Book II Chapter 9 : BALLS TO THE WALL
With a sigh, Ora zipped up her coat and shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. It was getting colder, and nearly all the trees in the surrounding forest had turned mustard brown in color. The radiant, fiery foliage from mid autumn had shriveled and faded, hardening against the chilly new season. Many leaves had already begun to fall.
The wind very gently scooped up a small pile of fallen leaves and swept them across the walkway in front of the old school, where Ora sat alone, gathering her thoughts as she tried to explain to herself what had taken place in the last twenty-four hours of her life.
She took a deep breath and released the air inside her lungs, and once the moist, hot air mixed with the crisp winter air it became a visible puff before quickly dissipating.
“Why am I alive?”
Ora’s ear twitched as she heard faint crunching footsteps grow louder. Someone had come outside to join her.
The bench beneath Ora’s body shook as a pair of combat boots took the spot next to her. “There you are, Ora! We’re ready to go.”
“Hey, Kali…”
Kali let her rear hit the bench with a thud, shivering as she hurriedly tried to button her army jacket and adjust her knit hat so it covered her ears, which had been studded with three piercings each. Kali’s fashion sense was vastly different from the more withdrawn little girl she once shared a body with, bordering along the lines of punk and skater girl.
Ora noticed Kali wore a chain around her neck with a key dangling at the end. She smiled. “That wasn’t meant to be a necklace.”
“I wanna make sure I don’t lose my present, that’s all.”
“It’s just your own copy of the key to the school,” Ora blushed.
Kali held the key in her hand and lifted it up to look at it. It was nothing special on the outside, but to Kali it was a symbol of finally finding where she belonged. At last, she had a home that welcomed her with open arms. “Maybe I’ll start a key collection, I dunno. Go all Ben Franklin on everyone. All I need now is a kite.”
The two looked back toward the school as Lamia, Maris, Vesta, and Neiva filed outside in their winter clothes. Ora squinted as she counted their numbers again. “Where’s Arma?”
Arma pivoted, grunting as her right shin collided with the red bag of sand. “HYAA!”
“Hey, new guy!” shouted a voice behind her. A man wearing gloves and shorts was shadow boxing against the gym wall, its white paint peeling under a spread of aging posters featuring great boxers of the past.
Arma inhaled the gritty air, foul with sweat and blood, before facing the boxer. “Sorry, is my time up?”
The boxer wiped his scruffy scalp, nodding. “Da fighters come in ‘bout dis time, ‘n’ dey’ll be wantin’ da good bag. You kin use dat one.”
Nodding, Arma tightened the hood on her sweatshirt and moved to the other side of the gym, where older equipment was spread out for rookie fighters. She took a sip from her water bottle and gasped as the stale, hot air made her long for a cooler. Though many of the men at the gym wore tank tops and shorts, Arma covered herself head to toe with thick cotton sweats. The last place she wanted her true gender to be discovered at was a men-only boxing gym in a shady area downtown. She was grateful for the business card Ora had given her, however the girl had obtained it, but she wasn’t sure how long she could go without being discovered.
School was one thing, but boxing was a contact sport.
Arma stood in front of a beat-up black, heavy bag that was suspended from the ceiling and looked as though it was ready to retire any day now.
Kneeing the bag a few times, Arma thought of the face Lamia would make when she realized Arma had snuck out of the house to train at five in the morning on a Saturday. You must be working on your masters in barbarism!
She steadied the bag a moment and sighed. Arma had hoped that training in her regular body would strengthen her Guardian form. After what had happened the previous night, she wasn’t sure she really was strong enough to go up against Boniface and his team of Guardians.
Arma and the others had been naïve; it was entirely logical that Pistis Sophia would have her own clan of warriors. If she hadn’t kept what happened between her and Boniface a secret, maybe her team would have been better prepared.
“HA!” The bag spilled open, sand flooding out the side and toppling over into a pile on the floor. Arma stepped back, laughing nervously as the men gathered around her. “I can pay for that...”
A man of small stature, though obviously a well-respected figure in the old gym, pushed his way through the taller men and cursed the redhead into submission. “Dammit, kid, that’s the second time this mornin’! Quit trashin’ my equipment!”
“I know, Frank, and I’ll try harder next time not to--”
The tiny man took out his cigarette and puffed a ring of smoke up into Arma’s face. As she coughed, the man felt the edges of the torn punching bag. He lowered his voice as he grabbed Arma by the shirt and brought her down to his level. “Arma, right? Look kid, I said ya could train here if you stayed out of our ways, yeah? I can’t use ya in da ring ‘cause I don’t do lightweights. But if ya don’t respect my stuff, and if ya don’t get everyone’s towels, you’re just gonna be in da way. Duke needs his hands wrapped, so get to it.”
The condition for Arma to train for free at the gym was her promise to wait on boxers like a servant. She got them fresh water, she laid out their towels, and she gave up whatever equipment she was using if a regular told her to beat it, no questions asked.
A tall, dark figure, whose head looked like a shiny grape on top of a sack of potatoes, stepped forward. He smirked and pointed down at Arma. “Hey Frank, let me have a go with this twerp. He needs to learn some respect.”
Frank puffed on his cigarette and shook his head. “No way, Lance. This kid’s about fifty pounds under your class.”
Arma puffed out her cheeks but didn’t say anything. Being new to boxing, she didn’t understand why there was a separation between heavyweights and lightweights. As far as she was concerned, Lance looked like a pushover.
Lance laughed heartily. “That bag was wearing thin anyway. My grandmother could have knocked the sand out-you’re just some high school small fry wanting to get back at some bullies, make himself look all tough by takin’ up fighting. Well, puss, here’s your chance to be a real man!” And saying this, Lance flexed his body, his pecs hardening and arms bulging to the point where Arma was certain the little head grape would be squished between shoulder spuds.
Lance continued. “Why don’t you take off that stupid sweatshirt, eh? Show us what you’re packin’!”
Arma clutched her hoody, her eyes darting from fighter to fighter. She wore a tank top underneath, but she wasn’t about to compare her body to the real men. Of course, Lance was entirely off base when it came to the reasons Arma was shy about her body.
The large man grabbed Arma by her hoody and lifted her up as some of the other fighters tried to talk him down. “He’s a chump! I’ll put him down after I’ve warmed up a bit.”
A heavyset fighter decided to join in the heckling and grabbed one of Arma’s dangling legs. “Ha! These feel like girls’ legs! I wanna see ‘em!”
Frank slinked back away from the crowd and headed for his office. He panted as he took the baseball bat hanging from his wall off the hook before dashing back out to the main area. He did not see a man coming toward him from the left, and the two collided.
The frailer, considerably smaller trainer looked up, about to give the jerk who ran into him a good wailing, when he stopped. He swallowed, and his jowls slipped into an apologetic grin. “Heh heh, sorry, Bones. Didn’t see ya--”
“What’s going on?”
Frank used the bat to help him stand back up. “Those brain-dead schmucks are gonna knock the new kid halfway to kingdom come before he’s even signed the health waiver. If he gets hurt, I’m in legal shit up to my ears!”
The man took a long drawl from his cigar and adjusted a large cowboy hat that sat over his brow. “I got this.” Frank looked relieved as the man, “Bones”, walked across the gym in his brown leather jacket and snakeskin boots, his slow footsteps somehow louder than the commotion coming from the group of laughing jocks.
Conflicted, Arma didn’t know what to do. She struggled to keep her pants on as two of the men ganged up on her, howling as she squirmed against the wall. She couldn’t wiggle out of her sweatshirt and run for it because they’d probably notice that, though small, she had breasts rather than pectoral muscles. At the same time, she wasn’t confident she’d be able to control her strength enough to knock them around a bit without seriously hurting someone. “Leave me alone!”
With his attention on Arma, Lance had failed to notice the man approaching him from behind. When the burning end of a cigar was forcefully pushed into the back of his shiny skull, he dropped Arma with a shriek, falling do the floor with his hands over his neck.
“Goddamn! Who did that? Huh? Who the hell-” Lance’s voice became a squeak. “B-Bones!”
The other men backed away just in case Bones felt the urge to pulverize Lance.
Bones stared at the butt of his cigar with mild annoyance. That had been his last cigar. His green eyes flitted over to the redhead in sweats, and though he didn’t recognize her at first, once he did he fought the urge to throw back his head and laugh. He remained stone-faced, anticipating the look on Arma’s face when her eyes would meet his.
Arma rubbed her shoulder and looked up, and once the identity of the man who saved her sank in, her body began to shake.
Boniface…
For Boniface, it was the look he’d been waiting for. He allowed himself a faint grin before flicking the remains of his cigar to the floor. “I got a hundred bucks that says this kid could take you in one round.”
It didn’t matter that the undefeated local champion had said this, Lance balked at Bones’s wager. “Hey, I was just kidding around, man. I’m not gonna be responsible for the death of some snot-nosed kid.”
Arma began to sweat. Of all the times and all the places to run into her mortal enemy-she certain this rugged man was Boniface, but wouldn’t he rather take her instead. What was he thinking?
Frank ran up behind Bones and shook his head. “No, no! I’m liable if he gets hurt!”
“All right, how about this? If Arma can’t last a full minute without getting hit, I’ll jump in after the first swing and stop the fight. We stop the fight and she…”
Arma gulped.
Bones smirked. “And he steps out of the ring and leaves the gym, never to return. However, Arma gets to stay, and Arma gets to train as a regular fighter, if she can knock Lance on his ass within the first fifteen seconds.”
The other men laughed, and Frank patted Bones on the back as he chuckled and wiped away a tear. “Sure, sure, I’ll sign him on the spot if he takes Lance down at all. I’ll even train him myself.”
With a firm grip, Bones reached over and pulled Arma up by her arm, and she was amazed at how his fingers easily wrapped the full diameter of her upper arm. She gritted her teeth as he forcefully pushed her toward the basement stairs, with Lance hesitantly following behind.
Herbs and Chinese medicines lined the shelves of the tiny corner store. Maya, in her white lab coat, glasses, and with her hair pulled up, sat at a desk with a prescription bottle in hand, her other holding a pen to write down directions on a tiny label just large enough to cover the bottle of pills. She glanced up at the sound of the front door bells jingling and put on her best smile.
“Mrs. Haversham? Your prescription is almost ready, if you’d just-”
Maya’s smile faltered. It wasn’t Mrs. Haversham running early; Lamia and Neiva entered, with Kali squeezing between them to rush forward. Behind them, Vesta, Maris, and Ora reluctantly followed.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” asked Maya.
“Got a bone to pick with you, Blondie,” snorted Kali.
Maya pushed up her glasses, examining the group quietly as she tried to pretend she hadn’t a clue what they could possibly be referring to. “I don’t recall telling you the location of my little shop.”
Kali reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small jar. She unscrewed the top, reached in, and grabbed a tiny ball of gray fur she then presented to Maya. “Tada. You were ratted out.”
Vox, who looked like he had taken quite a beating inside his glass chamber, kept his eyes lowered. “They overpowered me.”
Maya chuckled. “And you didn’t just teleport away?”
“We threatened not to buy him cheese for a month,” said Lamia, rather proud of herself. “He came willingly, but just in case we threw him in a jar.”
Maris put her hands in her pockets and sighed. “Sorry, Maya. They insisted we come talk to you about last night…”
A tapping sound against the glass door signaled an elderly woman was attempting to push through the barrier or women. “Dr. Lafleur! Do you have my prescription ready?”
Kali tried to shoo the old woman away. “Buzz off, granny! Dr. La Floor is busy!”
Maya gave a rare show of agitation and promptly took the woman’s prescription, walked around the front counter, and handed the pills to the old woman. “Mrs. Haversham, please forgive my… niece… Oh, and tell George he needs to come by tomorrow for his refill.”
Maya took the woman’s payment, waved goodbye, closed the door, and turned the sign on the front around so that it read “closed”. She pocketed the money and spun around on her heel, glaring down at Kali in silent irritation. “That was inappropriate.”
Gulping, Kali backed away slightly before backing into Lamia and Neiva, who urged her not to lose courage. Nodding, Kali faced Maya and asked, “How’d you know about Ora last night?”
Feigning a show of ignorance, Maya walked over to her register and placed the money inside. “Well, Kali, I’m afraid to tell you this but most of the town knows what happened. A tornado, wink-wink, took out the news tower, which I must admit is something of a relief for me since now all we’ve got to deal with is the local newspaper finding out about us. Oh, but print is so much easier to avoid than video footage, I should think, so really that storm-”
Ora spoke up. “Maya, how’d you know I died?”
Maya went silent.
Ora continued. “Everyone said you just showed up with a flower ready for me. But you weren’t at the fight. You didn’t know…”
With a much softer expression than before, Maya lifted the counter guard and motioned for everyone to follow her through a door behind the register. “I think we need some cake and strawberries, don’t you?”
Everyone in the gym had stopped training to gather around the boxing ring downstairs. The lights flickered off and on, leaving a fairly dull light source for the two fighters and their crowd of curious observers. Frank was taking bets, still not entirely certain Bones had his head on straight. Bones, acting as the official referee, watched from along the ropes outside of the ring, arms crossed, the brim of his hat casting a shadow that concealed most of his face.
Lance climbed into the ring and raised his arms, soaking in all the cheers and applause from his supporters. He threw off his tank top and flexed, signaling for more shouts of approval.
Arma had also taken off her sweat clothes, knowing she’d want to have as much freedom for movement as possible. She was risking having her true gender discovered, but figured the poor lighting made it worth taking a chance. Besides, she thought, she’d make it quick.
“I’m tellin’ ya, Bones,” shouted Frank. “The kid isn’t ready for the ring. He doesn’t know the rules yet!”
Lance cracked his neck, rolling his head around on his shoulders and laughing as Arma approached him in the center of the ring. “Is that true, twerp? Fine, how about this. No rules, just go right for a knock-out. I’d be impressed if you could last three rounds on your feet with me, so you can use whatever tricks you can come up with.”
Arma thought a moment. “No rules?”
“Okay, no biting.”
“Hey,” Bones called out from the side. “Go easy on the chump, okay?”
Lance gave Bones a thumbs up sign. “I’m just gonna give him a good scare, man. Don’t worry.”
Bones smirked. “I wasn’t talking to you, Lance.”
Before Lance had a chance to process this, the bell sounded, and he raised a heavy fist for the first strike, which he hoped would be an instant knockout. In the blink of an eye, he found himself on the hard ground. Arma had dropped to her feet and kicked his legs away before springing backwards and landing on her feet again. Lance was dumbfounded, but when he looked up he was met with a playful wink from his opponent.
“Anything goes, right?”
Furious, Lance charged forward, swinging his fists and aiming them for Arma’s face. But she was too quick, avoiding every blow with a well-timed duck or dodge.
“Stand still!” the large man ordered.
Complying with his demands, Arma said, “All right, then,” and stood her ground. She caught the much larger fists in her own palms as he dealt her a left hook and a jab. She responded by using his fists to push back with her hands while kicking straight up into Lance’s chin, the momentum carrying all the way until she completed a full back flip.
The guys let out empathetic groans as they watched Lance fall, but he was able to catch himself before hitting the floor. He turned to face Arma, all but forgetting about footwork and timing, and lunged for her. “I’m gonna KILL YOU!”
Arma sidestepped the juggernaut, using his own weight to throw him over her hip, and as his back hit the floor she immediately locked her legs around his neck.
“Give up?” she asked while grappling with his leg.
The larger man looked up over the ropes and saw Bones peering down at him. His body shook as his emotions completely took over. “Shut up and FIGHT!”
Though Arma was strong, her weight wasn’t enough to hold down the man. He threw her off and decided to change tactics; rather than being a boxer, he’d now try her level of free-for-all fighting and became a wrestler.
Lance threw himself onto his opponent as she tried to stand, but was startled to find that she could fully support his weight. I’ve gotta be twice this kid’s size!
Without another thought, Lance was thrown into the post at the opposite end of the ring. Wearily, he opened his eyes, terrified to find Arma was heading right for him.
Taking a running leap, Arma stuck her leg out, ready to end the fight with a powerful blow to the face.... “What am I DOING?!” she shouted in the middle of the air. An attack like that, especially from the Guardian of War, could kill a human being, no matter how tough Lance was! How could she forget who she was dealing with?!
Changing plans mid-flight, Arma at the last minute pulled in her foot and spread her legs, landing with both knees on either side of Lance’s head, her crotch pressed firmly under Lance’s nose. The ropes around the ring shook terribly as the post struggled to stay in one piece.
Sweat rolled off both fighters’ faces, the arena silent as the crowd waited for someone to make a move.
Arma held her breath as Lance’s googly eyes traveled down her body and to her crotch, where a great realization came over him.
“Hey!” he said, his voice muffled under her shorts. “You’re not a--”
Arma put on a nervous smile. “Goodnight!” With a quick jerk from her right thigh, Lance’s neck made a popping sound before his eyes rolled back and his lids shut. Though virtually unharmed, Lance was out.
The basement went quiet as Arma stood, a few men coming with smelling salts to drag the unconscious Lance out of the ring. Out of the silence came a slow, steady. With a look of pure satisfaction, Bones held up his hand. “Arma wins.” The large man slipped between the ropes, making Arma’s heart race with uncertainty.”If it’s all right,” he said, advancing toward the center. “I’d like to be next.”
Maya’s studio apartment looked something like an old-fashioned dollhouse or a European tea room. The walls were light pink, the curtains were frilly, and the bed was covered in a large, hand-made quilt.
Maris admired the handiwork of the flowery quilt as Maya, with help from Vesta, brought over a tiered stand with three trays of baked goods and chocolate covered strawberries.
A round table with a long cloth sat in the middle of the room as the apartment’s centerpiece, and Maya had the girls gather around it. “I baked these scones yesterday, so they may be a little hard, but the cake is from this morning and still warm. Vesta, thank you so much for the recipe, dear! I made a few adjustments, I hope you don’t mind.”
Vesta shook her head as she reached for a slice of cake. “Oh, of course not!” She used her tiny dessert fork to spear the moist cake and brought it to her mouth. She looked at the fork in disbelief as she sampled the sweet dessert. “This… this was my recipe?”
Neiva poured herself some tea as Maris took a bite of cake. “Wow, Maya! This is amazing!”
Curious, Neiva took a bite of Maris’s slice and her eyes lit up. “I can’t believe it. She improved one of Vesta’s recipes.”
“Yeah…” Vesta laughed, trying to stay lighthearted. “It… it really is better than mine…”
Maya waved her hand, saying, “Oh, now, it’s not a competition! So anyway, yes, you want to know how I knew one of you had fallen. You do like chocolate strawberries, don’t you? Everyone has one, yes? They’re fresh from my garden, you know!”
Hesitantly, Vesta reached over and grabbed one of the chocolate-dipped strawberries. She took a bite, and the flavors danced across her tongue like nothing she’d experienced from a strawberry bought from the grocery store. She took another bite and slumped forward. She had never expected Maya to outshine her when it came to food preparation. Vesta finished the rest of the strawberry, wondering why she herself didn’t have a garden.
The tiny mouse Vox crawled up to the middle tier and tried to lift one of the red and brown treats, but Maya tweezed him by the base of his tail and pulled him away. “Not for you, little mousy.”
Clearing her throat, Maya picked up a strawberry and held it out in front of the others, who by then were all licking the chocolate off of their fingertips. “There’s no way I could possibly explain this to you in terms that would satisfy you, but plants, as you know, come from seeds. This beautiful strawberry came from a seed, just as you did.”
“By seed, are you perhaps referring to a human sperm?” asked Neiva. She rolled her eyes when Kali began to snicker. “
“Oh, no, I mean a seed. A nut. Amiga nucleus.”
The group looked toward Neiva for answers, but she just shrugged.
Maya stirred sugar into her tea and chuckled. “Pardon my Latin. A soul seed.”
The girls exchanged looks before Lamia spoke. “A soul seed? You’re saying you grew us from plants?”
“Oh-ho-ho, don’t be ridiculous!” She took a sip of tea and exhaled. “Only your souls.”
One of the girls dropped her fork, and the clattering against the ceramic plates rang against the silence.
Lamia pushed her chair back. “Soul seeds? Soul seeds!?”
Maya buttered a scone. “I’m not sure what all the fuss is about. I’m an Aeon, I represent Life, and I am the spirit of the world’s Flora. Oh, Ora, sweetheart, put some jam on that cookie, you won’t know what hit you!”
Lamia took a step toward Maya. “No! Don’t change the subject! Those plants you had for Maris and them… you said those would give them their memories back!”
Maya was having a difficult time understanding the source of Lamia’s fury. “Yes, of course. A large portion of a person’s soul is, as you can guess, their memories. That goes without saying. The remaining portion of one’s soul is harder to explain, but it includes will and, of course, life. Every living organism has a soul, but the soul of a mushroom is going to be slightly less advanced than the soul of a dog which, in turn, is not as complex as the human soul.”
A tea saucer went crashing to the floor as Maris scooted her chair away from the table. Her eyes were wide and her lip quivered. “My plant… was my soul?”
Maya nodded. “To some degree, yes. More like, your soul was being incubated inside the plant. When you die, your soul is released from your body and finds its way to me, where it is locked inside a shell and preserved. The damaged soul is mended and incubated until the plant receives the right amount of photogenic energy.”
Seeing the looks of horror on the girls’ faces, Vox cleared his throat and decided to step in. “What the Mother means is, you may be reborn as long as Terra Maya is alive to preserve your souls. Your bodies are completely mortal, but your souls--”
“It’s like recycling!” Maya jumped back in at this point, and Vox put his paw to his forehead in disbelief. Maya wasn’t very good at choosing her words sometimes. She continued, “But if anything should happen to your flower prior to a night with a full moon, your soul will be released and you will perish.”
Maris brought her hands up to her mouth and fought the urge to vomit. She had nearly been responsible for the death of Kali. If she’d smashed her plant as she’d planned, she wouldn’t have destroyed Kali’s memories of being a Guardian; she would have destroyed the core of her existence.
Vesta realized her friend was taking the news particularly hard, and she excused herself to lead Maris to the bathroom. “Maris, don’t cry…”
The others watched until the bathroom door closed. Neiva tried to make sense of the situation. “But if you need your soul to live, how did Kali survive for so long without one?”
“I gave her strict orders to stay in her room for that very reason. The flowers give out a small pulse, and the nearer to the flower you are, the more you are able to function as a human being. You would have to leave the city for the pulse to be so weak that you’d die. Of course, the pulse isn’t strong enough to entirely return you to normal.”
Looking over at her friend Kali, Ora nodded understandingly. “That’s why… Kali and Maris didn’t quite seem like their old selves…”
“Precisely. See? You girls can trust me. You came to my doorstep wielding mental pitchforks and torches, but I spoke to you willingly, didn’t I?”
Lamia and Neiva stood, with Kali holding up her fork as if threatening to spear Maya. The girls were furious as Lamia spoke. “Trust? You think you’ve now earned our trust or something?”
A thud from behind the bathroom door momentarily took everyone’s attention off of Maya as Vesta barreled through. “You guys, Maris! She’s… she’s…” Vesta’s eyes closed as she fell forward and hit the soft white carpet. Ora stood, but quickly grabbed her head as her own body began to feel woozy.
Kali tried to catch Ora before she fell, but her own vision had gone blurry. She looked over at Maya, raised her fork, but dropped it as she lost feeling in her limbs. “Lying… bitch…!”
As Kali struggled to stay conscious, Maya took a sip of her tea, glaring down at the other blond with contempt. “Lying? At what time have I ever lied to any of you girls? Withholding information and changing facts are not the same thing.”
“You… you can’t just… harvest our souls!” Neiva shouted as she slumped back down into her chair.
Maya took a lump of sugar and stirred it into a fresh cup of tea. “What a sad world we live in where a deity’s disciples second guess everything she does. Have you no sense of faith? Can you not blindly follow my words? Do you have any concept of how long I’ve been around?” She brought the cup to her lips as Neiva shut her eyes. She glared over the brim of her cup and glared at Lamia, who in turn gave the aeon a piercing look. “If the strings on my marionettes get cut, I simply thread in a new string. I don’t replace the doll itself. That puppet should be grateful I’ve given it another opportunity to dance rather than spur the puppet master’s very existence.”
Lamia felt her knees weakening. “We’re not your playthings…”
“You are my instruments, Lamia. This is a truth. Today I decided to test your faith and trust in me by divulging one or two secrets, and what did you do? You condemned me, even though I had no obligation to explain myself to you. From this failed experiment, I now know to continue relaying only the vaguest of details to-”
“Your Highness?”
Maya looked over at Vox. “What?”
Vox pointed down at Lamia, who was now asleep on the floor. “The strawberries, was it?”
“Actually, it was the chocolate.” Maya set her tea cup down and stood, stepping over the fallen, sleeping figures of her Guardians as she cleared the table. “Silly me, I think I’ve said too much.”
“It does appear to have been building up for a while,” Vox agreed. “You can’t expect them to fully understand the things you do to keep life afloat in these troubling times. I wouldn’t blame them if I were you. They aren’t capable of the same level of comprehension as you and I. One of the many flaws of mankind.”
Maya sighed as she turned on the faucet over her sink. “There are people in this world who blindly follow the guidelines of their religion, never second-guessing where they come from or their purposes. Why can’t all of my girls be that way?”
Vox patted Neiva’s limp arm and hummed to himself. “Well, I’m not sure drugging them is going to buy their trust.”
“The serum I gave them will make them forget the details of today. They will remember coming here, they will vaguely remember that I answered their questions, and they will believe whatever answer they received was satisfactory. It’s a pleasant drug, and when they wake up in an hour they’ll feel refreshed and content.”
Vox wasn’t sure if he could picture Lamia’s satisfaction, but he said nothing. He walked over to a scone and nibbled on the hard bread. “As long as they follow you, their efforts will be rewarded.”
“Certainly.”
“And… I will be rewarded too, yes?”
Maya smiled. “I have not forgotten my promise to you, Dominus Vox. Your service over the years has been greatly appreciated.”
The little mouse’s tail whipped happily. “If the Guardians knew you as I knew you, they would follow you over the edge of the world. Perhaps you could delicately invite them into your private world so they could, one day, understand your motives.”
With a forlorn expression, Maya shook her head. “No, Vox. I don’t believe they would. I believe if I ever revealed my ultimate objective, my Guardians would not choose to serve me.”
Vox didn’t know what to say. He wanted to encourage Maya to trust the Guardians in order to gain their trust, but a small part of him knew that what Maya said was probably true. This acceptance pained the aeon, and Vox struggled to find a way to comfort her.
“Vox?”
“Yes, Mother?”
“Can you teleport them home when I’m finished?”
Vox looked confused. “Finished? Finished with what?”
Maya lifted up a magic marker and unscrewed the cap. “Drawing mustaches on their faces.”
Once again, Vox had to sympathize with the Guardians from time to time; he didn’t really blame them for not trusting Maya when she was prone to doing things like this.
The wind very gently scooped up a small pile of fallen leaves and swept them across the walkway in front of the old school, where Ora sat alone, gathering her thoughts as she tried to explain to herself what had taken place in the last twenty-four hours of her life.
She took a deep breath and released the air inside her lungs, and once the moist, hot air mixed with the crisp winter air it became a visible puff before quickly dissipating.
“Why am I alive?”
Ora’s ear twitched as she heard faint crunching footsteps grow louder. Someone had come outside to join her.
The bench beneath Ora’s body shook as a pair of combat boots took the spot next to her. “There you are, Ora! We’re ready to go.”
“Hey, Kali…”
Kali let her rear hit the bench with a thud, shivering as she hurriedly tried to button her army jacket and adjust her knit hat so it covered her ears, which had been studded with three piercings each. Kali’s fashion sense was vastly different from the more withdrawn little girl she once shared a body with, bordering along the lines of punk and skater girl.
Ora noticed Kali wore a chain around her neck with a key dangling at the end. She smiled. “That wasn’t meant to be a necklace.”
“I wanna make sure I don’t lose my present, that’s all.”
“It’s just your own copy of the key to the school,” Ora blushed.
Kali held the key in her hand and lifted it up to look at it. It was nothing special on the outside, but to Kali it was a symbol of finally finding where she belonged. At last, she had a home that welcomed her with open arms. “Maybe I’ll start a key collection, I dunno. Go all Ben Franklin on everyone. All I need now is a kite.”
The two looked back toward the school as Lamia, Maris, Vesta, and Neiva filed outside in their winter clothes. Ora squinted as she counted their numbers again. “Where’s Arma?”
Arma pivoted, grunting as her right shin collided with the red bag of sand. “HYAA!”
“Hey, new guy!” shouted a voice behind her. A man wearing gloves and shorts was shadow boxing against the gym wall, its white paint peeling under a spread of aging posters featuring great boxers of the past.
Arma inhaled the gritty air, foul with sweat and blood, before facing the boxer. “Sorry, is my time up?”
The boxer wiped his scruffy scalp, nodding. “Da fighters come in ‘bout dis time, ‘n’ dey’ll be wantin’ da good bag. You kin use dat one.”
Nodding, Arma tightened the hood on her sweatshirt and moved to the other side of the gym, where older equipment was spread out for rookie fighters. She took a sip from her water bottle and gasped as the stale, hot air made her long for a cooler. Though many of the men at the gym wore tank tops and shorts, Arma covered herself head to toe with thick cotton sweats. The last place she wanted her true gender to be discovered at was a men-only boxing gym in a shady area downtown. She was grateful for the business card Ora had given her, however the girl had obtained it, but she wasn’t sure how long she could go without being discovered.
School was one thing, but boxing was a contact sport.
Arma stood in front of a beat-up black, heavy bag that was suspended from the ceiling and looked as though it was ready to retire any day now.
Kneeing the bag a few times, Arma thought of the face Lamia would make when she realized Arma had snuck out of the house to train at five in the morning on a Saturday. You must be working on your masters in barbarism!
She steadied the bag a moment and sighed. Arma had hoped that training in her regular body would strengthen her Guardian form. After what had happened the previous night, she wasn’t sure she really was strong enough to go up against Boniface and his team of Guardians.
Arma and the others had been naïve; it was entirely logical that Pistis Sophia would have her own clan of warriors. If she hadn’t kept what happened between her and Boniface a secret, maybe her team would have been better prepared.
“HA!” The bag spilled open, sand flooding out the side and toppling over into a pile on the floor. Arma stepped back, laughing nervously as the men gathered around her. “I can pay for that...”
A man of small stature, though obviously a well-respected figure in the old gym, pushed his way through the taller men and cursed the redhead into submission. “Dammit, kid, that’s the second time this mornin’! Quit trashin’ my equipment!”
“I know, Frank, and I’ll try harder next time not to--”
The tiny man took out his cigarette and puffed a ring of smoke up into Arma’s face. As she coughed, the man felt the edges of the torn punching bag. He lowered his voice as he grabbed Arma by the shirt and brought her down to his level. “Arma, right? Look kid, I said ya could train here if you stayed out of our ways, yeah? I can’t use ya in da ring ‘cause I don’t do lightweights. But if ya don’t respect my stuff, and if ya don’t get everyone’s towels, you’re just gonna be in da way. Duke needs his hands wrapped, so get to it.”
The condition for Arma to train for free at the gym was her promise to wait on boxers like a servant. She got them fresh water, she laid out their towels, and she gave up whatever equipment she was using if a regular told her to beat it, no questions asked.
A tall, dark figure, whose head looked like a shiny grape on top of a sack of potatoes, stepped forward. He smirked and pointed down at Arma. “Hey Frank, let me have a go with this twerp. He needs to learn some respect.”
Frank puffed on his cigarette and shook his head. “No way, Lance. This kid’s about fifty pounds under your class.”
Arma puffed out her cheeks but didn’t say anything. Being new to boxing, she didn’t understand why there was a separation between heavyweights and lightweights. As far as she was concerned, Lance looked like a pushover.
Lance laughed heartily. “That bag was wearing thin anyway. My grandmother could have knocked the sand out-you’re just some high school small fry wanting to get back at some bullies, make himself look all tough by takin’ up fighting. Well, puss, here’s your chance to be a real man!” And saying this, Lance flexed his body, his pecs hardening and arms bulging to the point where Arma was certain the little head grape would be squished between shoulder spuds.
Lance continued. “Why don’t you take off that stupid sweatshirt, eh? Show us what you’re packin’!”
Arma clutched her hoody, her eyes darting from fighter to fighter. She wore a tank top underneath, but she wasn’t about to compare her body to the real men. Of course, Lance was entirely off base when it came to the reasons Arma was shy about her body.
The large man grabbed Arma by her hoody and lifted her up as some of the other fighters tried to talk him down. “He’s a chump! I’ll put him down after I’ve warmed up a bit.”
A heavyset fighter decided to join in the heckling and grabbed one of Arma’s dangling legs. “Ha! These feel like girls’ legs! I wanna see ‘em!”
Frank slinked back away from the crowd and headed for his office. He panted as he took the baseball bat hanging from his wall off the hook before dashing back out to the main area. He did not see a man coming toward him from the left, and the two collided.
The frailer, considerably smaller trainer looked up, about to give the jerk who ran into him a good wailing, when he stopped. He swallowed, and his jowls slipped into an apologetic grin. “Heh heh, sorry, Bones. Didn’t see ya--”
“What’s going on?”
Frank used the bat to help him stand back up. “Those brain-dead schmucks are gonna knock the new kid halfway to kingdom come before he’s even signed the health waiver. If he gets hurt, I’m in legal shit up to my ears!”
The man took a long drawl from his cigar and adjusted a large cowboy hat that sat over his brow. “I got this.” Frank looked relieved as the man, “Bones”, walked across the gym in his brown leather jacket and snakeskin boots, his slow footsteps somehow louder than the commotion coming from the group of laughing jocks.
Conflicted, Arma didn’t know what to do. She struggled to keep her pants on as two of the men ganged up on her, howling as she squirmed against the wall. She couldn’t wiggle out of her sweatshirt and run for it because they’d probably notice that, though small, she had breasts rather than pectoral muscles. At the same time, she wasn’t confident she’d be able to control her strength enough to knock them around a bit without seriously hurting someone. “Leave me alone!”
With his attention on Arma, Lance had failed to notice the man approaching him from behind. When the burning end of a cigar was forcefully pushed into the back of his shiny skull, he dropped Arma with a shriek, falling do the floor with his hands over his neck.
“Goddamn! Who did that? Huh? Who the hell-” Lance’s voice became a squeak. “B-Bones!”
The other men backed away just in case Bones felt the urge to pulverize Lance.
Bones stared at the butt of his cigar with mild annoyance. That had been his last cigar. His green eyes flitted over to the redhead in sweats, and though he didn’t recognize her at first, once he did he fought the urge to throw back his head and laugh. He remained stone-faced, anticipating the look on Arma’s face when her eyes would meet his.
Arma rubbed her shoulder and looked up, and once the identity of the man who saved her sank in, her body began to shake.
Boniface…
For Boniface, it was the look he’d been waiting for. He allowed himself a faint grin before flicking the remains of his cigar to the floor. “I got a hundred bucks that says this kid could take you in one round.”
It didn’t matter that the undefeated local champion had said this, Lance balked at Bones’s wager. “Hey, I was just kidding around, man. I’m not gonna be responsible for the death of some snot-nosed kid.”
Arma began to sweat. Of all the times and all the places to run into her mortal enemy-she certain this rugged man was Boniface, but wouldn’t he rather take her instead. What was he thinking?
Frank ran up behind Bones and shook his head. “No, no! I’m liable if he gets hurt!”
“All right, how about this? If Arma can’t last a full minute without getting hit, I’ll jump in after the first swing and stop the fight. We stop the fight and she…”
Arma gulped.
Bones smirked. “And he steps out of the ring and leaves the gym, never to return. However, Arma gets to stay, and Arma gets to train as a regular fighter, if she can knock Lance on his ass within the first fifteen seconds.”
The other men laughed, and Frank patted Bones on the back as he chuckled and wiped away a tear. “Sure, sure, I’ll sign him on the spot if he takes Lance down at all. I’ll even train him myself.”
With a firm grip, Bones reached over and pulled Arma up by her arm, and she was amazed at how his fingers easily wrapped the full diameter of her upper arm. She gritted her teeth as he forcefully pushed her toward the basement stairs, with Lance hesitantly following behind.
Herbs and Chinese medicines lined the shelves of the tiny corner store. Maya, in her white lab coat, glasses, and with her hair pulled up, sat at a desk with a prescription bottle in hand, her other holding a pen to write down directions on a tiny label just large enough to cover the bottle of pills. She glanced up at the sound of the front door bells jingling and put on her best smile.
“Mrs. Haversham? Your prescription is almost ready, if you’d just-”
Maya’s smile faltered. It wasn’t Mrs. Haversham running early; Lamia and Neiva entered, with Kali squeezing between them to rush forward. Behind them, Vesta, Maris, and Ora reluctantly followed.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” asked Maya.
“Got a bone to pick with you, Blondie,” snorted Kali.
Maya pushed up her glasses, examining the group quietly as she tried to pretend she hadn’t a clue what they could possibly be referring to. “I don’t recall telling you the location of my little shop.”
Kali reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small jar. She unscrewed the top, reached in, and grabbed a tiny ball of gray fur she then presented to Maya. “Tada. You were ratted out.”
Vox, who looked like he had taken quite a beating inside his glass chamber, kept his eyes lowered. “They overpowered me.”
Maya chuckled. “And you didn’t just teleport away?”
“We threatened not to buy him cheese for a month,” said Lamia, rather proud of herself. “He came willingly, but just in case we threw him in a jar.”
Maris put her hands in her pockets and sighed. “Sorry, Maya. They insisted we come talk to you about last night…”
A tapping sound against the glass door signaled an elderly woman was attempting to push through the barrier or women. “Dr. Lafleur! Do you have my prescription ready?”
Kali tried to shoo the old woman away. “Buzz off, granny! Dr. La Floor is busy!”
Maya gave a rare show of agitation and promptly took the woman’s prescription, walked around the front counter, and handed the pills to the old woman. “Mrs. Haversham, please forgive my… niece… Oh, and tell George he needs to come by tomorrow for his refill.”
Maya took the woman’s payment, waved goodbye, closed the door, and turned the sign on the front around so that it read “closed”. She pocketed the money and spun around on her heel, glaring down at Kali in silent irritation. “That was inappropriate.”
Gulping, Kali backed away slightly before backing into Lamia and Neiva, who urged her not to lose courage. Nodding, Kali faced Maya and asked, “How’d you know about Ora last night?”
Feigning a show of ignorance, Maya walked over to her register and placed the money inside. “Well, Kali, I’m afraid to tell you this but most of the town knows what happened. A tornado, wink-wink, took out the news tower, which I must admit is something of a relief for me since now all we’ve got to deal with is the local newspaper finding out about us. Oh, but print is so much easier to avoid than video footage, I should think, so really that storm-”
Ora spoke up. “Maya, how’d you know I died?”
Maya went silent.
Ora continued. “Everyone said you just showed up with a flower ready for me. But you weren’t at the fight. You didn’t know…”
With a much softer expression than before, Maya lifted the counter guard and motioned for everyone to follow her through a door behind the register. “I think we need some cake and strawberries, don’t you?”
Everyone in the gym had stopped training to gather around the boxing ring downstairs. The lights flickered off and on, leaving a fairly dull light source for the two fighters and their crowd of curious observers. Frank was taking bets, still not entirely certain Bones had his head on straight. Bones, acting as the official referee, watched from along the ropes outside of the ring, arms crossed, the brim of his hat casting a shadow that concealed most of his face.
Lance climbed into the ring and raised his arms, soaking in all the cheers and applause from his supporters. He threw off his tank top and flexed, signaling for more shouts of approval.
Arma had also taken off her sweat clothes, knowing she’d want to have as much freedom for movement as possible. She was risking having her true gender discovered, but figured the poor lighting made it worth taking a chance. Besides, she thought, she’d make it quick.
“I’m tellin’ ya, Bones,” shouted Frank. “The kid isn’t ready for the ring. He doesn’t know the rules yet!”
Lance cracked his neck, rolling his head around on his shoulders and laughing as Arma approached him in the center of the ring. “Is that true, twerp? Fine, how about this. No rules, just go right for a knock-out. I’d be impressed if you could last three rounds on your feet with me, so you can use whatever tricks you can come up with.”
Arma thought a moment. “No rules?”
“Okay, no biting.”
“Hey,” Bones called out from the side. “Go easy on the chump, okay?”
Lance gave Bones a thumbs up sign. “I’m just gonna give him a good scare, man. Don’t worry.”
Bones smirked. “I wasn’t talking to you, Lance.”
Before Lance had a chance to process this, the bell sounded, and he raised a heavy fist for the first strike, which he hoped would be an instant knockout. In the blink of an eye, he found himself on the hard ground. Arma had dropped to her feet and kicked his legs away before springing backwards and landing on her feet again. Lance was dumbfounded, but when he looked up he was met with a playful wink from his opponent.
“Anything goes, right?”
Furious, Lance charged forward, swinging his fists and aiming them for Arma’s face. But she was too quick, avoiding every blow with a well-timed duck or dodge.
“Stand still!” the large man ordered.
Complying with his demands, Arma said, “All right, then,” and stood her ground. She caught the much larger fists in her own palms as he dealt her a left hook and a jab. She responded by using his fists to push back with her hands while kicking straight up into Lance’s chin, the momentum carrying all the way until she completed a full back flip.
The guys let out empathetic groans as they watched Lance fall, but he was able to catch himself before hitting the floor. He turned to face Arma, all but forgetting about footwork and timing, and lunged for her. “I’m gonna KILL YOU!”
Arma sidestepped the juggernaut, using his own weight to throw him over her hip, and as his back hit the floor she immediately locked her legs around his neck.
“Give up?” she asked while grappling with his leg.
The larger man looked up over the ropes and saw Bones peering down at him. His body shook as his emotions completely took over. “Shut up and FIGHT!”
Though Arma was strong, her weight wasn’t enough to hold down the man. He threw her off and decided to change tactics; rather than being a boxer, he’d now try her level of free-for-all fighting and became a wrestler.
Lance threw himself onto his opponent as she tried to stand, but was startled to find that she could fully support his weight. I’ve gotta be twice this kid’s size!
Without another thought, Lance was thrown into the post at the opposite end of the ring. Wearily, he opened his eyes, terrified to find Arma was heading right for him.
Taking a running leap, Arma stuck her leg out, ready to end the fight with a powerful blow to the face.... “What am I DOING?!” she shouted in the middle of the air. An attack like that, especially from the Guardian of War, could kill a human being, no matter how tough Lance was! How could she forget who she was dealing with?!
Changing plans mid-flight, Arma at the last minute pulled in her foot and spread her legs, landing with both knees on either side of Lance’s head, her crotch pressed firmly under Lance’s nose. The ropes around the ring shook terribly as the post struggled to stay in one piece.
Sweat rolled off both fighters’ faces, the arena silent as the crowd waited for someone to make a move.
Arma held her breath as Lance’s googly eyes traveled down her body and to her crotch, where a great realization came over him.
“Hey!” he said, his voice muffled under her shorts. “You’re not a--”
Arma put on a nervous smile. “Goodnight!” With a quick jerk from her right thigh, Lance’s neck made a popping sound before his eyes rolled back and his lids shut. Though virtually unharmed, Lance was out.
The basement went quiet as Arma stood, a few men coming with smelling salts to drag the unconscious Lance out of the ring. Out of the silence came a slow, steady. With a look of pure satisfaction, Bones held up his hand. “Arma wins.” The large man slipped between the ropes, making Arma’s heart race with uncertainty.”If it’s all right,” he said, advancing toward the center. “I’d like to be next.”
Maya’s studio apartment looked something like an old-fashioned dollhouse or a European tea room. The walls were light pink, the curtains were frilly, and the bed was covered in a large, hand-made quilt.
Maris admired the handiwork of the flowery quilt as Maya, with help from Vesta, brought over a tiered stand with three trays of baked goods and chocolate covered strawberries.
A round table with a long cloth sat in the middle of the room as the apartment’s centerpiece, and Maya had the girls gather around it. “I baked these scones yesterday, so they may be a little hard, but the cake is from this morning and still warm. Vesta, thank you so much for the recipe, dear! I made a few adjustments, I hope you don’t mind.”
Vesta shook her head as she reached for a slice of cake. “Oh, of course not!” She used her tiny dessert fork to spear the moist cake and brought it to her mouth. She looked at the fork in disbelief as she sampled the sweet dessert. “This… this was my recipe?”
Neiva poured herself some tea as Maris took a bite of cake. “Wow, Maya! This is amazing!”
Curious, Neiva took a bite of Maris’s slice and her eyes lit up. “I can’t believe it. She improved one of Vesta’s recipes.”
“Yeah…” Vesta laughed, trying to stay lighthearted. “It… it really is better than mine…”
Maya waved her hand, saying, “Oh, now, it’s not a competition! So anyway, yes, you want to know how I knew one of you had fallen. You do like chocolate strawberries, don’t you? Everyone has one, yes? They’re fresh from my garden, you know!”
Hesitantly, Vesta reached over and grabbed one of the chocolate-dipped strawberries. She took a bite, and the flavors danced across her tongue like nothing she’d experienced from a strawberry bought from the grocery store. She took another bite and slumped forward. She had never expected Maya to outshine her when it came to food preparation. Vesta finished the rest of the strawberry, wondering why she herself didn’t have a garden.
The tiny mouse Vox crawled up to the middle tier and tried to lift one of the red and brown treats, but Maya tweezed him by the base of his tail and pulled him away. “Not for you, little mousy.”
Clearing her throat, Maya picked up a strawberry and held it out in front of the others, who by then were all licking the chocolate off of their fingertips. “There’s no way I could possibly explain this to you in terms that would satisfy you, but plants, as you know, come from seeds. This beautiful strawberry came from a seed, just as you did.”
“By seed, are you perhaps referring to a human sperm?” asked Neiva. She rolled her eyes when Kali began to snicker. “
“Oh, no, I mean a seed. A nut. Amiga nucleus.”
The group looked toward Neiva for answers, but she just shrugged.
Maya stirred sugar into her tea and chuckled. “Pardon my Latin. A soul seed.”
The girls exchanged looks before Lamia spoke. “A soul seed? You’re saying you grew us from plants?”
“Oh-ho-ho, don’t be ridiculous!” She took a sip of tea and exhaled. “Only your souls.”
One of the girls dropped her fork, and the clattering against the ceramic plates rang against the silence.
Lamia pushed her chair back. “Soul seeds? Soul seeds!?”
Maya buttered a scone. “I’m not sure what all the fuss is about. I’m an Aeon, I represent Life, and I am the spirit of the world’s Flora. Oh, Ora, sweetheart, put some jam on that cookie, you won’t know what hit you!”
Lamia took a step toward Maya. “No! Don’t change the subject! Those plants you had for Maris and them… you said those would give them their memories back!”
Maya was having a difficult time understanding the source of Lamia’s fury. “Yes, of course. A large portion of a person’s soul is, as you can guess, their memories. That goes without saying. The remaining portion of one’s soul is harder to explain, but it includes will and, of course, life. Every living organism has a soul, but the soul of a mushroom is going to be slightly less advanced than the soul of a dog which, in turn, is not as complex as the human soul.”
A tea saucer went crashing to the floor as Maris scooted her chair away from the table. Her eyes were wide and her lip quivered. “My plant… was my soul?”
Maya nodded. “To some degree, yes. More like, your soul was being incubated inside the plant. When you die, your soul is released from your body and finds its way to me, where it is locked inside a shell and preserved. The damaged soul is mended and incubated until the plant receives the right amount of photogenic energy.”
Seeing the looks of horror on the girls’ faces, Vox cleared his throat and decided to step in. “What the Mother means is, you may be reborn as long as Terra Maya is alive to preserve your souls. Your bodies are completely mortal, but your souls--”
“It’s like recycling!” Maya jumped back in at this point, and Vox put his paw to his forehead in disbelief. Maya wasn’t very good at choosing her words sometimes. She continued, “But if anything should happen to your flower prior to a night with a full moon, your soul will be released and you will perish.”
Maris brought her hands up to her mouth and fought the urge to vomit. She had nearly been responsible for the death of Kali. If she’d smashed her plant as she’d planned, she wouldn’t have destroyed Kali’s memories of being a Guardian; she would have destroyed the core of her existence.
Vesta realized her friend was taking the news particularly hard, and she excused herself to lead Maris to the bathroom. “Maris, don’t cry…”
The others watched until the bathroom door closed. Neiva tried to make sense of the situation. “But if you need your soul to live, how did Kali survive for so long without one?”
“I gave her strict orders to stay in her room for that very reason. The flowers give out a small pulse, and the nearer to the flower you are, the more you are able to function as a human being. You would have to leave the city for the pulse to be so weak that you’d die. Of course, the pulse isn’t strong enough to entirely return you to normal.”
Looking over at her friend Kali, Ora nodded understandingly. “That’s why… Kali and Maris didn’t quite seem like their old selves…”
“Precisely. See? You girls can trust me. You came to my doorstep wielding mental pitchforks and torches, but I spoke to you willingly, didn’t I?”
Lamia and Neiva stood, with Kali holding up her fork as if threatening to spear Maya. The girls were furious as Lamia spoke. “Trust? You think you’ve now earned our trust or something?”
A thud from behind the bathroom door momentarily took everyone’s attention off of Maya as Vesta barreled through. “You guys, Maris! She’s… she’s…” Vesta’s eyes closed as she fell forward and hit the soft white carpet. Ora stood, but quickly grabbed her head as her own body began to feel woozy.
Kali tried to catch Ora before she fell, but her own vision had gone blurry. She looked over at Maya, raised her fork, but dropped it as she lost feeling in her limbs. “Lying… bitch…!”
As Kali struggled to stay conscious, Maya took a sip of her tea, glaring down at the other blond with contempt. “Lying? At what time have I ever lied to any of you girls? Withholding information and changing facts are not the same thing.”
“You… you can’t just… harvest our souls!” Neiva shouted as she slumped back down into her chair.
Maya took a lump of sugar and stirred it into a fresh cup of tea. “What a sad world we live in where a deity’s disciples second guess everything she does. Have you no sense of faith? Can you not blindly follow my words? Do you have any concept of how long I’ve been around?” She brought the cup to her lips as Neiva shut her eyes. She glared over the brim of her cup and glared at Lamia, who in turn gave the aeon a piercing look. “If the strings on my marionettes get cut, I simply thread in a new string. I don’t replace the doll itself. That puppet should be grateful I’ve given it another opportunity to dance rather than spur the puppet master’s very existence.”
Lamia felt her knees weakening. “We’re not your playthings…”
“You are my instruments, Lamia. This is a truth. Today I decided to test your faith and trust in me by divulging one or two secrets, and what did you do? You condemned me, even though I had no obligation to explain myself to you. From this failed experiment, I now know to continue relaying only the vaguest of details to-”
“Your Highness?”
Maya looked over at Vox. “What?”
Vox pointed down at Lamia, who was now asleep on the floor. “The strawberries, was it?”
“Actually, it was the chocolate.” Maya set her tea cup down and stood, stepping over the fallen, sleeping figures of her Guardians as she cleared the table. “Silly me, I think I’ve said too much.”
“It does appear to have been building up for a while,” Vox agreed. “You can’t expect them to fully understand the things you do to keep life afloat in these troubling times. I wouldn’t blame them if I were you. They aren’t capable of the same level of comprehension as you and I. One of the many flaws of mankind.”
Maya sighed as she turned on the faucet over her sink. “There are people in this world who blindly follow the guidelines of their religion, never second-guessing where they come from or their purposes. Why can’t all of my girls be that way?”
Vox patted Neiva’s limp arm and hummed to himself. “Well, I’m not sure drugging them is going to buy their trust.”
“The serum I gave them will make them forget the details of today. They will remember coming here, they will vaguely remember that I answered their questions, and they will believe whatever answer they received was satisfactory. It’s a pleasant drug, and when they wake up in an hour they’ll feel refreshed and content.”
Vox wasn’t sure if he could picture Lamia’s satisfaction, but he said nothing. He walked over to a scone and nibbled on the hard bread. “As long as they follow you, their efforts will be rewarded.”
“Certainly.”
“And… I will be rewarded too, yes?”
Maya smiled. “I have not forgotten my promise to you, Dominus Vox. Your service over the years has been greatly appreciated.”
The little mouse’s tail whipped happily. “If the Guardians knew you as I knew you, they would follow you over the edge of the world. Perhaps you could delicately invite them into your private world so they could, one day, understand your motives.”
With a forlorn expression, Maya shook her head. “No, Vox. I don’t believe they would. I believe if I ever revealed my ultimate objective, my Guardians would not choose to serve me.”
Vox didn’t know what to say. He wanted to encourage Maya to trust the Guardians in order to gain their trust, but a small part of him knew that what Maya said was probably true. This acceptance pained the aeon, and Vox struggled to find a way to comfort her.
“Vox?”
“Yes, Mother?”
“Can you teleport them home when I’m finished?”
Vox looked confused. “Finished? Finished with what?”
Maya lifted up a magic marker and unscrewed the cap. “Drawing mustaches on their faces.”
Once again, Vox had to sympathize with the Guardians from time to time; he didn’t really blame them for not trusting Maya when she was prone to doing things like this.