Eighth Grave After Dark Page 34

“Gotcha. Going with god. And we have seven.”

“You had seven. Eventually, through time, there were thirteen total entities, including you. But you are the only one left. The last of your kind.”

I did the dramatic thing again and Reyes laughed again.

He pushed my hair out of my face. Tucked it behind an ear. “The original seven weren’t like your god. They could procreate, but only once.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why only once?”

“Because once they created another god, what I’m calling a ghost god, they melded together and became one. They ceased to exist. Their union created another being—”

“Like Beep!”

“—like Beep, only they converged into one being, a single ghost god, with all the power of the two that merged to produce it. Therefore, the new entity is more powerful than the individual gods that created it. It’s like two stars colliding to create a single supernova, one that can live forever and has an endless supply of energy. And now, in a process that took millions of years, or even billions, all of the original gods have converged, either with each other or with another ghost god, until there is only one left. And they were magnificent. They were great celestial beings floating in space with the power of a billion suns.”

I sat back, impressed. “Okay, this is a really cool story.”

“Thank you.”

“But why am I the first as well as the last?”

“If you do that math—”

I gaped at him in horror. I had no idea there would be math involved.

He ignored me. “—you’ll realize that seven original gods, and the ghost gods they created, could only have produced a thirteenth if all of them had eventually merged. All seven of the original gods and three of the original ghost gods had merged until only two ghost gods were left. For the first time, two ghost gods, with the power of all those who came before them, merged and you were created from their union.”

I squeezed my eyes and tried to envision the process. “I don’t think you’re very good at math.”

“I’m very good at math.” He took a pencil and paper and drew me a chart with X’s representing the originals and O’s representing their offspring, the ghost gods. He was right. Seven, when boiled down to one, was thirteen total. Seven original and six ghosts.

“So, it’s like my mother and my father gave up their lives to create me?”

“Yes, and no,” Osh said. “They still live inside you. If this is right, the power surging through every cell in your body could destroy this universe. Could destroy a million universes and everything in them. Thankfully, your species is very kind. I like to think the gods before you are sort of like—” He looked at Reyes for the word.

“Like counselors,” Reyes offered.

“Exactly. They’re like counselors. They’re still there inside you, in the consciousness and memories that define your genetic make up. You’re just a separate entity”

“So, to answer your question,” Reyes said, “you are the first pure ghost god, the only one created from two ghost gods. And because there are no more, you are also the last.”

“That’s kind of sad,” I said. “But they’re all still here?” I placed a hand over my heart.

“Like advisors.”

“Think about it, though,” Osh said, gazing at me in awe. “All that power, all that energy, the potency of seven original gods, has been harvested and passed down to you.”

Reyes looked at Osh and did something I’d never seen him do. He sought Osh’s counsel. “This is where I get lost.”

Osh nodded to encourage him.

“Why is she here on this plane? If she is the last god of her universe, of her people, the very last of her kind, why is she here?”

“That’s something even I can’t fathom.”

“The first time we had sex,” I said, making Reyes a little uncomfortable and Osh perk up, “I saw you see me.” I looked at him. “I saw you pick me out of a thousand beings of light. They were all just like me. There has to be more of us.”

“They were not all just like you. To give you a metaphor of what your dimension is like, imagine God, the god of this dimension, among his angels. He is not one of them. He created them. He has the power to reduce them all to ash with a single thought, but he still lives among them. And his angels, while more powerful than the mortal life in his realm, are not like him, though they are made of a similar substance. Of a similar light.”

“So you saw me among my angels?”

“Metaphorically speaking. And, again, you have to understand, all of this took place over millions of years. Probably billions. The gods of your dimension are more ancient than any other beings I’ve ever come across.”

I had an epiphany. “Then I’m older than you.”

“What?” he asked.

“You may be centuries old, but I’m older. I’m millions of years old.”

He grinned. “Yes.”

“I robbed the cradle,” I said, quite pleased with myself. “I wish I remembered all of this.”

“From what I understand, you will once you know your celestial name. It’s like a safety switch. But you aren’t supposed to know your celestial name until your physical body dies.”

“But I did die!” I argued. “When the Twelve attacked us. I stuck a blade in my chest and died, baby. I saw the heavens above us. Trust me.”

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