play with dead mice and you spy on your own Momma when shes naked. A filthy little animal! I dont Is this what you want? Momma pulled her robe aside, exposing a sagging, veiny breast. Is this what the filthy little animal wants to see? Simon sobbed. No, Momma! Its detached! shouted a womans voice from somewhere nearby that Simon didnt recognize. Now, Isaac! There was movement to Simons left, but he didnt bother to look. He glowered at his Momma. He could hear the bath running in the other room. He could smell the soapthe nauseating soap in the yellow bottle she forced him to use, that burned his skin. He hated baths. He hated his Momma. If only he could stop her. If only he could turn her to ash. But there was nothing he could do. He was only a little boy. A little boy filled with a Big Badness bigger than his little body could contain. Excuse me, buhbuddy. Someone tapped Simons shoulder. Simon looked over at a man with slicked-back hair, wearing a tracksuit, with a gold necklace peeking out from the collar. Simon blinked. Yes? The man raised a palm, as if to offer Simon a high-five. Simon looked at the palm. In that moment, despite his filthiness, despite the Big Badness sucking up all the liquid in his bodydespite even the imminent bathSimon felt a tinge of gratitude. Whoever this man was, with his oily hair and gold necklace, he was offering Simon a gesture. He was offering him a sliver of kindness. A high-five said a lot. It said: I see you. It said: Good job. It said: If just for this moment, were friends. Simon had never really had any friends. The Bababaksum was the closest thing to that hed ever experience, and the Bababaksum had abandoned him when hed needed it most. He raised his own palm and worked his face into what he hoped read as a gracious smile. His friend slapped his hand. Simons smile didnt falter as he watched his hand explode into a mess of red. He knew that wasnt how high-fives were supposed to work, but there was no time to register a problemand no time to feel painas his friends open palm continued forward and collided with his forehead, and that was it. # Its up there! Helen shouted, one finger pointing overhead. Its gonna jump! Dante yelled, startling Benno, who hadnt known he was standing right behind him. Overhead, eighty feet in the air, a fleshy balloon pulsed and wriggled. Its stubby legs and numerous tails beat at the air, attempting to propel itself higher. Gemma, scramble the boundary! Edda sprinted past Benno with a wash of blue, her mask closed over her face and her long phallus bobbing menacingly. Her armorand the sword extending from her handreflected the gray wasteland. BOUNDARY SCRAMBLE IMPLEMENTATION INITIATED. HALF-LIFE RATE AT 4.4193 SECONDS 3.2614 SECONDS Edda leapt. Bennos mouth fell open as she rose into the airtwenty, forty, seventy feether hair billowing, her sword outstretched toward the fleeing Bababaksum, which flailed and contracted like a beached squid, as if some enormous pressure bore down on it. Edda reached the acme of her leap and from the point of her sword was a flash of purple light, and four transparent purple triangles appearedall flared open like unfolded origamibefore snapping shut around the Bababaksum, enclosing its writhing body in a purple pyramid of light. I got it! Edda called from above, her usually carefully curated bravado replaced with the giddiness of a little girl. I got it! The Bababaksum strained against its purple cage, clawing and gnashing with its grotty legs and carious teeth. Eddawhether by some function of her suit or by merely weighing slightly more than the upward force of the Bababaksums futile attempts to fly awayfloated slowly down, reminding Benno of Mary Poppins except far more terrifying, and with a terroristic parasite monster in a pyramid cage on the end of a sword instead of an umbrella. Got a little hairy there, Dante said, slapping Benno on the back. Edda had the good sense to get us the fuck out of the Realm as soon as you John McClaned the library. Good thing she did, too. He gestured around at the rubble. But alls well that ends well. Benno placed a second hand over the first one already covering his crotch. Was that you? he asked. The Momma thing? Sure was. Dante smiled proudly. Pretty fucked up. Yeah, I mean Dantes smile faltered. Just working with what I had. Isaac joined them, unwrapping the bloody tape from his hands, and Helen sauntered up alongside. Together they watched as Edda alit softly to the charred ground near Simons body, a streak of bright blood all that was left of his head and neck. We did it, she said, her mask dissolving to reveal dark green lips spread across white teeth that dazzled against the sooty landscape. And it wasnt even that hard. # Edda placed the Bababaksums purple pyramid prison atop the table on the bridge. Mind your distance, she said before stationing herself at the console. Benno, in a fresh pair of clothes, gazed down at the black crater formerly known as the town of Middle Forest. From up herethree hundred feet at leastit appeared like an enormous bruise on the face of the earth. Everything that had been there was gone: The red brick buildings. The snow-covered cars. The 7-11. The library. All of it obliterated. Nothing had survived. Nothing but a vile, Realm-jumping god-monster And Benno. I know its unfortunate, Edda said from the console, watching Benno from the corner of her eye. Such a staggering loss of life is never optimal. But rest assured that without our intervention, the Bababaksum and its host would have caused far greater death. Its not that, Bennos voice was tight as tears fought to spring forth, and he looked at Edda. Is the Gardens real? Edda frowned, her orange eyes dark. This again? Because if its not If its not then I dont know what Im going to do. Bennos hands trembled up the length of his chest and flitted around his mouth. That explosion Was it what I think it was? That depends, Hermann said. "If you think it was a highly enriched uranium fission weapon yielding 63 terajoules Benno sobbed once, lurching forward, a tendril of saliva whipping from his mouth and dangling on his lip. I was right there, he said. I was ten feet away when it exploded. If that didnt do it then nothing will. Dont you see? Dont you understand? Hermann, Isaac, Dante, Helen and Edda watched him. Im stuck! Snot ballooned from Bennos nostril. Im stuck here! Everyone else gets to die. Everything else dies and in a billion years Im going to be drifting through space all alone for eternity. Why is this happening to me? What did I do? Benno fell to his knees and craned his head back to meet Eddas eyes. Why? Tell me. Why me? Edda looked down at him, piteous. Benno clenched his fists. I smelled his brain! The crew returned stupefied looks. After the accident Bennos fists trembled. He was out on the pavement. Knocked through the windshield, lying on a carpet of broken glass. I went to him. He looked like he was sleeping. I could hear his breath. His desperate breath I picked him up and held him. His hair was damp with blood. I tried to wipe it off, but it came away. The hair, the skin, the skull And there was a smell. Iron and fat. And something something else. His thoughts, his soulI dont know. It came out and I smelled it and I didnt want to but I did it before I could stop and And its stuck in me now. The smell of my sons brain is stuck in my mind. I wasnt supposed to know that smell. No one is supposed to know that smell He used to climb up my back like a tree. He used to giggle with his face in my hair Benno groaned and dropped his face into his hands, and for a few seconds the crew watched him weep. Then, one by one, they turned away. Are we all accounted for? Edda asked, facing the console. Without Ddoak, the remaining six of us are here, Hermann said. Edda traced a shape on the console. Benno lowered his hands from his face. Below him, the morose crater gawped, a stark symbol of the profound extent of his condition. His bloodshot eyes wandered upward, settling on the table atop which the purple pyramid sat. From inside it, the Bababaksums empty eye sockets stared back at him. Death the Bababaksums voice gnashed directly into Bennos ears in the moments before the Shenandoah went dark. It was an ugly voice, a brittle voice like the wheezing of a sick dog. It was vile. But there was also understanding. Compassion. Tenderness. I can give you death [Part II - The Baba鈥檅a鈥檏sum] Chapter 15 - The White Door The Everson Family were pleased to have their Bababaksum backthough the only indication of this was a subtle bow of the head Mother offered Edda as the latter handed off the pyramid prison to the hairless man with the septum ring. It was dawn. It didnt seem to Benno that enough time had passed for a full night to elapse, but he was too tired, and his thoughts too unkempt, to consider the implications. He stood on the Shenandoahs bridge, sipping a whiskey, watching through the transparent walls as the rest of the crew gathered behind Edda on the lawn while she relayed some version of events to Mother that Benno assumed omitted the full extent of his role. The purple pyramid prison glinted in the early wisps of sunlight as the hairless man carried it up the wide staircase. Benno craned to catch one last glimpse of it before it disappeared inside the mansions entrance, and once it was gone, he was left with what he could only describe as a pang of homesickness. When he was eight years old, Benno had attended his first sleepover. There were three other boys there, all from his class. He wasnt particularly good friends with any of them, and why he was invited in the first place he couldnt recall. The later it gotmany hours after he was typically asleepthe more energized the other boys seemed to become. They talked and talked, louder and louder as the night grew longer and deeperin the dimness of the strange bedroom with its unfamiliar smells and sharp-angled shadowsof things about which Benno knew nothing. Benno had abided this, despite his exhaustion, despite his conviction that something wasnt right, that they shouldnt be up, that this post-bedtime mania was creating something or releasing something that couldnt be destroyed or re-contained. Until finally he couldnt abide it any longer, and hed broken into tears, halting the excited conversation. He remembers the other boys faces, frustrated and embarrassed. The boy whose house it wasthe hosthad quietly crawled into his own bed and turned off the lamp and said, I think its time to go to sleep, and the other boys had crawled into their sleeping bags in silence and soon they were all breathing steadily in the safe throes of REM. Except for Benno, who lay awake, alone, guilty and ashamed, wanting nothing more than to just go home. You cant trust it, Jason Rogers said from the mashed aperture of his mouth. Its all lies and tricks. I dont, Benno said, staring out past Edda and Mother at the mansions dark entrance, willing something to emerge. Coulda fooled me. Jason chuckled his slick, scabby chuckle, but it was brief and uncertain. Just be a little patient, creep. Edda will get you where youre going. Aberd hunsa begda mest, the Forrorian with the missing jaw suggested. Bagdum esh mest esh bagdum, the headless Forrian waxed. Wait for the Gardens, said a choir of voices, and when Benno turned slowly he found the bridge crowded with charred, faceless people, their clothes smokey and their skin rended, just making their way home from work or school, simply trying to live their lives. He turned his back to them. Edda and the crew were returning to the vessel. Mother and the rest of the Family stood on the lawn, watching them depart. On the top of the wide stairs, just outside the mansions entrance, a woman with dark hair held a boy tightly in her arms. They both smiled at Benno, and gestured for him to come. No work tomorrow, Edda announced as she entered the bridge. We can celebrate properly tonight. Im getting wrecked! Helen bellowed, angling both thumbs at herself as if to indicate who the one getting wrecked was. Put your smocks on! Dante hollered. Were gonna paint the town! Isaac laughed and Hermann grinned and bobbed his head. Edda, her mouth locked in a satisfied grin, winked at her crew before setting a course back to the Inn. Benno sat at the table and placed his hands on its flat surface in exactly the spot that the purple pyramid had been. # The crew gathered in the clubroom and started up the music. Edda reclined on the sofa and took long sips from a glass of red wine. Helen drank beer after beer, tossing each empty can over her shoulder into what should have been a growing pile. Hermann nursed a scotch on the rocks and Isaac bounced between a glass of IPA and a glass of vodka, making hardly a dent in either. Dante danced alone with a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black he had yet to open. That guy was fucked, Dante called over the music, shuffling in a circle. Like I dont feel bad for him or anything cause he was a psycho, but still. His mother messed him up. All our mothers messed us up, Helen said. But we arent all out there killing people. There are numerous studies on the relationship between psychopathy and the formative maternal bonding stage, Hermann said. Imagine needing a study to show you that psychos have mommy issues. Helen drained another beer. How about that blast? Dante nae-naed. I didnt think we were making it out in time. I mean, you were cutting it close, Edda. Edda shrugged her blue eyebrows. Ive cut closer. You done bigger booms than that, Isaac? Helen snorted. Bigger booms. Isaac shrugged. Comparable, Hermann said, already slurring. Isaacs largest recorded energy output was greater than todays by only I cant with the numbers right now, Doc. Helen cracked a fresh can. Math is drinkings worst enemy. Agreed. Dante raised his unopened Johnnie Walker mid-grapevine. Hey, lets hear it for the MVP. My man, Benno. Everyone raised their drinks. I can give you death I can give you death Hey, wheres your drink? Helen asked. Benno looked up. Huh? Helen tapped her beer. You gonna drink with us? Benno cleared his throat, his train of thought lowering slowly into the swamp of his mind, and worked his face into an aloof grin. You call that drinking? Ho-ho! Dante abandoned his dancing and hopped over the back of the sofa. I just drank twelve beers. Helen pointed at the rooms empty corner. Thats amateur, Benno wrinkled his nose. I know you think you know how to drink, but where I come from This fucking guy. I mean I thought we were getting wrecked tonight. Benno crossed his arms. What do you suggest? Hermann sat forward in his chair, one arms sliding off his armrest and landing in his lap. Benno shook his head. Maybe its a bad idea Shot for shot, Helen said. Im in, Dante finally cracked open the lid of his Johnnie Walker. Isaac? I c-c-cuhcan try Ill attempt this feat, Hermann said. Though I admit my tolerance is not what it once was, and keeping up with you young people might So youre going to teach us how to drink properly? Edda held her wine glass between two long fingers. Lets fucking do this! Helen rolled her shoulders and cracked her knuckles. What are yall drinking? Dante asked. Want some Johnnie? Benno scoffed. Thats barely even booze, he said. No, if you kids want to drink, then were going to drink. He raised the Gemstoke to his lips. Gemma. Double shots of Everclear for the crew. The shots manifested. Everyone took theirs and studied the glassy liquid. Isaac sniffed it and coughed. Wuh-wuh-wow Benno raised his glass. To a job well done, he said. I can give you death The crew raised their glasses and watched as Benno drank. He smacked his lips. Go on, he said. Everyone took their shots. Oh good grief, Hermann sputtered. Dante stuck out his tongue, his eyes wide. Holy moly Isaac scrunched up his face and swallowed hard. Helen did her best to conceal her reaction, her eyes watering. Edda took a slow breath and wiped her lips with the outside of her hand. Well Benno dropped his glass, then raised Gemma. More. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. # It didnt take as long as hed thought it would: Edda sprawled across the sofa, one long arm dangling on the floor; Dante sat cross-legged in the corner, his head back against the wall and his mouth open; Helen lay in the fetal position at the base of a chair, her face squished against the carpet, saliva pooling; Isaac snored on his back, his foot twitching minutely; Hermann breathed slowly in his chair, his chin against his chest, his mouth folded into a grin. Benno took a final shot just for himself, then stepped over Helen and out into the hallway. For a few minutes he wanderedgathering courage or just putting distance between himself and the othersbefore slowing to a stop. There had been two funerals, one for each of them. Benno did not remember whose idea this had been, or why it had been done this way. In retrospect it seemed unnecessary. At the time of the accident, their lives had yet to fully untanglemother and young sonand their deaths, while not totally simultaneous, had felt singular. At least to Benno. He remembered very little from the days following the accident. There was a hospitala wash of gray and slow beepsand a morguea carving of gray and deep silenceand the pervading odor of antiseptic and latex. Then there was the dark misery of the funerals, back to back, either one day after the other or several. The shock and the alcohol mutilated time. Benno hadnt known then why he was still therenot that he knew now either. But back then he hadnt known yet that he couldnt leave, that he couldnt follow them. He decided somewhere in that wash of gray that his survival was a mistake. He had two concrete memories from then: one of standing over a small casket staring at a nondescript section of its polished surface and realizing with a horrid curdling that he would never again smell his sons hair, and another of standing over a larger casket staring at the far wall and deciding he was going to kill himself. He couldnt imagine then it could get any worse. I can give you death Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe. Maybe not. Bennos hand trembled as he raised the Gemstoke to his lips. Maybe. # The pink neon sign blinked. It was nighttime again, confirming Bennos suspicion that time behaved differently Realm to Realm. He hurried across the lawn, his head down, dew gathering on the toes of his sneakers. The mansions door was open, and after jogging up the steps Benno paused at its threshold. Was he expected? Was his whole plan found out? Was this some kind of test that he was unequivocally failing? The enormous gears churned overhead, casting wafts of iron, glistening dark red in the dim, flickering light. The cavernous room was empty, and Benno dashed across it and into the elevator. He turned slowly, surveying the elevator''s rutted walls. There were no buttons, no levers, nothing with which to operate it. He would have to find another way down. He started back out, but then the iron gate slammed shut over the entrance and the elevator moaned and lurched downward. Heres how I see it, Jason Rogers said, tapping his boot on the elevators stone floor to shake free a smattering of ice. Either youre running to your death, or everyone elses. Now if the last seven years are any indicationand Im proof they areId say the latter is as close to a sure thing as youll find in the wild. But thats just the input of one person you killed. One of a few who Id bet would agree with me. The odor of dead plants and stale water assailed Benno as the elevator thudded to the end of its descent. He kept his eyes forward as he marched down the corridor, his shoes sloshing in the slimy puddles. He ignored the first enclosure, a dark figure with inscrutable dimensions staring out at him. He ignored the second, where the massive newt clung to the wall, its tail glowing faintly, its many eyes reflecting a strange facsimile of Benno. He ignored the third, in which a person standing on their hands scurried into the shadowy recesses of their cell at the sound of Bennos footfalls. He stopped at the fourth enclosure. It was dark beyond the bars, and at first he worried the Everson Family had not yet returned its inhabitant, that they were keeping it elsewhere. But then his eyes adjusted, and the fleshy organ floating by the cells back wall took shape, its empty eye sockets somehow darker than the rest of the darkness. How. Benno said, not a question but a demand. The Bababaksum drifted forward an inch, its grotesque snout wrinkling. Let me out, it croaked. And I will show you. Benno shook his head. Either convince me you have something I need, or I walk away. The Bababaksum quivered along the slick ceiling. You have no compunction to freeing me after all you went through to bring me back here? The floating colon asks a good question, Jason said, leaning on the bars. Im out of patience for compunction, Benno said. Im out of patience for all of this. The only things I ever cared about are gone. Nothing matters to me in this or any Realm. So I have no compunction to freeing you, as long as what youre offering is real. The Bababaksum wedged its snout between the enclosures rusted bars. Look, it hissed, angling its snout down the corridor. Benno turned. Past the additional enclosuresin which Benno could only assume were housed other abominable creaturesat the far end of the damp, dark corridor, barely visible in the gathered dark, was a door. A simple wooden door, painted white, with a brass knob and an old, brass keyhole. In there What? Benno asked. Whats in there? The Bababaksum wriggled. Death Benno started toward the door. Wait. The Bababaksum wedged its snout further through the bars. He will not answer to you. But I am his friend. And I am your friend. And so I will make friends of you both. Benno peered into the dark pits of the Bababaksums eyes, deep like two graves, then shook his head and wiped his face. You are not my friend, he said. The Bababaksum nodded slowly. What do you want in exchange? Freedom. Think about Helen and Isaac and Hermann and Dante, Jason said, his swollen mouth inches from Bennos ear. Even that bitch Edda. Who do you think this bloated skin tag is coming after first if you let it out of here? Fuck them. The Bababaksums empty eyes narrowed. Jason nodded. Then think about Asher. Benno clenched his teeth. You dont care about Asher. But Im not me, Jason said. Benno looked up at the Bababaksum. Freedom to do what? The Bababaksums gangly mouth peeled into a crooked smile, revealing its bank of jagged, rotten teeth. Jason tsked, a wet sound from his macerated mouth. If you thought the train was bad, wait til you see what this thing has in store. Benno sneered. Turn around, Jason said. Go back to Edda. Give her time. Wait and see. If the Gardens is real Its not The Bababaksum interrupted. Benno peered into the two black holes of its eyes. The Scattered Kings Daughter is a liar. All of his daughters are liars. It is what they are. It is in their nature. That might be true, Jason leaned toward Benno. But just because shes a liar, doesnt mean this thing isnt also. Look the Bababaksum hissed. Just look Benno turned toward the white door. Two pairs of eyes trembled from the shadows. They are there Let me take you to them Benno took hold of the rusted handle affixed to the enclosures outside panel. It was stiff, and he wrestled with it until, with a moan and a whine, it started to give. The Bababaksums smile widened, flakes of putrid skin breaking from its cracked lips like drool, its gaping eye sockets watching the latch slide from its well. Sucks its you, said a voice that was not Jasons. Benno whipped around, releasing the handle. The latch clanked back into place. A little girl, no older than eight, wearing a dress imprinted with stars and covered from head to toe in tattoos, stood in the corridor, looking up at Benno from under her black bangs. Who are you?! Benno growled, his voice echoing through the damp corridor. Aw, fuck tits, the girl said, and all at once Benno remembered her. He clenched his jaw. Get out of here. Rose sighed. Anyone else I could just bonk over the head, or inject with a sedative and drag out of here. But you She shook her head. Theres nothing I can do. I mean, theres something I can do, and Im gonna do it, but its going to cause a lot of trouble for us. A lot of trouble for Edda. This is none of your business. Bennos hand returned to the handle. Go back to the Inn and forget about me. It is my business, though. Rose took a careful step forward. She held one hand behind her back, concealing something. It didnt matter. There was nothing she or anyone else could do to stop Benno. The handle groaned. Whatever this thing told you, its not true. Rose took another step. All it wants is out of its cage. And if it can, it will use you to go out and hurt people. I know you dont want that. Benno strained, the latch grinding. This is the only way. Theres another way. What? The Gardens? It isnt real. Its a lie Edda tells her crew to keep them motivated. Shes a liar. It is real, Rose said. I know its real. Benno looked down at her, his weight compressing the handle, the latch mere centimeters from the edge of its well. How? Rose lowered her eyes. On the Shenandoah, Benno said. When we were in Middle Forest, I made a joke. I didnt think much of it at the time. I asked what you all did before I showed up, how you got anything done. And everyone clammed up. Everyone got weird. And there was something else. Something Edda said to Mother. Just like the last one. Rose cracked her neck. There was someone else Benno eased up slightly on the handle. Before me. There was someone else, wasnt there? Someone who couldnt get hurt. Who couldnt die. Rose swallowed. Yeah, she said, then shook her head at the floor for a few seconds before looking Benno in the eyes. Annabel. She was with us for years. Just through and through one of the best people Ive ever met. And fucking hard. I watched her walk off bullets, fire, electricityyou name it. Not a scratch Rose chewed her lip. She died trying to enter the Gardens. The one time Edda managed to find it. I watched Annabel die. Ripped to pieces from the inside out Thats how I know its real. For a moment, the only sound was the slow drip of water from the corridors ceiling. Then who got in? Benno asked finally, his grip on the handle unwavering. Edda said someone had done it before, one person. Who was it? Eddas father, Rose said. Horus. The Scattered King. The Bababaksums flaky tongue lapped at the space beyond the bars. What did he wish for? Benno asked. Rose shook her head. I honestly dont know. It was a long time before I was born." Benno nodded at the wet ground, then straightened up. Well Im not waiting around for Edda to finish her chore list. And if Im gonna die trying to get into the Gardens anyway He pressed down on the rusty handle. You stupid Rose shook her head. I dont know how this is gonna play out in the long run, but I promise youll regret it. Benno ignored her. The latch clacked free and the heavy metal gate began to grind, slowly, open. Freedom The Bababaksum pressed itself against the widening crack between the gate and rock, its gnarled snout pulsing with hungry anticipation. Rose tented a little hand briefly over her eyes. This is gonna be such a big fucking problem for us She looked up and shrugged. Out of the shit frying pan, into the shit fire. She withdrew her hand from her back. Benno didnt bother checking what she held. What was she going to do? Stab him? Shoot him? He dug his sneakers into the silted ground and shoved the gate wider. The Bababaksums rotten face wedged through the crack. Freedom Rose tossed something. It glinted in the torchlight as it tumbled through the air. Benno clocked it in his periphery just as it struck the Bababaksums head. There was a flash of light and an explosion of heat. Benno flinched and shielded his eyes, releasing the gate, which slammed shut as the Bababaksum burst into a blanket of thick, yellow flames. Screeeeeeeeeee! it shrieked in Bennos ears. Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! It thudded to the ground, thrashing and writhing in the dense fire. It rolled from one end of the enclosure to the other, then toward the back wall, where it twisted and bulged. Screeeee it whimpered, before, with a crackling hiss of air, it went silent and still. Benno watched it burn, his eyes contracting against the harsh firelight. A cold, empty weight he hadnt noticed, which lingered in his hands and feet, passed up his arms and legs and settled in his chest, and as the Bababaksums lifeless body crumbled into ash, the cold weight dissolved into Bennos breath, and exited his body through his mouth, and he was left only with the familiar longing and interminable sadness inherent to his normal self. Are you back with us? Rose asked, one cursory eyebrow raised. Benno wiped his eyes. I thought that thing was indestructible, he said. It survived a nuclear blast. With a host, its pretty close. Rose adjusted her bangs. And it almost had you there. I dont know what I wouldve done if it had attached. But alone, its not much tougher than most animals. The flames waned quickly into a smoldering orange glow. Im sorry, Benno said. Yeah. Rose tapped one tattooed finger on her chin. Me too. I know it was lying to me. I know it was trying to use me. But I just I just want so badly to Benno took a slow breath and gazed down the corridor at the white wooden door. What do you think is in there? Rose peered past Benno toward the end of the hallway, and her brow furrowed. I dont know what the Bababaksum told you, but it wasnt true. Oh and also? Benno? We need to get the fuck out of here. Like now. [Part II - The Baba鈥檅a鈥檏sum] Chapter 16 - Sniped Benno was awakened an hour after he fell asleep by the crash of his door slamming open. You fool! Edda roared, slapping the table aside as she rushed up to his bed. She arched over him, hampered by the trailers low ceiling, her wild blue hair flaring like a wraith. Do you have any idea what youve done?! Benno gathered the sheets up to his chin. The Shining still played on the TV atop the dresserthe scene where Jack makes out with the dead woman from the bathtuband Benno pawed at the remote on the bedside table until the screen went dark. Are you stupid? Edda seethed, her breath reeking of booze, her armor a nondescript wash of linoleum. Do you not have the mental fortitude to recognize deceit? Benno propped himself up on his elbow. You know Ive been wondering, he said, rubbing his eyes. Why I need to sleep. I dont have to eat, I dont have to drink water, I dont even have to breathe. But sleep Sleep I need. There are a few things like that, that I dont understand. Like my fingernails. They grow. And my beard. He touched his jaw, where a dusting of stubble had already formed. And this He held out his hand and peered at it as it trembled minutely. Eddas furious orange eyes searched his face. Is this amusing to you? Youve undone a century of diplomacy and goodwill between me and the Everson Family. Further, youve created a dangerous enemya savage enemywhere before there was a powerful ally. Not to mention youve eradicated any hope you might have of entering the Gardens inside the timeframe we discussed after this moronic Tell me about Annabel, Benno said. Eddas nostrils flared and her green lips curled back away from her teeth. Who told she started, then closed her eyes and exhaled. You think Ive been withholding this from you for some reason? Well if you dont want to talk about Annabel, then maybe we can talk about Horus. A moment passed during which Edda did not react, did not blink, did not breathe. Then she withdrew from Bennos bed and knelt on the linoleum floor, her knee depressing the flimsy material with a wheeze. Annabel wasI suppose by a certain perspectiveyour predecessor. But there were notable differences between you two, the primary being that she was not touched by Her eyes flickered to Benno, then away. For one, she aged normally. She was also notdespite what I assume Rose may have told youtruly impervious to physical harm. She had an unusually fast rate of regenerationsomething to do with a genetic mutationand rapid enough that to an untrained eye she might appear impervious. For all intents and purposes, she occupied the same role you have inherited. Taking fire off the crew, infiltrating environments too dangerous for the rest of us. But the Gardens was different I knew, deep down I think, that she would not survive passage through the rhizome. There were too many variables. But it was before Id found you, and I had to act on the staggeringly rare opportunity of having located the Gardens at all It was a mistake. She was killed when we tried to send her in. And unlike you, she was not interested in dying. She wanted to live. It remains one of my deepest regrets Edda gazed off into a corner of the trailer. It took so many years to find the Gardens. I promised myself I would be ready when I did, that I would not waste anymore time She drew a pink fingernail along her cheek, and her lips moved until a whisper issued forth. Sul sleeps in the gray wastes Benno watched her through a stretch of silence. She turned to him, as if remembering he was there. There is no diminishing how severely youve erred. But I see no point in continuing to reprimand you. From here we can only look forward. So what now? Benno asked. Is the Everson Family coming after us? Are we getting ready to fight? Edda sighed. They now know for certain who and what you are, she said. If we are found, they will kill us and they will make your life an unparalleled misery, and everything Ive worked for will be ruined. Benno drummed his fingers on his thigh. Should I put on pants? Edda reached over, her long arm extending the entire width of the trailer, and lifted the blinds. Beyond the scuffed glass was complete, unwavering darkness. Benno frowned at his dark face reflected in the window. Where are we? At the moment, inside what is called the Lacuna. The fabric between Realms. And were safe here? Yes. But we cannot stay here for long. The Gemstokes engine is not designed for this kind of prolonged exertion. Hermann and I are searching for a new Realm to house our operations I should be returning to him now. I came here only to admonish you. She stood, stooping, her shoulders wedged against the ceiling. You should remain here and do nothing until youve heard otherwise. And before you decide to traipse off on another romp, be aware that I have disabled the Gemstokes while were in the Lacuna. To save power. You will end up suspended out there in the nothingness with no recourse and no chance at rescue. Indefinitely. For you, in particular, I imagine, that would be an unfortunate fate. She turned and stalked out of the room, leaving the door open behind her. Benno sat for a moment, blinking out at the hallways genital-looking floral wallpaper. An unfortunate fate. What would she know about that? He stood and closed the door, then righted the table and collected the plant, whose soil had scattered on the linoleum. He did his best to restore it, patting the soil around its base and massaging one bent leaf back into an approximation of its original shape. Youre lucky, he said, admiring its sightless, thoughtless leaves. There was a small bud forming at the point of a stem. A blue bud. A baby flower. He went to the bathroom to fetch it a cup of water. # He went back to sleep. He dreamed about the white wooden door at the end of the dark corridor in the basement of the Everson Familys mansion. He dreamed he heard laughter beyond it, deep and boisterous. It didnt sound the way laughter was supposed to sound, but yet sounded more like how laughter was supposed to sound than any laughter hed ever heard. Then again it might have been weeping. It might also have been hail drumming on a roof. A shadow slunk along, silent, at Bennos feet, two orange eyes watching. Then the laughter stopped, or the weeping, or the hail, and the brass knob turned. The shadow hissed and fled. The door whined open on its rusty hinges. Benno could not move, could not look away. A shape appeared in the doorway, and then pushed out into the dingy light. Benno recognized the facea face interred in his mindbut forgot, immediately upon waking, that he had seen it at all. He sat up in bed and rubbed his temples. He did not have a headache. He hadnt had a headache in seven years. He asked Gemma for a whiskey, and sipped it as he got dressed. There was something different about his room. For a full minute he couldnt determine what it was, until, all at once, it dawned on him: The light. The light was different. He went to the window and raised the blinds. Sunlight poured in, and he tented his eyes with a hand at the same moment he took a sip of whiskey, and as his brain processed the view his tongue pressed reflexively to the roof of his mouth, and a bit of whiskey dribbled down his chin. A blue, shimmering sea. Water dappled with golden sunlight. A white sand beach in the foreground onto which crystal-blue waves lapped gently. In the distance, less than a mile out to sea, an island sprouted with palm trees. The sky was rich blue, speckled with dazzling white clouds basking in the sun high overhead. Though he couldnt feel the air through the window, Benno could sense it: warm, sweet, clean, as pristine as any tropics he could visit in his own Realm. A perfect paradise, unmarred in its faultless beauty in every imaginable way except for one. The Coil beat in the sky, its raw musculature pulsing once a second, raining its endless torrent of blood down into the tranquil blue sea. He was beginning to recognize a vein running through his life: Where beauty went, a marring of ugliness was sure to follow. As a child, hed had a cat, a handsome cat named well, come to think of it, the cats name had been Horus, named by Bennos mother. Regardless, the cat was handsome and agile with a beautiful beige coat and a long, shapely tail. The only problem with Horus was that his left eye was deformed, a bulging mess of puckered, prolapsed flesh. It was so ugly that it was all anyone saw when they looked at him, despite his indisputable beauty in every other way. The Coil bled into the sparkling sea. YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUESTED OUTSIDE, Gemma announced. Benno lowered the blinds. Who had taught Gemma how to speak? Presumably Edda, which explained the pompous formality. Your presence is requested Benno tilted his head. Outside? It never occurred to him he could exit the Inn. Though in its previous Realm he wasnt sure he would have wanted to. But here? If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He tossed his empty whiskey glass away and hurried into the hall. # Gemma led him through the Inn to a simple glass door at the end of a hallway. Through it, the beach and the sparkling sea beckoned. Benno grasped the handle, kicking off his shoes, prepared to run forth through the sand. But he paused. The door handle was aluminum, like a million other door handles, and yet, unlike a million other door handles, this one had a dimple in the aluminum just beneath where Bennos index finger rested. It had nearly perfectly matching dimensions to the pad of his finger. A strange sensation ran down the length of his back, not a shiver as much as a weight, something wanting to settle in him. But it passed, replaced by the perfectly reasonable acceptance that dents and dimples appeared in aluminum door handles with some expected regularity, and Benno decided a whiskey on the sand would be fitting. Or maybe How about a pi?a colada? Gemma manifested him one in the shell of a pineapple, with orange slices and a swirly straw and, he discovered as he sipped it, a generous dose of rum. He pushed open the doorhalf expecting it to chimeand walked out onto the sand, satisfied to find the air was exactly as warm and salty sweet as hed imagined. His feet scrrrched on the warm sand. It had been so many years since hed walked barefoot on a beach. The last time was with his family in Montauk the year before the accident. With one hand he cradled his pi?a colada, and with the other traced the warm breeze in his fingers, willing it to take the shape of a smaller hand, to pull him excitedly to the water, to dance in his ears in a small, perfect voice. He ignored the Coil pulsing overhead and gazed out at the glittering horizon. Something leapt from the watera dolphin perhaps, or some kind of fishtoo far away to get a clear look. It was sizable, and powerful, its wet gray skin glinting in the sun. The tide lapped in, the cool water kissing his toes. Then there was a BANG! and the wild, leaping creature burst into an arc of blood before its lifeless body splashed sloppily back into the water. Pi?a colada dripped down Bennos fingers. Hey! someone called from down the beach. Benno turned. There were folding chairs and beach towels and a pair of rainbow umbrellas staked in the ground. Edda lounged on a chair, her usual mirror-armor reduced to a mirror-bathing suit, and a pair of large, mirror sunglasses, all of which flared in the sunlight. In the shade of her chair, Recipient the cat napped, glancing up briefly and blinking slowly at Benno, his orange eyes muted, before yawning mightily and burying his face in his arms. Dante reclined on a towel wearing a speedo and glistening with a coat of tanning oil. Isaac and Helen, both on their knees clawing fans of sand behind them, appeared engaged in a race to see who could dig the deepest hole the fastest,. Herman sat in his wheelchair in the shade of an umbrella, his pant legs rolled up to reveal paper-white ankles, reading a book. Ddoak Michol was back, standing stock-still behind Edda, staring blankly out at the sea or, perhaps, the Coil bleeding above the horizon. And then there was Rose. She sat on the wet sand wearing sunglasses, with a blunt dangling from her lips, and an enormous rifle with a long scope trained out at the water. I nailed that fucker, she said, cocking the rifle, which spat a long casing onto the sand. How manys that? Dante asked on his back, his eyes closed. Twelve. Rose peered through the scope. Here comes lucky number thirteen Edda gestured to Benno. Join us, she said, placing a cigarette in her lips. Benno shuffled toward them. He could have just as easily turned and walked away to find his own isolated corner of the beach. He could drink, maybe take a nap. He was under no obligation to socialize. He looked back over his shoulder, where the beach stretched as far as he could see, hemmed inland by a dense tropical jungle. He glanced at the Innand blenched. Hed been so distracted by the beach that he hadnt even thought to check and see what the Hillstul Inn looked like from the outside. A door. Just a door, standing on the beach. There was nothing behind it, no building, no structure, no Inn. Just a door with a brass nob and a simple keyhole. A wooden door. A white wooden door. Is that Benno started, though as he did he realized the door was not exactly white, but off-gray. And it was not necessarily wooden, but could just as easily have been some kind of polymer or metal. And the knob was not brass, but rather ochre, and there was no keyhole at all. Hey Benno, wanna swim? Dante called, propping himself up on his elbows so a runnel of sweat meandered down his hairless chest. Benno eyed the door. His shock diluted into surprise, which hardened into confusion, which melted into the same incredulous acceptance with which hed taken everything else hed encountered for the last three days. Even I must admit this Realm is quite pleasant, Edda said to no one in particular. Despite that it is already inhabited. BANG! Thirteen. Rose ashed her blunt as a cloud of red whipped away over the surface of the ocean. Time! Helen shouted, scooping a final handful of sand into the air and sitting back hard in front of her hole, panting. Dang, Isaac said, equally out of breath. We were nuh-nuh-neck and neck. You gave it your best, kid. Helen offered Isaac an exhausted high-five. But nobody out-digs me. Im the hole-digging master. Checks out, Rose mumbled, peering through her scope. Helen stood, wobbling briefly on the pitted sand. You got something to say? Rose looked up. I didnt say anything, you backwoods bitch. Helen stomped up to Rose and kicked a pall of sand in her face. Rose jumped up, wiping at her face with one hand and leaning on the rifletaller than her by a solid footlike a staff. You know what? she said, spitting her blunt onto the beach. What? Helen stood over Rose. Girls Edda said, insouciant, basking in the sun with one arm draped over her eyes. Rose sneered up at Helen. Helen glared down at Rose. The rifle teetered, its muzzle passing near Helens jawline. Helen outspread her arms. What?! BANG! The muzzle flashed. Helen dropped to the sand. Dante sat bolt upright. Hermanns book fell from his hands. Isaac scrambled backwards. Edda swung her legs off the chair, kicking Recipient, who squawked, irritated, and padded deeper into the shade of the chair. Benno clutched his pi?a colada. Ddoak stared out at the water. Rose! Edda stood, yanking her sunglasses off her face. Shes fine, Rose rolled her eyes. Helen peeked up, her hands flitting around her ear. There was no blood. Her head was intact. You she breathed, her eyes wild. You Edda pulled a towel from the air and wiped her shoulders. That was too close, Rose. Rose shrugged. Helen shook as she attempted to stand. Isaac hurried over to help her up. You alrrr-rrrokay? Im gonna Helen said. Im gonna fucking Both of you, come with me. Edda said. The three of us are going to hash out this foolish feud once and for all. She tried to kill me. Helens lips trembled with disbelief. The little slut tried to shoot me in the head. If I was trying, your fat head would be gone. Helen lunged. Isaac wrapped his arms around her chest and lifted her. Let me go! she screamed, flailing and kicking, her hands clawing the air. Let me go! Rose snickered. Edda sighed and shook her head. Theres something here Hermann said. Im gonna rip her to pieces! Helen screeched. Youre gonna have a fucking stroke. Rose knelt to pick up her blunt. Edda closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose. Theres something here. Hermann repeated, louder. Helen thrashed against Isaacs unyielding hold, her heels smashing his shins and knees. Shes dead! That little shit is dead! Dante glanced up at Benno. This is normal, he said. Benno nodded. Girls Edda said again, too quiet. Edda! Hermann barked. Helen stopped flailing. Rose turned around. Edda looked up from her hand. Hermann sat in his wheelchair, one hand pattering nervously on the armrest, looking at the crew with a grave expression. Theres something h A shadow fell over Hermann. Or at least thats how it appeared in the moment before Hermanns body split in halffrom the crown of his head to the pit of his lapand peeled apart with a spraying chaos of blood until each half dangled over its respective armrest. Silence stifled the beach. Even the wind and waves seemed to hold, suspended, awaiting what came next. How?! Edda screamed. Her bathing suit fractalized and elongated across the length of her body, her horned mask and jutting phallus materializing and her enormous sword pixellating from her hand. She whipped around and looked up. From the deep blue reaches of the sky, a shape appeared. Dark and colossal, it loomed through the upper atmosphere, its grinding teeth and lumbering wheels stained with a sheen of dark blood. A profound stench of iron filled the air. Before anyone could react, a flash of black whipped from the gut of the monstrous gears, and Helen exploded into a pillar of red and a thuck of organs spattered on the sand and blood rained across Bennos face. Isaac screamed. Take me to Barcelona take me to Barcelona take me to Barcelona, Dante stammered into his Gemstoke, cowering behind his beach chair. Theyve scrambled the boundary! Edda spun, her blue hair panicking. Run! Another black flash, a cable or a tendril, Benno discerned, unable to bring himself to movethe pineapple of his pi?a colada a spongey mess in his fistlashed down. This one struck Dante as he tried to clamber to his feet, blowing his back to shards and sending his tattered body rolling across the beach and into the shallows. Another struck Isaac, who knelt, frozen, beside what was left of Helen. It crushed his head down into the cavity of his chest. Blood geysered from the pulpy remnants of his torso. Fuck you! shouted a little girl Benno had never seen before. She fired a long rifleBANG!twiceBANG!at the gears in the sky before dropping it and trying to run. A tendril whippeda bolt of black lightningand severed her legs from her waist. Her bottom half thudded onto the sand, while her top half spiraled through the air spewing a prodigious arc of bright red blood, and landed like a sack in Bennos arms. Edda, sprinting up the beach in the direction of the Inns lonely door, slid to a halt as another black flash whipped down. She drew her sword back, her feet planted deep in the sand, and swung to meet it. Her timing was impeccable, as the blade collided heartily with the tendril. But the timing was all she had, and the tendril passed through the sword like an axe through glass, and through Eddas armor with the same ease, and her arm fulminated at the shoulder in a plume of red. Ddoak gazed out at the water as if nothing at all was happening. A dark shape stirred to Benno''s left: Recipient leaping toward him, his orange eyes boring, his wide paws outstretched. Benno flinched backseeing himself flinch in the glass triangle on the cats collaras the cat landed first on his shoulder, then scrabbled down the length of his body and cowered between his legs. Edda teetered, clutching the pulverized stump of her arm. Through her fingers, clumps of wriggling red worms spewed. She pivoted, galloping back toward where Benno still stood holding the bloodless top half of a little girl whose eyesolder than her facetumbled, uncomprehending, up at him and the sky beyond. A tendril stabbed through Eddas back and into the sand, impaling her in place. Her legs rocked forward as she caught on the black line. It pulsed, coated in the same sheen of dark blood as the titanic, gnashing gears. More red worms bled from Eddas cracked carapace and squirmed down the length of the tendril. Her mask had shattered, exposing one wide, trembling eye, which searched the beach, finding Bennos briefly before darting toward the water. Above the horizon, the Coil beat at its steady rate. Ddoak Edda rasped, ringlets of worms slavering over the masks fractured edges. Hide Benno Benno looked up from the half of a girl dying in his arms at the red beach, his vision bleary and his chest cold. Benno Bennos eyes found Edda. Find my brother Her tongue quavered against the crest of her teeth. Find Onus Bennos mouth opened, silence breathing forth. His eyes darted, meeting Ddoak Michol, as still as a boulder, the waves lapping at their bare feet. Benno blinked, and in that instant Ddoaks neck had turned sharply, their pared, bloated eyes reflecting nothing, and the beach turned on four sides, panels twisting suddenly around, their backs a scuffed black, and enclosed Benno in a darkness that felt to sleep like dying felt to being dead. [Part III - Traum] Chapter 17 - Horror Aequi It was the same every time: He had a couple drinks at dinner and suddenly everything he did was wrong. Tell the waiter a joke hed heard in the teachers lounge? Wrong. Give the hostesswho theyd known for yearsa hug on the way out the door? Wrong. Put on music in the car, roll the windows down, and take the faster route? Wrong, wrong, wrong. Benno couldn''t remember when it started, when Kay started taking issue with every little thing he did. All he knew was that it wasnt always like this. Years ago, before Nick was born, everything was easy. Benno liked to have a few drinks back then, and so did Kay. They had fun together. There were never any problems. But then she stopped drinking. Sometime after Nick was born she just stopped drinking. No more drinks at dinner, no more date nights at the bar, no more glasses of red wine in the living room after Nick had gone to bed. No reason, no explanation. At first, Benno was worried. Was there something going on with her health that she wasnt disclosing? Had something happenedat a work party or out with friendsthat had soured her to alcohol? When he asked, shed shrugged; I just dont want to anymore. And that would have been fine. Benno didnt mind if Kay didnt want to drink. It was her choice. He supported her in everything she did. But it wasnt enough for her to stop; she decided that Benno needed to stop too. Suddenly, his drinking was a problem. Suddenly, that third or fourth whiskey was over the line. Suddenly, Bennos behavior was an issue. But Benno wasnt the issue. Benno hadnt changed. Kay had changed. Kay was the issue. The night of the Close Call was no different. The three of them went to the White Hart Inn for dinner, as they did almost every Friday. Benno had a whiskey while they waited for their food, and two more with his meal. It wasnt an excessive quantity of alcohol by anyones standards. He wasnt sloppy. He wasnt any tipsier than anyone else at the restaurant trying to unwind after a hard week. But Kay didnt see it that way. Will you keep your voice down? she scolded when Benno greeted his buddy, Mark, who was sitting down with his own family across the restaurant. Benno plopped his napkin back on his lap and lifted an eyebrow at his wife. What are you talking about? Everybodys looking. Nobodys looking. If you want to talk to your friend you can go over there and talk to him. You dont need to shout across the restaurant. Benno rolled his eyes. Are you gonna finish your food? Kay asked Nick. Nick shrugged. Lets just get the check. Kay scanned the restaurant for their waiter. We had a faculty meeting today about Andy Schultz, Benno said. His sentencing is coming up next month and the Defense wanted to see if any of usany of his old teacherswanted to speak on his behalf. Nick perked up. The kid who killed his parents? And his sister, Benno said. Didnt just kill them. Cut their throats with a saw. Benno! Kay hissed. What? He knows. Yeah I know, Nick said. Everybody talks about it. And its on the internet. Yeah its on the internet. Benno winked over the rim of his whiskey, which, as he tried to sip, he discovered was empty. The waiter approached. Can I get anyone anything else? Just the check, said Kay. And one more whiskey. Benno held up his empty glass. Oh and youll like this. I heard it today. Why are murders in Kentucky so hard to solve? Because there are no dental records and all the DNA matches. The waiter chuckled, nodded, and walked off. I dont get it, said Nick. Ill explain it to you later. Benno stood. Im gonna say goodnight to Anna. Kay ran her tongue across the sharp crest of her lower teeth. You dont want to wait for your drink? she articulated. Ill get it at the bar. Benno headed toward the front of the restaurant, where Anna leaned over the host stand checking upcoming seatings. Benno always enjoyed talking to Anna. She was still young. It felt like everyone else in Bennos life was growing old. When she saw him, she smiled softly and adjusted her hair. Behind him, Nicks little voice asked a question, and Kays flat voice responded, but Benno couldnt make out what either of them had said. # Why are you going this way? Hail swooped into the patch of headlights on the rushing road. Damp wind and freezing specks billowed through the open windows. TOOLs fevered, angsty droning blasted through the speakers. Benno drove a little over the speed limitnothing crazy. You know this way is bad at night. Kay twisted the musics volume down into nonexistence and rolled up her window so that the air from Bennos window reverberated against his eardrum until he capitulated and followed suit. Its faster this way, Benno said, inching the volume back up. Its not faster. And we hate this music. Youre driving me crazy tonight. Nick loves it. Benno half-turned toward the backseat. You love TOOL, right, kiddo? I like the one song. Will you slow down? Im going the speed limit. The roads are slick. Theyre not, Kay. Kay huffed and tented her eyes with her hand. Benno drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Up ahead, obscured by the whorling hail, the light at the intersection went from green to yellow. Dad, can you explain the joke? What? The joke you told. About Kentucky. Benno glanced sideways at Kay, whose clenched jaw rippled in the faint glow of the dashboards orange light. Whats your problem? he said. Youve really been on one tonight. Kay looked at Benno as if hed just admitted he was three children in a trench coat. Ive been on one? Bennos finger played with the window switch. Kays face sunk into the shadows of the cars passenger side. I dont think we should do Friday night dinners anymore. What are you talking about? Its embarrassing. Whats embarrassing? The light went from yellow to red. Youre embarrassing. More of this again? Benno smacked the wiper lever, which smeared streaks of melting hail across the windshield. I had three drinks tonight. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. You had six. Nicks little hand found Bennos shoulder. Are there a lot of murders in Kentucky? You think Im too drunk to drive? As a matter of fact I dont. You know why? Because you drink so much that after six drinks youre actually still sober. Youre just an asshole. First of all, I only had three drinks Sure. Second of all, youre a bit of an asshole yourself. The red light at the intersection refracted along the wet road like a fresh wound. Benno toed the edge of the brake pedal. You dont even realize how obnoxious you get. Its mortifying. To who? To me. To everyone. Ridiculous. You think Mark likes being shouted at across the restaurant? I was saying hi. You think Anna enjoys you hitting on her with your wife and son sitting ten feet away? What are you fucking crazy? Weve known Anna since she was a kid. The red light turned green. Benno abandoned the brake pedal and hit the gas. But I could live with all of that. Kays dark hair looked blue in the green light as they sped into the intersection. Its annoying and its frustrating but I could live with it. But Benno Youre waking up every morning shaking. You understand what that means, right? Its a muscular thing. My father had it. Do people in Kentucky not have teeth? You know what else your father had? I cant even talk to you right now. You dont get to decide whenWatch out!!! Bennos heart leapt, and he turned to scream right back at Kay, enraged that she would elevate their argument to shouting. But her eyes were looking past him, and he turned the other way into a blinding white light bearing down on the side of their car far. Too fast. Benno slammed the brakepointless and dangerous but instinctive and undeniableas the other car roared into them. Nick shrieked in the back seat, an ugly but yet sweet sound to Bennos ears. Kays hand clawed into Bennos forearm, and despite his dread he could not help but appreciate that it was the first time in many days they had touched. And in this instant, suspended just before impact, his sons voice and his wifes fingernails melding into ardor, there was sudden silence, and a gray expanse yawned open before his eyes. In the gray, a shape stood, tall. A triangle. A pyramid. All gray. And from it, wordssilent yet rapid. Manic. Unrecognizable and yet which Benno understood innately. Safe. Forever. From violence. From mud. From sickness. From nothing. Benno reached toward the pyramid. From place. From language. From body. From time. His fingertips danced with static. Safe. He was calm. From pain. The pyramid was bigger than the sky. Forever. Then the sound stopped, and the pyramid raced away from him, and the gray wastes burned into light with a screech of brakes as the blinding headlights of the oncoming car angled and blurred past the hood. There was a grinding soundmetal-on-metalas the two vehicles scraped against one another. The car rocked as Benno clutched the wheel and Kay called out, Nicks little hand again finding Bennos shoulder, and then the other car was around them, on the other side, its wheels screeching, its brake lights flaring and dimming, and its engine thrummed as it sped off into the darkness of the narrow, winding road. Three heartbeats thudded audibly as Benno guided the car through the remainder of the intersection and onto the shoulder. His hand shook as it sought out the hazard lights. Kay took slow breaths, blinking rapidly. Faintly, TOOL hissed from the speakers. Are we okay? Nick asked, his voice quavering. Benno looked in the rear view mirror at his sons face, smothered in shadow. Kays fingernails dug into his arm. It hurt, but the thought of her letting go hurt even more. Safe. Forever. The delirium of a panicked mind. Hail drummed on the cars roof. Are we okay? # Benno stood in the driveway surveying the damage. The bumper was torn up and dangling off the fender. One of the plastic casings on the headlights was broken, and the exposed bulb stung Bennos eyes. He should call the police, call his insurance Overall, the damage was minimal; Benno had busted up cars worse in his twenties from running up on curbs or backing into spots too quickly. This was just a scrape. A scrape that could have been something else. Just a few incheslet alone a few feetand the result would have been disastrous. Benno might not be standing here. His wife and son might not be inside, warm and whole and safe. If things had been different, if the world had been shifted just slightly this way or that They were lucky. Benno and Kay and Nick were so lucky. Lucky, lucky, lucky Dad? Benno turned. Nick stood in the doorway, his little facesoft and dark like his motherspeering out. Whats up, kiddo? Recipient killed another mouse. Benno nodded. He would deal with the insurance in the morning. There was no rush. There was time. They had time. He kissed Nicks dark hair as he went insidethe vanilla shampoo hed been using since he was a baby the most familiar smell on earthand closed the garage door behind them. # The mouses little abdomen was slit from neck to groin. Its organsstill attached by veins and viscerawere drawn from the slit and arranged neatly on the floor beside it. The little heartno larger that a grain of ricestill managed to beat weakly in a widening pool of its own blood. In the hallway off the living room, Recipients large shadow skulked. Why does he do that? Nick asked, standing behind Benno. Its in his nature, Benno said. He has an instinct to kill for food. But we feed him, so he doesnt need to eat his prey. But why spell? Spell? With the organs. What do you mean? It looks like a word. Benno peered at the thuck of entrails. It was true they were arranged curiously: The lungs were angled almost like a letter, the fluttering heart staged like punctuation, and the intestines unspooled with the careful lull of cursive Is he trying to tell us something? Nick asked. No. Benno tossed a towel over the eviscerated mouse and stood up, his knees whining. Its called apophenia. Seeing patterns in randomness. Its part of being human. Nick chewed his lip. Like in clouds. Exactly. Does Recipient see patterns? I dont know. I dont think so. Did we almost die tonight? Benno looked down at the top of his sons head. No. Of course not. Nick frowned at the towel, his nose wrinkled, his lips churning along with the thoughts in his head. What if we had? What if wed what? Died. Benno exhaled slowly, old whiskey fumes gathering in his sinuses. We didnt. But we couldve. I mean, even if we couldnt have tonight, we still could at any moment. Like, something could happen. Lightning. Or a satellite falling out of the sky. You never know. Something could always happen. The ice maker sighed from the kitchen, and the lights dimmed. And if we did, I mean if we did die tonight, then we wouldve died with you and mom mad at each other. Nick And even if it wasnt tonight, even if it was some other time, like last night or last week or tomorrow or a month from now, you guys would still be mad at each other. And if we die and youre mad at each other then youre gonna be mad at each other forever. Because when you die you get stuck however you were when it happened. Who told you that? And then youd never have a chance to fix it. It doesnt work that way Nicks lips trembled, his dark, wet eyes reflecting the towel spread atop the dead mouse. Benno understood that this moment mattered. His sons life, his attitudes, his beliefs, his fears and his confusions, were forged in moments like this one. Now, here, in front of his eyes, Nick was learning to cope, or to crumble. Benno had a chance, and a choice, and a grave responsibility. Hed made a decision long ago not to repeat his own fathers failures. I will do better, hed whispered to Nick in the hospital the day he was born. I will do better. But Benno had come to understand something over the last eight years: As a parent, you could promise and plan and prepare all you wanted, and the world would have its way with your children just to spite you. So much of parenthood, hed learned, was letting go. And besides, the right thing to say was not obvious, the words to piece it together not liquid. He was tired. He still had to clean up a dead mouse, run the dishwasher, feed Recipient And the premise of Nicks anxietythat death locked people in placewas silly. He would grow out of it. He would work through it on his own. Yes, that was Bennos responsibility here: To stay out of the way. To let his son figure it out for himself. He touched the boys shoulder. Go put on your PJs and brush your teeth, he said. Ill be there in a couple minutes to read. Nick looked up at him. He looked so much like Kay. Teeth, kiddo, Benno said. Then you can climb the Daddy tree. Im too big for that. Nick walked off, his feet scrrrching on the hallway carpet. Benno ignored a pang of longing. Of course Nick was too old for that. Why had Benno even suggested it? He knelt and lifted the towel. Despite all likelihood, the little disembodied heart continued to beat. When you die you get stuck however you were when it happened. Who had told him that? Probably something hed read online. Benno would have to talk to Kay about revisiting the child-safety settings on the laptop. He scooped up the carcass with the towel, went to the back door, and threw the dead mouse out toward the shed in the dark yard. # Kay refused to look up from her book while Benno got ready for bed. He busied himself at the dresser, folding and refolding his t-shirt before wadding it up and tossing it in the hamper, then stood at the bathroom mirror with the water running, looking at himself with as neutral an expression as he could muster. He needed to shave. He needed to tweeze his eyebrows. He needed his teeth whitened. He needed to lose weight. It was late. Hed do it all tomorrow. We should sit down with the laptop, he said, climbing into bed. I think Nicks been looking at some stuff online he shouldnt be. Kay set her book down on the bedside table, turned off the light, and rolled onto her side with her back to Benno. Hail pattered the window pane. Increasingly over the last few years, Benno found it more and more difficult fall asleep and easier and easier to wake up. If sleep was a glacier, it was melting, exposing the rock and fossils beneath. He listened to Kay breathe slowly in the dark, and remembered his first sleep overwhen he was about Nicks age, come to think of it. Hed cried, homesick and exhausted, interrupting the late night revelry, only to find, once the other boys, for his benefit, had turned in, that he was unable to sleep. He had lay awake for hours. Now, beside his wife of ten years, in the home theyd lived in together for seven years, he felt again inexplicably homesick. He rolled onto his side and shut his eyes tight, willing sleep to come. His pillow smelled like nothing. Shapes flickered on the cave walls of his eyelids: The mouses heart, still beating on the ground at the foot of the shed behind the house; Recipients orange eyes watching from a window; Another pair of eyespared, bulginglooking back from the open door of the shed, and a long hand picking up the heart between two long fingersbeige and fingernail-lessand holding it aloft so that it bled down, endlessly, mixing with the hail and the invisible torrent of time. [Part III - Traum] Chapter 18 - Big Red Son Typically, at the end of a school day, Benno would walk from the high school building down the hill to the elementary school to pick up Nick, and together they would walk to the faculty parking lot and drive home together. Sometimes theyd talk about their days, sometimes theyd listen to musicBenno so badly wanted Nick to appreciate 90s rockand sometimes theyd just sit in silence. However it went, Benno cherished these windows with his son, all to himself. On a Tuesday afternoon in Maytwo and a half months after the Close Call, as Benno had come to think of ithe made the usual walk down the hill to fetch Nick. He passed a few of his students, all piling into a car, who nodded at him and then laughed loudly once hed passed. A terrace of silver nimbostratus clouds gathered over the hills to the east, reaching down in long columns like an upside down city. Nick was usually waiting for Benno outside the elementary school entrance. But today he was not. Benno walked inside and scanned the hall. A handful of children loitered by the lockers, and Mrs. Oswold, Nicks history teacher, waved to Benno on her way from a classroom to the faculty lounge. No sign of Nick. Benno glanced at his watch. It was 3:15pm, precisely at the usual time. Maybe hed gone to the bathroom. Benno paced along the wall opposite the lockers, where a wall-length mural depicted autumnal woods below a setting sun, and mountains in the distance, and a lake in the foreground along the shore of which a simplified version of the school building stood, a pink neon sign on its eave, styled like the marquee over an old casino: SHRINEKILL ELEMENTARY SCHOOL Benno had never really looked at the mural before. It had been there for yearspainted, if he recalled correctly, by an art teacher who retired before Nick was even bornand Benno had seen it so many times hed stopped seeing it. Now, peering at it, he noticed a curious shape standing at one of the school buildings second-story windows. A figure, silhouetted, with an elongated head that might have been a tall hat. But the craftsmanship was imperfectdone by an elementary school art teacher after alland it was likely that in painting the head they had simply erred, and smudged it, and made it look longer than intended. After several minutes, Benno poked his head into the bathroom. The lights were already off, and the smell of bleach overwhelmed him. He backed out, then stood in the hall. Had he forgotten something? Did Nick have a playdate hed space on? Was Kay picking him up today? He had after school piano lessons in the music room on Wednesdays. Did it get rescheduled? The music teacher, Brooke Stern, was alone in the music room stacking chairs. When Benno entered she looked up, frowned for a moment, then smiled and covered her mouth, self-conscious, Benno assumed, about food in her teeth. Hey, she said. Benno drummed his fingers on the door. Sorry to bother you. Im looking for Nick. Brooke frowned. Wait. What day is it? No its Tuesday. I just figured maybe he was here. Oh. Brooke stacked another chair, then leaned on the piano and closed one eye. I saw his friends, Danny and Luca, heading toward the gym a little bit ago. I dont think he was with them, but you can check. Yeah, Ill do that. Brooke smiled, again covering her mouth. Benno hadnt really noticed before, but she looked a bit like Kay. Almost ten years younger, not quite as pretty, but undeniable. His eyes wandered to her hand, and her bare ring finger. Everything else okay? she asked, drawing his eyes back up. Everything else is great. Benno drummed his fingers on the door again, nodded, and backed into the hall. He glanced out front again to confirm Nick was not waiting for him, then headed toward the gym. He should call Kay. She might know where Nick was. At the very least she should know he was missing. Though he wasnt missing. He just wasnt where he was supposed to be. A missing child was something different. A missing child was a crisis, a nightmare. This was neither of those. This was just a moment. Basketball practice was underway in the gym, junior varsity. Again, Nick was nowhere to be seen. Benno passed through along the wall and into the locker room. There were clothes scattered about, backpacks and sneakers piled on benches and outside lockers. No sign of Nick or Nicks friends. But there was a sound. From deeper in the locker room, toward the showers. A strained, wet sound. Gagging. And hushed voices. Bennos sneakers squeaked on the tiles. The nearer he got, the clearer the voices became. He recognized oneDanny Meldmannsby its distinct lisp. Danny and Nick had been friends since kindergarten. The two of them, along with Luca Allen, were essentially inseparable. As Benno stepped into the showers, he saw Danny first, standing with his hands drawn to his chin, his skinny body tensed, his eyes rapt with fear. Lucas back was pressed against the wall. His eyes were also widebulgingbut not with fear. With panic. A gurgling sound rolled through his open mouth, and his hands clenched the forearms attached to the hands that squeezed his throat. Nick choked Luca so hard he shook. His teeth gritted, the nib of his tongue protruding through the gap where hed recently lost two teeth side-by-side. His little brow was bent steeply over his eyes. It was an expression of focus and rage Benno had never seen his sons face make. He looked like someone Benno had never met in his life. For a moment, Benno was stricken still and silent. Then Danny saw him, and his wide eyes widened further. Nick he said, patting Nicks back. Nick ignored him. His hands flexed around his friends throat. Hes trying to kill him, Benno thought. Nick. Danny repeated. Nick let out a groan of exertion, his knuckles white. Lucas eyes fluttered, and his knees started to buckle. Bennos shock finally shattered. Nick! he roared, charging up to his son. Nick startled, and his hands released. Luca stumbled, caught himself against the wall, and took a raspy, shuttering breath. What are you doing!? Benno seized Nick by the arm. Nick let out a yelp. Danny had retreated to the other side of the room, his hands still clasped at his chin. Luca lurched along the wall, blinking deeply as if to retrieve his vision. Answer me! Benno shook Nick by the arm, feeling the soft bone jounce in his grasp. What are you thinking!? Nick gawped up at his father. For a moment it seemed he might cry, his lower lip protruded, his eyes overwhelmed. But then his lips tightened, and his eyes hardened, and he swatted at Bennos hand. Get off of me! His voice cracked. Youre hurting me! Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Benno gripped harder, half out of anger, half out of reflex as the thing in his grasp tried to wrestle free. A decomposed memory rose up from the soil of his mind: his own father, stinking of whiskey, toppled from his wheelchair, seething and clutching Bennos ankle as Benno, no older than eighteen, kicked his anemic grip free, effortlessly, as one might kick away a dried, fallen leaf from ones shoe. Help! Nick screamed at the top of his lungs. Help me!!! Benno released his sons arm, and the boy fell backward onto the showers tile. Help me up Bennos father had hissed, his chapped lips scraping together. Benno reached down and took ahold of his son, this time by the shoulders, and hauled him to his feet. Help me up What is wrong with you? Nick blinked, obstinate and scared. We were playing. His voice was barely audible. You could have fucking killed him! Danny made a noise, a precursor to some statement that never came. Benno looked over at Luca, who now appeared, more-or-less, fine. Are you okay? Yeah, Luca said, his voice hoarse. We really were just playing. Nick laughed. It was a sound Benno had never heard him make. Tinny, arrogant, flippant. It was not a sound his child made. Come on. Benno led Nick by the shoulder out of the locker room, through the gym, back down the hallwhere Mrs. Oswold, now returning from the faculty lounge to her classroom, gave them wide berthand outside to the faculty parking lot. He guided Nick into the backseat and slammed the door. On his way to the drivers side he looked up, where the silver nimbostratus clouds had climbed high into the sky. Do you know how dangerous that was? Benno asked once they were on the road. Do you know what could have happened? Nicks face was just outside the frame of the rearview mirror.Please, he said finally, his voice smallnormal againthe voice of a child Benno recognized. Dont tell mom. Benno saw his father crawling, gaunt and tremulous, across the floor. His knurled fingers pawed at the carpet. Someday, Benno would look like him. Help me up. # The next day, Sasha AllenLucas mothercalled Kay. Benno hadnt had a chance yet to decide what or whether to tell her had happened. He was of two minds: One understood that he should not keep secrets with his eight-year-old son from his sons mother. The other acknowledged that the situation might sound worse than it was, and he didnt want to cause Kayor by extension Nickany needless anxiety. Benno remembered when he was a child, rough housing with his friends, exploring one anothers strength and influence. Benno had been a little boy. Kay had not. She would panic. The situation did not call for panic. Everything, ultimately, was fine. But the phone call from Sasha threw all this internal debate out the window. Kay stepped into the kitchen doorway while Benno loaded the dishwasher, her expression a terrible blankness. From the other room: the sound of Nicks video games. Why didnt you tell me? Kay asked softly. Benno shut the dishwasher door and dried his hands. He could have said a million things: He could have played dumb and asked what she was talking about, bought himself some time; he could have brushed it offI didnt want to worry youor blamed the other boys; he could have disarmed her with a profuse apologyI should have told you, Im sorry, I dont know what I was thinking. He could have said any of these thing. But instead he just shrugged. We have a big problem, Kay said. It was just boys rough housing, Benno said, opting to brush it off, feeling his heart kick up preemptively in anticipation of an argument. Maybe, Kay said, still soft, her face still blank. But thats not what Im talking about. From the other room, the volume on Nicks video games crackled with a spate of gunfire. At their wedding, Kay and Benno had gotten so drunk that neither remembered the end of the night. In the photos, theyd both been smiling so broadly that their eyes were barely open. For years afterward it was a running joke; theyd open the photo album and laugh at themselves, at their youthfulness, at their glee. Back then, in love, there was negative space between them. Benno hadnt been able to distinguish where he ended and Kay began. NowBenno by the dishwasher, Kay in the doorwayNick cursed loudly from the other room, a word he knew better than to say. # In August of the same year, Benno had a strange dream. A pair of eyes looked up at him, illuminated by a low, flickering candle. They were roundperfectly roundand lidless, and the whites were swollen severely around the constricted pupils. Nothing else could be seen in the dark. And a stench, like sick and unwashed flesh. Benno was suspended. Somehow. And naked. Recipient padded along below him, his long body essing like a sea monster through the black surface of a lake. Then, behind the terrible gaping eyes, a door shook. Thd-thud Benno could not move. His feet dangled off the floor. Thd-thud Recipient fled into the dark. Wait. Benno followed him with his eyes until he couldnt any longer. Wait. Thd-thud Thd-thud. Thd-thud. Thd-thud. Thd-thud thd-thud thd-thud-thd-thud Benno awoke without opening his eyes. Im in a shed, he thought, though the thought dissolved into nothing as he awoke further. His breath was stale and his head ached. He wanted to sleep more, but after several minutes he found he was wide awake. He opened his eyes, and for a moment he didnt know where he was. A room that was not his room, unfamiliar smells and sharp-angled shadows. He sat up, and it all came back to him. The guest room. Where hed been sleeping for the last six weeks. The digital clock on the bedside table read 4:51a.m. It was a Saturday. It was August. He didnt have to work. He had no reason to be out of bed. Downstairs he found Recipient sitting on the windowsill looking out into the backyard, his orange eyes reflected in the glass, his long tail pendulating. The glass triangle on the cats collar, also reflected in the glass, seemed to cast a faint, flickering light. Like a candle. There was a sound in the kitchen, which at first Benno mistook for a chain dragging on the floor but which he quickly realized was the ice maker. There were some papers scattered across the kitchen table, and Benno sorted through them while the coffee brewed, his hands shaking faintlyjust faintly: opened and unpaid bills, a catalogue for swimwear, a menu for the Chinese restaurant they ordered from once a week, a permission slip for a field trip to the Natural History Museum, a thick envelope from Amnesty International, a packet of stapled papers from an attorneys office. He frowned at the packet. The Law Office of Jonathan F. Vetrano. To the Attention of Katherine Altabeth Haim. This legal services retainer Agreementto represent you in family law related mattersClient gives Attorney the right to take all steps in this caseincluding the attempt to negotiate a resolution of the matterto resolve some or allcustodyalimonychild supportdivision of property Benno covered the packet with the permission slip, the menu, the catalogue and the bills, poured a splash of whiskey into his coffee, and left through the back door to stand among the copse in the warm predawn. # Nick got in a fight his first week of fifth grade. The details were murky, but it was serious enough that Benno and Kayalong with the other boys parentswere called into Principal Clavells office in the middle of the day. This meant Kay was forced to leave work, and Benno was forced to ask Frank Talib to sub his fourth period Bio class. The disruption was alarming on its own, but upon entering Clavells office and seeing Nick with a black eye and a busted lipand the other boy, who Benno didnt know, with a bloody nose and scratch marks on his cheekboth sitting side-by-side against the offices wall and glowering at the floor, Bennos palms broke out in cold sweat, Kay stiffened visibly, and the other boys parents let out matching sounds of disdain. It doesnt matter who started it, Clavell said mostly to Benno. Hed met her a handful of times at faculty meetings and school-wide functions, and considered her kind and reasonable. But today, for reasons he couldnt process in the moment, he hated her. Were going to issue suspensions for both boys, for the remainder of the week. Thats ridiculous, said the other boys father. We need to know the details about what happened. It isnt fair to penalize them both if one of them is more at fault. I agree, said the other boys mother. Kay shifted in her seat. Benno could not stop his leg from jouncing. Principal Clavell tapped one long fingernail on her desk thrice, then sat back. She turned to the far wall, where the two boys continued to stare at the floor. Matthew? Do you want to tell us what happened? The other boyMatthewlooked up at Clavell, then from his father to his mother, and his eyes filled with tears. His nose was starting to swell across his face like a slow spill. I didnt do anything, he said, his voice small and earnest. Nick pushed me outside the bathroom. I dont know why. We never talk. Were not even in any classes together. Clavell glanced at Benno, then looked at Nick. Is this true? Nicks own leg began to jounce, in near perfect sync with his fathers. I dont know. Nick! Kay sat forward, one hand gripping the chairs arm. You need to explain yourself this instant. Nick looked up. For the first time in his lifebehind his swollen eye and his scabbing lipshe looked more like Benno than Kay. It was undeniable. A scale had tipped. Benno had wondered when, if ever, it might happen, and secretly feared it wouldnt. But nowand why here and in these circumstances this transformation insisted on occurringit felt suddenly cruel and regretful. Kay had enjoyed a resemblance to their son for eight years while he was sweet and small and perfect. Why should Benno have to inherit him now once hed already outgrown the best version of himself He shut his thoughts off, realizing he was touching his stomach, which throbbed, and looked around the room, surprised to find five and a half pairs of eyes all watching him, expectant, as if there was something he was supposed to be doing. [Part III - Traum] Chapter 19 - 266362 Teachers at Shrinekill High Schoolany school anywhere for that matterwere typically not permitted to teach their own children. So when Nick entered high school they put him in Mr. Talibs Biology class. It wasnt until this happened that Benno realized hed been harboring a fantasy in the background of his mind for many years: Nick as his student, sitting in the front row on his classroom, attentive, curious. A ridiculous fantasy, it turned out, especially since Benno was not even particularly interested in his own work or proud of his own career. Benno would check in with Frank Talib when they crossed paths about how Nick was doing, and Frank always reported that he was doing fine, that his work was getting in on time and he was, more or less, engaged. Benno was satisfied with fine. As a child, his own fatherthe revered semiotician Dr. Harold Haimhad stressed Benno to excel in schoolto exceed merely fine and aspire for exceptionalwith too much assiduity. Thus Benno had learned to resent school. And yet academics was, by all measures, the only field he was qualified to toil in. A shitty condition. At least scienceunlike semioticswas, more-or-less, definitive. Still he wanted none of this for Nick. Fine was fine. Fine was great. Benno had Nicks friendsDanny and Lucain his Bio class. They were not great students. They were barely even fine students. They sat at the table all the way in the back and whispered to each other from bell to bell. They rarely turned in homework, and when they did it was either incomplete or incorrectly complete. And as the fall semester wound to a close, Benno increasingly suspected they were showing up stoned. Nick was too old to get a lift home with Benno after school anymore. Instead, he would walk with Danny and Luca, either to Kays house on Mondays and Tuesdays, or to Bennos apartment in town on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Benno still had reason, however, to walk down the hill to the elementary school each afternoon. Hed get there around 3:15 and stand by the mural with the autumn forest and sunset-streaked sky and the looming school building across from the music room until Brooke Stern finished cleaning up. Then the two of them would walk to the faculty parking lot, get in Bennos car, and, on most days, drive to the local tavern for drinks and a few games of pool. On the second to last Tuesday in Novemberthe last day of classes before Thanksgiving breakBenno and Brooke decided to skip the local tavern and drive into the Catskills. They explored desolate roads up and down the mountainsides, remarking on the beauty of the sparse, rusty trees and yawning gray sky spotted with tattered lines of migrating geese until Benno finally got sick of the folksy music Brooke insisted on playing, and he guided them into town and parked in a public lot. They found a bar off Main Street and set up shop at a booth in the back. The floor was sticky and it smelled like old beer, and the same Eagles song seemed to be stuck on repeat. It reminded Benno distinctly of a bar hed gone to in college, just down the street from the apartment he lived in his senior year. Hed met Kay at that baror at least gotten to know her there. Sticky floors. The same Eagles song. Brooke looked like Kay used to. I asked for Jack but I think they gave us Jim. Brooke set two shots down on the table and sat beside Benno. Also, theres a chick sitting at the bar who hasnt stopped looking at you since we came in. Benno sniffed his shotundoubtedly Jim Beamand peered toward the bar. Sure enough, a pair of eyes looked back at him from behind the rim of a dark beer. A woman Benno had never seen, barely in her twenties, with unkempt bangs and numerous tattoos peeking out from the sleeves and collar of her coat. She blinked, averted her eyes, took a long gulp of her beer, and then got up and left through the bars front door. Someone you know? Brooke sipped her shot of whiskeya habit Benno was starting to loatheand then lifted an eyebrow at Benno as if shed caught him in some kind of act. No. Benno threw back his shot. Might just have a staring problem. Hm. Brooke sipped her shot again, leaned back in the booth and crossed her legs, and busied herself on her phone. Benno had a strange thoughtor maybe a feeling. A hallway. A series of hallways. With floral wallpaper and a salmon-colored carpet. Doors lined the walls. A motel, perhaps. Like any other motel. But there was something so nostalgic about it. Nostalgic and threatening. He nudged Brooke until she moved, and then went to the bar for another shot. Hallways. Doors. Just a feeling. Just a weird thought. Not significant or interesting in any way. Just one of those things that would pass, like everything else. # Brooke got handsy when she was drunk, which was a good indication it was time to leave. It had gotten late, and dark, and though Benno was fine to drive he figured he should take a second to center himself before getting in the car. He bummed a cigarette from the bartender and stood outside in the cold while Brooke went to the bathroom. The streets were quiet, and dead leaves skated across the sidewalk in the low, gasping wind. It took Benno five matches before he managed to get the cigarette lit, and once he did he coughed on it for several minutes before finally catching his breath, and was left with a tight pain in his stomach that faded slowly like a dream. As he smoked, he realized he had his phone out, his thumb tracing absentmindedly across the screen. He should call someone. Nick? Nick wouldnt answer. Kay? They hadnt spoken in weeks, and Benno had nothing to say to her. And she probably wouldnt answer either. He scrolled through his photos. He liked the picture of the three of them at home on Christmas seven years ago, all wearing matching pajamas, gathered in front of the tree. It was Kays holidayone Benno was initially reluctant to adopt after being raised by an atheist father from a Reform Jewish familybut learned to enjoy. In the picture, Nick was clinging to Bennos back, his face half-buried in Bennos hair. Theyd bought him a video game console that year. He was so happy hed cried, and hugged his parents so deeply hed hurt Bennos shoulder. His strength surprised Benno. All the ways he grew surprised Benno. Those years sped by so blindingly fast. Everyone told him, but nothing prepared him. Kay struggled with it more than he did. She once said that from the moment Nick was born, some invisible monster had started dragging him irreversibly away from her. Benno hadnt understood. He still wasnt sure he understood. He wondered if Kay still struggled with this. Maybe he could call and ask her Do you remember me? A voice asked from the dark. Benno startled, coughing anew on the nub of his cigarette. The tattooed woman from the bar stood in the shadow of the doorway beside the bars entrance. She held her arms tucked against her, her bangs flittering in the wind, her long skirt whipping against the ankles of her hight boots. She couldnt be older than twenty-one, but her eyes, out here in the dark, boring into Bennos, appeared much, much older than the rest of her. Should I? Benno asked, tossing the cigarette toward the curb. The womans old eyes narrowed in her young face. Youre Benno Haim, she said. Well shit, Benno thought. He looked hard at the woman. Her visible tattoos appeared all to be ancient Egyptian symbols: an Udjat eye on her throat, a scrawl of hieroglyphs along her jawline, an upside-down Ankh under her left eye. He certainly would have remembered her by her tattoos, but if hed met her before she had themas a student, he figuredhe still couldnt place her. Im sorry, he said. The woman looked back at Benno for a beat, inscrutable, then snorted loudly, hocked deeply, and spat a loogie onto the pavement. Forget it, she said, stepping out of the doorway and starting off down the street. Hey. Benno hurried up next to her. Whats your name? The woman ignored him. Were you a student of mine? Benno had to walk fast to keep up, despite the womans short stature. Just tell me your name, Im sure Ill remember. The womans eyes were hidden behind her bangs. Come on. Benno touched her arm with the outside of his hand. Obviously you want me to know who you are, otherwise you wouldnt have waited out here in the cold for two hours. So just tell me. Or at least give me a hint. The woman sneered and walked faster. Okay so you werent a student. Bennos breath labored from the exertion of keeping pace and the recent cigarette. Did we meet somewhere? A bar? I blacked out at some beer garden in Beacon last summer. Were you there? Just go home, the woman said. Enough. Benno took hold of her arm, swinging her around to face him. How do I know you? How do you know me? She looked up at him from her old eyes from beneath her jagged bangs, and a tight grin cut her face, exposing a gold tooth that glistened in the streetlamp overhead. And in that light, her tooth glinting, her eyes deeper and darker than the rest of her, Benno did remember her, somehow, from somewhere, maybe, though he couldnt place it Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Hey! Brookes voice rang out. Benno startled, releasing the womans arm as he turned. Whats going on? Brooke asked, swaying as she came up the sidewalk. Benno looked back at the womanbut she was already gone, and when he looked up the street he saw a glimpse of her long skirt vanish around the corner. Hello? Brooke swatted Bennos shoulder. Did you hear me? Benno nodded, still looking at the corner where the street turned away. An old student? Why wouldnt she just say that? She was too young to be a past lover. Maybe someones daughter? He paged through his memories, but he was baffled, and a little drunk, and nothing was coming. So who is she? Brooke crossed her arms, her eyebrows aloft. I dont know. Really? Thats the best youve got? She knows me, but I dont know her. Brooke scoffed and shook her head. Youre a piece of shit. She turned and huffed off in the direction of the car. Benno looked at the corner. An old student. But he wouldve remembered her if she was one of his high schoolers. Hed taught in the elementary school for a few years before Nick was born. If the woman was in her early twenties, the numbers might add up. But why wouldnt she just tell him? A dull pit tightened in Bennos stomach. Why wouldnt she just tell him? What was he not remembering? Are you serious? Brooke called, halfway down the block. Benno rubbed his face. It didnt matter. Just an old student playing games with him. That was her problem, not his. Benno wouldnt waste another second thinking about her. He started after Brooke, digging his hands deep into his pockets, satisfied that as he went, he was already starting to forget the encounter all together. # Brooke refused to speak to Benno for the entire drive until, as they took the exit into Shrinekill, he offered to drop her off at her place. I might as well just come over, she said, her tongue sounding too big for her mouth. Honestly I dont even remember why Im mad at you. Recipient had killed a mouse in the hallway. Its head was removed, and its organs spilled from the hole of its neck like an exclamation. Its little heart, nestled inside the beige coil of its entrails, continuedinexplicablyto twitch, despite the long hardened pool of blood in which it all lay. Muscle spasms, Benno reasoned. The tissue in the muscles contracting from the heat of the radiator, or the cold floors, or the moisture in the air Theres something wrong with that fucking cat, Brooke slurred on her way to the bedroom as Benno scooped the mouse carcass into a plastic bag. They fell asleep watching TV, and Benno had a dream from which he awoke feeling damp and ferrous but about which he remembered nothing. It was still the middle of the night, but a vague nausea and the inklings of a ferocious headache prevented him falling back to sleep. His stomach ached. He tried to shit but couldnt. He showered in the dark, then flicked on the light and wiped at the foggy mirror to get a look at himself. There was a swatch of gray hair behind his ears hed never noticed before. His cheeks were sunken. The skin beneath his chin was starting to sag, and the lines around his eyes and mouth were deep enough that he could slide his fingernail through them. When he turned sideways he found his abdomen protruded rudely just below his ribcage. He was only thirty-eight. He didnt look good for thirty-eight. He fixed a whiskey and sat on the sofa in the small living room while Recipient prowled along the sofas seat back, his coarse hair grating occasionally along Bennos neck. Benno took long swigs of whiskey until his hands settled. It was hours until sunrise. He was behind on grading tests. He had a lab to put together for his sophomores. He still needed to get online and sync up his credit cards to auto-pay on all the bills. There was a speeding ticket from August that was probably overdue. The sink in the kitchen could use a dose of Drain-o. Recipient stalked along the sofa. Bennos stomach gurgled. His phone buzzed. He squinted at the suddenly bright screen. Kay. Kay was calling him. Benno didnt want to talk to Kay right now. He didnt want to talk to anyone. He set the phone down and looked off through the doorway into the kitchen, where the clock on the stove read 3:18 a.m. Kay was calling him. She was calling him at 3:18 a.m He dropped his whiskey on the table and answered. Hello? The dull hum of many people speaking and moving about. The shout of a siren. A car door slamming. Benno? Kays voice, distant at first, swam closer. Benno? Bennos feet were cold. He curled his bare toes against the floor. Whats wrong? Something happened. Kays voice, laced with misery, was the most familiar sound in the world. Benno something happened. # A knot of emergency vehicles blocked the street. Benno left his car in front of a hydrant and hurried toward the house without shutting the door behind him. Blue and red lights convulsed against the low clouds. There was a smell like iron in the air. Kay stood alone on the brittle grass of the front lawn, her jacket zipped up to her chin, her dark hair askew with interrupted sleep. When she saw Benno she took a slow breath, then met him as he panted up the sidewalk. Where is he? Benno scanned the officers loitering by their cruisers and the sparse crowd of pajama-clad onlookers, purple in the wash of flashing lights. Hes okay, Kay said, and then, because she couldnt help herself: You reek. Where did it happen? In the backyard. We got a fire pit. She adjusted her jacket up higher around her chin. Now theres a bullet hole in the side of the shed. Was he alone? What was he doing? Kays eyes swam over Bennos face. Youre gonna have to talk to the police. Why cant you just tell me? No. I mean theyre gonna want to talk to you. She pointed over Bennos shoulder. Benno turned. An officereasily ten years younger than Bennostepped up to the curb, his gloved hands folded at his waist. Are you the father? Im Nicks father. Can you step over here? Benno looked back at Kay. Her dark eyes swam with purple light. Benno felt, for just an instant, that something passed between them. Deep underground, choked and starved for sun. But she was already turning away. The officer ushered Benno into the middle of the street. You own a firearm, the officer said, his breath billowing in the red and blue light. Yes. What kind? Its a Smith & Wesson. Model 19. It was my dads. And your son has access to it? Its been locked in a safe. In the closet in my apartment. I dont know when the last time I took it out was. Years ago. Does your son know the combination? Benno shook his head. The combination. Benno couldnt even remember it. He squinted his eyes shut. Six digits. A date. A birthday. Nicks birthday. The password to the safe was Nicks birthday. Benno exhaled and wiped his lips. He mightve been able to guess it. The officer nodded. Is he in trouble? The officer looked up at the simmering sky. Hes lucky. His friend was a few feet to the right. Couldve been different With negligent discharges like this, no injuries, in a private residence, its usually a misdemeanor. But because there were drugs Drugs? And alcohol. What kind of drugs? Marijuana. It complicates things. Is he going to jail? Hell spend the rest of the night at the station. You or your wife can come with him. Should I call a lawyer? Thats up to you. Hes a minor so it goes to family court. Usually theres a fine. Community service. A judge might order you to take a safe ownership course. Benno wiped his lips again. They felt waxy and dry at the same time. He looked around at the purple street, trying to find Nicks face among the heads and bodies, which all seemed to be facing away from him. When he couldnt, he returned his focus to the officer. Do you have kids? he asked. A girl, the officer said. Almost two. Benno nodded slowly, as if thinking hard on this. The officer cleared his throat. You should start thinking about a new combination. # By the time Benno got back to his apartment the sun had almost set. Brooke had left a note on the coffee table in the living room: Called you a hundred times. I dont think this is working anymore. Benno looked at his phone. A hundred was an exaggeration, but not by much. He thumbed out a textFamily emergency call you tomorrowand sent it off, then tossed his phone onto the sofa and trudged down the hall to the bedroom, the plastic bag with his fathers revolver and the loose bullets clinking off his thigh as he went. He opened the safe and stared into the dark, empty compartment. Late light boiled into the space between the blinds and the windowsill, filling his periphery with fiery orange. For the first few years of Nicks life, Benno had lived in a constant state of heightened vigilance. When he became a parent, the worlds hidden dangers bared themselvesdangers he had walked past, oblivious, his whole life. That quiet man with the acne scars loitering outside the supermarket day after day? A predator determined to rip his child to shreds. That Honda with the tinted windows that parks on the corner every weekend? A drug dealer with a target on his back and a hail of bullets in his future. The corner of that table in the den? A jagged knife. That heavy door to the garage? An amputator. The staircase? Gallows. That plastic bag, lozenge, Lego? Smotherers. Suffocators. Quiet little monsters. But as Nick got older, the dangers had recededor at least Bennos awareness of them had receded. Hed sunken back into obliviousness, and then even further, losing sight not only of the quiet little monsters, but of the loud and hulking ones. Like a gun. A fucking gun. How could Benno have let this happen? How could he so completely have looked away? He set the gun and the palmful of bullets in the safe. He should just get rid of the fucking thing. He would never use it. He didnt ask for it. But the thought of selling it or leaving it at the police station filled him with a bewildering anxiety. There hadnt been anything else from his father. No money, no letter, no keepsakes of any kind. Just an old revolver. Without it, there was nothing. He closed the safe and dragged his fingernails through the deep lines around his eyes. Six digits. Kays birthday was out, as was Bennos. Nick would try Brookesand Benno didnt even know it for that matter. No, birthdays were no good. Something random. Just a random six digit number. But he would have to memorize it, and his memory wasnt great these days But there was a number. A six digit random number which, for some reason, was as clear and as permanent in Bennos mind as his own name. He followed the reset instructions on the inside of the safes door, then tapped in the new combination on the keypad. 266362 A number. It meant nothing, and yet there it was. There was no reason to write it down anywhere and risk Nick finding it, because it was couched deep in the folds of Bennos unreachable brain. Where had it come from? Benno shut the closet door and stood at the window. He considered raising the blinds and looking out at the setting sun, but some fearsome baffling fear of what might be out there, pulsing and bleeding over the horizon What was that? What on earth was that thought? Benno was exhausted. His mind was goo. His stomach burned. He needed to sleep. He went to the kitchena kitchen that felt like someone elses in an apartment that would never be his homeand found he was out of whiskey. Recipient looked down at him from his perch atop the cabinets. The triangle on his collar reflected a sooty darkness, and the hot orange flicker of a flame. Not this room, Benno thought. Not this place. His hands shook insistently as he pulled on his coat to make the long walk to the liquor store. [Part III - Traum] Chapter 20 - Brother, Respire Brooke found out she was pregnant the same week Benno was diagnosed with stomach cancer. At thirty-nine, Benno was too young. Too young to be a father again. Too young for the diagnosis. Too young for everything. What do you want to do? he asked, holding Brookes hand from the hospital bed where they were keeping him for an overnight after his second endoscopy. It was ridiculous. He felt fine. He could go home. What do you mean? I mean He chewed his tongue around his mouth, suddenly sand dry. I guess I mean what do you want me to do? Brooke squeezed Bennos hand with both of hers. Just get better. She used to look like Kay. A younger Kay. But shed aged into all the differences, and now she didnt look like anyone. She was a stranger. Benno wanted to go home. So what do you think? he asked. Got any names? Brooke smiled and looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling. There was a poppyseed in her teeth. I like Horace if its a boy. Its kind of vintage. I had a cat named Horus, the Egyptian spelling. Growing up. Really? He had one eye. Brooke frowned. I thought Recipient was your only cat. No Benno started, then trailed off. Recipient was Bennos only cat. There had never been a one-eyed cat named Horus. Where the Hell had he come up with that? There was only Recipient, the big son of a bitch, for as far back as Benno could remember Horus? It must be residual effects from the sedative. Do you need a nurse? Hm? Benno looked up from his palm. No. Just ready to leave. Brooke patted Bennos arm. Soon enough. A monotone voice spoke from the intercom in the hallway outside the room, but Benno could not make out what it said. # His older brother had a nice house. Advertising money. Benno had been there once before, right after Nick was born, for an obligatory uncle-nephew introduction. But other than that hed only seen Oscar once in the last sixteen years, at their fathers funeral. They shook hands on the front steps of the large three story home nestled on a quiet cul-de-sac just over the Connecticut border. The handshake lasted longer than Benno anticipated. You look good, Benno said. I feel alright. Back to running. A crow shrieked from a bough in the woods behind the house. This is surprising. Benno pointed to the mezuzah on the doorframe. Oscar shrugged. Just trying things out. Come in. Bennos gums flooded with bile as he stepped into the house. It was a symptom either of the cancer or of the chemo. Other symptoms included fatiguestaggering fatigueand relentless constipation, and the further thinning of his already thinning hair, and a worsening suspicion that it wasnt worth it, that he was arguing with an earless, mouthless, mindless executioner on a strict schedule. How are you feeling? Oscar asked as he let the heavy door fall softly shut. Benno shrugged. Like I have cancer in my stomach. You dont look great. You should see the footage from my endoscopies. Oscar folded his lips into something approximating a smile. Lets sit. You want something to drink? Whiskey, if you have it. Oscars brow bent sharply. Do your doctors know youre drinking while undergoing chemotherapy? You gonna snitch on me? Oscar shrugged with a bewildered flair, then gestured to the long sofa in the sitting room, where a row of windows overlooked the wet woods and a painting over the fireplacewhich appeared never to have been useddepicted a sprawling emerald city. Is Kevin here? Benno asked, breathing through a stomach cramp as he sat. Oh. Oscar turned from the drink cabinet. He, uh God its been so long since you and Ive talked. We got divorced. Like six years ago. Shit. Benno drummed his knuckles on the sofas velvety cushions. Me and Kay, too. You dont say. Oscar dropped a few ice cubes into a glass and poured in a scant serving of whiskey. Hows Nick? Hes I think hes a good kid. Also, my girlfriends pregnant. Jesus. I mean, congratulations. Oscar handed Benno his whiskey and sat across from him. How far along? A few months. A girl. So you really gotta fight here, dude. Benno sipped. Oscar smoothed at the salt and pepper hair above his ear. It doesnt make sense, Benno said after awhile. What doesnt? That Im gonna die. Oscar knitted his brow. Youre not necessarily gonna die But Im dying. I could die. I probably die. I die eventually. And it doesnt make sense. Something off in the house clicked. You can beat this, Oscar said. But in general, everyone dies, Benno. Somehow, sooner or later. Everyone dies. Benno tapped an uncut fingernail on his whiskey glass. I know thats whats supposed to happen. I know it happens to everyone else. But I think, deep down, I thought Id be the one to avoid it. I mean, how could I die? The world doesnt exist without me. I know you think it does, but as far as I can tell, theres nothing if Im not here to see it. So if I die, the worlds just gonna end. It doesnt make sense Oscar peered at his little brother. Solipsism is a young mans sport, he said. Youre what now? Thirty-nine? A crow laughed outside, muted by the heavy glass of the long windows. You know, its kind of serendipitous, Oscar said finally. What is? That you called me. That youre here. Why? Ive been going through some old shit dad left me. Benno thought about the revolver in the safe, and imagined pressing its muzzle to his temple, pulling the trigger What kind of shit? Photos, mostly. Old family photos. Some letters, too. Anything good? Oscar nodded, noncommittal. Ill show you. If youre interested. Benno shrugged. He wondered about his dead fathers thought process in leaving Oscar a collection of family photographs and Benno a gun. With the former, one could recollect, recall, reclaim. With the latter, one could what? Harold Haim was not the kind of man to sort things arbitrarily; his whole life was dedicated to imbuing meaning into every nook and cranny of every object and gesture. Everything meant something. What did Bennos father mean here? Oscar left the room and then returned with a cardboard box, which he set on the coffee table. From it he withdrew a tattered green folder. I just pulled it out of the attic a couple days ago. Right before you called. I dont know why. Benno took the folder and opened it on his lap. The first photo was of him, Oscar and their father, seated at a dining table he vaguely recognized during what appeared to be a Passover seder. Benno mightve been fifteen, Oscar eighteen. Perched on the counter in the background, Recipient stared out through the sliver of a dark doorway, the triangle on his collar reflecting a sooty dark. The photo stirred nothing in Benno. Theyd participated in Passover maybe three times in his lifeeach time for the sake of assuaging an incessant relativethe one pictured here likely being the last. He set it aside and massaged his abdomen. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. The next was of his father, mid-thirties, mustachioed, his hair oily and wild, his eyes exhausted and bewildered, a cigarette in his mouth and books piled behind him, holding a newborn nestled in a blanket in the crook of his arm. Is that you or me? Benno asked. Me, Oscar said. That was the old house. In Putnam. I was never there. No. Benno set the picture aside. The next was older, the coloring muted and grainylate seventies. A little girl, no older than eight, standing on the grass of a front lawn. She wore a blue dress imprinted with gold stars, her black bangs cut low over her eyes. On one hand, tucked furtively at her side, the middle finger was extended. She sneered. Is this Yeah. Benno tilted the photo away from the glare from the long windows. When I saw that picture, I kind of understood, Oscar said. I mean, not to diminish anything, but look at her face. Thats not a girl whos growing into a compromising woman. When we were born, she had to postpone her studies, put everything on pause. And at some point, after enough years of sacrificing half of her attention to us, I guess she decided shed sacrificed enough. Benno nodded slowly, a strange envy dueling with his relentless nausea. The whole thing was pretty fucked up, Oscar went on, looking off at a vague angle. I was so mad at her for so long I never really thought about it until much later. Fifteen years younger than dadhis student for gods sakepregnant at twenty. It really was a different time. Still it wasnt that different. The odds were probably better that I wasnt born than was. And you especially. But something made her go ahead with it, and here we are. He shrugged. So I dont know. I dont really blame her, after all. Look at the next one. Benno took another second with the little girl in the photo, whose simple sneer convinced him of a whole lifea consciousness as full as histhat Benno had never been given the opportunity to know. He wasnt sure he agreed with his brother. What was the point of bringing them into the world, raising them into half-formed peoplejust old enough to know theyd been abandonedand then leaving? Bennos stomach roiled, but with a different kind of pain than the pain of his illness. His breath was bitter in his own nostrils. He set the photo aside, and for a moment stared at the next photo, his eyes seeing but his mind failing to process. Then his throat tightened, and his feet went cold. She was about twenty three there. Twenty three or twenty four. Oscar pointed vaguely toward the photo in Bennos lap. Thats me in the high chair. She mustve been pregnant with you. Barely pregnant. Benno stared at the womans eyes. Ive seen her he said. Oscar scoffed. No shit. No, I mean I saw her Benno squinted at the photo so that his eyelashes obscured it in trellised shadow. I saw her Last year, the year before In a bar upstate Oscars lips folded into a line and he sat back slowly. She talked to me. The photo fluttered in Bennos hands. She asked if I remembered her She looked She looked just like she does here Dude. Oscars voice was soft, as if speaking to a distraught child. Youre confused. Benno shook his head, his eyes locked on the womans eyes. Eyes much older than the face in which they were set. This photo was taken in eighty-nine, Oscar said. Shed be, what, sixty-something now? Not to mention that, I mean, Benno Shes living on the other side of the world, if shes alive at all. Do you know that? What? That shes living on the other side of the world? Oscar exhaled through his teeth. No. No one does. She told dad she was recruited to a research team, but back when we were looking for her we found out there was no team. There was a plane ticket to Egypt and that was it. She wanted to disappear, and she did. So no, I dont know where she is. But I bet shes not hanging out in a bar upstate. And even if she was, she wouldnt look like that anymore. He was silent for several seconds. You just saw someone who looks like her. That makes sense, right? Benno stared at the eyes. Hed seen this woman. Hed recognized her, but couldnt place it. He couldnt place it because he hadnt seen her since he was fifteen. Because shed disappeared. Because shed left Are you okay? Oscar reached halfway across the table and tented his fingers on its glass surface. You should have some water. Bennos stomach cramped, and he grimaced. No. He started to stand, swayed, and then righted himself. Im not confused. I saw her. She had tattoos on her face. Hieroglyphs and shit. She knew me. She asked if I knew her Benno tossed the folder toward the table. But he missed and it landed on the floor, the photos scattering on the carpet. Oscar stood as Benno weaved around the furniture toward the foyer. Youre leaving? Bennos stomach cramped and his gums flooded with bile. He wasnt confused. Hed seen her. There was no question. Hed seen her Benno! The low sun cut over the tops of the trees and into Bennos eyes as he lurched down the front steps. He wasnt confused. It was an impossibilitya terrible impossibilitybut it was undeniable. His shoes slipped on the bottom step and he landed strangely on his ankle. But he didnt feel it, because the pain in his stomach and the panic in his mind overwhelmed any other sensation. He wasnt confused. He didnt feel the hollow click in his ankle as he threw open his car door and climbed inside. He didnt hear his brothers voice calling from the house, or the crows howling from the branches. He didnt see anything but a pair of eyes, older than him. He didnt know how it could be, but it was. He wasnt confused. # Benno didnt know if it was the same bartender. He remembered an old woman with glasses, but it could have been his memory and the gray wastes of time playing tricks on him. This one was a man, maybe a couple years younger than Benno, with a freckly nose and a mousy disposition. He hunched over behind the bar, straining to attach a keg to the tap nozzle. When Benno approached he stood, wrinkled his nose at some discomfort in his back, and forced a warm nod. What can I get you? he asked. Benno glanced at the booth where he and Brooke had sat two years earlier, then over at the stool at the bar where the woman had sat, looking at him. No, Im not here to Actually Ill have a whiskey. Jack Daniels, double and neat. But I also have a question. The bartender set to work on Bennos drink. Yeah, whats that? Last time I was here there was a woman. She was sitting right there. Young, in her twenties. Benno cursed himself for failing to take the photo from Oscars house. She had tattoos on her face. Face tats, huh? The bartender set Bennos drink on the bar top. I only work weekends, so if it wasnt It was a Tuesday. Before Thanksgiving. Two years ago. Two years ago? She mustve been pretty. He stooped down and took up another attempt to attach the nozzle. Shes not a regular, I can tell you that. Id know a pretty girl with face tats if she came in even once in awhile. But a Tuesday two years ago, that woulda been my Ma working. Dont think shell be much help, but youre welcome to ask her. Where could I find her? Benno asked, then gritted his teeth to conceal a grimace as his stomach cramped and turned. The man jerked his head toward the back of the bar. Shes in the office. Through the door thats not a bathroom. Benno threw his whiskey back, then fished his debit card from his pocket and set it on the bar. Bile tore up his esophagus. His sneakers stuck vaguely to the bars sticky linoleum floor as he headed into the back. There were three doors. Two were marked as restrooms. The third was metal, with a crash bar and an EXIT sign hung above it. Benno glanced back at the bartenderthe top of his head just visible over the rim of the bar top as he struggled with the nozzlethen hit the crash bar and stepped into darkness. The only light was from the blue glow of a laptop monitor open on the desk. Before it, a woman sat, an old woman with enormous glasses that magnified her two huge, dilated pupils into cavernous discs. Benno recognized her instantly as the bartender who had been working the last time he was here. She looked up as the door swung shut with a clang, her eyes searching for a moment before finding him. Who are you? she asked, her voice hoarse. Benno pointed a thumb back over his shoulder. The guy out thereyour son, I guessthought maybe you could help me. The woman blinkeda slow, exaggerated movement in the thick lensesand then sat back. The chair beneath her scraped on the floor, producing a sound like a chain dragging on concrete. Help you with what? Im looking for someone. Benno took a step into the room, which he began to notice smelled powerfully and distinctly of body odor. A woman. She was here when I was here. It was a long time ago, two years ago. Thanksgiving. You were working. You gave me a cigarette. The old womans glasses reflected the laptops light, and her gaping eyes swallowed it up. Dont remember you, she said. Thats okay, Benno said. Maybe you remember the woman Im looking for. She had face tattoos. Egyptian symbols, hieroglyphs. She was drinking a beer at the bar, near the window. He combed his memory. She had a gold tooth. The old woman peeled her glasses off her face. Benno was shocked at how much smaller her eyes appeared without them, so small they seemed almost deformed, inset in a bloated face. She a friend of yours? Benno nodded, his jaw tightening with disappointment, then shook his head. I think I think shes my mother. The old woman huffed. Then I cant help ya. Girl Im thinking of mustve been half your age. Got the Egyptian tattoos and everything, but couldnt be your motherunless you look real bad for a ten year old. Thats her, Benno said, his heart kicking up in his chest. Thats her. And I misspoke. I didnt mean mother. I meant my daughter. The womans small eyes narrowed into points. Maybe, she said. She placed a knurled hand on the laptops screen and dragged in halfway closed, muting the already muted light. I remember her though. No way were thinking about different people. Came in here everyday for about a week, like you said about two years ago. Right around Thanksgiving. Sat and drank beer from opening until closing. Do you know her name? Benno found himself leaning forward at an angle, as if drawn by some anticipatory force. His heart clipped against his ribs. The old woman shook her head, her jowls waggling. Didnt talk much. I remember thinking she might be in some kind of trouble. Whys that? She seemed a bit nervous. Would turn and look at the door every time someone came in. And she was always alone. I mean, sometimes some of the regulars would get enough courage in them to try and strike up a conversation, but she would shut it down with silence. Bennos palms sweated. What else can you tell me about her? Not a whole lot. She stopped coming in as soon as she started. Bennos eyes searched the offices dark corners. There must be something he said as if to himself. If she was here every day, there mustve been something The old woman closed the laptop further, plunging herself and the room into near total darkness. You know, youre lucky, she said. Benno felt a terrible draft of deja vu hum through him. Instinctively he back-stepped, his hand feeling blindly for the doors handle. Lucky, lucky The womans voice was raspy and low. Because there is something. What? Benno asked, too quietly. She had one of those little red books. She kept her money in it. Books? Those AA books. That tell you where you can find meetings. Must notve been taking it too seriously since she was in here drinking beer all day, but she had one. Bennos hand found the handle, his thumb toying along the aluminum. There are a few around here I know of. But if I had to bet, Id say she was going to the Serenity Group up at Graylock. It meets at four in the afternoon. The old woman reset her glasses, which glinted in the meager light. That was the only time she would leave the bar. Four to five. Everyday. There was a dimple in the aluminum door handle just beneath Bennos middle finger. Its funny, the woman said. From here you look like youre asleep. But my eyes arent good. And of course you arent Of course The dimple had nearly perfectly matching dimensions to the pad of Bennos finger. Go ask up there, the woman said. Maybe youll get even luckier. Benno strained on the handle, and the door gave to a rush of orange light. Thank you, he said, backing out of the room. Then again, the woman said, her huge eyes, now swallowing the orange light, seeming to bore into Benno, her voice crooked with some kind of humor Benno couldnt grasp. Maybe you are asleep. Benno hurried back through the bar, the floor clawing at the soles of his feet. Hey! the bartender called as Benno spilled out onto the street. Your card! But Benno didnt hear him. He heard only his own blood echoing through the channels of his body, and a raspy voice lilting with mockery. Lucky Lucky [Part III - Traum] Chapter 21 - An Easier Softer Way The parking lot was empty when Benno arrived, and the front door of the church locked. He got back in his car, where he experience a series of painful dry heaves that left him bleary eyed and dizzy, then got out and paced up and down the path that meandered from the churchs entrance and through a rock garden to the back of the building. At about twenty to four, a car pulled up beside Bennos, and a man climbed out. He smiled warmly as he approached Benno. At the same moment, Bennos phone vibrated. He glanced at it. Nick was calling. Benno thumb hesitated over the phones glass. Afternoon, the man said. You a friend of Bills? Benno returned the phone to his pocket. Im sorry? Bill. The man gestured to the church. You here for the meeting? Oh. Well Im Mark. The man extended a hand, which Benno shook, distinctly aware that his own palm was clammy. Come on in, you can help me set up. No Im not Im actually looking for someone. Mark frowned. A woman. I think she might come here. To this meeting. Ah. Mark stepped around Benno and continued up the path. Dont know her. I havent even Its called Alcoholics Anonymous for a reason, my friend. Benno followed him. Shes in her twenties. Dark hair, bangs. She has face tattoos of Egyptian hieroglyphs. Mark stopped and turned, his brow furrowed sharply. My God, I forgot all about her. Its been two years His eyes swam up toward the gray sky. Youre talking about Rosie. Bennos heart bled into the sea of his stomach. The man grimaced and smacked his forehead. Goddammit, he said. That just slipped right out of me. Do you know where I can find her? That I do not. The man fished a keychain from his pocket and started on the churchs door. And even if I did, I wouldnt tell you. Ive already violated the poor girls anonymity. Benno swallowed bile. Please, he said. Please, I need to find her. Why? Benno considered his options. Shes my daughter, he decided. I think shes in trouble. Mark straighten up and turned around. What kind of trouble? I dont know. Bennos toes flexed inside his shoes. She disappeared. No one knows where she is. Ive been looking for her for For a while. This is the best lead I have. Are the police involved? Benno nodded, then shook his head. Theyre not being helpful. Mark chewed this over. This is pretty counterintuitive for me, he said. Giving up a member of the fellowship. But if shes in danger There is someone you can talk to. Her old sponsor. Dont know if theyre still in touch, but she might know something that could be helpful to you. Thank you, Benno said. Behind him, a car rolled into the lot. How can I find her? Mark looked over Bennos shoulder and nodded. Speak of the devil. Benno turned. A silver BMW had parked nearby, its exterior so clean it reflected the church in a near perfect facsimile. Its engine cut off, and its door opened, and a tall woman emerged. Her long hair was so gray it appeared nearly blue in the afternoon light. She wore a gray pantsuit and gray dress shoes and a pair of large, mirror sunglasses. Her lips were dark, and when she flicked the nub of her cigarette onto the pavement, its butt was smeared with dark green lipstick. Hey, Edie, Mark waved. This guys looking for an old sponsee of yours. Little Rosie. Says hes her father. The woman, Edie, stood, unmoving and inscrutable at her car for long enough that Benno started toward her. As he neared, his nostrils filled with an aroma of lilacs and sandalwood that stirred another bout of unsettling deja vuthe second of the day. Benno stopped a few feet away. Edies glasses reflected a miniature version of him, which compounded his sudden sense of being quite small before this woman who was easily a foot taller than him. Im hoping you can help me, Benno said. Im looking for You must be Benno, Edie said, her voice smokey and lilting at once. I was wondering when youd show up. She removed her sunglasses, revealing a pair of bright brown eyes that flashed briefly over Bennos shoulder to confirm that Mark was out of earshot. I knew your mother well. # She made him stay for the meeting before she would speak to him further. Benno had never attended an AA meeting. He had no reason to. And even if he did, it was impossible to pay attention with the anticipation of his impending conversation with Edie about his mother. His mother None of this made sense. Benno wasnt stupid. He was sick, he was tired, he was dizzied and frazzled and perturbed by the chemo and the cancer. But he was lucid. He knew what he saw and what he heard. It didnt make sense, but there was no other explanation. A man with a glass eye was telling a story about a car accidentan accident hed caused while intoxicatedthat left a teenager bound to a wheelchair. When Benno was fifteensoon after his mother disappearedhed walked in on his father in his studyits walls plastered with layers of scribbled diagrams, triangles upon triangles, a desperate effort to map meaning over a meaningless landcrying in the dark and standing on his hands in the rooms dark corner No. That hadnt happened. Where had that bizarre thought come from? Benno pressed his thumbs to his temples. He was lucid. He was just tired. He was just a little perturbed. When the meeting ended, Benno waited just outside the church for Edie. He needed a drinknow after listening to all these alcoholics complain about their sobriety more than everbut was afraid to seek out a bar or liquor store in case Edie was gone when he returned. He dug his fists into his pockets to control and conceal his shaking, and focused on taking slow breaths. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. When Edie finally emerged, it was nearly dark, and starting to rain. Im driving, she said, starting for her shiny BMW. Benno shuffled after her, taking two steps for every one of hers. Where are we going? I need to eat. Edie climbed inside her car and slammed the door. The cars headlights flared on, revealing the long raindrops cutting down. Bennos phone vibrated in his pocket. Without removing it he thumbed at its edge until it stilled, then crossed through the headlightsbriefly mistaken that in doing so would result in him getting wetterand folded himself into the car. # Edie ate a cheeseburger with meticulous ferocity. Benno tried not to stare at her, gazing instead at the diners window, through which the mostly empty parking lot and the neon signs of the fast-food joints and after-hours businesses melted together into bleary light in the rivulets of rain on the glass. A TV over the dessert counter played a compilation of NASCAR crashes, each one more fiery and spectacular than the last. You can get a drink, Edie said eventually, wiping between her fingers with a greasy napkin and discarding the napkin onto her empty plate. Benno looked at her with what he instantly deemed a conspicuously forced naivety. Believe it or not, I know the signs. Edie waved down a waiter. The shaking, the fidgeting, the bloodshot eyes. Plus you stink like booze. A waiter appeared. What can I get you? Edie lifted an eyebrow at Benno. Benno drummed his fingers on his thigh. Jack Daniels. Double. Neat. The waiter went off to fetch it. So howd you find me? Edie asked. Bennos stomach pinched and throbbed. I got lucky, I guess. Edie nodded slowly, as if this meant anything at all. You look just like her. None of this makes sense. Where is she? Benno asked. I dont know. Edie slid her plate away and sat back. I havent seen her in two years. You must know something. She showed up here out of nowhere. First meeting she came to I could tell she was struggling. I used to struggle too, so I know it when I see it. I took her under my wing, gave her a place to stay. We went through the Big Book together. For a few weeks she hardly told me anything about herself. I speculated, privately. A young woman like that, pretty, showing up out of the blue. I figured maybe human trafficking. Abusive boyfriend. Cult victim. Didnt matter. In the rooms, were all just alcoholics, and I wanted to help her. Now Im no idiot, I knew she was still drinking. Its a small town, you cant keep a lot of secrets around here. And typically that would be enough for me to kick a sponsee to the curb. But with Rosie There was something about her. I felt like she was clinging to a cliff. Like if she wasnt working a programeven if it wasnt in sobriety, even if it was more imperfect than usualthat she would lose her grip and fall to her death. So I broke my own rule and stuck with her. And over time she opened up to me. She told me where shed been and how she ended up here. Of course I didnt believe a word of itno one would. At least at first. But then she showed me Edie turned to the glistening window. Then one day she just disappeared. Left town as fast as shed arrived. And that was it. The waiter returned with Bennos whiskey. Tell me, Benno said, the whiskey shivering in his hand. Tell me everything. Edies brown eyes coruscated in the diners fluorescence. Okay, she said. Bennos peripheries conjured two distinct realms: a NASCAR track littered with smoldering debris, and the neon lights of the restaurants and stores widening and blooming beyond the rain-soaked window into a distant and curious garden. # Benno had a vivid dream: A set of pared eyes looked up at him from the dark, their tumescent whites reflecting the guttering of a weak candle. The stench of unwashed skin and human waste was intolerable. Recipients forlorn shadow haunted the unknowable floor. A hand appeared in the fluttering ring of candlelight. Beige, fingernail-less. It held a small red bean. Not a bean. A heart. A mouse heart, which twitched and bled an endless stream into the small flame. SOON a Voice said, genderless, monotone. Benno could not move anything except his eyes. His breathing was steady, but not by his own volition. Even his thoughts, it seemed, were conducted toward the round eyes and the bleeding heart. SOON And from the darkness behind the eyes, a Thud Thd-thud Thd-thud Like a door being beaten in. Thd-thud Thd-thud Thd-thud Then light roared in, and Benno was on his back looking up at Kay. A steady beep kept rhythm overhead. A vinyl curtain cordoned his bed from the rest of the room. Hey, Kay said, her dark hair cordoning half her face, her strong hand clasping Bennos. Hey, Benno said, his voice dry and small. Hey Kay pushed her hair behind her ear. It wasnt Kay. And her hand wasnt strong. It was Brooke, and her hand floated in Bennos like meek water. Kays dead, Benno reminded himself, then, No. Not dead. Were just divorced. Brooke looked down at him oddly, as one might an inscrutable abstract artwork. Whats going on? Benno asked, his senses returning, suddenly distinctly aware of the stiff hospital sheets tangled around his feet and the IV inserted in his forearm, the crowd of vital sign monitors standing guard, the catheter lodged too deep inside him. Hold on. Brooke got up and disappeared around the curtain. Benno massaged his jaw, which ached. In fact, his whole face ached, and his head throbbed, and his neck was tight, and his chest and shoulders were cramping. Had something happened? Why was he here? A surgery, maybe. Or another endoscopy He didnt remember coming in. He tried to recall the last thing he did remember Headlights bearing down on the car. Kays fingernails. Nicks high-pitched scream. Untangling from himself No. No. That was years ago. Nick was only eight when that happenedthe Close Call. Now he was fifteen. The same age Benno had been when his Benno sat up with a bolt of remembrance. In doing so, the IV in his forearm wrenched at his skin and the rack attached to the other end of the line toppled against one of the vital sign monitors, clacking and crashing. At the same momentas if they were the same phenomenathe curtain drew back, and a doctor appeared, followed by Brooke. What are you doing? the doctor demanded. He was young, about Brookes age. Benno tried to swing his legs off the bed, but they were tangled in the sheets. I have to go, he said, finding himself winded. No. The doctor squared up as if Benno was going to rise and charge, then, deciding he wasntor couldnthe approached and placed a hand on Bennos shoulder. That subtle weightmerely a touchwas too much for Benno to withstand, and he collapsed onto his back. Just take it easy. The doctor set about untangling the IV line. Youre not well. How did I get here? Benno asked, looking at Brooke. Wheres Edie? Brookes face soured. Whos Edie? Your blood pressure is very low, the doctor said, eyeing a monitor. Benno tried again to sit up, but this time his shoulders and neck seized up and prevented his back from even leaving the sheets. At the same moment, he began to become aware of the pain in his stomacha different pain than the one hed lived with for the last year. This one was deep and churning, like gears gnashing against each other, and as he exhaled his mouth and nostrils filled with the stench of iron. I just need to grab a nurse. The doctor hurried away, leaving the curtain fluttering. Benno scrunched his eyes shut as a tide of bile rushed up to meet the bloody taste in his sinuses. When it passed, and he opened his eyes, he found Brooke standing over him. Do you want to be here? she asked. Benno shook his head as if he understood the question. You havent answered your phone in days.You missed a chemo treatment. You missed an ultrasound you promised you would be atshes healthy, by the way, if you care. You also missed both your days with Nick. He called me, looking for you. I didnt know what to tell him. Hes struggling, Benno. Not just because of you but its a big part of it, and when you do shit like this it makes it so much worse for him. His mother called me too. That was a an awkward conversation. And then I get a call from a hospital upstate. She gestured around at the room. They find you passed out in a diner bathroom. Passed out drunk. With stage three stomach cancer. I mean I knew you were drinking, but not like that. And I know I know youre scared. But I thought you wanted to fight. I thought you wanted to get better. Now Im not so sure. Benno looked up into the light on the ceiling. So if you dont want to be here, if youre ready to go, just tell me now. Because if Im gonna be doing this alone, I need to get started on that. Benno looked deep into the light. Hes struggling. Not just because of you I dont want to die, Benno said. Brooke nodded slowly. So whats going on? Not just because of you My mother Bennos voice came from a part of his chest that hurt worse than the other parts. Shes alive. Brookes guarded anger dissolved into incredulity. What? Two pairs of sneakers squeaked on the linoleum, and the curtain rustled. Shes alive. And Im going to find her. [Part III - Traum] Chapter 22 - Tombs His stomach was bleeding, and the blood was rising up his esophagus and down into his lungs. The doctors were eager to get him in for surgery as quickly as possible, but not before making him sign a series of papers that essentially swore he would not knowingly sabotage the progress of his treatment moving forward. The operating room had a poster on one wall of a tropical beach dappled in sunlight. A single palm tree listed happily to the side. Out at sea, a dolphin was suspended mid-leap, beads of sparkling water spiraling from its gray skin. Count backward from six for me, the anesthesiologist said, placing a mask over Bennos mouth and nose. Six Benno remembered suddenly he needed to call Nick back. Can I call my son? he asked, the mask stifling his voice. Soon. The anesthesiologist turned a knob on a machine. Its import Bennos vision tapered into darkness. SOON said a monotonous Voice. Benno looked down at the pared, swollen eyes in the dark. I just had this dream, he thought. There was the candle, and the beige hand holding the small heart, which bled into the flame. The unwashed stench. Recipient lurking along the floor. I just had this dream. Benno studied the tumescent eyes. The whites were so swollen that the pupils within were no more than specks. They were so strange, so wrong looking. And yet familiar. Who are you? Benno tried to ask. Why do I keep dreaming about you? The eyes watched him from the dark, betraying nothing. Benno searched the dark space. There were walls just outside the ring of candlelight. Flindering wooden walls, and a dusty wooden ceiling. The floor, Benno could just barely discern, was dirt. Im in a shed. And there was something else. In Bennos armswhich he could not move no matter how hard he strainedsomething heavy. He cradled it like a child. There was hair, and fabric, and papery skin. If he looked down far enough, just over the rim of his eyelids, he could see shapes on it: An eyeball, a cross, a smattering of cursive Im ready to wake up. Benno had no voice. Im ready to get out of here. SOON Im ready to wake up Benno? Benno opened his eyes. Brooke looked down at him. There were crows feet starting to form around her eyes. Benno had never noticed them before. Benno? Are you awake? Yeah Bennos breath was rancid in his mouth. Is it over? Its over. You did good. How do you feel? Bennos legs were stiff, and his throat was sore. But there was no pain. He touched around his abdomen, searching for the suture, then remembered theyd merely stuck a tube down his throat to reach his stomach. It was better that way. It was supposed to be better. No new hole. Just the repurposing of an old one to see you, Brooke was saying. What? Ill go get him. She got up and left. Benno blinked up at the ceiling. There were little pockmarks in the paneling, almost like a distant desert topography. It was likely a product of the anesthesia wearing off, but he was overcome by the sense that he was dreaming, that none of thisthe surgery, the cancer, his conversation with Edie, even Brooke and Kay and Nick and everythingwas real. Hes here. Brookes voice drew Bennos eyes to the door. She stood just behind Nick, holding his shoulder softly, guiding him forward. Benno squinted, disbelieving. It hadnt been that long since hed seen his sonmaybe two weeks, three?and yet he looked so much older. Taller. Thinner. With even a dusting of stubble on his upper lip. When had he stopped being a boy? When had this happened? Hey, Benno said, merely a whisper. Hey, kiddo. Hey. Nicks voice was deep. Come in. Come sit. Benno patted the narrow ledge of bed just to his right. Sit in the chair. Brooke guided Nick to it, and sat him down. Im just going to speak to the doctor. Ill be right back, okay? Thats fine, Benno said before realizing she was addressing Nick. Nick nodded at her as she left, then looked at the floor. He placed his large hands on his knees. For a long time he didnt move. Im okay, Benno said. Nick was so stillhis face angled so far forwardhe might as well have been asleep. Howve you been? Benno urged to reach out and touch his son, but his hand was lodged beneath the sheets, and leaden. Nick shrugged. Hows your mom? Nick shrugged again. Benno looked toward the door. Are you on pain killers? Nick asked then. What? Nick looked up from dark, heavy eyes. Why? Benno asked. Nick looked back down at the floor, and again he shrugged. Listen. Benno managed to tug his hand free from the sheets, and rested his fingertips on his sons wrist. I know it must be scary, watching me going through all this. Im sorry that its happening. My dad was sick too, for a long time. I dont know if you knew that. But I want you to know Im gonna get through it. Im gonna get better. The cancer isnt even that bad, as far as cancer goes. If I had to bet Id say by this time next year I dont care, Nick said. What? Nick looked up. I dont care if you get better or not. I dont give a shit. Bennos stomach churned. Im only here because Brooke asked me to be. You know shes way too good for you. Nick When I showed up at your apartment on Wednesday and you werent there and the door was locked, I called you like five times. Then when it started to rain I had to call mom. She canceled plans to come pick me up. And then on the way back to her house she cried. You guys have been divorced for four years and youre still fucking up her life. Nick stood, the backs of his legs striking the chair and sending it wobbling. So get better or dont get better. I dont give a shit. And Im not sure you do either. Then he turned, and was gone. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Benno blinked up at the pockmarks on the ceiling. When Nick was three years old, he and Benno had started playing a game in the eveningsafter dinner and before bubblebathwhere Benno would stay stock-still, his arms outspread, and Nick would climb up him, gripping his shirt, digging his little bare feet up Bennos legs, until he reached the top, where he would wrap his arms around Bennos neck and bury his face into Bennos hair and giggle. I climbed the Daddy tree! I climbed it! A silly game. Benno would rather have been sitting on the couch after a day of teaching, having a drink. But he played it with Nick because he knew it was importantthe time, the bondingeven if it didnt feel important. Theyd played that game for many, many years. Now, he wondered if Nick had known. If hed known then that his abject joy at such a simply activity was not shared, and if that monstrous betrayal had caused irreparable harm. Brooke returned, her brow creased. What happened? she asked. Benno wrung at the tight sheets. Help me up. The doctors on her way. Benno what happened with Nick? Benno glowered at the pockmarked ceiling. Please. Help me up. # Benno found out his cancer was in remission only two weeks before Brooke was due to give birth. It was the day after his fortieth birthday. It was an unlikely outcome, the doctors said, to a dire situation hed done little to improve. Youre lucky, said the nurse as she doled out his pills. Thats all theyre talking about out there. Lucky, lucky, lucky. A week later, Benno was discharged. As was protocol, he was made to sit in a wheelchair until he was outside the hospitals entrance, when an orderly wheeled it back inside. From there he walked, arm-in-arm with Brooke, through the parking lot. I set up the couch in the den for you, she said, starting the car. Theres that step at the end of the hallway to the bedroom that you should avoid for a few weeks. Benno shook his head. We need to go to Middle Forest. Where? Middle Forest. Brooke frowned. Do you mean Middleton? Benno started to shake his head, then paused. Yeah. Middleton. Sorry. Why? Whats up there? A museum. Benno looked at the hospital in the sideview mirrorgray angles and points of sunlightas the car pulled out onto the road. Benno you need to rest. The car followed the road around a bend, and Benno lost sight of the hospital in the sideview. In its place, a wash of trees. Benno. Benno straightened up in his seat. We need to go to the museum. # Middleton was a sleepy town of red brick buildings and quaint storefronts. As he and Brooke drove slowly down Main Street toward the museuma large white building at the end of the street that looked more like a town hall or a libraryBenno imagined the town must be pretty in the winter, carpeted beneath a layer of snow. He imagined smoke rising lazily from the chimneys of the red brick buildings. He imagined the cars parked along the street, yet to be dug out. He imagined the townspeople gathered together, scared. He imagined a blast of light and heat, and a scalding wind, and smoke rising off a lake of ash I didnt know this place was here, Brooke said, pulling into the museums nearly empty parking lot. A sign forty feet from the buildings entrance read: MIDDLETON MUSEUM OF ART AND ARTIFACT followed by: ALL ARE WELCOME HERE. Benno experienced a bout of deja vuit had been happening so much latelywhich passed as soon as it appeared. Brooke and Benno helped each other make short walk from the car and up the museums front steps, both holding their respective abdomens. Bennos pain was minimal, but he was weak: His legs felt hollow, and as they entered the museums lobby he found he was winded. The lobby was no more than a hallway lined with posters depicting various ongoing or upcoming exhibits: The Real Pirates of the Caribbean; Egypt Unearthed; Land of the Lenape; Revisiting the Work of Nellie George Stearns; etc At the ticket window immediately inside, a young man leaned, scrolling through his phone. He nearly startled when Brooke and Benno entered, and smoothed his blue hair aside from his face. Good morning, he said, then glanced at his phone. Afternoon. Just you two? Brooke glanced at Benno. Actually, were looking for someone, Benno said, trying to conceal his breathlessness, which made it worse. Someone who used to work here. I think in research or curation or something like that. Probably Egyptian stuff. Maybe she still does. The ticket taker continued to smooth his hair. Who? Her name is Rose, Benno said. I dont know if shes going by Rose Haim or Rose Gallant or something else. But I do know she was here. Well I dont know her, the ticket taker said. But Ive only been here a few months. And I havent even met everyone in the back yet. I guess I can go get Teresa for you. Thanks. The ticket taker nodded slowly, visibly regretting his offer, then disappeared from the window, emerged a moment later from a door a little further down the hall, and walked off around a corner. Benno eyed Brooke, who looked off at the posters on the walls. Nothing to say? he asked. Whats there to say? Brooke did not make eye contact with Benno. If your mother is here, or if someone here can help you find her Thats really important. Something squeaked off in the bowels of the museum. Youre not looking at me, Benno said. The back of Brookes head turned minutely, but not enough to reveal her face. No? The ticket taker reappeared from around the corner. With him was a small womanTeresa, Benno assumedwith short gray hair and heavy silver jewelry around her neck, wrists and fingers. She frowned at Benno as she approached. Hello. Benno stepped forward to meet her. Thanks for You know Rose? Teresa asked, slowing to a stop. Now Brooke looked at Benno. Yes. Bennos heart kicked up in his chest. How do you know her? Teresa asked. Benno opened his mouth to answerShes my motherbut of course if Teresa didnt know what Edie had known, then that wouldnt make sense to her. He could tell her she was his daughteras he had with the woman in the back of the barbut then what would Brooke think? Benno had given Brooke an abridged and palatable version of events: Hed seen a woman in a bar who looked like his mother; hed tried to speak to her but shed disappeared before he could; hed spoken to the bartender, who said she might attend an AA meeting nearby; there hed met her old sponsor, who told him she worked at the Middleton Museum of Art and Artifact; then Benno had ended up hospitalized for nearly six months; and now they were here. He made no mention that his mother was the same twenty-something Brooke had caught him talking to outside the bar two years ago, and of course omitted all of what Edie had told himabout Egypt, about the tomb, about the gardens inside of it deep underground, about the thing that lived there, about what happened to his mother when she spoke to it. It was all too much. Brooke wouldnt have believed it. Benno wouldnt have either if he hadnt seen his mother with his own eyes. Younger than him. Reborn twenty-five years ago by a terrible slip of the tongue Shes a relative, Benno said after too long, which warranted another look from Brooke. Teresa raised a silver-leaden hand to her throat. Ive been trying to find someone, she said. A family member, a friendanyone. Ive been looking for two years. The ticket taker lingered by the door to the ticket window, his blue hair flat on his head. Where is she? Benno asked, taking another step toward Teresa. Is she here? Teresa looked at Brooke for a moment, then down at the floor. When she looked back up at Benno, his heart fell, and his stomach churned as if the cancer had returned anew. Im so sorry, she said. Rose is dead. # There was an oil painting hanging on the wall in Teresas office depicting an impressionistic scene of a flower garden, and sculptures on pedestals in the rooms corners, torsos of men and women and intricate hand-carvings of animalsboth familiar and alienposed in shameless displays of bluster. A floor-to-ceiling shelf filled with books was built directly into the wall. She killed herself. Teresa sat behind her large messy desk. She was small in the high-ceilinged room. Here, in the museum. Benno and Brooke sat in matching chairs across from her. Brookes arms extended the distance between the chairs, her soft hand holding Bennos. We didnt know until afterward that shed faked all her paperwork. The police couldnt find a next of kincouldnt find anyone. I tried myself, but after awhile I didnt know where to look. She spoke seldom about herself. She was the most knowledgable Archaeolinguist Ive ever met. Brilliant. And at such a young age Brooke glanced and Benno, who pretended not to notice. Why she would choose to work here of all places, Teresa continued. After the time she spent in Giza, in the field, her contributions She could have worked for the Met, or any university. I figured she just liked the peace and quiet. I didnt know she was so disturbed. In retrospect there were signs. I may have ignored them for selfish reasons As she spoke, Benno looked off at the painting on the wall behind her. From his medium distance, it was barely more than a concatenation of vibrant brush strokes. In fact, there was nothing about it that confirmed its depiction of a garden at all. It could have been anything. And yet Benno knew it was a garden. He knew it was a garden the way he knew the sky was up; not because it was objectively upobjectively a gardenbut because it was up from his vantage. A garden from Bennos vantage. Because it had been put in that context the last time hed seen it. The last time hed seen this painting Are you okay? Benno looked over at Teresa and Brooke, both of whom looked back at him with matching expressions of concern. He nodded, then shook his head, then looked back off at the painting. I think Im asleep, he said, not meaning to say it aloud. I think Im dreaming. Brooke leaned over to him, her other hand joining the first hand on his. Youre pale, she said quietly, as if there was a low enough volume to keep Teresa from overhearing her in their close proximity. I think we should get you home. Theres no such thing Benno murmured. Her remains are at the Everson Family Funeral Home, Teresa said, jotting on a pad. They were kind enough to cremate her, but without burial costs or a family contact, they were not able to bury her She tore the page from the pad and handed it to Brooke. If you decide to have a memorial, please let me know. I will plan to attend. Thank you. Brooke took the page and folded it into her pocket, then returned her attention to Benno. I think you need to rest. This has been a lot. We can call the funeral home on our way back and speak to them about your mother. Does that sound alright? Teresas brow creased. Mother? she asked, looking from Brooke to Benno. No, I think theres been some kind of a mistake. The painting on the wall behind her blurred in Bennos vision. They were flowers. It was a garden. And there was something standing among it, a shape, looking out from the tangle of stems and petals. Benno recognized it, recognized the wide, grinning face. He had known it his whole life, or longer. Or much, much longer Come on, Brooke stood and tugged gently on Bennos arm. Theres been some kind of a mistake, Teresa repeated. The face grinned from the gut of the gardens. Theres no such thing, Benno whispered, rising with the tide of Brookes pull, finding himself light-headed, dizzy, wobbling, and then collapsing into blackness. [Part III - Traum] Chapter 23 - Carnage SOON The eyes looked up. The little heart bled into the guttering flame. Flies buzzed, deafening. Recipient stalked below Bennos feet. SOON # Recipient sat at the foot of the pull-out bed in the small living room, staring at Benno. As Benno came to, Recipient leapt off the bed, strode to the kitchen doorway, stretched, yawned, and disappeared around the doorframe. Benno flexed his ankles. His mouth was so dry that his tongue raked on the crest of his teeth. His stomach ached dully, residual pain from a cancer that had failed to do its job. He remembered fainting in the museum directors office. He remembered coming to soon after, on the offices floor, Brooke kneeling beside him with her phone to her ear. He remembered walking to the car, arm-in-arm with the ticket taker, and being lowered into the passenger seat. He remembered Brooke talking to the doctor while they drove; Are you sure? I can bring him right there If you think thats okay Thank you. He sat up. Again he felt dizzy, but it passed quickly. The doctor said your blood pressure might a little low for awhile, Brooke had told him as she helped him onto the pull out bed. So you need to stay off your feet. Benno lowered his feet off the side of the bed. The salmon-colored carpet was coarse. Who had bought this ugly carpet? After the separationduring the divorceeverything had been such a blur. Benno had needed to find a place quickly, somewhere close to work and commutable for Nick. Hed gone shopping a handful of times for furniture and decor, but hadnt paid much attention to what he was buying. Kay was always the one with the eye for interior decoration. I shouldve gotten a plant, Benno thought, then immediately thought: I already have a plant. Its growing a little blue flower But of course he didnt. There was no plant in his apartment. He was making it up, like everything else. Brooke appeared from the kitchen, carrying a glass of water, milky with some sort of supplement. Can you please lie back down? She asked. She sounded exhausted. Maybe it was the pregnancy. Maybe it was Benno. My back was hurting, Benno said. Ill fix the pillows for you. Brooke set the glass down on the table and adjusted the pillows at the head of the pull-out. Please. She touched his shoulder, firm enough to guide him onto his back, then pulled the sheets up to his neck before he could resist. Im so tired, Benno said as Brooke sat beside him. She folded her hands in her lap. Nick is in his room, she said. I guess Kay is out of town for something, so hes going to be staying here for the rest of the week. I asked him to check on you now and then while Im out, but Im not sure thats going to happen Benno rolled his dry tongue around his mouth. Im so sorry, Brooke said after a span of silence. Im so sorry about your mother. I know you were hoping for something elseanything instead of that. Something clicked and whirred faintly in the other room. Well call the funeral home in a few days. Theres no rush at this point. And you should call your brother too. Whenever youre ready. Brooke adjusted the sheets for no reason. And Im hopingand I know you have a lot to process, and I cant imagine what thats going to be likebut Im hoping that there can be some closure here. I know its always been something that was hanging over you, how could it not be? But maybe in this, I mean after some time, there will be a chance to let it go. And to focus on whats in front of you. On everything you have. She touched her abdomen. You have an opportunity here. An opportunity to get it right. Benno looked at Brooke. She used to look like Kay. I need to run some errands. Brooke stood up. Ill only be a couple hours. If you need something, just call for Nick. She smileda forced, half-pained thingand left, and for some reason that Benno didnt understandthere had been so much of that latelyhe wondered when the last time he would ever see her would be, and if he would know. # Benno watched the room fade gradually into night. The only sound in the apartment since Brooke left was the whir off in some other roomBenno had lived in this apartment for years now and had yet to track down its sourceand the occasional click of Recipients nails on the floor as he stalked some silent prey. His mother was dead. After everything, she was dead. And shed died in a museum an hour north of his town. Killed herself. Benno understood. After everything Edie had told him, he understood. At least that part. The rest Benno wasnt sure he believed it. Who was this womanEdieto tell such a tale? Of course it was all impossible. There were no portals to other realms in the pits of Egyptian tombs. There were no wish granting entities residing there. People were not reborn. The reasonable explanationa reasonable explanationwas that Edie was a liar, or insane. Benno had found her in an AA meeting after all, not that those folks were inherently crazy. It just didnt bode well for the veracity of her story. Which was all it was. A story. And the age thing? Well, it was possible that Rose Haimor Rose Gallantsimply aged well. She would be in her late sixties. It was not impossible she looked younger. Early twenties? Well, with some makeup, the right clothes, a dim streetlight And it didnt matter anyway. She was dead. Bennos mother was dead. She had been dead for twenty-six years. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Benno was dead too, or, at the very least, dying. A sensation had formed in his stomach. At first he mistook it for more residual aching. But it was not. It was hunger. Since his diagnosis hed eaten obligatorilyjust enough to keep himself alive; the thought of food throughout this period was nauseating. But now, lying on his back in the dark living room of his cramped apartment, he was hungry. He had forgotten what hunger felt like. He got carefully to his feet, and there was no dizziness this time. The fridge was empty. He could order. There was a Chinese place that delivered. He and Nick used to order from it once a week. It had been so long since theyd sat down for a meal together. And Nick was here, here in the apartment. Benno indulged a thought as he made his way down the hallway to his sons room: The two of them at the kitchen table, passing containers of noodles and dumplings, their plates overflowing, speaking about thingsmaybeor not, but content, together, like it used to be. Benno had been so distracted, for yearswith the divorce, with Brooke, with the cancer, with one desperate insanity after the nextthat hed lost sight of his only true responsibility. Was it too late? Probably. Did he have an opportunity to get it right? He didnt think so. But he had an obligation to try. He rapped on Nicks closed door. Hey, kiddo. Faint music issued from beyond. Im ordering some Chinese. From Golden House. What do you think? Want to share some chow fun and soup dumplings? Benno didnt recognize the music playing through the door; Nick had never taken to Bennos 90s rock. Nick, Im coming in. Benno rapped again, waited a few seconds, and opened the door. The bedroom was dark and damp, and Benno was assailed by a stench of feces so stringent that his skin broke out in gooseflesh. For a moment his mind convinced him hed entered the wrong roomsome horrible room that wasnt part of his apartment, to which the door had somehow led. But as his eyes adjusted, and the outlines of the rooms furniturethe desk, the dresser, the bed against the far walland Nick himself, lying on his back on the bed, one long arm draped off the edge, his fingers nearly skirting the floora new conviction started to issue forth in Bennos mind. It was half-formed. It was misshapen. It was impossible. Nick Benno waded through the damp room to the side of the bed. Something smells in here He stood over the bed, looking down at the shape of his son. Nick was awake; his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. Benno followed their gaze, as if there might be something up there he needed to see. Nick Nick was awake. His eyes were open. The bed wheezed as Benno climbed onto it, and Nick jounced. He jounced with the compression of the mattress. He did not jounce in any other way. Nick. Benno meant to take hold of Nicks shoulders, but he mustve taken hold of the wrong things, because there was no way his sons shoulders were so cold. Nick. Something rolled off the beds edge and clanked to the floor. A familiar sound to Benno. An empty glass bottle. Then something else fell, clacked and rattled, less familiar but unmistakable. A plastic pill bottle. Both bottlestwo disparate phenomenawent silent somewhere below as Benno clambered on top of his son. Nick. Nicks mouth was too large. No. There was vomit on his chin, on his lips, pooledthickin the ditch of his mouth. Hardened. Cement. Nick. When Nick was two years old, theyd gone to spend a weekend at Kays parents house down south. At bed time, Nick had cried from his crib so violently hed started to hyperventilate. Kay at the time was pregnant with a child they would never meet, and so the responsibility of consoling Nick had fallen on Benno. Hed gone to Nick and sat beside the crib and stroked his hair until his breathing settled and his crying stopped. Im always here, Benno had whispered. Im always here. Nick had watched his father from bleary eyes, doubtful but willing to trust, for some long, long time until his lids had fallenthen snapped back open, confirming Bennos promise, then fallen againthen snapped open again and again until sleep finally won. And even then Bennoat some rare moment of peace in his miserable lifehad stayed, watching his small, precious son sleep, deep into the night, terrified that if he left, Nicks eyes would snap open again and he would find that his father had lied to him. Nick His skin was gray. His body was inert. The vomit did not displace. He had defecated long enough ago that the smell permeated throughout the room. Benno breathed at the normal rate. His heart was not beating. Tears bled down his face and neck. Nick Im asleep. Im having a nightmare. Benno touched Nicks face with a hand that trembled so viciously it clapped against the cold, clammy flesh. Was this right? Could it possibly be? Was this what it all led to? What was Benno supposed to learn from this? His foot struck the glass bottle as he slid off the bed, then his other foot, then the first foot again, and inadvertently he kicked the bottle along with him out into the hall until it spun away into some other meaningless realm. What am I supposed to learn from this? He punched in the safe combination without hesitation266362a senseless number inexplicably as familiar as his own name or the name of his child. Is this what it all led to? The song playing through the speakers was melodic and upbeat, but the vocals dripped with anger, something between a whisper and a scream. Can this possibly be? He climbed back onto the bed and lay facing his son. In the faint light, Nicks profile reminded Benno of his fathers. Is this right? Benno leaned his forehead against Nicks cold ear and draped his long arms across his body. At the foot of the bed, Recipients hunched shape quavered. A mouse writhed in its jaw. The glass triangle on his collar reflected a sooty darkness and the faint, orange flicker of a small flame. The cat had been with Benno forever. The cat was as constant and overlook-able as dirt to a mole. The music smoldered: I don''t look the same as I used to Is this a bad thing? Benno placed his fathers revolver to his temple. So this was why Harold Haim had left it to him. This was what it was for. Photos for Oscar, to remember by. A gun for Benno, to keep the family together. Look, I don''t know you I don''t look the same like before And I don''t recognize myself anymore Benno thought back to the Close Call. Kays strong fingers holding his armwas that the last time theyd touched? Nicks little hand holding his shoulderstill in the belief his father could protect him. It had been so many years since it had even crossed his mind. Up until nowup until this very momentthe Close Call had been the closest to death Benno had ever been. Even with the cancer. It had held that title for seven years. Until now. The muzzle shivered along Bennos temple. The Close Call had been dethroned. This was the closest Benno had ever beenand ever would beto death. From somewhere deep in the folds of Nicks hairimpossibly deep, impossible like a ghostthe best smell in the world exhumed itself, and filled Bennos nostrils. Safe. The best smell in the world. From pain. Im always here. Forever. FlashcontactBA [Part IV - Be Afraid] Chapter 24 - Holes Pain screamed through every nerve in his body. Thunderous. Ubiquitous. Ravishing. But then it was gonegone so completely it was impossible it had ever existed at all. For a dizzying moment, Bennos proprioception reoriented itself from horizontal to verticalall the more challenging given the near total darkness. Near total. There was a weak light. And two eyes. Two pared eyes. The most extreme chemosis Benno had ever seen, the pupils constricted to points inside the swollen whites. The eyes and a beige hand, holding a small heartno, not a heart, a small red marblebetween two stone-still fingernail-less fingers, were all that he could see in the weak flame from the stub of a candle on the floor. There was a stench of damp earth. Im in a shed, Benno thought, cradling something in his arms. Ive always been in a shed. The smooth hands fingers separatedjust a millimeterand the marble dropped the short distance into the flame, snuffing it out with a cleck, and plunging the dim space into now total darkness. But it only lasted a moment. Then there was light, vertical seams of light as the sheds dingy walls rotated, their outsides turning inward, and their outsides were dazzling sunlight. Bennos eyes clenched and he lowered his face. He felt his bare feet meet warm sand. The gentle lap of waves soothed his ears. Eventually he looked up, squinting, his vision bleary. A beach. The beach. The hale blue sky. The thick white clouds. The sparkling water. The white sand unmarred save for a few toppled beach chairs and some scattered debris crawling with rust-colored crabs, drift wood or How long There was nothing left of them but faded clothesa tracksuit, a speedo, a NASCAR sweater, a blazer crumpled in a wind-scuffed wheelchair, part of a blue dress imprinted with gold stars, a pile of mirrorsand protruding from it all at every angle: stalks of yellow bones. The rust-colored crabs clacked and hissed at whatever scraps remained. Six bodies. How long Six skeletons. Bennos eyes drifted down. In his arms he cradled the other half of the blue and gold dress. The top half. There was a body in it, but unlike the bodies on the beach, this one retained more than just bare bone. There was desiccated flesh, a dark bronze, stretched taught over the skull, neck, shoulder and arms. The flesh was covered in faded green tattoos: an upside-down cross under the eye, cursive along the jawline, an eyeball on the throat. The bangs, cut low over the eyes, looked like wire. The eyes had turned into hunks of flaky yellow tissue. A droplet of water landed on the dead girls withered cheekthen anotheras Benno lowered her mummified body gently onto the sand. His lips quavered. His hands shook. He pulled his beard asidewhich was as long as the length of his bodyto avoid placing her on top of it. He noticed his fingernails, which were so long theyd started to curl like question marks an inch from the tip of his fingers. Ddoak had yet to move; they knelt on the sand a few feet in front of Benno, one hand set on their beige thigh, the other raised with two fingers outspread. Benno looked out through his tears toward the sun-dappled sea, his trembling hands running up the length of his oily clothes, as the weight of everythingof where hed beenreeled back into him. A life. A whole miserable, pain-ridden life. Had he dreamed it? Had he lived it? It had been his life, some version of his life, as real as this one. More real. And hed been with them, in all the wrong ways hed been with his son and his wife Nick Kay But those werent their names. Those were never their names. A shape trawled past Bennos legs and out across the sand. Recipient. He stretched, yawned, sniffed briefly at Dantes thigh bone, then snatched up a crab in his mouth and traipsed away up the beach while the crab squirmed and hissed. Benno looked over at the pile of mirrors. Eddas bones were different, somehow, though at the moment he didnt have the presence of mind to understand how. What do I do? he asked the pile of bones and mirrors. A warm breeze ran down from the perfect sky. What do I do? Benno asked Ddoak. Ddoak stared, no indication that they were even alive. There had been a smell. The smell of his sons shampoo. It had been real. His wifes fingers on his arm had been real. The other car swerving at the last second, opening a doorway where in this lifein his lifethere was only a wall. Bennos nostrils filled with the salty breeze. All over again hed lost them both. What do I do? Six bodies. Here I am. Some iteration of a broken promise. Here I still am. What do I do? # The door to the Inn stood alone on the beach. Bennos beard scrrrched against his legs as he shambled toward it. The lush tropical forest hemming the beach from the inland seemed to tower over him. He glanced back at the beach, where Ddoak knelt, where six bodiesfive and two-halvesbasked in the sun. Benno should do something with them. Bury them. Or move them. He should do something. He touched the doorsome kind of gray polymerthen placed his hand on the ochre knob. It was cool to the touch, despite the relentless sunlight. If it wouldnt turn, if he couldnt get into the Inn, if he was stuck out here on the beach The knob turned and the door opened inward. Through it, the salmon-colored carpets and vaguely genital-looking wallpaper. The orange lights inset in the ceiling. The rows of doors with their arbitrary six-digit numbers. Hallways upon hallways upon hallways. A dreary place, made all the drearier by the palpable sense that it was completely and utterly empty and had been, for some very, very long time. His fingers worked their way into the crusty slit of his pants pocket as the door drifted shut behind him, muting the sunlight through its pane of glass. His pocket was deep, and he buried his hand to the wrist before his gnarled fingernails clicked on the metal thing there. He removed it, and held it up, where it glinted in the orange light. Gemma? he said with the inflection of a person checking on a noise in the middle of the night. Are you there? A faint whirring soundmaybe Bennos imagination, or the blood rushing through him. GOOD MORNING, BENNO. Benno exhaled, a reluctant grin forming in the pit of his beard. How are you, Gemma? was all he could manage in that moment. ERROR. INTERFERENCE NUMB Gemma. How long have Benno searched for the question. How long have I been outside? Outside the Inn? The sunlight through the glass door warmed Bennos back. SEVEN YEARS, EIGHT MONTHS, ONE WEEK, SIX DAYS, TWENTY-TWO HOURS, FOUR MINUTES, THIRTY-ONE Gemma Bennos voice caught on his breath. Seven years Seven years Gemma, how old am I? THIRTY-THREE YEARS, FOUR MONTHS, ONE WEEK, TWO DAYS, SEVEN HOURS, EIGHTEEN MINUTES Benno dragged his curled fingernails through the length of his oily beard. Hide Benno, Edda had said with one of her final breaths. Then shed turned to Benno, and said something else Is there anyone else here? Benno asked. Is there anything else alive in the Inn? The faint whirring. DISCOUNTING YOU THERE ARE TWO COGENT LIFEFORMS INSIDE THE HILLSTUL INNS PROVINCE. Benno glanced back through the glass door, where, down the beach, Ddoak still knelt on the sand, his hand still raised, and, further down the sand, Recipient tore through the rust-colored shell of a squirming crab. Take me to them. # Gemma led him first to the aluminum door with the crash bar. Benno stood outside for a long moment, steeling himself for the stench he knew would meet him when he entered. He hummed a song he couldnt place, nervously, absentmindedly, under his breath before finally hitting the crash bar and stepping inside. The stench was indeed as overwhelming as he remembered. He lurched and gagged as the door swung shut behind him. Then, standing in darkness, he listened as the rattling breath and the scrape of the chain on concrete issued from the dark. Please came the hoarse voice of the Haruspex. I am so hungry Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Benno held Gemma between his thumb and index finger. Light, he said, and then the dazzling light showed forth. The Haruspex sat on the sooty floor with her rag bunched on her lap. She looked, more-or-less, unchanged since Benno had least seen herat least in his memory. The same cracked lips caked in a layer of spittle, the same clumps of dreaded hair, the same foggy, blind eyes refracting Gemmas light, the same chain fastened to the collar around her throat. She reached toward Benno with a knurled hand. Please Feed me Benno took a step closer. Gemma, he said. We need food. A sandwich No the old woman hissed. No How? Benno asked. How do I feed you? Come closer The womans leathery fingers felt around the damp air. Dont touch it. A little voice crept through Bennos mind. And dont let it touch you. Benno took another step forward. Whats going to happen? The Haruspexs fingers groped. Please What could possibly happenat this late stagethat would cause Benno any more grief than he already carried? He would not die. Physical pain would be an impossible blessing. A deeper level of psychic anguish did not exist. He had made it all the way down. He took the Haruspexs hand. She gasped, and her foggy eyes widened. For a moment Benno felt nothing but the clammy grasp of her leathery skin. Then there was a feeling, deep in Bennos hand, his arm, up into his shoulder and neck, like a tickle inside his bones. It wriggled up the side of his face and burrowed into the folds of his brain. Yes The Haruspex breathed. Like a little bird Benno grimaced and shivered as the tickle worked deeper, a sensation like fluttering wings beating in the pale tissue of his mind. Like a little bird The Haruspex shuddered. to a worm A spate of random images flashed behind Bennos eyelids: a pod of dolphins racing through murky water; a menorah adorned in rainbow lights, its base on fire; two cardboard boxes in an attic; a beetle scurrying into an open wound on the rump of a cow; the letter H in bold pink against a black curtain; a little boy in overalls holding a sword, standing at the mouth of a dark cave in the woods; the strange angle of a This. The Haruspexs hand tightened suddenly around Bennos, and Benno felt a new sensation, a pinch, deep in the center of his head, like a beak nipping something free. Then the Haruspex released his hand. Benno stepped back, rattled, and opened his eyes. What was that? he asked. The Haruspex took a slow, raspy breath, her jowls churning, then swallowednothing, perhaps, but a lump in her throat. Thank you, she said. I do not know how much longer I would have lasted. Benno touched the top of his head gingerly, as if it hurt. He felt no different. If something had happened to him, it was unclear. The Haruspex adjusted the rag in her lap and gazed vaguely in Bennos direction. Is Edda dead? Benno nodded, then remembered the woman was blind. Yes. The Haruspex lowered her face, the deep wrinkles around her eyes deepening. That is a shame, she said finally. Was it your fault? We are what we repeatedly do. Yes, he said, then: You enjoy pointing fingers, dont you. The Haruspex shrugged a bony shoulder. I am merely interested in consequence. Consequence is the only truth of this and every world. You told me I would do what Edda asked. You told Edda I would do what she asked. But I didnt. I didnt know I wouldnt but I didnt. You were wrong. And now shes dead. The Haruspex shook her head. I told her you would do what she needs. Whats the difference? Youve changed. The Haruspexs cracked lips were shiny with spittle. I see things in you that werent there before She leaned forward, and the chain rattled. Theres less of you. And your luck has changed. Benno wiped his eyes, which had at some point filled with tears. Last time I was here, you asked me about the accident About the accident that killed my wife and son. You asked what came to me. What it offered. I didnt know what you were talking about back then. I didnt remember. But I just woke up from a dreamor another lifewhere the accident didnt happen. It almost happened, but right before the cars hit, or didnt hit, something came to me. It offered me safety. It offered me safety forever. It left before I could accept, because it wasnt needed, because the cars missed each other. But the first time, the real timein this lifejust before the moment of impact it was there too. It offered me safety. And I accepted it He wiped more tears from his face. Thats where this all started. Thats why I am the way I am. Whatever it was, whatever it gave me or took from me and for whatever reason, its why Im here. Its why Im still here. He looked up from the floor. Do you know? Do you know what it was that did this to me? The Haruspex watched Benno from blind eyes. Only you know for sure. Benno exhaled through his teeth and smeared snot across his mustache. So what do I do now? he asked. The old woman chuckled, a phlegmy bark. Do what comes next. Do you want me to free you? I have nowhere else to go. Just remember to feed me now and then. Youre not my responsibility. The Haruspexs knobby hands folded into her rag. Inheritance is a burden. Benno didnt like the sound of that. What exactly do you eat, anyway? The Haruspex chewed her lips into something like a grin and shrugged her bony shoulders. There is only one thing in a mind. Benno frowned. You should know this, son of Harold Haim, renowned Professor of semiotics. Benno thought this over. I dont notice anything missing. And you never will. # Benno was nervous. Upon leaving the Haruspexs room, Gemma led him to the second of the two remaining cogent lifeforms inside the Inn. It was both a shock and not that Benno found himself standing outside the door to his own room. 266362. It was possible, of course, that Gemma was confused. She was confused about his age, for exampleoff by, at this point, fourteen years. Of course it was just as possible, Benno accepted, that he was the one who was confused. In fact it was more likely. With this acceptance came a swarm of thoughtsa tangle of clarity he couldnt parse in that momentwhich he shook away as he pressed his ear to the door. There was a voice, muffled, that Benno recognized but couldnt place. A mans voice. He took a slow breath, and entered. Wide green leaves and thick green stems crowded him as he stepped inside. A sweet smell of chlorophyll and soil filled his nostrils. The air was humid. The plantsor single plant, it was impossible to discernfilled every inch of the room so thickly that Benno had to reach out and part the leaves and stems back from the linoleum walls, the folding table, the pile of dirty laundry in the corner, to confirm that this was, in fact, his room. He pressed deeper. The enormous plant appeared to be growing from the single small clay pot on the table, a thuck of stems spilling over its rim and branching into dozens and hundreds of additional stems that widened off through the entirety of the room. With his eyes, Benno followed one particularly thick braid of stems, that trailed off into the bathroom, where they had, over the force of years, wrested their way up the sinks faucet and into the cracks around the handles. The voice was coming from the TV on the dresser: The Shining played, the scene where Jack, bleeding from his head, negotiated his freedom from the walk-in pantry with some unseen entity outside. A few feet from the screen, a stem sagging under its weight, was a big blue flower, roughly half the size of Bennos head. Benno surveyed the jungly condition of his trailer, momentarily forgetting the pretense under which Gemma had led him here in the first place. He would need to deal with this, trim it back or remove it completely. On the other hand, the could just change rooms. He had the whole Inn to himself, after all. Let the plants have this one. Gemma, he said. What kind of plant is The blue flower turned. Benno gasped and stumbled back. The flowerits folds of blue petals curling like a startled brow over the eyeless cluster of its anthersseemed to recoil, then to strain forward and widen. Tony? it said in a monotonous, genderless voice. Benno stared, his shock paralyzing him until he remembered that everything about this placeeverything about his lifewas as strange and shocking as a talking flower. No, he said. No Im not Tony. The flower movedscurriedup the length of its stem, jumped from one to another, and half-concealed itself on the opposite side of the room. Jack? it asked, its monotonous voice betraying a bray of fear. Benno leaned around the bulk of the plant to glance at the TV. No, he said, then thought for a moment. Im not Jack. Im not going to hurt you. The flower peeked out. My name is Benno. Benno pushed aside a stem and took a step forward. Ive been away awhile, but this is my room. Weve actually met, I think. A long time ago. The flowers petals narrowed, uncertain. Are you the caretaker? No. Good. Whats your name? Benno asked. The flower crept out a few inches along a stem, then stopped. I dont know. Benno fingered his beard free from a leaf. Well, what would you like to be called? The flower was silent for a long moment. Not Jack. Or Lloyd. Or Grady. Okay so those are off the table, Benno said, some busy, background part of his brain trying to piece together how this had happened. Gemma had materialized the plant. The plant had thrived and produced a cogent flower with Gemmas voice. And that was about where Bennos understanding of the situation fell off pretty steeply. It would have been a good question for Edda, though knowing Edda, her answer would have left something to be desired. The flower crept out further along the stem, then tumbled to another, and another, leapt over the width of the table, and rested on a nest of leaves a few feet from Benno. I dont remember you, it said. Yeah, you were just a baby. Benno ignored the nagging sensation in his mind mocking him for talking to a flower. Its been seven years. Seven years? The flowers petals scrunched, calculating. Where have you been? Outside, Benno said, his stomach sinking at a torrent of faces and failures. The flower widened. Outside the Overlook? Um, no. Outside the Hillstul Inn. The Overlook is just in the movie. The flowers petals frowned. Movie? Do you want to come outside and see? Outside? The flower crept nearer, and Benno noticed the dozens of thin black threads extending from its base that appeared to propel it. Is it snowing? Not here. Is there a maze? Benno thought this over. Sort of. The flower hopped from its perch and landed on Bennos shoulder, the black threads gripping his shirt. What are we gonna do? it asked, its monotonous voice clipping into excitement in a way Gemmas never could. Well first, Benno said. We need to dig some holes. # Eddas bones were black. Her bones were black and if Benno remembered correctly, her blood was red worms. It was a peculiarity that meant nothing now. Her bones were black and her blood was worms, but she was dead. Just like everybody else. As the sun set out over the water, Benno noticed something about himself he was embarrassed hed never noticed before. While exertionlike, for example, digging six graves in the sandleft him winded and sweating, there would come a point, a plateau, past which it stopped worsening. This of course made sense: since Benno could not die or get injured, the usual progression into exhaustion, soreness, sprain, breathlessness, dehydration, and heart attack could not arrive. So Benno could dig, and dig, and bury and dig and dig again, panting and sweating through his clothes, without ever needing to slow or rest. This allowed him to finish burying the crew before it got dark. He patted the final graveHermannswith the underside of the shovel, his beard coiled around his neck like a scarf, and looked back down the row. Hed buried them facing the ocean, and placed an article of remembrance atop or leaning against the lengths of metal hed torn from the rusted beach chairs and impaled in the sand: Eddas cracked mirror carapace, which reflected the sea in jagged fractals; a strip of the little girls blue and gold dresswhoever she was; Isaacs gold necklace; Helens NASCAR sweater; Dantes speedo; and a wheel from Hermanns chair. He realized too late that he could have just as easily requested proper headstones from Gemma, but after a moment of consideration he decided this was better. This was more in line with the spirit of the crew. The flower perched on Bennos shoulder, watching silently. Ddoak was gone, and Recipient was nowhere to be seen. Benno tossed the shovel away, watching from the corner of his vision as it vanished before hitting the sand. Are you done? asked the flower. Benno nodded slowly, looking out at the sun over the glittering water. With this part. What are we doing next? In Bennos dreamor whatever it was hed experienced in Ddoaks shedthere had been no yawning Hell of inescapability. Benno had gotten to die. At least for a moment. Hed gotten his death, the same that everyone else got. Why should he be greedy? Why should that not be enough? I like holes, said the flower. What do you mean? It sounds nice. Holes." Benno shrugged. Well thats your name then. Really? Sure. Holes the flower smiled, satisfied, out at the orange sun. Something leapt from the water in a burst of silver droplets, then splashed back down in silence. A pair of birds or large insects darted from the tree line of the thick forest and flew together down the length of the beach. Benno and Holes watched as the sun sunk lower into an idyllic haze of red and gold so mesmerizing that it was nearly dark before Benno realized the abominable CoilEddas burden and hers alonewas gone. [Part IV - Be Afraid] Chapter 25 - The City of Bleeding Neon Given that Bennos old room had effectively become Holes, he let himself into the room next door in order to groom. The room was identical to Bennos as hed originally found it: lime-green wallpaper; a coarse, salmon-colored carpet; a single beige chair beside a low beige table in one corner; pink wall-length curtains drawn over a window; a full-sized bed, its nondescript mustard-colored sheets with distinct hospital folds at the corners; a drinking glass, upside down on the bedside table; a fire-exit floor plan affixed on the inside of the door which, pausing to look at it for the first time, he discovered showed only the one hallway lined with its eight doors, and arrows at either end pointing off in opposite directions. There was no point in Benno changing any of it. He wasnt going to be here long. Holes perched on the bathroom counter, watching from its petalsif there were eyes inside, Benno had yet to see themas Benno hunched over the toilet hacking through his bulbous nails. It took him the better part of an hour, but he managed to get his fingernails cut back and smooth enough that he could at least touch things unimpeded with his fingertips. He spent less effort on his toenails. He stood naked at the mirror. The tip of his beard dangled around his ankles. He could just hack it off, shave it to the roots. He turned and looked at himself at an angle. It wasnt exactly a good look, but there was something about it that Benno didnt hate. It was well earned. Well deserved. Seven years in a shed living through a subtle and insidious nightmare. If all he got to keep from that was an ankle-length beard, then he was damn well going to keep it. He showered, giving the beard a deep scrub with an odorless shampoo Gemma provided, and then braided its length and tied it with a piece of black string, and though hed never braided anything in his life, he was satisfied with how it came out. Holes, who had been staring at the shower curtain since Benno emerged, finally spoke. Arent you afraid? it asked. Of what? Why? Holes petals narrowed toward the showers basin. Benno frowned, then, after a moment, understood. You know, he said. Everything you saw, about the Overlook, about Jack and Wendy and Danny, about the twins and the woman in the bath, it was all fake. Fake? Its a movie. It isnt real. What is real? Benno considered this. Thats a really good question. He picked up Gemma from the counter and pressed his thumb to her cool, flat side. I need some clothes. The usual. Are there other movies? Yeah, tons. Benno tugged on his jeans. Maybe well watch some together. Holes petals widened. Really? Sure. Benno tossed his shirt over his shoulder and stepped into his sneakers. But not right now. Why? Because we have something else to do first. What? The sneakers fit so perfect it was as if he wasnt even wearing any at all. We have to find Onus, he said. We have to find Eddas brother. # Recipient had managed, somehow, to get into Eddas apartmentthis despite the door being closed when Benno arrived. He sat on the windowsill, looking out at the empty sky. When Benno entered he turned slowly, gave Benno an irritated look, then hopped to the floor and loped off down the hall. The apartment smelled like lilacs and firewood. The only thing out of place was a blanketblack with jagged stripes of bright orange that Benno remembered folded neatly over the back of the chair in which hed sat speaking to Edda soon after meeting herwhich was now strewn on the white sofa on which shed sat, and which Benno assumed she must likely have slept on the night before her murder. It was a painfully humanizing picture of the formidable and guarded Edda, and one whichcoupled with the aroma of lilacs and firewoodcaused Benno almost to miss herthe murderous bitch. Then again, what was he? Benno paused beside a small table at the end of the sofa. There was a drawer in it, ajar, and through the slit he could see a familiar object. Benno slid it open and picked up the Koan, the little, seven-fingered hand Edda had stolen from the Forrorians. It was light, as light as a Gemstoke. Its surface was brittle. Benno held it up and peered at it. Edda had claimed there were buyers, that a bidding war for the Koan was underway. Perhaps she was lying. Perhaps she simply hadnt had a chance to deliver it to the highest bidder before her death. Benno placed it gently back in the drawer and slid it all the way closed. Who lives here? Holes asked from Bennos shoulder as they headed down the hallway off the living room. Recipient slunk inside a door that stood ajar opposite the door to the study. One of the people we buried, Benno said, nudging the door slightly wider and peering inside. Another large room, with a deep gold wall-to-wall carpet, black dressers, black closet doors, a crimson ceiling with a gold spiral painted across it, and an enormous bed strewn with unmade black bedding. A gigantic furry gray couch occupied a quarter of the rooms far wall, surrounded by ornate pillows. Recipient padded up to it, glanced back at Benno, and then nestled his head into its base. Then the couch stirred. Benno startled. The couch sighed and rolled over, exposing two parallel rows of obtruding nipples down its underside. Its upper half raised off the floor and looked over at Benno from a pair of austere orange eyes. A cat. A cat the size of a rhinoceros. One chair-sized paw dragged a pillow underneath its table-sized head before it blinked onceslowly like a tree swaying in the windlowered its head onto the pillow, and took a deep, sleepy breath. Recipient got down prostrate on his stomach, scooted closer to one of the long nipples, and started to drink. Benno, suddenly embarrassed, closed the door most of the way and continued down the hall. Blue curtains were drawn tight across the window in the study. Benno traced a few of the scattered papers on the table on his way to the bookshelf. The books themselvesall the same height and widthhad no writing on the spines, and when he took one down and opened it he found every page cramped with Eddas careful handwriting, which, after a moment of attempting to read, he discovered was in an alphabet that was not his own. Gemma, he said. Can you translate these? ERROR. INTERFERENCE NUMBER 61. LANGUAGE UNKNOWN. Benno eyed the hundreds of books on the shelves. Language unknown. If Gemma didnt know it, that probably meant Edda had invented it herselfan impressive insight into the scope of her paranoia. He stroked his beard, combing his mind for some clue of how to proceed. Gemma, he said finally, setting the journal back on the shelf. Where is Onus? ERROR. INTERFERENCE NUMBER Gemma. Where is Eddas brother? ERROR. INTERFERENCE NUMB Gemma, stop. Benno pinched the bridge of his nose. Three days agoseven years, ratherEdda had remarked to Benno that she was excited for him to learn about all the wonderful things Gemma could provide besides whiskey. So far, Benno wasnt sure Gemma had provided him anything that topped that. Well I guess that leaves us with one option. Benno straightened up, hoping that assuming a more confident posture might instill a bit of confidence, though if anything it made him feel like an imposter. Gemma, take me to he trailed off and turned toward Holes, remembering the flower was perched on his shoulder. Maybe we should get you back to the room, he said. Where Im going, it might be dangerous for you. Holes looked at Benno from the folds of its petals. Will it be dangerous for you, too? Benno shook his head slowly, a gesture that faded into stillness. I dont know. The blue petals of Holes headbody?shrugged. Youll protect me, right? it asked. Benno noticed that Holes had a scent, floral and faintly synthetic. Not like anything Benno had smelled before, and yet deeply and inherently familiar. I will protect you, he said. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Then lets go. Holes threads nestled against Bennos shoulder. I want to see things. Benno nodded, his beard pendulating against his shins. And see things you will, he thought, raising Gemma to his lips. Take us to Eddas Realm of origin. # Benno noticed two things right away: The first was the torrential, dark rain bleeding from the low, rufous sky. The second was the overwhelming conviction that he was being watched. He shielded Gemma from the rain as he raised her to his lips. I need a raincoat, he said, then pulled the yellow raincoat from the air and threw it over his head and shoulders, foregoing the sleeves. Whats happening? Holes nestled against Bennos cheek, peering out from its petals into the curdling red glow of the sky. Its raining, is all, Benno said, then added: Its like snow, except warmer. Holes chewed this over. Benno surveyed the black brick walls of the alleyway in which he and Holes stood. They rose up on either side, disappearing into the low clouds. On the wall behind him, painted in garish yellow letters, someone had graffitied: THE EYES OF HORUS WATCH YOU FUCK Benno lifted one sneakered foot from the thin rivulet in which it stood. The rivulet essed down the length of the alley and burbled into a drain near where the alleyway opened onto a street, from which vericolored lights percolated through the heavy rain. There was a sound, a distant roar that distinguished itself in Bennos ears as the chatter of traffictires cutting through puddles, engines whirring, the squeal of a slammed brake. A blur of movement swept past the alleys moutha vehicle, going fastand then, a second later, moving in the opposite direction, a dark figure hurried past, stooped in the rain. It was hard to say for certain from his distance, but if he had to hed say the figure couldnt have been shorter than ten feet tall. I think were in the right place, Benno said, glancing once more back at the graffiti before heading toward the street. Holes watched from the shelter of the raincoats hood. Benno paused at the end of the alley and peered out. A wide boulevard, awash in relentless rain, stretched in both directions for as far as Benno could see. Lining it, the dark, gothic facades of what appeared to be apartment buildings, their ornate iron doors covered by black awnings. The buildings themselves were windowlessat least as far as Benno could see before their black exteriors were swallowed up by the low clouds. Gold lights from lampposts on the boulevards corners trellised in the soaking air. A pair of white lightsa vehicleapproached along the boulevard, then veered left and disappeared with a squeal. Other than its sheer scalethe buildings entrances were easily twenty feet high, the boulevard itself perhaps fifty yards acrossit could have been a city in Bennos Realm. The buildings that lined Central Park, for example, were also ornate, and the few times hed been there at nightthough not necessarily in the rainthere had been a similar gothic grandiosity. The same was true of Madrid, or of Pragueboth of which Benno had visited during a gap year from college. Again he considered what hed considered back in Middle Forest as hed approached the library to confront Simon Hausmann and the Bababaksum: material itself had a preference. From Realm to Realm, there was similarity. This dark city was ominous and austere, but it was more familiar than alien. Despite a few obvious qualitiesthe absence of parked cars, for example, or the buildings windowlessnessit could have been anywhere. It couldve been Bennos thoughts trailed off as his gaze wandered up into the sky. Where do we go now? Holes asked, its plasticky petals brushing Bennos cheek. Benno stepped out from the mouth of the alleyway and into the middle of the sidewalk, staring up, raindrops landing in his open mouth. At some distance up the boulevarda mile or moreand at some bewildering height, scores of neon lights smoldered and flashedsigns, it seemed, obscured by the cloudscasting shadows of reverberating light. But higher still than the neon lights was a section of sky from which the cloud cover was entirely devoid in a near perfect circle. And in that empty swatch of black sky, suspended over what appeared to be the spire of a skyscraper just visible from the clouds below, a pair of enormous disembodied eyeballsthe bloody braids of their optics nerves danglingstared from orange irises down, it felt, directly at Benno. # Benno walked for nearly thirty minuteshis sneakers scrrrching with waterbefore he saw another person. As they approached through the gloom, hurrying with their head down and their hands buried in the folds of their long coat, Bennos first instinct was to hide. There was a building entrance nearby, its door inset in the black brickgranite? marble?inside which Benno could easily conceal himself until they passed. But this instinct was an unreasonable one, a primordial impulse with no bearing on the situation at hand. He was not here, in this Realm, with any nefarious intentions. Sooner or later he would need to make his presence known to someone. Nor was he in any danger. Despite this, his heart rate kicked up as he slowed to a stop in the path of the approaching person. They strode quickly, their face downcast, oblivious to Benno, and would have walked right past him if he didnt speak up. Excuse me? he said, his voice muffled by the rain. The persona womanstopped dead and looked up, blinking over Bennos head for several seconds before noticing him down near her waist. She was easily two feet taller than Edda, her black eyes caked in black shadow, her lips black, her black hair tucked into the high collar of her brass buckle-adorned coat, and sopping wet. For a moment she stared, expressionless. Then a frown dug into the crease between her eyes. What are you? Her voice was deep, with an accent Benno had only heard once before. Um, Im Benno. Benno nudged the hood of his raincoat back from his eyes. Holes cowered against Bennos neck. The woman wiped water from her forehead with a long hand that immediately disappeared back into her coat. And? Benno pointed up the boulevard toward the pair of orange eyes glaring from the sky. Who lives there? he asked. The woman did not turn around. She peered at Benno, her eyes narrowing. A shrunken wittol has some business with the Eyes of Horus? Uh, no, Benno said. Im actually here to see Onus. A moment unfurled in which the woman stared deeply at Benno, her brow furrowed so deeply her eyes appeared like two shadowy pits, and Benno became convinced she was going to admonish him, or strike him. Then her frown broke into a wide grin, which spread into uproarious laughter. My She cackled, her face rising toward the wet sky. Oh my Brilliant. Benno grinned, uncertain. My. Oh my The woman wiped rainwater and tears from her face. Very, very good. Whoever and whatever you are, rest assured that youve made my night. Here to see Onus She threw her head back again and laughed anew as she strode around Benno and off down the street. Brilliant! Benno watched her as she disappeared into the gloom, her laughter swallowed by the susurrus of the endless rain. Can you explain the joke to me? Holes asked once she was gone. Benno turned back up the boulevard, tenting a hand over his brow to peer up at the eyes and the neon lights. No, he said, resuming his trek. # The boulevard continued onto a long suspension bridge. The bridges towers, like the citys buildings, disappeared overhead into the clouds. Benno walked alongside the high railing. Below, a chasm of dark mist. He listened for running water, but could not distinguish the rain from anything else. Looking back, he found the buildings ended flush with the chasms edge, and the chasms walls appeared made of black, sooty concrete. The source of the neon lights seemed to be directly on the bridges far side, looming so high that Benno needed to crane his neck all the way back to look at them. The swatch of cloudless sky from which the eyes gaped down had not once filled in, implying that its presence was more than simple climatic coincidence. Benno was also convinced that the eyes were following him. Has she seen the movie? Holes asked. What movie? Who? The Shining. That woman. The one we just spoke to? Holes nodded against Bennos cheek. I dont know, Benno said. That movies from my Realm. They might have their own movies here. Then again, I bet Edda had seen it. If I had to guess. Why? Why do I bet shed seen it? Yes. I dont know. This is a strange line of questioning, Holes. Are you mad at me? No. Of course not." A roar rose up. Benno stopped and turned, peering into the dinge. From back the way hed come, a white light raced down the middle of the boulevard and onto the bridge. Before Benno could make sense of it, a horn blared, and the light revealed itself as the headlamp of an enormous black train, its fender bared like a grimacing mouth. It hurdled down tracks along the boulevards middle that Benno hadnt noticed until then, trailing a plume of black smoke from its tall chimney and dragging tensdozensof black passenger cars. Benno clung to the railing as the bridge shook with the trains momentum. It let out another deafening blare as it blurred by, and as soon as it appeared it had vanished into the mist. # On the far side of the chasm, the bridge opened up onto a wide square. More buildings lined the squares perimeterat least the parts Benno could see before the mist thickened them into obscuritybut the architecture was different. The buildings exteriors were of the same black brick, but these had windows at street level, wide windows displaying dazzling tableaus: scenes of golden pyramids standing over dense jungles; valleys of yellow crops basked in red sunlight and silos casting long shadows; mountains capped with snow; a coral reef teeming with strange fish and alien creatures. It all twinkled in the drenched air. Storefronts? Art installations? Benno looked up, where the neon lights glowed and flashed in the mist directly overheadlikely from points on these same buildings. Whatever they werethe neon lights and window displaystheir strangeness was amplified by the sheer absence of people. The wet square yawned into the gloom in all directions, and there was no one to be seen. If it hadnt been for the woman Benno spoke to, the other person whod passed quickly in front of the alleyway, the two vehicles and the locomotive, Benno would be forgiven for assuming that this city was as lifeless as a cemetery. Except, of course, for the eyeballs, nearly directly overhead. Benno cut through the square. The train tracks ran through deep grooves in the black cobblestone. He followed them while maintaining some distance, images of cars coiled alongside tracks, flames crackling, black smoke Look, Holes said, drawing Bennos attention from his own intrusive guilt. Up ahead, piercing through the curtain of unyielding rain, a tall, quavering light. It swam into fruition as Benno approached, and soon he was standing before it. A tremendous fire, burning in an enormous mantle built into the face of a black brick buildingthe same, Benno determined, looking up, over whose spire the eyeballs floated. The mantle was easily fifty feet high, and its fire cast breaths of heat that seemed to dry Bennos saturated clothes even as he continued to stand in the rain. The train tracks disappeared into the flames. To the right of the mantle was a door. It was, like the doors of the buildings on the other side of the bridge, decorated with ornate ironworkknots and braids like ivorybefore panes of glass. But unlike those other doors, this had a discernible shape in the iron: a pair of eyes. Lidless, faceless eyes. Benno looked up. The break in the cloud cover around the giant eyeballs in the sky allowed him to see the entire length of this particular building. There were windows, he discovered, starting above the top of the mantle, filled with golden light. The building tapered as it rose, coalescing in a point. Above that, the eyeballs stared straight down. Here goes nothing, Benno said, going to the door. Where goes nothing? Holes asked. Its a figure of speech. A person made of language? Huh? No. I mean Its just something people say. Here goes nothing, Holes tried out. Here goes nothing The door had no handle or knob. There was, however, a scuffed plate welded to it at Bennos eye level. He put both hands against the plate and pushed. The door sighed, and opened, and a rush of dry heat breathed out and enveloped him. [Part IV - Be Afraid] Chapter 26 - Tears of the Eyes of Horus One wall of the hallway was hotso hot that if Benno wasnt Benno it would likely have melted the skin from his hand as he ran his palm along it. The hallway was dark and very long. Up ahead, a flickering orange light beckonedor cautioned. Benno was reminded of the corridor beneath the Everson Familys mansion, with its enclosures and its dim, flickering torches. It makes sense, he thought, though then wasnt sure what, exactly, made sense, and needed to abandon the thought as he emerged from the hallway. A cavernous rooma chamberblack stone floors, black stone walls, a black stone ceiling yawning overhead maybe hundreds of feet. Torches burned along the walls, casting frightened shadows. It reminded Benno of how he imagined the interior of an Egyptian tomb might feeland with that thought came a cascade of additional thoughts, confusions and realizations, that fluttered and bled through his mind and refused to still or reveal themselves. There was a single doorway carved from the wall on the rooms opposite side. Standing on either side of it were two people. They were, of course, tall, and clad in black robes. They stood perfectly still, staring straight ahead from dark eyes. Benno walked across the chamber, his wet sneakers scrrrching. The two guards were both women. Each wore her hair braided in thick pleats down opposite shoulders. Each also wore similar dark makeup to the woman hed spoken to on the boulevard. They stared ahead, ignoring Benno even as he slowed to a stop mere feet away. Hey, he said, his voice echoing off the chambers dry walls. The guards did not react. Benno cleared his throat. Im looking for He trailed off. He was looking for Onus, that much he knew. But the last person hed mentioned that to had laughed at him. And why, exactly, was he looking for Onus? Well because Edda had told him to. But what happened when, or if, he found him? Was Bennos work over? Or was it, as he feared, just beginning? I have business with the Eyes of Horus, he said, borrowing the phrasing. The guardswho were both, Benno decided, easily eleven feet tallcontinued to stare straight ahead, though each extended her respective arm nearest the doorway, clasping the others hand across it. No, said one. You do not, said the other. Benno took a slow breath. Was this worth it? Was Onus even here? He didnt know, but, without any obvious recourse, he decided he had to see it through. I do, he said, reaching into the neck of his raincoat and tucking Holes down toward his chest. And I will not leave until Ive had an audience. Now the guards eyes lowered toward him. Leave, shrunken wittol, said one. Or we will split you in half, said the other. Benno held their gazes. I do not want to hurt you, he said, surprising himself with the rush of confidence the statement stirred in him. Holes tucked itself lower, its threads clinging to Bennos shirt. The guard to Bennos rightstill holding the others handraised her other arm. In her fist, a long scythe, black like everything else. In an instant it was raised high, its blade glinting in the firelight, and then descended, whistling through the dry air. Benno raised his hand, as one might to hail a cab. The blade collided with his palm. There was a wink of sparks, and the scythe exploded into fragments like glass beneath a thrown brick. The guards released one anothers hands. The one to Bennos left now drew her own scythe, pivoted to Bennos side, and swung horizontally. The blade struck Benno in his lower backright around his kidneysand it too shattered to pieces. For a moment the two guards stood, their stances poised, their dark eyes wide. Then four more blades appeared, short blades, one in each hand, and blurs of black metal danced toward Benno. He had two options: in one, he could stand and await the onslaught, allow the guards to tire themselves out and attempt to reason with them once they were exhausted; in the other, he could subdue them, hasten this whole process, and save them their embarrassment. Holes nestled tightly against his chest inside the raincoat, trembling. The clangs of the breaking scythes and the sense of dangerous movement must be terrifying to the little flower. Though he barely knew Holeswhatever there was to knowhe felt an undeniable commitment to protect the creature. And though Benno could afford to withstand blows from the guards blades, one bad strike to his chest was all it would take to crush the delicate flower into dust. A blade struck Bennos neck. He felt the metal bend under the blow, and a violent reverberation ring forth, which sent one of the guards staggering. The second guard had repositioned herself behind Benno, and thrust forward at the back of his head. Benno spun. The blade skirted his cheek, grinding, and the guard continued forward with her own momentum, her long arm nearly all the way past Benno. He hooked his own arm around hers, over her elbow, and he squeezed. There was a damp crunch. The blade in the guards hand clattered to the stone floor, and as Benno released her she staggered backward, collapsing onto her knees. She stared up, her dark eyes tearing, her whole body shaking, cradling her shattered arm in the other. Small, pained noises rose up from her throat. Benno turned to the other guard, whod retreated against the wall. For a moment she looked back at him, still clutching her blades, then dropped them to the floor. I have business with the eyes of Horus, Benno restated. I will not leave until Ive had an audience. Then, his heart breaking from the noises of the injured guard, he turned back to her. Goddammit, he said. Im so, so sorry. Is there anything I can do? # After exiting a stone elevator illuminated only by a single torch on the elevators walland which had churned him up a dark stone shaft for minutes and minutesBenno found himself in a room markedly different than the chamber downstairs. There was a long gray table near the far wall with nothing on it but a hunk of polished onyx on a pedestal; a pair of chairs, upholstered in black leather, on one side of the table, and a larger chair, its high back adorned with dark red inlay, on the other; a shelf against the wall lined with additional dark sculptures and a short row of leather-bound books; a lampnot firelightstanding in one corner, casting the space in a yellow glow. The floor was smooth, black wood. The walls were papered in black. A single doorless doorway stood open onto darkness on the wall opposite the elevator. And then there were the windows. The entire length of the wall behind the table was lined with themsix in total. Benno was just tall enough to stand on his tiptoes and look out. Below, a carpet of reddish mist. Through it, the spires of buildings rose, tapering into points, their exteriors littered with windows, high into the clear, starry sky. From Bennos vantage, he guessed he was in the tallest building in the city, and near the top. He looked to the left, where the towers of the suspension bridge hed walked over breached the mist, and beyond it, the shorter spires of the buildings lining the boulevardand hundreds of other buildings beyond those. Those spires were dark points, illuminated only by the starlight. But on this side of the city, atop the buildings surrounding the one from which Benno looked out, the spires were adorned with neon signsall the bleeding lights hed seen through the mistin every array of color, some flashing, some glowing continuously, all of themscoresdepictions of the same image: A pair of eyes. Benno could not see them from the window, given they were directly overhead, but he could sense the real eyesthe Eyes of Horusstaring, lidless, down at the city and its neon mimicries. What is this called? Holes asked, perched on the shoulder of Bennos raincoat, gazing out from wide petals at the strange cityscape below. Its a city, said Benno. I dont know its name. Can we call it Holes? No. Holes is taken. After several minutes, Benno grew dizzy from the view, and shuffled his way to the shelf. He was toldby the guard whose arm he hadnt snapped to piecesto wait, and that someone would be there to speak with him shortly. That someone had yet to appear, and though it had only been a few minutes, Benno couldnt help but wonder if they were biding their time trying to figure out what to do with him. For their sakes, he hoped that wasnt the case. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Hanging over the shelf, suspended from the high ceiling on a thin chain, was a bronze statue of a man. He stood with one leg lifted, and his arms outstretched. From his raised foot and hands, bells dangled. His face was downturned, his brow furrowed in grief, grimacing at his enormous, barbed penisa third the size of his entire bodywhich stood erect before him. There was an engraving along the penis, and Benno turned his head sideways to read it. A Tintinnabulum A Tintinnabulum Depicting a Man Struggling with his Phallus and his Nature as a Raping Beast. Benno turned. A woman stood at the doorway. Her white hair hung nearly to the floor. Her skin was ashen, and her eyes shadowed in gold. Her clothes were gray, fitted, and adorned with gold buttons. She strode across the room slowly, her pale eyes scanning the length of Bennos beard, then leaned against the table, folded her arms over her chest, and stared at him in silence. Behind her, two more guards emerged from the doorway and took up positions on either side. These twoagain both womenwore similar gray clothes to the white-haired woman, and featureless gray masks with attenuated eye holes, not unlike the one Edda used to wear. Each guard carried an enormous black swordtwo-thirds the length of her bodyheld vertically upside-down by the handle so the blades points hovered an inch from the floor. These guards, Benno conceded, appeared far more formidable than the ones downstairs, and though he knew it made no difference to his personal safety, he decidedfor reasons he couldnt exactly put his finger onit might benefit him, for now, to pretend that it did. He shifted his weight, managing to shrink under the white-haired womans gaze. That guard downstairs, he said. Is her arm okay? The white-haired woman frowned and grinned at once. You should know that were the Sowers on stationlet alone the Chieftainyou would be in two halves. But the First Twins of the Scattered King are overseeing the front lines in Albeddon. You bested a secondary guard. So do not be prideful. And do not attempt the same with my personal security if you ever want to leave this room. She gestured to the two gray guards at the door. Benno nodded slowly, grasping at what hints he could parse. Twins. The First Twins of the Scattered King. Mother had called Edda the Thirty-third Daughter of the Scattered King. Shed also called her the Heart of Horus. Are you the Eyes of Horus? he asked. The womans frown deepened, and her grin faltered. As I said, the First Twins of the Scattered Kingthe Eyes of Horusare away. I am Langley Galatin, the Tears of the Eyes of Horus. And until their return, I am the closest thing to an audience you will receive from them. And you are lucky even for this. Benno nodded again. And is Onus one of those twins? Langleys grin disappeared completely, and she uncrossed her arms. Who are you? My names Benno Haim And Im Holes! Im friends with Edda. Now it was Langleys turn to nod, her eyes scanning the floor briefly and the grin returning to her lips. So the prodigal runt, banished from Luridia under the threat of death, sends a member of her ridiculous club, a shrunken wittol no lessand a stupid and grievously ill-informed one at thatin her stead to say or do what, exactly? Benno outspread his hands. People keep calling me that. Shrunken wittol. What does it mean? Langleys nose wrinkled. Wittols are men who embrace their wives disloyalty. All men are wittols. All men but the Scattered King. You are shrunken because you are small. Benno shrugged. I havent seen a lot of men here, he said. In fact, I havent seen any. The Scattered King has only one son. The rest of us are his daughters. Youre all his daughters? Langley peered at Benno. Even them? Benno pointed to the guards. Only those born from conjugality enjoy the rights of heirdom. Langley exhaled. But consider now that you are wasting my time. You injured a federal employee, and it is not our custom to reward terrorism. I am willing to extend some patience for the fact that you displayed an initial aversion to violence, and because my curiosity as to your arrival here has perhaps gotten the better of me. But my patience is not unlimited. Im here because Edda asked me to find her brother, Onus, Benno said. It was the last thing she said before she died. A moment passed, Langleys long, gold-tipped fingers tracing the corner of the table, her gaze somewhere off in the corner of the room. Her jaw clenched with thought. When? she asked, finally. Seven years ago. It took you seven years to arrive here? Benno ran his hand through his beard. Its a long story. How did she die? Benno weighed how much to disclose to Langley about Eddas death. At this stage, he figured, it was pointless to obfuscate. Either she was going to help lead him to Onus or she wasnt. She was killed, he said. By the Everson Family. Langley stood from the edge of the table and took several slow paces across the room. And youre right, Benno went on. I am ill-informed. In fact, I only knew Edda for three days before she died. Id never heard of Onus, or the First Twins of the Scattered King or about this Realm or anything having to do with any of it. All Edda talked about up until then was her search for the Gard Be quiet! Langley hissed, turning toward Benno in a swift movement, her white hair fanning and her pale eyes coruscating with dark light. Do not speak of Eddas activities in this place, or any other. Benno raised an eyebrow. Why? Langley crossed the entirety of the room in just two strides, and towered over Benno. It occurred to him that everyone hed met in this Realm was taller than Edda by at least two feet, and the idea that Edda was considered a runt by these womens standards was a tough perspective-shift to swallow. You are naive and you are reckless, Langley half-whispered, stooping over Benno. Your friend was an anarchist and a blasphemer. She and the Lonely Son plotted against the Nation of Luridia and against our Scattered King, from whom everything they had and ever would have was given. It is not only unsurprising that she earned the scorn of the Everson Family, but undoubtedly deserved. Benno studied Langleys face. Behind her furious brow, her dark eyes, the crook of her lips, there was something leaking through. Something undeniable. You were friends, Benno said. Langleys scowl disintegrated into surprise, but only for a moment. Then she straightened up, pushed the curtain of long white locks asidewhich immediately fell back in front of her faceand shook her head gravely. Before she made her choices, maybe. I get it, Benno said. I didnt really like her, either. She was pompous. Langley scoffed. And condescending. But she was also passionate, in her own way. I mean yeah, she was a murderer, but who isnt? She also gave some of us a purpose Benno startled himself as his throat tightened. For the first time in a long time. It was vague and it was fraught, but it was something. Hermann, he was a sweet old shrunken wittol. He wouldve followed Edda to Hell, and ultimately did. Helenyou mightve liked hershe was a hoot. A really good hang. Isaac was a nice kid doing the best he could with a tough hand, so to speak. Dante just wanted to make Edda proud. And there was a girl. I dont know who she was but Benno lowered his face. Theyre all gone. Now, its not just my faultIm done doing that to myselfbut I had a part to play. And I have a part to play now. I dont know exactly what it is, but I know its mine. Whatever I thought I neededto go back or undo somethingI was wrong. I need to go forward. Its all anyone can do, after all. Were all here. Here we all are. Langley blinked slowly, and for a moment Benno thought she might nod, stoically, in understanding. Instead she shrugged her eyebrows. Those names mean nothing to me. Benno tsked. So are you gonna tell me how to find Onus? I will not abet Eddasor yourpursuit of discord. Benno thought for a moment. Well I guess in that case You said the Twins were inwhat was it?Albeddon? I could just head there and ask them directly. Im sure theyll understand that you couldnt deal with it on your end. You must have a lot going on. Langley scowled out from the columns of her white hair, her shoulders rising and falling. I will have you ripped to pieces. Benno shook his head slowly. What are you? Langley asked, her eyes narrow. Benno chewed the inside of his lip, trying, sincerely, to produce a suitable answer. I dont know, he said. A moment unfurled, the only sound the dry breath entering and exiting Langleys nostrils. Onus is a criminal and a disgrace, she said finally. He is facing agony for his crimes. Where? I promise you do not want to go there. Where? The Lonely Son of the Scattered King is serving out his six-hundred-thousand year sentence in the Bathhouse. The Bathhouse? Is that somewhere here? In Luridia? It is a disparate Realm overseen by a being whose appetites are conducive to captivity and torment. Langleys nose wrinkled again. Both of which Onus deserves. If you do manage somehow to find him there, you will not like how you find him. Benno reflected on how hit or miss Gemma was when it came to Realm travel. The Bathhouse felt vague enough that he was confident Gemma would come back at him with an ERROR INTERFERENCE NUMBER You wouldnt happen to have the Realm code, would you? # Benno decided to exit the building and walk back out into the misty square before using the Gemstoke. It had nothing to do with wanting to keep Gemma a secret from Langleyhe assumed Langley was aware of Gemma, and it was obvious that Luridia had its own means of Realm travelbut rather that for some reason hed come to think of Realm hoppingthe crush of whirring darknessas a private endeavor. He walked along the train tracks. Around him, the obscured lights of the window displays bled in the mist. Holes sat atop his head, its petals outstretched toward the sky, drinking the rain. Im so thirsty, it said between gulps. The air in that place was dry. Benno stopped near the middle of the square and looked back up the length of the tower from which hed just emerged. From the break in the clouds, the two eyeballs stared down at him from orange irises. Im going to offer again, Benno said, lifting Holes from his head and holding him in his palms at eye-level. I can return you to the Inn. You can watch a movietheres one I think you might really like, its called Little Shop of Horrors. And youll be safe there. I was safe here, Holes said. Yes, but There was a hairy moment. And this place, I think, is very safe relative to where were going next. Holes chewed this over, its anthers glistening with rainwater in the pit of its face. Id like you to stop asking me, it said. Stop asking you what? If I want to return to the Inn. I dont. I want to go with you. I want to see things, even if theyre dry or dangerous. And then, when were done, we can watch movies together. Benno sighed and nodded. Fair enough. He placed Holes on his shoulder and took one more look around at the square. The white light of an approaching train cut through the mist, speeding toward the square from the bridge. Benno pulled the yellow hood of his raincoat over his head and raised Gemma to his lips. The trains horn blared as it raced forward, and then hurdled past where hed been, black smoke seething from its stack, and plunged into the flames of the mantle at the base of the tower, spiriting its solemn cargo wherever it led. [Part IV - Be Afraid] Chapter 27 - Venik Platza Someone was screaming. It was impossible to tell from how far away. It entered the circular room from the hallway ahead. The hallway turned out of sight after only a few yards. Everything was made of slick, off-white tilesthe floor, walls and ceilingwhich carried and amplified the highest pitches of the sound. All Benno could say for certain was that the scream was bloodcurdling. A scream of profound pain. Then, abruptly, it stopped. It was humid. There was a smell of bleach, and beneath, barely concealed, stale water, human waste, and mold. Benno glanced up at the lights inset in the tiled ceiling, fluorescent and garish. There was no shadow here. Just endless tiles and grout. In the absence of the screaming: the blips and breathless whisper of moving water. Its a bathroom, said Holes, scurrying from Bennos left shoulder to his right. And bathrooms are only dangerous in movies. You said so. Shhh Benno guided Holes into the flap of the raincoat. Keep your voice down and stay hidden. Holes'' petals peeked out, unable to contain its curiosity. Benno took a slow breath and started toward the hallway. The Lonely Son of the Scattered King, Langley had said, is serving out his six-hundred-thousand year sentence in the Bathhouse. Benno didn''t know what he''d expected, but it certainly hadn''t been an actual bathhouse. His right hand drifted to the waistband of his jeans and settled on the butt of his fathers revolver. He knew it was pointlessin these Realms, a gun was as useful as a glass of water at the bottom of the ocean. Benno himself was far more lethal than a gun. And yet hed brought it, and he was glad he did. It was useless but for the inexplicable comfort its presence offered. It was not a weapon. It was a talisman. It wasdespite every awful memory imbued in ita lucky charm. The hallway led into another white-tiled room. This room was lined on one side with shower heads over a low tile bench built directly from the wall. Gathered on the far end of the benchthe only thing in the roomwas a pile of rumpled clothes. One of the shower heads dripped directly onto the pile with a squishy, ominous plop. Benno wiped sweat from the bridge of his nose and continued on. Has Onus seen the movie? Holes asked. I dont know. Has the being whose appetites are conducive to captivity and torment seen it? Im relatively new to Realm travel, Benno turned down another hallway. I dont know exactly how cultural artifacts from one Realm make it to a He stopped in his tracks, his sneakers sliding on the slick tile, and instinctively folded his hands over Holes. Ahead was another white tiled room, similar to the last. This one had a glass door standing open on the wall to the left, its pane foggy with condensation. In the rooms middle, vibrant in the otherwise unmarred white room, a deep puddle of blood. And leading from the puddle, into the glass doors doorway, the blood trailed in a messy smear. Benno listened. It was quiet, save the ubiquitous blips and hiss of running water through the floors and ceiling. There was another doorway straight ahead, leading to another hallway. He would need to pass the blood and the glass door in order to reach it. He walked along the wall, giving the puddle of blood wide berth, and craned his neck as his angle aligned with a view into the room. His stomach churned. Sweat ran down his forehead. Dont look, he said, pulling the hood of his raincoat around Holes. The smear of blood led to a body. It lay face down in the small tiled room adjacent to this one, nude and ashen from blood-loss. Average sized by Bennos standards, and possibly male, though it was impossible to say for sure given the pulpy, mutilated state of its crotchthe source of the blood. Benno covered his mouth, unable, for too long, to look away from the frayed thuck of intestines protruding from between the bodys legs. The hip bones gleamed. The tailbone, coiled with blue veins, glinted in the harsh ceiling light, which illuminated the scene with maniacal clarity. Benno had, for seven yearsfourteen now?envied most death he encountered. But whatever had happened to this person, Benno might have passed it up and continued to live, endlessly, if it meant avoiding such The body moved. Minutely, as if in sleep. Its head rolled to the side, exposing the facea man, after all, it seemedand the mans eyes looked down the length of his nose, finding Bennos, and blinked slowly. Aloof, Benno thought at first, though as he stared back at the eyes he realized it was not aloofness. It was a profound, despondent misery. Benno hurried along the wall and through the doorway into the next hall. Is he gonna be okay? Holes asked, earnest. The hall buckled left and right, and from ahead, sounds rose up. CRACK. SPLOOSH. Nooo!!! Benno walked slow, his hand flitting near the waistband of his jeans. CRACK. SPLOOSH. Arrrgh!!! CRACK. No!!! Mommy!!! SPLOOSH. Arrrghhh!!! The hallway gave into yet another white tiled room, and Benno paused at the mouth and peered around the corner. A man and a woman stood near the far wall. They were nude, their skin glistening in the humidity. The man held a bundle of thin sticks, fastened together with twine, in one hand. The woman held a bucket in both of her, filled with water that boiled and seethed. Tears leaked profusely from their bloodshot eyes. Before them, fastened belly-first by his wrists to the tiled wall with lengths of chain, a young man, no older than twenty. He was also nude, and the flesh on his exposed back hung in shreds off the muscle and ribcage beneath. He wrestled with the unyielding chains, his shoulders heaving with sobs. Please!!! he implored. The manmiddle aged, his hair grayingraised the bundle of sticks overhead, and then whipped it down onto the young mans already macerated back. CRACK! Hunks of flesh splattered. The young man howled. Naaaaaa!!! The womanalso grayingheaved the bucket, splashing the boiling water onto the young mans open, bleeding flesh. SPLOOSH! Arrrgghhh!!! The flesh sizzled and blistered. Bennos breath refused to leave his lungs as he stood at the rooms threshold. Plea plea please the young man choked out through his sobs. Mommy Daddy Please stop The man whipped the stick down. CRACK! The woman heaved the bucketinexplicably fullof scalding water. SPLOOSH! Naaarrrgghh!!! CRACK! SPLOOSH! Mommy!!! CRACK! Daddy!!! SPLOOSH! Stop! Benno shouted, involuntary, his teeth clattering. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The man and woman turned and looked at Benno, their red, watering, slack-lidded eyes betraying only the faintest hint of surprise. Benno started forward, ready to cast the man and woman aside should they attempt to impede him, though neither moved. The young man turned, craning his body against his restraints, and looked back at Benno. His eyes had the same bloodshot, deadened expression as the others, tears streaming, but unlike the others, his mouth was twisted into a sick smile. Get outta here, little buddy, he said in a deep voice that didnt match his pleas. Benno stopped his approach. The young man turned his face back to the wall. The older manhis father?raised the bundle of sticks. CRACK! The womanhis mother?heaved the bucket of boiling water. SPLOOSH! The young man screamed, his voice back to its original agonizing tenor. Mommy, please!!! Daddy, no!!! CRACK! SPLOOSH! Benno back-stepped, his sneakers scrrrching over hunks of flesh scattered across the tile. CRACK! Benno could see the young mans lungs fluttering through the gaps in the back of his ribs. SPLOOSH! Arrrrrghhhh!!! He could see the complicated fractal of the spine, dented and chipped. CRACK! Benno sidled to the next doorway. SPLOOSH! Benno turned and shuttled himself away. Nooo!!! Dadda pleaaaassssse!!! CRACK! Momma dont!!! SPLOOSH! Benno wiped sweat from his eyes. # This is Hell, Benno thought, passing through room after tiled room. In one, a young woman sat crying on the floor, a large bowl of frothy soup cradled in her lap, feeding herself with a long wooden spoon. An elderly woman crouched beside her, caressing her hair with a bony hand and offering soft, comforting sounds interspersed with fits of impulsive laughter. The elderly woman defecated into her other hand, and dropped the waste into the bowl. Both women were nude. The younger womans chin glistened with the tarrish soup. In another, a nude man was suspended from the ceiling by his ankles, a funnel protruding from between his legs. Another nude man poured an endless stream of boiling water into the funnel. The upside-down man moaned, his teeth chattering, out of screams. In a third, a solemn, middle-aged man stood at one end, watching from dead eyes as a younger woman with similar features was set upon by a group of five other men. The woman screamed and pleaded as they tore at her hair and breasts, their fingers rending her skin. The solemn man masturbatedhis fist pumping in stark contradiction to his otherwise inert formhis penis raw and bruised, and just before Benno averted his eyes he ejaculated an arc of blood, which spattered on the white tile among countless other drying red stains. This is Hell. Benno thought hed known Hell. He thought the seven years hed spent in his trailer, desperate to die but unable even to bleedeven to hurt himself for a moment of balance between his mind and bodyhad been Hell. Maybe its own kind, he conceded. A kind of quiet Hell. A Hell of his own condition. But this Langley had been right. Benno didnt want to be here. Hed grown arrogant. His ordeal in Ddoaks shed, he thought, had changed him, hardened him. He thought hed embraced his infallibility as a weapon. But he had forgottensomehowthat there were other ways to hurt. He came to a room that was different than the others: The walls were papered baby blue, the floor carpeted in the kind of coarse wall-to-wall carpet found in kindergarten classrooms, and the ceiling painted a shade of blue darker than the walls, along with fluffy white clouds and a cartoonish sun, smiling down. There was a single doorway, bracketed by two conspicuously fake potted ferns, that led to a carpeted stairwell, which descended into darkness. From deep in the darkness: a distant cacophony of howls and shrieks, and a smell of excrement, spoiled meat and vomit. Over the doorway, written in childish, rainbow lettering: PAIN ITSELF Benno swallowed a hard lump. His teeth felt sharp in his own mouth. Do you know what Onus looks like? Holes asked, startling Benno who had, for a moment, forgotten the flower was with him. No. How will we know when we find him? If he looks anything like his sisters, Benno said. Well know. Do you think hes down there? Benno eyed the doorwayPain Itselfand the dark stairs beyond. The smell alone stirred in Benno a primordial instinct to flee. The distant chorus of screams pitched up into yet unheralded frenzy. I guess were about to find out. Benno nudged Holes back into the collar of the raincoat and pulled the hood low over his eyes. Then he stepped through the doorway and onto the dark stairs. # The screams melded into something like endless thunder. Benno held Gemma against his lips in the pitch black stairwell. The smell was so atrocious that his eyes itched. Gemma, he whispered, one foot feeling for the next step. Are you there? YES, BENNO. And you can get us out of here, right? Like, the, uh the boundaries arent scrambled, or whatever? RHIZOME PERMEABLE. LOCUS RECALIBRATION ACCESSIBLE. Benno exhaled, nodding slowly. Alright, he said. Its time for some light. White light spilled from Bennos hand. The stairwell was narrow. The steps were lined with the same scratchy carpetand the walls painted the same baby blueas the room above. Benno extended his arm ahead, but even Gemmas powerful light could not breach the darkness, and the stairs disappeared into nothing. Hey Gemma, lets try something, Benno said, using his elbow to rudder himself against the wall as he descended one shaky foot at a time. If I say the word lets see If I say the word Freud, will you take us right back to the Inn? Me and Holes? SURROGATE APPELLATION INVENTORIED. Just in case Benno grimaced as the screams worsened. Whats Freud? asked Holes, peering out of the raincoat. Hush, Holes. After another forty steps, Benno could see the bottom. The stairs ended abruptly at a concrete floor, and the baby blue wallpaper gave to matching concrete walls. Benno thought about the Haruspexs room. He thought about the interior of the Everson Familys mansion. He thought about the chasm over which the bridge in Luridia spanned. Dark, sooty concrete. Is this how all Realms really are? he wondered. Is this what everything looks like underneath? He hesitated on the bottom step, shining the light ahead into the concrete hallway, looking for signs of life. But only the screams and the putrid odor came forth from the additional stifling darkness. Here goes nothing? asked Holes from inside Bennos raincoat. Benno nodded, and stepped down off the stairs. Instantly, the screaming stopped. It was so abrupt that for a moment Benno thought he might have lost his hearing. But that would require some kind of injury or illness, and he wasnt going to get that lucky. And it wasnt total silence that filled the concrete hallway. There was a whisper, or many whispers all at once. A single word, Benno thought, though he couldnt make it out. He walked softly, doing his best to alleviate the scrrrch of his footfalls. He held Gemma outstretched in one hand, the fingers of his other pattering on the butt of the revolver. The smelllike walking into a sewer or morguegave him every reason to turn around. He squinted to try and better hear the word being whispered in a hundred voicesas if that would helpand thought maybe he was just starting toperfected? tournament?when the texture of the floor changed beneath his feet, and before he could come to stop he had waded into an ankle deep mess of dark red sludge. Benno gagged and scrambled back. But it was too late, and his sneakers, socks, and the bottom of his jeansand worse, the tip of his beardwere already sopping with the disgusting ooze, and he gagged again as his mind pieced together what it might be: Blood. Shit. Vomit. Chunks of viscera. Nests of hair. Frothy piss. Who knew what else, all blended into a warm, fetid stew. The stench that wafted from it boggled his mind. Gemma he sputtered. His lips traced the next wordFreudbut only air came out. Part of it was the bile flooding his esophagus and his lungs refusal to hold too long onto the rotten air. But the other part was that if he left now, if he ran away noweven to regroup, to come back prepared with galoshes and a gas maskit would be a kind of unreformable failure. What kind of coward fled from something that couldnt kill him? Was he ready to be just as useless as he was afraid? Besides, was this really worse than any of the heinousness hed encountered in his life? Yeah, actually. Yeah it was. He lifted his beard and tossed it back over his shoulder, deciding he could at least salvage that, waited until the bile settled, then started forward again. The stew of waste deepened as he went, then plateaued around the middle of his shins. Soon the hallway opened into a room. It was impossible to tell exactly how large it wasGemmas light petered out at twenty feet or sobut he could not see the walls or ceiling. What he could see were eyes. Dozens, maybe hundreds, peering out at him from the dark periphery outside of the light. They glinted with tears, and as Benno brandished Gemmahis heart pounding and his sneakers dragging strips of entrails through the mushhe could make out the flayed, bleeding visages of the eyes keepers: People, huddled away from the light, their skin gone, the exposed muscle rended and raw, tendons torn and dangling, teeth long in receded gums, all squatting and crouching in the rancid stew. All watching Benno and all whispering the same word: Permanent Permanent Permanent Benno waded through the room, turning Gemma this way and that. The throng of skinless people recoiled, and scurried to the rooms perimeter when the light even remotely touched them, and in this fashion Benno pressed deeper. Permanent Permanent Benno had heard that word not long agoat least not long ago discounting the seven years he spent in the shed, which, down here in the dark stench of this horrid place, felt as distant and porous as a dream. Mother had said it to him. Mother had called him it. Permanent. The skinless people in this pitch black room were talking about him. Benno took a shaky breath. Im looking for Onus, he said, too quiet. Permanent Permanent Benno cleared his throat and stood still in the festering murk. Onus, he repeated, his voice finding an approximation of authority. The Lonely Son of the Scattered King. Permanent Permanent Is he here? Benno turned in a circle, Gemma raised overhead, and the skinless masses drew back. Permanent Permanent Permanent The whispering accelerated into something like a chant, breathy and panicked. Onus! Benno spun. Onus! Are you here? Permanent. The chant grew faster still. Permanent. Permanent. Permanent. Permanent. Shut yer traps! a voice boomed. At once, the frenzied whispering stopped. Benno froze, shining Gemma into the rooms dark reaches from where the voice had come. There was a shape, towering over the skinless throng. Benno walked toward it, the light stuttering with his trembling hand. A person, grotesquely obese, seated on a throne of leathered flesh. A man, it seemednude like everyone elsewith an abundant penis draped over one rotund thigh, but also with a pair of massive breasts and erect nipple that leaked a yellowish liquid down his tremendous gut. His waxy skin oozed with oily sweat. His face was draped with folds of skin, so much so that no features could be discerned save a pair of shiny, bulbous lips. A smattering of thick hairs protruded from his scalp. He sat with his bulky hands on his thighs. He lifted a hand, slowly as if in sleep, and there was a bucket in it that had not been there a moment ago. He raised it over his head and poured a cascade of the bloody shit fluid across his face and body, which sizzled as it touched his skin and burst instantly into vapor. He groanedbassy and slow like an avalancheand tossed the bucket aside, and Benno was not exactly shocked as it disappeared before landing. Alright, little buddy, the huge man said, grinning a lippy grin at Benno. Lets talk. [Part IV - Be Afraid] Chapter 28 - Pain Itself Benno drew his fathers revolver. He did not raise or point it, but only held it at his side. He knew it would have no effect on this creature atop his throne of flesh. He knew it was useless. But holding it gave him some kind of relief. It brought him closer to something. The mans gigantic face turned upward, and his lips rippled, and an obscene, booming laugh rose from him. It vibrated the sludge in which Benno stood, and the thick, vile air itself seemed to quaver. Very cute, he said through his laughter, betraying something comparable to a Texas accent. Yer very cute, little buddy. Youd be even cuter with yer skin off. Benno did his best not to waver. You can try, big guy. The mans laughter waned.Yer gonna call me August in my house, he said. Now I dont have lots of rules here, and I know I cant get yer skin off. But I gotta insist you remove yer clothes at least. Yer making my chattel uncomfortable. Benno peered around at the skinless throngtearful eyes glinting from the rooms far reaches. Im gonna pass on that, too, Benno said. For a moment, Augusts huge face was still, his hanging jowls dripping with waxy sweat. Then, again, he threw back his head and laughed. Lookit you. He raised a bottle to his greasy lips and swigged greedily, purple liquid dribbling down his immense chin. Then the bottle was gone, and he held a small tin and a tiny fork, both dwarfed by his size, and shoveled mounds of shiny black beads into the cavern of his mouth. I respect yer audacity, he said, beads spraying over his lips. But dont have any doubts: Ill get you naked. One way or the other. He tossed the tin and fork away and wiped his mouth with a bloated wrist. Now, you interrupted my orgy. So this better be good. Benno cleared his throat. You already know Im here for Onus. And Im not leaving until Ive spoken to him. Its my only demand That one has his own special room. August guzzled from another bottle before dumping another bucket of foul fluid over his head. His contract is lengthy, and requires some creativity. And you might not know who yer talking to right now. Im a Warden of Sul. This Bathhouse is my idyll. I see to its maintenance and to the preservation of Suls beautiful Gray Wastes. He raised a cormous hand and snorted a small mound of white powder from the crook of his thumb into the folds of his face. And in return Sul preserves me! He gnashed a hunk of seared meat from a greasy turkey leg with his enormous, glassy teeth. You cant hurt me in here anymore than I can take yer skin off. So when you walk in making demandswell I take that as an affront, and a foolish one. And maybe you need a reminder that pain can come from all kinds of places. A shape appeared on Augusts lap, and Bennos blood ran cold. A dark haired boy. A face Benno knew. The boy looked at Benno, dead-eyed and naked, and before Benno understood what was happening, Augusts hands had rummaged the boys body in a brutal and grotesque series of molestations. Bennos lungs turned to lead and he dropped his eyes to the sludgy floor, and when he looked back up the boy was gone, and August was dumping another bucket of fluid over his face, which hissed against his skin, and he moaned and sighed. So watch yer tone, and check yer entitlement at the door. Benno took slow breaths through his nose. August was in his mindlike the Haruspex, he reasonedable to see images and nothing more. The boy was an illusion. His face had been differentoff enoughthat he appeared like a composite, something cobbled together from Bennos memories. He was not the real thing. There was no world in which he was here, suffering, all this time. There was no world What exactly is this place? Benno probed. Some kind of afterlife? August plunged a syringe into the flank of his thigh and injected something reddish. When you die, you die, he said. Only Sul has jurisdiction over death. This placeall my chattel are alive and well. The bloodshot, tearing eyes peered out of the skinless faces in the dark. Benno exhaled, satisfied, at least, that August was telling the truth about that. Which meant his wife and son were safe. Safe in the empty infinitudes of death. So this is a prison. Benno said. August smiled a bank of glassy teeth. Not to me. And you get off on inflicting misery. One mans misery You see, in truth, theres no difference between one sensation and another. Feeling is feeling. Its yer aversion that makes them seem boundaried. But down here, me and my chattel, we strike down those boundaries. We revel in sensationevery shape and size. It all blends into a perpetual plane of pleasure and pain. All one. Sul taught me that. He licked his lips. And we all get what we deserve. There was a man upstairs, Benno said. A young man. Being whipped and scalded by his own parents. What could he possibly have done to deserve that? What a lack of imagination, August laughed. That young man wasnt sent to me. It was his parents. They are the ones being punished. Benno turned this over in his mind, a condition that hadnt occurred to him and now elevated the whole scene into a new strata of nightmare. What did they do to end up here? Augusts breasts trembled as he laughed. Do you ask what your hamburger did to end up on your plate? Then how do you know they deserve it? Everyone deserves it. Benno felt Holes creeping slowly toward the collar of his raincoatcompelled by curiosityand as inconspicuously as possible he adjusted the collar higher, guiding Holes to a stop as he did. What is Sul? August slurped down a mucusy oyster from a barnacle-caked shell. The smoke asks what the fire is. Benno had heard the word before. Somewhere, a long time ago Sul draws gray wastes ahead And for some reason, his memory churned forth a pair of headlights, coming too fast toward the side of the car Why dont you stay, little buddy? August said. I can pull up a chair for ya. He patted the leathery skin throne beneath him, then gestured around at his cowering chattel. Its the greatest show on any earth, and at the very least I can promise youve never seen anything like it and never will anywhere else. Benno nodded solemnly, as if considering the despicable offer. There was this riddle my mom used to tell me and my brother, Benno said after a few seconds. Back when we were little kids. Its one of my only memories of her, which is weird because I was old enough to remember more. But she feels like a dream, like a dream that dissolves after you wake up, gone more completely every second that passes Augusts oily skin glistened in Gemmas light. A sick man is given an opportunity to see both Heaven and Hell before he dies, Benno went on. Hes taken first to Hell, where he finds an enormous banquet hall, and people sitting around tables covered in plates upon plates of delicious looking food. The people in this banquet hall all have forks that are four feet long. And theyre miserable and starving. Next hes taken to Heaven, and is surprised to find the exact same thing: a banquet hall with tables covered in delicious food, and people sitting around the table holding four-foot long forks. The difference is that here in Heaven, the people are joyous, and well fed. Augusts shiny lips parted, then closed silently. So what was the difference? Benno asked. Augusts rotund shoulders rose and fell. See in both Heaven and Hell, Benno said. The forks were too long for people to feed themselves. So in Hell, they were unable to eat, and thus miserable. But in Heaven, they simple fed each other across the table. And they were happy. The room was silent save for Augusts slow, deep breathing. This room where you keep Onus, Benno said. How do I get to it? The grotesque trenches of Augusts face churned. You dont know when to quit, do you? He snorted another mound of powder from the outside of his hand, then coughed thrice, brown spittle whipping across his lips. When he regained his breath he looked at Bennoor at least appeared to from the folds of fat over his eyesfor a long moment. It was true Benno could do nothing to hurt him. He was a Warden of Sul after allwhatever the fuck that meantbut it was also true that he could do nothing to hurt Benno. A stalemate, then. At least for the moment. Tell you what, August said finally. You have something you need to tell the Lonely Son, you tell it to me, and Ill make sure to pass it along. Benno kept his hand on the butt of his fathers revolver. That wont work, he said, surprised and satisfied with the sturdiness of his own voice. Ill be taking Onus with me. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Augusts face rippled. And when did you decide that? he asked, his deep voice betraying unease. When I decided theres nothing you can do to stop me. Augusts lips spread into a wide smile, his glassy teeth glistening, but the smile shrunk away quickly. I could make you lost in here forever. Maybe, Benno said, his fingers tracing the shape of the revolvers handle. But I can make things hard for you too. He drew the revolver and leveled it out to his side, toward the throng of eyes huddled in the dark. BANG. One of the skinless chattels heads bloomed into a pall of brains, and its raw, broken body sploshed into the murk. The rest of the throng made no effort to flee. BANG. Splosh. BANG. Splosh. Augusts throne of skin whined as he shifted his weight, his fleshy hand clutching the armrests, his wet lips hanging open. You mentioned Onus was under a contract, Benno said. I suspect the rest of these poor people are as well. Thats what gives you control over them, why they dont try to flee. But without that contract, your influence is a bit impotent. Thats a dangerous assumption, little buddy. The creases of Augusts face wobbled. But its a good one. BANGSplosh. Because if you could stop me BANGSplosh. you would have by now. There are always more chattel. Okay. BANGSplosh. BANGSplosh. Gemma, I need more bullets. A rain of golden bullets fell from the air, and Benno managed to catch a handful before the rest disappeared into the ooze. He loaded them slowly into the cylinder. Wait. Augusts voice was tremulous. Just hold on a goddamn second. He pattered his thick fingers on his thigh, his leg jouncing. Benno swatted the cylinder shut and aimed the gun back into the throng. Maybe we can work something out, August said. Just just give me a second to think. He adjusted his bulbous penis with a greasy hand. Just a second BANG. Splosh. Alright! August boomed, his voice an octave higher. Alright. There is something. Something you can do for me, in exchange for an amendment to the Lonely Sons contract. What? An errand. Benno waited. One of the few handicaps of my position, August said. Is that I cant leave the Bathhouse. Not that I would ever want to. This place is perfection. But Theres a message I need delivered. Long overdue. Benno continued to hold the revolver out to the side, its muzzle unmoving. To who? To my wife and son. Benno blenched. Nothing about this beast signaled a propensity for family, for sentimentality, for relationships of any kind. It made no sense that someonesomethingso cruel and violent could have the capacity for tenderness. Could be involved in another life to any end beyond destruction The revolver felt suddenly heavy in Bennos hand. Where do they live? They dont. August poured another bucket over his face. Theyve been dead longer than you or anyone you know has been alive. So how do I deliver a message to them? To their graves, August said, dragging a pair of cigarettes simultaneously. Theyre buried in the necropolis of Noth. A dignified Realm. Fit for them. He plunged another syringe into his thigh, and shuddered faintly as the reddish fluid disappeared into him. I used to visit them all the time, before Sul touched me. Of course preserving the Gray Wastes is the great privilege of my long, long life, but it is not without its Handicaps? August grinned. Yer good for this errand. Perfect, in fact. Seeing as yer already a congregant of Sul. I do not worship Sul. Everybody worships Sul, August licked his lips. Whether they know it or not. Benno allowed the revolver to drop slightly. And what are their names? How will I know their graves when I see them? August chewed his fat lips with his glassy teeth for a long moment, the folds over his eyes twitching. I dont remember, he said. Youll have to find them yerself. And what is the message? You know it already. Benno hoisted the revolver back up. I am done playing games with you. August cracked his knuckles, each one splitting like a gunshot. I will remind you, then, he said, his deep voice betraying relish. Benno looked over at the gathered eyes in the dark, and the eight skinless bodies floating in the sludge. The message is simple. August snorted with glee. Tell them Im glad theyre dead. Tell them their deaths freed me. Tell them, when I drove them into the path of that car, it was the best choice I ever made, because I just wanted to be left alone Benno fired the revolver BANG. but this time into Augusts tumescent gut. The oily skin rippled and tapered inward, and Augusts wide, glassy smile widened. Yer gonna have to do better than that, little bu Benno had dropped the revolverand Gemmainto the murk, plunging the room into a crimson haze. He saw nothing but Augusts execrable face as he mounted his lap and drove his hands into the folds of his oily lips. Augusts laughter sputtered into a gag, and his huge hands groped at Bennos back. Benno gripped the Wardens jawsone hand on the top, one on the bottomand pulled. The bones whined, and resisted. The tongue writhed. Benno pulled harder, glowering into the dark throat beyond, unthinking but for a manifest rage. August gurgled and pulled at Bennos clothes. His huge legs kicked, and his lap bucked. Benno clenched tighter, rooting himself, his arms shaking with exertion and his muscles crepitating as he strained, harder and harder, tearing the Wardens mouth wide, his mind burning with visions of two graves, a coil of charred metal, bloodstained fur, a beaten boy cowering, a town desolateduntil the jaw popped, and the tension gave, and August bayed with agony as Benno tore the ugly head into two halves of frayed flesh and an arc of hot, thick blood. A gust of hot wind howled forth from the cavity. Benno panted, his mind flooded with red, his fistsclosed around flabs of bone and fleshshaking. Augusts body convulsed beneath him, then shuddered, then twitched, and was still. And as Bennos rage and adrenaline receded, and his vision returned, he looked down into the mutilated thuck of Augusts head, where, looking back at him, was his own flushed face. There was a mirror. A mirror lodged in the folds of bleeding tissue. Benno tried to drop the hunks of face, to reach for the mirror, to withdraw it or smash it. But his fists were stuck tight. So too were his arms sutured to his sides, and his legs bound by some monstrous force, and he could not look away from his own eyes. He tried to speakto curse August for his final duplicitybut the sounds that came out were not language. Instead, a horrible spate of consonant gibberish emerged, and the mirrors glass shook so that Bennos reflection trembled as if with terror. He could do nothing but look on as his eyes darkened, withered, and turned to dirt, which spilled from his sockets. His teeth too crumbled from his gums, and his tongue desiccated into something like a sponge. The gibberish descended into a droning sound that bombinated from the toothless cavity of his mouth. His thoughts panicked into incoherence as, in the oval of the mirror, he watched a section of his forehead bulge and blister, and the skin and plate of his skull break open. Inside the hole quivered a tenebrous dark where his brain should have been. Then something stirred in the hole, and emerged, and a pair of small, raggy creatures scuttled forward and peeked out. They were no bigger than mice, but their faces, swathed in oily cloth, were human. And despite their mummified and shrunken state, Benno recognized them. The two most familiar faces in the world. Not composites. Not cobbled together. It was them. Dead and shriveled and small. But it was them. Their little hands scrambled onto Bennos scalp and perched there, then leapt into the glass of the mirror, which splashed and rippled like bloody sludge, and as it settled, Bennos reflection began to change, to calcify and etiolate, until soon it had shrunken into a gray pyramid, suspended in the air. The mirror darkened into nothing, but the gray pyramid remained. And as it hung therelike an unbounded and misshapen planet alone in the bowels of spacewords came. Voiceless, silent, and yet, deep inside Bennos vanished mind, profoundly and completely familiar. dlorsulproxim dlorsulgrammath The pyramid hung in endless nothingness, the only material aspect of an otherwise empty world. It chattered silently, rapid and delirious. dlorsulmisdlorsuldenotondlorsulbref Benno felt nothing. He was not in the Bathhouse. He had nothing to speak with. He had no body. There was no time. dlorsulmetamaldlorsulanafor And all at once the pyramid grewor rushed toward himand swallowed his vision and everything else, and he was amidst a sprawling homogenous waste of gray, all gray without fault above and below. Then he was falling, backwards, down and down through the gray, faster and faster. dlorsulsynactocondlorsulsemiadlorsulpaladex And landedsploshon his back in the blood and shit. He flailedat once back in his bodythe putrid sludge filling his nostrils and throat, ears and eyes. He hauled himself to his feet, his eyes blurry with muck and his heart thudding, gagging and retching as he managed to snatch up Gemma and the revolver before stumbling through the shin-high ooze and back into the concrete hallway. He threw off his raincoat, and tugged his soaked and stinking shirt over his head. Holes scrambled up his neck and clung to his head, dripping shit and blood. Behind him, the skinless chattelunshackled from their silence and whatever state of trance August had kept them ensnaredstarted screaming. Benno kicked off his shoes as he ran up the stairs, and tugged off his sopping jeans. His slick socks slid on the steps, and he hopped on one foot at a time to pull them off. As he neared the top of the stairsthe fake ferns bracketing the doorway aheadhe tore his underwear off and tossed them behind him, and tumbled out of the stairwell and into the blue room, where he collapsed to his knees, his skin slimy, his beard soaked and rancid, and panted and heaved. Behind him, the shrieks pitched. And in his mind, the silent words unfurled. dlorsulepitondlorsulnotadlorsulidicaldlorsulhoros Benno touched his head, from where it felt like the seething silent words came, and started as his fingertips touched something. It protruded from his forehead, underneath his skin. A point. A pyramid. In the spot where the hole had appeared, the hole from which his wife and son had crawled. He trembled as he probed it. He could feel, from the narrow seam between its base and his skull, that it rose through the bone. There was no painthere was never pain, safe, foreverbut his skull had been opened. There was something under his skin. His skull had been opened. There was something under his skin. Benno stood slowly, his mind hemorrhaging countless small, desperate thoughts. There was something under his skin. His skull had been opened. For fourteen years, the misery couched deep in the folds of his mind had grown arrogant. And rightly. It had nothing to fear from him. Its house, his skin and skullhis bodywas impenetrable. But now His skull had been opened. There was something under his skin. Benno was so distracted with the implications of this revelationand by the relentless delirious gibberish dlorsullexigogdlorsulconcest that for nearly a minute he stood naked, his eyes trained on the floor, his fingertips roaming the new addition to his anatomy, oblivious to the gaunt, pale man who had lurched into the room and now sat on the floor, a blanket draped over him like a hood, his damp skin littered with thousands of deep, white cuts, watching Benno from orange eyes. When Benno finally looked up, he startled, and covered his crotch with his empty hand, the other clinging to both Gemma and his fathers revolver. Holes, its threads clinging to Bennos hair, the bloody sludge dripping off its plasticky petals, spoke first. Im Holes! The man did not react. He watched Benno from a face resemblant in so many ways of his sisters. Even seated on the floor, he and Benno were eye-level. He was anywhere from thirty to sixty years old. Hello, Holes, he said finally, his voice robust and weary at once, his Luridian accent a bit more clippeda bit rougherthan the few previous examples Benno had heard. His eyes peered deep into Bennos from beneath the blanket, grave and earnest. I dont believe weve met, he said. But I think I love you very much. [Part IV - Be Afraid] Chapter 29 - Children of the Fog Benno swashed waist-deep in the ocean, scrubbing his beard vigorously with a bar of soap. The smell had permeated deep. He could just cut it off, shave it down to the skin, but then August had won. And Benno wasnt ready to concede anythingor any moreto that despicable creature. His beard was a trophy. He would salvage it. He went through two bars of soap, a bottle of shampoo, and handfuls of conditioner, until, after nearly an hour, the stench had relented enough that Benno was confident, with a bit of time and another wash or two, it would be gone forever. Holes floated on the soft waves, laughing and mewling as they rose and fell. Benno waded to the beach, dried himself, and dressed in a set of fresh clothes. dlorsulimpudlorsulquatedlorsuleten Onus remained hooded in his blanket. Hed insisted on seeing where Edda was buried before he did anything else, and hadnt moved from the spot since theyd arrived. Waves lapped gently, wetting the length of the blanket at his feet. Benno absentmindedly fingered the pyramid protruding from his forehead. dlorsulrosdlorsulnonac How did she seem? Onus asked without looking up. Benno dropped his hand as if hed been caught picking his nose. Sorry? Before she died, how did she seem? Was she calm? Was she manic? Benno chewed this over. I only knew her for a few days, but Calm, mostly, I guess. She was very determined. Onus chuckled sadly. When she was young, she once walked the length of Central Luridiaeighteen milesin a flood, against our mothers explicit orders, just to get a book signed by an author she liked. I cant even remember the authors name You two had the same mother? We were yokes. What does that mean? Just as you said. We had the same mother. Me and her. The only two. Onus pulled the blanket tight around him, and shivered despite the warm, humid air. She was my yoke. She understood me. She had one of the greatest minds, with all its inconvenient complications, that ever came alive in this cataclysm of existence. A warrior. An artist. Insane. Enlightened. A radiant, inspired lover Benno raised an eyebrow. What was that? Onus looked at Benno from around the edge of the blanket. I know in Realms like yours, incest is anathema. But where were from, there is no biological disincentive. Our offspring are strong, and we have flourished for millennia. Edda and I Had certain events not transpired The two of us He gave up. Benno ran his tongue along inside of his mouth, trying not to betray his discomfort. The Everson Family Onus shook his head. She took a profound risk in dealing with them. Id warned her, the last time we spoke Do you know what it was? That incensed them enough to chase her down and murder her? Bennos stomach roiled. He hadnt even meant to omit the part of the story where he himself had drawn the ire of the Family by meddling with their property. But it just didnt make it into the brief version of events hed relayed after leaving the Bathhouse. And now, with an opportunity to set the record straight, he found he couldnt bear it. Not from a fear of Onus anger, but from a fear of his own shame. I dont know, Benno said. It must have been some grievance from before I arrived. Onus nodded, seeming to accept this, and looked down at himself reflected in the cracked carapace for a long moment. Did she speak with you about it all? he asked eventually. About what all? Onus blinked. About the Gardens? Benno asked. Onus blinked again, slowly. That was the only reason I was here, Benno said. Or at least the main reason. He thought for a moment. I know she was looking for it, and found it once. At least once. And I know your father managed to enter it. Thats about where my knowledge ends. I will tell you everything. I would appreciate that. Onus nodded, and returned his eyes to his sisters grave, and was silent. Did you ever meet the others? Benno asked. The members of her crew? No, Onus said in a way that signaled to Benno he wasnt interested. He closed his eyes and lowered his face. You favored death to life at last, and welcomed your apocalypse with fiery grace, leaving nothing but indecipherable ruins in the endless rain Benno focused on the lapping of the waves, and Holes joyful exclamations as it tumbled along the surface of the water, trying to ignore the relentless, silent words unfolding in his mind. dlorsulbrevdlorsulexplidum Until another sound joined the waves and Holes shouts. A stifled, bitter sound: Onus, fighting not to weep, his eyes leaking and his breath catching, his teeth bared. Benno fingered his beard, conditioned to awkwardness at the sight of another man crying. A condition inherited from his father. But why should Benno feel anything but resounding sympathy? He himself had cried, and cried, and cried so much over the last sevenfourteenyears. He was not his father. What his father had inherited from his father did not need to pass beyond Benno, not anymore. Gemma, give me a few tissues. Onus took a shaky breath as he received the wad of tissues from Benno. He wiped his nose and his eyes, and then smiled softly. Gemma, he said. I remember Gemma. Though last time I saw her she was larger. He nodded to the coin-sized disc in Bennos hand. I should have one, he said. So you arent forced to provide for every single of my needs. Benno frowned. This is the only one left. I buried all the others with the crew. No matter. Onus sniffled and lowered the blanket from his head to his shoulders, exposing a head of close-cropped blue hair. We will go to the console and have a new terminal cast. It is simple. He turned and started off across the beach, toward the lonely door of the Inn. Benno turned Gemma slowly in his hand. Hold on a second, he called. Onus stopped. Purely out of curiosity Benno looked for the words. What exactly did you do? Or what exactly were you accused of? To end up in the Bathhouse? Onus jaw flexed. I understand, he said. The Gemstoke is a dynamic tool. He sauntered slowly back to Benno. I am indebted to you. You saved me from an agony I cannotwell, you saw it with your eyes. And if Edda trusted you, then I trust you. Unconditionally. But I know your trust must be earned, and I respectno I value your caution. He looked out at the ocean, his orange eyes filling with wet light. As I already promised, I will tell you everything. Edda should have divulged more to you about her tribulations, and her aims. Though Im sure she had her reasons, and I mean not to disparage her now. Regardless, the time for obfuscation is over. There is work to be done. I will start at the beginning. # Edda and I were close in age. Only fifty-eight years apart. Im older, as you can tell. But conjugal siblings born within a century of one another, where were from, are considered twins. I think you have a similar consideration in your type of Realm. And other than Tig and Phosthe now untrue rulers of LuridiaEdda and I were the only ones. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The birth of a son occurs only once every ten thousand years. My father was the only son born to his, and his to his, and back and back. I am only explaining this because I believe that in your Realm, boys and girls are born with roughly equal frequency. Which seems strange to me. But of course your Realm and mine are far more similar than they are different. There were thirty-two daughters born before me. The eldest, Enfre, was six thousand years my senior. After her was Hollis, then the twins Tig and Phos, then Caln, then twenty-nine more daughters until me. And that should have been it; once a son arrives, there is no reason for further conjugal procreation. Byblow procreation is always ongoing, of course, to maintain the population. But inheritance ends at the son, and it always has. But our father and our mother I do not want to say they loved one another, because I do not believe Horus to be capable of love, but he mustve lusted for her, and fifty-eight years later, Edda was born. It may seem inconsequential to you, but it was a major scandal at the time. My rule was a birthright, and our father devoted his attention to me from the moment of my birth. My older sisters had prepared for this their whole lives, and most had already inherited outpostsif not entire Realmsfrom their mothers, and they were busy with overseeing businesses and colonies. So my relationship with them could best be described as indifference with an undertone of resentment. This is normal. Edda, on the other hand, having never known a world without me in it she adored me. And being so close in age, we were effectively raised together. Wherever I went, she was there. Even during palaver with my fathertypically private meetings between father and sonEdda would come along. Horus welcomed her; she was not threatening to the succession of power. She was the runt. In our fathers eyes, she was an extension of me, and a harmless one. But the other conjugal sisters did not see it this way. Especially the Twins. To them, Edda enjoyed undue privilege. They suspected her of exploiting the chance of her birth to infiltrate delicate discussions on the machinations of rulership. Additionally, they saw her as a mistake; to them, having been born after the Lonely Son, she should not exist at all. And as time went on, their grievances worsened, and she was loathed. This loathing pushed her and I closer together. And both of us closer to our father. Early on, things were fine like this. Horus prepared me to lead. Edda was at my side. There were whispersand the occasional shoutsof indignation, but in our fathers good graces we were safe. None would risk incurring Horus wrath. And Edda was not without her allies; the byblow daughters related to her, perhaps because she was, like them, an outsider with the conjugals. And the conjugals knew this. And though it infuriated them further, it also stilled their hands. My rolewhich I didnt ask for, of course, as no one asks to be bornwas not enticing to me. It was necessary for the future of the Nations survival in the most literal sense, but I found the abundant copulation exhausting and, frankly, disgusting. Say what you will. I also took issue with the general aggressive comportment of Luridias geopolitical policy. For many, many thousands of years, the Nation had conglomerated its wealth through domination and dominion. It controlled thousands of Realms, and those Realms resources. The promulgation of power was Luridias creed. It was the Overlord of the Ensemble. A violent ambition. There were wars. Constant, endless crusades. The blood on our hands was long stained and still dripping. I may not have known better if it werent for Edda. In her heart, I believe, was an inclination for justice and peacea rebelliousness. And she was brilliant. She read so much. Books from all Realms. She internalized philosophies and practices, theories on economics and ethics, civil engineering and psychology. She wrotetreatises and diagramsoutlining processes for withdrawing armies, restoring autonomy to colonized Realms, allotting reparations, elevating qualities of life for everyone. We laid together deep into the early hours of the morning, and she articulated a vision for the Nation of Luridia that used its immense resources to help rather than hinder. To comfort rather than control. She convinced me. I was ready to follow her. I performed my duties as my fathers heir, but obligatorily. My mind, my body and my heart were with Edda always. So yes, I wanted to rule, but I wanted to rule with her. We were ready to lead a revolution. It was all ahead of us. Though none of that would come to pass. A few years before my three-hundred-and-fiftieth birthday, something happened. I only heard rumors of it at the time: Some catastrophe in a distant Realm with which Luridia had no involvement. It was a Schema D Realm, like yours, called Chavanuck. Nothing of any consequence should have occurred there, and I gave the rumors little thought. But Horus went to investigate. He was gone only a few daysa short stretch I remember as significant because in his absence I had, in a sense, my first taste of rulership. And when he returned, he was different. At the time, I got the story from his Hand, Agnes, who traveled with him. She described a Realm in the throes of an existential panic. Something had appeared therea force, a creature. It was infallible, Permanent, like you. But not just that. It could manipulate matter and energy with its mind, without limit. It could, it seemed, command time itself. No one knew why. This was Sul. The Realm of Chavanuck was in crisis. Governments were falling, and the populations reassembling themselves around the sudden new law Suls presence issued. But my fathers concerns were far more personal. As Agnes told it, when Horus entered Suls palacean enormous gray pyramid erected in the middle of the Realms largest cityHorus first order of business, upon standing before Suls throne, was to test its Permanence. He fired upon it, which resulted only in the needless deaths of numerous bystanders. Sul, accustomed by then to being tested, seemed barely even to notice. In fact, its utter disinterest in Horusthe King of Luridia and ruler of the largest conglomeration in all the Realmsinfuriated my father, and inflamed his hubris. Feelings of inconsequence and impotence were not familiar to him. He returned to Luridia with an obsession, and his own existential panic. Horus was always unamenable. But in the years that followed his meeting with Sul, he became downright wrathful. His authority had never been threatened. He abandoned all duties of governance, including our palavers, and spent all his time fixating on a reclamation of his supremacy. One of the few times he spoke to me during this period, he referred to Suls influence as a cancer, which if not ablated would metastasize throughout the Ensemble, Realm to Realm. And while Sul was certainly capable of such proliferation, it never seemed to show any interest in anything outside Chavanuck. It never challenged Horus or anyone for dominance. So my fathers obsession was not only futile, but misguided; Sul was not a cancer metastasizing through the Realms. It was a cancer metastasizing through Horus mind. And it drove my father mad. Desperate and injudicious, he consulted with pseudo-scientists, disgraced mathematicians, rejected engineers, cult leaders and the mentally ill. He subjected himself to experimental procedures, his mind and body punished by ritualists and lunatics. He visited distant and dangerous Realms to practice baseless blood magic. He took the company of depraved individuals who promised him power with no evidenceindividuals with psychotic and sadistic intentions. Among them was the Gunthean oligarch August Kane. And there were otherstwo in particularwho we will speak of later. They became Horus primary advisors, whispering in his ear about fictitious methods that would render him as unmovable as Suland all the while bleeding his and Luridias resources dry. After many hundreds of years of this obsession, during which Horus obligations to Luridia and its ancillary Realms fell largely to Edda and mea task we struggled with given that the resources required to effectively govern, let alone make change, were still under Horus and his advisors controlEdda and I made a plan. It was not a plan we wished to implement, but one that was necessary. If he was allowed to remain in power, Horus would bankrupt the Nation not just of capital, but of its future. We had a responsibility, as its heirs, to save Luridia from threats both external and internal. And we had help. Horus decline had brought us closer to our conjugal sisters. Enfre, the eldest, at that time oversaw an enormous trade company. She was particularly determined to remove our father from power, lest all she had worked for in her own enterprises collapse. But our plan was never actioned. We were not careful enough. The Twins, Tig and Phos, betrayed us. They warned our father, hoping that doing so would elevate them in his graces and in the echelons of successiona plan that ultimately worked. Horus, in his madness and desperationand knowing deep down, I think, that he had ruined the support of his daughters and wiveslashed out at the nearest threat, which happened to be Enfre, and killed her. He thence fled Luridia, returning to Chavanuck with his clan of degenerate advisorsAugust and the two othersas well as the Twins. At that time, Chavanuck was in the throes of a great War; I know few details, but somehow a group of tenacious Chavanuckians had found a way to fight back against Suls increasingly destructive reign. My father and his adherents offered to fight alongside Sul in exchange for a share of its supremacy. Sul accepted, and with their assistance the War was won at the ultimate cost to the Realm of Chavanuck, which was left lifeless and desolated, an endless gray waste. Soon after, whatever demented pact Sul made with Horus and the others was implemented. It was surely not what they expected: August and the other two advisors were made Wardens of Realms over which they had total control, and Permanence. But they could not leave those Realms, and with unending life also came eternal imprisonment. The Twins were given the same Permanence, and were made Wardens of a different kind. But with it, they were transformed. Once beautiful, they are now vile and corrupted. Not just in body, but in thought. And my father Sul kept his mind like a trinket and tore his body into pieces, which it scattered to his children: His intestines to Hollis, one eye to each twin, a brain to Caln, lungs to Anais, the liver to Ren bones, organs, viscera Something for everyone. A heart for Edda. A demented mockery dangled before his children. A taunt. After that, Sul altered the rhizome of Chavanuck so that anything trying to enter was eviscerated. And it dislodged the Realm, sending it floating through the Lacuna, nomadic, and nearly impossible to find. In Horus absenceand with his living eyes as attestationthe Twins exploited their Permanence and Wardenship to make a power grab. They nearly assassinated Edda, but she managed to escape, and went into hiding. I was not as lucky. They killed my associates and arrested me, charged me with insurrection, and sentenced me to six-hundred-thousand years of labor. I escaped from that camp, but was recaptured and re-sentenced to six-hundred-thousand years in their friend Augusts Bathhouse. That was seven hundred years ago. In there I was deprived of information. I could only hope that Edda was hard at work. Hard at work locating the Gray Wastes of Chavanuck, and finding a way inside. To do what? Benno asked. Onus looked at him. To kill Sul. [Part IV - Be Afraid] Chapter 30 - Mad Inside The pyramid cast a gray shadow in the upper quadrant of Bennos vision. They had relocated to Eddas apartment. Recipient sat draped in Onus lap, purring. The curtains were open, and the low sun bled across the water, turning the rooms white marble pink. Holes was nestled in the crook of Bennos shoulder, and was, as far as he could tell, asleep. With Sul dead, Onus went on. The Wardens would lose their providence. The advisors. The Twins. Our father, the Scattered King, would expire both in body and whatever bleeding fragment of mind is left in Suls possession. Edda and I could retake Luridia. We could rescue it and its ancillary Realmsmany trillions of livesinto a better age. So theres no Gardens, was all Benno could think to say. The Gardens is what Edda liked to call Chavanuck. It was facetiousor maybe strategic. After the War, most called it the Gray Wastes. Things have many names, dont they? Benno exhaled. But theres no being giving out wishes. The only being is Sul. And though it is certainly capable, I do not suspect it is in the business of granting wishes. Benno rubbed his face, shook his head, and glared into a corner of the room. Onus had changed into a set of white clothes that fit loose on his long body. The thousands of white cuts across his skin were already appearing to healthough it may have been a trick of the reddish light. What would you have wished for? he asked. Benno shrugged. What does it matter? Onus ran a knuckle along the line of his jaw. You were touched, he said. For some reason, you were touched by Sulthe only other besides my father and his acolytes, and the only outside the Realm of Chavanuck. And differently, it seems, than any other. If there was doubt, it is gone. You killed a Warden of Sul. You tore his body open. The implications of this cannot be overstated. It changes the calculus. dlorsulanimacdlorsulsigandlorsulvoc Why do they call it Sul? Benno asked. The Wardens started referring to it as such after the War. I dont know why. Onus studied Benno. Do you? dlorsulhevegdlorsulbistandlorsulket No. Bennos fingers prodded at the pyramid in his forehead. What is this? I dont know, Onus said. Some unforeseen symptom of killing a Warden. Why? Why what? Why was I touched by Sul? I didnt ask for that. Im not of any use to it. Im just Im nobody. Onus shook his head. If I knew, I would tell you. Benno took a slow breath. Why him? Hed asked the question a million times, with not a single inkling of where or how to seek an answer. And now, with so much information, the answer seemed, somehow, even more elusive than before. Benno was nobody. He was nothing like August Kane or the other advisors. He was nothing like the Twins or the Scattered King. He had absolutely nothing in common with any of them Wait. Benno sat forward. If the others lose their providenceand their Permanencewhen Sul dies, does that mean I will also lose my Permanence? Onus looked deeply at Benno. It may. Through the window, something leapt from the water, glistened in the dying light, and splashed back down. Edda had the heart, Benno said eventually. Caln has the brain. The Twins have the eyes. What do you have? Onus sneered at the wall. Id rather not say. He scooted Recipient off his lap. But you will see for yourself. The Twins will be coming for me. And for you. We will stop at my cabin. I need to retrieve something, for what comes next. And what does come next? Onus grinned, his teeth wide and straight like his sisters, and for the first time Benno saw the proud man behind the scarred and sorrowful face. Im going to need a few minutes to figure that out. # Benno made his way back to his roomhis new room, next to the old oneand sat on the bed. Holes stirred on his shoulder, then again was still. Benno could sleep too. But when he closed his eyes, the silent words dlorsulceptadlorsulepicasdlorsulrot rushed and seethed. So he stared into the rooms corner, where the floor lamp with its beige shade stood, leaning slightly, as the minutes lumbered by. I thought I was done with you, he said eventually. Nice to see you too, creep. Benno adjusted his beard so that it draped over his thigh. Really embracing the wandering Jew look, huh. Jason wheezed from the mangled passage of his throat. Just when I thought you couldnt get any more fucking uncouth. I dont think you know what uncouth means. As long as you do. The mustard carpet under Jasons boots darkened with melting ice. So whyd you drag me back here? Jason asked, leaning an inch forward. I thought by now youd have it all figured out. The goal. The plan. Youd be well on your way. Benno thought for a moment. Im trying to reconcile something, he said. Im trying to reconcile the version of Edda Onus describedthis impassioned revolutionary committed to peace and decolonizationwith the terrifying woman who gleefully oversaw the murder of two helpless Forrorians, and celebrated the recapture of a Bababaksum at the expense of how many? hundreds? thousands of innocent lives? They dont seem like the same person. And I cant help but feel that someones being lied to. And its probably me. The gaping holes of Jasons swollen nostrils widened and contracted. People can be different things at different times, he said. I mean look at you, creep. Youre the most murderous piece of shit I ever metthough maybe Im a little biased. But thats not what you are to Onus. Thats not what you were to your family, not really. And to yourself I think youre a bit of both. A monster and a victim. Just like Edda. Just like everyone. Benno moved his beard to the other thigh. But I dont think thats really whats bothering you, Jason went on, leaning another inch forward. I dont think thats why Im here. So then why? Benno asked. Jason shrugged. Why are you asking me? A knock came to the door. Holes startled and raised its petals, groggy. Benno blinked at the lamp in the corner for a moment, then stood. Come in. Onus poked his head into the room. Whenever youre ready, he said. Ill be in the hangar. I figured we should travel in style. Benno nodded with what he hoped approximated agreeableness. Ill be there soon. Onus grinned and shut the door. Are we going on another adventure? Holes asked, its voice hoarse with sleepiness. Through the bathroom doorway, half of Bennos body stood in the mirror, small. Try to sleep a bit more, he said, touching Holes plasticky petals. Youre going to need your strength. Holes curled itself on Bennos shoulder and fell promptly back to sleep. Benno sat down on the bed, folded his hands in his lap, and had a good, long cry. # Ah, the Shenandoah. Onus played at the vessels console. Hed changed clothes again, this time into a leather one-piece replete with straps and buckles that reminded Benno of something Billy Idol mightve worn. His blue hair was slicked back from his face, and Benno was certain now that the scores of white cuts across his skin were, in fact, healing rapidly, most already too faint to see. I love what shes done with it in here. Onus gestured to the bridge without looking up from the screen. Though Im not sure how I feel about this new interface. Benno sat at the table, drumming his fingers on his knee. Sorry I cant be of more help. Onus waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder. Nonsense. Ill have this sorted out in moments, and well be on our way. He dangled a finger over the console. I just dont understand why she insisted on ciphering everything so aggressively. He tapped something, then something else. Between this and the journals Benno sat forward. Could you read them? Hm? No. She was far too meticulous in her code-making Though I suppose her paranoia was a virtue, until it wa Music blared suddenly. I call you when I need you, my hearts on fire Onus grimaced. Benno chuckled, his absentminded drumming finding absentminded rhythm. I never did get her taste in music! Onus swatted at the console. So meek! You come to me, come to me wild and wi The music cut off. Benno cleared his throat and adjusted his posture, briefly disappointed. Ah, here we are. The screen glittered to purple life. Onus swiped and tapped a series of triangles until he found the one he was looking for. I dont plan to spend much time there. You wont even need to disembark unless you want to. He nodded at Benno. Are you certain we need to bring that with us? Benno raised his eyes. The pyramid obscured any sight of Holes, perched on his head. Yes. Of course. Onus bowed, slight and cordial, signaling deference, and it occurred to Benno that the Luridian heir wasand how could he not be?afraid of him. Here we go then. He tapped a final triangle, and the bridge went dark. # Onus cabin, as it turned out, was anything but. Beneath a uniform gunmetal sky, on a gentle hill surrounded by acres of craggy rock, arid shrubs and grapevine, the elaborate building sprawled with numerous ells and wings, balconies and terraces, courtyards, plazas and gardens. Finials, adorned with stars, lined the green-copper roof. From the hovering Shenandoah, it looked to Benno like the baroque palaces hed seen pictured in history textbooks as a child, Schloss Solitude or, more so, the Palacio Real de la Granja. It was alone on the otherwise rural landscape, with no road visible through the gently sloping hills of rock and clusters of brittle plants in all directions. Like so many other things Benno had encountered since being taken from his trailer, Onus mansion could have been a celebrated landmark in Bennos own Realm, inconspicuousbesides for its opulent grandeurin every single way but one: If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Floating over a rectangular pond lined with statues, reflected back in the gray water, was an enormous severed penis, erect at an angle so that its head reared over the mansion. That sucks, Benno said. Onus exhaled briskly through his nostrils. Well put. He guided the Shenandoah down over a patch of dirtbadly in need of weedingand landed it with a lurch. It doesnt appear as neglected as I feared, Onus said, stepping away from the console as the doorway melted open on the side of the hull. Benno followed him out onto the dirt. The air was cold and dry, and smelled faintly of mint. Holes scurried from Bennos head onto his shoulder. This wont take long, Onus said as he headed toward the mansion. Have a walk around the grounds. Theres a statue garden just on the south side. He disappeared around a brittle hedge and a second later the sound of a door opened softly. Benno strolled along the perimeter of the patch of dirt, where small beige rocks were spaced, each one engraved with a different foreign symbol. He stooped to pick one up, and hefted it in his hand as his eyes crept up to the penis, whose tip protruded over the top of the mansion, menacing. Do you like him? Holes asked out of nowhere. Who? Onus? Yeah. Benno shrugged. Do you? Holes threads tickled Bennos neck. Whys he so mad? Mad? Benno tossed the rock away, and it clacked on the hard ground. He hasnt said anything that makes me think hes mad. Not said Holes made a soft whistling sound. Hes mad inside. Hes mad inside? Like how Jack is mad even when hes being nice. Or even when he isnt doing anything at all. Just mad. Benno chewed this over. Why do you think Jack was mad? Holes went on. Do you think the Overlook made him mad? Or was it something in him? I think its complicated, Benno said, looking up at the mansions finials. I think he had something in him, like everybody. But I think the Overlookor the circumstances he found himself in inside the Overlookmade it come out. And I guess with Onus He does have a lot to be mad about. Why didnt it come out of Wendy or Danny? What do you mean? You said Jack had something in him like everybody. Wendy and Danny is everybody. They were in the Overlook too. They found themselves in the same circumstances. But they didnt get mad. They stayed nice the whole time. The mansions crenelated roofline was still against the unblemished sky beyond. So what was different about Jack? Holes continued. Why did the Overlook make his madness come out but not Wendys and Dannys? Smoke Benno squinted into the gray sky. Smoke was different about Jack? Theres smoke. Benno pointed to the roof, where a faint tendril of gray smoke rose up from an unseen chimney, blending seamlessly into the gray sky. Holes turned its petals upward. Is that bad? Lets go check on Onus. Benno cut through the patch of dirt and rounded the hedge, where a glass door stood ajar onto a row of pale curtains. The mansions interior was both unsurprising and eerie: a long, high-ceilinged hallway with polished granite floors and walls, exactly as grand as the buildings exterior suggested. But beside for the curtains lining the glass doors along one side, there was no furniture. No carpet, no artwork, no adornment of any kind. There was, however, a pale strip along the length of the floor where it appeared a carpet might have lain for a long time, and similar pale rectangles on the walls where framed pictures might have hung. The place had been cleaned out. Probably, Benno reasoned, around the time Onus was locked up. Benno scrunched his eyes shut and trained his hearing first up one end of the hallway, then the other. There was a sound, faint. Rustling. A shoe scuffing, maybe. Or a grunt. The hallway bent sharply right and came to a set of tall double doors. Benno pushed through them and stepped into a yawning room where Onus stood, panting, his hands stained red. At his feet, a body. A man, small like Benno. His white bathrobe was tangled around his waist, his arms tucked under his body, his face flat on the floor. Beside him, a fire poker, its point lying in a puddle of blood. The fire raging in the enormous mantle on the far side of the room crackled and spat. What happened? Benno asked. Onus startled and turned. His pale face was flushed, and his orange eyes wild. A squatter, he said. He came at me. He pointed to the fire poker. Benno took a step deeper into the room. There was a wooden chair set near the fire, with a small table beside it on which a short stack of books rested. In the far corner, a modest bed stood, neatly made, a nightstand with additional books beside it, and a wooden chest at the beds foot, open, with folded clothes. In the opposite corner, a bucket with a sponge balanced on its rim, a towel hanging on a nail protruding from the wall, and a toothbrush in a cup. A squatter, Benno said. He came at you. I startled him. Onus cleared his throat and, noticing his bloody hands, wiped them on the black leather of his one-piece. Who knows how long hes been here. I had a groundskeeper, Golo, who came by a few times a year, but Im afraid hes long passed on. No bother. Onus nodded briskly and grinned his proud grin. Its taken care of now. Benno watched Onus cross the room to another door. You may as well join me, Onus said over his shoulder. Since youre already inside. You said you were grabbing a few things, Benno said. But it looks like the place has been cleaned out. Yes. Onus opened the door into another hallway. The Twins had everything removed after my arrest. Or at least everything they could find. Benno glanced down at the body. He couldnt see the face. The head, arms, legs and back were flecked with clumps or wiry gray hair. An old man. No threat to the eleven foot tall Onus, future King of Luridia. Certainly not barefoot, clad in a bathrobe, and armed with a fire poker Benno followed Onus at a mindful distance. The hallway brought them to a wide staircase, which led to a landing and additional hallways. At the end of one, a door, inlaid with intricate floral patterns. Onus took the handle and pushedbut it was locked. For fucks sake. He pulled his newly minted Gemstoke from one of the numerous pockets in his one-piece. Gemma. Give me a Whatever. An axe. Benno felt Holes threads tighten around his shoulder. Onus bit his bottom lip as he raised the axe high overhead, his back arching, and swung it down with all his strength. CRRRCH! The axe splintered the doors panel. I dont like this. I dont like this. Holes burrowed against Bennos neck. Its okay, Benno placed his hand gently on the flowers plasticky petals. Its not like the movie. Onus wrenched the axe free, raised it, and brought it down again. CRRRCH! Mad inside CRRRCH! CRRRCH! Onus tossed the axe asideit vanished into silenceand stuck his arm through the jagged hole in the door. He felt around until he found the bolt, turned it, withdrew his arm, turned the handle, and opened the door gently. After you, he said, his straight teeth glinting. Benno kept his hand over Holes as he stepped around Onus and through the door. Another large room, this one totally and completely empty, with another fireplacecoldon the far wall and a row of curtain-less windows overlooking a weedy garden and, beyond it, the stiff, looming penis. Still smells the same in here, Onus said, standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips and taking a deep breath. Like coffee and cigarettes. Speaking of which. He raised Gemma to his mouth. Gemma. How about two espressos. And two Pall Malls He pointed at Benno and raised an eyebrow. Benno shook his head. One Pall Mall. Gemma manifested the espressos, in plane white cups, and the single cigarette. Onus placed the cigarette in his lips, the espresso sloshing over one cups rim, and handed the other cup to Benno. Being back hereGemma, fire. Onus lit the cigarette and breathed deeply. It makes me so nostalgic. Watching the sun come up over the gardens after a night of reverie. Sleeping late into the afternoons. The lack of rainwhy my father chose this place after a lifetime in the paludal Luridia. He gave it to me for my hundredth birthday. A cabin to escape the demands of rulership. He told me to bring friends here, lovers. I only truly had one of each. He lowered his nose over the espresso and inhaled. A retired life. All but forgotten. Though never forgotten He raised the cup. To retired lives. Never forgotten. Im always here. Benno raised his cup. To retired lives. They drank. Well. Onus tossed the empty cup away and fixed the cigarette in the corner of his mouth. Lets get on with this. Gemma, I need a marble. Glass. Benno watched as Onus plucked the marblejust a normal glass marble like the ones he and his brother used to play with as kidsfrom the air, surveyed the floor, and set it down at a spot near the middle of the room. For a few seconds, the marble was still. Then it started to roll. Slowly at first, but faster and faster, in a wide arc, and a narrower arc, until it was circling one point on the floor, no bigger than an inch, and finally slowed to a stop there, at the imperceptible nadir of the room. Onus stooped, picked up the marble and tossed it away without taking his eyes off the spot on the floor. He knelt, and, with the tip of his long middle finger, tapped thricetwo times quickly and once after a pauseon the spot so gently it was possible he didnt make contact at all. And again, for a few more seconds, nothing happened. Then there was a click, and when Benno looked over, a rectanglea doorwayhad opened on the far wall where before there were no seams or apertures of any kind. Onus stood. Nothing like a good old fashioned trapped door, he said, heading for the new passageway. Just springs and hinges. Edda built it when she was very young. Benno followed, balancing his undrunk espresso. The doorway led to a narrow staircase made ofsurprisedark, sooty concrete. Onus held a light outstretched in his hand as they descended. A smell of dust and old wood came up to meet them. The staircase gave into a small chamber. Benno felt the floor change under his feet before he noticed the layer of wood flooring. Onus tugged a string dangling from the ceiling, and a warm glow replaced Gemmas glaring light. It wasnt much: a small chamber, the walls wood-paneled, with a single wooden table against the far wall. It was a normal room. On the table, however, was an object so strange that at first Benno couldnt even process its dimensions. A white sphere, it seemed, for a moment, then a white cube, then a cuboid, then a cone, then some multi-angled shape with no name, then a cone again, then a sphere, then something else. It didnt morph, but rather flickeredspasmed, Benno thoughtfrom one iteration to the next, moment to moment, like a flame fighting through a log. As he peered at it, he noticed that it wasnt even on the table, but rather floating just over it, mere centimeters. It cast no light. It appeared to be made of plastic, or metal, or flesh, or Thank goodness. Onus stood over the table, looking down at the object. I was nervous for a moment, that it wouldnt be here. But it looks like the ingenuity of a hidden doortested by timehas proven effective once again. What is it? Benno asked, wanting to look closer butinexplicablyafraid to get near. This is the Tefached. Onus said, indulging the pharyngeal fricative, which caught Benno off guard. It is a weapon passed from father to son, to mark the changing of one generation to the next. It isaside from the mandate inherent in heirdomthe most useful tool for maintaining order and authority, and what gave Horus and his forefathers their incontestable dominion. I would have inherited it when I inherited the Nation from Horus. And yet here it is, Benno said. Onus laughed. Indeed. Back when things werechaotic in Luridia, before my father left for Chavanuck to make his unholy pact with Sul, I managed to take part of the Tefached from his quarters. I had a feeling that Horus mental state might continue to deteriorate, and I needed some assurancesome advantageagainst anyone who might attempt to interrupt my birthright. Unfortunately, my foresight was only partial: I stowed it here, thinking there was time, but was arrested shortly after. So here its remained, tucked away. Not even Edda knew Id taken it. There was heat emanating from the Tefached, Benno noticed, warming his face but dissipating almost instantly into the cool, dry chamber. You said you took part of it. So Horus still has the rest? Onus shrugged. I dont know what need Horus would have for the Tefached in his current condition. But yes, in short. The bulk of it remained with him at the time of the War he fought in Chavanuck alongside Sul. Wherever it is now, I cannot say. How does it work? Onus grinned. You will see. He removed the stub of his cigarette from his lips and stomped it out on the floor, then stood over the table and extended one long hand toward the Tefached. As his fingers neared, it bent and reached back toward himnot unlike the magnetic sand Benno used to give his students to play withand spasmed faster. Onus gasped as his skin made contact, and the Tefached curled and fit around his fingers. He lifted it, breathing quickly, eyed it for a moment, then stuffed it into a pocket in the chest of his one-piece, tamping it down when it roiled back up briefly and then zipping the pocket shut tight. We need to keep moving, he said, starting back to the stairs. We are supremely lucky to have not crossed paths yet with the Twins. They are undoubtedly mobilizing to find us, and it is only a matter of time before they do. And where are we going now? Benno asked, following. To recruit another member to the team. Someone I hope can be of use. A bricoleur, she called him. At least thats how she referred to him in her personnel log. As I said, her journalsas her thinkingare off limits to us, but I was able to squeeze some information out of Gemma. Benno shut the trapped door behind him, which vanished seamlessly into the wall, and continued after Onus, who was already out in the hall. And where do we find this person? He is being held, like I was. Another political prisoner? Onus tilted his head this way and the other as he strode down hallway after empty hallway. Perhaps. They passed through another set of curtained glass doors and into a courtyard. The penis cast a long shadow on the dirt and the side of the mansion despite the uniform gunmetal sky concealing any sign of the sun. Benno navigated the hedges behind Onus. So were off to another prison? Its not so much a prison as a zoo, Onus said as the Shenandoah appeared ahead beyond a gazebo carpeted in brittle vines. Beverly likes to amuse her children with her captives. It isnt enough simply to collect emolument. Everything is for the Family. He stopped outside the Shenandoah and fiddled with his Gemstoke. But you know all about her. I dont know anyone named Beverly, Benno said, slightly winded from the quick jaunt back to the vessel. Ah, thats right. Onus raised Gemma to his lips. Gemma, open the Shenandoah. The doorway dissolved from the hull. She insists on being referred to by that ridiculous moniker. I will never understand the eccentricities developed by those with chronically sublunar clout. He stopped in the Shenandoahs doorway and turned back to survey the mansion, his smile faltering as his eyes crawled over the looming head of the penis rearing over the roof. So yes, you know her by a different name. He looked at Benno. But to me she will always be Beverly. Elderly Beverly Everson. Onus disappeared into the vessel. Benno stood on the dirt, staring at the doorway. He was still holding his cup of espresso. He sipped it. It was cold. He saw Eddas face, her wild blue hair flaring like a wraith. Do you have any idea what youve done?! The shadow of the penis darkened the patch of dirt. Do you have any idea what youve done?! He sipped his cold espresso some more. [Part IV - Be Afraid] Chapter 31 - The White Door II Pink neon flashed on the black surface of the lake. The strange cacophony of insects or birds roiled from the forest, trills and clicks, machine-like buzzing, the occasional deep, harmonious hum. His first time here hed been compelled to venture and explore, to set eyes on the creatures that scampered and flew amidst this place. But hed seen so much since then, and most of it had been ugly, and he welcomed a pang of mourning for the boy within him, deader now than ever. Onus climbed the steps three at a time, Benno hurrying along in tow. Benno could stop this. He could reason with Onus that their time was better spent elsewherethough no alternative occurred to himor simply restrain the Lonely Son. He could make the decision to go no further. But making decisions was not Bennos strong suit. When he made decisions, people died. He was meant to follow, silently, unmovable, like time itself. But that didnt mean he shouldnt preempt the reckoning that was crashing imminently toward them. I need to tell you something, he said as he followed Onus into the elevator on the far end of the enormous room with its gears churning high overhead. Onus peered out through the rusted metal gate as it slammed shut and the elevator lurched downward. The smell of this fucking place He steadied himself with a hand on the rutted wall, then wiped his palm on his thigh and scoffed. She is so arrogant, he said. No security. Doors wide open. She thinks she has nothing to fear. She thinks she has no predators. But everything has a predator. Even you. Benno traced a finger along the seam under the skin between the pyramid and his skull. Theres something you need to know, he tried again. Her daughter is the same. My sister Adelay. Arrogant and naive. Horus twenty-first daughter. Of no import or influence, and yet traipses around like she owns everything. This family His nostrils flared. There are no consequences. No respect. This is the Nation the Twins built. She would not have behaved so imperiously if my father still reigned, or if I had not been imprisoned She would not have dared The elevator stuttered and whined along the stone shaft. To have the nervethe impudenceto murder a conjugal daughter of Luridiaover what? Some disagreement? Some debts unpaid? Onus wrung his hands, glaring at the elevators sooty floor. How dare she. The thug. Onus. Benno spoke loudly. Onus turned. Theres something I need to tell you. Benno cleared his throat. About Eddas death. The elevator thudded to a stop, and the gate rattled open. What is it? Onus asked, his orange eyes muted. I know why Benno searched for the words. The Everson Family, they killed Edda and the rest of the crew because Because I heard sad rumors came a voice like stone scraping glass. Benno and Onus swung around. She stood in the middle of the corridor, layered in shadow. Her pale face stood out against the dark lengths of her robes and mitre. One long black fingernail stood raised alongside her head, unfathomably still. Onus had repositioned himself half-behind Benno, and guided him forward with a soft but insistent hand. The Implacable Cock of Horus, Mother rasped. Emancipated before his time. And the Deracinated Permanent. Her dark eyes coruscated from the pit of her sunken sockets. Come to meddle again with my sad property. Onus hand wavered briefly at Bennos back before resuming its position, and he stooped down so his head barely peeked out over Bennos shoulder as they progressed, slowly. Mother stood as still as a stone. I dare say, Permanent. Your sad time could be so much better spent than cavorting with thieves and traitors. You have no right to pass judgement, Beverly, Onus said, his voice hissing with anger. Not after what you did. Mothers finger disappeared into the shadows of her robes. I have every sad right to be proprietary. The Heart of Horus understood that my decision to do business with her was fraught. For me most of all. I have relationships with your other sisters. A relationship with the Twins. Edda was expected to tread lightlymore lightly than others; this is the price she paid for access. She was expected to mind her actions. And the sad actions of her staff, as they always are, were extensions of her own actions. Onus wide hand relented its forward guidance on Bennos back. What did you do? he whispered in Bennos ear. They slowed to a stop beside the enclosure with the giant newtwho appeared to have grown more eyes in the last seven yearsits long tail glowing with fungi. I see, Mother said. Like Edda, you do not know the company you keep. Onus breath was damp on Bennos neck. The Permanent entered my fortalice unwelcome and destroyed an item in my collection. Mothers voice grated at Bennos ears. The same item the Heart and her staff had labored to retrieve. So not only was it a sad violation of my holdings, but it was also a terrifying betrayal of Eddas trust. I made a mistake, Benno said softly, turning his face in Onus direction. I was desperate. The Bababaksum promised me death, and I believed it. I know now it was foolish, but at the time I just wanted to be finished. I just wanted to be done with all of it. Onus wide hand lingered at the middle of Bennos back. It was my fault, Benno went on. Everything is my fault. Edda, the crewthey didnt do anything wrong, and theyre all dead. All because of me. The town of Middle Forest, the Forrorians, the people on that train my family Everyone is dead because of me. He guided Holeswhose petals emerged curiously from the collar of his shirtback down against his chest. Everyone I touch dies. Youll probably die too. Onus hand slid off Bennos back. Mother watched from the dark pits of her eyes. He is a catechumen of Sul, after all. The only sounds were the blips and splats of water dripping from the slick ceiling. This is Onus voice was strained and laden with conflict. This is unfortunate. In Bennos periphery, he could see Onus hands moving along the front of his one-piece. I suppose I was naive. Onus teeth clicked as he spoke. I should have known that you would never use violence against a conjugal daughter of the Scattered King for any reason less than absolutely necessary. And as youve described it, your retribution was indeed necessary, and your choices sound. A zipper whhhred. It was of course Eddas responsibility to monitor the activities of her staff. She should have been more carefuland most importantly, more respectful to you. After all, you are one of her fathers wives. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. The folds of Mothers robes stirred, her face unmoving. And I should be more discerning about the company I keep. Onus stooped lower behind Benno, his head dipping to the height of Bennos shoulders. Both Edda and I should have known better. If our mother raised us as well as you raised Adelay and your other children, we would never have been so reckless. Benno felt heat on his back, which dissipated quickly. Onuss hand folded over Bennos shoulder. So on Eddas behalf, and on mine, I am sorry for the trouble youve been caused. I am sorry for our insolence. You gangly, repugnant hag! Benno lowered his chin and folded his arms over the lump where Holes hid beneath his shirt as a black shape whipped from the recesses of Mothers robes. At the same moment, another shapea white shapeblurred from behind him and met Mothers black tendril with a peal of thunder and a flash of crackling light. The newt scrambled to the back corner of its enclosure as Benno ducked aside and landed against the rusty bars. He hugged Holes as another peal rang out, and another flash of sharp light left floating shapes in his vision, which he blinked against as he peered up. For a moment he didnt understand what he was seeing. And even as the moment passed, his mind was unable to compute a clear nature of what Onus had become. The best he could determine was that Onus had widened. But this was not exactly right. He had bloated. His eyes bulged from his sockets, his cheeks domed outward, his nostrils gaping and his tongue protruding through his swollen lips. His normally slender physique dilated with hills and ditches of inflamed muscle. His fingers ballooned. His skin and blue hair had turned paper white, and his leather one-piece whined and ripped away from his body in threads. And surrounding himlike a scaffold around a skyscraperwas an eye-aching circuitry of white lines. They dancedspasmedfrom thick to narrow to nearly imperceptible and back to thickrearranging themselves from one dizzying geometry to the next from one instant to the next like fire gnashing through a log. He lumbered toward Mother, casting heat so immense Benno felt his beard singe as he passed. Mother back-stepped, her dark eyes betraying an unnatural sentiment: fear. Her robes rustled, and another black tendril flailed forward with the same devastating force that had torn Edda and her crew to shreds. But when it met the maze of white filaments surrounding Onus, it ruptured with a bark of thunder and a tangle of black tendons and dark, ferric blood. Mother screecheda painful, rending soundand slumped forward. Still more black tendrils whipped out from her. Two of them collided again with Onus scaffolding and exploded into shards. But a third struck at Benno. Benno lifted his palm to intercept it. The impact on his forearm was immenseas powerful as anything hed ever feltand vibrated his body. The tendril retracted, bent sharply where it had struck Benno, thudded onto the damp ground, and retreated back into Mothers robes. Onus advanced, his excrescent eyeballs staring. The white lines rearranged, weighting themselves forward and condensing. The water puddled in the ditches of the rutted ground hissed into vapor as he stepped through it. Mother collapsed onto her knees. She looked up at Onus from her shadowed eyes, her pale face bent in pain. Her long finger appeared, trembling. Usurper she rasped. Onus loomed over her. Be afraid! he rumbled in a voice like smoke and fire. I am the Wielder of Vorethe TefachedKing of Luridia! Son to All My Fathers! You have defaced the figure of my family and denigrated our name! You have grown spoiled and irreverent! I will rend you from your body and annihilate your children! I will devour your Realm! Beg for lenience so that your death is more bitter! Mother shook, her mitre slipping back to reveal sparse strands of oily black hair. Your father would be so disappointed, she said, barely a dry whisper. The maze of white lines spasmed and coalesced into a circuitous node at Onus chest, and Mother lifted her hand over her face as they shot forward. At first it appeared they had simply passed through her, like light through a prism. But then the thin lines started to thicken, and as they did, so did Mothers body. She howled as her black robes tore and the ashen skin beneath shredded apart in volleys of spraying red worms. The lines withdrew, leaving fist-sized holesscores of thempunched throughout her torso and limbs. Then more lines cut from the node at Onus chest and beat down on her in arcing blurs of white, battering her until the dimensions of her body were indistinguishable from the silty ground, and all that remained intact was her head, the face locked in a gawping shock of agony. Onus took yet another step forward, so that he nearly straddled Mothers obliterated body. He extended one tumescent white hand toward her, as if to help her up, and a spasming vertex of white linesthousands or moreraced down his arm, off his fingers, and besieged Mothers head. Her eyes flexed in a final expression of agony as the lines darted and pecked at her, and again Bennos eyes failed at first to discern what was happening until he noticed that her head was diminishing. First the skin, then the writhing flesh, then the black skull beneath and the thuck of red worms and brain couched within, all eaten away in imperceptible bitsperhaps a molecule at a timeby the frenzied white lines. Until, within seconds, there was nothing left but the smear of robes and red worms that had once been her body. Onus looked down from his bulging eyeballs, which seemed they might pop free from his sockets at any momentbreathing in deep, smoldering breaths. Then he reached his thick fingers into his swollen mouth, forcing aside the huge white tongue. He gagged as his hand worked its way deeper, past the knuckles, nearly to the wrist, and lurched forward. The white scaffolds spasming tightened around him, working its way back through his pores, and his monstrous musculature receded back to something more human, and his eyes deflated, and soon he appeared more-or-less himself, save for his torn clothes, and he gagged again and withdrew his hand, in which the Tefached spasmed, once again concentrated into its ever-changing series of shapes, and he stuffed it into the front pocket of his ripped one-piece. For a long time he stood, his back to Benno, staring down at what was left of Mother. I do not blame you, he said finally, his voice hoarse. Edda understood the risks of dealing with the Everson Family. Beverly was temperamental and cruel. If it hadnt been your mistake, it would have been something else. Benno used the rusty bars to pull himself to his feet. He tugged his collar open and peered down at Holes, who looked back at him with something like anticipation. I should have told you earlier, Benno said. I was ashamed and Im sorry. Onus tented his eyes with a hand. Benno ran his fingers down the length of his beard. So thats how Luridian kings colonized the Realms, huh? Onus shrugged, his palm pressed flat over his face. Pretty intense. Benno glanced in at the Newt. I mean, the colonizing is bad enough, but adding all that into the mix Onus massaged his temples. Are you really going to annihilate her children? Hm? Onus looked up from his palm. No. I just Its just part of the whole speech. Benno nodded. Onus cleared his throat, straightened up, and turned around. Were alright, he said. You and me. There is no one to blame but Beverly Everson. And shes dead. Benno nodded again. So. Onus forced a grin. We came here for another reason. He stooped down and felt through Mothers pulpy remains until his hands located something, which he scooped up before continuing down the corridor toward its shadowy end where, barely visible in the dark, a pale shape stood. A white wooden door. Benno followed. In the enclosure where, seven years ago, the Bababaksum was held, there was now what appeared to be a pile of broken glass, about waist-high, right in the middle of the floor. There were additional enclosures past it, but Benno stopped paying attention. He watched Onus pass into the dark of the hallways extremity. In there the Bababaksum had promised. Death Benno slowed to a stop beneath the final torch. Onus, no more than a dark shape, took hold of the white doors brass knob. Death But not Bennos death. There was no such thing as that. So whose? Onus worked the long brass key hed taken from Mothers robes into the doors keyhole. He turned it until it clicked, then took hold of the knob, which whined and gave. Not Bennos death Onus pushed the door open. It moaned on its hinges, revealing beyond a perfect, quavering darkness. Hello Onus spoke at a normal volume, standing back from the door. It is Onus Bram Loticus Bellacord. The Lonely Son of Horus Bellacord. Brother of Edda Contrejas Loticus Bellacord. I am here to release you, and to seek your guidance. Death But not Bennos. For several seconds, nothing happened. Holes had emerged from Bennos collar, and peered out through narrow petals into the darkness beyond the door. Something stirred and came forward. So whose? A face. A man. Bennos height. Roughly Bennos age. He wore trendy glasses and a Polo shirt. His blue slacks were rolled up so that his ankles were visible above his loafers. He stepped into the doorway, expressionless, and blinked out into the corridor. Not Bennos death It is good to meet you, Onus was saying, though his voice was drowned from Bennos ears by the roar of pulsing blood. So whose? The man took another step into the corridor. He was a finance guy. Big into crypto. He grew up in Fairfield and owned property in Oakland and Manhattan. He was upstate for a conference at a resort in the Catskills. His license was suspended at the time. Not Bennos death. This is Benno Haim. Onus gestured. He has been integral in arranging your freedom. Benno, meet This man Bennos voice was barely a whisper. He could hardly remember the sentence hearing. Hed given a victim impact statement. He could not remember what hed said. But he remembered the face. He remembered the man. The mans eyes were concealed behind the dim light refracted in the panes of his glasses. Onus frowned. Do you know each other? Not Bennos death This man Bennos breath hardened in his throat. This man killed my family. [Part V - Into the Woods] Chapter 32 - Mosquitoes dlorsulphrendlorsulabicadlorsuloremdlorsulfingdlorsulmecataldlorsulhep The silent words unfurled. dlorsulamusdlorsulthekdlorsulperpetdlorsulnix Seething like desperate breath. dlorsultusdlorsulcollandlorsulfentdlorsulapraprost An endless dying breath. Bennos vision swam. He was holding something so tightly that the bones in his hand groaned. From far awayas if deep undergroundOnus spoke. iterations tend to encounter iterations from one Realm to another. A particularity of the intercorrelate fabric of No. Bennos own voice sounded even further away than Onus. Its him. The manChristopher Ryan, 42 at the time of the accident, originally from Fairfield, Connecticutlooked at Benno with no expression at all. Everything about him was the same, except that he was fourteen years older. His clothes were the same clothes hed been wearing that night, down to the cuffed pants. That night hed also looked at Benno with no expression, standing not far from where Benno knelt in the middle of the road as hail whipped down through the smoldering glow of his brake lights. Bennos mind had already filled with the sound of his sons dying gasps and the smell of his sons brain. Hed looked at Christopher Ryanhis glasses filled with red glow of the cars brake lightsnot connecting in that moment that he was the one responsible, that this was his fault. Hed reached to him, as if somehow he would know how to undo this, how to close his son and unpin his wife and take the sound and the smell out of Bennos memory. Benno had reached for him. And Christopher Ryan had turned and run off down the road, disappearing from the tangle of broken lights and knotted carsone so much worse than the otherand whatever he did in the hours before the police found him he would never reveal. dlorsulgosdlorsulebidestdlorsulhovacdlorsulces Benno Bennos mind issued forth the smell into his sinuses. Iron. Raw Fat. Something else. Benno A soul. Benno. Why?! Bennos hand shot from the rusted bar of the near enclosurehis palm coated in splintered metaltoward the shape beside him. Onuss eyes gaped as Bennos hand found his throat. He tried to recoil, to stand upright, but Bennos gripand his arrant immovabilityheld him where he was. Christopher Ryan watched on. Why is he here?! Benno growled. Onus long fingers flitted at Bennos wrist, then down to the pocket on the chest of his one-piece. They fumbled at the zipper for a moment before falling away, slack. His eyes fluttered and his face turned a dark purple. Bennos arm trembled. Holes scurried up onto the side of Bennos head. Youre hurting him, it said. Youre hurting him really bad just in case you dont realize. Onus face went as blue as his hair. dlorsulpolitdlorsulanatamdlorsulhethdlorsulfius An endless dying breath. Iron and raw fat. Holes threads tugged at Bennos ear and hair. Youre going to kill him. dlorsulsarmdlorsulagondlorsulethigy A soul. dlorsulret The smell of his sons soul Bennos hand opened. Onus fell to his knees, sucking a mouthful of air. His neck was dimpled with the ridges of Bennos fingers, and already bruising. Christopher Ryan looked at Benno from behind his torchlit glasses. Why is he here Benno turned and walked off down the corridor in the direction of the elevator, pulling Gemma from his pocket as he went. Why # The A/C was broken in the security booth. It may have been broken all year, as far as Mitch knew, but tonight was the first night of the season it was needed. 81 and humid as a dogs ass. Hed asked Jackson for a fan, but the bastard said they didnt have any available. A lie, Mitch knew, since hed personally helped unload at least a dozen of them after the prisons basement flooded back in the winter. But what was he gonna do? What Jackson said was fucking scripture around here. No fans meant no fans. Mitch would love to see how fast a fan showed up in the boothor, more likely, how fast the A/C got fixedif Jackson was the one doing a twelve hour shift out here. By 2am, Mitch couldnt take it anymore. He stepped out of the boothagainst protocoland leaned on the barrier to smoke a cigarette. It wasnt much cooler out here, and within minutes he was swarmed by mosquitoes. Fine. Fuck it. Maybe hed get malaria and go on paid sick leave. Or was malaria fatal? Who cared. After thirty-three years working the security booths and visitor checkpoints at this hellhole, Mitch was ready to go. Though a beer before he went would be nice. Maybe a steak, too. He heard the radio hiss through the double-pane glass inside the booth. Probably Teddy leaning on the intercom again, the fat idiot. They might as well get rid of the goddamned intercom altogether with how rarely anything of any importance happened around here. Sure, the inmates lost their shit sometimes and cut each other openbut that was their problem. And it was always over and done with before the COs even got to the action; their whole job was dragging some bleeding scumbag out of gen pop and into the infirmary, where they stitched up his gut on the taxpayers dime before tossing him back to the hyenas. Mitch figured it made more sense to just pull out the staff, lock the doors, and let them deal with each other once and for all. At least then he could sit in his own apartment, where the A/C worked. At least then he could have a beer andwhy the Hell not?cook up a steak. He flicked the butt of his cigarette away and waved at the cloud of mosquitoes who descended on him in the absence of the smoke. Down the port road, just past the first tier gate, a possum skulked toward the base of Guard Tower 1. At its top, Mitch could see the blue glow of whichever useless CO was on duty up theres cell phone. He considerednot for the first timethat working in a prisoneven in a security booth just outside a prisonwasnt so different than being locked up. Sure you could go home at the end of your shift to wallow in whatever shitty life waited for you, and they paid you enough to make rent or a mortgage if you were lucky, but those things were about as meaningless as a boner in a gunfight. Mitch had spent thirty-three years of his life in and around this place, longer than most of the inmates he was charged with overseeing. He was serving his own sentence. He wiped the sweat from his face with a sleeve and slid open the guard booth door, glancing out toward the road and the lonely, useless traffic light, which cast the hot pavement in red. There was a shape, coming down the port road. Another possum, probably, casting a long shadow. But it was tall. Way too tall for a possum. A deer? Mitch squinted against the red light backlighting it. Not a deer. A person. A man. He was walking fast. His ridiculously long beard, braided the whole length, swaying around his ankles. What in the good ol fashion fuck? Mitch stepped out from the booths doorway and stood facing the approaching man. The man walked with both fists clenched, his head angled down at the road, his eyes looking out from beneath his brow. Can I help you? Mitch raised a hand out toward the man. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. The man continued toward himclose nowand did not respond. Excuse me. Mitch took a step back, remembering that his radio was on the desk in the booth. Sir, this is a state prison. Private property. There was something on the mans shoulder, purple in the red light from the road, that looked like a flower. Sir. I need you to stop there. The man did not stop. Move aside, he said, his voice severe. Unlike the COs inside the prison, Mitchon booth dutyhad a service weapon. He took hold of its grip, his sweaty palm sliding along the rubber. Im not gonna ask you again, he said, walking backwards now at the same pace the man approached. This is a state prison and youre not allowed on the premises. You gotta turn around. The man continued forward. The goddamned radio Mitch craned his neck back toward guard tower 1 and the blue light of the cell phone. Hey! he shouted. Hey! We got a problem! The blue light did not falter. The man had closed the gap between them. Mitch unclipped the retention band on his holster and slid his weapon out a half inch. Come on, man, he said. The hell do you want to go in there for? What are you thinking? His back hit the gate. The man, finally, slowed to a stop, just feet away. Step aside, he repeated. Mitch pulled his weapon free and held it prone at his side. Last time Im gonna say it. You need to turn around and leave the premises. The man looked at him from dark eyes. There was something about him that made Mitchs chest cold. Mitch had been around bad guys for thirty-three years, but most of them were only dangerous to themselves. This man, on the other hand. This man was dangerous to everyone. He was the kind of man that exuded danger. The kind of man who had the upper hand even when the other man was the one with the gun. You dont have to hurt him, piped a voice that didnt come from the mans unmoving mouth. Mitchs eyes darted around the dark port road. Who the fuck said that? he asked. Who else is here? The man took a slow, seething breath. I dont want to hurt you. Move. Now. If Mitch raised his gun, from this distance, the man would be close enough to grab it from him. Sure, Mitch could pull a trigger pretty quickhe placed second in his high school marksmanship regionals back in 87but again What the hell is going on down there? Mitch looked up. J.J., on guard duty tonight, had finally pulled his face out of his phone long enough to figure out there was something that needed his attention. He leaned over the towers railing, his head a dark shape. Better late than never, Mitch conceded. And welcome. Because J.J. also had a service weapona big oneand from up there, the man with the long beard and bitter eyes couldnt reach it. Need a hand, Mitch called up. Got a visitor off hours. What are you doing, guy? J.J. shouted. Its two in the morning. The man stared straight ahead. Not at Mitch. Through him. I think theres someone with him, Mitch called up. I dont see them but I heard them. Im calling in to oh-eight. J.J.s head disappeared. Mitch took a slow breath, sweat running down his face. Alright bud. You want to be in jail tonight, you got it. Only itll be at county up in Ellensville. So why dont we just take a few steps back and wait for this to run its course. The man stepped forward. You dont have to hurt him! the voice implored again, and though Mitch knew it was impossible, he swore it came from the thingthe flowerperched on the mans shoulder Stop! Mitch raised his weapon. It was instinctive, and instantly regrettable. The muzzle ended up less than a foot from the mans chest. Easily in grabbing range. And though he knew bettershooting unarmed people outside prisons, especially when they hadnt come from inside the prisons, was generally frowned upon by the governor, the media, and the public Mitchs fear, and his conviction that this man was deadly, got the best of him, and his fired. FlashBANG. At the same momentas if they were the same phenomenathe prisons exterior siren shrieked once, signaling the need for assistance. Mitch had shot the man square in the chest. There was no doubt about it; hed pulled the trigger at just about pointblank range. But somehow, despite this, the man continued forward. Mitch fired again FlashBANG. this time with the muzzle pressed firmly into the mans shirt. But again the man continued forward. Mitch stumbled aside. The heel of his shoe caught on the jagged barbs of the gate and he went down onto his knee. Something clicked where his leg met the pavement, and bolt of pain shot up his thigh. The man had taken hold of the gate, and, before Mitchs watering eyes, tore the chainlink apart like it was tissue paper. He stepped through the tear and into perimeter 1, then continued down the port road toward the second gate. Mitch tried to stand, but the fallthat simple fucking fall goddamn ithad busted his knee, and he couldnt put any weight on it. He was getting old. Not only was he getting old, but he was also clearly losing his mind. A betrayal of mind and body. At 2am on a hot Monday in May. Who the fuck wouldve thought? The prisons front doorway down at perimeter 3swung open, and a group of COsfour that Mitch could count from all the way back herestrolled out. They were obviously expecting to find the man outside the first gate, all the way in perimeter zero, and when they saw him inside the prison grounds, charging with his fists balled toward the second gate, with Mitch on his ass and a whole in the chainlink, their body language changed, and tensed, and they started shouting at the man to stop, to put his hands up, to get on the ground. Instead, the man tore through the second gate with the ease of someone pulling aside a shower curtain, and continued forward without missing a beat. You dont have to hurt them! Mitch heard the mysterious voice say just before the gunfire started. Then he rolled onto his back and looked up at the sky, hoping maybe to see a few stars, but there were only mosquitoes swarming in the faint green glow of the traffic light all the way back on the road. # Benno ripped another steel door from its hinges and tossed it over his shoulder. An alarm blared. Lights flashed. There was shouting, both from behind him and up ahead. The overly lit concrete hallways all looked the same, but Benno wouldnt have known where he was going even if they didnt. He pressed deeper, ripping open foot-thick metal door after foot-thick metal door, shattering iron bars with the swipe of his hand, driven forward by an irrefutable confusion and an unequivocal certainty. His path was whatever he decided it was. It didnt matter that he didnt know where it led. He came around a turn in the hallway and found a rampart of riot shields. Through the transparent plastic apertures, the helmeted faces of terrified prison guards watched him. There were guns leveled. The barrels quivered. Holes clung to the top of his head. You dont have to hurt them, it said for the ten-thousandth time. Benno didnt have to hurt them. He didnt want to hurt them. But there was something about himsomething about the way he was, infallible and unmovablethat made it so difficult, maybe even impossible, not to hurt people. Not to kill. He stopped before the clot of guards. Im looking for Christopher Ryan, he said. The barrels trembled. Christopher Ryan, Benno repeated. Hes an inmate here. Take me to him now. Fire! Benno scooped Holes into his arms. Beanbag projectiles tore open on Bennos chest. The prongs of a taser bounced off his shoulder. Someone hurled a smoke grenade. So far from enough. But every number was the same distance from infinity. Benno waited until they depleted their rounds. Noxious smoke wafted back down the hallway, enveloping the guards. Their formation faltered. They coughed and sputtered, back-stepping blindly, their shields toppling. Christopher Ryan, Benno said again. Take me to him. The guards scrambled back. They were not going to answer him. But he could make them. He could make them do whatever he wanted Holes'' threads gripped his chest. Benno kicked through the concrete wall to his right, turning it into a pulverized mound of dust, and pressed deeper into the prison. # The main housing block was lit by a single strobing red light on the ceiling. The scuffed aluminum tables and chair, bolted to the floor, reflected the light with a smoldering menace. Eyes looked out from the cells, fingers gripping the bars. The place stunk of piss and body odor and fear. Benno stood in the middle of the block. He scanned the cells slowly, but the faces were obscured. Any one of them could have been the man Benno was looking for. Or none of them. Christopher Ryan. Bennos voice echoed through the hard, sealed place. Show yourself. Now. Seconds rolled by. dlorsullothdlorsulreferisdlorsulcausdlorsulselter Benno took hold of the aluminum table beside him and tore it from its bolts. He hurled it one-handed toward the wall where a TV was mounted. The table struck the wall with a deafening crash, cratering the concrete wall and landing in a heap. The TV fell atop it. The eyes gawped out from the bars. A few pairs of hands disappeared, retreating into the back of the cells. Benno went to the next table and ripped it free. He lifted it over his head, aiming this time at a section of wall closer to the cells. He was in Block D! someone shouted. Benno lowered the table, tossing it aside were it scrrrched across the floor. He peered at the cells, trying to match the voice with one of the dark faces. I was over there a few years ago. The voice was coming from a cell near the corner. Benno charged up to it. The man inside, short, maybe fifty, with a graying five-oclock shadow that grew down most of his throat, shrunk back from the bars. Wheres Block D? Benno growled. The man raised his palms. Its just the next one, he said. Benno turned and started back the way hed come. But hes not there anymore. The man called. Benno stopped, turned back around, stormed back to the cell, and bent the bars aside like stalks of wheat. The mans mouth fell slack, his terror rooting him to the spot. Benno seized him by the collar of his white shirt and dragged him out. Where is he, then? Benno lowered his face over the man. The man shook so violently Benno thought for a moment he might be having a seizure. He got released, he stammered. Like eight years ago. Benno clenched his jaw. Eight years ago. Christopher Ryan had been sentenced to fifteen years. The accident was fourteen years ago. But with good behavior, or an appeal Eight years ago, Benno had still been in his trailer. No one had bothered to tell him. He didnt talk a lot, the man said, his clammy hands gripping Bennos wrists. But I overheard him talking to his mom on the phone once. I thought it was weird because he called her Mother, you know? Like old-timey. Benno lifted the man by his shirt until his toes scudded on the floor. What did he say? I I The mans teeth chattered. Something about a debt? I dont know, man. Something about inheriting someone elses debt. Yeah, thats it. Some guy named Ed or something. It was years ago. I only remember because I thought it was a weird conversation to be having with your mom, you know? The mans hands flitted along the length of Bennos forearms. Please, man, he said, his voice choked with tears. Im getting out next year. Benno released him. He fell hard, yelping as his ankle bent wrong beneath his weight. Elsewhere in the prison, a new alarm started blaring. Dogs barked. Theyd be sending in a SWAT team or something. Bullets and bombs. Not enough. None of it even close. Something about inheriting a debt. Benno turned it over in his mind. There was a truth hiding in the whorl of half-truths, but it refused to reveal itself. Still none of that mattered. What mattered was that Christopher Ryan wasnt here. He wasnt here, because he was there. He was there. [Part V - Into the Woods] Chapter 33 - Love at First Sight Bennos beard once again reeked of the putrid stew from Augusts Bathhouse, somehow now returning even worse than before. He showered, using bottle after bottle of shampoo, but the stench only worsened until, left with no choice, he readied a pair of scissors and squared up in front of the mirror to do away with the cursed thing for good. Are you going to apologize to Onus? Holes asked, perched on the edge of the sink. Benno positioned the scissors as close to his chin as he could. For what? For hurting his neck. No. Benno hesitated to make the cut. Why? You were right. Benno lowered the scissors a half inch; maybe he could salvage some of it. About Onus. Hes evil. Him and his sister. The whole family. I didnt say hes evil. Holes shrugged its petals. I said hes angry. Benno lifted the scissors back up closer to his chin. The whole thing had to go. You didnt have to hurt him, Holes said. Will you stop with that? You didnt have to hurt the people in the Bathhouse either. They didnt do anything, and even if they had The scissors drifted lower. What do you know? Benno scowled. You didnt even know there was anything other than that stupid movie until, what? Two days ago? I know hurting people is wrong, especially when they cant hurt you back. Holes folded its petals in whatever constituted its lap. Which for you, I think, is everyone. Benno adjusted the scissors. It doesnt work that way, he said. Then how does it work? Benno huffed. Life is Sometimes things Nothing really Its complicated. Holes watched him. You dont have to be like Jack. Fuck it. Benno dropped the scissors, which disappeared at his feet, glared at the beard in the mirror, huffed again, and climbed back into the shower. # Gemma led him to room 000003. Behind the door, Benno could hear voices. He stood for a long timeminuteslistening, trying to make out the words. But they were muffled. They might as well have been gibberish, just like the soundless words unfolding forever in his head dlorsuleathdlorsulthulfisdlorsuleckalon and finally, deciding if he subjected himself to two parallel streams of nonsense for much longer he would go insane, he knocked onceat which point the voices ceasedand then entered the room. Onus sat on the sofa. His neck was bruised dark black from jaw to clavicle, and his sclera were speckled with bright blots of red. His fingers traced the zipper on the pocket at his chest for a moment before lowering to his lap. By the window, looking out at the beach and the sun-speckled sea, Christopher Ryan stood. He turned slowly toward Benno as the door swung shut. Benno kept his eyes on Onus. You know your Tefached cant protect you from me. Onus nodded. Benno nodded in return. Im sorry about your neck. Its alright, Onus croaked. The state of his voice alarmed Benno, and a pang of guilt passed through him, though it quickly dissolved in the bottomless pool of distrust and frustration that had guided him since the white wooden door opened in the basement of the Everson Family Motor Company. Benno met Christopher Ryans gaze. The panes of his glasses were clear, and his small, dark eyes betrayed nothing but the fact of his own sight. I need answers, Benno said. From both of you. Now. Onus looked back at Christopher Ryan, wincing as he turned his neck. Christopher Ryan removed his glasses, and proceeded to clean them with the front of his Polo shirt. This is a bit awkward, he said with a faint smile. His smug voicethe first time Benno had heard it since the trialcoupled with the grin on his despicable lips, filled Benno with dense rage. Ill tell you what I can, he continued. I dont know if itll be satisfying to you, and I dont know if youll like hearing a lot of it. But He replaced his glasses on his face. Since were here. He shrugged. Benno placed his hand on Holes, hoping the cool plastic of its petals would give him the strength not to climb over the sofa and rip Christopher Ryans head from his neck. Where would you like me to start? Christopher Ryan asked. Start from the beginning, Benno said. Christopher Ryan looked at Onus, who nodded. Alright then, he said. I was born in # a town called Winsted, in a Schema D Realm like yours, in April, nineteen I thought you were born in Fairfield, Benno interrupted. Connecticut. In my Realm. Christopher Ryan shook his head. Ill get to all that. But my birthplace wasnt too dissimilar from Fairfield. I actually went to Fairfield once. Its its fine. Either way. I grew up in Winsted. Went off to college to study finance. Graduated, moved to a city, got a job at a wealth management firm. Blah blah blah. I was there for about ten years before I met Annabel. She was the daughter of one of the firms long-time clients. He was richnot insane rich, but enviably rich. Tens of millions. He died suddenly, youngish. I think in his early sixties. Anyway, he had a lot of money caught up in things, various high-yield investment, but very little cash. And no will. So his daughter came in. I saw her on the books, and my boss warned me it might be an awkward conversation. Wed dealt with frustrated heirs before. They were tough people. Their whole lives theyd been under an impression that one day they would become rich overnight. But it didnt always happen that way. Rich peopleespecially rich menlike to leave final fuck yous, especially to their ungrateful kids. So once in a while you get an estate that all divided up in surprising ways, or where the bulk is left to someone random, like a housekeeper or some old girlfriend. And that leaves the kids frustrated. Pissed, is maybe a more accurate term. So because this particular rich guy hadnt even left a will, and we were still holding the bulk of his assets, we were anticipating that his daughter would come in frustrated. Pissed. But Annabel She wasnt like that. Actually, she wasnt like anyone Id ever met. First of all, she didnt even want the money. She just wanted to know if there was anything she needed to do for us. So that we were free to move it around. She was the only daughterthe money was, in the absence of any will, all, technically, hers if shed taken it to courtbut she didnt want a dime. We gave her some papers to sign, just standard permissions, and told her that if she needed cash or anything at any point, to just give us a heads up, so we could get it loose. But instead, she asked to open a new account. A savings account. With her own money. Now we dont typically do static savings. I mean, well set aside portions of larger capital assets into savings accounts. But in this case, seeing as she did, again technically, have million of dollars invested with us via her late father, we figured wed make an exception. My boss let me take the lead on opening the account. I brought Annabel to my officeit was small, with a view of another buildingand sat her down. At that point, everything kind of made sense to me: She didnt want any of her fathers cash because she had her own money. She was youngtwenty-six at the time, I came to knowbut in that day and age, young people with a good head on their shoulder were able to make money hand over fist. So I got all the paperwork ready for her. I was excited, because since my boss put me in charge of opening the account, it meant he probably expected me to oversee it, and it would be my first solo multi-million dollar management. But when I asked Annabel how much she wanted to put into the savings, and from what bank, she said shed like to put in a hundred and twenty five. In cash. Which she then proceeded to pull out from her pocket. I remember it exactly. A fifty, three twenties, and the rest in ones. For a minute I thought she was joking. She had a way about her, an expression on her face, a sort of permanent, gentle smile. I thought maybe it was part of her humor. But she wasnt humorousnot like that. She was just She was simple. Not in a derogatory way. She was smarter than me about a lot of things. But simple as in peaceful. I dont know. Even after all these years, shes a mystery. In that moment that she held up that crumpled wad of billsI think thats the first time I fell in love with her. I had to explain to her of course that the amount was too small for our firm to manage, but if she wanted, I would take her to the Bank of America across the street and help her open a savings account, which she graciously accepted. After that I offered to take her to lunch. So thus ensued our first sort of date. It turned out she was mostly estranged from her father. Her mother had raised her alone, more-or-less, and it had been over a decade since shed seen her father before his death. She still lived with her mother, up in the country. A very modest life. They had chickens, she told me, and then proceeded to name each one. I still remember: Deborah, Danielle, Delilah, Dena, Danika, Dianne, and Doris. She loved those chickens. She loved to paint; I would end up seeing some of her work. She was so gifted. And she loved her life. Her simple life. She only wanted to set up the savings account, she said, because her fathers death had caused her to think about her mothers advancing age, and she figured they might need something, some cash, somewhere down the line for medical bills and care. I suggested she use the money her father had left behind, which I was happy to help her get control of. But she didnt like the idea. It wasnt hers, she said. It had nothing to do with her. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. After lunch I walked her to the bus. I asked if I could see her again. She said of course, that she would be back down to the city later in the year to check on her savings account. I could have told her the whole thing could be overseen online, but I dont even think she had a phone, and besides, I wanted her to come back. I enjoyed being near her. I wanted to be near her more. When she was gone, I couldnt stop thinking about her. Her face, her soft voice, her simple way. It was like she embodied a way of living, a way of seeing the world, that had been kept from me. A secret I needed to know. After a few weeks I knew I needed to see her again. We had her address on file from the permissions shed signed, and I took a Friday off, rented a car, and drove north. It was a beautiful part of the country. It reminded me of Winsted, where Id grown up. Only back then Id resented Winstedthe ruralityfor its sluggishness, its relentless silence, its dearth of economic activity. But as I pulled up the long dirt driveway of the home Annabel lived in with her mother, a cottage in a meadow nestled against a low forest, I thought that I had been wrong, and that this was the way. I could live here, with her and her mother, and their chickens, and I could be happy. She was surprised to see me. Her first question was if something had happened to her savings account. When I told her that it was, as far as I knew, fine, she was puzzled. Why was I here? What did I need? I became nervous; the whole drive Id been so sure. Id been so excited to see her againher simple beautythat I hadnt even considered that I might be making a mistake. As I stood on her porch, with the warm breeze clanking the chimes on the eave, I became filled with doubt. But love does not play games. I knewI was certainand I needed her to know too. The way I felt about her was too powerful to be unrequited. She was all I thought about. I wanted to see her paintings. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to meet her mother. I loved her. My love spilled from me, flooding the world. I told her all this, there on the front porch, her hair drifting in the breeze. When I was done, she looked past me, back toward the road, for a long time. Coming to an understanding, an understanding of her own feelings. I had helped her discover what was wrong, the abyss that had opened in her since we met only weeks before. It was me. She loved me too. Shed known it all along, but hadnt realized it. I wondered if I should have brought flowers. But then she looked at me, and she was not overcome with love. She was not crying tears of joy like I was. She looked afraid, and angry. She asked me to leave, and she closed the door, and I heard it lock. The wind stopped, I remember, as if the air itself recoiled in shock and revulsion, as I did. I had failed. I had failed to adequately express to her my feelings. If I hadnt she would have understood. She would have realized what I already knew, which was that she loved me, too. She would have brought me into her house, and introduced me to her mother. We would have had a meal, perhaps a bottle of wine. That night we would have made love in her small bed, or in the shower, or under the stars. In the morning I would have watched her paint. I would learn to feed the chicken. We would have children. When her mother got too old, I would pay for her care. We too would grow old. Mine would be the last face she saw before death. I simply needed to help her see all this. But I didnt know how. I needed time to think. I got back in the car and drove a ways down the road. There was an abandoned barn, and I parked behind it. The barns interior was dusty, and smelled like animals. From a gap in the barns slats I could see Annabels house. I watched it, hoping that its sightor a glimpse of her going to feed the chickenswould help inspire me, would help me find the words, or the gesture, that would unlock for her the truth of our love. And from that barn I discovered the reason for her doubt: There was an interferer. A man. He drove up in his pickup truck less than an hour after I left. He was tall. I watched him climb the porch and knock on the door. I saw Annabel open it and hug him. I watched them kiss. She hurried him inside. He never left, even as it got dark. This man He had her fooled. He had her believing something untrue. He had my sweet, simple Annabel tricked into thinking that he was her love. Him and her mother and the chickens and the quaint little house. They were illusions. They were standing between us, and I knew what I had to do. When I was a little boy, I saw a fire. A few houses down from ours, in Winsted. In the middle of the night. I woke up to the sound of sirens and went outside with my mom and dad. The house was ablaze. A pillar of flames. The firefighters couldnt do anything but stand around and keep the neighbors back. Within an hour the whole house was a pile of ash. The walls, the roof, everything inside it. Everyone inside it. Gone, just like that. I thought about it all the time. I thought about how if something needed to disappear, fire was the perfect solution. It ate the thing that made things things. It ate their essences. So it was perfect. Fire would be perfect here. Id seen in movies how people suck gas out of their cars with a hose. It works in real life too, and I didnt even swallow that much of it. I filled up some old buckets I found in the barn and waited until it was late, late at night. I poured it around the base of the house, where the flowerbeds were. I covered the porch. I even poured a trail to the chicken coop. It was so much gasoline I could see it shimmering in the moonlight. I was nervous that I had some on my clothes, and that I would catch on fire too. So I undressed. I lit a match and tossed it, but it went out before it landed. The second match I tossed more gently, and the flames danced. My plan was simplesimple like Annabel. When the house was burning I would run in and save her. I would pull her out, but I would leave the man and the mother and the chickens. I would let the fire eat their souls. And the tricks that blinded Annabel from the truth would be removed, and she would see me, and see our love, and we would be together. Plus she would owe me. It was all worth it. But I underestimated the speed with which the fire would grow. Within minutes, the whole house was surrounded by a wall of flame higher than the roof. The heat was unbearable, and I had to retreat. This was one of the darkest moments of my life. I had killed her. I had killed my true love. Now she would never know. I had doomed myself to being without her in an even more terrible way than I had been up until then. There werent any neighbors nearby, and no one to call the fire department. I watched for a long time from the barn as the house shrunk and the flames grew. I decided I would drive away, back to the city, and start to work out for myself that maybe this was all for the best, that in some ways, if no one else could have her, that she was mine. That I had been the most important thing in her life. I couldve made that work But then she emerged from the flame. Her skin was gone. In the moonlight I could see the glint of her bone. She had no hair, no face, no shapely form. Just charred flesh and teeth and ribs. She was dragging something, out onto the field. A body. Also charred. She left it in the grass, and then ranran like someone intactback into the flame. A minute later she reappeared, with another charred body. She laid it next to the first, and then she fell to her knees. I watched her. I watched her wail, a shadow before the blaze. And as I watched, before my eyes, she started to change. I didnt understand what was happening at first. I thought the light was changing, or I was imagining things. But I wasnt. Her flesh was growing back. The clumps of ash were falling from her, and in their place her muscles, her sinews, were reconfiguring themselves around her bones. Her skinher simple, unblemished skincrept back across her new flesh, and soonbesides for her hairshe was as whole and as new as the day shed come into my firm. In the firelight, her naked skin danced and glimmered. I understood then that she was more than just my true love. She was an angel. She was a goddess. I went to her. Remember, I had undressed to avoid smelling like gas, and our mutual nakedness, I thought, there by the fire that had cleansed her illusion, that had brought her to me, would lubricate her into my arms. I stood beside her, and softly I touched her bare scalp. I found her baldness, if Im being honest, unappealing. But the hair would grow back. And if it didnt I would buy her a wig. I would buy her anything she wanted, with my money and her fathers. But the illusion had not been broken. When I touched her she screamed, and looked at me like someone might something putrid, like a charred corpse. And yet I was not the charred corpse. I was the living man, unscathed. I still had my essence. Yet somehow I was putrid to her. She screamed at me, first from fear, then with rage. She stood, her arms outspread, as if to protect the bodies of her mother and the despicable man from me. To shield them. I was startled more than anything, and disappointed, and in my nakedness I was vulnerable. I fled from her. She simply wasnt ready. She needed time. I would give her time. Weeks went by. I tried to return to the firm and carry on with my duties, but I was distracted. I was paranoid. I kept expecting the police to show upto the firm or to my apartmentand haul me away. It wouldnt matter that what Id donein the name of true lovewas protected by rights that transcended the laws of men. They wouldnt understand. I tried to reason that if I went to prison, it was a small price to pay for having freed a simple angel like Annabel from her own imprisonment. An imprisonment of illusion. I braced myself for this acceptance. But the police never arrived. Eventually, enough time had passed that I was no longer expecting to see the police, but rather to see Annabel herself show up at the firm. To rush to me and embrace me, and shower me with tearful kisses. To be indebted to me for saving her. I figured, one afternoon as I sat in my office gazing out at the face of the building across the street, that right at that moment, Annabel was preparing to depart for the city, to come to me. I decided to save her the trip. I left work early, rented another car, and drove back north. I was giddy. I was downright excited. But when I arrived, I found the charred ruins of her home encircled with yellow tape, and abandoned. Of course she couldnt stay there, I realized, in its condition. I drove to the nearest town and asked at the grocery store if anyone had seen her. The clerk told me shed been staying in a motel since the fire. What a tragedy, hed said, shaking his head, not understanding. I bought a bouquet of blue flowers from the grocery store and drove to the motelonly again to find disappointment. The motel manager told me Annabel had been staying there, but that she was gone. Not left, he said. Disappeared. Her things were still in her room, but she hadnt been there in at least a week. Her car, too, was still parked outside. But no sign of Annabel. There was a bill, he said, if I wanted to take care of it. I told him I would pay the bill if I could see the room. There wasnt much there. Shed bought new clothesa pair of jeans, a sweater, some undergarmentssince her old clothes, I figured, were lost in the fire. A half-drunk bottle of wine on the dresser, and a wineglass beside it with the smudge of her lips. A sketch pad and a pencil, though neither had been used. There wasnt even a toothbrush. I did pay the bill; it was only a couple hundred dollars. I also took the things with me back to the city. When she showed up for me, I would return them, or buy her new, nicer things. I figured it would only be a matter of days. But the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, and soon a year had passed. I found it harder and harder to concentrate at work. I spent all day watching the front of the office, expecting her to walk in. My boss, apparently, noticed the decline in my work, and eventually let me go. I spent my days in my apartment. I kept Annabels clothesher jeans and sweater and underwearwith me at all times. It was, for then, the closest I could be to her. Meanwhile, my own finances were dwindling. My rent was high, and I was forced to move out. It was absurd, of course, since if Annabel had come to me, we could both be living off her fathers relative fortune and never have to worry again. But she hadnt come to me yet. I moved back into my childhood home in Winsted. And there I remained for three more years, almost four. Both my parents died in that period. They left me nothing but the house, with its deteriorating roof. I shouldve moved on. My love for Annabel shouldve lessened. I shouldve put her clothes away in a closet, or simply thrown them out. But I didnt. I couldnt. I wouldnt. She had become all of me. I knew nothing but my longing for her. I couldnt hold a job. I gained weight. I slept each night with her clothes beneath my head. I thought about killing myself. But that wouldve been unfair to me. This was her fault after all. She was taking too long to accept the truth of our love, and she was wasting both of our lives away. At least thats what I thought at the time. And thats where it couldve ended, until one night, while I slept, I had a dream [Part V - Into the Woods] Chapter 34 - Climbing the Daddy Tree Christopher Ryan had not moved since hed started speaking. Through the window behind him, the sun-dappled sea glimmered. Onus looked at Benno with thin, remorseful eyes. He didnt know, Benno thought. He didnt know any of this. Edda explained everything to me, Christopher Ryan went on. She told me that Annabels ability to heal was why she was here. She told me about the Gardens, and that when Annabel visited them she wished to be with me. These words to my ears corrected so many dark days and nights of resentment and solitude. She had finally come to be freed from her illusions. She finally saw me as her true love. And now we were here together, thanks to Edda. Edda took me to her. I will admit that for the first few days of my being here, Annabel and I hardly left our room. I am not trying to brag, just explaining it as it happened. I started to think that it would just be like that forever, that no one would ever interrupt us. But of course there was work to do. Edda had orchestrated all of thisa harbinger of lovebut not for free. And I was happy to help her in any pursuit. I owed her everything after all. So when she sent me on my first errand, I approached it vigilantly and with the same tenacity I would approach matters of my love for Annabel. That first errand was straight forward: There was someone who was harassing Edda, and Edda needed them to stop. I went in and persuaded them. Edda knew I would be good for this work. One can do anything when one has as much motivation as I did, which was the knowledge that Annabel was waiting for me when I returned. I did well with that first one. After that, about once a week, Edda would come to my and Annabels room and inform me of something else that needed my attention. I would go forth and see to it, and then return to the Inn and to our room, and Annabel and I would make love for days and days at a time. I never much saw anything outside our room. The other members of Eddas crew were standoffish. I think it was because they were jealous of the extent to which Edda trusted me with the most delicate matters. That and the true love Annabel and I enjoyed, which most people never get to know. Years went by like this. Then one day Edda came to fetch me. She was different that day. More severe than usual. I see that now in retrospect. At the time I didnt much notice. I was drunk with love, drunk with Annabel. I got dressed and met Edda in her study. She explained to me that there was a man. Shed been watching him for years, though she didnt say why. She needed to send him a message. Something he would be sure to get, that would get his attention. An interruption to the course of his life, she said. Normally she allowed me to work out the details, but in this case she had everything planned out. There was even a backstorya version of myself invented for this errand. I didnt fully understand. But Edda had been good to me. Beyond that. Edda had saved my life. I did what she said. I filled up my wallet with the fabricated documentation. I kissed Annabel goodbye, and told her I would be right back. Edda brought me to the Realmthere was an issue with the Gemstoke that day, she said, something to do with system maintenance. I did everything exactly as she instructed. I rented the car. I drove into the Catskills. I found the road shed told me to find, and parked on the shoulder beside the mile marker she described. And I waited until I saw the headlights approaching the intersection. Edda had told me exactly when theyd be there, and they were right on time. I pulled onto the road and I hit the gas. It all went exactly as shed said it would. Shed told me to meet her after, in a clearing nearby. She said shed have the Shenandoah there waiting to take me back to the Inn. I ran to the clearing as fast as I could; the collision had hurt my leg a bit, but nothing serious. And Edda was there, just where shed said shed be, the Shenandoah idling. I remember it was hailing. I started to board, but she stopped me. She told me the errand wasnt finished. She hadnt told me there was more. I asked her what I needed to do next. Pay your dues, she said. "And then she left. Just like that. I didnt understand. I ran along a road. I found a barnserendipitous, I knowand sought shelter from the hail. I just wanted to be back with Annabel. The police found me soon. I kept expecting Edda to come back for me. But she didnt. They charged me with murder. I went to prison. I spend my time thinking about Annabel. I knew she was waiting for me back at the Inn. It was only fifteen years. I kept my head down. My first parole hearing was denied, but it was promising. My second was granted. I only had a month left. I couldnt sleep in anticipation of my release. I wrote Annabel a poem. I paced and paced. That last week, with my release imminent, felt longer than the previous six years. But I was finally returning to her. Finally. I missed her so. But then I got a phone call. Id only met Mother once, briefly, when I accompanied Edda on an errand to the Familys mansion. Mother informed me over the phone that an arrangement had been made. Edda owed some debts, and couldnt repay them, and so had come to an agreement with Mother that I would be serving out a sentence on those debts. I would leave this prison directly into Mothers custody. Again I didnt understand. I would have contacted Edda, but had no way to. There was nothing I could do. And thats about it. At least the first prison had other people in it, not that I spoke much to anyone. But the second prisonMothers prisonit was empty, and dark. Just me and my thoughts, all of which concerned Annabel. I knew she was waiting for methat she would wait for me foreverbut I didnt know if I would ever make it back to her. No one ever came to visit me. Not until you two showed up. Benno had sat down on the high-backed leather-upholstered chair. He held a hand over his mouth, his eyes settled on the carpet where it met the sofa, but seeing nothing. He felt like he should be having a million thoughts, but there were only the words dlrosulguthdlorsulemoliundlorsuldecalo unfurling, endless, never repeating. Onus watched him, his hand similarly gating his mouth, his orange eyes wet. The bruise on his throat had already started to lighten and yellow. I told you it might be awkward, Christopher Ryan said, offering another smug grin. Benno sat up and cleared his throat, as if doing so would help him focus. I dont he trailed off, looking past Christopher Ryan at the ocean. Why he tried, then rubbed his face. Why was she watching me before the the accident? Christopher Ryan shrugged. Something to do with that cat. Recipient? Benno glanced over his shoulder, toward the hallway. The first time I saw Recipient was the day before I ended up here. He traced the pyramid with his index finger, down the bridge of his nose. It wasnt Recipient, Christopher Ryan said. It was the other one. Electorate. The big one. And it wasnt you the cat was following. Then who? Christopher Ryan shrugged again. Benno got up and headed down the hallway. # The couch-sized catElectoratelooked up at Benno from her large, sleepy eyes. Recipient was nowhere to be seen. The bed, with its black sheets, however, had been made. Onus, Benno assumed. Of course hed been using Eddas bed. Electorate watched Benno as he approached, betraying nothing but an unflinching feline boredom. Benno knelt beside the cat and reached out cautiously. She allowed him to place his hand on her large, warm head, though she seemed unimpressed. Who were you following? Benno whispered. Electorate blinked. Like Recipient, she wore a collar, and dangling from the collar was a flat glass triangle. In it, Benno saw himself, reflected Except The back of his head. He was looking at the back of his head. Close, nestled into the hair, as if someone were clinging to his back He stood and spun around. The room was empty. The knelt back down and leaned forward. In the triangle, through the tangle of his hair, he could see Electorates collar, and in it, smaller, the same tangle of hair, and another collar, and onward, forever. He turned around again, then back. Close, nestled into his hair As if someone was clinging to his back Bennos heart echoed in the bottomless cavern of his abdomen. Recipient had the same collar, the same flat glass triangle. Benno had seen himself reflected in it, numerous times. But hed also seen something else reflected in it When he was in Ddoaks shed, dreaming another life, hed seen dark, sooty walls. A candle. Hed seen the shed. Hed seen the shed because Recipient hadnt really been in Bennos dream. Recipient had been in the shed, looking at its walls and the flickering candle. Benno touched the glass triangle softly. His eyes filled with hot tears. How He remembered something August had said: Only Sul has jurisdiction over death. Only Sul. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Electorate blinked. She wasnt really looking at Benno. She was looking into someone else, through someone elses eyes. Someone else who was looking at Benno, as if theyd climbed onto his back and nestled their face into his hair dlorsulrimuddlorsulavrosdlorsulanagruh The cat lowered her head onto her pillow. dlorsullandlorsultencedlorsulmesk Benno stood slowly and looked up at the empty room. Is it you? dlorsulagandlorsulpathdlorsularlegor Are you alive? And though nothing happened, no sound, so movement, not even the impression of a reply, Benno felt, deep in the well of his heart, that hed received an answer. He wiped his eyes. He left Eddas bedroom and walked back down the hall, and by the time he arrived in the sitting room something had formed into place, and so much else had shattered. Onus looked up from his palm when Benno entered. Christopher Ryan turned from the window and fixed Benno with another smug grin. Benno cordoned his new cascade of thoughts and fears aside. Is Annabel still here? he asked. Here in the Inn? Christopher Ryans grin widened. Yes, he said. Of course she is. Shes waited for me all this time. Its taken every ounce of my will not to run to her, but of course it was important that we all speak first. The men. And after fourteen years, whats another few minutes? Benno nodded. Id love to meet her. # He led Benno to a door Benno had seen before. Hed passed it the day he arrived here, on his way to meet the Haruspex. He was with someone, but he couldnt remember who. Maybe hed been alone. It felt like a million years ago. BAD ROOM Benno stood behind Christopher Ryan, who tsked and shook his head. Vandals, he said. They were always jealous of us. Of our love. No matter. He opened the door and entered, flicking on the lights as he did. Benno proceeded slowly. There was a flat screen TV on the right wall, with a single faux-leather reclining chair facing it, and a low coffee table with absolutely nothing on it. There was an electric guitar on a stand, which appeared never to have been played. There was a rack of color coated dumbbells which, like the guitar, appeared untouched. Gray blinds were drawn over the window. There was a smell that reminded Benno of bandaids and medicine. On the left side of the room, the twin bed was made up with dark green bedding. Standing behind Christopher Ryan, Benno could just see a length of brown hair and the curve of an arm; there was somebody sitting on the bed. My darling. Christopher Ryan hurried to the bed. Benno stood at the door. Christopher Ryans body continued to block his view of the person save for the jeans and gray sweater and shoulder-length hair. They did not move. They did not speak. Im so sorry. Christopher Ryan climbed onto the bed and crawled toward the person until he was straddling them, their socked feet sticking out between his legs. I never would have left you for so long if I couldve helped it. But there were things beyond my control. I will never let it happen again. And I am here now. He leaned down and kissed the persons face. Benno cleared his throat. Excuse us, Christopher Ryan said, turning, his face flushed and his smug grin wider than ever. We got carried away in the passion of our reunion. He climbed off the unmoving person and sat crosslegged on the edge of the bed. Benno, meet Annabel. Annabel, this is Benno. Benno took a step toward the bed. He shouldve felt disgusted, or enraged. He had enough reason for bothfor endless waves of bothand no one could blame him. But he felt neither. And in feeling neither, he felt a dull sorrow. Her skin looked baggy. It reminded Bennoin a regrettable and macabre instantof the frogs he used to dissect with his 9th grade biology students. Something about the frogs, after having their organs removed, made their skin appear oversized. Husks, Benno used to think of them as. It was the same with Annabel. In fact, her skin appeared more or less undefiled, other than that one of her eyelids was sealed shut, and her lips were split in a series of deep trenches, and her nostrils were dramatically different sizes. But the way the skin draped on the body, across the bodys bones, like a sheet thrown over an old piece of furniturenot to mention her unsparing stillnesswas proof that something devastating had occurred, though what, exactly, was unclear. Edda had claimed shed died trying to enter the Gardens, though this, to Benno, as he stood looking at the bed, seemed uncertain. Regardless, what Benno knew about Annabels regenerative qualities presented a feasible explanation for the unfortunate state she was in now, whatever had caused it: Her body, it seemed, continued to regenerate itself even after a trauma so ruinous that the life within it had fled. But the regeneration was without the same order and elegance it would have been with a lifea soulto guide it. And what remained was something pitiful. Something for which Benno felt profoundly sad, even if it could not receive that sadness from him. Arent you going to say hello? Christopher Ryan asked, his brow furrowed with annoyance. What had Edda been thinking, to bring this man into the folds of her operation? Had she simply seen an opportunity to exploit a sick individual with the resources she had on hand? Or had she truly loved Annabelas she claimedand her manipulation of Christopher Ryanhis errands, and his rewardswas all a means to a punitive fate? Perhaps it was somewhere in the middle. Perhaps it was something else entirely. All Benno knew for sure was that this was wrong. It was so fucking wrong. Whats the matter with you? Christopher Ryan asked, his hands outspread. Why are you being so rude? And how much, after all was said and done, was Christopher Ryan really to blame? More than Benno, but less than Edda. At least as far as the death of Bennos family. There were additional atrocities, for which Christopher Ryan and only Christopher Ryan was responsible. At the very least he should be locked away for the rest of his life. At the very least. But Benno Haim was not the justice system. I can be, though Make him look like me, Jason Rogers wheezed in Bennos ear. Benno looked down at Holes, clinging to the front of his shirt. Anything to add? Holes shrugged. You dont have to kill him. # Only afterward did Benno realize he could have simply used handcuffs. Instead, hed MacGyvered a whole system of pulleys, employing chains and twine, to allow Christopher Ryan enough movement that he could reach the far cornerwhere he would urinate and defecateand the corner near the doorwhere Gemma was instructed to leave water and enough food for him to survive indefinitelybut could not use his arms or reach the door. The whole thing took Benno almost two hours to rig up, and he was proud of the work, despite how macabre the exercise of troubleshooting such a contraption might be. Christopher Ryan, to his benefit, said very little while Benno worked. He sat against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, staring at the Haruspex. The Haruspex stared back, seeing nothing. Benno tested the chains anchored to the wall. He of course could have pulled them free, but from a moderate exertion of force they held tight. Okay, he said. Christopher Ryan crawled, silent, into position. His complacency did not stir in Benno the solicitude it might have; rather, it confirmed to Benno just how brokenand guiltythis man in fact was, and just how necessary it was to lock him away. Make sure you can reach your food, Benno said when he was done, indicating the corner near the door. Christopher Ryan, his hands fastened behind his back, shuffled on his knees to the corner. And your bathroom, Benno said. Christopher Ryan shuffled to the other corner. Benno nodded and turned to the Haruspex. How long will this last you? he asked. The Haruspexs foggy eyes seemed to reject Gemmas light. Long enough, she said. Benno snatched up Gemma and took a final scan of the sooty, foul smelling room. Im going to dig another grave, he said, and then swung open the heavy door and exited into the hallway. And just before the door swung shut behind him, stifling the sound, Christopher Ryan had begun to plead and cry. # Onus stood up when Benno reentered Eddas apartment. The bruise on his neck was, by now, hardly visible, but he still winced faintly. Similarly, the scars that had covered every inch of his skin when Benno rescued him from the Bathhouse were no longer discernible. Im sorry, he said. Edda had him listed in her personnel log as a high priority crew member with confidential knowledge about you, specifically. I assumed he would know her thinkingor at least have some information about how she was attempting to locate the Gray Wastes. I thought hed be able to help us. I truly didnt know. Benno sat and waited until Onus had sat down too. He did help us, he said. How? Benno took a second to gather his thoughts, loath to say anything he didnt know for sure. I had assumed that Edda only took an interest in me because of my condition, he said. I mean, thats what she led me to believe: she was looking for someone who could get into the Gardens. She found Annabel, but Annabel couldnt do it, so she kept looking, and she found me. Even knowing what I know now, about Chavanuck and Sul and your father, that would still hold true. But it wasnt like that. Christopher Ryan proves it. Onus nodded slowly. Before the accident, Benno went on. I was normal. I could get hurt. I could get sick. I aged normally. There was nothing about me that wouldve been of any interest to Edda. It was the accident itself that changed me. The accident that she orchestrated. Onus eyes faltered, briefly, to the floor. Which means there was already something about meor about someone close to methat was important. At first I didnt know what or who this could be Onus waited. Edda wasnt watching me, Benno said. She was watching Sul. He ran his finger along the edge of the pyramid. She might not have been able to find the Gardens, but somehow, with that cat in her bedroom, she was able to watch Sul. She was able to watch Sul dream. That cat, Electorate, is still watching Sul dream. And Sul is watching him dream. Who? dlorsulslencedlorsulalburndlorsulfeldlorsullingun Who? Onus repeated, his eyes darting a complicated shape around the apartment. Benno stroked Holes petals as the flower dozed on his shoulder. Tell me about the rest of Suls Wardens, he said. I think its time I killed them all. # They spoke until the sun traded places with the moon, which cast a silver path across the water. Then, eventually, Benno stood and stretched his arms over his head. I need to sleep, he said. Not long. A few hours. Onus stretched also, his long arms spanning the entire width of the sofa. Good idea. Come fetch me when its time to go. He shuffled toward the hallway. You dont have to, Benno said. Onus stopped and turned. Dont have to what? You dont have to come with me. A long moment unfurled. Of course I do. Onus turned and disappeared down the hallway, and a few seconds later the sound of a door clicked shut. Benno returned to his room. He placed Holes on the righthand pillow, undressed, and flopped down perpendicular on the bed atop the sheets. The Trickster. The Chieftain. The Eyes of Horus. The Scattered King. Benno rolled onto his side. The Trickster. The Chieftain. The Eyes of Horus. The Scattered King. And finally Sul. He sat up. Back in Eddas apartment hed been so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. But now, with the option of sleep, he found himself alert. More than that. Vigilant. Engaged. He was ready to go. But hed promised Onus a few hours of sleep. And there was no rushnot after fourteen years. He got up and put his pants back on, then crept from the room, careful to avoid waking Holes, and into the room next door266362. He made his way through the vines to the drawer and pulled out his cell phone, which surprisinglyperhaps influenced by Gemma or some quality of the Hillstul Innturned on right away. He sat on the oily sheets of the twin bed, nestled amongst the lush plant, and scrolled through his photos. He liked the one of the three of them at home on Christmashis wifes holiday, since Benno had noneall wearing matching checkered pajamas, his sons little arms wrapped around Bennos neck, his legs locked around his abdomen, his face half-buried in Bennos hair. Climbing the Daddy tree, he called it. It used to be his favorite thing. I didnt know, Benno said softly, tracing his sons face, tears disappearing into the forest of his beard. I didnt know [Part V - Into the Woods] Chapter 35 - Cake Its nice, said Mara, leaning over Zev to get a look at the house through the drivers side window. Zev shut off the Prius. Looks smaller than the pictures. Its a cottage in the woods. What did you expect? Zev shrugged. No its nice. It is nice The driveway needs to be repaired. I think we almost took the shocks off pulling in. Were not buying the place, were just spending the weekend. Mara raveled her long scarf snuggly around her neck. Look they have a woodpile. Think you can get a fire going? Of course. Zev peered at the house. There are bricks missing from the chimney. Youre the one who didnt want to spend more than two-hundred a night. Mara zipped her coat up over her scarf. Lets get inside. And the paint is literally peeling off the door. I mean, theyre running a business, youd think theyd at least put in the minimum effort to get the place looking like more than a rundown shack. Mara sighed and slumped back in her seat. Are we gonna sit out here and complain, or are you gonna take me inside this rundown shack and fuck me? Zev threw the door open. Whos complaining? He climbed out into the bitter cold, and as he carried their suitcases up the front porch, he could swear he heard the faint clatter of bells from the woodsthough of course it was only his imagination. # He finally managed to get a fire lit after over half an hour, during which time Mara stood by, her coat still zipped over her scarf, her hands buried in her pockets. There, Zev sat back, wiping sweat from his forehead with sooty hands as weak flame lapped around the thick log on the grate. Itll warm up soon. He surveyed the small, low-ceilinged sitting room, the cramped, dusty antique furniture, the eerie oil-paintings on the wood-paneled wallsportraits of long dead women and men staring, stern to the point of foreboding. I cant believe they left the heat off. Not to mention left that window open in the kitchen. I hear the radiators. Mara breathed on her hands. And the fire will help. Its just ridiculous. Zev sat in one of the old high-backed chairs, which whined beneath him. It must be twenty degrees in here. He shook his head. Should we just say screw it and drive home? After all that trouble you just went through? Mara indicated the fire, which was growing by the second. Besides, this is why we brought whiskey. She disappeared through the narrow doorway in the direction of the kitchen, then reappeared with a bottle. I guess thatll help, Zev said. Mara sat on Zevs lap and picked at the plastic seal on the bottles neck until it came free. She twisted it open and took a swig. Thats the stuff. She grimaced. Zev took a big gulp, then pointed to a painting of a man with a horsey face and dark, bleary eyes. You think he used to live here? Maybe he still does, Mara said, taking the bottle back from Zev and setting it on the table. Maybe hes hiding somewhere in the house right now. She leaned down and kissed Zevs ear. Thats barely funny, Zev said, running his hand up her leg. I know how we can warm up faster, Mara said. Should we go find the bedroom? Id rather be near the fire. She slid off Zevs lap and onto the floor. Zev leaned his head back. There were thin cracks in the low ceiling, like broken glass. He helped Mara with the button on his pants and wiggled them down to his ankles, then closed his eyes. Oh man he breathed. You know I think this place is starting to grow on me He buried his hand in Maras hair. Faintly, the sound of bells clattered. But it was probably just the old radiator spitting to life after who knew how long. Ow. Zev winced. Getting a little sloppy there, babe Maras head bobbed faster. The clattering sound really didnt resemble bells. More like wind chimes. Wind chimes made of damp wood. Ow! Zevs toes curled. I cant find the whiskey! Mara shouted from behind him. I think we forgot to pack it! Zevs eyes shot open. A man with a horsey face and dark, bleary eyes looked up at him. His dry lips were parted, exposing rows of crowded teeth. Too many teeth. What the fuck! Zev jumped up, flailing. He tried to run, but his feet caught on his pants and he toppled forward, landing hard on the cold floor. Mara ran into the room. What happened? Her eyes creased with confusion at the sight of Zevs pants around his ankles. What are you doing? Zev tugged at his pants with one hand and rolled onto his back, pointing with the other toward the chair. Hes There was nobody. What? Mara looked around the room. Zev trembled, his breathing quick and shallow. There was a man he said. And he took your pants off? Mara approached Zev slowly. Are you hard? Yeah. Zev sat up, his shaking hands fumbling with his pants. I mean no. I mean I thought he was you. The fire snapped as the flames grew. Mara knelt beside Zev. Are you messing with me? No. Zevs eyes flittered around the room, finding the painting of the man. His bleary eyes stared deep into Zevs. It was him. That man was here. Mara looked at the painting for a few seconds, then sighed. Okay, very well done, she said. Im sufficiently spooked. Did you get a good angle? She looked around for a phone propped on a shelf or table, recording, and when she didnt see one she shrugged. Pull your pants up and help me find the whiskey. She stood and started back toward the kitchen. Zev stood slowly, shaking so hard his knees clapped. He tore his eyes from the painting and looked at the table beside the chair. No whiskey. His crotch ached. He pulled the waist of his pants open and peered down. Scrapes. Scrapes along the length of his penis, like from teeth. Nope. Zev buckled his pants. Fuck this. He stormed from the sitting room and into the kitchen, where Mara was stooped over a suitcase, clothes scattered around. Come on, he said, taking her arm and leading her into the mudroom and toward the front door. Zev what the fuck? Mara stumbled after him. What are you doing? Were getting the fuck out of here. Now. Our stuff! she said, pointing back to the suitcases. Fuck our stuff Ill buy you more stuff. What are you crazy? Zev dragged her to the door and threw it open. A blast of icy air and whorls of thick snowflakes roared in. Zev stopped in the doorway and shielded his eyes. There was already an inch of snow carpeting the Pruis, and the visibility was so poor he could barely see the tree line. I guess were driving in a fucking blizzard he said, tugging Mara through the door. She came with him easily. Too easily. He looked back. In his hand, only Maras empty coat. Mara? Zev scanned the empty mudroom. Babe? There was a sound from the housethe sitting room or deeper. A grunt. A moan. Fuck yes Maras voice, breathless. Oh my god fuck yes Zev took a half-step back inside, Maras coat dangling at his side in the frigid wind. Fuck! Yes! Oh my godfuck me! Fuck me!!! Mara? Zevs voice was thin. The wind seemed to guide him back into the house. Fuck meyes! Like that! Harder! Her voice pitched an octave higher. HarOh Ah! WaitWait no WaitStop! Stop!!! A freezing gust rushed into the houseand with it the frantic clatter of damp chimestussling Zevs hair and whipping snowflakes around him. An animal scream like Zev had never heard Maraor anyonemake in his life spilled forth from the bowels of the house. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Then the door slammed shut at his back with a cruel and mocking finality. # Benno looked through the floor of the Shenandoah at the frozen forest below. Looks nice, he said before he remembered saying something similar to Dante the first time he visited the Everson Familys mansion. Onus fiddled at the console. Its a Schema D Realm, he said. There is nothing at all unusual about it except for the Warden that resides here. There was a small clearing among the snowy trees, just large enough to land the Shenandoah if Onus was careful. This may not be as trivial as dealing with the likes of August Kane, Onus went on. August was a stupid, arrogant hedonist. And he had no reason to suspect that you could hurt him, let alone kill him. But word of his demise has likely spread. Kerr, the Trickster Warden who oversees this Realm, will be prepared. I suspect he will keep himself concealed. The Shenandoah kicked up a veil of snow as it dropped into the clearing, and a swarm of crows scattered into the boughs. Trust nothing here, Onus said, opening the doorway in the vessels hull and pulling the hood of his cloak up over his head. They stepped out into the cold air. The sun had descended below the frozen canopy, and the pale blue sky promised a coldand imminentnight. Onus pointed at an angle toward the tops of the trees, where, in the middle distance, a pillar of gray smoke rose lazily. Do you see that? he asked. Yeah, said Benno. Onus nodded, then raised his Gemstoke to his lips. Gemma, he said. In exactly one hour, recalibrate both me and-or Benno back to the Shenandoah, and once were onboard, recalibrate the Shenandoah back to the Inn. No matter what. This command cannot be overridden. DIRECTIVE INVENTORIED. He adjusted his hood lower over his eyes, took a slow breath, and started off across the clearing toward the tree line. Benno peeked into the collar of his shirt. Are you warm enough? Holes smiled. Yep! Benno draped his beard over his shoulder and followed Onus. # The smoke rose from a chimney. The chimney was no more than a column of black rocks extending from the thatched roof of a wooden shack standing amidst a thicket of white pines and briar. The shack wasnt much larger than a tent. There were no windows. The door was crooked in the crooked doorway, and on it, painted in white, was a crudely drawn triangle. Kerr used to be a filmmaker, Onus whispered. They were crouched among the trees about fifty yards from the shack, watching, their breath billowing around them. He had a wildly successful career. Fame, fortune. That was how he met Horus. Onus slid the hood back an inch. His early work was compelling. Astute. There was a time when I considered myself a fan. Though the more successful he became, the more deranged his art. His films declined into tasteless smut. Pornography and snuff. And by all accounts, so did his behavior. Benno chuckled. Onus looked at him. What? Nothing. I just I guess its stupid, but its strange to me that you had filmmakers in Luridia. Though of course you did. Why wouldnt you? Kerr was not from Luridia, obviously. Onus returned his attention to the shack. But he was from a similar Schema A Realm. And yes, Luridia does have filmmakers. Some of the best who ever livedQuiet The dry susurrus of briar drew their focus to the left of the shack. There was movement, and then a deer emerged from the thicket. A buck, his numerous antlers speckled with snow. He sniffed at the air, turned toward Benno and Onus for a moment, then loped off. Do you smell that? Benno asked. Cooking, Onus said. Benno nodded. And that sound Onus pointed up to the darkening sky. Benno tilted his ear. Wind chimes? he asked. Onus shook his head. I dont think so. He closed his eyes and listened deeply, his brow furrowed. I dont think so He opened his eyes. Lets go. He already knows were here, theres no point in sneaking around. He stood to his full height and started toward the shack, lowering his hood from his blue hair as he went. Again, Benno followed. # Onus nearly had to crawl on his hands and knees to fit through the door. Benno also had to stoop, though only slightly, and when he straightened up he was met with warmth and the enchanting aroma of something baking. They were in a quaint country mudroom. Robins egg wallpaper and light-wood wainscoting. A handmade wooden bench against one wall and a coatrack standing beside it. A circular, pinkish rug in the middle of the floor, frayed from decades of use. A wooden sledlike the kind Benno remembered from his youthleaning against the wall. Old brass light fixtures with incandescent bulbs cast soft orange light. A general sense of homeyness. The ceiling was high enough that Onus could stand upright. He and Benno shared a look. Trust nothing, Onus reminded him. From somewhere nearby, a woman hummed softly. A meandering melody. Benno passed through the only doorway, which led to a kitchen. There was a table covered with a delicate tablecloth, a series of well-used candles on a wax-covered plate standing on one side. Four pine-green chairs lined it. Pinkish curtains were drawn over the windows. A deep cast-iron sink and woodblock countertops. Framed illustrations of farm animals lined the walls. Standing in front of the old enamel chambers stove was a woman. She was young, maybe in her late-twenties. She gazed absentmindedly at the wall, humming to herself. She wore yellow oven mitts and a summer dress that seemed made for someone shorter. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if from crying. When she noticed Benno and Onus she gasped, then giggled. Oh shit, she said, pushing a strand of hair from her face with the thumb of her mitt. I forgot you two were coming over. She smoothed the lap of her dress, which fell barely halfway down her thighs. You must be Onus. She smiled prettily. I heard you were tall but wowsers. And youre Benno. She looked Benno up and down. I guess you do seem a little scary. But in a cute way. Benno glanced at Onus. Ugh, how fucking rude of me. The young woman pulled off her right oven mitt. Im Mara. Its really great to meet you both. She crossed the room and extended her hand. Onus and Benno left their hands at their sides. Mara stood with her hand out for several seconds before dropping it. You guys more of the hugging type? She looked back and forth between them from her bloodshot eyes, then shrugged. Is it still coming down out there? Benno nodded. Before the snow started, Mara said. I noticed rosebuds behind the house. Benno frowned, not following. And theres a hill. Not too steep. Okay, Benno said, at a loss. Mara shrugged. Well make yourselves comfortable. You know you warm up faster if you take off layers. Because cold air gets trapped in your clothes. Take off as many as you want. I dont mind. A wind-up timer on the counter screeched. Oop! Mara hurried to it and turned it off. Toothpick-test time. She went to the chambers stove and tugged open the oven door, then bent over to look inside. Benno averted his eyes. Is this the best hes got? Hm? Onus yanked his gaze away from Mara. I uh I think hes biding his time. Its ready! Mara straightened up and placed a metal cake pan with a steaming yellow cake on top of the stove. This is my moms recipe, she said. She had me really young. A lot of people say we look like sisters. She tossed her remaining oven mitt aside and went to a row of shelves, then stood on her tiptoes and strained to reach a stack of plates on the top shelf. It needs a few minutes to cool. You boys want something to drink? Milk? Whiskey? Benno glanced at Onus, who stared at the backs of Maras flexed legs. Where is Kerr? Benno asked. Onus cleared his throat. Mara frowned over her bare shoulder. Who? Dont waste our time, Benno said. Mara abandoned her pursuit of the plates and turned around. Theres no one here but me, she said. Just me, all alone She hooked a finger into the low collar of her dress and adjusted it. Id really love for you guys to try a piece of my cake. I think youll like it a lot. Benno rolled his eyes. This isnt going to work. What do you mean? Mara frowned and bit her lower lip. At the same moment, a single tear spilled from her eye and skipped down her cheek. Im just trying to be a good host. Is there something else you need instead? Her fingers skirted along the dresss hem. I have other stuff you can eat, besides cake. Another tear sprung forth. You can have anything you want. Anything. How about you? She looked at Benno. Maybe we can sit together and watch the fire. Share a blanket. Just talk for awhile. I know you like to go slow. I think thats wonderful. Tears flowed freely from her red, puffy eyes. Or you. She looked at Onus, and her lips spread into a sneer. Ive heard rumors about the Implacable Cock of Horus. Are they true? She ran a hand across her chest, leaving both nipples erect beneath the fabric. Are you as implacable as your name? Ill bet you arent. Ill bet you cant handle me. Her hands pawed at her dress, which rode up her hips. Why dont you prove me wrong. Make me swallow my wordsor whatever. Go on, lets see. Her tongue traced the curve of her lips while her watering eyes creased with griefher expression a bizarre and startling contradistinction. Show me, Cock of Horus. Right here. Right now. Show me what youve got. Onus swallowed audibly. Benno punched him in the arm, hard enough that he yelped. Shes like a quarter your size Mmm, Mara interjected, her lips pursed. and youre the one whos been warning me not to trust my senses and keep my guard up. So get your shit together. Onus looked at the floor, sheepish, massaging his bicep. Im sorry, he said. I, uh I was in Augusts Bathhouse for seven hundred years. Im a bit vulnerable. Benno sighed. And maybe you shouldve dealt with that before we came here. Because this is not the time or place. Of course. Onus nodded, resolved. Benno returned his attention to Mara. I dont know if youre an illusion, or if youre real and under some kind ofI dont knowspell or whatever. But I do know that Kerr is here. And I think he should just save us all some time and come talk to us directly. Mara blinked at Benno for a beat, thick tears falling onto the front of her dress. Then she tsked and shrugged. Well, she said. There is someone else here. I didnt think you guys would be interested in meeting him. But if you insist She snapped her fingers in the direction of a darkened doorway to her right. Immediately, a man entered from the dark. He was Maras age, muscular, and wearing only a pair of small shorts. His eyes, like Maras, were red and watery. He smiled at Onus and Benno. Oh hey, guys, he said. Sorry I didnt come down earlier. I got carried away with my calisthenics. You know how it is. He stepped forward and extended his hand toward Benno. Names Zev. Nice to meet you. They dont shake hands, Mara said, leaning on the stove and grinning coyly beneath her sad eyes. Oh shit. Zev nodded. Hugs? I offered them some cake, but they didnt want any. Mara pouted. Zev recoiled theatrically. They turned down your cake, babe? Mara nodded. Boys. Zev gave Benno and Onus an sincere look. You gotta try her cake. Im telling you. Ive had a lot of cake in my life. But Maras is I mean, it puts all the other cake to shame. Enough of this, Benno said. Zev frowned and looked at Mara, who frowned and shrugged. Aw well babe, Ill have a piece of your cake. Id hate for it all to go to waste. Really? Fuck yeah. Im starving anyways. Maybe if they watch you eat it, itll convince them to try some. Hey, thats a good idea. Zev looked at Onus and Benno. His eyelids fluttered as tears gathered along his lids. You guys wanna watch me eat Maras cake? Benno looked at the ceiling, exasperated. Onus frowned deeply and shook his head. Give me a big old fucking piece, Zev said, standing over Mara and gripping her waist. Do you want a corner piece? Mara asked, her breath quickening. Or a piece from the middle? You know I like the middle piece. Zev buried his face against Maras neck and started to cry. Mara wrapped her leg around Zev and threw her head back, her mouth wide with ecstasy, her shoulders heaving with sobs. Zevs hands groped at her body, riffling her dress. Fucking delicious Zev wept as he cupped one of her breasts and stooped to take it in his mouth. Yes Mara bawled, snot running down her lips, her hands tugging Zevs shorts down. Fucking yes Onus tented a hand over his eyes. Were done. Benno pulled his fathers Smith & Wesson from the waistband of his pants and leveled it at the weeping, copulating couple. He bent his finger around the trigger, feeling the first stage creep back dlorsulwydodlorsulchafdlorsulventdlorsulemagis His finger eased off the trigger, and the revolvers muzzle lowered. Whats wrong? Onus asked, watching him from under his tented hand. By all means I think you need to clear this room out. I just Benno lowered the revolver further. The back of his head tingled, a warm sensation like breath and laughter. It used to be his favorite thing. If theyre real, Benno said. As in, if theyre not illusions or whatever, and theyre stuck here I just I dont want him to see me kill them. I dont want to kill them. Benno slid the revolver back into his pants. Fine, well Onus glanced out from under his hand just as Mara spat on Zevs penis, both of them convulsing with sobs. In that case lets make our way elsewhere. Clearly were not making any progress in here. Benno could not have agreed more. They passed through the next doorway, and this time Benno led. [Part V - Into the Woods] Chapter 36 - Ad Nauseam Its interesting to me, Benno said as they passed through a sitting roomcramped with dusty, antique, furniture, its walls lined with dark portraits of austere men and women, a fire burning in the mantleand into a hallway that branched into additional rooms, with a staircase leading upward. That these people who Sul gave all this power to, that they choose to use it to control other people. I wonder which came first. The power, or the need to control. Onus peered through a doorway, then looked up the stairs. After a second of consideration, I will say that Suls Wardens had an interest in power and control long before they crossed paths with Sul itself. Though I can say it has only grown worse. The stairs creaked as they ascended. There were additional paintings lining the wall of the staircase: A snowy clearing carved with animal footprints; A frozen pond, with a hole caved near its middle; A buck standing amidst a thuck of briar, his antlers molting; A rocky crag draped in ice; A ball of snakes. At the second floor landing was another hallway, and more doors, all closed. The doors white paint was cracked, and the knobs were bruised and calcified. There was a hall-length carpet, stained with dark splotches, the smell of mold rising from it. Beneath the carpet: a sooty concrete floor. Maybe we should return to the kitchen, Onus said. Benno shot him a look. Im joking, of course. Onus offered a placating smile. Of course Im joking It was impossible to mute their footfalls on the hallways old floors. It didnt matter anyway, Benno figured. Still, the housesor whatever it wasrefusal to allow them undetected passage made him uneasy. He may not be in any physical danger, but Onus was. And Holes was. And as he well knew, it wasnt just a body that could be injured. They slowed to a stop outside the first door. What is it we should be looking for? Benno asked, pressing his ear against the doors flindering paint, where he was met only with silence. Well know it when we see it, Onus said, then turned his ear toward the far extremity of the hallway. That sound Benno listened. Wind chimes. Or damp bells. Like change jangling in a pocket. Onus shook his head as if to disperse a spell of dizziness. Shall we? He gestured for Benno to proceed through the door. # They were met with warmth and the enchanting aroma of something baking. A quaint country mudroom. Robins egg wallpaper and light-wood wainscoting. A handmade wooden bench against one wall and a coatrack standing beside it. A circular, pinkish rug in the middle of the floor, frayed from decades of use, with two sets of icy, muddy footprints across itone Bennos size, one much largerleading off through the only doorway. An old BB gunlike the kind Benno remembered from his youthleaning against the wall. Old brass light fixtures with incandescent bulbs cast soft orange light. A general sense of nostalgia. Onus and Benno shared a grave look. Looks familiar, said Benno. Trust nothing, Onus said. From somewhere nearby, a woman wept softly. Benno turned around and looked back out the door theyd just come through. Instead of the hallway at the top of the stairs, he was dismayed to find he was looking into a mudroom, with robins egg wallpaper. The same room in which they stood. Stuck. We mightve fucked up, here, he said. Thats why we put a timer on. Onus patted his pants pocket where, presumably, his Gemstoke was stored. Benno nodded, uneasy, and shut the door. Then he led them into the kitchen. Mara stood at the chambers stove, her yellow oven mitt-clad hands dangling at her sides, her face downturned, her shoulders heaving with sobs. For a long time she didnt notice Benno and Onus. Then she looked up to wipe her eyes with her forearm, and when she did she gasped. Oh! She blinked at the two men, then smiled. You came back. Im so happy. She smoothed her dress and sniffled. The cake is almost ready. Why dont you two have a seat. She indicated the table. Benno looked at Onus. Onus shrugged. We may have to play this out, he said. Benno ran his hand down the length of his beard. Onus had prepared him for strangenessthis Warden had earned the moniker The Trickster, after allbut hed underestimated just how frustrating it might be. Frustrating in numerous ways. If Benno could just get his hands on Kerr, they could move on. But of course Kerr knew this. He wanted to hide. He wanted to play games. The two men sat at the table across from one another, Onus with his back to Mara. When Mara stretched to retrieve plates from the top shelf, Benno took the opportunity to pull the curtains aside and peer out the window, where he was met only with darkness. I think this might be the best cake Ive ever made, Mara said as the timer screeched and she bent over to retrieve the cake from the oven. So fluffy. Wheres Zev? Onus asked, his eyes fixed on Benno. Mara sniffled some more as she removed her oven mitts and tossed them on the stove. I dont know, she said. He went off somewhere. I think I upset him. Howd you do that? Onus asked, his voice barely masking his unease. Mara took a slow breath and pushed her hair back from her face. I told him I wanted to get pregnant, she said. That I wanted to start a family. He wasnt happy. I think he hates children. She turned back to the stove and started cutting the cake. How about you two? she asked over her shoulder. Do you like children? Onus looked at Benno. I do, said Benno. Do you have any? Mara placed a piece of steaming cake on a plate. Bennos fingers drummed on the table. Yes, he said. Ill bet youre a great dad. Mara carried two plates to the table and set them down in front of Benno and Onus. And what about you? she asked the Lonely Son. Yes, Onus said. I have daughters. Thats sweet. How many? Hundreds. Mara whistled. Youve been busy. She looked from Onus to Benno, her eyes bloodshot, then slapped her forehead. Forks! She scurried to a drawer, her dress jouncing. Im so distracted right now, with everything going on. She returned to the table and placed down two forks, then sat abruptly on Bennos lap. Benno tensed. Oh my. Maras lips toyed with a smile. Is that your fathers revolver in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? Benno fought the urge to throw her off of him. Careful, Mara said. Or youll shoot your eye out. She winked. Benno frowned, and a thought started to form, or a feeling that he was missing something. But then Holes peeked out from his collar, and Mara gasped. And who is this? she asked. Benno guided the flower back into concealment. So how long have you been here, Mara? he asked. Maras smile vanished, and her eyes filled with tears. Thats not something you ask, she said. Its very rude. Im sorry. Benno cleared his throat. A moment passed, Maras wet, red eyes boring into Bennos. Then her smile returned, and she shifted her weight on his lap. So are you gonna taste it? she asked, scooting the plate closer to Benno. I dont eat, Benno said. Thats so sad. She traced the edge of the pyramid protruding from Bennos forehead. Well at least you have your trophy. She looked at Onus. What about you? Do you eat? Onus picked up his fork. Sure, he said. I eat. He cut a piece of cake, but then left it sitting on his plate and glanced at Benno. Benno shook his head. Eat it, Mara said, extending her leg under the table so her bare foot prodded Onus crotch. Onus fumbled with the fork and jammed the piece of cake into his mouth. Mara watched him chew. Its good, Onus said, nodding. Mara stood up from Bennos lap and strolled toward Onus, gliding her fingertips on the edge of the table. Its my mothers recipe. She stopped and leaned forward, planting her hands on the tabletop. I have a thought, she said. It might be crazy, but hear me out She leaned forward further, her dresss fabric drooping. Maybe one of you could do it. Onus glanced at Benno. Do what? he asked. Tears overfilled Maras eyelids and dropped from her cheeks, leaving damp splotches on the tablecloth. Maybe one of you could Her mouth split into a horrible grimace as more tears issued forth. Maybe one of you She stood back and turned around. Forget it. You would never agree. She walked in a tight circle, shaking her head. Theres something wrong with him. He doesnt think right. How could you hate children? The whole point of being alive is to have children. Were wired to want children. She stopped and turned back to the table, putting her hands on her hips. Or is it me? she asked. Is there something wrong with me? Am I not pretty enough? Onus shoved another piece of cake into his mouth. Youre pretty, Benno said. Then what is it? Does he think I wont be a good mother? Am I lacking some maternal qualities that hes looking for in a mate? Benno shrugged. I dont know you that well, he said, then added: But I think youd make a fine mother. Mara nodded, her tears gathering in the ditch of her lips. Thank you, she said. I know I would. I know I will. And if it wont be Zev, then Again she approached the table, and again she leaned forward, this time drawing her face close to Bennos. You do it, she said, her breath sweet and sour at once. Hell never know. And it doesnt matter anyway. Well just Ill put something in his cake and hell go to sleep forever. Then it will just be us. You are such a good father, Permanent. You can do it all again, correct all your past mistakes. Theres nothing but time. She turned to Onus. Or you. It is your obligation, after all, to spawn progeny. You would simply be doing the work that your body was machined to do. Cock of Horus. Ill even promise you a son. She looked back and forth between the two men, her red eyes flooded with tears. Im ovulating, she said. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Onus fork clacked on his plate. Benno stood. Were gonna do another take, he said, grabbing Onus by his sleeve and pulling him to his feet. Mara stood back as they hurried from the kitchen. I think Im starting to understand, Benno said, dragging Onus behind him into the sitting room. Its a scene, but were not the ones They stopped in their tracks. Zev stood at the mantle, his back to them, his shorts around his knees. His arm pumped vigorously at the front of his waist, his arm flexing. Die he muttered, his face angled at the crepitating flames. Die Benno and Onus sidled along the wall toward the hallway. Die Zevs arm pumped faster. Die! Die! He heaved, and the fire hissed. Benno and Onus rushed to the stairs. The paintings on the wall were different now: A snowy clearing marred with entrails; A baby bird, dead atop a tangle of roots; A dark shack nestled in briar, a white triangle scrawled on its door; A buck mounting a doe, their faces looking back at Benno, their eyes wet and creased with misery. Lets try a different door, Benno said, leading Onus down the landing and into the sooty, narrow hallway. Can you explain to me your thinking? Onus asked, trailing. Benno stopped at the door after the one theyd already entered. Not really When I was in Augusts Bathhouse, I noticed something. His chattel, as he referred to themthe people thereall had the same, crying eyes. Onus looked down, nodding. Knowing. I assumed at the time it was simply because they were miserable, Benno continued. And Im sure it wasat least in part. But there was something about it, the way their eyes expressed one thing while the rest of them expressed something else Thats how the Wardens control people. Not how, but a symptom of it. Thats how you can tell. By their eyes. Like Mara. And Zev. So what does that mean? Benno fingered the knob on the second door. One of my favorite movieswell, me and Holes favorite movies, was The Shining. Of course, said Onus. I know it well. Benno chuckled. Well there you go, Holes. Holes grinned out from Bennos collar. Anyway, Benno went on. Back when I was a kid, I used to watch that movie on VHS. At the end of it, if you let all the credits go by, there was some behind-the-scenes footage. Just recordings of Jack Nicholson getting into character and Stanley Kubrick being an abusive asshole to Shelley Duval. But one of the things I noticedeven back thenwas that when they were rolling, Kubrick was always right there. Like right off frame. It would have made more sense for him to be by the camera, or at least far enough away that he wasnt risking getting picked up in the shot. But it seemed almost compulsive for him. He needed a special vantage. He needed to be part of an audience of one. A viewing of his creation that only he could have. What are you saying? Kerr was a filmmaker. He sounds a lot like Kubrickjust a bit more extreme. Hes playing something out here with Mara and Zev. Some kind of scene. But theyre the actors, not us. Were just the audience. And so is he. I dont Hes there. Hes down there right off frame. Viewing his creation from a special vantage. But where? Onus asked before belching loudly. Excuse me, he said, startled. Just keep your eyes open. Benno turned the knob. And trust nothing. # A quaint country mudroom. Robins egg wallpaper and wainscoting. A handmade wooden bench and a coatrack. A circular, pinkish rug frayed from decades of use, with four sets of icy, muddy footprints across ittwo Bennos size, two much largerleading off through the only doorway. An old teddy bearlike the kind Benno remembered from his youthmissing an eye, leaning against the wall. Old brass light fixtures with incandescent bulbs cast soft orange light. A general sense of deja vu. From the kitchen, Mara wept violently. What exactly should we be looking for? Onus asked, peering around the mudroom. I dont know, said Benno. Lets go talk to Mara again. Onus stomach gargled loudly. Are you okay? Benno asked. Im fine. Onus massaged his abdomen. Lets go. They entered the kitchen. Mara stood at the chambers stove sobbing into her yellow oven mitts. Nothing else had changed except for the fact that she was enormously pregnant. She looked up after a few moments, her face flushed and her eyes swollen. Looks like Zev came around, Benno said. Maras shoulders lurched. I dont know what Im going to do, she said between sobs. It wasnt supposed to be like this. Onus lingered by the doorway, his stomach making noisy gurgles. Isnt this what you wanted? Benno asked, taking a step toward Mara. Mara shook her head rapidly, like a child sinking into a tantrum. I cant do this alone. No one is supposed to do this alone. Wheres Zev? He left. He couldnt even look at me. Now hes out there She turned and stared, listless, at the curtains over the window. There are dangerous animals in the woods. Lions. Tigers Benno frowned. The same feeling that he was missing something swarmed in his stomach, but nothing emerged. Mara blinked. Its not his fault. She wiped tears and snot across her face with a forearm. He felt ashamed, and helpless. Because he couldnt stop it. Couldnt stop what? Mara scowled at her belly. Couldnt stop this from happening to me. She looked up through the bars of her hair. Benno glanced back at Onus, who leaned on the wall just inside the doorway, then took another step toward Mara. Who did this to you? Maras bloodshot eyes darted around the kitchen. It was the man she whispered. The man with all the teeth. Onus belched loudly. Where is this man now? Benno asked. Mara hugged herself, her arms trembling. I cant say She inhaled sharply, her brow creasing. The wind-up alarm screeched. Clear liquid splashed onto the floor from between Maras legs. No She gawped at the floor. No Im not ready Benno Onus voice was faint. Benno took another step toward Mara. Where is he, Mara? Mara sobbed, clutching her belly. Im not ready. Please. Make it stop. Benno. Benno turned around. What? Onus leaned heavily against the wall. His face was pale and clammy, and his hands trembled at his abdomen. I dont feel well, he said. Benno rushed to him, arriving just in time to catch him as he slid off the wall. He hoisted his arm over his shoulder and looked him in his unfocused eyes. That fucking cake, Benno said. You idiot. Mara wept, despondent. More liquid spilled from between her legs, but this time it was red, splattering on her bare feet and the chambers stove. Shit. Benno hefted Onus arm further around his shoulders and fished Gemma from his pocket. Gemma, he said. Take us back to the Inn now. ERROR. INTERFERENCE NUMBER 528. INVENTORIED RECALIBRATION CANNOT BE OVERRIDDEN. Benno nearly laughed. Leave it to Gemma to literalize a simple directive into a potentially deadly mistake. Come on. Benno led Onus through the kitchen. Onus long legs wobbled until Benno was essentially dragging him on his knees. Mara looked up at them as they passed, and for the first time Benno saw the woman behind Kerrs tricks. Unwilling. Trapped in a waking nightmare. But she was not scared to tears as her ceaseless crying would suggest. She was angry. She was fucking furious. Benno nodded at her as he carried Onus through the sitting room and up the stairs. The paintings on the wall blurred in his periphery. As they reached the landing, Mara started screaming behind them. Benno helped Onus to the floor and leaned him against the mouth of the hallway. The Lonely Sons head lolled and his eyes blinked slowly, unfocused. Benno knelt in front of him. Hey. Can you hear He jumped back as Onus vomited stringy yellow fluid onto his own chest. Gemma, Benno said. How much time left before you recalibrate us to the Inn? FOUR MINUTES, SEVENTEEN SECONDS. Do you know why Onus is sick? HAZARDOUS LEVELS OF CYANOGEN CHLORIDE DETECTED. Can you help him? YES. Do that. Benno leaned down and took Onus face in his hands. Im going back for another take, he said. Ill see you on the Shenandoah. Onus eyes tumbled, and he moaned. Benno stood up and pulled Holes from his shirt. I need you to stay with him, he said. Holes leapt from Bennos hands onto Onus shoulder. It nestled there, its plasticky blue petal stroking the Lonely Sons gaunt face. Maras screams pitched into a new octave of agony. Benno rushed down the hallway. Since the second take, hed been unable to shake the conviction that he was close, that he was close to getting his hands on Kerr. There was just something he was missing, something hiding in plain sight Maras screams tore through the house, and as Benno opened the third door and started through, they were joined by the shrill, heartbreaking shrieks of a newborn. # Warmth and the unctuous odor of cooking meat. A quaint country mudroom. Robins egg wallpaper and wainscoting. A handmade wooden bench and a coatrack. A circular, pinkish rug frayed from decades of use, with six sets of icy, muddy footprints across itthree Bennos size, three much largerleading off through the only doorway. An old tennis racketBenno remembered having one just like it, given to him by his father one summer as a belated birthday presentleaning against the wall. Old brass light fixtures with incandescent bulbs cast soft orange light. A general sense of foreboding. From the kitchen, silence. Benno crept forward. Hes here. Right off frame. Mara sat on the floor in front of the chambers stove, her yellow oven mitts flopped dejectedly in her lap. Her eyes were crusty with dried tears. She was no longer pregnant. She looked up at Benno, dazed, blinking as if she wasnt sure he was there at all. Wheres the baby? Benno asked, scanning the kitchen. There were the shelves with plates and bowls, the stove, the pinkish curtains, the cast-iron sink and woodblock countertops. Framed illustrations of farm animals lined the walls. The four green chairs at the table covered with a delicate tablecloth, the candles on a wax-covered plate standing on one side Mara opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. Benno went to the candles. Their wicks were frayed and oily, long unused. Benno picked one up and held it at eye level. The milky wax softened in his palm. Nothing about the candle was out of the ordinary. It was as inconspicuous as anything else in the room. Benno crushed it in his hand. The wax oozed through his fingers and fell in clumps onto the floor. Just a candle. I think Mara murmured, looking down at her over mitts. I think Zev is dead. Benno wiped his palm on his shirt. Why do you say that? he asked, walking slowly along the wall, eyeing everything. Mara took a slow breath, her shoulders rising and falling. Its cold outside It is. Benno picked up a teacup from a shelf, peered at it, and tossed it over his shoulder, where it shattered on the floor. I dont like the cold, Mara said. You cant play outside. Sure you can, Benno said, opening a drawer filled with napkins, then shutting it. You can build snowmen. Ski. Whatever. Mara shook her head. I dont like any of those things. What do you like? Mara blinked slowly. When I was a little girl The wind-up alarm screeched. Its ready, Mara said, standing. She removed her oven mitts and set them on the stovetop, then opened the oven. Tendrils of gray smoke drifted out, and the smells of meat intensified. She reached in, bare-handed, for the cake pan. Wait Benno said. But shed already taken hold of it. Benno grimaced at the sound of her skin sizzling as she drew the pan from the oven and dropped it roughly on the stove. Bennos chest tightened, and his mouth went dry. Jesus he breathed. Mara turned to him. Its my mothers recipe, she said. She had me very young. The charred thing in the cake pan was gnarled and puckered. The wind-up alarm continued to screech as Mara fumbled a knife from a drawer with a hand already starting to blister, then stood over the stove, her arm flexing as she sawed. You have to try some, she said, her voice flat. I think youll really like it. She turned, holding the plate, her hand trembling minutely, and held it out to Benno. Benno glowered at the plate. If you try it, Mara said, fresh tears gathering in her eyes. Hell come out. Benno peered at her. Just a bite. She held the plate forward. Just take a bite and hell come out and talk. Thats all you want, right? For him to come out? I dont believe that, Benno said. I think hes lying. The plate wobbled in Maras hand. He wouldnt do that. Hes impressed with your performance. He says youre a natural. But Onus He doesnt think he has what it takes. What about you? Benno asked. What about me? Does he like your performance? Maras wet eyes creased. He lets me improvise, she said. Just enough to get what he wants. Though he didnt totally follow, her words sent a chill up Bennos spine. Its cold outside, Mara said, almost a whisper. Yeah, Benno looked around the room. You mentioned that Its cold. Benno looked at her. Her exhausted eyes looked back, and her lip trembled. Shes trying to tell me Mara, Benno said. What did you like to do outside when you were a little girl? Maras nose ran. Im not allowed to say. She gritted her teeth, her eyes digging into Bennos. Then she seized Bennos arm and pulled herself toward him. For a moment he resisted, but then he allowed her to guide his hand to her waist, and she nuzzled her mouth against his ear. When its cold out, they hunt for it, she whispered, gyrating with exaggerated movements. They do it to traps. They use it to light fires. Benno frowned and shook his head. I dont understand. They hunt for it, Mara articulated in his ear, her whole body trembling. They do it to traps. They use it to light fires. Benno frowned into her hair. They hunt for it They do it to traps They use it to light fires They hunt for animals? he said. Mara shook her head. They They set traps? Mara withdrew her head, and her glassy eyes widened. Benno nodded. They set traps. They use lighters? Flint? Maras eyes darkened. They hunt for Benno searched. They hunt for prey? Game? Mara tensed. They hunt for game, Benno said. They set traps. They He looked at Mara, who looked back at him, a ghost of hope in her dead eyes. Thank you, he said. INITIALIZING LOCUS RECALIBRATION Gemma said suddenly. Wait Benno spun around. Just wait! He sprinted back through the kitchen and into the mudroom. As he went, his periphery darkened, and the whirring sound rose up. Wait! He skidded on the pink rug as the stifling darkness closed around him, his field of vision attenuating into a point in which he could only see one thing. Formerly a stuffed bear, formerly a BB gun, formerly a sled. Now a tennis racket, leaning against the wall. Hiding in plain sight. A special vantage. He lunged for it as everything went dark. [Part V - Into the Woods] Chapter 37 - Nothing Worth Doing is Easy It had been a weird few days. Well, it had been a weird fourteen years. But only counting thewhat? Five, six days?that Benno had spent outside of Ddoaks shed since being taken from his trailer, a lot of weird shit had happened. A lot of really weird shit. And he wasnt going to say that this was the weirdestthat would be untruebut it was definitely up there. He was in three places. Or at least thats what it felt like. From the waist down he was on the Shenandoah. He determined this because he felt his shoes skidding on the smooth marblethough he couldnt see it. He couldnt see it because from his vantage, there was a belt of interminable darkness around the middle of his body. The Lacuna, he figured, the fabric between Realms, sucking him backwards, bearing down on him with as much force as hed ever felt in his life. His upper half, on the other hand, was still in Kerrs mudroom. He clutched the tennis racket. The tennis racket refused to budge. The sheer fixity of the thing proved to Benno that this desperate last-ditch shot in the dark had been correct. Mara had been trying to tell him the whole time, but he was too dense to figure it out. Until now. But he hadnt accounted for what this would mean if Gemma attempted to recalibrate him. Three competing potencies now battled for dominance: the potency of the Gemstoke, the potency of Benno, and the potency of Kerr. Well, not Kerr. The potency of Sul itself, which had destined Kerr to remain stuck in his Realm. If Benno had to guess, hed say Gemma failed first, and Sul failed last. Bennos knuckles whined and his jaw clenched as the strings of the rackets face rippled and bulged. A shape emerged in it. Bleary eyes. A long, horsey face. A mouth, twisted in pain, with too many rows of teeth. It surfaced from the strings, showing forth until the racket was no longer a racket but flesh, the handle a neck with a beige-suit-clad body extending beneath, and the rim a pair of ears, which Benno clutched in each hand. Kerrs face, gaping in rage and stupefaction. Bennos sneakers skidded on the marble floor of the Shenandoah, looking for traction. He dug his fingers into the bone behind Kerrs ears, feeling it bend and give until it caved and hot blood geysered forth like water from a busted hydrant. Kerrs eyes clenched shut and his mouth widened, exposing more teeth down the tunnel of his throat that bristled like baleen, jangling softly like damp wind chimes. His handsvascular and palejuddered frantically at Bennos wrists before tensing into knurled claws as Benno dug deeper, his own teeth gritted, his arms shaking, a roar bubbling up from him as the force of the Lacuna bared down until, with a final burst of strength, Benno crushed Kerrs head into a pulpy thuck of skin and hair and ribbons of blood, his hands closing on something inside, something that would give no further. And as he rushed backwards, suddenly untethered from the mudroom, he looked into the mirroridentical to the one inside Augustcradled in his palms, Kerrs blood blasted from it as if by a gust of wind, and saw himself in it, and his hands opened, paralyzed by some nonnegotiable force, and the mirror went dark as he shot like light itself and sprawled onto the floor of the Shenandoah. It had been a weird few days. He sat up slowly. The bridge was empty and cast in dark purple light. He stood and wiped his hands on the front of his shirt, leaving dark red streaks. Ice and mud melted from his sneakers in a puddle on the marble floor. Gemma, wheres Onus? ROOM 000003. Is he okay? HE IS IN STABLE CONDITION. Benno wiped his face. Two down. Four to go. Then Sul. His fingers traced the pyramid jutting from his forehead. dlorsulpadigumdlorsulligdlorsularutdlorsultheor Benno frowned. The silent words seemed louder. Not louder, faster. dlorsulpanopdlorsulvestitdlorsuletchifod Angrier. His fingers felt along the seam where the pyramid protruded from the bone of his skull. They felt along the side, then the topthen hit something. dlorsuletodlorsulumbilicot Another seam. Another edge. Another point. dlorsulbrecha Another pyramid. Directly behind the first, emerging from Bennos hair. The same taut skin. The same unyielding hardness beneath. The same size and shape. Some unforeseen symptom of killing a Warden. Bennos fingers pattered from one pyramid to the other. Despite the silent, seething words, despite the ugly protrusionsdespite everything elsethe appearance of a second pyramid brought with it into Bennos pulse a giddy anticipation. He was pleased. This was working. # Onus sat in Eddas bed, propped up on a pile of pillows, blankets folded over his legs. He was pale, and his cheeks were flushed, but he looked better than he had. He sipped from a bowl of steaming soup, which he set on the bedside table as Benno entered. Holes scurried from Onus lap and leapt onto Bennos chest. Howd it go? Onus asked, his voice thin. Benno looked down at the couch-sized cat, sleeping on the floor. The glass triangle on her collar was concealed beneath the bulk of her body. Its done, Benno said, then added: He was a tennis racket. Onus nodded, eyeing the new pyramid on Bennos head. I can see. He tried to sit up, then belched and leaned back. The Chieftain oversees the Twins armies, he said. She is rooted to war, like Kerr to his Realm, and August to the Bathhouse. Before I was imprisoned, she battled on the front lines in a Realm called Albeddon. But that was a long time ago. The fighting might have shifted elsewhere. Im sure Gemma will know. Give me a few hours to regain my strength, and I will be ready. Benno nodded. Im going back first. Back where? To Kerrs Realm. I want to make sure theyre okay. Who? Mara and Zev. Onus orange eyes held Bennos for a long moment. Then he looked away. You could have just killed them, he said, staring off into a corner of the bedroom. You could have killed them and then simply gone through the house destroying everything in sight until you inevitably managed to get your hands on Kerr. But you didnt. You chose to engage with him. You chose to play out his scenes. He looked at Benno. Why? dlorsulgestdlorsuleffeldlorsulmefylin Benno shrugged. It worked. No. Onus shook his head. You had no compunction in killing Augusts chattel. You have blood on your handsenough that a little more would not be noticeable. So explain to me what is different now. Electorate sighed in her sleep. Benno ran his fingers through the hair on the back of his headwhere he could nearly feel the soft breath, the nuzzle of a small nosehis pinky brushing the pyramid. Augusts chattel were too far gone, he said. Killing them was a mercy. Theres something else, said Onus, looking deeply at Benno. Benno held his breath for a moment. Sul has my son, he said, and in saying it, any lingering doubt dissolved. Sul has my son. Onus eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head. What? Benno stroked Holes petals. I dont know how, but He went to Electorate and knelt beside her. She looked up from heavy eyes. These cats, Benno said, taking the glass triangle between his thumb and index finger and angling it toward Onus. They enter peoples dreams, right? Onus nodded, then leaned forward, peering, his brow furrowed. Is that His eyes scanned the space behind Bennos head. Is that your hair? Benno stood up. When my son was a little boy, we used to play this game. He called it climbing the daddy tree. It was silly, simple. He would climb up my back and hang on around my neck. He loved it. He would nestle his face into the back of my hair and he would laugh and laugh. Benno wiped his eyes. Thats what this cat is seeing right now. Shes seeing through my sons eyes. Onus chewed this over, his mouth a narrow line. These cats, he said, leaning back and massaging his belly. Edda bought them from Ann-Copse Fenix, the widow of Lessit Fenix, a wealthy baron in the Realm of Ayora. The widow bred them, as far as I understand, as a hobby, later in her life. When we were young, Edda and I visited the Fenix estate with our father, and Edda took a fascination to them then and there. Dream prowlers, Ann-Copse called them. Able to enter peoples dreams. Or half-enter. I never really understood He sat forward again. You think this cat is watching your son dream? Benno stroked his beard. I think shes watching Sul dream. I dont understand. Benno nodded slowly. Thats me in that collar. Benno touched the back of his head, and in the collar, his hand appeared. Someone is dreaming about me. But theyre dreaming about me as I am here. Right now. That is not a normal dream. Do you know any anyone other than Sul who could dream across Realms, and into reality? Onus shook his head. But what does Sul have to do with your son? Benno stared at the triangle on the cats collar for a long moment, half-concealed by the pillows, then shook his head and shrugged. So this explains your sudden determination to slay all of Suls Wardens. Onus said. I thought you were just being a team player. Whatever method Edda used to locateor try to locatethe Gray Wastes is gone with her. This is the next best option. At the very least Ill get Suls attention. Onus gestured to the cat. You may already have it. More attention. Forgive me for saying this Onus voice softened. But your son is dead. You watched him die. He died in my arms. Benno looked at the cat, whose collar was once again hidden beneath her huge, sleeping body. Your thinking Onus trailed off, his stomach grumbling. I just dont follow. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Benno stood. Rest. He turned and started for the bedroom door. Well leave for Albeddon when I return. As I said Onus adjusted a pillow behind his back. The front in Albeddon might have shifted. Well need to look into where Its Albeddon. Benno paused at the door. Langley mentioned it when I was in Luridia. She said the Twins were there, too. Onus nodded slowly. Almost a thousand years of war He scoffed. It must be a barren hellscape by now. Benno shrugged. As long as theres no cake. # The snowy woods dripped in the sunlight. Bennos sneakers scrrrched in the snow as he made his way toward the cabin. There were footprintsdozens of themjagging in all directions from the cabin and into the trees: shoes and bare feet; human and animal; hoof and paw. Benno looked up at the cabins low roof. There was no smoke rising from the gnarled chimney. The woods smelled like nothing. The only sound was the dripping of melting snow and the occasional scutter of a squirrel. Inside, the cabin was nothing like it had been. A single, small, sooty room. An odor of wet wood and damp soil. Nothing but the rotting floorboards and the concrete beneath. No sign that anyone had been there in years or decades. Benno backed out of the cabin and let the door swing shut. He eyed the triangle scrawled on it. Triangles Pyramids Patterns in chaos. Apophenia. Or maybe not. Or maybe everything meant something. Or maybe there was no difference. He walked around the cabin, eyeing the footprints. It was impossible to discern which were freshif any. He considered the possibility that Mara and Zev had died when Kerr did, that their lives were somehow contingent on his. It was also possiblethough Benno doubted itthat they hadnt been real at all, that they were a manifestation of Kerrs demented sense of art. A third possibility was that theyd escaped, made it somewhere safe once Kerrs spell over them had broken. He could ask Gemma. There was a fifty percent chance shed have an answer Then Benno heard a sound, and stopped in his tracks. He looked up through the trees. A voice, distant, calling out. Zev! Zev!" Maras voice, somewhere deep in the woods. Benno jogged toward it. # Mara staggered, barefoot, through the snowy woods. She held a sooty blanket wrapped tight around her, which trailed on the ground. Her breath billowed as she panted, her panicked eyes scanning the trees. Zev! She shouted, her voice hoarse. Zev! Benno slowed to a stop forty feet away, afraid to startle her. Zev! She turned in a circle. Zev! Her eyes found Benno, and she froze. Benno raised his palms. Its okay, he said. Im here to help you. Mara hugged the blanket tight around her. She looked at Benno through the trees with distrust and a stern, guarded fear. Any of the playfulness induced by Kerr was gone, and though her eyes were still red from prolonged crying, they were now dry. Youre real, she said, not a question. Benno nodded. The person who did this to you, hes dead. Maras gaze faltered as she thought this over. I know, she said. I mean, I dont know, but What is the date? Benno brought Gemma to his lips. Gemma, what is the date in this Realm? FRIDAY, FEBRUARY EIGHTEENTH, TWO-THOUSAND TWENTY FIVE. THE TIME IS THREE FORTY THREE PM. Maras nostrils flared. Twenty-five Two-thousand twenty-five? Her lips trembled a silent word. We were in there for two years Benno took a few steps toward her. Its over now, he said. He nodded toward her bare feet, a dark shade of red. Let me get you some boots. Two years Mara stared off through the trees. Gemma, some snow boots for Mara. And a coat. Benno caught them as they fell and offered them forward. Mara stayed where she was. Two years A clump of snow fell from a bough nearby, drawing her attention. She shivered and turned in a circle. I need to find my fianc, she said. Hes out here somewhere. Ill help. Benno tossed the coat toward her, followed by the boots, which all landed at her feet. Well find him. # They found him kneeling at the base of a boulder, still in his shorts, his skin light blue. Icicles had formed along his brow, and his eyes were rolled back almost to the point that his irises were no longer visible. Holes crept out of Benno collar and peered down. He looks like Jack, he said. Benno nodded. Mara walked slowly toward Zev. The coat and boots Gemma had fashioned for her were too biga symptom, Benno figured, of not being synchronized to the subjectand she stumbled a little before falling to her knees in front of her fiancs frozen corpse. She touched his cheek gently with her fingertips, then withdrew and clutched her hand as if shed been burned. Benno watched her, standing back. Mara took slow, steady breaths. It was our first vacation since we got engaged, she said. He wanted to go to the beach. Somewhere warm. I thought it would be fun to get out into nature. We found this place listed online. It was a great deal. Good reviews. The woods looked beautiful in the pictures. It reminded me of a cabin my grandfather used to have, that we would go to in the winters. He used to take me hunting She pushed her oily hair back from her face, and again touched Zevs stiff skin. This time she did not withdraw. Im so sorry, she said. We should have gone to the beach. We should have had our whole lives She lowered her head and for a long timea minute or moreshe was silent. Then she looked back over her shoulder at Benno. Is it really over? she asked. Yes, Benno said, then thought for a moment. How much do you remember? About the two years you were here? Mara stood, dusting snow and ice from her knees, and looked at him gravely. All of it. Benno nodded. His name was Kerr. He was a I know, Mara interrupted. I know all about him Its like his thoughts were in my head. All his twisted fucking thoughts. Every little demented idea that crossed his mind came into mine. And the whole time he was making meme and Zevparade around in there, doing She looked down for a moment, then raised her head and cleared her throat. I know everything. I know about Kerr. I know about Sul. I know about the War and the other Wardens. I know about you. Benno smoothed his beard. I know that you killed another Warden, Mara went on. Someone named August. Kerr didnt think this was possible. He was scared of you. But he was also I think he was tired of being stuck here. Nearly a thousand years in this place. I think he was almost grateful that you were coming. Scared, but grateful. Do you knowdid he knowwhy I am the way I am. Why Sul did this to me? Mara thought for a moment. No. When you killed the other Warden, that was the first Kerr learned about you. Benno nodded, disappointed, then smoothed his beard. And Sul Do you know what it is? Do you know what it looks like? Mara shook her head. I think Kerr had forgotten. He was like usjust normal like usbefore. And something was happening to him. Something is happening to all the Wardens, but to him even faster. What do you mean? I dont know exactly Its like theyre falling apart. Its like theyre dying. Benno blinked out at the snow and ice, and for while neither he nor Mara spoke. Im so sorry, he said eventually. You were trying to tell me where he was. The whole time. I didnt understand. Mara nodded and looked down for a moment. But then you did, she said. A stretch of silence unfurled. I can help you get to a hospital, Benno said. Or a police station. Whatever you need. Mara crossed her arms, her fingers barely visible from the sleeve of the oversized coat. And tell them what? she asked. That a Warden of Sul kept me and my fianc trapped in a shack in the woods? That he controlled our minds and made us play out his perverse fantasies for two years? That we were rescued by a Permanent and the Lonely Son of the Scattered King? Benno shrugged. You could just tell them you were kidnapped. Mara sneered. I dont want to live through all that. The questions, the pity. Not after what Ive been through. Not after what I know. What about your family? Im sure they miss you. Its just my brother left. Hes Were not close. All I had was Zev. Friends? Mara shrugged. I moved around a lot. Benno nodded. So what do you want to do? he asked. Mara looked at Benno with an expression that left no doubt whatsoever that she meant whatever she was about to say. I want to help you kill Sul. # Benno gave Mara a room across the hallway from his, and a Gemstoke. If you have any questions, he said, standing in the hall. Ask Gemma. Mara said nothing, and closed the door. Benno wandered a ways down the hallway. He considered returning Holes to its room for a bit before he did what he had to do next. But Holes had seen it all by now. And the truth was Benno liked having the little flower with him. He brought Gemma to his lips and spoke the simple directive. The dark swallowed him, and the whir rose up, and then he was standing amidst the steam and the white tiles. From up ahead, a distant roar. It could be anything, but Benno knew it was screaming. A cacophony of horrible screaming. Pain itself. He glanced into the small tiled room where hed found the body with the mutilated crotch. Now empty. He passed through the room where hed seen the man and woman whipping and scalding their own son. He passed through room after white tiled room. All were empty. All were impeccably clean. The only sound was the screaming, which grew louder. In the room before the stairwell, he found the people gathered. There were maybe two dozen of themall nude, all gaunt and terrifiedhuddling together against the wall. The upstairs people. The ones who, for whatever reason, August had sentenced to suffer in the white rooms above, as opposed to his orgy down below. They looked at Benno as he slowed to a stop at the front of the room, their wide eyes trembling. Their skin appeared drynearly crackedfrom what Benno assumed was vicious dehydration, despite the humidity. From the room beyond, the roarscreaming indeedpitched higher. Its okay, Benno said, looking from person to person. He recognized the man whose crotch was shredded and bloodied, now intact. He recognized the man and womanthe father and motherwho had tortured their own son, who stood together, hugging one another, their eyes unfocused with fatigue and trauma. There was no sign of their son. Dead, perhaps. Or an illusion conjured by August. It didnt matter. Gemma, bottles of water. Thirty of them. Plastic water bottles rained down from thin air. Benno picked up a few and held them out, kicking a few others forward. A collective hesitation stilled the room, and then the people were grasping for the water, tearing off the caps, and drinking desperately. Relieved grunts and whines of satiation filled the tiled room, momentarily drowning out the screaming. Benno waited until most of them had finished. I can get you out of here, he said. Back to your Realms of originif you know what they are. If not, I have a place you can stay until we figure it out. Gemma, blankets. He tossed the blankets to the huddled people. Wait here, he said, starting toward the doorway to the room with the stairwell. Wait. A man, sixties, tall and lanky, stood up. You cant help them. We tried to talk to them but they attacked us. Theyre Theyre all insane. Benno paused in the doorway. I can help them, he said, continuing on. The upstairs people had barricaded the entrance to the stairwell with glass doors and tile benches. Benno read the scrawled writing over the entrance PAIN ITSELF then set about tearing down the barricade. The stench of shit and blood rushed up to meet him, and the screaming intensified. He squinted down into the dark. I want you to know, he said toward the dark doorway, that all life is valuable. But that doesnt mean that all life is salvageable. The hair on the back of his head was perfectly still. What Im about to do, he went on, brings me no joy. But sometimes there is no easy solution to a problem. Sometimes the best option is still hard. Its important to know this. He pulled his fathers Smith & Wesson revolver from the waistband of his pants and fingered the surplus of rounds in his pocket. These are things my father never taught me. I promise I will do better. He descended the stairs. # Onus wasnt thrilled. I closed my eyes for three hours, he said, standing at the end of a hallway with Benno watching the new residents file into their rooms. And when I wake up, there are thirty strangers living here. Sixteen, Benno corrected. Including Mara. Onus huffed and rubbed his face. Edda would be so displeased. Benno looked up at the Lonely Son. Is that supposed to vex me? One by one, the doors to the rooms closed behind their new occupants, until the hallway was quiet. Well I suppose it will matter little very soon. Onus turned and started away, and Benno walked with him. We should leave for Albeddon in the morning. And whether we fail or succeed there, its unlikely either of us return. Benno fingered the length of his beard. Have you noticed, he asked, that no ones come for us? Onus took long strides. Benno kept up. The Everson Family, the Twinsno one. And they know where we are. I mean they knew seven years ago, so why wouldnt they now? But here we are, and no ones showed up. Perhaps theyre waiting for us to come to them, Onus said, turning down another hallway. Or perhaps they are afraid of you. Perhaps they have not figured out how to deal with a Warden-killing Permanent. After all, its not exactly obvious. Onus statementand the sneer in his voicegave Benno pause. He continued alongside the Lonely Son in silence until they reached Eddas roomnow Onus, for all intents and purposesat which point Onus entered, leaving Benno alone. Its not exactly obvious. # Benno found Mara on the the beach near the gravesnow eight of them, including Zevsand looking out at the water. There are dolphins sometimes, he said, standing next to her. Or things that look like dolphins. She glanced at him, a strand of her hair caught in the crook of her mouth, and smiled faintly. Then she turned back to the water, and for a long moment the only sound was the breaking of the waves. This is where we should have gone in the first place, she said finally. Me and Zev. We should have gone to a beach like this. Its what he wanted. You cant blame yourself, Benno said. What happened is no ones fault but Kerrs. Mara hugged herself, the sleeves of her oversized coat concealing her hands. And Suls, she said. Benno nodded. Mara hung her head. Zev was so worried about money, she said. He had a bad couple years. Day trading. I told him it would all come back, thats just how the market worked. But I think he felt defeated. I think he was embarrassed. He wanted to provide for me, even though I made more than him. Stupid old fashioned machismo. I offered to pay for a nicer rental, but he wouldnt have it. Thats why we ended up at that cheap fucking place She looked back up at the water. He meant well. What did you do? Benno asked. For work? Corporate law. Mara shrugged. Got hired by a big firm right out of law school. I wanted to do environmental law. Litigation. Im nasty in front of a judge. But you take what you can get. Sure, Benno said. The waves lapped softly. I had a dream once, Mara said, wistfully. That I was lost at sea. I was on a raft, drifting alone through the waves, without any land in sight. The sun was always overhead, never moving. My skin blistered. I was so thirsty. I knew I was going to die. She shrugged. I had that dream when I was still just a child. But Ive never forgotten it. Ive never forgotten the feeling of the hot sun, the pain, the rocking of the waves. The smell of the salt. The despair. Its like it really happened to me. Sometimes, even now, I wonder if that is real, if Im really out there, and my whole life, everything else, is the dream. Or a thought before death. Benno looked from Mara out at the water, dappled with late day sun. Mara turned to him. What can I do? she asked. To help you kill Sul. Thats not the plan anymore, Benno said, then glanced at the Inns solitary door, which cast a long shadow across the sand. But you can still help. He gestured for her to follow him, and together they walked down the beach, away from the Inn. [Part V - Into the Woods] Chapter 38 - Suicide Collector Alex had done everything he could. No one could accuse him of not doing everything he could. Hed seen shrinks, talked to friends, talked to family, talked to himself. Hed taken a comprehensive regiment of antidepressants, tried CBT and yoga and finger painting. Hed undergone electroshock therapywhich accomplished nothing but to erase his memory of the electroshock therapyand hypnosis. Hed even admittedalbeit to a stranger in a barthat he was having suicidal thoughts. Hed done everything he could to avoid ending up here, standing outside the railing of the Jeston Bridge, his hands freezing to the icy handrail, leaning out over the gash of white water surging a hundred and thirty feet below through a narrow ford of the Wallkill River. Alex was here. And no one could accuse him of not doing everything he could. Hed pictured this so many times. Standing on the edge. Looking down. Sometimes the view was different. Sometimes there was a ravine, dry and steep with packed dirt and gangly roots. Other times there was concrete, and throngs of people, and the distant cacophony of traffic. Once, hed pictured an endless gray sea, crinkled like a salvaged sheet of tinfoil, the white eye of the sun bared back in its surface. Of course that last one didnt really exist as an option, unless hed found an oil platform to jump from. No, it was a fantasy, just like, it turned out, all of Alexs other hopes and aspirations. The truth was a surge of white water, black rocks, snowy woods. It didnt matter what was down there anyway, just so long as it was hard enough to stop him when he landed. Hed done everything he could. Hed left a note, tied up loose ends, said his goodbyes as best he could without disclosing his intentions. Hed even made his bed this morning. He didnt know why, but he knew it felt like the right thing to do. Hed left the thermostat at 68 to keep the pipes from freezing, and made sure every light in the house was turned off except for the lamp near the downstairs window, to deter break-ins. He didnt know how long it would take people to notice he was gone. He hoped only a day or two. But it didnt matter. Everything that came after was outside of his concern. That was the point, right? He adjusted his hands on the railing and glanced back. His car was there on the bridges shoulder. Hed seen no other traffic since he got here. It was a familiar feeling. Wherever Alex went, other people seemed to steer clear. Even here on the Jeston Bridgethe major thruway from Eastriver to Westriver Wallkillon a wintry Saturday afternoon, other people were nowhere to be seen. It was time. And the truth, which surprised him, was that he wasnt afraid. What was there to be afraid of? The worst was behind him. He was finally taking steps to rescue himself. He was finally doing something importanteven if that importance extended only as far as tending to his own wellbeing. Maybe wellbeing wasnt the right word. Maybe it was more appropriate to use a word like comfort or relief. Resignation sprang to mind, and he smiled then in the cold, overcast day, amused by the absurdity of engaging in a semantic debate with himself at this late hour. And, content in that amusement, recognizing it would never be more pleasant than it was right then, he let go of the railing and leaned forward, and fell. He was proud of himself, as the freezing air whipped around him, for following through on something. His deepest fear, among countless shallower ones, was that he would fail even to commit to his own suicide. The consequences of such a failure as that would be unimaginable. He had never read No Exit, and was not familiar with its plot, but he thought about it often, and imagined, given its title, that maybe it dealt with such an unimaginable premise. But it didnt matter. He had done it. He was falling, faster and faster, toward the black rocks and frigid water of the Wallkill River. It would stop him. It would do exactly what he wanted it to do. He was proud of himself. He had made the world work in his favor for once. But there was a problem. He was falling feet-first. Hed heard horror stories about people leaping from great heights and landing feet-first and shattering their legs and spines but ultimately surviving. In his case, he would likely lie there in the icy water, paralyzed, consumed with pain, and freeze to death over long hours or days. He was halfway downmore than halfwayand no matter how he twisted or leaned, he could not reposition himself any other way. The white water hurled toward him. The air screamed in his ears. He was going to land feet-first. He would keep his legs as limp as possible, so they would give way for his body to take the brunt of the impact. He had a twitchy, panicked thought about the irony of struggling against the worlds conditions all the way into the final moment of his life, but it was interrupted when he met the riverbed. There was an explosive instant of pain so severe it may have been nothing at all. But he passed through thatpassed through the frozen rocks as if through the surface of a bathtuband the dark blur of the water consumed him, and then changed, seemed to expand or to shrink into millions of separate parts, particles whizzing around him, clicking and bouncing together, and he felt himself slow, and slow further, until he was floating gently among colorless triangles that ballooned into even more triangles, whirring quietly, and he landed softly on his butt atop a warm, wide surface. He blinkedor maybe he didnt blink, but only thought about blinking. There was something large to his right, and as he turned toward it he felt an enormous hand caress the top of his head. Hello, Alex, said a deep, soothing voice above him. Alex peered upward. A mouth smiled down at him from high overhead, filled with huge gray teeth. A mouth, floating there, four times bigger than Alexs whole body. The skin hung down off of it in tatters, and the black jaw bones joints protruded from its top, smeared with blood. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. There was a nose, too, and cheeks, and ears, and eyesorange eyesall the components of a whole facebut like the mouth, they were disjointed, separate from one another, like the old anatomy illustrations from pre-industrial text books. Every part broken free. The same was true of the rest of the body. The black ribs each were suspended, draped with sinew. The lungs pulsed along with the other organs. There was a heart, beating slowly, its arteries pulsing, its musculature contracting and expanding. Intestines dangled like a tie coiled on a doorknob. Skin surrounded it all is ablated sections, as if cut with a dull knife. Alex looked behind himself, where hed felt a hand caress him, and sure enough, an enormous gray hand floated there, its fingers the length of Alexs body. Its black wrist bones, jagged, stuck out from the back of it, marrow bubbling like worms. Then there was the arm itself, a thick length of gray, separate from the shoulder. Beneath Alex was a leg. A huge leg as big as a bus which, like the jaw and hand, ended in jagged black bones extending beyond the flesh, both at the hip and below, where the foot rested on the gray floor, alone. And then there was the penis. It was huge and erect, extending over Alexs head like an awning and partially obscuring the scattered face. The parts of a huge man. Each one accounted for. And though it was like nothing Alex had ever seen, and should have been grisly to look upon, Alex was not afraid. Hi, Alex said, sitting on the legs thigh. Horus, said the mouth, smiling down, and the eyes smiled behind it. My name is Horus. Horus, Alex smiled, nestling his head against the big hand that stroked his hair. He felt, for the first time in his life, safe. Its good to see you, Horus said. Youve gotten so tall. Alex kicked his legs gently as they dangled from Horus thigh. Yeah, he said. Im nearly six feet. Yes you are! Horus hand paused on the nape of Alexs neck and he laughed a deep, boisterous, joyful laugh. Someday perhaps youll be as tall as me! Alex blushed. I dont think Ill ever be that tall, he said. Horus smiled. Perhaps not. Around them, translucent triangles floated through the gray air like pollen. There was no temperature. There was no sound other than their voices. I am sorry we cannot spend more time together, Horus said then, his smile darkening. Alexs chest tightened. Why cant we? Because thats not how this works. Alex pouted. But I want to be with you. Horus huge finger lifted Alexs chin gently. It is okay, he said, smiling down from his floating mouth. Do not be sad. You are here for a reason. An important reason. And meanwhile, I know everyone is excited to meet you. Everyone? Alex asked, blinking away tears. Yes! Horus hand gestured outward. Alex looked up. There were people, thousands of themmaybe millionsas far as he could see, standing in rows, all with their backs turned. They were dressed in the widest assortment of clothes, and their shapes and sizes and hair colors ran the entire spectrum of human features. At some great distance, in the direction they faced, was an enormous gray pyramid, which stretched up into the nondescript sky. Who are they? Alex asked, clinging to Horus finger. Theyre your big brothers and sisters, Horus said. They are just like you. They all took control of their lives, just like you did. Alex looked out at the pyramid. What are they looking at? he asked. Why dont you go find out? Horus stroked Alexs head a final time, then patted him on the back. Alex didnt move. Im scared, he said. Horus laughed his boisterous laugh. There is nothing to be scared of, he said. They are your family. They will be so happy to be with you. But what if they dont like me? My child. Horus slid his enormous hand under Alexs arm, lifted him from his thigh, and placed him on the smooth gray floor. What could there possibly be not to like? Alex swallowed and stepped toward the people. He glanced back at Horus, whose disunited face grinned with pride. My brothers and sisters, Alex thought. He didnt know he had this many brothers and sisters. He knew of one sister... though as he tried to recall her he found her face obscured in his memory. He saw only the backs of a million heads. Then these must be my real brothers and sister, he thought. I must have imagined that other one. He approached the back row. Im Alex, he said to the backs of the heads. None of them moved. Maybe I spoke too quietly, he thought. My mouth is dry, and sometimes I speak too quietly when my mouth is dry. He cleared his throat. Hi, he said. Im Alex. Nothing moved. Alex stepped around the sibling in front of him. Im Al he started. The back of a head. He turned to another. And another. The backs of heads. He walked completely around one, leaned this way and that way. The backs of heads, from every angle. Why wont they look at me? Alex thought, his breath quickening. This wasnt right. How could he get to know his brothers and sisters if he could not see their faces? If they had no faces? Horus would never have sent him into the midst of such a place deliberately. There must have been some kind of mistake. He looked back toward Horus, for direction, or just to take in his gentle smile. But where Horus had been there were now only more rows of brothers and sisters, all facing the pyramid, which was always in the distance. Alex turned in a circle. The backs of heads. His brothers and sisters. The pyramid. As far as he could see. Something was wrong. Horus? He called. HORUS?!?! the sea of brothers and sisters wailed from mouths Alex couldnt see. Horus?! Alex yelled, tears welling in his eyes and terror rising in his throat. HORUS?!?!?! the brothers and sisters echoed in deafening unison. Horus!? HORUS!?!? I want to go home! Alex covered his eyes, then uncovered them. The backs of heads going forever in all directions. The pyramid on the horizon. Alex was as alone as he had ever been. He had done everything he could. He looked around for something to jump from, but there was nothing. Horus lap had been the highest point here, and now it was gone. Horus was gone. And Alex had gone as far as he could. It started to rain then. Big, red droplets. All at once, the brothers and sisters turned their hidden faces up to the white sky, revealing the tops of a million heads. Alex looked up with them. The drops spattered on his face. He was thirsty. His mouth was dry. He opened his mouth to catch some liquid. It was warm and ferric. But it soothed his dry throat. Maybe if I drink enough, I can talk louder, and theyll hear me, he thought. The liquid pooled in his mouth. He drank and drank. [Part VI - The Gray Wastes] Chapter 39 - Old Family Money Benno watched Onus as the Lonely Son hunched over the Shenandoahs console. Its not exactly obvious, hed said. How to deal with a Warden-killing Permanent was not exactly obvious. How to deal with Benno was not exactly obvious. Were ready, Onus said, straightening up and turning around. Then he frowned at Benno. Why are you wearing that? Benno looked down at his yellow raincoat. I like it, he said. Onus shrugged his blue eyebrows. Fair enough. He touched his pocket, in which he kept the Tefached, then took a deep breath. I dont know what to expect in Albeddon. I didnt know what to expect in Kerrs Realm, but at least I was pretty certain Kerr would be our only foe there. Its possible, where were going, that we will be dealing not only with the Chieftain, but with the Twins as well. And who knows what else. Benno nodded. Im ready. And like Kerr, Onus went on, they know we are coming. Benno nodded again. Onus stood for a moment, as if figuring out how to say the next part. Its not exactly obvious. Then, having said nothing, he turned back to the console and touched the screen. # At first, Benno thought they were mountains. They towered over the expanse of flat, cracked earth below the Shenandoah. They were red, like the red sky, which seethed like a wound, and strangely atilt, as if they might topple at any moment. Though they were too far away to say for surefar toward the horizonit appeared that they were running with rivulets of dark liquid, like so many veins. And what Benno thought was black smoke whipping around the mountains peaks, he discerned, as Onus guided the Shenandoah down to the ground, and Bennos eyes adjusted to Albeddons harsh red glare, were in fact crows. Swarms of crows, darting and landing and feasting. They were not mountains. At least, they were not mountains made of rock. Onus stepped away from the console and surveyed the landscape. I cant believe it, he said, quietly. It used to be so beautiful here. There used to be forests. Cities. He blinked out at the ranges of bodiesmillion, perhaps billionspiled into the sky. What have they done Even through the Shenandoahs presumably airtight exterior, Benno could already smell the iron. This is Luridias legacy, Onus said, his eyes dark. Continents of death. This is what Edda and I wanted to stop. Benno touched Onus arm. Theres someone there, he said, nodding out. Onus followed his gaze, and together they peered at the figure standing across the flat expanse, maybe a hundred yards from the Shenandoah, a dark shape amid the red wasteland. Something fluttered behind them in the wind, either a cape or locks of long black hair. Neoline, Onus said, grave. The Chieftain. Benno nodded. Lets go talk to her. There will be no talking, Onus said. Well see, said Benno, raising Gemma to his lips. Let us out, he said, then led Onus across the plain. # Mara was reminded of a documentary shed watched a long time ago. It was about a drug kingpin in Colombia, who had built himself a palace on top of a hill in the middle of a slum. The palace was, naturally, grandiose, with many stories, a swimming pool, a tennis courteven a zoo, in which he kept exotic and dangerous animals. And the whole thing was surrounded by a twenty-foot high wall draped with barbed wire. Outside the wall, the slum sprawled, a stark contrast to the opulence of the palace: Shacks and huts, raw sewage, stray dogs, a portrait of abject poverty. The documentary explained the kingpins reason for doing this as a method to tap cheapif not freelabor from the impoverished population, as well as to buffer himself from law enforcement, since the police were loathe to enter the slum. The Fenix Estate was very similar, though on a far grander scale. She stood just inside the walldraped not with barbed wire but lined instead with vicious-looking finialsat the mouth of a long, manicured driveway that wound up through lush pastures in the direction of the house, which rambled with countless ells and wings, adorned with statues and fountains, all beneath a big, pristine sky. Off to the side, within a fenced-in section of pasture, a pair of animalssomething between a horse and a doggalloped, then paused to nibble some grass, then galloped again. There was a collection of low trees, an orchard perhaps, on the houses other side. A family of birds paddled across a small pond. But behind her, just beyond the wallsthe entrance of which stood open, a sign, she took, of arrogance rather than invitationa hovel sprawled as far as she could see. Thousands or tens of thousands of shacks, all stained various shades of brown, built along narrow, trash-strewn sidewalks. There were clotheslines strung between the shacks on which clothes hung in the windless air. The few people she could see from her vantage appeared emaciated, shambling along the sidewalks toeing at garbage in search of something with value, or leaning against the sheetmetal exteriors of their homes, looking back at her from tired eyes. Mara had never seen such disparity. Looking between the slum and the estate, it was almost as if two disparate places, from two separate Realms, had been thrust side-by-side as some kind of cruel joke. She started up the driveway, clutching the Gemstoke in her fist, which was concealed by the over-long sleeve of her coat. As she neared the house, a man emerged from the ornate entrance. He appeared fifty, with a litter of gray stubble that climbed high up his cheeks and extended far down his neck. He wore a hat similar to a bowler, except with a much wider rim, and as he approached Mara, he walked with the exaggerated mosey of a cowboy. Afternoon, maam, he said when he was twenty feet away, tipping his hat and eyeing Mara from below his thick gray eyebrows, satisfied, it seemed, that she had not crawled out of the slum. Mara nodded at him. Hello, she said. Beautiful day. The man gestured the to pastures. Mara held her Gemstoke tightly. Im looking for Ann-Copse Fenix, she said. The man frowned. Thats my grandmother. But shes been dead for centuries. He frowned deeper. Did you know her? Mara shook her head. Im here on behalf of Benno Haim. The Warden Killer. The mans frown dissolved into a bewildered stare. Sorry. Who? You havent heard about any of that? Mara asked. The Wardens of Sul being killed? The man shrugged and grinned, a bit embarrassed, it seemed. We dont get a lot of news out here in Ayora. Not about stuff happening in other Realms. And Wardens of Sul dont concern us much. At least not beyond academic musings. He scratched his chin. Though thats something, isnt it? Someone killing Wardens? Mara nodded slowly. It is. She looked out at the soft blue sky settled over the trees and the pastures, then down at the smoggy sea of slanted shacks and dirty streets. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. And you have something to do with that? the man asked, one eyebrow raised. Mara turned back to him. Hm? These Wardens being killed? No. Well, yes. The man nodded, then shrugged. Well Im not a Warden of Sul, so He held up his palms as if to say, Dont shoot. Mara chuckled politely. So is there something I can help you with? the man asked. I was told that your grandmother bred Dream Prowlers. Yes, maam. I need some information about them. Well what would you like to know? If youre looking to purchase one, I have a new litter coming in a couple months. Unless you dont mind an adolescent. Its not true what they say, even the adolescents are very agreeable. They just need a little more patience. But if you have your heart set on a newborn, youll have to wait. No, nothing like that. Mara racked her brain for all of the questions Benno had given her to ask, and then settled on simplifying them. I need to know how they work. The man nodded. Alright. I mean, in what way? I need to know how they see what they see. Or how they gain access to the people whose dreams they watch. For example, if I wanted my Dream Prowler to watch the dreams of somebody who was in another Realm, but I didnt know which Realm, how would I go about Tell you what, the man said, scratching his chin again. My grandmother wrote a book about them. No one was really interested in it, I dont think, but she had enough knowledge that she didnt know what else to do with it all. We still have some copies inside, Im happy to give you one. Itll explain what you want to know better than I ever could. He gestured back toward the house. If youd like to come in, Ill dig one out of the study for you. Mara looked up at the house, where a tendril of gray smoke rose lazily from one of the many chimneys, and despite the warm air, a frigid shiver passed down her back. Or you could wait here, the man said, shrinking under an expression on Maras face she hadnt realized she was making. And Ill go fetch it presently. Thank you, Mara said. The man tipped his hat, then turned and hurried back to the house. Mara looked back out at the pastures, where the pair of horse-dogs galloped. This was the easy part. Benno had warned her of that. It was the next part that would be hard Where she had to go next was dangerous. Though it could not possibly be worse than where shed been for the last two years, lost in that house, lost in her own mind and in Kerrs mind, lurching through those dark, low rooms with Zev, together in their demented anguish, and yet completely alone. The man returned shortly with a thin book bound in hard leather, and handed it to Mara. She read its title: Breeding and Operating Dream Prowlers; thoughts from a hobbyist by Ann-Copse Fenix, then slid it into her coat pocket. Thank you for this, Mara said. Most welcome, the man tipped his hat again. Anything else I can help you with before youre on your way? Mara glanced back at the slum. What is it your family does? she asked. The man frowned. What do you mean? I mean What is your business? How do you afford all this land? The man shrugged. Old family money, he said. From what? The mans gray eyebrows bent low over his eyes. To tell you the truth, he said, I never really thought ask. # The hard ground scrrrched under their feet as Benno led Onus across the plain. A ubiquitous low rumble rolled down from the mountains of bodies, like ceaseless thunder, and Benno realized, with a heavy, sickening despair, that it was the amalgamation of a million frenzied crows, and the drone of a trillion frantic flies. Neoline grew taller as they neared. Or appeared to. She was easily as tall as Onus, and clad in dark metal armor covered with countless nicks and dents. Her capeit was a cape after alldanced in the hot wind, twice the length of her body. She wore a mask that totally concealed her face, adorned with rows of metal teeth like an angler fish, with no obvious eye holes or other apertures. In one hand, she held what appeared to be some combination of a sword and a revolver, the long blade protruding from a hilt with two enormous muzzles, one against either edge, and a huge cylinder below the hand-guard that might house rounds a wide as Bennos arm. She was the definition of fearsome. And this was furtheredor exacerbatedby the two colossal Bababaksums that floated beside her, one on either side. Each one was three times as big as the one Edda and her crew had captured in Middleforest. Their tails twitched in sync with Neolines cape. Their empty eyes stared, it seemed, directly at Benno. Onus slowed to a stop twenty yards away. Benno continued forward another ten yards, then stopped as well, and for a long timea minute or morethere was only the thundering drone of the crows and the flies. You look so soft, the Chieftain Neoline said then, her deep voice booming out from behind her mask and rolling across the plain. Though after awhile, everything starts to look soft. I should know better than to trust my eyes. But I still fall prey to that deception. It is our nature, I think. As the living. Bennos raincoat fluttered along his body. The Chieftain turned her head to look off at the rotting mountains, and her armor clinked. For them, though? There is no deception left for them. They see things as they truly are. They see what is real. We see visions. Illusions. But the dead They see only truth. Infinite, impeccable truth. They know the answer to every question. They are, in all ways that matter, gods. She turned back to Benno. Wouldnt you say? Benno shook his head. I wouldnt know. The Chieftains shoulders rose and fell, as if she was laughing, though she made no sound. I remember the first person I killed, she said once shed stilled. I was just a child. So many thousands of years ago, and yet as clear in my mind as you are before me. I cut a mans head off. After he attacked my mother. I intended only to slit his throat, but once Id started, once the first hot fingers of blood caressed my skin, I could not stop. I knew then, before I knew much of anything, that I would kill again. I knew it was the purpose of my life. I grew up in a poor region in a poor Realm. There were wars thereskirmishes, really, ancient ethnic conflictsand I cut my teeth young. I did not fight for any side. I fought for myself. For the practice. For the pleasure. I learned to adore the fleeting moments of others pain. The small parts of the bitter pain. The sounds that men make when death fills their eyes. The ways their mouths trace impossible words, and their fingers curl as if around something that only they can feel. The terror. The evacuation of bowls. The pleading. The calling out, of the fiercest warriors, in their final moments, for their mothers. And the smells The smell of rent flesh. The smell of burning flesh. The smell of rotting flesh Again her shoulders rose and fell. I never could have imagined that this would be my fate She gestured out at the wasteland with her free hand. It was more than I deserved. I have been so lucky. The smoke of crows whipped along the mountains ridges. And now it is over. Neolines mask tilted toward Benno. I will not engage you in combat. Benno felt Onus eyes on him, but kept his own eyes forward. Sul has chosen you over us, she continued. This is humiliation enough. And I will not suffer additional humiliation in defeat. So strike me down, and do it with the magnificent violence I am owed. She lifted her weapon out toward the mountains. The Bababaksums seemed to glance at Neoline, then at each other. Benno took a step forward. You can spare yourself, he said, knowing she could not. It is Sul I seek. Lead me to the Gray Wastes, and our business will be finished. I cannot reach the Wastes with any greater ease than anyone else, Neoline said. Sul has abandoned us. She lifted her sword up, and then trust it down into the hard earth, where it stuck fast. Sul will abandon you, too. The Twins, said Onus then, stepping up beside Benno. Are they here? Neolines dark armor reflected the red sky like smoldering fire. No, she said. They had other business to attend to. Business more important than facing the Warden Killer? Onus voice dripped with incredulousness and irritation. They are in hiding! They are cowards! I do not speak for them, Neoline said, turning her masked face from Onus back toward Benno. Now do what you came here for. It has been a thousand years. My accomplishments have been glorious. My crusades have been documented in the stomachs of the crows and flies. In this way, I will live for eternity. And in death I will know truth. Now let my true reign begin. The hot, ferric air scraped along the hard ground. Onus looked over at Benno and shrugged. What are you waiting for? Benno ran his fingers through his beard and looked up at the Chieftain. You said that Sul abandoned you. What did you mean? Neoline was silent for a long moment. After the War, Sul rewarded us with Permanence. Then we were cast forth, to our Realms and our enterprises. We thought we were his apostles. We thought he would speak through us. But once we were positioned, we never heard from him again. That was over a thousand years ago. Neither I nor the other Wardens have had any contact with Sul since the War ended. Benno frowned deeply. You called Sul he. Neoline nodded. Yes. He. Sul is a boy. A man? No. A boy. Bennos eyes searched the cracked ground, thoughts hemorrhaging through his mind. Benno, Onus hissed. Benno looked over. Get on with it. Sul is a boy. Benno ran his fingers through his beard, shook away his thoughts, and started forward. Neoline stood her ground. Her Bababaksums snouts darted anxiously, though they, too, made no effort to flee. Benno cleared his throat as he stopped an arms-length from the Chieftain. Do you know, he started, his raincoat dancing along with Neolines cape. Why Sul was watching my son? Do you know why he made me this way? Neolines dark mask angled down toward Benno. You do not ask the dog why its master reads poetry. Benno nodded slowly, as if this answer was sufficientand perhaps it was. Then he looked up at the Bababaksums. Do you two want to leave? They are my holdings, Neoline answered. They go where I go. The Bababaksums glanced, again, at one another. Benno shrugged. Ill ask them again in a minute, he said, and then reached up and took hold of the Chieftains armor, which folded like fabric in his impossible grip, and he pulled her down toward him, and though she did her best to maintain her pride, and to not fight back, her body quickly undertook its own panicked rebellion. But this made no difference to Benno. [Part VI - The Gray Wastes] Chapter 40 - You are so dangerous When he was done, he wiped his hands on his raincoat and looked up at the small specks of the Bababaksums, who had swam up into the red sky while Benno tore Neoline to shreds and now pulsed like two jellyfish, side by side, until all at once they disappeared. Benno prodded at the shredded armor with his toe. Then he reached up and felt along the top of his head, touching the point of the first pyramid, then the second, and now the third. The third protruded more or less from the exact top of his head. Im growing a mohawk, he thought. A mohawk of dead Wardens. He wondered if when he killed the Twins, one or two pyramids would appear, and decided to ask Onus his opinion. What do you think, he started, turning around. When the Twins are dead, will there be one, or He trailed off. Onus stared at him with his mouth parted, his eyes bent with fear, his hands clasped at his chest. He took deep, slow breaths, as if to stave off an attack of dread. What? Benno asked, glancing around. Onus lips moved, though at first no sound emerged. Then, finally, his words issued forth. The ease he said, blinking slowly. The ease with which you tore her to shreds. A Warden of Sul. An immovable object, for a thousand years He wiped his eyes. I hadnt seen it yet. I wasnt there when you killed August. Or Kerr. I didnt understand. Benno took his own slow breath. You are so dangerous, Onus whispered. Its not exactly obvious. I dont know what to say. Benno wiped his hands, again, on his raincoat. I didnt ask for this. You know that. Onus nodded, though it was as if at something else. Benno watched him carefully. I dont know what to say, he repeated. Onus nodded again, and then straightened up and rubbed his face, and afterwards he appeared more or less composed. It was just a shock, he said, even managing to force a smile. Its all for the best. Now come on. Were almost done. He turned and started back to the Shenandoah. Benno followed him. Do it now, he thought, within arms reach of the Lonely Son. Do it now and get it over with. But Benno couldnt. There was still hope for Onus. Benno wanted him to work through his doubts, to work through his traumas and arrive at a better version of himself. A version of himself that could lead in the image he and Edda had planned. He wanted Onus to rise into his potential. Though he knew it was too late. And it was only a matter of time. As they boarded the vessel, Onus stumbled slightly, reaching out for Benno, who caught him and helped him back to his feet. Are you alright? Benno asked. Yes. Onus patted Benno on the back. Just still a little lightheaded from the cake. He continued onboard and positioned himself at the console. Benno ran his fingers down the length of his beard. # Do it now. Get it over with. Lets return to the Inn, Benno said, finally, as Onus traced shapes on the consoles screen. Through the transparent walls of the Shenandoah, the red sky over Albeddon had begun to darken, and crows had descended on the Chieftains ragged remains. Well regroup. Theres no rush. Onus, his back to Benno, did not respond or turn around. Do it now. Youre still weak from the poison, Benno continued. You need to rest. Get it over with. Onus turned then, and nodded. I think youre right, he said, then turned back to the console and continued tapping shapes. Benno nodded, an uneasy weight in his stomach. Onus stood back for a second and checked his work on the screen. So, back to the Inn, then? Benno asked. Yes. Onus tapped the screen a few more time. Yes, back to the Inn. Good. Benno watched Onus back. Alright. Onus took a slow breath. Off we go. He tapped a triangle at the screens lower right corner, and the whirring started, and a moment later the bridge went dark. Do it now, Benno thought in the moment before the bridges purple lights reappeared, casting dark shadows across the marble floor. Get it over For a moment Benno didnt realize what was wrong, and started to stand, casually, as if to disembark. But then he noticed the total darkness of the Shenandoahs walls, and the disorienting sense of weightlessness beneath his feet. What happened? he asked, turning in a slow circle, peering at the black walls. Did you get the Realm wrong? But Onus was not at the console. Instead, he stood at the mouth of the hallway. He looked at Benno, his face awash in purple light, and held both hands near his mouth. Benno looked at him for a moment. What are you doing? he asked. Onus did not respond. Onus, Benno said. Why are we stopped in the Lacuna? This is the only way, Onus said, his voice withdrawn. Your existence is my salvation. And your defeat is my ticket back into the good graces of the Nation. Benno took a step toward Onus, and Onus stumbled back, his hands still raised to his mouth. There were two glints of light at his fingertips. One in each hand. Two Gemstokes. Benno jammed his hands into his pockets, finding nothing. He glowered at Onus. Do it now. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Benno lunged. Gemma! Luridia! Onus rattled off, his voice spiked with terror, and then, before Benno could reach him, he was gone. Benno stood on the empty bridge. He felt through his pockets again, but they were, of course, empty. Benno went to the console and touched the screen. Nothing happened. He touched it again, and waved his hands in front of it. But Onus had done something. Hed broken it, or rewired it. It was as dark and inert as the walls of the vessel, looking out at the infinite, empty expanse of the fabric between Realms. You will end up suspended out there in the nothingness, Eddas voice played in his mind. For you, in particular, I imagine, that would be an unfortunate fate. Benno sat down at the table. Its not exactly obvious, Onus had said. Benno had known something was coming. He had known ever since Mother revealed to Onus that it was Bennos fault his sister was dead. Whatever goodwill had existed between Benno and Onus had died at that moment, and never return. But Benno had assumed Onus would wait, at least, until the remaining Wardens were dead. But he was wrong. And now, in an instant, it had all been for nothing. Should have done it then, he thought. Should have gotten it over with. He thought about Mara. The ones hed saved from the Bathhouse. The Haruspex. Even Christopher Ryan. All doomed. He thought about himself. Its not exactly obvious. I guess you figured it out, Benno said to the empty bridge, his heart beating fast, his body still. I guess you figured it out. Holes poked his petals out of Bennos collar. Everything okay? it asked. Benno set the little flower on the table. Yeah, he said, and at the same moment he realized there was no access to water on the disabled vessel, and he stroked Holes softly, and nodded. Everythings fine. # The sky was a wash of pink and blue, a smeared mockery of the perpetual autumn canopy below. Mara approached the mansions front steps, her shoes scrrrching on the brittle grass. The pink neon light filled the top quadrant of her vision like bright, rushing rain. Her hands were balled into fists, and she took slow, trembling breaths. Do not be afraid, Benno had told her. Tell them who you are. Tell them why youre there. Do not be afraid, Mara whispered to herself. Then she stopped at the bottom of the steps as three figures emerged from the mansions doorway. Easy for you to say The three figures looked down at her from the mansions entrance. They were all dressed in black, their ashen skin blinking with the smoldering pink light. One of them, a hairless man with an enormous septum ring and a bag in his hand filled with reddish liquid, stepped forward and peered down from his dark eyes, waiting. Mara took a deep breath. Sad longs, she projected, hoping she was remembering the phrase Benno had told her to say. The hairless man and the other figures did not respond or react. My name is Mara Greenwald, she went on. I am here on behalf of The Warden Killer, the hairless man finished, his voice like dry leaves. Yes, said Mara as a shiver ran through her, either from the mans voice or the cold wind that rushed out from the trees. He sent me here with terms. A generous offer. The hairless mans shoulders rose and fell. This is a sad miscalculation, he said. The Warden Killer and the Lonely Son murdered our Mother. They pilfered our property. They fractured our relationship with Luridia. They have caused a cascade of unspeakable misfortune for us. We have no interest in terms with them. In fact, our interest is in punishing them. The man licked the bottom of his septum ring. Perhaps you can help with that. Do not be afraid. The Warden Killer is offering you a gift, she said. A a sad peace offering. For your collection. He is also offering you your survival. The hairless man was quiet. As we speak, Mara went on, the Warden Killer is eradicating the remainder of Suls Wardens. The Chieftain is likely already dead. The Twins will be next. A pair of dark birds tussled overhead and disappeared among the canopy. And with the Twins deaths, Mara said. Luridia will fall. The hairless man hefted his baga colostomy bag, Mara realized, with a wave of nauseafrom one hand to the other. Luridia has never fallen, he said. Not since the first sad notes of the bottomless Ensemble sang to life with flame. If the Eyes of Horus are ousted, the Lonely Son will inherit the Nation. Or some other member of the lineage. This has been the way forever. Mara took a step forward, so that one foot was now planted on the bottom step. But things are about to change, she said. It is the Warden Killers opinionand here I am sure you will agreethat the lineage has gone on long enough. And the Lonely Son, despite his talents, has no real interest in ruling. He wants only revenge, and revenge comes and goes. The wind whipped Maras hair across her face. With the Twins death, she said. Luridia will fall. Again the hairless man licked his septum ring. The tall, pale figures behind him glanced at one another. Why are you telling us this? the man asked. There will be chaos across the Ensemble in the vacuum of Luridias dominion, she said. You will have a role in maintaining order. With the Warden Killers permission, the Everson Family can inherit a portion of the Nations assets. It can help establish a new course for the Realms and their inhabitants. With certain sad conditions, of course. The hairless man turned his head and whispered something to the pale woman behind him, who nodded. Then he looked back at Mara. What if Sul frees Horus? he asked. What if Horus returns? Then Benthen the Warden Killer will deal with him, too. The hairless man looked down at Mara, and for a long time there was only the scrape of the leaves in the wind. What are these sad conditions? he asked finally. We will get to those, Mara said, her lungs flooding with relief. But first, the Warden Killer has a gift for you. To show his goodwill at your new sad arrangement. The hairless man nodded. Mara glanced around at the empty lawn. Um Im just going to need you all to close your eyes. The hairless man tilted his head. What? Just for a minute. Just, go ahead and close your eyes. Is this some kind of attempt at a sad trick? No, Mara outspread her hands. Trust me, if the Warden Killer wanted you hurt, or dead, hed be here himself. The hairless man glanced back at the figures behind him, and together they conferred in whispers, then shrugged in unison. Alright, the hairless man said. Great, thanks. Slowly, one at a time, the Eversons closed their dark, shaded eyes. Mara brought her Gemstoke to her lips. Uh, are you there? Silence. Right. Okay. Im closing my eyes now, too. So, whenever youre ready, you can show up. She lowered the Gemstoke, glanced up the steps, then closed her own eyes, for just a moment, and when she opened them again, there was someone standing next to her. She exhaled. Wasnt sure that was going to work, she said. Ddoak Michol stared, unmoving, from their swollen eyes. Okay! Mara called up the steps. You can look now. The Eversons opened their eyes slowly and blinked in the gloom. When they saw Ddoak their dark eyes widened, and the hairless man descended the steps toward them, slowly. Is that he said. An Outlooker? Their name is Ddoak Michol, Mara said. They were a member Eddas crew, and now have sworn their allegiance to the Warden Killer. Mara stepped aside as the hairless man arrived at the bottom of the steps and inspected Ddoak with wide eyes. Incredible the hairless man peered closely at Ddoaks eyes. I have never seen one in person. I had heard they were close to extinction. Remarkable He looked up at Mara. This one is ours? A gift from the Warden Killer, Mara said. To mark the beginning of a new relationship. She looked up the steps, where the other Eversons were gathered, gawping at Ddoak. But there are rules. The hairless man licked his septum ring. Yes? What rules? No cage, Mara said. Ddoak moves freely through your mansion, or beyond, if they please. And you will provide them with whatever they need. Food, lodging. You will treat them like a guest. Like you would the Warden Killer himself. In exchange, Ddoaks services will be available to you, as long as they see fit. The hairless man nodded. And I will be back, Mara said. At intervals of my pleasing, to confirm that you are upholding your end of this arrangement. If at any point I find that you are mistreating Ddoak, or engaging with them in any way that is to their detriment, they will leave with me. And there will be additional consequences. The hairless man bowed low. And, Mara continued. The Warden Killer himself may wish to procure Ddoaks services from time to time. His arrival here will take precedence over services being provided to any member of the Everson Family at the moment of the Warden Killers arrival, regardless of time of day, nature, or intent. In other words: the Warden Killer gets dibs. Tell the Warden Killer we accept these sad rules, the hairless man said. And tell him we are grateful. He bowed again, then returned his attention to Ddoak. What a beautiful creature What an extraordinary thing But wait, Mara said. The hairless man straightened up. Now we must discuss the sad conditions of your other gift. She looked up the steps, the wind raking her hair. Tell them they have a labor ahead, Benno had said, smirking. Mara couldnt help but smirk herself. Your family has a labor ahead. [Part VI - The Gray Wastes] Chapter 41 - Wielder of Vore The neon lights of Luridia bled in the endless rain. It may have been the middle of the night, or the height of morning. There was no distinction between night and day in Luridia, with its perpetual blanket of clouds. It was only through the break in the clouds above the Eyes of HorusAniara, that break had come to be known, after an ancient Luridian poemthat sometimes bleak sunlight would glower, or a rush of stars would gasp like unwelcome ice. Otherwise, the city was a torrent of dark and wet and long, desolate streets. Clocks. Clocks allowed Luridia cohesion. Without them, the Nations capital would languish. It would harden. Fossilize. It wanted to. Clocks denied it this desire. They locked it into function. They forced it to run. Onus always found it funnyand quite a bit troublingthat Luridia, Overlord of the Ensemble, was itself such a dreary place. It was funny because it explained, perhaps, the motivation behind the Nations relentless colonialist ambitions: anywhere and everywhere was better than here. It was troubling because, as it turned out, the misery of Luridia, ingrained in the consciousness of Luridians, baked into their souls, followed them wherever they went. They spread their misery like a virus. This was why, in part, everything was awful everywhere. Onus was no different. He had accepted this long ago, and now, standing in the plaza at the foot of the Cupola looking up into the rain at his fathers Eyeswhich gawped down at him like two moons below a glimpse of starshe accepted that it was still true. The Lonely Son was misery incarnate. This was his birthright. He could not escape it anymore than he could escape his own body, or Luridias capital could escape the rain. No Luridian could, much less a Luridian of the Bellacord lineage. ExceptmaybeEdda. Edda, who was a lot of things, many of which were inherited from her ancestors, may not have been miserable. It was another way she was extraordinary. But Edda was gone. And she would want Onus to do what he needed to do for himself. And besides, hed missed it here. Despite everything, he was happy to be back home. Back in his miserable home. The rain soaked Onus face as the Sowersthe primary guard of the rulers of Luridia, serving the false rule of the Eyes of Horus for a thousand yearsfiled out of the Cupolas entrance and spread into the plaza. Their blades glistened in the wet air as they surrounded the Lonely Son, biding their distance. Onus looked up into his fathers Eyes. Traitor! the Sowers Principal called, her blade stationed ahead. You are in violation of the terms of your sentence! It is on the authority of the Eyes of Horus and the laws of the Nation of Luridia that you submit to rearrest or else risk I will speak only to my sisters, Onus interrupted, his voice dampened by the rain. The Principals blade wavered, then steadied. The First Twins have issued their verdict! You have no business with them and they have no business with a criminal! You have cavorted with an enemy of Luridia and abetted terrorism. You have proven your The Twins, Onus said, calm. They will want to hear what I have to say. The Principal was silent for a moment, then signaled to the other Sowers, and at once the circle tightened around Onus, a dozen blades leveled forward. Onus raised his hand to his mouth. This is your last chance! the Principal announced. Submit to the law, or face death! Onus looked up the height of the Cupola. Tig! Phos! Save your Sowers a bad death! I come with good news! I have made things right! The Eyes stared down. Traitor! The Principal shouted. Traitor! the Sowers echoed. Their blades cut through the rain as they charged forward. Onus swallowed. The sensation of the Tefached integrating with his body was indescribable. Something like burning ice, or an infinite hunger. Or perhaps like drowning. Regardless, he hated it. It was painful. Penetrative. Invasive. Which made sense given that the Tefached was alive, in its own way. Another life, now spreading through Onus blood, his nerves, into his organs. Widening his body to make room for its own monstrous machinations. The Sowers skidded on the wet ground, their blades retracting before the sputtering white scaffold that crackled up the length of Onus suddenly bloated body. Be afraid! he boomed, his voice bending the rain. His skin was white. His hair was white. His eyes bulged from his face, and his white tongue protruded. The Sowers scrambled backwards, shock and terror weakening their knees. One of them dropped her blade. Another tripped over her own feet and landed hard on the ground. A third turned and tried to sprint away, back toward the Cupolas entrance. But there was a flash of white, and a thunderous BOOM, and the Sower exploded into a dust of red that wafted through the rain. I am the Wielder of Vore! Onus bellowed, his hands outspread. I will rend you from your body and annihilate your children! The Sowersall the but the Principal, who stood her ground, either from some misplaced courage or from a petrifying terrortried to scatter across the plaza. But the Tefached pursued them, as fast as light, and BOOMS rang out, and one by one the Sowers shattered, and the paludal ground ran red. Onus looked at the Principal, who trembled as if with a seizure, the tip of her blade chattering on the cobblestone. Ffforgive me the Principal stammered. The Twins, Onus said through the roar of the Tefached. I will speak with the Twins. Lllord The Principal bowed her head. Mmy Lord If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Do not be fooled, a voice seethed from the rain. The Principal startled. Onus turned. He is not your Lord, a second voice boiled. From the dark mouth of the Cupolas entrance, obscured by the curtain of rain, two shapes emerged. They slunk like snakes, each in an opposite direction around the plazas perimeter, their stretched, gangly shapes writhing, their sickeningly long arms stepping like legs, their elongated necks bending with the weight of their heads. Pilferer one of them hissed. Thief the other bayed. Onus had not seen his Twin sisters in seven hundred years, and was shockedthough not necessarily surprisedto find that Suls corruption had worsened with time. In his youth, the Twins were beautifullike all of Horus daughtersbut after the War and the curse of their Permanence, they had morphed into vile iterations of themselves, struck as if with a disfiguring illness. And now, centuries later, any semblance of their past selves was gone. They were beasts. The Principal turned and sprinted off down the boulevard, and disappeared. Onus reached into his mouth and grasped the stalk of the Tefached. It would not serve him, or protect him, in the presence of Suls Wardens. He was at their mercy. It clung to the inside of his throat like glue as he yanked it free, shuddering with the relief of his bodys contraction. He placed it back in his pocket and peered into the gloom, where the Twins wormed. I have dealt with the Warden Killer, he said. I uninstalled the navigation programs from his vessel, and stripped him of any additional means of travel. Even if he was versed in the systems that run the ship, he could not repair it. He is stranded in the Lacuna, and will be forever. Onus followed the Twins shapes, turning back and forth as they circled. Your reign is safe, he continued. Luridia is safe. All I ask is for a place. All I ask is for my freedom. The Twins distended shapes prowled through the pall of rain. I do not want to rule, Onus said. I just want to live. He felt a bitter tightness at the gut of his throat. I just want to come home! The Twins slowed to a stop on opposite sides of the plaza. Then, in unison, they both stood to their full heights, rising like thick smoke. Is it too little, too late? asked the one Onus thought was Tig. He led the Warden Killer to Kerr, said the one Onus thought was Phos. And to Neoline, said Tig. Not to mention the sedition, said Phos. Yes, the sedition. And now, a fugitive, he has murdered our Sowers. An offense punishable by death. Though if what he says is true If he rid the Ensemble of that scourge then perhaps it is worth considering. that would be a benison. And with the runt out of the picture Without the runt he is as useless as dirt. And as dangerous as it! The Twins laughed then, a terrible, grating noise like gravel cascading down a cliffside, and Onus shrunk beneath the oppressive clangorand fought against the rage the Twins insults stirred up in him. Then the laughter stopped. But it appears he stole the Tefached, Tig hissed. Deplorable! barked Phos. Further sedition. Also punishable by death. Deserving of death. Though we have found a better way to rule. A better way. Be afraid, indeed. Be very afraid. At least he had the good sense to sheath it in our presence. The good sense and the respect. Yes. Respect. He has learned. Onus wiped rainwater from his eyes. I will not surrender the Tefached, he said. It is my inheritance. It is all I have left. But as you say: to you it makes no difference. Do not make demands! Tig snarled. Do not issue injunctions Phos wheezed. Im sorry, Onus said, turning in the mist. You are right. Of course. But I want you to understand: What Ive done for the Nation by impeding the Warden Killerthe risk I took to accomplish thisit cannot be overstated. The danger he posed, not just to you, but to our father. To Luridia. He was apocalyptic. I saw with my own eyes what he did to The Chieftain Neoline. He tore her apart like paperwith his bare hands. She could not even resist. The Twins stirred in the rain. When I saw that, I knew Onus continued. He posed an existential threat. To every Realm in the Ensemble. Deracinated, the way he was. I could not have it. If he had followed through on his plan, he would wish to rule in the vacuum. It is only natural. It is true, Tig whispered. Power begets a thirst for power, Phos rasped. So I took the nextand likely onlyopportunity to put a stop to it. Right then and there. Luridias rule must never fall outside the Bellacuse lineage. I refuse that. So when I come here, asking for amnesty, it is not empty handed. And it is not for nothing. The Warden Killer was coming for you next. If you had fled, he would have followed. He would have caught you. He would have ripped you to pieces. And I could have stood by. I could have let him, and relished the vengeance. But when he was done, I would have had no choice but to serve him. And it is you, sisters, I wish to serve. The Twins long shapes oscillated like seaweed. So I intervened, Onus continued. I groomed trust from him. I got close, and he let his guard down. And in that moment, I chose you. I chose family. I chose Luridiadespite everything. Despite seven hundred years of torment. I chose my home. Onus turned from one Twin to the other. I saved you, sisters. I saved you both. For a long moment, the only sound was the urgent rush of the rain. I can see his thoughts, Tig hissed then. He is sincere, Phos breathed. Should we tell him? He will learn anyway,. Onus looked back and forth between them. Tell me what? The Twins spindly shapes stirred beyond the dinge of the rain. Then, in unisonlike everything else they didthey approached Onus. Onus turned from one to the other. His fingers flitted along the pocket on his chest. Hed made a mistake. The Tefached would not save him now, not against two Wardens of Sul. He should not have come here. He should not have forsaken Benno. He had always made the wrong choices, ever since he was young. Horus had scolded himnumerous times, during their palaversfor acting on impulse, for making decisions based on emotions instead of cold and careful objectivity. It was Edda who was calculated, something else Onus always sensed Horus admired about herand valued in herover him. If Edda had been dealt Onus hand, she would be the ruler of Luridia right now. Her grip on power would be undeniable. She would be respected and revered. But Onus Onus seemed always to make the wrong decision, and with each one he fell further from grace, further from his birthright, down and down until now, as the Eyes of Horus breeched the pall of the rain, he would finally diea bad deathin the plaza outside the Copula, which should have been his home. The Twins emerged from the mantle of dark rain, and as they did, Onus gasped. Even concealed, he could tell they had changed. They had grown rangier, more misshaped. But he had not been able to discern the extent of it. Now, mere yards from them, the first thing he noticed was their skin. It was rotted away from their faces in wide pits, exposing the porous yellow bone beneath, and the skin that remained was pallid and gray. Their hairthe pride of the Bellicose lineagewas stringy and brittle, more beige than blue, and hung in dreaded clumps. Their eyesTigs more than Phoswere foggy and unfocused, literally misaligned, and their teethPhos more than Tigswere missing, and the ones they still had were long and askew, jutting from the gnarl of their black, receded gums. In their seventh millennia, the Twins should have been in the prime of their lives. And though Onus knew they had sacrificed their beauty to Sul, he did not understand what additional illness had befallen them, or what illness could befall a Warden of Permanence. The Twins seemed to shrink somewhat, exposed to their brother now, though they were still taller than him by several feet. Their decaying skin oozed a waxy discharge in the rain, and the exposed bone seemed to absorb the water like a sponge. What happened to you? Onus asked, looking back and forth between his sisters. When the Twins spoke, they spoke together. Sul has abandoned us. [Part VI - The Gray Wastes] Chapter 42 - Sister, sister Something was wrong. Benno had told Mara that he would contact her before five hours had passed after he and Onus departed. It had been seven. And when she tried to reach him via her Gemstoke, she was met only with silence. She considered trying to contact Onus, but Benno had warned her not to reveal her activities to the Lonely Son. He does not share our goals, Benno had said. Mara leaned down and checked, again, the glass triangle on Electorates collar as the enormous Dream Prowler slept on the floor of Eddas bedroom. In it, the back of Bennos head, tightly nestled into his haira new, third pyramid protruding from the crown of his skulland before him, barely visible, an interminable darkness. Something was wrong. Mara drummed her fingers on the cover of Ann-Copse Fenixs book. It was a short book, and clearly written, and having read through it now from cover to cover Mara had an idea of what had to happen next. But she couldnt do it without Benno. This worldthe Ensemble of disparate Realmswas unaccommodating, to say the least, even to people and beings far more robust than her. She was a human being, soft flesh and warm blood, and fallible even relative to dangers from her own Realm. She could not face the obstacles that lay aheadand even if she could face them, she could not move them. Which was not to say that she wasnt strong; she was the strongest person she knew, and had been her whole life. Especially now, after everything shed been through. She was stronger than ever. But she was strong in mind and spirit. In body she was weak. Thats where Benno came in. And without Benno, everything was hopeless. She left Eddas bedroom and entered the study across the hall. Ann-Copse Fenixs book had suggested that the Dream Prowlers reticleswhich was the word she used to refer, as far as Mara could tell, to their view into other peoples dreamscould only be aligned if the cat had made direct eye contact with its subject beforehand. This would seem to imply that Electoratewho Benno hypothesized was looking into the dreams of Sulhad thus made eye contact with Sul at some point in the past. Such a circumstance, given everything Mara knew about the impenetrability of the Gray Wastes, seemed impossible. And since Ann-Copse Fenix put the average lifespan of a Dream Prowler at around three-hundred years, it would not seem that the cat in Eddas bedroom could have encountered Sul before the War. So somehow, Edda had found another way. That other way, Mara could only assume, had to have something to do with what Ann-Copse Fenix described as applied transmission. This was a method that Ann-Copse herself had never seen in practice, but believed was possible. The Dream Prowlers could, in theory, travel from one persons dreams into another persons dreamstransmit their reticlesso long as the subjects made eye contact with one another. It would work something like a secret being passed along a line of people, like a game of telephone, and could, theoretically, go on for as long as the Dream Prowler pleased. Still, this wouldnt explain how Edda had managed to end up at Sul, since the same problems of access, or lack of access, to the Gray Wastes applied. Mara pulled a bookone of hundreds of identical booksoff the shelf in Eddas study and peered at the indecipherable code within. Then she looked up through the window at the pristine beach. Benno had described to her the Coil, the immense bleeding Heart of Horus, that had floated outside the Inn until, it seemed, at Eddas death, when it had vanished. Returned to Horus, perhaps, who resided in the Gray Wastes with his master. Would the same happen with his other body parts, strewn to his other children? When Onus died, would Horus genital return to him? Or when the Twins perishedif they perishedwould Horus eyes return to Maras breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her mouth. Horus eyes And just like that, she understood how Edda had done it. It was so obvious, so clever and so simple. She pictured Electorate, as big as a small car but yet a shadow in the relentless Luridian rain, staring up at the pared eyes at the pinnacle of the tallest tower in the city. The cats reticle had entered those eyes, entered Horus dreams, and thus entered the Gray Wastes of Chavanuck. Once there, it was only a matter of waiting until Horus took audience with Sulor whatever he did in that placeand Electorate could make the transmission. Mara grinned. She would have liked to have met Edda. Recipient slunk into the room and sat just inside the doorway. Mara replaced the book on the shelf. Understanding how Edda had hacked access into Suls dreams did not necessarily make the next step obvious. But it proved a profoundly important point: The Gray Wastes were not as totally inaccessible as it seemed. Something had gotten through. It was possible. Now if only she could talk it over with Benno # dlorsulbormitdlorsulestalotdlorsulthrackdlorsulnestip Benno thought about his first sleepover. After the other boys had gone to sleepat the directive of little Bennos panic and homesicknesshe had laid awake in the strange, dark room for hours. The shadows had been so alien, so impossible to tell what cast them, and by what light. And the smell, of different things, different laundry detergent, different foods, different bodies, had frightened Benno. It frightened him because, in that dark room, beyond exhausted, he realized for the first time just how different things could be from what he knew. He realized that the spectrum of qualities the world provided was vast, and his lifehis home with its familiar shadows and smells and peoplewas just a small point along that spectrum, a small, cowering point, crowded by so many others, at risk, always, of being swallowed up and disappearing. When his son had attended his first sleep overonly months before the accidentBenno had tried to prepare him for these feeling he might experience. He tried to articulate that just because something was different, didnt mean it was bad. He tried to explain that his sons life, the one he shared with Benno and his mom, would always be there, in some form or another, and couldnt possibly get swallowed up by other alien lives. He assured his son that it was going to be okay, and then reminded him that if at any point he wanted to come home, he could call home, and Benno would drive over and pick him up. No questions asked. But the night had rolled by without a phone call, and in the morning, when Benno picked his son up from the sleepover and asked him how it went, prepared to discuss with his son the discomfort, the existential anxiety of spending a night at someone elses house for the first time, his son instead had smiled, and said that it was great, that hed had a lot of fun, and that he couldnt wait to do it again. Benno remembered the rest of the drive, his son talking excitedly in the backseat about everything he and his friends had done the night before, and Benno himself nodding, gripping the wheel, a suffocating concatenation of relief and shame rising and falling in the long tract of his lungs. What could have been a moment in which hed risen to the occasionin which hed been there for his sonwas instead just another moment in which hed failed. Only that time, it wasnt his son hed failed, but himself. He tried the Shenandoahs console a few more times with the same results. Then he stood at the transparent wall and looked out into the deepest interminable darkness that existed, as far as he knew, in the entire sprawling Ensemble. Gotta tell you, creep, Jason said, leaning against the hallways door. This is about exactly where you belong. Better for everyone this way. Bertat erga set, agreed the headless Forrorian. Erga, erga set, the other Forrorian emphasized. dlorsulrungdlorsulapatoldlorsuldestradlorsulcast Are we supposed to be here? Benno startled, so deep in his thoughts that hed forgotten he wasnt alone. Holes scurried to the edge of the table. Are we waiting for something? Benno sat down at the table and looked at the flower. At the moment, he said. It would appear that were stuck. Oh. Holes frowned. Did Onus leave us here? Yes. Why? Its complicated, but Mostly because he misses his family. Holes thought about this for a moment. Wasnt his family really mean to him? They were. And he still misses them? Benno nodded. Is that normal? Benno considered this. Yeah, he said. It is normal. Its hard to hate your family. Even when they do terrible things to you. My own father, he was difficult. He made it hard to love him, but I think it was even harder not to, despite everything. And my mom, she left us. She just disappeared, with no explanation. I thought I hated her for a long time. But then I realized I didnt. I couldnt. I was mad, but I was mad at the circumstances in her life that made something like that plausible to her. It wasnt her fault. Im not sure anything is anybodys fault. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Even Onus? Even Onus. Even Sul? Benno exhaled through his nose. Probably even Sul. Holes petals furled, then unfurled. So what are we going to do? I dont know, said Benno, then he tsked and rapped on the table. Holes, I could really use a whiskey right about now. Okay! Holes chirped. Benno smiled sadly. If nothing else, at least Holes cheery optimism was intact. He didnt know how long the little flower would last without water, but he hoped it was a long time. Then Bennos chest tightened with a crushing wave of guilt at having dragged the poor little creature to its death. Another needless death. Another innocent life cut short because of Bennos choices. And following it, whenever it came, Benno would then drift through the infinite reaches of his guilt, forever, and ever. He lowered his face into his hands. Uh, Benno? Yes, Holes, Benno said without looking up. You better grab it before it falls. Grab what, Holes. The glass! Benno frowned up out of his hand. There, at his eye level, just starting to tip in the empty air, its golden liquid rising toward its edge, was a glass of whiskey. Benno blenched. What The glass started to fall. Benno shot out his hand and grabbed it just in time. Droplets of whiskey sloshed onto his knuckles. Good catch! Holes said. Benno stared at the glass. Where did this He looked at Holes. Did you make this? Holes petals frowned. Thats what you asked for, right? I remember whiskey because thats what Jack drank in the movie. Benno blinked from the flower to the glass. Did I get it wrong? Holes asked. No Benno set the glass down on the table. Holes. How did you do that? What do you mean? Where did this come from? Holes seemed to think about this. I dont really know, it said. The same place everything else comes from. Everything else Benno poked the glass. You mean, everything that Gemma makes? Yeah. Benno blinked twice, astonished, as something clicked into place. Seven years ago, Benno had asked Gemma to make him a plant. Holes grew from that plant. By some transitive properties that Benno couldnt wrap his head aroundbut which made immediate intuitive sense to him in that momentHoles must have inherited some of Gemmas capabilities. Gemma was, in essence Son of a bitch, Benno marveled. Gemmas your mother. Holes looked up at him. What? I mean, of course she is. She made you. Youre part of her. Extraordinary. Amazing. I thought you made me, Holes said. I only suggested it, Benno said. Gemma did all the work. Does that mean youre my father? Benno swallowed, and nodded, and then, inexplicably, his eyes filled with tears. Did I say something wrong? Holes asked. No. Benno scooped up the little flower and stood from the table. Holes, what else can you do? What do you mean? You can make whiskey. Can you make anything else? Sure! Can you get us out of here? Holes shrugged. I dont know, it said. Ive never tried that. Benno nodded, and then, overcome with the impulse, kissed Holes, and held it to his cheek. Well now is the time to try, he said. And no matter what, Im proud of you. # We are sick, said Tig, her voice like wind over dead leaves. We are dying, said Phos, her voice indistinguishable from her sister''s. Onus sat at the far end of the long table in his fathers boardroom, the same room Horus had held palavers with himand Eddaa thousand years ago. It was, largely, unchanged, save for the layer of dust that had gathered at the corners like fine snow. Even the smell was the same, though faded, like everything else. When did this start? Onus asked. The Twins sat side by side at the tables opposite end, their enormous, gangly bodies propped on the tabletop like spilled furniture. Fourteen years ago, said Tig. All at once, said Phos. And it is worsening. Faster and faster. Like an avalanche. Like a fire. We can no longer keep it secret, said Phos. The people know, said Tig. Onus chewed his lip. Fourteen years ago A very specific number. Sul has abandoned us. Tig raked her long nails along the tabletop. Sul has looked away. Phos exhaled, raspy. Why? Onus asked. Do you know? Tig and Phos shook their heads slowly in unison. We do not know Suls thinking. We never have. It is the only true mystery in all of the Ensemble. Fourteen years ago, Onus said. The Warden Killer received his Permanence. The Twins nodded. We know that now, said Tig. It is not by chance, said Phos. Do you think Onus considered his words carefully. Do you think Sul designed it this way? Do you think Sul desires for the Warden Killer to come for you? The Twins looked at one another from their rusty, unfocused eyes, but said nothing. Onus shrugged at his own question. Sul would not need someone else to do that work. Sul could simply kill you both with a thought. Again the Twins were silent. Onus sighed. It seems I have returned just in time, he said. A furious sound rattled from Tigs throat. We retain enough strength to crush you, traitor. Tefached or not, growled Phos. We are not yielding power. We do not plan to go quietly. Onus nodded. That was not my intention, he said. Rather, I can help you. A gust of wind carried a sheet of clouds against the windows glass, where beyond the citys spires reached up into the cold, starry sky. Without absolute strength, one must project absolute control, Onus said. As you weaken, it will be harder to fake your strength. Others will take notice. And Luridia has more enemiesand more dangerous enemiesthan the one who sits across from you. The Twins sneered at him, but did not speak. So you cannot appear to be losing your control. Form the outside, it must seem that your Permanence is intact. But how do we conceal pestilence? Tig asked. Already there are whispers of our demise, Phos said. Permanence can manifest in various ways. Our father, and his, and his, for thousands of generations, held power in Luridia without the aid of Sul. They used force, yes, the Tefached and the might of their armies. But they relied on something far more compelling. The Twins listened. Onus stood and leaned forward on the table. They relied on the perception of their sagacity. They could never be wrong. Horus greatest strength was his unwavering arrogance. Even if you knew he was wrongeven if his decisions were so obviously rash and recklesshis comportment gave you pause. He made you question your own convictions. And eventually, whatever it was he had decided, however it played, seemed like the only choice he could have made. It seemed like he had been right all along. You sound like your little sister, Tig said, betraying both bitterness and a reluctant admiration. You must project the same confidence, Onus went on. Address the rumors of your illness, and maintain that they are false. Repeat it. Over and over. Make the people disbelieve their own eyes. If they balk, murder them. Make a spectacle of it. Quash any and all resistance to the perception of your unyielding power. You, the First Twins, Eyes of Horus, are the rulers of Luridia. For now, and forever. Tig looked at Phos. And then what? Tig asked. That charade cannot last, said Phos. It will not have to. Onus strode around the table and stood by the window, looking out at his home. The true permanence of Luridia is its lineage. You both believed you had found a way around it, with Suls gift. But that appears to have been incorrect. So we must return now to the way it has always been. We must return to tradition. He turned around and looked at the Twins misshapen visages. I do not want to rule. But that does not mean I am free of my responsibility. It is my duty, and always has been, to conceive heirs. He swallowed a dry lump in his throat. If you wish to rule forever, you must pass that rule to your bloodline. I will help you extend it. The Twins made matching sounds of consideration. This way, Onus continued. When, or if, your illness overtakes you, it will not matter. You will have long established your daughters as successors. They will rule in your names. Meanwhile, I will continue to fulfill my obligation to the Nation of Luridia and produce a son, and raise him to understand his role, and he, in turn, will continue your lineage. A new paradigm of rulership. Forever. The Twins leaned toward one another, their turgescent neck swaying like tails, and for a long moment they conversed in dry whispers. Onus watched on, already regretting everything. Tig turned to him first. We must act quickly, she said. Before we are too weak to carry. The time for procreation is now, said Phos. Onus nodded, lowering his eyes. I agree, he said. The Twins stood in unison, their stretched bodies bent against the ceiling, their cracked and open skin coruscating in the firelight like swarming flies. Undress, they said together. Onus nodded again. He had done it. He had dodged a bad death at the hands of the Twins, or re-incarceration. All the hours hed spent with Edda absorbing her keen insights into the psychology of power and politics had paid off. He would survive. He would be able to live at home again. And all it would cost him was his dignity. But that, Onus knew, he could live without. Because hed given it up a long time ago. He removed his clothing and set it on the table, distinctly aware that the Tefached remained in its pocket, though he may never have a need for it now. The Twins writhed around the table toward him, their jaundiced eyes groping his body. The Implacable Cock of Horus Tig wheezed. The conjugal seed Phos coughed. It has been a long time. Tig reared up in front of Onus. A long time. Phos slithered behind him. Onus closed his eyes as the Twins rancid breath met his nostrils, his skin crawling with gooseflesh. Tigs dry, sharp finger scraped along Onus chest. Perhaps he will give us a son. We are deserving. Phos straw-like hair trawled along Onus back. Either way, Tig said, the sound of her own oily robes sliding to the floor behind Onus closed eyes. Our lineage will be safe. Either way, said Phos, the same some of clothes rustling behind Onus, and the sudden frigid shock of desiccated flesh against his back. Onus focused on his breathing. He was saving himself. Not to mention that this was his duty. His birthright. He was serving Luridia. And he was saving himself. It would not be worse than Augusts Bathhouse. It would not be worse. It was his birthright. It was his duty What Tig spat suddenly. No! Phos snarled. Before Onus could open his eyes, he heard the hurried scrrrch of shoes on the hard, smooth floor, and then a THUD nearby, so violent that it sent the Lonely Son off balance, and he stumbled and fell onto his back. By the time he looked up, all he saw was Tig, her crooked limbs flailing, driven backwards by a blur of yellow, and a moment later, before Onus could even process what he was seeing, she collided with the widow, which shattered, and together with the yellow shape she disappeared out into the dark sky. Naaarrrrrrgh! Phos roared, charging over Onus on all four of her limbs and thrusting her long neck through the window. Naaaarrrrrrrrrghh! she howled out into the night, before scuttling face-first, like a mole into its burrow, out the window and after her sister. Onus sat up slowly, his thoughts a sputtering chaos. He walked to the window and looked out, and was met with the sea of clouds below, and, in the pocket of clear sky surrounding the Cupola, three shapes falling in tandem. Then, unsure of what else to do, he walked to the table, dressed slowlyas if nothing of note were occurringand headed for the elevator. Status update Dear the best readers on Royal Road. I hope this finds you well. Apologies for the sudden absence. There are two things happening simultaneously: First, some personal- and work-related distractions have arisen, and they need my attention for the next bit of time; Second, I am currently reworking the last handful of chapters of The Gardens, in an effort to stick the landing as best as I can, and because of the first thing (personal and work stuff) the time just hasn''t been available to the extent I wish it was. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. However, the book WILL end, and I will not leave you all hanging much longer. I''m planning to resume uploads, and drive the story home, all in the month of September. I appreciate you bearing with me. I want to take this moment too to thank you all for reading. Thank you to those who comment, to those who leave edit suggestions, to those who theory craft, to those who analyze, to those who rate, to those who reach out to me directly to praise me or insult me, and to those strong silent types who just enjoy the story---you are all the reason I write. And you give what I do meaning. Truly. If you all didn''t exist, I would just be an insane person, typing on a computer and occasionally taking breaks to cry in the bathroom. So hang tight for now. I''ll see you soon. Lakenix