Accidentally...Over?(21)

"Nothing."

"But haven't you seen any of those movies?" Because she had. She'd seen  the ones where monsters wing surfed and ate the plane's engines. She'd  also seen the ones where the systems failed for no apparent reason.

"No. I do not watch movies," Máax replied. "I find real life to be  excitement enough; however, I believe our flight on the Sukhoi Su-80  will be free of any drama or movie grade action. It is the world's  safest turboprop, and furthermore, Death is not after the other  passengers."

"You're looking right at me, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes."

God, this not being able to see him thing was getting on her nerves. "So you're trying to say that he only wants me?"

"Death is an it, a cosmic force, a part of the Universe's never-ending  quest to seek balance, not a he. But yes. It only wants you."

Yaaay. Thanks for the clarification. "Explain to me again why you think leaving would stop it."

He patted her leg. "I do not believe it will stop until it finds another  way to restore balance. Such is the way of the Universe. But as I  already mentioned, my brother's home is near a rather large encampment  of Uchben, our human allies. I will have much better luck keeping you  safe if I have unlimited support. In addition, staying here only  increases the odds that I might overlap with myself, something that must  be avoided. I prefer not to take the risk. But I assure you, you are  safer on that plane than in your own-"

A loud beep sounded, and the man in the passenger seat dug a flip phone  from his blazer. "Yeah?" He listened. "I see. Thank you." He closed the  phone. "Sir, we have a problem," he said without turning around.

"What?" Máax said.

"Sir, the plane has blown up. We can call for another, but I know you  wanted that specific model, and the nearest one is parked in Italy."

"Stercore equum." Máax blew out a long breath. "What happened?"

"Was anyone hurt?" Ashli asked. "And did you just swear in Latin again, Máax?"

"We don't know, sir," the driver replied to Máax. "But the pilots were having lunch. No one was hurt."

"Maledicta in deos!" he snarled.

"Stop with the Latin! Okay?" She gripped the seat with her hands. "This  is really starting to freak me out. The death thing, not the Latin. The  Latin's just really weird. Not helping."

She felt his warm, strong hand cover hers, triggering a delicious  shiver. An urge to bury her face in his chest and close her eyes  enveloped her, but she resisted.

"Do not be alarmed, Ashli," Máax said. "I am a deity. We are accustomed to such unfortunate turns of events."

"Which means?"

"Timothy? Take us to the cabin."

The driver nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Cabin?" Ashli asked.

"There is a small house two hours north of here. It is a remote  location, and I've only learned of it today. There is no chance of a  future version of me randomly showing up, and you will be safer than at  your-"

A loud crack came from the engine, followed by smoke spewing from  underneath the hood. "Cruentum stupri gehenna. What next?" Máax  grumbled.

More wizard talk? Ugh!

"Sir, the engine is overheating. We're only five minutes outside of town. I'm sure we can turn around and make it back."                       
       
           



       

She couldn't see Máax, but she imagined him making little circles over his temples.

"See?" she said. "This was exactly my point. If what you say about Death  hunting me is true, I can't hide. And if I'm going to die, I want to be  in my home, in my café, surrounded by memories of the people I love.  Oh. And if you swear in Latin one more time, I will scream."

"You are a most peculiar woman."

"Why?" she asked.

"Latin seems to have more of an impact on you than death. Exactly why is that?" he asked.

She gave it a moment of thought, but the answer wasn't something one  could answer in a ten-minute car ride. Without a therapist present. And  possibly some chocolaty carbs, wine, bread, and cheese. "I'm not sure. I  just know running is stupid. Won't solve anything."

There was a long moment of silence.

"Please?" she pleaded. This plan was silly. He had to see that. And taking her away from everything she loved was even sillier.

"I suppose," he grumbled, "I could have the men put out signs-codes only  I would understand-so if another version of me were to come upon them,  I'd know to turn back."

Ashli smiled. "By ‘code,' you mean Latin. Don't you?"

"What the infernum, woman, do you have against the mother tongue of all romance languages?"

"Really? Are you that old, you don't know?"

"Fine. It's antiquated. I will grant you that. As for your request to  return home, because of the severity of the situation, I will only agree  on one condition."

"Yes?" she asked.

"You must obey me. Without question."

That was a very tall order. "I barely know you. I'm not even sure we are really having this conversation or that you exist."

"Timothy."

"Sir?" said the driver.

"Am I real?" Máax asked.

"Yes, sir. Although you are technically banished, and we should not be helping you or speaking to you."

"But I explained the calamitous gravity of situation, and because you  know who I am, you are helping me regardless," Máax pointed out.

"Yes, sir."

"And how do you know I can be trusted?" Máax asked.

"You are the God of Truth," the driver said.

"Ah! There you have it, Ashli. Proof that I am real and the God of Truth."

The God of Truth? Wow. Impressive. She happened to be a big fan of his  work. Honesty was highly important. But still, the strangeness of it all  was …  well, strange!

She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. "But I barely know you."

"Then we will get to know each other," Máax said before telling Timothy to turn around and drive slowly on the shoulder.

But what if she died again? Would she dream about this very moment like  she dreamed about those other visits he'd made? None of which had  happened yet?

Infernum, this is so freaky. Oh, great! Now I'm speaking Latin.

"And as it just so happens," Máax added, "I do not plan to let you out  of my sight, so there will be plenty of time for talking." He gave her  hand a squeeze. "Timothy, please activate plan D."

"Plan D?" Ashli asked. "What happened to C?"

"Plan C involved taking you to my private island in Greece. Though it is  patrolled by Cimil's unicorn and quite safe, I doubt that we could get  you there in one piece."

Unicorn? "You've got to be kidding."

"I do not kid. My first island was destroyed by my sister Cimil. This one isn't as large as Atlantis, but it is still nice."

Atlantis? That was real? "I meant the unicorn, but-Wait, if Atlantis was  your island, doesn't that make you …  What was that Greek god's name? The  ocean god." Mythology was not her best subject in college. Yes, lots of  cobwebs in that part of her brain.

"Like the other deities, I am known by many names depending on the  culture. However, I believe you are referring to Poseidon," he replied  dryly. "But I never carried a giant fork. What preposterousness."                       
       
           



       

Ohmygod. I am not actually having this conversation.

"It was a crude version of a surfboard," he added. "And I didn't carry  the damned thing around like a scepter or make oceans gush from the  ground with it. I rode waves with it."

A surfing, invisible god? "I have heard it all."

"You have? Because I assure you, the Greeks' version of me and my  thirteen brothers and sisters holds no bearing on reality. It was far  more insane. That whole naked Olympics thing: Cimil's handiwork."

Okaaaay.

"Cimil?" Ashli asked.

"My sister," he explained. "However, we are not related technically.  Deities do not have parents, although I do consider her my family and  often wonder why. She is quite insane. Means well, but cannot help  trying to blow up the planet."

Eeeesh. For the first time ever, Ashli was grateful for being an only  child. On the other hand, it sounded kind of fun to have such a large  family. With powers. And immortal. Trying to blow up the planet.

Okay. Maybe not.

"So if you don't have parents how were you born?" she asked.

"We do not really know. Similar to humans, we don't remember our births.  We simply recall small fragments of our early years, perhaps as a child  might. When we grew older, we learned more and more about who and what  we were. But everything we know comes from thousands of years of trial  and error. Including the fact that we are bound to the Universe, slated  to serve humanity for eternity. Not that there will be an eternity if we  don't determine how to keep you alive." He paused. "Are you certain you  do not know what it is you are meant to do?"