I hit the ground hard.
I was surrounded, and even if I hadn’t dropped my gun when I’d been yanked, I’d’ve been outgunned beyond hope. I landed on my back and stared up at the ceiling, in the middle of a circle of Liberationists with weapons in hand and foul expressions.
The Einherjar was standing over me with folded arms. Undead, shaved bald. Patches of missing flesh that would never regrow were visible on his neck and the back of his hands. The rot made his nice clean suit look almost absurd on him. He was from the far south, Folkvangr, weren’t they meant to all be shirtless tribesmen with braids and tattoos?
“What in the infinite hells is this, then?”
“I, uh, I-” I squeaked out. I was at a loss for words. My mind went blank. I had no idea what I could possibly say to get out of this. My eyes locked onto the knife one of the Liberationists was holding, just a simple kitchen knife, but…
“Nobody else up there, boss.” The mohawked woman with the fire-deity necklace came down the set of stairs I’d rushed the Godbox from. “She’s got a ladder up on the roof, looks like she got in that way. Got L-” she caught herself before naming a co-conspirator. “Got somebody searching all the little bedrooms to make sure nobody’s hiding, but…”
“Just you then. Crows, what a mess” The Einherjar let out a huff through his nose, oddly bovine. Then his giant hand reached down, and hauled me up, his grip painfully tight on my arm.
“Name?” He growled.
“A-” I considered lying for a split-second. I didn’t trust myself to sound convincing. “Alexandria De La Ruge.”
“Alexandria. Chartered, look at you, you’re trembling…” He looked down at me, with… well, his voice had sympathy but his face didn’t. He held a hand under my wrist, raised it up just to see it. He was right, I was. I was about to get beaten to death. Why wouldn’t I be-
Wait, was I not about to get killed?
He brusquely patted me down. I let him, even extended my arms to let him do it properly. I hadn’t exactly brought my purse out here, all I had was enough money for a cab home. No weapons and notably…
“No divine sigils. No weapons, huh. Or tattoos.”
“This isn’t Folkvangr, nobody here uses blessed tattoos.” The mohawked girl said. The Einherjar ignored her.
“Not Church, then. Staircase?”
I stared up at him. I found some courage I didn’t quite expect, actually found anger in my belly. Indignance at the fact he didn’t even know who I was, when I’d been there on the night of the murder, so very visible.
“I- I’m not working for anybody. I knew Raspe. You- you all killed him, didn’t you? And you didn’t even pay enough attention to know who was there?!”
There was a pause, his hand hovering just shy of touching my outer thigh, patting for a pants pocket I didn’t have. “Huh.” He said, before looking around. “...No, no we didn’t. But uh, you wandering in here and seeing the missing murder weapon, I get how you figured that, miss.” His eyes went back to the Godbox, then to me. He sighed, an odd, almost sad look on his face.
“So- so you’re not going to, are you going to let me go?”
“Oh no.” He smiled, just softly, apologetically. “We’ve got security to worry about. But let’s worry about that in a minute.” He took me by the shoulder and led me towards the bar. Gently at first but when I pulled away even a little he firmed his grip until it was painful.
He sat me down on one of the stools, in between the idol I’d shattered and a still-intact idol.
“Hey, can we get Green John down here? Better he make the call about this. And get the woman a damned drink, would somebody? You, make sure Hobsdwarf’s okay. Know he ain’t in the idol in the literal sense but it just hurts to see.” He sighed down at the little shattered mess of wood I’d left.
His people moved to obey, brushing the idol up in a dustpan, one rushing off upstairs, probably to find an idol for Green John to inhabit. Green John knew me, that was good news, but I didn’t know if it would be enough.
I took a deep breath. I had to think. Couldn’t just let this Einherjar take the lead, had to think of a way out of this. I wasn’t bound, but I was surrounded by so many people they’d catch me if I just bolted, through the front door or the window. If I made either the roof or that door I was free, they couldn’t just beat me down on the street, could they?
Couldn’t use the Godbox to escape like I’d planned. What else, what else?
“I- do you have a name?” I asked the Einherjar. Mostly just stalling for time.
“Call me Frank.” He grunted. I blinked in surprise.
“Uh, wait, Frank’s the other-”
“We’re all called Frank here lately, so far as the coppers are concerned. Ties ‘em all in knots and keeps ‘em confused.”
That was irritating. And didn’t tell me much. Fine, he was Einherjar Frank. That at least explained why I’d struggled so badly to find the real Frank Crewe, and why the cops were too, come to think of it.
It did not help me figure out how to make it out of here, though.
I was surrounded by idols, probably ones bound by contract to the Priest’s Union, since all gods legally were. I doubted even the Liberationists had actual unchained gods. Sure, they wanted it to be legal to unchain them, but actually having one right now would get them wiped off the map, it’s the kind of thing that gets the military deployed on you. The Priest’s Union does not mess around regarding that sort of thing.
I’m not really licensed to use any of the gods which were present, but…
Did they have a Hylyss idol? Maybe I could talk one of them into relaying a message to Hylyss?
If I asked, would they have the free will to ignore the contract anyway, surrounded right now by people who would refuse to report a breach of contract, and one woman who was probably about to be silenced permanently?
The Gnoll poured me a beer from behind the bar, and I sipped at it. It was cold, refreshing, but I really didn’t want to be drunk.
The mohawk girl brought in a familiar idol. Green John, even glowing, already inhabited. Placed it across the bar from me. The eyes bored into me, and I got a distinct sense of… disappointment.
“Thank ye, Frank.” He said to the girl. Even she was Frank, huh? Frank-ette? Frankie? She gave the idol a thumbs up. “So. Alex. Not a place I wanted to see ye. You’ve got a way of finding your way into places ye shouldn’t, eh?”
“This happened before?” Frank- ach. Einherjar Frank grunted.
“Aye, this wee prick got into the place by the docks last week. Weren’t subtle ‘boot it that time either. Don’t think she means harm or she’d be more careful, though that don’t mean she ain’t doing harm.”
“I’m not doing harm! I uh, I won’t tell anybody about this place? I didn’t about the last one either.” I raised my hands, trying not to look threatening. “I- wait, is Green John-”
“In charge? Aye, lass. Unless you’ve got a problem with that?” Green John challenged. Einherjar Frank crossed his arms, giving me an unhappy look, backing the little deity.
I sighed. Okay, fine, I could work with this. “Look, I’ll be honest: I’m looking for the Godbox. Guess I found it, huh? Aheeeh…” I let out an anxious laugh, tugging at my collar. “I sorta thought this was an Integralist hideout actually, I thought they killed Raspe and had it. Uh-”
That got a round of chuckles. From the Einherjar especially. “You figure they usually hang out in abandoned pubs? Vox and crows…”
“I don’t know!” I threw my hands up in frustration. “They’re shady as hell, lie through their teeth, why not secret hideouts in places they shouldn’t be?”
“I mean, that they do, but they’re the authorities, they get their shiny buildings out in the open. Their secret places’re all basements ‘n official buildings with very different functions to their paper ones.” Green John said. “I, uh, I dinnae if I buy it, honestly, nobody’s that dumb ‘n that smart both at once. Found us and then blundered in? You lot searched her right, sure she ain’t, I dinnae, blessed so they can hear anything she does?”
“You’re the god, telling that’s your job.” Einherjar Frank rolled his eyes. He walked over to pour himself a drink, too. This almost felt like a casual discussion between friends. Almost. The others around me were settling back into normal rhythms, the engineer had already gone back to fiddling with the back of the Godbox, a few others sitting down at tables, chatting amongst themselves, though keeping one eye on me.
I wasn’t even a threat to them, they knew I couldn’t escape, they didn’t need to bother keeping all two-dozen people watching me at once, did they?
Green John paused a moment, the glow around him shimmered a second. “Clean, I think. So you want the Godbox? Figured you’d be, I dinnae, a wee bit pissed about your mentor’s death, you just want his stuff?”
I gripped the drink a little tighter. Okay, that was a question I needed at least a little bit of alcohol in me to answer. I drank another mouthful. “...I barely knew the guy. We weren’t close like people all seem to think. His death was a tragedy, but… It was- I joined for a reason that meant more to me than just the couple months I spent helping him. His machine, do you know how many people it could help? Fertility deities already lifted hundreds of thousands out of starvation across the Coil Deserts, Folkvangr and even the poorer parts of Lysium, in the Worldspine or around wetlands down in Trichland. Something that could do even better than that-”
Green John paused, and his unmoving, inscrutable face seemed to consider that. “There’s more there’n just idle concern. Ye a bleedin’ heart, Alex? Full’ve concern fer the downtrodden poor you’re on a bastard stupid quest t’save?”
That got a rise out of me. I managed to resist standing up from my seat, but I sure shot up sitting straighter. “I live in the bloody Caravan Ward, I see this every-”
“I did me looking into you when you came to the docks, lass. Did me homework, I did. ‘Til you quit to go sign on with Raspe you were a pretty well-paid accountant lady. Nice house ‘n all, even if the property values’re shite.” John’s voice was cold, harsh. “Not ta’ entirely call ye a bougie prick, ye hand out food. With the Church.”
“They’re the only ones willing to damned fund-”
“Because they shut down anybody else who bloody tries, and they want t’keep people just a hair shy of calling them on their bull ‘n starting with the hangings. People with nothing t’lose turn into problems, so give ‘em a scrap at least.” He raised his voice now, the idol trembling faintly, rattling on its base. “The box. Ye wanted the damned box, Alex? To do bloody what with?”
I raised my voice too. I couldn’t believe I was arguing with him, but I was pissed. It was stupid, it was unwise, and he could say a word and have me killed, but dammit, I couldn’t help myself. “To help people, you tiny prick! It breaks physics, conservation rules go out the window, goodbye bloody scarcity! We can use it to-”
“Use it. Use it to!” Static ran up my arm. Gathering energy as John’s eyes flared like tiny stars. “There’s a wee woman in chains there with tears carved into her cheeks, ye want to use her to feed the poor? She’s not an empty corpse for ye to cannibalise, take her flesh ‘n bone ‘til she’s used up so ye can eat yerself fat! And ye don’t even have the decency to call her a her? Use it to?!”
“John…” Einherjar Frank put a fingertip on his base, steadying him. Gave him a disapproving look, too.
“She’s not-” The words stuck in my throat. I wanted to say she wasn’t a person. Gods weren’t real, gods couldn’t think, stick the party line. But with John staring me right in the face?
He was leading this organisation, apparently. I’d been talking with him like a person.
“You’re really in charge here? Did you found the group?”
It sounded like a non-sequitor, but my voice came out small, pained. I think John made the connection.
“We’re… a fractious lot. I had my own small group, which aye, I started. Joined up with the rest later.”
“And you really didn’t- want Raspe d-” I paused. Turned to Einherjar Frank. I didn’t need this answer from John, I needed this answer from him. “You really didn’t want Raspe dead? Didn’t know there was a god in there to start with?”
“I didn’t at least. Miss… I don’t like killing, believe it or not. I’d’ve stopped what happened if’n I’d known. We want gods free, not running around butchering folk in the street. What happened is understandable, but wanting it…?”
“You didn’t know there was a god in there until it showed up here.” I asked intently, eyes boring into his. Looking for, I don’t know, a wince, a twitch, any hint of a lie. His eyes glowed a lot like gods did, a faint uniform blue common to Einherjar, and his face wasn’t quite as expressive as it would’ve been in life, but unlike some drawings and posters I’ve seen of his kind he wasn’t empty-eyed and with a barely attached jaw.
“No. Crows devour what’s left of me intestines if I lie, none of us did.”
Even without his expression, his voice didn’t sound like a liar’s. Gravelly, but serious.
I went quiet a moment. Sipped at my drink. Tried to tamper down on the little pained sinking feeling in my chest. The Einherjar took a sip of his drink too, holding a hand to the side of his face to keep it from spilling out. When his hand came away there was a speck of damp on his collar, he grimaced in annoyance as he dabbed at it with a cloth.
I looked back towards the Godbox, after a moment. It- she, was in there, the statuette. She… she’d be a kind of ephemeral spirit floating over the world, but that statuette would be her only tie to this place.
I deflated, my shoulders sagged. “...Tell me about her. I didn’t- I didn’t know she was in there until I went in just now. Has she- talked to you, after she killed-”
“Nah, dead silent.” John said. “Traumatised, we reckon. It's weird, but she’s in there, we can see the glow, sense the energy. We’ve been sheltering the wee lass since and we’ve been getting the fire like we were the ones killed the guy just fer not handing her over.”
“Then how did she know where this place wa-” Oh, nevermind, not important. I let the question drop, sipped my drink a bit. I just let the silence stretch, gave John a moment to calm down, tried not to say anything to wind him up further.
The Einherjar hovered a hand over the base of John’s idol as though to ask ‘may I?’. John gave a “Aye.”
He turned the idol to face him, then said “We can’t just let her go. Now we’re done talking and… yelling, what’re we doing, boss? Can’t get Lady over there-”
“Ach, we’ve already got Our Lady of Electric Light, Just ‘Lady’ is taken. Her name’s a mouthful, but we need a better shortening than that.” John muttered.
“Fine, we can’t get Our Lady of the Infinite Regress out…” The Einherjar said the full name, nice and deliberately, clearly a little annoyed to have to “...if the cops raid us, she’s stuck here. Don’t think she’s got charge enough to move herself, and we let this nosy parker leave… cops will raid us.”
Our Lady of the Infinite Regress. The god-in-the-box’s name. Yeah, that was a mouthful. I still felt a vague guilt for not asking for it anyway.
“I won’t tell anybody.” I tried. The Einherjar just gave me a look like he didn’t believe me, and whilst John didn’t give me any look at all, couldn’t turn his head, I figured he was thinking the same.
Green John let out a long, staticky noise. It sounded like a harsh sigh passed through splintered wood. Frustration through carved teeth. “She’s in with Bishop Sullivan, we disappear her she’ll come looking”
Einherjar Frank looked to me. He was a big guy, a head or more taller than I was, towering. He met my eyes, just a moment, then turned back to Green John. “You’re the boss, it’s your call. You got any other ideas on what to do then?”
“...If we let her go, Bishop Sullivan comes looking anyway.” Green John replied. He was whispering quiet enough I think he didn’t know I could overhear him
There was a moment of quiet. I slowly pushed back from my drink, off the barstool. I knew what was coming. I could follow their logic to the end, it was basically inevitable, even if they weren’t particularly happy about it. Einherjar Frank murmured “I dunno. Are we really gonna…?”
“Bishop Sullivan comes looking and finds the Godbox here, we all go to jail for the rest of our lives.”
There was another silence. Einherjar Frank looked from John, then to me. Then back to John, real slow. He thought for a long, long moment.
Then his response came down like a guillotine. Simple words, so quiet I barely heard them.
“Yeah, fair.”
That was all, but everybody listening knew what he meant. Frank pushed off from the chair too, his feet planted on the ground with a thud. “Sorry, miss.”
I bolted. The barstool toppled over from the sheer force of my kicking off against the bar as I started running, like a swimmer at the edge of a pool trying to get a little extra momentum.
The other Liberationists were still listening to our conversation, even whilst busy with their own business. They darted up, moving to cover exits, co-ordinated. Two burly dockworkers covered the front door, Frankette took one set of stairs, the Gnoll the other.
I mostly went on instinct, wheeled backwards towards the center of the pub hall, wanting space, as far away from anybody who might grab or stab or bludgeon as possible.
My gun was- somebody had picked it up, it wasn’t where I’d dropped it. Okay, so much for that.
Stairs were out. Roof? No.
The Einherjar reached under the counter. Rummaged a second then pulled out his own pistol. He held it casually, not even aiming.
“Miss, don’t make this messy. I’ll make it quick, used to do this with an axe, back in the day. Head on the counter, you won’t feel a thing. Don’t… don’t make this worse’n it needs to be.”
I was hyperventilating. I just kept backing away from him until my back hit something. Hit…
Hit the Godbox. Brass fixtures prodded into my back and I jumped, screaming at the touch before I realised what it was.
I’d thought for a second it was the cold metal barrel of somebody’s gun.
“Don’t- stay back dammit, I’m not going to- I want to-”
I had nothing to threaten him with. He wasn’t scared, all I saw in those eyes was a mixture of annoyance and pity. I had just enough pride not to plead. I couldn’t exactly tell him I had a family anyway. I drew myself up.
Guess if I was facing death, I’d face it with dignity.
“I just wanted to help people dammit.” I placed a hand on the Godbox. My eyes were watery. I wiped them with a sleeve. I refused to fucking cry in front of these people. “You bastards talk about wanting to do good, and you’re going to shoot me for trying to fucking feed people? I- I never did anything wrong to her. I didn’t know she was a person, but I still never- whatever Raspe did, whatever she did to Our Lady of the Infinite Regress… It wasn’t me, was it? Do I-”
I was cornered. I pressed my back against the metal of the Godbox, the Einherjar in arm’s length now, not quite touching me but close enough I could smell the man’s sweat.
I felt a little hum of energy from behind me. Divine power. I…
“Don’t put a bullet in her, dammit, she’s brass but it’ll still dent her!”
The engineer spoke up, hissing. I glanced aside to her. Wires were sticking out the Godbox’s back, she was hooked up. She had power.
Einherjar Frank ignored the engineer. “Won’t pierce. At this range… blood washes out of metal, and the velvet’s already red. It’ll be fine.”
He pressed a hand to my collarbone to pin me to the box, pressed the barrel of the gun against my head. A red and salty tear streaked down my cheek.
I barely had a moment for last words.
And I had one idea. The same one I’d had earlier, honestly, the same one that had failed me five minutes ago. Still the only idea I had.
“Our- Our Lady of the Infinite Regress I beseech thee.” The Einherjar paused, tilting his head. He knew what a prayer sounded like. He had time to shoot me before I finished the first sentence, I wasn’t sure why he didn’t.
“I never hurt you. I never meant to hurt you, I didn’t know you were in there and if Raspe had told me, I’d’ve stopped him. I’m-” My voice caught, and more tears came, hot and raw. “-I’m sorry for everything, I didn’t mean to, but… I don’t deserve to die for this, do I? Stop them, help me, please! Whatever you are, whatever you feel about Raspe… I just want to help. So help me, dammit!”
There was a pause. I think even Einherjar Frank was questioning if this would work. There was a quiet moment where nothing happened. Where he cocked the gun.
Then the Einherjar’s eyes widened in shock as the Godbox responded to my plea. It roared to life behind me, my skin crackling with the electric feel of divine energy in the air.
As the world around me erupted into a cacophonous flood of butterflies, and a stampede of peacocks.