Turns out the ice cream was delightful, and the child-priests of Morgor not nearly as creepy as Arridon initially suspected.
The city of Eo was a spectacle.
Derrick described Eo as a city made of every single movie he’d ever seen. As they descended in a glass elevator down into a forest-filled atrium the size of a substantial city in its own right, they laid eyes on flying dinosaurs in the air, leviathans swimming in the lakes, and all manner of creatures running free in the wilderness.
They walked along pathways paved with purple streaked stones, quarried from no lands either boy had seen or heard of, that led to an open-aired veranda overlooking the vista of Eo’s external areas. No glass kept the vacuum of space away; they sat on ornate, wrought iron chairs at an equally elaborate table alongside a railing that overlooked the void of space.
None of that could hold a candle to the occasional alien passing by.
Perhaps “alien” wasn’t the right word to describe the beings that strolled through the city, going about their business without a care in the world. Tentacle-strewn masses that floated by, nested in glass jars like potted plants. A massive, long-limbed, shaggy-furred quadruped walked past on hoofed feet, speaking with the aid of a translating device hanging around its neck. It engaged a conversation with three tiny, goblin-esque creatures that rode in a child-sized, wheeled chariot, pulled by a breed of sunset-colored dog that shimmered as it pulled them along. Humans, of course, were prevalent. Humans, or Gods. It was hard to tell the difference.
Keeping the peace were fully armored humanoids, clad in polychromatic plate mail and armed with towering halberds that were married with some form of brass and gold-inlaid firearm, or laser cannon. The boys silently agreed they were terrifying weapons.
“This place is half nightmare, half wet dream,” Derrick said. “I’m feeling a bit queasy about it.”
“I want one of those pole arms,” Arridon said, eyeing the firearm/halberd hybrid weapon the guards carried.
“Do you even have empathy? Is that something that happens on your world? Stay focused on the endgame.”
“I have empathy, but I’m pretty rigid in that I want to find my sister and kill the Bleed, and that weapon looks real handy for that,” he shot back, and then licked his ice cream cone. His irritation was immediately disarmed by the cold treat under the stars with a planet in the distance.
“I must go,” Tim said, his attention drawn to a small electronic device that hung off his breast like an old pocket watch. “I’m being summoned to a meeting about enchantment details. To get to the retention offices, head over to the corridor right there and look for the circular doorways that enter into round rooms. Step into one, and speak where you want to go.” He stood.
“Thank you for the guidance, and the ice cream,” Derrick said. “I did have another question, if you have a moment?”
“Of course,” he said with a fanged smile.
“Are we safe here?”
The question seemed to perplex the half-demon, half-god. “Do you feel safe?”
“Not particularly,” the boy from the moon answered. “Is what we came to ask for going to put us in a bad situation?”
“There’s a very good chance it’ll draw the attention of someone you don’t want the attention of,” Tim said. “But that’s life under the heels of a species that almost everything else calls a god. You can’t walk with your head in the clouds and your feet in the lava without getting wet, or burnt.”
“Interesting metaphor,” Arridon said, licking his ice cream.
“If you need more help, send me a drift.” Tim fished something from a duster pocket and handed Arridon a slender glass tube filled with smoke. “Pop the tube, speak your message into the mist with your location, and I’ll be able to find you. Stopper it when you’re finished and the smoke will replenish over time.”
“Works here in Eo?” Derrick asked, taking the vial from Arridon.
“Works anywhere,” he said, and winked his one living eye. He pulled his goggles down from their perch on his forehead, clicking them neatly back into place over his face.
“Why no horns, if you’re a devil?” Derrick asked.
“Doesn’t run in the family.”
29
EO
They got teleported.
At least, that was the word Derrick used to describe what happened to them to Arridon. It made sense; after all, if the gods knew how to pierce layers of dimensions and transport people and objects with ease, they could do the same on a much smaller scale in their last city of Eo.
Arridon and Derrick appeared in a room the same as the one they’d departed: round, with white stone walls, all inlaid again with gold or brass. When they arrived, the round door to enter the round room slid open, disappearing into the wall and revealing a hallway made of lush, dark woods, carpeted in a vivid red fabric, and again, all embellished with touches of gold and brass. The hallway disappeared off to the left and right of a brass rectangle covered in words neither boy could read.
They went into the hallway and stopped at the sign.
“Can you read it?” Arridon asked.
“Nope.”
“Let’s stare real hard at it. Maybe we can scare it into talking with us,” Arridon said.
On a lark, the two young men did so, mean-mugging the sign with furrowed eyebrows and set jaws. After several seconds, the etched letters in the foreign language squirmed like snakes, and reformed into a language they recognized.
“Holy shit it worked,” Derrick said, laughing. “Look, it says retention offices are this way.”
The two boys, still amazed at their strange luck, made their way down the long hallway. They passed several doors and multiple paintings of beautiful alien vistas and one tall painting of what could only be described as a battle scene between the gods and the Bleed. That painting was
