"So tell me more about these gods you've talked to."
Sean sat on the rail fence while I was on my back bench-pressing my favorite boulder. We'd just finished a lesson of magic using his ontoscopes, and physical training felt much more appealing at the moment than mental. Possibly likely to squash me, but that would still be less painful than trying to work with Sean's Wizard Glasses.
"Oh boy," I said, "Just the conversation I wanted to have with you. Well, I'll answer your question if you answer mine. Have you managed to figure out where Pantagruel is yet?"
"Some place without reflective surfaces. Pat, there's only so much we can do. I'm sorry."
"We shall have to pool our intellect then," I said, "And look for the proper spells."
Sean brought his spellbook out of his cloak. He flipped through the pages. "Oh yes," he said, "Let me just search for the perfect spell that will go through all the dozens of scrying wards the Wizard Police are likely to have surrounding him. It can't possibly be anywhere NEAR the back of the book. It MUST be a spell a first-year student at the academy can do, no danger, no fuss, nothing likely to explode in my face. Let's see...not on page 100...not on page 200...not on page 400...ah, here we go. 'Advanced scrying', page 956. 'Warning: do not attempt to use these spells without something nearby to drain excess magical energy, and let's be honest you should write your will and tell your loved ones that you're taking a big risk, you gambler.'"
"Does the book really say that."
"The process of adding to the book is somewhat free-form," said Sean, shutting the book with a thwap. "If you manage to discover something new with your ontoscopes, you submit your findings to the book itself, not a body of editors. Now, since I have answered your question -- "
"I've got another one. What would you do if you could actually find him and reach him?"
Sean frowned. "God dammit, Pat, if you had asked any other question I'd refuse to answer. Jeez, alright. I'd get in there and cover him with my cloak. Wouldn't save him from what's already been done to him, but it would send a pretty strong message, and prevent further...beatings."
"You sound like you're familiar with this process."
"Don't ask. Now, getting back to the issue of -- "
"What if I had the chance to find him?"
"I'd ask why you haven't tried already, hmmm?" Sean gave me the old stink-eye.
"I was waiting for any results from Sameer." I put the boulder aside, stood up, and grabbed it again. Time for arm-extended squats. "if I ask various bricks and paving stones, maybe they can tell me where the secret underground location of the Wizard Police Station -- "
"It's a big building with faux roman columns on Michigan Avenue. And now, if you please, I would like to discuss the subject that has to do with this whole 'asking the bricks' thing. And I'm not going to tolerate any further interruptions. Alright?" He sighed. "I'm sorry that I sound like a hard-ass right now, but you're being fairly glib with a subject that is dear to my heart. When you said you'd met a god...not God, but A god...can you imagine what that would sound like to a Muslim?"
"I, uh..." I set the boulder down and sat atop it. "I didn't really want to broach the subject."
"Well, one of us had to. You left me disturbed and highly curious back there in the dorm room. Gods, plural? Where are you getting this idea?"
"Ever seen the Machine Heart of New York?"
Sean raised an eyebrow. "I can imagine New York's heart is a machine, but you sound like you're talking literally."
I related to Sean my adventure within the world-sized factory.
Sean whistled. "That's a hell of a lot of revalations in a single day."
"I don't know how long it was. When you're underground time doesn't really pass the way it does aboveground. But my point is, I met this machine-woman who commanded an entire mechanical world, who was the embodiment of that world, who had absolute power in a magical sense. What was I supposed to call her? Spirit? Angel? Demon? None of the categories of divine being available under monotheism work for that sort of creature. And neither do Djinni and Ifrit and whever else the Arabs have in their stories. Sean, there's a class of beings that are a higher power than us mere mortals. They command vast areas and vast ideas."
"Do you know for certain that there's mroe of them than this Great Machine Woman?"
"Chicago seems to be a discrete spiritual entity, if my dreams are any indication." I drummed my fingers on the boulder. "Coyote prowls the edge of the city and whispers HIS thoughts in my ear. There's this fellow named Sam Hill who apparently scares the crap out of the librarians at the academy, and his name whispers through the hills, assuming it isn't Coyote doing that. That's who I've found so far...I'm not trying to shake your faith, Sean, I'm just asking that you be flexible enough to consider the possibility of Henotheism."
"What is -- "
I related to Sean my conversation with my old Rabbi.
Sean whistled. "I can't believe he let that one slide."
"Sean -- "
"Look, part of the reason I find Islam appealing is because the whole issue of divine beings is simplified. You don't have a hundred different gods running around with different priorities and dictates and battles in heaven, and you don't have a God that manages to split the properties of divinity between three faces and cast all manner of confusion on which face means what. Just one God to obey, nice and simple. And here you come telling me you've met some being of a higher power, and you use a word that links it to divinity." He smeared his hand down his face. "I hate to tell you what exact words to use. That sounds so...trivial. And yet..."
"What do you want out of me, if you are so concerned? How can I assuage your frustration?"
"I want to meet one of these 'gods' of yours. And I want to know precisely who they answer to and whether they consider themselves divine or in any way god-like. I want to ask them what they think of their existence."
I felt the blood draining out of my face. "You want to walk up to a being of higher power and just demand answers?"
"You told me you faced the Machine Heart of New York and survived."
"That was different! She was -- is -- my sister. There was a family connection there I could work on."
"Blood relation definitely didn't save ME from beatings."
"Nor did Christianity, apparently. Is that why you joined Islam? You wanted to reject everything about your Irish Catholic upbringing?"
Sean frowned. "You have already heard from Aurore about the long years I spent in the house of Grosvenor. I did not have Islam then. I had Grosvenor and I had Aurore. But then Grosvenor himself turned out to be controlling and abusive, and when Aurora and I were on the road...I'd been forced to reject two different households, two fathers. I was down. I was about as down as I could go without setting myself on fire, and if Aurore hadn't been there I might have become a hard and cold person, unable to believe that anyone actually loved me. And then we met Sameer, and I watched him when he prayed, and when we were able to reach a mosque, well, there was a place of spiritual certainty that I'd been missing for a long time. BUT that's a story for another time. I should let Sameer explain his side of things. For now..." Sean rose from the fence. "As soon as you feel ready to plan another expedition, we should make our way into Green Chicago. We might find one of these beings of higher power. We might not. Who knows."
"At my rate of learning, an expedtion to Green Chicago will be waiting for months."
"All in good time."
"Pantagruel can't wait, though, can he? We need to find him."
"Make your inquiries and let me know what you've found." Sean clapped his hands, and a familiar blue cloak swirled out of thin air. Aurore swirled her cloak around Sean and they were gone.
And I was alone with the sheep, in my indefinite exile.