Trust in Oneself, CH 42 (Patreon)

Paul and Thomas sated smile as they exited the bedroom fell away to the sounds of arguing among tones of order giving. They hurried down the stairs and found that a crowd had built over the half hour they’d been enjoying the recharging session.

To one side, people were carrying wooden furniture to the basement, to the other men from all the families who helped were assembled around, but still giving plenty of space. A cheetah. Among Society men, Paul saw fur with green in it. As he turned to ask Thomas, the rat had his hand on the tiger’s shoulder and they were next to Denton, their appearance silencing the arguing.

“We made it through the Chamber’s defenses when I was able to cancel the forcefield,” the cheetah answered Paul’s unasked question. “But the Chamber turned it around, forcing us back until we were inside. From the thoughts I gleamed, their plan was to let those inside the house deal with us.”

“And with that not happening,” a boar said, “they are bound to try something. We need to strike first.”

“And what are they going to do?” a jackal asked dismissively. “It’s just posturing on their part. They know they lost; it’s over.”

“These are people who had the audacity to desire to kill the gods,” the lion with green in his mane said. “Do not underestimate what desperation can drive them to.”

“Then even more reason to—”

“Get accurate intel,” Denton cut the boar off. “Thomas, I hate to ask, but unless there’s something that can’t wait. It’s going to have to be you. Our precogs are being incapacitated by the Chamber, and we have too few remote sensors to get an actual picture of what they’re up to outside.”

“I’ll get on that, but about things that can’t wait. You need to put someone on Gilbert. The Chamber’s plan A was to use a nuke to activate their god killing plan. Gilbert’s the best we have to make sure it doesn’t go off, but only if he doesn’t detonate it himself, so he gets to see what the explosion looks like. He has a thing for things that go boom,” he added as Denton opened his mouth. Then the cheetah was rubbing his temple while Thomas pondered something. “Actually, the bigger danger Gilbert pauses might be him trying to smuggle that bomb back to the US to add it to his collection. Not sure how custom will deal with someone entering the country with an atomic bomb in their suitcases. Back as fast as I can.”

The rat was gone.

“Now you see what they are capable of,” the lion said.

“And we can turn that against them,” the boar said. “They can’t be stupid enough to not take that seriously. I say—”

“Enough.” The cheetah’s order came to something more. It made Paul need to pay attention and silenced the others. “We will deal with all of this one item at a time.”

The need passed, and Paul shook himself. The others seemed similarly put out, but only Paul spoke.

“Maybe I should go look in on Gilbert?” he volunteered.

The cheetah shook his head. “I need you to check in on Grant. What I’m picking up from those coming back up isn’t making much sense, but you’re already aware he has a plan. We will come up with something to keep the Chamber from swarming the mansion, but considering the numbers they represent and who we have here. I’d like whatever it is your friend is doing to be done sooner rather than later. The last thing we need is for the Chamber to have time to cobble something together that’s going to wipe us out.” He looked in the direction of the stairs leading down. “Something tells me that out of everyone here, he’d be more responsive to you.”

“Thomas would be—” Only his best friend was out gathering information. “Donal is—” the squirrel clearly wasn’t inside the mansion; he’d be in this group. Which meant he was on the other side of the Chamber. Paul didn’t bring up Niel or Roland. He had no idea where the rat was, but neither had any more claim to being close to the kangaroo than he did.

Accepting that he was the best tiger for the job, Paul made his way to the stairs and the cathedral, where he paused in the entrance.

Grant has certainly made… something. What that could be, other and modern art worthy of a museum, Paul couldn’t tell.

How the kangaroo had put this together in a little over thirty minutes could only be magic, even if Grant kept insisting woodworking was his specialty.

Wooden tendrils stretched from the central… altar? No, that wasn’t the right word for it. And to the walls, when they reached for a few of the staves. He noticed the bone feather and immediately looked away.

He stepped into the room and found Grant working on the other side of the… there was a name for it. He was more certain as he walked around it. It was…not coming to him. The name probably didn’t matter, anyway.

The kangaroo ripped a piece out of an old-looking armoire and added it to the tendril he was working on; the layering giving the wood a more… organic feel to them. Looking over his shoulder, he realized that they all had that same effect. The way Grant had built them making it look like there were muscles under the surface that had moved them to where they now rested.

“Grant?” Paul called. “Any idea how much longer? There’s a lot of Chamber out there who are up to something, and there’s concern they might do it before you’re done.”

“Won’t be long anymore.” The kangaroo stood and rubbed his back. “I’m too fucking old for this.” He looked at his work, then the two men bringing a four-poster bed that reminded Paul of the one he and Thomas had had sex in earlier.

“You can drop that there, and tell anyone else coming to bring me more I’ve got enough to finish. I’m told we might be attacked, so you and them should go see to the defenses. Paul, stay. I’m going to need someone in case a Chamber gets through the defenses.”

The golden tiger waited until the men were gone. Until the muscular me with years of training had left. Grant was now nailing wood to the side of the… Damn it. Why couldn’t the name of the thing come to him?

“That was the best excuse you could come up with?” Paul said. “That you wanted me to defend you?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Paul. You’ve stood through stuff that would break a lot of them.” He pause, hammer ready to strike. “Did break some of them.” He was hammering again. “But you’re not wrong either. I have an ulterior motive.” Finished hammering the board in silence. “I’d rather not be alone,” he said, and he considered what was left of the armoire. “And you’re better company than those strangers.”

Paul chuckled. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

“Please don’t ever lose that.” He ripped a long piece then carefully inserted it into the… Paul didn’t even bother getting annoyed at that this time.

“Lose what?”

“Humility.” Please with how it fit, the kangaroo stepped back. “We magic bunch had a bad habit of being too full of ourselves. We can do all this stuff, then we start thinking there’s nothing we can’t do. We forget we’re still just people sometimes. Then, when it comes to an end, we realize we missed a lot of the small opportunities. The things normal people probably enjoy without even thinking about it.”

Paul watched Grant build another tendril in silence. This one extending to what looked like a shield made of shattered glass. It was almost as if the wood grew from the… that thing, and to the wall, even as he watched the kangaroo attach each piece.

“Having coffee with friends,” the kangaroo said, sounding sad, once he stepped away from the new tendril. It took a second for Paul to realize he was picking up from where he’d left off. “Making friends. We’re too busy with our magic, too invested in it. We end up thinking it’s all that matters, really. We forget it’s just a tool. It’s no more important than that hammer…” he looked at the took in his hand. “I forgot that.”

He turned and smiled at Paul. “So don’t lose that. You have the privilege of coming into magic late. Of knowing what it’s like to be normal; how good those little things can be. Don’t let all this power you have access to now make you forget that.”

“Thomas learned about it late,” Paul pointed out as Grant broke one of the post from the bed over his knee and added it to the centerpiece. He might not be able to remember what it was called, but Paul knew it was the important part of this. It was what would ignite what this talisman did.

“He forgot,” the kangaroo replied flatly. “I mean, it’s understandable. His power is unique in the most unique way possible. It’s not a variation on what others do. He does the impossible; he teleports. It’s brought him fame and wealth. It’s easy to forget your roots then, and not realize you did. Try to remind him of that, once things quiet down again. Remind him it’s okay to breathe. That he can take a walk with someone he likes. That he can enjoy coffee with his friends.” Grant sighed. “I—”

“There you are,” Thomas said from the doorway, interrupting the kangaroo and stopping Paul from pointing out he thought Thomas was already thinking about those. Then the rat was next to Paul, whistling as he looked around.

“Your timing’s impeccable,” Grant said with a chuckle. “Thirty seconds earlier, and you’d be ripping me a new one.”

“What did I miss?” Thomas asked, looking from Grant to Paul.

“Grant’s bemoaning missing out on normality.” The word for it tickled the back of his mind as the kangaroo grabbed the sword off the ground.

Thomas snorted. “Well, normal can be overrated.”

Grant placed Joan of Arc’s sword and placed it on top of… he almost had it. Then he unsheathed Excalibur and reverently placed it tip to tip with the other sword. It felt like the kangaroo was laying them to rest

“A pyre,” Paul whispered. “It’s a pyre.”

Grant smiled. “I figured you’d see it.”

“See what?” Thomas asked.

“Grant, what exactly are you doing?” Paul asked.

Indecision filled the kangaroo’s eyes as he glanced to the entrance, and Paul tried to decide how hard he’d pushed back against whatever lie Grant was getting ready to tell them just so they’d leave him alone to do this.

His shoulders sagged, and he sighed. “I’m ending it.”

“And that’s good,” Thomas said. “So why do you look like you’re going to have to throw yourself off a cliff to make it happen?”

“We forget what it’s like to be ordinary, Thomas. We become too wrapped up in our staves and what they let us do, that it’s all we were. It was be one of those who had staves, or one of those who wanted them. We’re hardly people anymore.”

“You went around saving people, Grant,” Thomas said. “That’s a pretty people thing to do.”

The kangaroo shook his head. “I went around preventing the Chamber from getting their hands on more staves. The helping the Practitioner who had that staff, it was more incidental than the reason. Even you, Thomas; I didn’t set out to save Thomas Hertz. When we met, I was looking for a blossoming Practitioner because they’re be ripe for the Chamber to pick them. Only my talisman wasn’t precise enough.”

“But you kept helping me.” Uncertainty crept into the rat’s voice.

“I’m not heartless, Thomas. I just have blinders on. Had them most of my life. And that was because of my staff. What I thought it should do. What it did instead. How I expected to make up for it.” He looked at his hands. “Who I actually was.”

“Grant?” Paul didn’t like where this was going.

The kangaroo took a breath. “So I’ve redone the parameters on this place.” He motioned around. “It was meant to destroy gods, and I can’t do anything about the power involved. It’s bakes into the staff they made.” He patted the top of the pyre. “But this little thing is going to redirect all that intensity to something that will bring about a better result.”

“Grant,” Paul said again, adding a warning to his tone that had Thomas look at the tiger in surprise.

“I’m ending the Practitioners, Paul. I’m destroying every staff in existence. With this, it won’t matter where they are or how well protected. Just by existing, they’ll pull the magic to them, and they will cease to be. That was the hardest part; making them end instead of blowing up. I’d hate for my last act to bring about more death.”

“Grant, what are you talking about?” Thomas asked worriedly.

The kangaroo looked at Paul. “Have you worked out that part?”

The golden tiger shook his head.

“I’m not surprised. I didn’t, even after you basically told me. After God Wolf kept telling me. Even Wassa understood, but I was too blind.” He faced Thomas. “I’m not Grant Summer, Thomas. I’m his staff.”

Thomas motioned to the kangaroo, mouth moving wordlessly until finally. “But you’re there.”

Grant nodded. “I don’t know if I’m Grant, who absorbed the staff, or if, when I broke it, I destroyed myself and it remade itself around me. But I’m the Staff of Storms.” He paused, and a smile formed. “I’m the Staff of Hope in the Middle of the Storm.” Thunder sounded, and Grant looked more at peace than Paul had ever seen him.

“No!” Thomas yelled.

“There’d no arguing with the evidence, Thomas. It’s the only thing that explains what I can do.”

“I’m not fucking arguing about that part, asshole.” Thomas appeared before Grant, shoving him away from the pyre. “I’m not letting you commit suicide.”

“This isn’t suicide; is a sacrifice. One I need to pay to ensure the Chamber doesn’t start this again.”

“Find another way!” A shove, and Thomas blinked in front of Grant, shoving him again. “I’m not losing you!” Shove. “You’re going to be there when I give birth.” Shove. “You’re going to be god-father to my son!”

“I think there’s already a god with that claim on the position.” Grant caught Thomas in a hug. “I wish I could be there, Thomas. I would love to meet your son. But I’m not going to risk the chaos we Practitioners can bring to the world for that chance. I’m sorry; I’m just not that heartless.”

“You’re a fucking bastard; that’s what you are,” Thomas said in the kangaroo’s chest.

“I can live with that.”

“No, you won’t,” the rat replied. “You’re going to die.”

“I already died. This is just me bringing an end to something that shouldn’t have been possible.”

“No wonder you’re my best friend, too. We’re both impossible.” Thomas pushed away from Grant and wiped at his eyes.

“What kind of physical damage are we looking at here?” Paul asked, as Grant sat on the edge of the pyre. “There’s a lot of people in and around the mansion.”

“There shouldn’t be any physical damage.”

“Shouldn’t be isn’t what someone wants to hear when dealing with a power that could have destroyed gods, Grant.”

The kangaroo gave him a crooked smile. “Don’t ask a carpenter for precision when he didn’t have an hour to make this. But as I said, I built it so staves won’t explode. It should be true of this one too. There might be a disruption in the magic of the universe, but that won’t last. And it might just affect talismans.”

Thomas was next to Paul. “Are you absolutely certain there isn’t another way to do this?”

“Not one that ensures your son has a future without this kind of threat hanging over his head.”

“You’re still an asshole. How long can you give me to get everyone out?”

“Five minutes?” The kangaroo stretched next to the swords. “I mean, I’m the Staff Breaker. This isn’t happening until I do it, but I don’t want to give the Chamber time to figure out what I’m up to.”

“Five minutes.”

Paul was in the middle of the sex tent, well away from the mansion.

Thomas vanished before Paul could ask what the rat thought he was doing. When he reappeared, it was only long enough to let go of the people hanging on to him.

Paul called out to him each time, but he barely got out the start of the name. His best friend was going to kill himself doing this. The tent wasn’t a problem, with all the sex he’d had here, but he didn’t have a landing spot at the mansion.

When the cheetah appeared, Paul tried to get his attention, Get Denton to relay the warning, but he didn’t stick around any longer.

Then, what had to be over five minutes later, as far as Paul was concerned, Thomas appeared with three men and instead of shrugging them off, he collapsed to the floor.

Paul ran for him but was stopped in his track by… wrongness.

The disruption Grant predicted manifested itself in everything, for that moment, feeling wrong to Paul. Then everything was normal, and Paul rushed to see to his best friend.

Only to discover that Grant had been wrong about what he’d do not affecting the physical world. The flash of light blinded Paul and he only just stayed on his feet, but the shockwave that slammed into him took care of that, and turned the light into darkness.