Chapter 9 - No Time To Be Alone
“Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.”
-Dalai Lama
"Think Bethany, think! Think!” Bethany chanted, trying to grab hold of her own fear.
The creature stood over her, its hand raised towards Bethany’s face. Leaves flew out from its palms and enveloped Bethany’s head, a vortex of nature pouring over her. Thorns scraped across her cheeks, and branches struck her ears and nose, leaving welts and shallow cuts. The vortex felt like it was forcefully drawn the air from her lungs.
“No…not…can’t…” she struggled, reaching frantically to grasp anything that might help her fight back.
And just when she had lost hope, she felt the vortex weaken, and then disappear entirely. The creature had ceased its assault.
Bethany opened her eyes. The young man stood behind the creature, clutching a thick branch in his muscular arms. He struck it across the back, again and again, each swing cutting another gap into the creature’s shell. The creature’s spun its head towards the man like an owl, intent on this new prey.
“You have any ideas, crazy lady?” shouted the man, swinging furiously. “Because this doesn’t seem to be working.”
“Its chest,” coughed Bethany, rolling over to crawl towards her hammer. “Swing for its chest.”
The man nodded and adjusted his swing downward. It took a few attempts, but soon Bethany caught a glimpse of the crystalline orb within. Her hands closed on her hammer, and she willed herself to her feet.
The creature thrust its arms forward, striking the man in his chest and launching him off his feet. He came down three feet away, landing hard.
With all her might, Bethany leaped forward, grasping her hammer in both hands and bringing it down directly on the exposed orb. It struck hard, and Bethany heard a resounding crack that echoed across the day-use site. Bethany saw hairline fractures begin to spread across its surface, branching outward with every passing moment. The creature flailed. It could not speak, but if it could, it would be screaming.
The orb fractured into a dozen pieces and fell to the ground, unmoving. The creature’s leafy carapace gave one final lurch forward, then collapsed into a pile of leaves and branches, returned to their original state.
Bethany struggled to catch her breath, each one a painful gasp. She held her hammer tightly, staring at the pile of leaves, waiting to see if it moved.
The man gave a frantic laugh, climbing to his feet and pumping his fist in the air.
“Yah! That’s what I’m talking about. Did you see that, Becka? I mean… Woo!” he shouted excitedly. He reached down and pulled the woman to her feet.
“Yes, Daniel, we did it.” The woman looked over at Bethany, but Bethany was too exhausted to care who got the credit.
Daniel rolled his eyes, an almost reflexive gesture, then walked over to Bethany, offering his hand. “Are you okay?”
Bethany nodded, trying to catch her breath.
She saw something shining in the pile of leaves at her feet. A silver coin the size of a quarter glimmering in the sunlight. Bethany reached down and picked it up. It felt heavy in her palm.
Bethany twisted it around, studying the engraving. There was an ivy vine crawling along the outside edge of the coin. Engraved in the middle was a single popular tree growing on a hilltop. Every leaf, branch, and root of the popular tree was etched in immense detail. A breeze blew through Bethany’s hair, and for a moment she thought she saw the leaves on the engraved tree flow with the wind.
Bethany flipped the coin over. It was flat and featureless, except for gold lettering engraved across its surface. It read ‘Bethany Fox. Attribute token. Redeemable at Mr. Mercury’s Emporium.’
“What’s that?” asked Becka, rushing over excitedly. “A coin? Let me see.”
“I don’t know,” responded Bethany. The woman’s trepidation about Bethany seemed to have dissipated upon seeing the coin. Bethany considered Daniel and Becka for a moment.
“Well, I did have make friends on my list,” Bethany thought, handing the coin over to Becka.
The coin went right through Becka’s palm, landing on the ground beneath her with a hearty thump.
Bethany, Becka, and Daniel stared at the coin laying in the grass. “Did…you see that?” asked Daniel.
Becka leaned down to pick up the coin, but her hands went right through it.
“It’s like it's not real,” Becka said, frustrated. “Daniel, you try.”
Daniel reached down, with the same results. He gave a curious grunt before looking at Bethany and nodding at the coin.
Bethany grabbed the coin off the ground with ease.
“I guess you can keep it, um…” said Becka.
“Bethany,” Bethany responded as she shoved the coin into her pocket. She did not know what it was for, but it seemed important.
“Bethany. Look, I’m sorry I called you crazy.”
Bethany did not believe her, but she was in no mood to argue. Her arm and face was starting to sting. She raised her hand to her forehead and could feel the swelling cuts from the thorns. There was a touch of blood on her hand when she drew it away.
Daniel reached over and held Bethany’s chin lightly in his hands. He tilted her head back carefully. His hands were surprisingly gentle, but his touch still made her flinch.
“Sorry,” Daniel apologized, but he kept his hands on her chin. He examined her injuries for a few moments. “You should be fine, but we need to clean those cuts.”
His thumb fell to her bruised cheek, her father’s last gift to her. “That orb creature did not give you this,” he said with concern. “Is this why you are living in your car?”
Bethany took a step backwards, out of his reach, and hid her cheek with her palm. She did not answer him.
“Do you have a clean cloth?” asked Daniel, his voice laced with a caring professionalism. Bethany recalled Becka saying Daniel was a paramedic on her phone call.
“Yes, but I can do it. You don’t need to help me.” Bethany responded, walking to her car, and reaching into her grandmother’s suitcase.
“Nonsense,” exclaimed Daniel. “Those cuts may be shallow, but we don’t know what that thing was. You need them to be professionally cared for. And I don’t see any other paramedics around here.”
“Daniel,” whispered Becka, trying to keep her voice low so that Bethany could not hear. It did not work. Bethany had always had sharp hearing. She had learned to distinguish the natural creaks and groans of their rundown home from her father’s footsteps. It gave her time to hide. “We need to go home. Where we are safe. Stop trying to play the hero and leave her here.”
Daniel’s face dropped, a look of disappointment in his eyes. He returned her whisper. “It won’t take long. And she saved our lives, Becka. We can’t just leave her here.”
“She didn't save our lives, Daniel. We were running away just fine,” Becka said. “What happens to her is none of our business.”
“Becka, you can’t be…”
“I’ve got it,” Bethany said, grabbing her cloth and interrupting the bickering couple. She did not want to hear any more.
“Thanks Bethany,” Daniel said, once again adopting an artificial, upbeat tone, “Let’s get you fixed up.” He headed towards the washroom, Becka in tow and none too happy about it. Their winged eye followed closely behind until they entered the washroom and closed the door in the creature’s face. The winged eye floated to the top of the washroom and rested on its ledge like a pigeon, waiting for them to emerge.
Bethany stood still for a moment, torn between following them and jumping in her car and leaving them behind. She was sure Becka would be grateful if she just left. But what if this was her only chance to make some allies? Did she dare turn a blind eye to the opportunity?
A breeze blew across her day-use site and carried the pile of leaves into the sky, high above the waters of Wascana Lake, revealing the shattered remains of the crystalline creature. Bethany listened to the city’s chaos echoing across the park. She looked south beyond the hundred-foot wall, to the dark clouds billowing over the dense and ominous jungle. She looked north, towards The Builder, hovering over downtown, with the majestic mountain peaks soaring beyond.
Bethany’s winged eye hovered closer to her. She stared directly into its lens.
“My life just started,” she whispered, her voice laced with emotion. “I was free. Finally free. I was ready to build a new life. You took that away from me. I’m going to survive your God Contest.”
She gave a sharp kick, launching the largest piece of the creature’s corpse against an elm. It shattered.
“You just watch me.”
Bethany marched towards the washroom, clutching the cloth in one hand and her hammer in the other. She opened the door and strode through.
Just as the door slammed shut behind her, she remembered the plaque hanging on the wall. And she knew what it meant.
G.A. 1-32, Dolos
The God Arena of Dolos.
* * *
In the pitch-black void where she had been imprisoned, the Oracle, who was known to Bethany as Diana, smiled.
Her now-blinded eyes cast their gaze towards the wheels she set in motion.
Towards the City of Regina.
Towards the end of the Gods.