Page 27 of The Phoenix

“Compatible? You could call it that.” Fin elbowed Margo while the others chuckled.

“Go on,” said Lizette. “This is interesting stuff. It would have been dynamite when I was on the air.” Before she had been kidnapped by Cerberus’s guys, she was a radio talk show psychologist in New York. Very popular.

Celene shifted in her seat. “Apparently, Ohngel gets bent out of shape with her royal bitchiness. He starts working with the Cambion, talking him into gathering the Blood Coven to create Scath and Darque. With the Aeternals in their own realm, they could get their shit together and stop massacring humans.”

Jace curled a leg under herself on the sofa. “Of course, every good story has a betrayal. The Cambion screws Niviane, one of his witches, proving once again sex in the workplace doesn’t pay off.”

“I don’t know. It worked out for Ram and Denim.” Indigo grinned, clinking her glass against Lizette’s.

Denim saluted with her wine held high.

Jace chuckled. “This Niviane has a baby. She sends it off to Scath even though the coven and their offspring were ordered to remain on Earth since they could be used to destroy the portals and Whorl. If destroyed, real world-ending shit would happen.”

“I’m in.” Margo swallowed a sip of wine. “Start the read.”

“I’ll begin with the preface.” Jace cleared her throat.

Weary from a lengthy truth-seeking journey, I, the Cambion from Wales, rested beside a late evening fire after finishing a meager repast. A nightchat flew from the trees, singing. The warbler-like bird trilled, chirped, and whistled, its raspy notes a message from Ohngel, the fire-winged assassin of the OneCreator, the male I would deem prophet and friend in the coming years.

Oft thereafter, Ohngel or the prophet-warrior’s emissary, the nightchat, emerged from the thickets to tell a tale of hope, courage, caution, or enlightenment for the Aeternals placed upon this world by the Genitrix Gahya.

Jace glanced up from the page. “We’ve already summarized the first four volumes for you. So I’ll skip those parts.”

Though I believed I had completed The Path, my nightchat, for I had come to think of the creature as mine, visited one last time. It sang from moonrise to moonset. Intrigued by its narrative, I wrote Volume V: Destiny.

“More wine? More cheese?” interrupted Indigo.

Braelyn squinted at her. “Not now. We’re about to get to the meat. Keep reading.”

Jace thumbed to the first tale.

Lazing on pillows, Ohngel nursed a pounding headache from too much mead last night after the Feard celebrated their victory over a horde of demons.

But the fire-winged assassin had slipped, not only killing his captive but also slicing him into a hundred pieces. Still, he had not quenched his rage. The Feard were bloodthirsty, taking their anger out on their prey. In the last few centuries, however, Ohngel had grown increasingly vicious, needing more and more from each mission. More blood, more death, more savagery. In his downtime, he looked forward to the next hunt, his barbarity difficult to leash.

Not announcing herself, Gahya burst into his private chamber in Angor.

He closed his eyes, prepared to suffer her excited, high-pitched voice.

“I won.” The hard soles of her jewel-studded shoes tapped across the tile. She was almost skipping with delight. “My Aeternals will reign over Gabriel’s silly Homo sapiens.” She glanced above her head to his open ceiling where inky clouds rolled by. Monsoons likely by nightfall. “Tell me again why you like this place. It’s gloomy. Vast is so much brighter, more cheerful.”

“The weather in Angor fits my mood. Besides, the nightly screams of tortured souls is music to my ears.” Ohngel rose onto both elbows, squelching a grimace as agony rocketed through him. He should have stopped drinking long before the last mead. Also, perhaps four females had been too many.

Gahya, a minor goddess in Vast where everlasting sun shone on its inhabitants, was a gambler. With a winning combination of the dice, she had been granted a creation. From the aether, a bit of her soul, and the knowledge of desire, she made the Aeternals, earning the name Genitrix for herself.

The game continued. Gabriel won the next bet, creating Homo sapiens from Homo erectus and a dash of Aeternal blood.

Gahya’s beings had been immortal, though less so than the inhabitants of Vast, but the OneCreator sent a virus to end their lives early when their penchant for feeding on humans grew increasingly violent and frequent. Then he approved another roll of the dice in the continuing game of Cee-lo. Gahya and Gabriel were eager for the challenge. Ohngel had heard rumors from Vast’s grapevine. He was already aware of Gahya’s triumph last night. “Congratulations,” he snarled.

The goddess paused, finally realizing how dark his mood was. “Perhaps I should not have come.”

Ohngel drew a long breath, inhaling his anger, pushing it deep. “Do not fear me, Genitrix. I am too hung over to be dangerous.”

“Everybody knows it is wise to fear you, Ohngel.”

“You have not yet crossed me today, Gahya. You are safe. You were saying your Aeternals will dominate Gabriel’s Homo sapiens. Do you see your win as a victory?”

She erased any caution from her face. “Of course it is. I told you my creations were supreme. Perhaps you now believe me, my love.”

---