Eden's Jester (31 page)

That little voice in my head, that’s what it was: my old self trying to get out. That’s scary. But it explained a lot.

“So, you’re Death and I’m the Jester?”
 

It was Death’s turn to roll the eyes.

“And the Patron?” I asked.

Death nodded. “Our boss. She was far away the last time this went down. One of us--I won’t say which--acted impulsively and got us into trouble before we had the proper forces lined up behind us. So we had to handle it ourselves in the beginning. That’s how you got lobotomized. The Patron showed up at the end and finished the job. I mean the battle, not the lobotomy.”

I looked around at the ensuing chaos.
 

“Where is she now?” I asked.

“Probably taking aspirin for the splitting headache.”

“Headache?”

“Yeah. You’re little call stunt practically split her brain in two. You’re lucky she really likes you.”

“Yeah. I can tell she likes me. I feel so blessed.”

Death shrugged. “So, you feeling up to wading into this mess? We really should help Biolos subdue the Apolloi. He’s having a hell of a time up there.”

Things were looking grim.
 

“What about the Preceptors?” I asked.

Death rubbed his chin while he studied me. “True. I doubt you’d last long out there. You’re not exactly your old self. But if we don’t do something soon we’ll have a new hobby: hunting down demons from the Abyss as they rampage through the cosmos. Sounds fun, but I’ll pass.”

“I killed one, I think,” I said.

“Yeah. I heard. In the Abyss. That, by the way, was against the rules.” He pointed a bony finger at me.

“Well, perhaps someone should have explained that to me
before
I ended up in the Abyss.”

Death put up the palms of his hands in a ‘not my problem’ gesture. “Just saying . . .”

I watched as the flock of demons circled and dodged like a cloud of mosquitos around an old lightbulb. They were a hateful bunch. Malice for revenge blinded them from their danger. All they wanted was to kill when they should be high tailing it out of here.

I was worried about Els, Rolic, and the team. There were probably defenseless. At any moment they could become lunch. What we needed was a better-looking chicken to lure the jackals.

I picked up a large rock. “I have an idea,” I said. “Follow me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I flew through the center of the storm, making token attacks on as many of the Apolloi as I could. They were battling Biolos, but they remembered me—and hated me. They couldn’t decide whether to continue to fight or break off to chase me.

Death flew circles around the Preceptors, herding the Apolloi with fearsome strength. Holding the scythe, he reminded me of the Wicked Witch of the West, flying on her broom. He laughed like her too.

I held up the rock and commanded its atoms to release all their energy. Light, trapped since the beginning of time, burst forth with wild life. I inhaled it and kept it in. My mind burned. I couldn’t think. All I wanted to do was let it all free. I was dimly aware of the cloud of demons closing in on me.
 

Biolos, now free to focus on his attack, began the frantic work of dealing with the rest of the Apolloi. As their numbers diminished, Death spent more time sending jabs at the Preceptors, trying to draw their fire away from Biolos.
 

A squad of Sentinels fell from the sky in a coordinated attack. I used a considerable amount of energy to build a solid shield to ward off their weapons, which were less threatening now. I then began the methodical work of disabling them one at a time. I don’t remember when Death joined me. At some point we began to work as a team. With me defending, he was able to scare the others away using gratuitous amounts of strength.
 

But the delay enabled several of the approaching Apolloi to get close and attack us. We turned and reversed the strategy. Death put up a shield and I went on offense.
 

The monsters raged against us. I recognized the malice of one of them. It was my old friend Legion.

“Legion,” I called. “I owe you big, pal. This one’s for Aello.” I aimed a tight jet of anger at the thing’s heart. In my disoriented state, I couldn’t control the flow. Legion’s lattice exploded in a shower of spiritual sparks, then dissipated.
 

Several of the Preceptors turned to me, hatred in their eyes. The Apolloi paused. Even their malignant madness couldn’t blind them to their peril.

“Uh, Jester. That’s against the rules, man. I told you . . .” Death said.

I stared back at the Preceptors, but said to Death. “Don’t care. And the name’s Elson.”

Then to the Preceptors: “How’s Scoubalos? You guys ready to join him? I’m ready to make it so.” I was venting. If Death was right about my past, I had nothing like the power I once had. But the raw energy and the battle had pushed me over the edge of crazy. And these guys were at the root of it all.
 

A voice from behind me shook the hills.
 

“Enough, Jester.”

“Now you’ve done it,” Death said quietly in my ear.

The Patron had come. Finally.

The fighting stopped. Biolos had finished his job. Quivering fuzz-balls of evil littered the ground at the Preceptors’ feet. The elementals backed away. The Engineers stood still. The Preceptors snarled. Every one of them.

The Patron stepped over the hills and into the building site. She was a titan. Her long black hair trailed down her back to her waist. Her eyes were the color of the night sky, with galaxies swirling within them. In her left hand was a rod the size of an onyx sequoia. In her right hand was a sphere made of what looked like snakes of lightning.
 

The Patron looked familiar. I couldn’t place her, but I’d seen her face before.

She met the combined glare of the Preceptors. “Where is Scoubalos?” The titan thundered.

Glial, the Preceptor who ruled over Melanthios, stepped forward. “He is safe from you, Patron of
Man
. You have no authority here, or over us in any place.”

“Summon him,” the titan thundered.

“We will not,” Glial stated flatly.

The Patron looked at me and Death. If I wasn’t so pissed, I’d have peed myself.

“My servant, Death. Fetch him.”

Death bowed, and was gone.

“You overstep your bounds, Patron,” Glial said.

The titan smiled. “You do not set my bounds, Glial. As you shall soon see.”

The Patron seemed to have things under control. I started toward the place I had last seen my friends.

“Be still, Jester,” the titan commanded.

Wow. Was I not getting any less grumpy.

“The name’s Elson, Ms. Patron, and I have friends who need me. I’ll be seeing to them, if you don’t mind.”

The titan sighed dirt off the pyramids.

“Your friends are well, my servant, Jester. But I don’t suppose you can be stopped. You never could. It is your way. Proceed. They are there.” The Patron pointed to one corner of the building site.

The standoff between the superpowers continued while I went to my friends. I searched the area and found several Engineers, dazed and confused. But they were well. Rolic was seeing to them.

A voice, shrill as a harpy’s, grated my nerves from behind. “Elson, you complete idiot. How could you have done this? You left me out here all by myself, right in the middle of a pitch battle between forces of Law, Chaos, eleven Preceptors, and a host of elementals. What were you thinking?”

I turned to see Els. She was burned and smoldering, in many ways. But she looked good.

“Believe me, Els, it was safer for you out here,” I said.
 

She ran her fingers through her hair and tried to straighten her clothes. Some of the proper business woman remained, after all.

“What about the artifact? Did you get it?” She asked.

I looked around, and pointed a thumb at the giants behind me. “Don’t you think the point is moot?” I asked.

She looked over my shoulder and shrugged. “I suppose.”

She folded her arms across her chest and managed to look put out.

Rolic appeared beside her. His black suit was gone. Instead he wore brown corduroy pants and an unbuttoned black flannel shirt with a grey tee shirt underneath. He didn’t match.
 

“Elson, what’s happening up there? Who’s that?”

“That’s the Patron of Man, whatever that means,” I said. “It appears she used to be my boss.”

“What are they doing?” He asked.

I scratched my head and turned to the crowd of giants staring at one another. “Not sure. But if any of them starts a ruckus, duck.”

“Was that Biolos attacking the Apolloi?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

He strained to see. “Interesting.”
 

“So, what’s next?” Els asked. “Are we just going to sit here and wait for them to make the next move?”

I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Uh . . .
yeah
.”

“There’s nothing we can do?”

“Sit tight, Els. This isn’t over. I’m going to go listen in.”

I made my way back to the cluster of giants and stood at the feet of the Patron.

The ball of lightning snakes fizzed and popped in her massive hand. The rod was firmly planted in the sand of the building site. The group could have been a crowd of statues, for all they moved.

“So, Ms. Patron, while we wait you wouldn’t have time for some questions, would you?” I asked.

The air heaved, as the titan took a deep breath. “This time is reserved for judgment, Jester.”
 

“Elson . . . if you don’t mind. I understand. I was just wondering, since we were waiting for Death . . . with nothing to do, but wait for Death. No problem. I’ve waited a long time for some answers. I’m patient, if nothing else.”

The titan tilted her great head and and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
 

“Patience is not your virtue, Jester.”

She had me there. “So true. Then you wouldn’t mind one question?”

Another windy sigh.

“Very well. One question.”
 

“All right. Let’s see. One question . . . Hmmm . . . What would that be . . . Ah, I’ve got it:
Why
?”

She closed her eyes. “I fear to ask. Why what, Jester?”

“It’s Elson. And, why everything? Why this mess? Why this mess twice? Why the mess with the Designers? Why aren’t the Designers here to fix this? Why has this whole thing, the world I mean, gotten so out of hand? But most of all,
why me?
”

The titan looked down at me and smiled like she was about to tell me my dog had died, but that it would okay because he was in doggie heaven.

“The Designers are not. Creation must suffer the pains of birth. You volunteered. Those are your answers. In no particular order.”

“What? I did
not
volunteer . . . did I?”

Before the Patron could answer, Death returned. Behind him floated a large and sophisticated, though mostly inactive, lattice structure of a soul. It was the brain-damaged Scoubalos. Another smaller but likewise inactive soul was in his hands.

“Place him with the others, my servant, Death,” the titan commanded.

Death laid the soul at their feet and winked at them as he returned to stand next to me.

I whispered to him, “I volunteered for this?”

He leaned over. “Yes. You said, ‘Send me. I’ll do it.’”

“Huh. I must have been stupider before I became brain-damaged.”

The titan’s thunderous voice echoed back from the hills. “Preceptors! Your rebellion is at an end. Pillars!”

The Pillars came forward and presented themselves before the Patron. “These have committed great crimes against your people, as well as against mine. Your service to this world is beyond reproach. You are honest and noble creatures. I ask, will you take another responsibility, namely that of guarding their freedom, until the end of this age?”

They caucused, then Earth spoke. “We desire to do so, Patron. But how are we able? We have no power to hold their kind.”

The Patron smiled again. “Indeed. Unforeseen events have made for us a dilemma. The power of the Abyss has been broken by the Jester.”
 

I didn’t feel guilty about that at all. No one told me we’d be needing the Abyss.

“However,” the Patron continued, “the Jester has also provided a better prison. Behold . . .” She swept her hand across the landscape. “A myriad of prisons. Each is impregnable. Each is controlled only by you, Pillars. You are now the gatekeepers of the prisons of the multiverse. Your honor, your integrity is unquestioned.”

With that, the Patron cast the ball of lightning snakes at the feet of the Preceptors. It burst into twelve snakes. Before anyone could blink an eye, the snakes attacked the Preceptors and bound them, becoming heavy chains, pulling them to the ground.