The God Trap

There are five demons at the end of the alleyway beating a god into a pulp with fists and claws. They’re laughing, voices almost human; the god is only silent. I set my coffee aside and walk down it, skirting two trash cans and a dumpster. Being a god-eater means many things, and even after three years I don’t know all of them. But it’s about policing gods as much as anything else and that’s always more than just destroying gods who get out of hand.

The demons are from Outside the universe. I know there are rules for what can come into the universe, the why and how of it, but the wandering magician told me once that the rules were different for demons and angels, or at least for Outsiders who took on those forms. He either didn’t know why or figured I’d sleep better if i didn’t know. I know demons are nasty, and angels just a higher order of demon. A demon destroys with lies; an angel with what we think of as truth.

This was something else entirely. and I had no idea what. The god inside me stirs: wanting anger, to be armour and claws and things that lurk in the darkness just outside of where people want to see. I keep it restrained, for now. “What do you think you’re doing?” I snap.

The demons stop. The god is struggling for breath, a bloody pulp somehow not dead at all. I don’t think you can kill a god, not with fists and kicks, but it doesn’t seem to have stopped them from trying. The demons turn slowly toward me. I don’t have a voice like a magician does, but I’ve dealt with an eleven year old boy from Outside the universe long enough that when I snap, people pay attention.

“Heh.” The demons all look like preteen hoodlums, complete with hoodies and nasty grins. One steps forward, sniffing the air. “A god-eater. Not many of your kind around, and alone.”

“Not alone: she’s the one with the wandering magician,” another demon hisses.

The leader pauses, then: “Alone right now,” and walks toward me. There is a crowbar in one hand that wasn’t there a moment ago. Her smile is eager and hungry.

“The wandering magician would banish you, yes. Jay would – make you kind. I’m not them.” I reach, and the crowbar made of energy is eaten and gone in moments. The leader cries out in a language I don’t know and the demons move. They’re fast, inhumanly so, but being a god-eater means I eat gods. And other kinds of energy when I want to. I reach, and eat the demons before they can even reach me, and far before they’re a threat. One moment the alleyway is dangerous, the next I’m the only real danger left in it.

The god looks to be an older man, currently curled up next to a brick wall and sobbing softly, broken glasses clutched in his right hand.

“Are you all right?”

“You saved me. A god-eater does not do that.”

“I do what I want.”

“But they will be back. With real weapons. I can – I am the god of a optician. Of their store. I can see into the future for others, never myself.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“They are not of this world.”

“I know; I’d like to know why some creatures from Outside the universe take on that form but I imagine it’s for laughs. Or imprinting. Do you know why they were after you?”

The god shakes his head.

I reach out: a thought, instinct as much as feeling. “Should we check the shop?”

The god pauses, eyes narrowing even as the wounds seem to heal and fade away. I have no idea if that is being a god, or worship, in the general sense. “Why?”

“You said you worked for an optician. I’m wondering why anything from Outside would attack a god with such methods. Seeing your god beaten would send a message, if they know you exist.” I reach into my purse, pull out a handle that is small enough at the moment for me to palm, pretend to check for my phone as I remove it. “Honestly? I’m justy wondering what the point of this was.”

“You are wondering what the point of demons beating me to a pulp was?”

I sigh. “No. I’m wondering why you are doing this. Firstly, why you think I wouldn’t have realized you aren’t really a god. And secondly, why on earth are you trying to trap me? I mean, it was a poor trap at the best of times and the only reason you are stil here is because I wanted to know why.”

I don’t add that I hadn’t thought to check if the entity was god until a moment ago. For a variety of very good reasons.

The entity that had been hiding as a god smiles. The smile is probably intended to be nasty, but I’ve seen far worse. “You are friends with the wandering magician. That is something we can use,” it says, and the glasses hit the ground as tendrils of darkness spill out of what was a stomach a moment ago.

I grin, palm the birthday present from Jay and activate it. Light flares up from the handle of the blade, somehow not hurting my eyes. Energy shimmers in a conduit of plasma. I’ve never done this, but I have seen movies. I move, swing, move. Controlled, unhurried, and the lightsaber made from a boy from far Outside the universe carves through the darkness. It screams, the sound a blow on the world, but the blade blocks even that.

I stab the blade, twist, and the Outsider’s made body dissolves. It might be dead, or vanished, or have gone back Outside the universe. I have no idea, hold the blade as I wait a moment and then turn it off and put it away. I can hear it singing inside my head, something akin to whale song I think. Thanking me, wanting to be used, happy to help.

I make a mental note to ask Jay just how he convinced a quasar to become a blade and check the alley. Some burn marks, but nothing worth calling the fae about and asking for glamour to clean it up. I stomp on the glasses and destroy them, to be on the safe side, turn back to the street.

A boy and girl are staring at me. She’s about ten, he is a year or so younger. Siblings, I imagine, eyes wide in wonder.

“Jedi are real?” the girl breathes. Her brother looks too shocked to even manage words.

“Lucas borrowed the concept from someone else,” I say quickly. “We aren’t – Jedi. We protect the world from monsters.”

“What are you?” the boy pipes up.

“A friend, sometimes.” They back up and scatter apart like bowling pins as I exit the alley. If I was Jay, I could charm them. Were I the magician, I’d come up with some koan-like wonder to explain this. I settle for that and walk down the road as they run back to their parents. I pull out my phone and call the fae.

A soft voice answers the number I’ve been given in the middle of the first ring. “How can we help you?”

“It’s Charlie.” I always say that; I have no idea if the fae use a real phone at their end of the line. “I have creatures hunting me hoping to use me against Jay and the magician. Probably as collateral or bait. Or blackmail.”

The fae snorts, the sound almost human. “That is extremely unwise of them.”

“I let them know. But Jay is off making friends and I’m not sure where the magician is at the moment. I suspect he’s busy, and the Outsiders want me to call him away so – I wouldn’t object to help.”

“That is outside the terms of the arrangement. We supply coin, and clean up – incidents.”

“I know. And I know the wandering magician has – issues with your kind. I won’t pretend I like you, but I’m not going to let that get in the way of what makes sense. What kind of price did you have in mind?”

The fae is silent. No doubt communing with other fae. “The wandering magician – we cannot change his view of us, I think. But Jay: if you can try and make that one not hate us, we would consider ourselves in your debt even after this.”

I blink. I keep walking. “I can’t make promises, but I can try.”

“Good.”

The line goes dead. I put my phone away, walk down the street and try my best to eye too many shadows as though they contain pouncing monsters. That they fae are getting the better half of his bargain goes without saying, but at the least I might not have to start fighting with a lightsaber in the middle of the damned street.

As much as part of me would love to do that.

Sometimes having to be an adult is all responsibility and no joy. But I have a lightsaber now, so I think the rest of the time it will be just fine indeed.