Shield of the Gods (Aigis Trilogy, Book 1) (7 page)

              The bus finished traversing Binghamton, New York and the driver announced that they’d be crossing into Pennsylvania soon. They were right around halfway to their destination.

             
The rain had let up in this part of New York but it was still cloudy. Puddles blotted the sides of the highway and cars that passed the bus kicked up swirling tails of mist.

             
After the announcement, Roxie heard cars honk their horns and wondered who was driving like an idiot. She stole a glance out Aerigo’s rain-splattered window and saw a Mustang fighting to stay on the slippery road as it swerved to the left. She jumped to her feet and pressed her palms to the glass. The car slid into the breakdown lane, slammed into the cement barrier with a metallic crunch, then rebounded off it and arced toward the Blue Eagle Express’ belly. The car’s nose broadsided the bus, jolting it, then got wedged under the giant wheels. Roxie dropped a foot back to keep her balance and continued watching.

             
Passengers snapped out of their movie-watching trance and voiced their wonder at the strange jolt.

             
The sports car stayed wedged under the first set of double wheels, its nose getting eaten away, and the rest of the car jostled up and down as if it were going over a series of speed bumps. Roxie couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. This kind of crash only happened in movies; not right below her.

             
The bus driver stopped his vehicle in the middle of the highway once he heard several people exclaim “Oh my god!” People on the right side of the bus crowded behind those on the left.

             
“Aerigo!” Roxie reached to shake Aerigo’s shoulder and got zapped the moment her hand was within an inch of his skin. “Ow!” She recoiled her hand and shook it, then examined it for injuries.

             
Nothing.

             
“What the heck was that?” she wondered aloud. The shock more surprised her than hurt. Roxie shrugged it off as static and reached for his shoulder again, only to get shocked a second time right before making contact with his skin. Aerigo sat upright in his chair and his eyes snapped open. Roxie stared back into his wide eyes, which glowed like they had in the bathroom: a swirl of yellow and red, the two colors pushing for dominance over his hidden pupil. The glow faded into Aerigo’s blue eyes. He blinked.

             
“What did I say about windows?”

             
Still confused by that swirling glow, she stared into her companion’s calmer eyes and pointed at the sports car wedged under their bus.

             
Aerigo stole a snapshot out the window and his whole body went rigid. “Move!” He reached for the isle chairs to hoist himself out of his seat.

             
Roxie backed out of his way into the crowded aisle. “What was that strange glow in your eyes?”

             
Aerigo pardoned himself past the first couple of people stuffed in the isle, and he kept on having to ask one person at a time to make room. Roxie followed, feeling an obligation to stay close. She could hear patience disappearing from Aerigo’s excuse me’s. By the fifth chair he paused and took a deep breath. “
Move!
”

             
Roxie flinched at the power of his voice, then peered past one of his strong arms and saw everyone in front of them turn their way. They stuffed themselves among the seats. Children pointed at his face and parents shielded children in their arms.

             
“Look at his eyes, Mommy!” a little girl yelled.

             
“Shh! Put your hand down!”

             
Aerigo rushed down the emptied isle and the bus driver opened the door for him. Roxie avoided making eye contact with anyone as she followed Aerigo out.

             
Traffic had piled up behind the bus. The far left lane lurched like a line of inchworms as people tried to force and honk their way over to the far right lane. Many a passerby were on their cell phones, hopefully talking to 9-1-1. Several cars pulled up near the bus, forming a diagonal, and turned on their hazard lights. Drivers got out of their vehicles.

             
Roxie stood near Aerigo, behind the left side of the bus. The Mustang’s hood had been ground off all the way to the windshield, but all the tinted windows were intact. He looked down the length of the bus, then back at the car. He positioned himself behind the bus and glanced at its height, which was twice his. A dozen witnesses and bus passengers crowded outside the back of the bus and watched near where Roxie stood, just as concerned and at a loss for what to do.

             
Aerigo bent his knees and gripped the underside of the bus, then took a deep breath and straightened his legs with a quick exhale. The rear of the bus lifted off the ground level with his hips. He held it there as he dropped to one knee and reversed his grip one hand at a time so he was holding the bus up with the base of his palms. Aerigo heaved to his feet, raising the bus level with his shoulders. The sports car’s mangled nose remained braided between both sets of wheels. A few scraps of metal clanged onto the pavement. Aerigo straightened his arms, hoisting the bus a little higher, and searched its underside. He began moving his hands as if he were under a row of monkey bars, pausing at every progression to make sure he kept the bus level.

             
More tourists began filing off the bus, clutching at heads and shoulders, and other joints. Roxie wondered if it would have been prudent to ask people to get off the bus before lifting it, even though Aerigo was trying to save valuable time. Saving time or not, everyone who’d gotten off the bus forgot about their pain and disgruntled feelings as they stared in amazement at this man holding up several tons of metal all by himself.

             
Once Aerigo was almost even with the back wheels he turned around and settled the bus along the back of his neck and shoulders, and steadied it with the backs of his arms. Balancing on his left foot, he reached for the Mustang with his right and tentatively kicked at what remained of its nose. The car stayed stuck so he kicked it a little harder and made both bus and car wobble. Aerigo shuffled to get both feet back under him, then front-kicked the car with the ball of his foot and it came unlatched. He caught the vehicle on the top of his boot and helped it fall slower, and at the same time the bus tipped toward his left as its center of gravity shifted. Aerigo set the car down with a metallic thud and bent lower as he side-shuffled to get himself back under the bus. All that metal groaned as it was forced upright. It was like watching a big blue twinkie-shaped boat teeter between swells.

             
A young boy of maybe six with a buzz haircut breathed, “Whoa! I didn’t know Superman was real!”

             
“Me neither!” voiced a second boy clutching to the strap of his Spider-man backpack. Roxie took him to be the first boy’s older brother.

             
Aerigo Superman?
Roxie mused.
Nah...

             
Aerigo twisted into the reverse of his monkey bar maneuvering and backed out from underneath the bus. Once he had the lip of the frame in his palms, he took a few sidesteps away from the sports car and lowered the bus to the ground. Almost all the bus passengers, along with unaffiliated bystanders, had cameras and cell phones out. Roxie had lost count of how many pictures had been taken by the time Aerigo had lifted the bus to his shoulders.
Well this is going to have an interesting impact once all these pictures reach the media...

             
Once the bus was settled back on the ground, people began cheering and clapping.

             
“Yay, Superman!” the two boys shouted between cupped hands.

             
Aerigo ignored his positive appraisal and brought his attention to the sports car.

             
Roxie jogged up to the mangled vehicle.

             
No one had tried to leave the car. Aerigo discovered why when he tried opening the passenger door. The handle snapped off in his grip. He looked at the broken rectangle of plastic, surprised, then tossed the thing on the ground. He made a fist with one hand and held his other arm openhanded between himself and the car, then jabbed the window, which shattered. Aerigo reached for the inside handle and tried tugging the door open from the base of its window frame at the same time. The whole car lurched once with a hair-raising screech. Then the door creaked ajar after the second tug. Aerigo peeled back the door as if it were a sardine can lid and peered inside. The airbags had gone off and were deflated. An African American couple sat inside, unconscious. “They’re still alive,” Aerigo announced, straightening up. “But there’s something suspicious about this crash.”

             
“How so?” Roxie asked. “Car crashes happen every day.”

             
Aerigo shook his head, then began studying the car’s exterior. Roxie followed him to the back of the car and he reached down to touch a dent in its bumper.

             
“Maybe the car was in another crash before today,” she said. The dent was more of a hole. It didn’t look like the car had been hit or backed into something. The car’s lights were intact and no other part of the bumper was damaged.

             
Balancing on one leg, Aerigo made a kicking motion with his left foot and inserted his foot into the hole. He shook his head and stood even with the bumper, then tried a sort of side kick at the hole. He set his foot back on the ground and glared at the bus. “Why is he going to such extremes to slow us down?”

             
“Daio did this?”

             
“I don’t sense him anywhere right now.” He headed for the other side of the bus where everyone was still watching him. He continued to ignore them. “He must have run into hiding, but I don’t get why. Now’s a perfect time for a confrontation.” He searched the growing sea of traffic. “What are you trying to do, Daio?” he wondered aloud.

             
Roxie recalled her on-the-run encounter with Daio. Someone he referred to as his master was pulling his strings; however, he seemed to be acting upon his own agenda as well. “When I met Daio earlier today, I confronted him about his intentions to follow us.” Aerigo gazed at her. “He said something about seeing if he can learn something from you. But he didn’t say what.”

             
Aerigo clenched his jaw. “He still hasn’t given up. Persistent fool. But that still doesn’t explain why he’s slowing us down.” He looked at the bus. “Unless those were Nexus’ orders.”

             
“Who’s Nexus?” Roxie didn’t like the sound of that name. “His master?”

             
“Yes,” Aerigo said with distaste, then in a softer voice said, “But don’t you worry about him right now, okay?

             
“Okay,” Roxie said.

             
“It looks like he’s still trying to buy time. Let’s just get to New York first.”

Chapter 6

Drifter

             
You’re so easy to manipulate, Aerigo, especially with that kid around. It’s such a joke.

             
Daio sped ahead on a stolen motorcycle, scanning the foliage on the side of the highway for a good place to vanish for a little while. He pulled over to a spot with plenty of room between the breakdown lane and a green wood wall covered in creepers, and let the bike flop onto its side in the un-mowed grass, scaring a woodchuck in the process. Many vehicles whooshed by mere feet behind him.

             
Daio reached out a hand and once again tried to find a door that would lead to another world, but could only feel the summer air weaving between his fingers. The failed attempt came as no surprise. Back in that city, he’d sensed the absence of Earth’s magical qualities. The second attempt was just to make sure that part of the world wasn’t a magical dead zone. Now he was certain particular types of magic weren’t available to him. Earth was half-dead.

Daio sized up the wood wall and steep slope leading up to it, then bent his knees and jumped for the top.

              Daio didn’t want to leave in the hole in the wall. He overdid the jump, grabbed hold of one of the many dead branches stretched barely within reach, and the toes of his carpenter boots made the briefest of contact with the two-inch-thick wall before the branch snapped. The ground and lower branches rushed up to meet him. He chucked the limb aside, shielded his face and threw his legs forward as he crashed through more lifeless branches wrapped in dead vines. Daio landed in a thick blanket of decaying leaves, then sprung to his feet and looked behind him. His fall had made a clear aerial path leading back to the wall. If his luck held, the hole wouldn’t look so obvious from the other side of the wall. He trudged to a spot free of tangled bushes and parked himself Indian-style at the base of a birch tree, placing his palms on his knees as he closed his eyes. He started concentrating, letting all his limbs and muscles relax, slowed his breathing, and cleared his mind of his surroundings and unimportant thoughts. Daio was putting himself in a vulnerable state, however he had a feeling his luck would last long enough.

             
Daio suddenly felt weightless and as if he were floating upward. When he opened his eyes he was looking down at the trees and freeway. He gazed skyward and sent his spiritual body to Nexus.

             
After a moment of darkness, a smooth granite floor, bordered with an ancient calligraphy script in each large tile, appeared beneath his spectral boots. His spirit felt heavy. Lightning flashed outside the many vaulted windows, then was replaced by a muddy amber glow. Daio looked up from the base of several steps leading towards the open dais. Centered up that dais sat a granite throne. It, too, was marked with script, along with woven and knotted lines.

             
Nexus sat on his throne with his feet dangling over one armrest, his back reclined against the other, arms hanging behind him. Although Nexus was hundreds of thousands of years old, he looked no older than a man in his early twenties. He had a lean build, short black hair, and brown eyes almost dark enough to be called black. The god wore just a pair of cargo shorts and a belt--the same outfit as his father, Baku. This similarity amused Daio, despite not knowing the motives behind a son dressing just like the father he loathed. Nexus turned his bored, tired gaze to Daio’s spirit, then hastened to a proper sitting position. Aerigo’s movements were an obsession of his.

             
“This is an interesting surprise,” Nexus said, eyebrows raised. “Why did you come only in spirit?”

             
Daio fought the urge to scowl. His master had to have conveniently forgotten to warn him about the lack of extended reality. There’s no way he couldn’t have known. Typical.
Thanks for almost getting me killed, boss.
“The planet you sent me to has lousy access to extended reality.”

             
Nexus did not smile. “Did you find the being my father created years ago?”

             
“She’s just a girl. Although she possesses the same powers as Aerigo and myself. I saw her eyes glow.”

             
“So my father
did
create another of your kind. This could hinder my prophecy.” Nexus stared off towards his tall windows. “But... I don’t understand how he expects such an inexperienced Aigis to pose as a threat to me.”

             
“I wouldn’t underestimate her, Nexus,” Daio warned, the pain he’d experienced hours ago still vivid in his mind. “She kicked me in the groin and left me incapacitated for a good handful of minutes.”

             
The god laughed loud and hard, and his voiced echoed throughout the vaulted chamber. “How in infinity did you let her do that to you?”

             
Suddenly, the air inside the palace felt lighter and the room itself grew brighter. A lush voice that could make any man feel feeble filled the palace interior.

             
“Is everything alright, Nexus?”

             
Kara, Nexus’ mother, and the most beautiful goddess Daio had ever seen appeared beside the throne. No woman, goddess or mortal, could match her tall and slender body, and creamy moonlight skin. Her soft emerald eyes peered at Nexus between strands of flowing black hair that fell past her petite waist. Oh how Daio wished to put his hands around that waist and press their hips together, then run his hands through that hair that waved about as if there were a breeze surrounding her.
Her hair always moves like that... so strange and mesmerizing.
Maybe he could help her out of her dress that matched her eyes and clung to her flawless shape. Maybe just this once...

             
Nexus rose to his feet and took one of Kara’s slender hands in both of his. “Welcome, Mother,” he said tenderly, then kissed her hand and looked into her eyes.

             
Daio imagined himself running up the dais steps and punching his master. That ego needed reducing. He felt his eyes lose their angry glow the moment Kara spoke.

             
“I was going to visit you a little later,” she said, avoiding eye contact with her son, “but I’d sensed Daio’s presence on your realm.”

             
“His spirit is here. He’s not staying long.” Nexus appeared unruffled by his mother’s lack of eye contact, yet still held her hand.

             
Daio dropped to one knee and bowed his head when Kara looked in his spirit’s direction. It was his way of showing respect toward her. It was exactly how Nexus wanted him to behave.

             
“And what are you up to this time, little Drifter?” Kara asked.

             
Daio inadvertently raised his head. Being called “Drifter” always bothered him, and that being coupled with “little” made him feel like he was five again, some lost child with no home or family.

             
Kara gazed at Daio with the softest of smiles, her eyes enriching that smile. Daio knew the goddess’ expression meant she was pleased to see him, in spite of calling him “little Drifter.” Kara had started calling him that when he began taking orders from Nexus alone. Other than that, she treated him no differently. In fact, she was the only one who treated him no differently than before.

             
Nexus grinned at Daio too, although his expression was possessive. “He’s up to the usual,” he said.

             
“It’s never been clear what the usual is,” Kara said without losing her smile.

             
“Taking orders from me, Mother. We’re working toward something
very
exciting.”

             
“And you’re saving the final result as a surprise?”

             
“Perhaps. We’re almost done. However, Father’s trying to interfere.”

             
“You mean the girl?” Kara’s smiled waned every so slightly that, if Daio hadn’t been staring at her the whole time, he wouldn’t have noticed.

             
Nexus broke from his mother’s arms. “How did you know?”

             
“I was there too, remember?”

             
“And you know the girl’s an Aigis as well?” Nexus said, anger in his voice.

             
“I do. I know your father very well. You forget that often.”

             
“But I was right there! I was even closer than you. I’d detected only an attack.”

             
“Wait!” Daio interjected. “I’m confused.” He wasn’t usually this demanding of his master, but Nexus didn’t have the emotional breadth to be angry with him and infatuated with his mother at the same time.

             
Nexus said, “Years ago I gave my father one last chance to grant me the power to create worlds of my own. As you’re both aware, I didn’t expect him to cooperate, so we fought a bit.”

             
“A lot,” Kara said disapprovingly.

             
“Yes, Mother,” Nexus said. “Once he and I were both spent, I let my father know about the war I’m planning. The end result is the real surprise though. You see, I’ve found a way around having to wait for my father to grant me the power I want. Now he’s scrambling to find a new way to stop me.”

             
“The girl?” Daio asked skeptically. After his master nodded, he added, “Why create another Aigis in hopes of foiling your prophecy?”

             
“A good question. Which is why you’re following Aerigo and the girl. Daio, you mentioned the girl being a little more than you could handle.”

             
“That’s not what I said!”

             
“I’ll recruit a few adept spies for you from Vancor.”

             
“His Elves?” Daio said, catching himself. Extra spies on hand would be useful, especially on a world he couldn’t readily escape from. But still, something wasn’t sitting right with the sudden shift in minion deployment.

             
“I have a hunch Aerigo isn’t planning on staying on Earth for long. Find out where he’s headed, then report back to me. I’ll dispatch the Elves with you at Aerigo’s next destination. Can I trust you to handle Earth by yourself?”

             
Like you’re going to let me.
“Of course, master.” Daio bowed.

             
“Good. And feel free to continue stalling their progress.”

             
“With pleasure.”