Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X 1)

“No,” said Mae. He obviously hadn’t expected her to. Religion and myth weren’t taught in schools.

“Apollo’s the Greek god of light, prophecy, music, and a few other things. Artemis is his twin, goddess of the hunt, the moon, virgins—” Justin came to a stop and frowned as he studied the Greek words. “She’s also not mentioned anymore. That’s just welcoming us to the Church of Apollo.” He took out his ego to pull up a file. “Hmm. I wonder if they dropped her. This place hasn’t been inspected in almost eight months. If so, this may be a dead end since she’s our moon connection. Shit. The priestess that used to operate here is a piece of work.”

“You think she’s responsible for the murders? Because she’s linked to the moon?”

“No,” he said swiftly. “Absolutely not. That’s not her style.”

Mae frowned. “Then why are we here?”

“Because she’s got connections to, uh, resources that might help us. Maybe her old partner can help us find her.” Justin looked over something else on his ego, the edges of his lips quirking into a smile.

“What is it?” Mae asked.

“There are reports of this place claiming miracles. That’s always a treat.” He slipped his ego back into his jacket. The two matched. “Another good reason to have someone like Leo on hand. These groups go to extremes to pull off their scams. Leo’s a pro at figuring out what they’re doing. Fortunately, I’m not half-bad myself.”

Mae rolled her eyes. “Now, now, no need for modesty.”

He grinned as the two of them headed inside. “If the same guy’s still here, he’s not really all that stable either. Actually has the balls to call himself Golden Arrow.”

Although Justin had an appointment, no one greeted them at the door, which was unusual. When they stepped inside the church’s foyer, they found a full-fledged ceremony going on within.

“Warning sign,” Justin murmured to her. He’d once taught university classes and often slipped into lecture mode without even realizing it. “They’re feeling cocky if they scheduled a service during a servitor inspection. Worse still that they’ve got this many people out on a weekday afternoon.” He checked his ego. “Looks like a quarter of their regular members are here. And there’s the man himself.”

Through a doorway, she could see Golden Arrow standing at the front of a large room, wearing a white toga that wasn’t even accurate for Roman wear, let alone the Greek culture he was hearkening back to. He wore gold-painted laurel leaves in his dark hair and held his hands upward as he stood over a large smoking bowl sitting on a tripod. Two similarly clad women knelt nearby, one on either side of him. The walls were painted with murals of a blond man in various scenes: shooting a bow, driving a chariot across the sky, etc. Mae squinted at the pictures and then focused back on Golden Arrow.

“There’s a little facial resemblance,” she noted.

“There certainly is. Bad enough to claim to speak for a god, let alone liken yourself to one. Ah.” Justin pointed. “There’s Artemis, but significantly dwarfed. They really have dropped her from the act.”

The picture he indicated showed Apollo with a dark-haired woman carrying a silver bow. She wore a short gown and a crescent moon on her head. Mae studied the picture for a long time and felt chills down her back. When she dragged her gaze away, she found Justin watching her closely. “Ready to go in?”

“Of course,” she said, irritated for reasons she couldn’t explain.

He hesitated a few moments longer and then gave her a small nod as he walked toward the main sanctuary, where the ceremony had gone on uninterrupted. Golden Arrow continued chanting in Greek, with his hands and rapt face turned heavenward.

“What’s he saying?” she whispered as they started to step through the doorway.

Justin shook his head. “Nonsense, mostly the same stuff repeated over and over. It’s all about light and glory.”

Golden Arrow’s chanting suddenly stopped when he caught sight of Justin and Mae. All of those gathered turned around to stare as well.

“Friends, we have a special guest, Dr. March from the servitors’ office. So nice to see you again after all these years. Come, come. Take a seat and join us.” He had a good speaking voice, one that resonated. Mae could see how people would be compelled by it.

“Thank you,” said Justin cordially. Mae had to give him points for looking perfectly at ease. He sat on a pew in the back and then beckoned her to join him. “Please, carry on,” he called.

Even she could see how contrived Golden Arrow’s simpering smile was. But after a melodramatic half bow, he returned to his ceremony. The Greek chanting gave way to English, in which Golden Arrow begged Apollo to grace his humble servants with his bliss. He began a refrain that the worshippers echoed as they stomped out a steady beat on the floor. The words grew faster and louder, filling the space with a buzz that set her teeth on edge. Then, through some unseen signal, the noise abruptly stopped. The congregation seemed to hold its breath as it watched Golden Arrow experience what seemed like a cross between a seizure and an orgasm. Maybe, in some cases, the two acts weren’t always that different.

Golden Arrow shook violently and fell to his knees, head tilted back and mouth open as he let out a low moan of joy. A rapture even greater than what he’d shown earlier lit his features, and it only seemed to grow more intense when he lay prone on the floor and continued to writhe around. He finally stilled and grew quiet, gasping in a way that made Mae wish she could offer him a cigarette. The two robed women helped Golden Arrow stand and face the congregation.

“Who will the god choose to share his ecstasy today?”

All of the worshippers dropped to their knees and stared upward with eager expressions. Golden Arrow walked among them, peering closely at each face. At last, he stopped in front of a middle-aged woman, murmuring, “Share in the union of our god.”

Her face shone, and she followed him back toward the front of the room. There, she fell on her knees, head lowered.

“Here we go,” Justin said.

Golden Arrow cupped the woman’s face with his hands, saying a quiet prayer Mae couldn’t hear. A few moments later, the woman had a startling reaction that mirrored his earlier one. She took on that same orgasmic look, complete with the uncontrollable writhing on the floor. Everyone watched in awe, and when the fit finally passed, Golden Arrow’s assistant helped her back to her seat. He then repeated the process with a young man who looked barely out of high school.

Mae was aghast. She whispered, “It’s fake, right?”

“That part is.” It was a weird word choice. “The question is who’s faking it. Him or them.”

“One more,” the priest intoned. “The god will share his grace with one more. Dr. March, would you like to experience the light of Apollo?”

All eyes turned toward them again. Justin said nothing, and Mae could guess his thoughts. Golden Arrow had timed this ceremony with Justin’s visit and was now openly inviting him to participate in a “miracle.” There was a dangerous look in the priest’s eye that put her on alert. He expects something to happen. He knows it will. Justin had said miracles were always disproven. It’d be a big coup for a group to demonstrate an act of divinity on the person sent to debunk it—which meant, of course, that Justin couldn’t do it. She could see Justin analyzing all of these things, and suddenly, a smile appeared. He turned to her and rested his hand on hers, leaning so close that his lips nearly brushed her cheek.

“Do you trust me?” Before she could answer that disconcerting question, he added, “At least as far as this stuff and our country go?”

Mae glanced up at him and met his penetrating gaze. Did she trust him? Not with women, of course. She thought about everything she’d seen in these last couple of weeks, the way he so keenly observed others in his job, jumping on the tiniest signs of danger. And as for his country? Yes. If nothing else, she believed in his devotion to it. She gave a small nod, and he turned toward Golden Arrow in triumph.

“Thank you for the offer,” Justin told him. “But I think I’ll pass this time. My lovely friend here, however, would love to commune with your god.”

Mae jerked her head toward Justin in alarm, but his attention was all on Golden Arrow. The priest looked disappointed at first but then smiled and shrugged. A servitor’s companion was just as good. He gestured for her to follow him.

Trust me, Justin’s eyes seemed to tell her. Nodding more to herself than him, she rose and walked toward the church’s front. Neurotransmitters surged within her at this threat, and that dark power began to settle upon her, weighing down her steps. For once, Mae didn’t entirely fear it. It was almost like armor.

Golden Arrow smiled down at her in glee. “Feel our god’s light,” he said, resting his hands on her cheeks. Mae tensed, fearful that Justin had led her astray and she’d soon find herself on the ground, writhing for the entertainment of these nuts. But…nothing happened. Nothing at all—except a slight flaring of the darkness wreathing her. Golden Arrow’s grin faltered, then disappeared altogether. Soon, his face became an almost comical picture of disbelief. She turned as Justin’s voice suddenly rang out through the church.

“Mr. Rafferty. You’ve created a hoax in an attempt to trick others into the worship of a fictitious entity. Your license is revoked, and you will be forced to answer for—”

The young man who’d had the earlier fit sprang toward Justin. Mae saw the attack coming and acted without hesitation. I can’t let anything happen to him. She was too far away, though, to stop that first punch that knocked Justin back. That was all the guy got in before Mae reached him and tackled him to the ground. Her sharpened senses warned her of others moving in, and once she was certain her target was down, she spun around and blocked the attack of another man who’d come at Justin. The guy was joined by several of his brethren, men and women, all of them worked up over this blasphemy toward their leader. Mae vaguely noted that Golden Arrow himself, along with other more prudent members of the congregation, was uneasily keeping his distance.