“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. Yet his shadow still looms. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives; who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves?”

  Friedrich Nietzsche, German Philosopher

  “Stop. Hide in here, quickly,” Thoth whispered, grabbing Bethany’s arm and thrusting her into a dark alcove in the hallway filled with a dusty old bookshelf. Bethany pressed herself into the tight space, willing herself to be as small as possible, just as the two gods turned the corner of the hallway.

  “Ah, Coatlicue. Chac. Wonderful day, isn’t it?” Thoth said awkwardly, standing in front of the alcove’s entrance so his thin body covered the view of Bethany.

  Coatlicue – a regal-looking goddess with a necklace strung with human hearts and hands – gave the knowledge god a suspicious glance. Her companion – a man with a lizard tail and sharp fangs who had a perpetual rain cloud hovering over his head – gave a more chipper response.

  “Did you see the results of my Arena, Thoth?” the Mayan God of Agriculture asked Thoth excitedly. “Three survivors. I’ve placed bets that all go far in the Contest. Third key at least. Coatlicue here says it was the must-watch event of the day.

  “I said it was an event,” countered Coatlicue. “In the same way that the sunrise or sunset are also events. I’m afraid farming challenges aren’t going to catch Authority’s attention, no matter how many cannibalistic vegetables you add, Chac.”

  “Yah, well… you never know what captures his attention these days, do you?” sighed Chac. “Also, they were carnivorous vegetables, not cannibalistic. Cannibalistic would have been the carrots eating each other.”

  Coatlicue ran a finger across her necklace. “I know what cannibalistic means, Chac.”

  “I’m afraid I missed your arena, my friend,” Thoth apologized, trying to move the conversation along. He shifted his foot to cover Bethany’s sneaker, visible in the corner of his eye. “But I shall watch it on the replay tonight, if I am able.”

  “You’d be the only one to do so,” Coatlicue said dismissively, earning a frown from Chac. “All eyes are on the aftermath of Omoikane’s arena. Tell me, Thoth – do you believe the rumors of rebellion that seem to be spreading like wildfire these days?”

  Dust tickled Bethany’s nose, and she gave an imperceptible snort to stop herself from sneezing.

  “I’m afraid I have little time for rumors, dear Coatlicue,” Thoth answered. He reached into the alcove and grabbed a few of the dusty books from the top shelf. The dust settled on Bethany’s hair and her eye twitched as she held in another sneeze. “My pursuit of knowledge keeps me rather busy, after all.”

  “But you must know something,” Coatlicue pried. “Omoikane is one of your fellow knowledge gods, after all, and these rebellious whispers have only intensified after that rather blunt message Omoikane sent Ah Puch during his arena.”

  The hair on Bethany’s arms stood on end at the mention of the death god’s name.

  “I’m afraid I haven’t been privy to the whispers. I missed Omoikane’s arena as well. Nose deep in my own research, you see,” Thoth deflected. “Political intrigue was never my realm of interest.”

  “Then perhaps I shall ask you directly, Thoth. Do you stand with the Authority, or do you side with the rebels?” Coatlicue bluntly inquired.

  “I know of no rebels, Coatlicue,” Thoth lied, the words uncomfortable on his tongue. “And even if such rebels existed, I don’t believe they would make such allegiances widely known.”

  Coatlicue, dissatisfied with the knowledge god’s answer, gave a huff of indignation and stalked off down the hall. Chac gave Thoth a quick shrug and followed after his companion.

  Thoth waited until the two gods’ footsteps were no longer audible and gave a sigh of relief. He returned the books to the shelf and pulled Bethany from the alcove.

  “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Thoth whispered, clutching her arm as they continued down the hall. “You should return to your void while you still can.”

  “I need to see her, Thoth,” Bethany answered insistently. They’d had this disagreement half a dozen times in the half an hour they’d been traveling the maze of God Home, descending deeper and deeper into its depths. “I need to know what you two have dragged me into.”

  “The knife’s edge, Bethany,” Thoth answered cryptically as they rounded the corner and descended down a winding staircase. “The intersection of a long-simmering war and a desperate and, in all likelihood, futile cause.”

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  “Well, that answers nothing. I could do without the riddles. I’ve had just about enough of those for one lifetime.”

  Her blunt assessment made Thoth chirp with amusement. “Did your friends tell you of the final scenario in Omoikane’s maze?”

  “A little. Something about a man made a god by his Creator, only to betray that Creator and extend his immortality through the sacrifice of others. There’s truth in that, isn’t there? I’ve seen the energy traveling through my void. Syphoned off players as they fight to survive. I’ve… I’ve felt the power the energy provides. It’s intoxicating.”

  “Long ago, The Authority was the noblest of men – respected by all for his wisdom and kindness. His deeds caught the attention of the Creator, and the Creator granted him the power of the divine so he could watch over all humanity.”

  “And then he betrayed his creator.”

  “He didn’t just betray Eternity, Bethany. He enslaved it. Tortured it. Corrupted it, until all that remained was a shell of its former self – a battery to power God Home and the God Contest. Then he buried it so deep beneath the foundations of God Home that its very existence was all but erased from living memory. It was only by chance that Oracle stumbled upon the abyss and established a bond with what was left of our creator.”

  “To the end of Eternity…,” Bethany muttered as they reached the bottom of the stairwell. They were beneath the foundations of God Home now, surrounded by rough-cut tunnels carved through crimson stone. Thoth picked a torch off the wall and lit up the passageway to the left.

  “A final act of kindness – of mercy – for our true creator,” Thoth acknowledged as he led the way, ducking to avoid his ibis head striking the ceiling. “To put it out of its misery and, by doing so, put an end to the gods. But Oracle changed that plan a few months ago, though none of us know why. But that’s Oracle’s story to tell. Come, we’re nearly there.”

  The air was cold and damp, and torchlight refracting off pools of water nestled in the rough cut floor. Their footsteps echoed off the tunnel walls, an intrusion into the absolute silence that surrounded them. It felt like they were walking through a tomb.

  “If you won’t tell me more of Eternity, then tell me what the goddess with the… um… horrifying necklace was talking about. About Authority and the rebellion.”

  Thoth was pleased by Bethany’s curiosity, unimpeded by the oppressive nature of their surroundings. “Ah, well that is easier to explain. A tale as old as time I’m afraid. A tale of tyranny and the inevitable uprising of the oppressed. You see, after Authority imprisoned Eternity, he used Eternity’s power to elevate other mortals to godhood and positioned himself as their all-powerful creator. The great lie, and one every god – including we five – fell for. Authority uses that lie to keep himself in power. He retains the vast majority of the energy collected during the God Contest for himself and his closest allies, providing the rest to the remaining gods as a farmer doles out table scraps to the pigs. Just enough to keep us alive and fuel the occasional miracle in the mortal world, but not enough to challenge his power.”

  “And Ah Puch grew tired of his lot in life?” Bethany surmised.

  “Quite so,” Thoth confirmed. “Ah Puch and his fellow rebels have been building their strength in secret for quite some time, syphoning off energy from the Contest in secret. They grow bolder with each passing day. You saw that firsthand in Omoikane’s arena. We are on the eve of a war fought from the shadows, Bethany, and before the God Contest is over, we may see the rise of a new order amongst the gods.”

  “If Authority is a tyrant, does that mean you and Oracle side with Ah Puch?” Bethany asked, the words feeling rotten in her mouth. She could still hear the malevolence in Ah Puch’s voice as she lay dying in the maze.

  Thoth recoiled at the notion. “If Ah Puch emerges victorious in this war, he will plunge the entire world into a God Contest – syphoning off immeasurable energy to solidify his power. For all his faults, deep down Authority still cares about those he was once charged with protecting. Ah Puch holds no such affection for mortals.”

  “Then you support the Authority?” Bethany asked doubtfully.

  “We support Eternity,” Thoth said simply. “Quiet now. We are here.”

  After endless twists and turns in the maze of tunnels that made the hallways of God Home look like a straight line, they had arrived at a jagged rock wall and a dead end.

  “Thoth, what is this?” Bethany asked, but Thoth placed a gentle finger to his lips. From his cloak he withdrew a small red stone and slid it into an indent in the wall. A hidden door creaked open and revealed an immense cavern beyond.

  The knowledge god poked his head through the opening and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “She is inside, Bethany Fox. Be cautious and be quick. Even a place such as this is not free of prying eyes. Are you able to wake yourself when you are finished?”

  Bethany nodded. “I think so. I’ve gained more control over my dreams since I received The Flow of Eternity.”

  “Then this is where I leave you for tonight,” Thoth announced. “I cannot risk being seen in this place. We all have our roles to play, and mine ends at this doorway.”

  “Thank you, Thoth,” Bethany said gratefully. “I’ll see you again?”

  “Perhaps. Focus on tomorrow, Bethany. These things – the plight of Eternity, and the shadow war to come – mean nothing if you do not survive the God Contest. Complete the trial. Earn the Key of Fire. And then find your way back to me.”

  With that, Thoth left her. Bethany watched until the light of his torch disappeared in the darkness, and only when its last light disappeared did she step through the door.

  The cavern she entered was beyond immense, its darkness dimly lit by rows of ever-burning lanterns that encircled an impossibly deep abyss. Above the abyss, a rusted iron cage swung gently in the non-existent breeze, the squeak of the chain echoing off the cavern walls.

  Inside the cage sat a slender woman in a flowing white robe and thick, rounded spectacles. Long white hair billowed over her shoulders and down her back, and her pale, sun-starved skin glistened in the torchlight.

  The woman glanced towards the light with her milky white eyes – eyes identical to the one she’d gifted Bethany.

  “Oracle,” whispered Bethany. Bethany had never seen Oracle in her true form – only as Diana in her dreams – yet there was no doubt in her mind this was the Goddess of Foresight and Prophecy.

  “Hello, Bethany,” Oracle whispered weakly. “I’ve been expecting you.”