Divine Misfortune (2010) (12 page)

Phil and Elliot made a break for it. Phil’s car was closer, and it obligingly opened its doors for them. They jumped inside,
and the doors slammed shut again. By a stroke of luck, none of the birds made it in with them. The car shielded them from
the birds’ deafening chirps.

Phil slouched in his seat and exhaled.

“Thanks,” he told the navigation charm hanging from the mirror.

The eyeball bobbed at him.

The finches settled in a circle around his car. They went silent again.

“Thank you, Lucky.” He turned to Elliot. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

Phil checked himself for any cuts or bruises, but miraculously, the birds hadn’t laid a beak on him.

An especially large finch glared at him through the windshield. Then, in an instant, they were gone, launching themselves
skyward and disappearing.

The navigation charm hanging from Teri’s rearview wasn’t perfect. It had trouble parallel parking. And while it was pretty
good at avoiding traffic jams, it wasn’t able to perform miracles.

A series of fender benders, a serious accident, and a tractor trailer jackknife had reduced traffic to a crawl. There was
nothing to do about it but sit it out. The charm made it easier. She didn’t have to pay attention and could while away the
time reading.

It was probably why she never saw the truck coming.

Her car was passing through an intersection when a cement truck barreled along and smashed into the rear half of her coupe.
She spun out like a top and bounced off another automobile, coming to a stop across two lanes.

It happened so fast that it was over before she even realized. But it was only the first part of the accident.

Brakes squealed as another car plowed into the coupe. She was knocked a few feet more and into the path of another truck.
She yelped as it moved forward. Its bumper was higher than her hood, so the truck bounced onto the coupe. Its huge front tire
rolled across the hood and right toward the windshield. Teri ducked into her seat, as if that would prevent her from being
crushed.

But the coupe didn’t crush. Even as the large vehicle came to a halt with its tire resting on her roof.

It took her a few seconds to realize she wasn’t hurt. Another few seconds to remember that she was riding in an invulnerable
car. There wasn’t even a crack in the windshield. She was a little shaken up, but even that seemed minimal. Maybe there was
some kind of enchantment that protected the passengers from the worst of a collision.

Lucky had saved her life.

She rolled down her window and peered upward at the truck perched above her. Cautiously, she exited the coupe and moved to
a safe distance. The intersection was a pileup of automobiles. The cement truck that had caused the chain of vehicular carnage
had plowed into a storefront. The driver peeked from the open door. He glanced around the scene. His eyes met hers, and he
frowned.

He jumped to the sidewalk and ran away. She lost sight of him in the crowd.

A trio of red spotted pigeons landed on the truck. They were strangely un-pigeonlike in their movements. Their heads didn’t
bob, and they just perched on the truck, staring down at her. And just her.

A shiver ran through her, but that had to be because of the accident, the noise, the chaos. The pigeons were just something
weird for her to focus on. But she had a winged serpent sleeping on her couch and her best friend was dating a raccoon, so
Teri’s definition of notably weird had changed over the past few days.

Still, the oddly colored pigeons qualified.

A siren drew her attention, and she glanced away. When she looked back, the birds were gone.

But she couldn’t get them out of her mind.

Bruce made it back to his home without getting caught.

It’d all seemed so simple. Steal a truck, wait for the right opportunity, and then crush Teri Robinson under his bumper. He’d
picked Teri rather than Phil because she was a woman, and that had made her less threatening in his mind. Irrational, he knew,
especially since his weapon of choice was a twenty-ton vehicle. But this would be his first human sacrifice to Gorgoz. He’d
slaughtered a small menagerie in his dark god’s name, but humans were a big step. Still, when the order came down, he was
ready for it. This was his chance to prove himself to Gorgoz, to rise up in the ranks.

And he’d blown it.

But he was safe. Nobody had seen him. Except maybe Teri, and it was a fleeting glance at best. She’d see him again. And next
time, there would be no miracles to save her.

“Hello, bug.”

He jumped at the voice.

The spotted rat on his sofa stared at him.

Bruce knelt. “Master, I have failed you.”

“Yes, you have.”

“It won’t happen again,” said Bruce.

“No, it won’t.”

The scampering of dozens of tiny rodent feet filled the room. And Bruce knew the time had come to pay the piper. He regretted
that it was going to end like this, struck down before he even had a chance to rise up in the ranks, before he’d gotten his
chance to at least get something worthwhile from all the blood he’d spilled in Gorgoz’s name. But, honestly, he wasn’t surprised.

The swarm of squirrels, rats, and one ravenous, red-speckled wombat pounced on him and devoured him, and Bruce’s career in
Gorgoz’s temple came to a bloody end.

“I challenge,” said Lucky.

“You challenge?” Quick tapped the table with his clawed fingertips. “But it’s a word. S-O-M-B-R-E-R-O. A wide-brimmed hat.”

“I know what it is,” said Lucky. “But it’s not an English word and the rules say very clearly that all words must be in English.”

“No, the rules say words must appear in the dictionary.”

“So I challenge. Check the dictionary.”

Quick picked up the pocket dictionary resting beside the Scrabble board and flipped through to the S section.

“Is it in there?” asked Lucky with a wry grin.

“No, it’s not,” replied Quick, “but that’s not fair. The page is missing. Just like every other page that would contain every
other word that you’ve challenged.”

“It’s not my fault the only dictionary we could find was defective.”

“Then whose fault is it?”

“Hey, it’s just my nature. I can’t help it.” Lucky laid out all his tiles, reading as he went. “Z-E-O-L-I-T-E.”

“That’s not a word,” said Quick.

“Do you challenge?”

“What’s it mean?”

“Do you challenge?” asked Lucky.

“You don’t know what it means, do you? You just laid out the tiles at random, didn’t you?”

“I know what it means,” replied Lucky after a moment’s hesitation. “Do you know what it means?”

“Why don’t you tell me then?” asked Quick.

“Why don’t you tell me?” said Lucky.

“Just admit it. You don’t know what it means.”

“Okay, so I don’t. But I don’t have to know. That’s not in the rules.”

The gods stared at each other across the coffee table of honor.

Lucky smiled. “Do you challenge or not?”

Quick scooped up the dictionary and flipped through it. He slammed the book onto the table. “I hate playing games of chance
with you.”

“Scrabble is not a game of chance. It is a game of skill with an element of chance. There’s a difference. And don’t be such
a sore loser. Come on. You’re due! Nobody wins all the time. Not even me. I think I saw an old copy of Clue in the closet.”

“Don’t you need three for Clue?”

Phil walked through the front door.

“Phil will join us,” said Quick. “Won’t you, Phil?”

“Uh, sure,” said Phil. “What are we doing?”

“Playing Clue.” Lucky bounded to the other room to get the game.

“It’s been forever since I played that game,” said Phil.

Quick shook his head.

“What?”

“You’ll see.”

“You have a little something there.” Quick pointed to a spot of white bird crap on Phil’s shoulder.

“You should see my car.”

“Uh-hmm.” Quick grinned. “Let me guess. For the most part everything was going great today, but sometimes, odd moments of
improbable bad luck hit you out of nowhere.”

Phil nodded. “How’d you know?”

“The universe is a chaotic place by nature. Gods of fortune can curb that, even bend it in the favor of their followers, but
they can’t completely prevent bad things from happening.”

Lucky returned with the game and started setting it up.

“Want to explain about entropic balance?” asked Quick. “You’re the luck god.”

“It’s not that complicated,” said Lucky as he laid out the miniature pewter murder weapons. “In the old days, we usually just
ignored it and all that ill fortune gathered up in a giant clump of negative karma hanging over our followers’ heads. Eventually,
it would fall and fall hard. Whammo, a lifetime of delayed entropy would hit them all at once.” He punched his fist into his
palm. “The results… not very pretty.

“But you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” said Lucky. “We eventually figured out that if we allowed small bits of
random chaos into our followers’ daily lives we could defuse the big whammy. Entropy isn’t picky. It just doesn’t like being
ignored. So a few odd misfortunes here, a little bizarre luck there, and everything works itself out just fine.”

“I didn’t think you had to worry about stuff like that,” said Phil. “I thought you just did whatever you wanted.”

“Oh, we have rules we have to follow, too,” said Quick.

“Are you allowed to admit that in front of me?” Phil asked. “Isn’t there some kind of rule against it?”

Lucky and Quick chuckled.

“Some gods think we should present an all-powerful image to mortals all the time,” said Lucky. “But they’re humorless pricks.”

Phil laughed. He was becoming used to this. Not just talking with gods and living with gods, but actually liking them despite
himself. But Lucky and Quick weren’t immortals as he knew them. They weren’t aloof or terrifying or wrathful. They were just
a couple of working stiffs scraping by with a handful of followers and hoping to get ahead. Even if he would have preferred
not having a reformed Aztec sun god sleeping on his sofa, he could relate.

They picked their pawns, and Lucky won the roll to see who would go first.

“Imagine that,” mumbled Quick.

“Oh don’t be such a spoilsport.”

Lucky picked up the die just as the front door opened. Teri stepped in, a little disheveled and with a slightly dazed expression.

“Teri, what’s wrong?” asked Phil.

“There was an accident.”

Quick threw a glare at Lucky, who stared nonchalantly at the die in his hand.

“What happened?” Phil asked. “Are you hurt?”

“No, there were some injuries, but nothing serious. I got hit by a truck. It was a real mess. I could’ve been killed.” She
absorbed the thought. “I should’ve been killed.”

Phil put his arm around her and guided her to the sofa. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Lucky’s car saved my life.”

Quick cleared his throat while Lucky straightened out the line of miniature murder weapons.

Teri gave a brief account of her accident. She mentioned the strange speckled pigeons at the end.

“That’s weird,” said Phil. “I was attacked by spotted birds today, too.”

“Are we going to play this game or not?” asked Lucky. “This murder isn’t going to solve itself. Didn’t a great mortal once
remark that justice delayed is justice denied?”

“I got it.” Phil snapped his fingers and pointed to his god. “This is all because of you.”

“These things happen,” said Lucky. “I don’t think there’s anything to be gained by overanalyzing random events like this.”

Quick grunted.”—Says the luck god.”

Lucky’s smile faded. “Well, now, I can explain—”

“It’s more of that entropic rebalancing, isn’t it?” Phil said. “The pressure valve to keep the really bad stuff from happening.”

“Yes! Karmic necessity. No big thing. A little inconvenient, sure, but not really a problem.”

“Getting run over by a truck is not an inconvenience,” said Quick.

“Hey, I’m thirsty,” said Lucky. “Anybody else thirsty?”

“I could use a soda,” said Phil.

“One soda, coming up!” Lucky grabbed Quick by the wing. “Want to help me with this one, buddy?”

“Help you grab a soda? Does that really require two gods?”

“Excuse us.” Lucky pulled Quick into the kitchen.

“Will you cut it out?” whispered Lucky as he grabbed a beverage.

“They need to know,” said Quick.

“They’re my followers. That’s for me to decide. So why don’t you mind your own business?”

Quick flapped his wings in exasperation.

Lucky poked the serpent god in the chest. “If you find it too hard to shut up, you’re always free to find another place to
crash.”

Quick snarled. “You’re an asshole.”

Lucky’s ears fluttered. “All part of my charm.”

They returned to the living room.

“One soda for my newest follower,” announced Lucky boisterously. He tossed the can to Phil.

“I was just explaining how it works,” said Phil. “The way that weird things have to happen to keep chaos in check. It’s not
going to always be like this, is it?”

“Oh no,” said Lucky. “It’ll balance itself out eventually, and you can trust that while you’re under my influence even vicious
squirrels and nasty birds are little more than an inconvenience.”

Quick bit his lip hard enough that his fangs drew blood.

“So are we going to play or not?” asked Lucky. “If I recall correctly, I’m first. And I think I will try to solve the crime.”

“You haven’t even eliminated any suspects yet,” said Phil.

“Can’t hurt to take a guess, can it? I think it was Professor Plum in the conservatory with the lead pipe.” Lucky opened the
envelope and spread out the cards for everyone to see. “Must be my lucky day.”

Quick sighed. “This is why I only play checkers with gods of fortune.”

“Are you sure this is the right place?” asked Bonnie.

“I’m sure,” said Syph.

Bonnie studied the house across the street. It was nice but unremarkable. difficult to imagine that a god called it home.