Fury barked out a few harsh coughs of laughter. “Supes doesn’t like to give you skittish half-Walkers a chance to escape from her. She waits with the tracing information until she feels you’re more committed.”
“I still don’t know how to trace,” Sapha said with a shrug. “I don’t care.”
Eva frowned. “Well, I care, and you’ll be showing me as soon as possible.”
I nodded, reaching out a hand so we could shake on it. The Earth half understood my gesture.
“It’s a deal,” I said.
We both grinned then and things felt okay.
A bark drew my attention, and my heart swelled as my sacred animal bounded into sight. Where had Cerberus come from? Seriously, there was nothing to hide behind in here, just a long white expanse for as far as the eye could see. White floor, white ceiling – just white, white, white everywhere.
All of us faced Cerberus, and I could see relieved smiles cross the other girl’s faces when they noticed their sacred guides had followed the hellhound. Apollo, the water dragon; Crete, the fluffy little kitten; Sass, the massive anaconda; Lina, the unicorn; Nandia, the phoenix; and then finally, a new member.
“That last animal is going to be yours, Eva,” I said.
I could feel her focus intensify as she craned her neck to see better. In fact, we were all straining to catch a glimpse of the last sacred animal. When finally the group moved close enough for us to see clearly, my breath caught in my throat.
Amazing!
I wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but at a guess it was a mix of a yeti and a wolf. Standing on two legs, it was at least seven feet tall and was covered in a dense fur that was all shades of blond, gold and silver. It almost glowed in the white space. The face was definitely wolf-like, but with a little too much humanoid blended in to be completely animal. It had front paws where we had hands.
“What the hell is that?” Sapha said as she backed up.
Eva wasn’t afraid. Just like the rest of us, she was drawn to her creature. “It’s like the lycans in that vampire movie. You know that really old one, Abby?”
Right. She was from Earth and knew movies. I even remembered the specific one she spoke of. It was one of the last I’d seen before the end of the technological age. Her animal did look a lot like a lycan, now that she had pointed it out.
“Yes,” I said, “that’s exactly what he looks like.”
This sacred animal’s energy felt masculine.
Eva slowly edged away from our group, her sword still in the back scabbard; she was not scared in the slightest.
The rest of the animal guides broke formation each to stand beside their half-walker – I gave Cerberus a few energetic pats and ear scratches – and the lycan made his way up to the blond half-human.
They stared at each other for a few moments, before he lowered his wolf-like muzzle and allowed her to reach for his head. At the first moment of contact, there was the usual outward burst of energy. Hair and fur flew all around, before settling back down.
“I can feel him!” Eva was more animated than I’d ever seen her. “His name is Lugi, and he’s created from human fear. A combination of beast and monster.”
Lugi towered over Eva, but didn’t make her seem small. He was fascinating to look at, but then, so were the rest of the sacred creatures. I was so happy they were with us, but the question of the day: what were we all doing here?
“Hey, Supes, do you think our marks are permanent now?” Fury could barely contain the excitement in her voice. “I mean, I know we’re currently in the middle of the freaking white world, and who knows what’s happening back on First World with the Seventine scumbuckets … but for reals, permanent marks.”
Fury had been jealous of my ability to wear the red lace permanently since I’d first met her. Maybe her wish was about to come true.
“I have no idea! Maybe it’s just in this place that all the marks are permanent. Or maybe something happened when we joined for the first time.”
You are right and wrong. Which is always the way with mortals.
The voice was disembodied, and it seeped out of the whiteness to surround us.
The seven of us turned and craned our necks, but there was no other living thing in sight. Just long expanses of white.
“Who are you?” I finally said.
My half-Walkers tightened ranks, leaving almost no space between the seven of us. The sacred animals didn’t seem concerned, though, which gave me a slight sense of relief.
I am everything, and also nothing. I was there at the beginning and will be in the end. I have been known by many names, but for now, you can call me the Mother of All.
Holy shit in a storm. It was the God of the Walkers. The one they prayed to. The one who had created the very worlds we were trying to save.