Celestial Worm Pt 23 (Patreon)

Part Twenty-Three: Janesha Transcendent

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by @Fizzfaldt and beta-read by the author of Ties That Bind (re-released now) and The Long Way Home (soon to be in print).]

Janesha of Mystal, I have faith in you.

Those were perhaps the most significant words that had ever been enunciated by a mortal on Earth Bet. That they were not spoken out loud mattered not at all. The intent was all that counted. What happened next was an event that had only ever occurred once before in the history of the realm.

Celestials, as it happened, were not precisely the same as gods. For one to become the other, someone possessing a mortal soul had to consciously recognise the celestial as a god; their belief would then define the brand-new deity’s powerbase and thrall. In addition, the mortal had to be within the required range to influence the celestial at all. Most celestials waited until they were attuned to a realm before taking this next step; attunement (which could take centuries or millennia for a newcomer to a large realm) essentially put all mortals in that realm within range of the celestial. Without attunement, the range was all of fifteen feet, which made maintaining one’s godhood problematic if the mortal had business elsewhere.

Although the realm containing Earth Bet was ridiculously smaller than most, Janesha still hadn’t been there long enough to be attuned. Neither was Taylor within fifteen feet of her, which should have put the kibosh on what happened next, right then and there. But it didn’t, and ironically, this was directly attributable to the woman who was trying to kill her.

The Nassite known as Fortuna had, at an earlier point, used her attunement to reverse the changes Janesha had made to Danny and Taylor in order to keep them safe. On finding that they’d been reverted to ordinary mortals once more, Janesha had connected herself to them using cords not dissimilar to those that the ‘capes’ of Earth Bet used to draw power from their celestial-realm crystals. In that way, they were made immune to attunement shenanigans.

Which also meant that, although Taylor was dozens of feet away from Janesha as Fortuna drew back the blade with decapitation in mind, they were still in direct contact as far as establishment was concerned.

So when Taylor assumed an attitude of prayer and uttered that single, silent, fervent phrase … everything changed.

Everything.

<><>

Glorious exultation flooded through Taylor and poured into Janesha. Light, brighter than the sun, flared in all directions.

Music of a beauty fit to reduce the most accomplished composer to tears of envy flooded outward, bringing peace and serenity to those who heard it. Circling back around, bathed in the glow, Cloudstrike lifted her voice in a triumphant whinny as a counterpoint to the chords of joy.

And with the exultation came power. Taylor concentrated on what she knew her friend needed to be; what she indeed was. Janesha was the strongest, the bravest, the smartest of all celestials. She was Justice, she was War, she was Peace, she was Strength. She knew all, understood all, was all. Her power was terrifying in its beauty, and beautiful in her mercy.

The woman who had pretended to be Scion sat up from where she had been flung away from Janesha and raised her hand to shade her eyes against the now-fading glare. Healed of the mortal wound in a moment, the divinely empowered goddess before her unfolded two great angelic wings, silvery and metallic blue feathers recalling the colours of her mystallion’s own pinions. Without moving the wings, she rose into the air, hovering twenty feet up without any visible means of support. No longer was her clothing the uniform black of Mystal, but sky-blue and silver, matching her wings.

“Now that wasn’t nice, was it?” Janesha said, her voice still recognisable though vibrating with divine power. “Come here, you.” Reaching out, she gestured with one finger; The woman, trying to lunge into a realm-step, found herself seized and lifted by invisible forces, arms bound to her sides, body utterly unresponsive to her urgings. With her other hand, Janesha reached out toward where the other two lay in the wreckage of the house.

One of them reacted a little faster than the other and simply vanished as though he had fallen into a hole. The one left behind screamed and clawed at the rubble. “No! Come back here, you bast—!”

That was all he had time to say before Janesha’s power closed around him. Like the woman, he was lifted and carried to a point before Janesha, arms and legs secured with irresistible force.

“Time to see who you really are.”

Taylor didn’t really know what was going on, but she saw Janesha frown. The man and the woman each raised their right hand, their motions subtly stiff and unnatural. Two gold rings slid off fingers … and then the man vanished in a haze of sparkling mist, followed in short order by the woman. Janesha caught the rings as they fell.

“Well, that’s irritating.” She turned to Taylor, swivelling in midair. Regaining her good mood, she smiled down at her friend. “Thank you,” she said warmly, drifting down to where Taylor was climbing to her feet. “You saved my life, and yours as well.”

“It seemed the thing to do.” Taylor looked Janesha over, a sense of awe washing through her as she took in the radiant being her faith had wrought. “So this is you as a goddess. Wow.”

“Wow, indeed.” Janesha looked her own hands over. The skin tone had not changed, but there was the suggestion of light shining from within. “You’ve done well. As my most faithful worshipper, and of course my closest mortal friend, you are now my high priestess.” She smiled, and Taylor felt a wave of happiness flood through her. “There will likely be those who try to hurt me by harming you, but I will not allow that. Before, I made you as strong and durable as the woman once known as Alexandria. Now, I make you … more.”

Holding up her hands, she bathed Taylor with a shimmering rainbow incandescence, setting her skin to tingling. Again the music pealed out, a haunting flute melody that Taylor recalled from her childhood. Taylor felt her feet lifting from the ground, gravity losing its grasp on her.

When the sensation ended, Taylor did not fall to the ground. Ten feet in the air, she hovered, slowly coming to the realisation that she was holding herself up. “I’m … I’m flying!” she gasped. Impulsively, she shot skyward, then arced over and swooped down again, hardly able to believe it. She’d assigned Janesha the ability to do this, of course, but in her mind she had not made the connection to getting enhanced powers herself.

“What happened to them?” she asked as she drifted down to hover beside Janesha. “Did you kill them with your bending?” Not that she really had a problem with that, but she would’ve at least been interested in who they were and why they attacked Janesha.

“I did not get the chance.” Janesha folded her arms, looking more than a little miffed. “I recognised them from Eidolon’s memories. These were the last three members of Cauldron; Contessa, Clairvoyant and Doormaker. Doormaker is the one who escaped my wrath. Eidolon was not aware that they were celestials. When I removed their seclusion rings, Contessa turned her power on her comrade, striking him dead with a thought. In another instant, she did the same to herself, destroying everything that made up who she was before killing herself with shifting.”

“Wait.” Taylor held up her hand. “You can bring the dead back to life.” It was just one of the many, many capabilities she had ascribed to Janesha. “Surely you can do that, and ask them your questions?”

“Sadly, I cannot.” Janesha sighed. “Were they mortal, I could bring them back easily with the power I now wield. But once celestials die, they are gone forever. I can repair the broken and I can revive the dead from their slumber, but I cannot recreate the deceased. Not when it comes to other celestials.”

“Oh.” Taylor’s shoulders slumped for a moment, then she brightened. “What if I believed you could do that as well?”

“I would advise you not to try,” Janesha said firmly. “Celestials stay dead when they die. It is a rule of Creation. The very laws that underpin the realms may object if you attempt to overrule them in this way.” She smiled. “Besides, why bother attempting to improve on perfection?” Holding out her arms, she spun in a circle. “Janesha, supreme goddess of Earth Bet. It has a certain ring to it, does it not?”

“It sure does,” Taylor agreed, grinning almost giddily. Janesha had been amazingly cool when she was just plain Lady Janesha of Mystal. But now as a goddess, she was just how Taylor had imagined she could be. Even the slightly archaic speech was how Taylor figured gods would talk. “So hey, you said something about repairing the broken? Because our house looks a little broken to me.” With a smirk, she gestured down at the pile of wreckage that Cloudstrike had left behind.

“Broken it is, indeed.” Janesha gestured to Cloudstrike. “Come, good and faithful steed. Were it not for you, Taylor and I would now be dead.”

With a snort that Taylor interpreted as ‘well, duh’, the mystallion swooped down and then came up so that Janesha was once more seated in her saddle. The two pairs of wings, instead of looking incongruous and strange, seemed to suit one another. Drifting over, Taylor came to a stop alongside Cloudstrike’s head. Cloudstrike snorted again and nuzzled her, hard; Taylor chuckled and gave the winged steed a scratch behind the ears.

Leaving the reins to drape over her saddle, Janesha raised her hands and summoned light to cover the entire area of the house. Noise arose once more; with amusement, Taylor recognised the sound of hammering, sawing and jackhammers, though there was no sign of anyone on the site actually using those tools. Within the glow, the pieces of the house levitated from the ground, then glowed and underwent modifications.

When the house started rebuilding itself, Taylor saw what alterations had been wrought. It was a little larger, with stone paving leading up to a front door flanked with marble columns. Beyond was no less than a temple, with stained-glass windows on each side. Above the door, Taylor saw one that seemed to depict her father facing off against the horror monster Janesha called a talot, while Janesha lay unconscious off to the side.

“Wow, that’s kinda cool,” Taylor said. “But … where are we supposed to live?”

“Wherever it is that you wish to live,” Janesha assured her. “Your belongings are safe. It is not a decision that you need to make quickly. Indeed, first there is another matter that we need to address.”

“Another matter?” This was moving faster than Taylor knew how to handle. “What is it? Have you found another celestial?”

“Not a new one, no.” Janesha smirked. “He will be arriving in three … two … one …”

A hole opened in midair and Sagun stepped out. He stopped short and stared at the temple, then at Janesha. Slowly, his jaw dropped.

“Hey, it wasn’t our fault,” Taylor said defensively. “We got attacked by someone pretending to be you.”

“No.” Sagun shook his head. “No, you don’t get to do this and just say it wasn’t our fault.” He pointed at Janesha. “I don’t know much about celestials, but I’m pretty sure what’s happened here is someone’s fault, and I want that someone to explain to me why there is suddenly a goddess in this realm who happens to be a lot more powerful than me!”

“Cease binding thy knickers in a twist, dear Sagun,” Janesha replied with a divinely mischievous smile. “It is simple. The other celestials that threatened us attempted to murder myself and Taylor. They have been slain or driven off. They were, in fact, the last remaining members of Cauldron. I have now taken my rightful place as supreme goddess of this world. I think we can both agree that it needed one. You may resume your role as Scion, the patron god of superheroes. That is your forte, is it not?”

“... yeah, I guess so…” Sagun’s eyes flicked from Janesha to Taylor and back again. “So … if the threat’s gone, you can just step down again, yeah? Just be Janesha the mildly terrifying Mystallian girl rather than Janesha the absolutely terrifying goddess?”

High, clear laughter rang in the air, then Janesha moved into Scion’s personal space. There was no realm-stepping involved or even a portal; she simply vanished from one spot and appeared in the other. “Understand this, Sagun of Earlafaol. I am who I am supposed to be. In my mercy, I will forgive you the suggestion this one time, but never again are you to question my divine right to this realm. Do I make myself absolutely clear?” Her voice was quiet, but at the same time it was loaded with the kind of power that said, ‘Don’t make me repeat that, because you won’t survive it’.

Sagun wilted faster than a houseplant in the Sahara. “Sure,” he babbled. “Absolutely. Ummmm, so, I’m the god of superheroes now?” He looked at his hands. “I don’t feel any different.”

“You always were the god of superheroes,” Janesha said with a gentle chuckle. “It’s just that nobody noticed it before now, because you didn’t know what you were doing.” She raised her hands then sent a wave of divine power outward, the pearlescent light shimmering for a moment before it dissipated. “And now they know. I have announced it, and thus it is true.”

She was right. Taylor now knew that Sagun was Scion, the god of superheroes. It was as though she had always known it, and was comfortable with that knowledge.

“But you’re still the goddess of everything in Earth Bet,” Sagun said carefully. “Doesn’t that kind of make me superfluous?”

“Not in the slightest,” Janesha assured him. “Personally, I find the superhero concept to be just a little silly. It is a massively complicated affair that I would much rather delegate to someone who wants to deal with it. Though if you wish, I can remove the more troublesome threats to ordinary people.”

“Ah … no, no, I think I’m good now.” Sagun smiled. “Whoa, this is a rush. Yeah, I can handle the big bads on my own. Thanks for offering, though.”

“That is good to hear. I will leave you to take up your duties.” Janesha turned to Taylor. “Now, there is one more thing that needs to be done. The request that you desperately wish to make, but dare not.” She flicked a finger, and the world shifted around them. Abruptly, they were hovering over a cemetery on the outskirts of Brockton Bay, in the shadow of Captain’s Hill.

Taylor felt her heart leap into her mouth as Cloudstrike descended. “I—I … Janesha, I …” Words tripped over one another as she tried to unscramble her racing thoughts. When she’d made that prayer, she hadn’t expected this.

“Yes?” Janesha turned toward her, the same and yet not the same. This Janesha was wiser, more compassionate, and far more powerful than she had ever been before. “I am not of Weaver blood, yet I could feel your pain across galaxies. You and your father both miss her terribly. You have brought me into my full potential; why should I not do this for you?”

They touched down on the carefully-tended grass beside a particular headstone. Taylor read the inscription once more. As always, it brought tears to her eyes.

Annette Rose Hebert

1969-2008

She taught something precious to each of us.

Taylor would’ve asked Janesha if she could truly bring back the dead, but did not, for two reasons. The first was that she knew the freshly-minted goddess could. The second was that if she allowed herself to doubt, even for a second, it would destroy her own faith in what Janesha could do. So she remained silent and reinforced her own belief until it was diamond-hard. She can do this. I know she can.

Janesha glanced sideways at Taylor with the tiniest hint of a smile, as if she knew what was going through her head. Which was entirely possible; Taylor didn’t know all the rules attached to being a high priestess, which in itself felt ridiculous. ‘High priestess’ did not sound like a job someone should have before they even turn sixteen.

But here she was. And there was Janesha, standing beside the grave of Annette Hebert, looking down at the gravestone. Turning, Janesha held out her hand to Taylor. “Do you want this?” she asked. “Do you truly want this? This is something I cannot and will not unmake once it is done.”

Taylor took a deep breath to still her inner turmoil. There was only one answer she could give. Reaching out, she took Janesha’s hand. “Yes,” she whispered.

Janesha’s smile encompassed all the love and compassion in the world. Holding her free hand out over the smooth grass of the grave, she let the glorious light of her power spill down over it. “Annette Rose Hebert,” she intoned. “Let your soul return to your body. Let your body be remade. Let your self be whole once more. Let all the love and memories that once filled you return. Let you be once more, that you might breathe and live and love.”

She paused, and nodded to Taylor.

Heart thundering along at what felt like a thousand beats a second, Taylor squeezed Janesha’s hand, feeling the celestial power spilling over into her body. The air thrummed with it, the glow transcending her with joy. “Come back, Mom,” she whispered. “Please come back.”

“Annette Rose Hebert; RETURN!” shouted Janesha in a voice that rang louder than humanly possible. Music chimed all around, interspersed with voices and other noises. Taylor recognised her own voice, younger, speaking with her mother. Her father and mother, laughing together over some joke.

The light over the grave spun in a circle like a million tiny fireflies, forming a vortex over the grave, under Janesha’s hand. Before Taylor’s wondering eyes, the light settled into place to create a basic human form, filling in more and more detail, becoming more and more solid.

As the last of the motes of light evaporated, Annette Hebert stood there, wearing the clothing Taylor had last seen her in, blinking in confusion. “Where am I?” she asked. “What’s going on?” Then she frowned. “Taylor, is that you?”

Taylor grabbed her and hugged her, hard.

<><>

In Another Well Known Realm

YHWH, Lord God of Heaven, rubbed His chin thoughtfully. “So, you were all with the soul of Annette Hebert from that secondary Earlafaol realm when she vanished.”

The angels nodded earnestly. “Yes, Lord,” they sang in confirmation. “It did not seem planned. She looked … surprised, very briefly, then vanished.”

YHWH looked outward to the pearlescent wall which surrounded the realm of Heaven, then beyond it to the realm’s border itself. His presence surrounded and infused all of Heaven, and thus His knowledge of all that transpired within was complete. However, past that boundary, He could only watch with His celestial gifts, not with the powers His establishment had bestowed upon Him. Annette’s immortal soul had been recalled, which required two very specific things. One, a celestial who was willing to use that power be granted it, and two, believers who believed very firmly that the celestial could do that.

In His experience, getting those two together was a very rare proposition. The proof of this supposition was borne out by the fact that it wasn’t happening more often.

Of course, if some brash celestial got into the habit of dragging the Damned out of Hell, it would be a very brief affair. At the very least, the Chaotic supreme ruler over there would either send one of his sons out to teach the errant divine the error of his ways, or even go himself.

YHWH was more the forgiving type, Himself. If a soul left Heaven, there would always be a place for them when they returned. And they would definitely return, someday. All beings died. It was the way of Creation.

“Lord God?” prompted the nearest angel. “Is there anything You needed me to do?”

“No,” YHWH decided. “Go about your duties.”

If it happened again, He decided, He would contact Columbine and ask her if there was anything on Earth Bet He needed to worry about. Until then, He would let things be.

<><>

Earth Bet

“So … I was dead?” Annette shook her head, looking out over the Boardwalk to the ocean beyond. “It feels impossible. I was in the car, driving …” She trailed off. “Why can’t I remember anything past that?”

“You were in an accident, Mom,” Taylor said earnestly. It wasn’t the first time she’d said it, but it seemed her mother was finally getting it. “You died, but now you’re back.” She squeezed her mother’s hand. It was firm and warm and alive. “Janesha brought you back.”

“Okay, so if I died … two years ago?” Annette frowned. “Where was I? Just … nowhere?”

“You are a good person, Annette Hebert,” Janesha said from the other side of the table. She took a curly fry and popped it into her mouth. “These are nice. I may just make them into my sacramental wafers.” Somehow, she was able to talk while eating, and not mumble. “As I was saying, you are a good person. You possess a belief in Christianity so when you died, you went to Heaven. But your mortal brain did not go; only your soul did. So when your soul was drawn back here, you did not retain any memory of it.”

“Huh. So I’ve been in Heaven all this time, and I can’t remember a thing about it.” Now she sounded more bemused than disbelieving. “Well, that sucks...”

“You are not missing much,” Janesha said, a little unexpectedly. “It is a pleasant location, if endless clouds and omnipresent angels that sing every word are to your preferred taste in company.”

That was not something Taylor had ever heard her speak about. “Wait, you said you were related to Belial, but I didn’t know you knew anyone in Heaven.”

That got a laugh out of Janesha. The other patrons of Fugly Bobs visibly relaxed as the gorgeous sound washed over them. “The gods and goddesses of Mystal have connections with many realms, petal. I believe I told you once that I came here from Asgard, where I was visiting with my aunt.”

“That’s the other thing I’m having trouble with.” Annette took a calamari ring from the basket and bit into it almost experimentally. She chewed and swallowed, then looked at Janesha. “You and Taylor say that you’re an honest to goodness goddess. Not just a cape, but someone with actual divine power.”

“You betray your Christian upbringing there, Annette.” Janesha sounded amused. “In a single phrase you refer to one divinity while doubting another. Or what did you think ‘honest to goodness’ meant?” She paused. “Enough jesting. Allow me to show you what Taylor already knows.”

She held her hands together over the tabletop, then pulled them apart. An image formed, showing a patchwork of shapes fitting together like a jigsaw puzzle, some much larger than the others. Off to the side was a large dark area, with two small circles in it, quite far apart. “This is my birthplace,” she said, pointing at one of the larger shapes. “The realm of Mystal. These larger ones again are Chaos and the Nexus. That’s Heaven over there, Asgard, Olympus, the other Olympus, Yaru … and I suspect I’ve lost you there.” She moved her finger to point at one of the tiny circles. “That’s where we are right now. Earth Bet.”

“And the other one’s Earlafaol, right?” asked Taylor. “You said it was off in the Unknown Realms as well.”

“Indeed you are correct, Taylor,” Janesha confirmed. She gestured and the tiny display faded. “Were there further questions you would like to ask, to ascertain my divinity? I assure you, it is nothing but the truth, as Taylor well knows.”

“No … well, it’s hard not to believe you,” Annette confessed. She gestured toward where Cloudstrike was grazing in the small yard Janesha had created from the empty lot that had been there when they arrived. “Your … mystallion … is so real. Everything you’ve done is real. I’m alive. I’ve never heard of any capes that could do that.”

“There are some who could revive a person dead just a short while, before the soul has time to leave the body,” Janesha pointed out. “But if they are months and years dead, while you may attract a soul into the body, it will not be the one it was born with.”

Taylor hugged her mother again. It was hard not to. She had cried herself to sleep night after night, knowing that she would never see her mom again. And now, through what was a miracle in the purest sense of the word, she was back. I can’t wait to see Dad’s …

“Oh boy,” she muttered. “Oooh boy.”

“What troubles you, Taylor?” asked Janesha.

Taylor grimaced. “Dad doesn’t know yet. About you. About Mom. About any of this. How’s he going to react?”

“Hm.” Janesha seemed to think for a moment. “He will react badly to my new divinity, but after the initial shock he will be happy to see Annette back. I cannot speak to his exact actions, as I refuse to take away his free will.”

“Why don’t we go to see him right now?” asked Annette. “Make sure he doesn’t hear a distorted version from someone else first.” She frowned. “How badly did he react to my death?”

“Badly.” Taylor wasn’t going to say any more, but then relented. “Mr and Mrs Barnes had to take me in for awhile. He wasn’t eating. He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t cooking.”

“Oh, Alan and Zoe!” Annette’s face lit up. “How are they, anyway? Are they doing well? And Emma? You two were such great friends! You’d be in high school by now, wouldn’t you?”

Taylor took a deep breath, then let it all out in a long sigh. “I … that went all wrong. Emma … had a bad experience a year and a bit ago, and changed. For the worse. When we started high school, she got other friends and started bullying me. It came to a head just a few days ago, and then Janesha arrived and fixed everything.”

“What?” Annette was halfway out of her seat. “I’m going to give Alan Barnes a piece of my mind! How can he let his daughter get away with that kind of crap?”

“Mom! Mom!” Taylor stood up as well, holding onto her arm. “It’s kind of sorted out, but we can do that afterward. Right now, I want to take you to see Dad. Also, I want Janesha to be there.”

“Why do you wish that, I wonder?” Janesha smirked. “Do you intend to hide behind me?”

Taylor stuck out her tongue out at her best friend. “No. In case he has a heart attack from the shock.”

“I rebuilt his heart to make that impossible.” Janesha looked slyly at Taylor. “Also, you could revive him. You have the skills now.”

Annette looked from one to the other. “Why do I get the impression that there’s a lot more going on than either one of you has told me so far?”

“Probably because there is,” Taylor conceded. “But I think it would be best to wait until we’re all home at the same time, because you need to hear it from everyone at once.” She paused. “We’re going to need a home. Just saying.”

“I will commence the construction of an adequate residence at once, petal,” Janesha said, rolling her eyes. The grin gave matters away, though. “Would you prefer a two story or three story mansion?”

“Uh, just … the same as we had before,” Taylor said faintly. “Nothing … fancy.” It occurred to her (as it had several times before) that qualifying any requests was a good idea, as Janesha could take what sounded reasonable and make it considerably unreasonable. All with the best intentions in mind, of course.

“Only the best for my high priestess, Taylor the First!” declared Janesha, then leaped over the rail and spread her wings. Annette, along with the rest of the patrons aside from Taylor, watched with varying levels of awe as she glided over to where Cloudstrike waited expectantly. Settling into the saddle, she called out, “Cloudstrike, hup!” The mystallion’s great wings came down with a sound like thunder, and they launched upward faster than anything so large had a right to move. In a second or two, they were out of sight.

Annette blinked. “Does she do that … often?”

“Every time she can get an excuse,” Taylor said with a grin. “She may be a goddess, but she’s also an incurable showoff. I think it’s a celestial thing. So, let’s go see Dad, shall we?”

Regarding Taylor cautiously, Annette nodded. “Why do I get the impression we’re not going to be taking the bus?”

Taylor’s grin broadened. “Because we’re not.”

<><>

“Taylor!”

“What?”

“Since when can you fly?”

“... today.”

“Well, slow down! Or fly higher! One of the two!”

“... yes, Mom. It’s good to have you back.”

“I love you too, little owl.”

<><>

Dockworkers Association

Things at work had been … odd. Just before lunchtime, Danny had felt the strangest sensation, as if a torrent of energy were pouring through him. He’d felt the urge to leap to his feet and shout in exaltation, though he managed to restrain himself. While he wasn’t totally certain about the reason, his first instinct was to ask himself if Janesha was behind the impulse. He wouldn’t put it past her to troll him with some kind of feedback through the link she shared with him.

When I get home, that girl’s gonna have some ‘splainin’ to do.

Putting the matter from his mind, he’d gotten back to work, only to have the strangest sensation twinge his mind a few minutes later. It was as though a new awareness had opened in his head. Curious, he probed it, and frowned as his forebrain reliably informed him that Scion was the patron god of superheroes. The information was new, at the same time as feeling like something he’d always known. Okay, that’s different. It also changed matters slightly. While he might get snarky with Janesha, Scion was a totally different kettle of fish … if by ‘fish’ Danny meant ‘angry piranhas that could devour him whole’. Snark was not on Danny’s go-to list for dealing with a self-proclaimed god who could back up the claim.

When he went to lunch, a few of the guys who’d been outside were talking about the weird effect that had passed overhead just as the knowledge about Scion had popped into their minds. Relieved that it wasn’t just him, then somewhat less relieved that Scion had apparently seen fit to inform the world of his godhood, Danny settled down to his lunch. He still didn’t know exactly what was going on, but nobody seemed to be discussing the other weird sensation he’d gotten, just before the revelation about Scion.

As they went back to work, discussion was ongoing about exactly what a ‘patron god of superheroes’ was supposed to do. One guy was earnestly espousing the idea that if he prayed to Scion, he might actually get powers. The laughter that followed this wasn’t as hearty as it might have been.

Still, there was paperwork to do and, impervious to harm as he might be, it wasn’t going to do itself. So he set to work, getting into the swing of things once more. Right up until the knock came at his door-frame.

Looking up, he saw Kurt’s face. The burly man was white as a sheet. “D-Danny,” he croaked.

“Jesus shit, Kurt, what’s the matter?” Dropping the pen, Danny jumped up from the chair. Without even thinking about it, he hurdled the desk in one easy motion. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am, but you need to brace yourself. She’s back. She’s really back.” Kurt looked as rattled as Danny had ever seen him. Even dealing with the aftermath of a catastrophic vehicle collision which had put three people in the hospital, the big man had been calm and composed. Not so now.

“Who’s back? Taylor?” That didn’t make sense. Taylor hadn’t been away. He couldn’t think of anyone else whose presence would ring Kurt’s bell like that. “Damn it, Kurt. Who?”

A slender hand pushed Kurt to one side, and a woman both familiar and strange to him stepped into the doorway. “Hi, sweetheart. It’s me.”

Danny blinked and stared. It was Annette, just as he recalled her from that fateful day. Not lying in the morgue. Earlier. Getting in the car. Giving him the grin that he loved. “Is it really you?” He didn’t recognise his voice at all.

She nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. “It’s really me. Taylor’s friend Janesha brought me back from the dead.”

Swaying on his feet, he shook his head. “Excuse me, Janesha did what again now? I didn’t think she could pull off something like that.”

Annette came to him, wrapping her arms around his body. Holding him close. Automatically, he embraced her, smelling the scent she’d been wearing on that same day. His arms tightened. She’s back. She’s really back. Is this a dream? Too many times over the last two years, it had been.

“Well, she’s a goddess, so apparently she can.” Annette almost managed to pull off the deadpan delivery, but there was a quiver in her voice. “I was dead, but I’m alive again. I’d suspect some cape of pulling a prank on the both of us, but my last memory is of getting in the car, over two years ago. Was the crash bad?”

“Mm-hmm,” he managed, breathing in her scent, over and over. It felt so real. It couldn’t be real. No cape had ever raised the dead, not like this. Even Janesha’s power was limited; she’d said so herself. “They said you were …” He couldn’t finish. Killed on impact. “... using your phone,” he finally said.

“Ugh, damn it,” she muttered. From the slight motion of her head against the side of his neck, he was certain she’d just rolled her eyes. “And you warned me. Over and over.”

“Taylor and I stopped using cell-phones after that,” he said quietly. “They just brought back too many bad memories.” He paused, recalling what she’d said. “And, uh, just so you know, Janesha’s technically a celestial, not a goddess. She’s specifically asked us not to refer to her like that, so we don’t start accidentally worshipping her.”

This really was Annette. He knew that for sure when she went silent against him. With anyone else, he would’ve been left wondering if she was content, uncertain or pissed off. Immediately, he realised that she had something to say but she wasn’t sure how to say it.

“What?” he asked, not letting her go. His hand slid up the back of her neck and into her hair. It felt just as wonderful as it had every other time. Two long years fell away, and it was as if she’d never been gone.

“She’s a goddess,” Annette told him flatly. “A real one. Did you know Taylor can fly now? She says Taylor’s now her high priestess.”

Danny blinked a few times, trying to process that. Had Taylor done the one thing Janesha had warned them about, time and time again? Had she done it just to get her mother back? Merely thinking about it threw him into a loop. Annette was back! But Taylor’s belief had turned Janesha into a goddess, anchoring her to Earth Bet, exactly what she’d warned them against doing.

Was it Taylor’s idea, or Janesha’s? Who am I supposed to yell at, here?

“What’s the matter, Danny?” Annette pushed him back slightly, so she could look up at his face. “You’ve got your angry posture on.”

“I do not have an angry posture,” he protested weakly.

“Pfft, maybe everyone else believes that.” She gave him a cynical look. “I know you better than that, buddy boy. I’ve been married to you for nearly twenty years. What’s got you so upset?”

“Is Taylor here?” he asked, deflecting. It wasn’t her fault, after all.

“Waiting in the lunch-room with Lacey. Nervous as hell.” She looked at him perceptively. “Is it the same thing you’re angry about?”

“Probably,” he grunted, not wanting to let her go. Not wanting to risk this being a dream after all, and missing out on a single second of holding the woman he loved in his arms. Inhaling her scent once more partially alleviated his worries—he’d never had a sense of smell worth a damn in a dream before—so he changed the topic before he could ruin the moment. “I went to pieces, just so you know. Didn’t have two brain cells worth rubbing together. When you went away.”

“When I died, Danny,” she said firmly. “Let’s not dance around that one. I still don’t have any memories of it, but enough people said they went to my funeral that I have to accept it. I’m just glad that I’m back. Janesha said she had to pull my soul out of Heaven to make it work.” He felt her head roll from side to side; she was shaking it in amazement. “How does that even happen? Capes can’t do it. An actual literal goddess on Earth Bet? Are you just as stunned by all this as I am?”

“I’ve had her living in the same house for the last few days, so I’m getting around to accepting the concept,” he conceded. “You’ve met Cloudstrike, yes? Janesha made a stable for her in the basement. And she can create any food you like, just like snapping her fingers.”

She chuckled softly. “That might be Fugly Bob’s for the next few nights. Just a fair warning. We had some before we came here.”

He nodded understandingly, then something else occurred to him. “Wait, she said she pulled your soul out of Heaven?”

“Yes, that’s what she told me.”

“That shouldn’t be possible.” The very phrase made him wonder what ‘impossible’ even meant anymore. “The way it was explained to me, Earth Bet is in one realm and Heaven is in another. Even the most powerful god’s abilities cut off short at the boundary. Did she actually go over to Heaven and bring you back personally … no, that wouldn’t work either. She’d have nobody to bloodlink back to. Except maybe Scion … no, I’m pretty sure she said she wasn’t related to him.” He frowned, trying to figure out the dodge Janesha had pulled.

“Look at you, all expert on how goddesses work,” Annette said with another chuckle. “Taylor asked Janesha the same thing. She said she used my mortal remains as a connection to my soul and drew me back that way, then rebuilt my body on the spot.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” For a really strange definition of ‘sense’. He rubbed his hand over her back, right where she liked it, and was rewarded with a mmmmm of contentment. “Okay, I’m not going to ask any more questions. I’m just going to enjoy having you back.”

“About damn time,” she said with a snort. “I was beginning to think I wasn’t welcome. Now come here, handsome. I hear you haven’t seen me for the last two years.”

As she pulled his face down to hers, the last coherent thought that crossed his mind was, I still have to yell at Taylor for making Janesha into a goddess. But not too much.

And then he was kissing his wife.

It really, really wasn’t a dream.

<><>

In a Realm Far From Mystal

“So you ran.”

Dorian didn’t even dare struggle against the barbed manacles. “Yes, brother.”

Davin’s expression only shifted microscopically, but terror sleeted through Dorian’s mind. “Leaving your comrades to be questioned.”

“I couldn’t help them.” It wasn’t a protest, or even an excuse. The words were a statement of fact. “She had become a goddess right there in front of us, while that fucking little mortal was all the way across the street.” He raised his eyes briefly, then dropped them again as agony blitzed its way through his system, starting from the manacles and radiating into his body. “I swear, she was almost as powerful as you, brother.”

“We have not been attacked, so Fortuna at least knew her duty.” Davin’s voice was implacable. “But you ran, and left them.”

“I had to bring word to you of the fate of Abaddon, brother.” It was a broken whisper. Dorian knew what came next.

Others may have bellowed in rage, but Davin did not. His voice, unchanging, was far more terrifying. “Abaddon failed me. You failed me.”

As the floor opened under Dorian and he plummeted into the pocket realm known as the Sin Bin, he anticipated the eons of agony that awaited him, and he thought of Fortuna and Clare.

It dawned on him that they were the lucky ones.

 Part 24