Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 106

"It's pretty," he said.

"That was my sister." Pelé leaned against the railing and let out a sigh. "When the outsiders came, they destroyed the old pantheons and sent many of us into hiding. There were many gods of the ocean, and they were targeted first. Water is a natural portal to other realms, you know."

"I'm aware," Mike said, then gestured for her to continue.

"She barely survived her own brush with madness and it forever changed her. The gods themselves were asked to part with their powers, to disperse it so the old ones could not find their way back to Earth. She shed her divinity like a snake sheds its skin, then tucked it away in the depths of the waters. When the time came, she and the Architect came to me to ask for my help. That lake and the structure beneath it are her bones, laid to rest in this place."

"Did you have to give away your powers as well?" he asked. "When the Others came?"

Pelé nodded. "I did. While I may not be as formidable as I once was, I am still the goddess and protector of these lands. I am at my strongest here. But leaving Hawaii is no longer an option. Even setting foot on the shores of your land would take me too far from my domain, and I would be no more than a woman with fiery delusions of grandeur."

"I'm sorry." He leaned on the railing next to her. "That really sucks."

Pelé said nothing, her eyes on the island below. "My sister was tasked with hiding something," she explained. "And I believe it is time for you to see it. But first, your friends."

"What about them?" He looked back toward the cabana. Leilani was stretched out on the bed while Opal was sitting on the floor, rubbing Smoke's belly. Daisy had joined in on the fun, burying her whole body in the dog's fur.

"Not them. The others." She pointed at the island below. "They are down there."

Mike frowned. "Why? Did they do something wrong?"

Pelé chuckled. "They did not. But they came in beneath the earth and the guardian intercepted them."

"So what is the guardian, anyway?" He followed Pelé as she led him along the bluff and onto a steep set of stairs that descended into the caldera. Looking back, he signaled to Leilani and Opal that they were okay to stay behind. Opal gave him a double thumbs up, and started signing to Smoke that he was a very good boy.

"It wasn't just the arrival of the outsiders that weakened me," Pelé said as they walked the stone stairs. Mike frowned when he realized she had dodged his question about the guardian. "I assume you are familiar with how belief and divinity are intertwined."

"I am."

The gods needed believers to acquire more power than they had before. Someday, Yuki would go through the process, maybe even Ratu as well. As for Mike, he doubted he would ever experience such an apotheosis. He had zero interest in followers.

"Though their numbers were few, the native people here were strong in their beliefs. But some of the deities, they were too greedy. They created a system of taboos that the people would seek to break. So while the strength of our own pantheon was waning, the Christian god's missionaries came along in the 1800s to finish the job. Losing so many of our followers all at once was like falling ill and never recovering." Pelé looked back at him. "This was part of the reason my sister agreed to the Architect's scheme."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "Even though so many of our people had stopped believing in us, we never stopped believing in them. They are like our children, and we love them even though we've grown apart. My sister wanted to be part of that solution, to leave behind a legacy for our people."

"Out of curiosity, why not you?" he asked.

The ground rumbled beneath him, and Pelé sighed. "I've asked myself the same thing. Sometimes I wonder if my sister offered because she was hoping I would take her place instead. Maybe she did it solely so she could lord it over me from the afterlife. I knew that my people still needed someone to lead them if they ever strayed too far from the path. As for my sister, she realized that her own time was coming to an end."

"Because people stopped believing in her?"

The goddess stopped on the steps and looked back at him. "Belief is only one part of the equation," she said with a sad look in her eyes. "Do you know how many gods are in charge of the ocean?"

"Several," he replied. "Or maybe one with many names."

She nodded. "A fair statement. It's not just that my sister has domain over the ocean. She was the ocean. The spirits of the water were interconnected in a way, their territories often overlapping. Some of those gods are gone forever, Caretaker, stolen away by lack of belief or the poison you put in the water."

"Pollution?" He frowned. "Are you saying gods can be killed with trash?"

"Your body is a temple, is it not? If you feed it good food and take care of it, it serves you well. Pollute it with poor nutrition, drugs, and a hard lifestyle, suddenly your body fails you when you need it most." Pelé sighed. "For me, it wasn't pollution. It was watching my own children turn away from me. If you ever have kids of your own, I hope you never experience such a feeling."

She turned and continued down the stairs. "When it first happened, I believed my people would see through the lies and false promises of the missionaries. But I often forget that mortals are very much like children, willing to believe any fairytale they've been told enough times."

"God makes false promises?"

Pelé snorted. "No. But His missionaries do. That's what happens when you stop speaking to them in person and leave an instruction manual instead. A lot is left open for interpretation and converting believers became more important than spreading the truth."

"Which is what?"

"Every divine being has their own truth, Caretaker. To understand their truth is to know them better."

"I see."

He followed Pelé down the mountain, already begrudging the climb they would have to make back up later. Maybe he'd luck out and there'd be a portal back up, or perhaps he could get Reggie to send some rats out this way to install one. The cabana would work, he just needed to snap some photographs on his phone and get them to the Rat King along with general coordinates to make it happen.

Down by the lake, the smell of sulfur came and went with the wind, and Mike paused to sniff at the air. "It's safe down here, right?" he asked. "The air won't hurt me?"

"If it did, you'd be dead already." She grinned, showing all her teeth. "I've been manipulating the air this whole time. Otherwise, yes, you would have died."

"Ah. Well thank you, then." They moved toward the shore where a canoe had been pulled up onto the black sand beach. "It just occurred to me to ask; were you the one who boiled the water?"

Pelé paused to look at him, then nodded. "I was there when it happened, yes. And I helped."

"Why?" he asked.

"I must show you something first," she said, then gestured to the boat. "Then I shall reveal everything."

Mike kept his mouth shut. This was one of Amymone's least favorite story tropes, but he wasn't going to call out Pelé on it. Not only was this a real life situation, but debating a goddess on the merits of proper storytelling was just a bad idea all around. Though Pelé was keeping her powers subdued, even a cursory examination of her soul was like staring into the heart of a hungry flame, eager to consume.

Pondering the many different reasons Pelé would have for flash-boiling the merfolk, Mike tried to tune into cat radio while descending. He was never going to establish a proper connection with Kisa while climbing down a mountain, but he would at least get a vague sense of her mood. After several minutes of concentration, he picked up a few bits of minor annoyance. Whatever was going on hadn't bothered the catgirl much, which was a good sign. He would make time to check in with her later.

"Does the sun ever set here?" he asked, realizing that it had been nearly evening when they arrived.

Pelé nodded, then looked up at the sky. "This place was originally built closer to the place of my birth, so it will go down in a couple of hours. The sky is nothing short of spectacular, though it will look very different from the one you're used to."

"Because it's in a different hemisphere?" he asked.

"No." They were almost to the bottom of the steps now. "Are you familiar with how a patchwork quilt is made?"

Mike nodded. "The general idea, yes."

"Good. This place was a scrap of fabric that was detached from our world. The hole was patched so nobody knows any better. You still have to store that fabric somewhere, Caretaker." She gestured toward the sky. "It is simple enough to assume that you are looking at light from our sun, but you aren't."

"That's...so you're saying this place is like a tiny planet in a different star system?"

"No. I'm saying that the sky above is a scrap as well. Someone has stolen a piece of the sky and placed it here." Pelé stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked back at him. "Do you know why the outsiders came to our world?"

"To devour everything, right?"

Pelé nodded. "They are powerful, interdimensional beings capable of swallowing worlds and eventually reality itself. But you can't think of it as large scale beings devouring our home as if it were luau pig fresh from the fire. What they consume is simply gone as if it never was. It now lies outside of time and space. As for what they leave behind..." She looked up at the sky. "This particular piece of sky was missed, left to float in the void. The Architect snatched it up and stitched it to this place, creating a tiny, magical world capable of sustaining life on its own."

Mike licked his lips in excitement, thinking of the tower world through the wardrobe at home. "Did the Architect make all the extra-dimensional spaces?"

"No. This is a power available to some of the gods, or those on their way to becoming one. There were other beings capable of magic this powerful, but they were wiped out centuries ago by a powerful wish." The goddess turned away from him and headed for the canoe. "You can swim if you want, but the water is like a hot tub. I wouldn't recommend it."

"I'm always down for a boat ride." Together, they pushed the canoe toward the water and got in. Pelé pulled out a paddle and dipped it into the water. She sang as she rowed, the canoe moving quite fast across the lake toward the small island. Mike leaned back and let out a sigh, his eyes focused on the sky.

When the song ended, he asked "So everything out there is gone now?"

"It is. If you could fly into the sky, you would soon learn that there is no escape from here. It's all looped in on itself, like those snow globes humans are so obsessed over." Pelé chuckled. "I was always a fan of lava lamps."

"You must have loved the seventies."

"Free love? Passion?" For a brief moment, Pelé was no longer an old woman, but a beautiful maiden in her twenties. Her obsidian eyes sparkled like glittering diamonds and he felt his magic lurch hungrily in her direction. Suddenly, she was old once again and the connection was gone. "It was certainly an interesting time."

"Did you...I mean..." Mike rubbed his chest. It felt like he'd pulled a muscle.

"There's a reason I took this form, Caretaker, and clamped down on my magic. When I said that you and I are the same in many ways, I was not being hyperbolic." Pelé leaned over the side of the canoe and let her fingers trail across the water. The boat continued moving on its own. "I must say that I am surprised that you are a man."

"I get that a lot."

The goddess leaned back and studied him. "I met your predecessor once. A woman by the name of Katherine."

Mike frowned. "I don't think any of the Caretakers I've heard about were named Katherine."

"Your home is much older than you're aware of, Caretaker, and has been moved many times. I traveled there once only as a precautionary measure, to meet the person who would be entrusted with this place. For centuries, this island was passed down amongst native islanders, each of them granted the title of Kahu. They were meant to be the protectors of this place and the treasure it holds." Pelé shook her head. "It pained me to see the final Kahu hand over ownership to the one called Caretaker, but it was a means to an end."

"What happened?"

The water outside the canoe burbled, and steam formed into billowing clouds. The jungle and sheer cliffs surrounding the lake disappeared in the fog that formed, and Mike found himself watching as spectral figures formed.

"That would be my sister," Pelé whispered. "She would show you herself."

The clouds shifted and piled on top of each other and the world around them transformed. It was in shades of gray, and Mike was now floating off the coast of what he could only assume was Hawaii proper. A large ship with massive sails approached the bay where native islanders watched in anticipation.

"The outside world found them," a voice whispered in his ear. "A harbinger of things to come."

The scene vanished, replaced now by islanders in battle with each other. Though the scene was gray, a crimson river flowed into the phantom ocean, staining the waves. An older woman wearing a dress and clutching a necklace made of shells and shark teeth stood watch from a bluff up above. Her eyes glowed like the moon, and she carried a large wooden staff with her. Mike felt an odd kinship with her.

"War among our own," the voice continued. "Like poison in a well."

The scene shifted again, and Mike saw the woman once more. She was speaking to some children and a pair of adults, and they were sitting in the same cabana from the top of the cliff. The adults seemed enraptured by what the woman had to say, but the children didn't look easily impressed. The scenes continued shifting until the woman was old and frail. When she passed on her staff to a younger woman reluctance was painted on the recipient's face.

"The Kahu always passed the responsibility to the next in line, but they were easily swayed by what the bigger world had to offer." Mist caressed Mike's neck, and he realized it was now so thick he couldn't see the canoe anymore. "It was a life-long responsibility, but they no longer wanted it."

"I'm sorry," he whispered into the fog, but got no answer. When the scene shifted again, it was similar to the first one. Native islanders were watching the waves as yet another ship arrived, but this one he recognized. It was the same one piloted by Captain Francois de la Douchebag, or whatever his actual name was. When it landed on the shore, the dead rose from the waves and spread out once they reached the treeline.

"He came looking for the fountain of youth," Namakaokahai whispered in his ear. From the corner of his eye, he thought he could make out her body. When he turned his head to look, she was already gone. "But he discovered something far more powerful."

"What was it?" Mike asked. The scene shifted, and he was looking at yet another woman carrying the staff. This time, she stood on a ridge looking down at the ocean as Francois and his army tried to climb up the mountain. At her side, Pelé stood with a grim look on her face.

As if in fast forward, the scene changed, revealing how Francois and his army drew ever closer to the top of the mountain. The Kahu used her staff to summon torrential rains and create mudslides, but the dead persisted. Eventually, the scene transformed so that Mike now saw the Kahu standing at the mouth of the cave, staring out into the Big Bog as torchlights moved toward her.

"It was all a part of the Great Game," said Namakaokahai. "And so a drastic choice was made." The Kahu and her family gathered at the mouth of the cave, grim determination on their faces as they fled out into the bog and up the steep mountain paths toward the top of the volcano. Once atop the ridge, the Kahu gazed down with tear-filled eyes and threw her staff into the jungle below.

"I don't understand. She just...gave it up?" Mike felt fingers touch the back of his neck, and then the mists parted. The visions vanished, and he realized the hand touching him belonged to Pelé.

"She did. It was a choice made without my input." Pelé's eyes flashed, and the caldera rumbled. The fog disappeared, revealing that they were now across the lake. "You see, the Kahu had access to a place where all the players in the Great Game can meet and speak, a type of dream world. It was there that she found someone like herself, a woman whose primary purpose was to guard and protect. Even better, she was land-locked, meaning that Captain Francois could not easily obtain his goals of conquest. And so this place was gifted away to become part of what would become your inheritance, and I used my powers to make the Kahu's family forget where it was."

"Damn." Mike shook his head and stared into the canoe. So much had already been lost protecting this place, and now it was under threat once again. After centuries of scheming, he had been lured here and the Captain had been waiting. "I knew that coming was a trap, but didn't realize how deep the plot ran."

"You have been the Caretaker for such a short time, yet have amassed tremendous power. I believe that alone is why you have survived." The canoe's bottom brushed against sand, indicating they had arrived. "And now it is time to show you that legacy, what this place was built to protect."

The structure was hexagonal in shape and carved from what appeared to be a single piece of stone. Mike felt like they were stepping into a temple, and was mildly surprised at how much warmer it was inside. In the center of the hexagon was a thick stone column. Along the walls of the room, ancient glyphs had been carved, all of them glowing in response to their presence. A set of stairs had been built nearby, and Mike realized that the temple itself was just the top of a tower set deep into the earth.

"I don't suppose there's a slide we could use?" he asked as Pelé moved toward the stairs. The goddess scowled at him, but then her features softened.

"I often forget that humor is a tool wielded by those who skipped leg day." She winked, then turned to begin her descent. "Maybe now that you're here, you can put in a rail to slide down on."

They descended into the ground, their passage illuminated by the runes in the wall. The temperature climbed, and Mike regretted not drinking any water when he had the chance. It wasn't until several minutes later that they emerged in a chamber shaped like a dwelling. Wicker furniture had been placed around the room, and he spotted Ratu reclining on a nearby chair.

"Hey!" He jogged past Pelé and was almost to the naga before she was on her feet. Before he could say anything else, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed so tightly he thought his lungs might burst.

"You're okay," Ratu whispered in his ear, relieved.

"Yeah," he gasped out. "But not...for...long."

"You stupid, stupid man." She let go and pushed him back, her fingers sliding beneath his shirt to where he had been shot. "You're aware that naga hide would have prevented this, yes?"

He winced inwardly, then nodded. "Yeah, a mistake on my part."

"A nearly fatal mistake." She pulled him in for a kiss, but stopped when her eyes went over his shoulder to where Pelé stood. "My apologies," she muttered as she stepped away from Mike.

"Don't allow my presence to soften your reunion." Pelé moved past the two of them toward a small opening in the wall. "Has the other one awakened yet?"

Ratu shook her head. "No. Ingrid is still unconscious."

"What happened? Is she okay?" Mike looked around the room. "And where's Quetzalli?"

"Ingrid had a very nasty shock, but we can deal with that later. Quetzalli is down below. Mike, things are about to get very interesting." Ratu's eyes moved back and forth between him and Pelé. "How much has the goddess told you?"