Shaman, Healer, Heretic (32 page)

“Our spirit helpers were not even there yet,” said Wan-li.

“And all of a sudden, the ground started to quake,” said Ursula. “The trees were all shaking.”

“Tiamat had been waiting,” said Wan-li. They all looked at her. “Somehow, she had been able to move from the Underworld to the Middleworld and when we got there, she was waiting. Otherwise, we would have heard her approach, yes?”

“We would have felt her approach,” confirmed Alvina.

“There was very little warning,” said Ursula, nodding.

“Sorry, I don’t think Sunny understood,” said Carmen. “She kept looking around. I saw you yell,” she said, turning to Wan-li, “but I couldn’t hear what you were saying. Sorry.”

“I told her to get out,” said Wan-li quietly.

They all stared down at Sunny’s mat.

“But what happened to Sunny?” whispered Livvy.

Joel stood by her side, holding her shoulders. “Why didn’t she get out?”

“I don’t know,” said Ursula and Alvina at the same time.

Wan-li shook her head.

SK squatted down near Sunny’s white goggles and picked them up. He turned them over slowly and then set them back down, not expecting to see anything. As he stood up, he could sense that the dynamic in the room had changed.

“Well, Ursula has seen enough.”

She bent over and picked up her goggles. The wires that led to the central box stretched taut.

“Where are the scissors?”

“What do you mean?” said Livvy, stepping forward as Joel let go.

“Ursula is taking her goggles with her.”

“You’re giving up?” said Livvy, alarmed.

“Giving up?” replied Ursula with disdain. “Giving up?” She looked pointedly down at the burnt circle on the floor. “Do you want to be the next one?”

Carmen also picked up her goggles. “Sorry,” she said.

“But–”

“Tiamat is waiting for us, dear, right in the Middleworld,” said Alvina.

“All the more reason we need to do something,” pleaded Livvy. She turned to Wan-li. “Wan-li?”

Wan-li looked around at the others.

“We’ve never even seen what we can do together. We haven’t even given it a chance,” said Livvy.

Wan-li grimaced but finally shook her head.

“It’s fine for you,” Livvy said, hotly. “You can go back to your business.”

She looked at Ursula. “You can just keep selling herbs and potions.”

Joel put a hand on her arm from behind. “Livvy, don’t,” he said.

This is shaman business
, thought SK,
don’t try to get involved
. He nearly took a step toward him but then didn’t have to as Livvy shook his hand off.

“But you know,” Livvy gestured around the circle. “You know that sometimes the Multiverse is the only way to help people. You know it!”

They were silent.

“I know it,” she insisted. “I know the difference it can make. Are you just going to give up on that?”

“Give up,” said Ursula. “It’s not about giving up. It’s about staying alive. What great good comes from dying?”

“But–”

“Enough!” said Ursula. She turned around and headed toward the door.

“Don’t you want your goggles?” asked Alvina.

“No,” said Ursula, and then she was gone.

“Well, I guess if you’re never going to use them again, you don’t need them,” said Alvina, shrugging. She looked down at hers. “Even so, dear, I’d like to take mine.”

“Me too,” said Carmen. She looked at Livvy. “Sorry.”

Slowly, Livvy went over to the kitchen table and picked up a pair of wire cutters. “They won’t work without some rewiring,” she said.

“That’s all right, dear,” said Alvina. “Just cut them loose.”

Livvy cut the wires for Alvina and Carmen’s goggles. She looked at Wan-li, who nodded. Reluctantly, she cut those as well.

“Please,” she said, as they headed to the front door with their goggles. “Please don’t do this. I know we can figure something out. We have to.”

“Livvy, let them go,” said Joel.

Butt out and shut up
, thought SK.

“You don’t understand,” Livvy said to Joel.

She followed the shamans into the hall and seemed about to say something but saw their retreating backs and couldn’t. Instead she came back into the front room, her shoulders sagging.

“It’s for the best,” said Joel.

SK clenched his jaw. Livvy stared down at the floor, shaking her head, and then looked up at SK. “I know we can figure something out,” she said.

“We might,” he said. “But not today and not here.”

As SK looked around, it occurred to him that the front room looked exactly like what it was–a war zone. The emergency crews had left disposables lying everywhere, the stench of death hung in the room, the broken stuff from the day before was pushed up against the wall, and the red Bible verses seemed to have grown darker.

The mishmash of clipped wires, goggles, and the central box lay in the middle of the floor like a broken machine. Nobody had taken their mats. They reeked. In fact, he reeked.

“Come on, Liv,” said SK. “We need to get out of here.”

She looked shell shocked.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Livvy, are you going to be all right?” asked Joel, as he stepped between Livvy and SK.

She’ll be fine
, thought SK,
if she can get out of here
. He moved to the side where he could see her.

“I’ll be okay,” she whispered.

Joel looked down at him. “I’m still on duty, but you’ll take care of her?”

“Of course,” said SK, grinding the words out.

“Looks like your little friend is going to look out for you,” said Joel.

SK’s hands balled up into fists.
 

SMALL, SMALL PEOPLE.
Too small
, thought Tiamat. She would need more because of their size–many more–but they were scarce now.

She raised her head to look up at the sky, but it was not the real sky. How she longed to feel the real sun fall on her fur. She closed her eyes, remembering it–hot and bright and in motion. She opened her eyes. There was nothing else like it, especially here in the Multiverse.

It turned out that the Middleworld was no better than the Underworld in that way–no real sun, no real sky, and there were certainly not enough people. Over the tops of the trees, she could see the forest stretch out in every direction, with the black lake behind her. She raked her tail back and forth, watching the trees, boulders and dirt fly.

It felt like nothing, like everything else down here. Except for the people, of course. Their terror was thrilling. The more she got, the more she wanted, but where were they now? Her tail flicked at the thought, landing with a thump that splintered the trees under it.

She sniffed the air. In the old days, the smoke of the altars had filled her nostrils. The smell of burning flesh had wafted up. Even now, the memory made her salivate. There had been altars throughout the land. Where the people had not made offerings, she had wrought destruction. It had been a hard choice at first, between the savory offerings and the terror of people.

She unfurled her wings and launched upward, scooping great wingfulls of air beneath her, pumping higher and higher. She screamed for the sake of making a sound, hearing her voice echo back from the distant mountains beyond the lake. She had circled them many times.

As she looked down at the path, there was a flash of light. She dived toward it, screaming with excitement, but as she got closer she saw who it was.

Her again.

Tiamat almost veered away, out of boredom, and then she thought of killing this one as well. The thought made her stomach grumble. Yes, since people had forgotten how to make sacrifices to her, she would make sacrifices of them. If a beak could smile, she would have smiled.

Even as she headed directly for the woman, she sensed no terror. Out of frustration, she continued her dive.

The woman bowed low, in the ancient gesture.

Tiamat pulled up at the last instant and, with a great whoosh of trailing wind, she landed on the path, nearly blowing the woman over. As she furled her wings, she crouched and snarled, but the woman seemed not to notice.

“Were you not satisfied with the shaman, Great One?”

Tiamat snapped her jaws with a deafening crunch.

“There are more,” said the woman.

Tiamat stomped her clawed feet, and the woman teetered but regained her balance. Then Tiamat screeched, causing the woman to cover her ears as she waited for her to finish.

“It takes time, Great One.”

Tiamat screeched again.

“You are in the Middleworld, are you not? Soon, you will be in the real world. I am nearly ready. The other shamans have been a…complication.”

Her great tail wagged from side to side, scattering what few trees were standing in the vicinity.

“They will not stop us,” said the woman. “They cannot. But they seek Marduk.”

The ancient enemy! Tiamat unfurled her wings and flapped furiously, sending billows of sand and dirt flying in all directions. Marduk!

“They will not reach him,” screamed the woman, her hands still covering her ears.

Tiamat calmed down. Marduk. She was not afraid of Marduk. If he should find her, so much the better. She would know his tricks this time. Tiamat looked down at the woman with a new appreciation. The small people were sometimes surprising.

“They will not reach him,” repeated the woman. “I will make sure of that.”

Yes, it is too soon to consume this one. She is still useful.

“I must go now. I cannot raise suspicion, but the gate will be open soon.”

The woman disappeared in a flash of light.

Tiamat looked down at the scar on her belly and then screeched in anger as she launched into the sky. Marduk! How she would relish a chance to meet Marduk again.

“SUNNY, WHAT ARE you doing here?” asked Livvy.

Somehow, Sunny didn’t look right. Even though Livvy knew she was dreaming, Sunny didn’t look like Sunny.

“What are
you
doing here?” Sunny asked.

It didn’t sound like Sunny either.

Livvy looked around her dream, wondering if she ought to wake up at this point. Where were they? It wasn’t any place she recognized. It was a desert, that much she could tell. But as far as she could remember, she’d never been in a desert.

“Were you looking for me?” asked non-Sunny.

Surprised, Livvy turned back toward her.

“Looking for you? Yeah, maybe I was.”

“What would you want with me? I wasn’t very much help.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” said Livvy.

“No, it was yours.”

The words stung her. Sunny might as well have slapped her.

“Okay, I think it’s time for this dream to be over.”

“You don’t like to hear that do you?” asked a voice from behind her.

She whirled around and, at first, there only seemed to be cacti. One of them moved though and had legs and it was walking. It wasn’t a cactus after all. As it lowered its arms, it turned out to be Min.

“Min?” asked Livvy.

“Why are you here?” asked Min, who didn’t look or sound like Min.

Confused, Livvy said, “I’m not. This is a dream.”

“Are you sure?” said another voice.

Livvy turned back to Sunny and saw that Indra was with her, clumps of dirt caked all over her.

“Indra?” Livvy asked, feeling a panic start to creep over her.

“Maybe she’s come to apologize,” said Sunny.

“It’s a little late for that,” said Min, laughing in a shrill tone.

“But I didn’t do anything,” said Livvy, backing away from Indra.

“I never said you did,” said Indra, advancing on her.

“It’s what you didn’t do,” said Min, close behind her.

“I did everything I could!” she yelled.

She felt an icy grip on her shoulder.

“No Min, don’t!”

Indra and Sunny each seized an arm as she struggled.

“No, please! I did everything I could!”

“Livvy,” said another voice, calmly. “Livvy, wake up.”

Oh, she wanted to. She wanted very much to wake up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” said Indra, breathing in her face. Her breath smelled like rotten meat.

“Livvy, honey, it’s not your fault,” said that calm voice again. A figure began to coalesce in front of her. Livvy sensed who it might be.
Oh no
, she thought.
Please no!
She struggled frantically against her captors.

“Let go of me,” she screamed.

Finally, as the figure swam in midair like a roiling cloud of smoke, legs descended and arms and a head appeared.