Pantheon Book 2: The Way of the Tao

Trespassing

Melody spends the next few days in her room, weaving magic into the treaty. As much as she hates it, she's positive that the monkey-faced man is telling the truth. When Erlang arrives, she doesn't want him to be able to just grab it and run. Even more so, she doesn't want Marcus to be able to snatch it from her pocket again. Even if he's on her side, she would feel more comfortable keeping it on her person.

First, she enchants it so she can fold it as much as she wants without damaging it. Then she enchants one of the inside pockets of her favourite bag - a green one with floral patterns on the sides - so that she's the only one that can see the zipper. And finally, she enchants both the bag and the treaty so that only she can open them.

After two days of working on it, she takes a step back, nodding to herself proudly. It isn't much, and since she's only an apprentice, a fully trained god could probably break through both enchantments easily. But they'd have to find them first. She stretches, feeling her stiff legs and back give a satisfying crack.

Having locked herself away for so long, Melody takes a breath, throwing the bag over her shoulder as she heads up to the deck. She misses the sea breeze, the sun, and the rolling waves passing them by. Plus, they should be getting close to their destination by now - she might be able to see Japan on the horizon. She hurries up the steps excitedly, taking them two at a time. Melody's never been overseas - in fact, she's never even left America. As she emerges onto the deck, she wonders what her first trip to Japan will be like. If only she was going as a tourist.

The first thing Melody notices is the crowd on the deck. Half a dozen clones of Marcus and Oliver stand facing off, sparring with various types of weapons. A swarm of carnivorous animals' slash and snap their jaws at a few more Olivers, who skitter away from them. One of each, who Melody assumes to be the originals, stands in the center of the chaos, staring at each other. Marcus has his arms crossed, while Oliver grips Caduceus tightly, his head hanging forward.

"Focus, you're slowing down," Marcus says, closing his eyes. Another clone steps out of him, and Oliver whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut. Caduceus glows, and a blurry, mishappen copy appears at his side. "Don't focus on any one copy at a time. They all need your attention. They're all you."

"R-right..." Oliver says weakly. The new copies lunge at each other and start to clash, joining the crowd. Some of the Oliver clones stumble, getting slashed or clawed. The Marcus copies move quickly, indistinguishable from the original. Melody takes a second to count them, humming appreciatively when she finds over 20 on each side.

"You're flickering," Marcus adds, waving his hand at a few of the groups. Oliver's copies shiver like TV static, and the original grunts as he tries to hold their form. "Good, keep them solid. But don't forget to fight. Every one that shows signs of being fake makes it easier to find the real you."

"I-I'm trying...!" Oliver grunts. All of his copies pop, losing their imperfections. He grunts again as they go on the attack, but Marcus's copies easily counter.

"You're doing well. But the real test is endurance. We'll keep this pace for three more hours." Marcus replies flatly. Oliver whimpers and a few of his copies begin to fuzz again.

"Have you two been training all day?" Melody calls, deciding to save Oliver. He immediately drops to his knees, his clones blinking away. Every Marcus copy slowly turns to face her, then fade away one at a time.

"The last two days. Pretty much since you locked yourself in your room," He explains with a shrug. "I figured we should be ready. And having two tricksters will be better than one."

"E-even though illusions won't work on Erlang..." Oliver adds between ragged breaths.

"If you teach your copies how to fight, you'll learn how to fight too," Marcus says with a sigh. He turns back to Melody with his usual squinting glare. He's wearing the same clothes as always, but they're clean and wrinkle-free. Oliver, meanwhile, is wearing a new green t-shirt and baggy brown shorts, drenched in sweat. "How long until we make land?" Marcus says.