Chapter 10

Maxwell wondered off a few moments later, muttering something under his breath. I couldn't make it out, but I doubted he was singing my praises.

Ophois didn't stop growling until he was long out of sight around the construction barricades. Even then he stayed watchful, jumping at every sound.

I fell back onto the earth, letting out a long breath. Call it just my luck to be hounded by a god killing hippie who'd never even stopped to think about the morality of what he was doing.

Every so often I get bored and wish for something exciting to happen to me. I'm an idiot.

I glanced over to Alice. She'd still to say a single word. Her eyes were cemented to where Maxwell had slipped from sight.

"You okay over there?" I asked. I wanted to reach out and touch her but I still felt so drained that I was worried the spark might send me over the edge.

She didn't respond.

Taking a cue from me, Ophois stepped up to nudge her side.

I swear she screamed like a little girl and jumped three feet in the air.

I couldn't help but laugh.

"It's not funny!" She turned to me red faced. That just made me laugh harder.

"Okay, okay," was all I could get out for a few moments. "Sorry. You want to tell me what that was all about? You looked about ready to pass out back there. Aren't I the one who's supposed to be fearing for my existence here? I doubt he could do anything to you."

"It's not that..."

I took a deep breath to steady myself and scooted around to meet her face-to-face. "You want to start talking to me, Alice? I've got a feeling you know more than you're letting on."

She looked over my shoulder, out towards the waves that rolled behind me.

"I remember him." Her voice was no more than a whisper.

Now we're getting somewhere.

I edged closer, just short of setting my hand on her shoulder. "Who is he, Alice? Anything you know could be important."

She closed her eyes for a moment. "He's my father."

Okay... that was unexpected.

"My father's dead, Robert. I swear! I'm over a hundred years old. He's dead. He has to be."

I backed away from her slightly. From the corner of my eye I could see Ophois' hackles begin to rise.

"Maybe agelessness runs in your family." I glanced back to where Maxwell had disappeared, fearing that he might return at any moment.

"He's dead. He has to be. I haven't seen him since I was ill. He wouldn't leave me like that. He's my father. He wouldn't abandon me... he has to be dead."

I took another look at Alice. Frankly, there wasn't much of a resemblance, but I couldn't discount it.

I was about to ask just how two generations of a family could reach immortality when a sinking feeling hit my gut.

"Alice," I tried to keep my voice light, "Didn't you say you lost your soul?"

She looked up to me. She'd yet to cry, but her eyes were puffy.

"Yeah. Why?"

"That's how you stopped ageing, right?" She didn't bother to respond, just nodded her head. I hesitated before continuing, "What happened to your soul?"

Her face screwed up for a moment before her eyes widened.

"No." Her voice was hard. "No. You're not suggesting he..."

I held my hands up. "I'm not suggesting anything. I've never heard of a single ageless mortal, now I've got two in the same family. Someone must have done something."

"Anyway," I forced us onto a different subject, "How do we know that was even him? Didn't you say I was being hunted by a master illusionist? Couldn't this all just be yet another illusion."

She shook her head slowly. "I'd know. I may not be as powerful as he is, but I'd be able to at least tell if an illusion was being spun."

"Wonderful." I huffed out a breath. "Well, there goes that easy out." I forced a laugh. "It seems like I've got a little more time on this earth, any suggestions to how I might spend it?"

We crossed back over to Mott Haven shortly thereafter.

I wandered aimlessly for a while, up and down the crowded streets as the two followed me.

It wasn't long before we found ourselves in the poorer parts of town again.

The buildings here were even worse off than the projects I lived in. Looking into the shadows I saw the forms of those that I very nearly knew well.

The world might be a happier and softer place now that Maxwell as plying his trade, but there were still the homeless and destitute. And these were mortals, not gods. The hunger that gnawed at their bellies was real.

I turned to Alice, "You remember what Maxwell said about me not helping people?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

A smile worked its way to my lips. "Why don't we do something about that? I may not have much time left on this earth, might as well make the best of it."

It took me a while to remember where I wanted to go. Saint Mary's Soup Kitchen. I'd never actually been there before, but many of the gods I knew had. I was able to track it down before too long.

The kitchen was located in just about the most run down part of New York there was. None of the buildings around here rose above two stories, and most of them were so damaged that they were falling apart under their own weight anyhow.

The kitchen itself was an old building, likely thrown together in the thirties. It was red fired brick and had been covered over so many times with graffiti that it seemed to be growing a coat of living multicoloured tattoos.

Alice glanced about nervously. "Robert, where are we?"

"Soup kitchen." I walked on, Ophois at my side. He glanced back at her with a huff. "Come on, there's nothing to worry about. People don't fight in places like this. You come here to survive, not grind others into the ground."

It was still early in the afternoon. There would be a line up soon enough, but right now the place seemed empty. There wasn't a client to be found... but even more strangely, there weren't any staff.

There should at least be a few people out and about this time of day. Someone had to be here to prep the food for the evening meal, and you couldn't run a place this size alone.

The front of the building was flat and unadorned, just a set of double doors cut into the wall. There wasn't even a name above them. I wouldn't have been able to tell I had the right place if it wasn't for a small clapboard sign out next to the road.

"Hello?" I poked my head through the unlocked door. The place was near pitch black. "Anyone here?" There was no answer.

Ophois was pushing past me now, walking unerringly into the cool darkness.

I paused a moment before following him. I had to remind myself that this was real, no illusions trying to suck me away.

I didn't have to worry long anyhow. I'd barely gotten more than two steps when Ophois barked in the darkness.

I ran into a half dozen tables getting to him. He was sitting next to a bank of switches, his tail wagging.

What's the worst that could happen? I hit the first switch. It was a big knife switch, like what you'd expect to see Doctor Frankenstein use to awaken his monster.

A set of lights began to slowly blaze to life out in the main room.

I hit another switch, then another. One by one the lights slowly came to life above us.

Ophois barked when I hit the last one. It brought a dozen or so appliances clattering to life in the next room.

"Where is everyone?" Alice walked over to join me. I noticed she'd stayed out in the sunlight until I'd gotten things working in here.

"Not a clue." I turned and headed down a hallway at random.

There were storerooms and walk in freezers down here but no staff. I was even able to find an office tucked away in one corner of the building.

The desk was spread with papers and the chair behind it threadbare. It looked like someone had simply stood up and forgotten to come back. The only thing missing was a steaming cup of half gone coffee.

I was about to give up and shut the place back down when a knock came from the back.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when it came again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" It was way in the rear. Someone was banging on the big loading door back there.

It took me a good five minutes to figure out how to even open it. There were no power door openers here, the only way to move it was by pulling on a rusty metal chain.

With a little help from Alice I was able to get it open and locked in place. We hardly had time to realize what was going on before a half dozen men swarmed in, carrying boxes.

"Hey, man." A large blond haired guy in a wife-beater and jeans walked up and seized my hand in his huge paw. "Heard Oscar had to move on. Guessing you're his replacement." He smiled, showing stained yellow teeth, "Name's Bruce. Hope you're up to this, me and the crew have a hell of a delivery today."

"Wait... what?" I hardly got the words out before he was gone, joining his men in carrying boxes of everything from green beans to rice and chicken out of the truck that had backed up to the loading dock.

It felt like I was stuck in the middle of a human whirlpool. I wasn't even sure what I was doing when I joined in and helped cart the food from the truck.

I did everything I could to catch Bruce's eye before he packed up to leave. In the end I just had to grab him by the collar and force him to stand still.

"Uh, what's going on?" I asked.

He gave me an odd look. "Aren't you taking over for Oscar and his bunch? He got a job and had to leave. I figured you were his replacement." He glanced behind me, as if seeing Alice for the first time, "Where's your crew? The two of you can't seriously be expecting to run this by yourselves."

I held my hands up. "I just wandered in off the street to volunteer. There wasn't a soul here."

The man's brow furrowed. "Seriously? Damn." He whistled to his men to keep them from driving away without him. "That's not good. Someone needs to run this place. You'll have at least a hundred hungry mouths to feed in just a few hours. They never told us this place was out of commission. And it's one of the busier ones too."

He glanced up the hallway towards the kitchen and let out a sigh.

"Well, I guess that's that." He continued, turning back towards the truck, "Fellas! This food's got to go back!"

"No, wait." I looked about. "Leave it here. I'll see what I can do." I hadn't the slightest idea what I was saying. I hadn't cooked for anyone since I'd died. This was stupid. "Leave it here, Bruce. We'll get it figured out. What time does this place open?"

He looked me up and down. "Six o'clock, usually."

I glanced up at a clock on the wall. It was three in the afternoon.

I don't think I've ever seen so much food stacked up in such a small space in my life.

Any of the staples you could ever want were here, fruit, vegetables, bread, and meat. There must be enough to feed a small army.

I dashed back towards the office I'd found earlier, Ophois and Alice on my heels.

"What are you doing?" It wasn't a long run, but Alice was breathless by the time we got there.

I didn't even bother glancing back towards her as I started shifting through the paperwork spread out across the desk. Bills, memos, timetables... there had to be a meal plan or a recipe book here somewhere.

"Seeing if I can keep this place running," was all I got out. I was all but upturning drawers by now. There was enough paperwork here to choke a horse, but nothing I could use.

"Why bother? It's just a soup kitchen. There has to be dozens across the city. Just put a sign up and let all the hungry go elsewhere." She rested against a shelf, watching me with an amused expression on her face.

"Why not?" I let out a sigh as I slumped back into the chair. "It's not like I've got anything better to do. Everyone keeps thinking that we gods are supposed to 'do good works'. Maybe they're right. The last thing I did of any value was to haul that kid from the ocean. Look what that got me." I snorted. "Maybe the only way to get out of having done a single selfless act is to follow it up with another. It's been long enough." A wry grin slipped to my lips, "I guess I might as well do something worth being worshipped over... or at least thanked."

I gave up searching for recipes and headed off to the kitchen. It wasn't much better there.

Things were all nice and clean, but I doubt any of the equipment had been replaced since the Carter administration.

All the appliances were heavy duty industrial. It took me almost twenty minutes of reading instructions just to get the first of the stoves lit.

Things did progress a little better after that. Ophois was of no help, but I finally got Alice up and moving.

She knew even less about cooking than I did, but she could clean the main eating area and transfer some of the ingredients to the cold storage before they began to go bad.

I hadn't even the slightest what I should be doing. I simply went from one stove to the next, lighting them up and setting whatever temperatures felt right.

I popped the top of the first box of produce that Alice had hauled in.

I wasn't sure if I should be elated or horrified. Potatoes.

It figures. Just figures.

I'd seen enough of these things back when I'd been alive to last me until the end of time. Now they had to come back and haunt me. I would have made a comment about this being stereotypical, but that would just as likely temp fate into delivering upon me a truck of Guinness - not that such would necessarily be a bad thing.

Okay... potatoes. What could I do with them? I'd known a dozen recipes for them back when I'd been alive... but now?

Well, when in doubt stick with the proven. Whatever I made it had to be quick, filling, and simple.

Stew.

Everyone else called it 'Irish Stew' but to me it was just stew. I'd grown up with it and there wasn't much in the world that was simpler to make.

Throwing a truly massive pot of water onto the largest stove in the kitchen, I called for Alice.

"Hey! I've got a job for you!"

She appeared a moment later. I noticed there were a few new scuff marks on her coat.

"What?" She didn't exactly sound enthused.

I pointed a thumb at the box of potatoes.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me! That's what they give to people as punishment!"

I smiled. "Either you can do it or I can get Ophois. Just remember, you'll be eating it afterwards along with everyone else."

You would have thought I'd just shoved a lemon down her throat.

She did, in good time, set off to find a peeler, and I was none too surprised to hear the cursing that came up when she finally got started.

Yep. Peeling potatoes, one thing I don't miss about back home.

Okay, what else to throw in the stew? Carrots, parsley... whatever other vegetables I could find. They were all simple enough. I tossed them aside by the fistful to deal with later.

Now I just needed some meat. The traditional choice would be lamb, but good luck finding any here. I did however have chicken. It would have to do.

I set a few more pots of water on the stove for good measure and found myself a nice sharp knife to get cutting.

I had just enough time to get myself covered to the elbows in chicken guts when Ophois perked up. A moment later he was out the door like a bolt of lightning.

I wasn't too sure what to expect. I followed a few moments later, still clad in my blood stained apron and carrying a knife the size of my forearm.

An just laughed at me.

He and Lenpw were seated out in the main eating area at one of the long tables, like they expected to get wait service.

"I leave you for a few hours and you go native!" He had a smile on his lips, but I could see an unease in his eyes. The Egyptian god of death was scared.

Ophois and Lenpw were sitting next to each other in a corner of the room.

"What are you doing here?" I worked up a smile as I waved him back into the kitchen. He followed along with a low whistle.

"Nice little setup you got going here, Robert." He lifted the lid off a bubbling stew pot, "What is this, feed the world day?"

I flicked my fingers and pulled the steam towards his face without even thinking.

"Oi! Hey, quit it!" He pulled back, but I pulled the scalding steam to follow him like a cloud of hornets.

Another flick of my fingers and the steam was gone as if it had never existed, dispersed into the air.

I stared down at my hands. I'd never done that before. I could... I've always known I could... but I'd hardly used my powers for anything.

"Uh, sorry. It's been a long day." I turned back to where the half eviscerated chicken still sat before me. I slammed my knife down like I was fighting for my life.

"Heh, yeah, says you." I glanced over to, much to my surprise, see An beside me with a chicken of his own. He cut in with at least as much vengeance as I had if not more. "It's days like these that make me remember why I got the hell out of this place. This stinking, putrid, hole of a town."

"James wouldn't talk to you?" I rolled my eyes. The schism between the new and old gods was legendary. It wasn't that they fought anymore... at least not outright. Let's just say that when you got up to the level that people like An used to be at... the fall from power was a little bit harder.

"I wouldn't know." He slammed the knife down so hard that it sliced right through the bird's bones and clunked solidly into the well worn cutting board beneath. "I couldn't even get in to see him."

"Huh?" That was weird. An still had enough power to be a halfway formidable deity. And even discounting that, he'd been high up enough in his heyday that James should be happy to talk to him.

"That damned angel at the door wouldn't even let me in."

I would have raised a hand to my brow if I hadn't been covered to the elbows in blood. "You're kidding me. Raph again? Why'd he block you?"

I was just glad An wasn't the god of fire. His glare alone was nearly enough to set my hair aflame.

"They're too frightened to allow their sweet Jesus room to do anything more than dream. I've never seen so many angels in one place. There had to be over a hundred of them packed into that little brownstone."

This was not a good sign. Not once in my entire existence had the angels closed ranks.

"Why? James is in no danger. The only people Maxwell is going after are the minor gods."

He snorted. "Looks like one of their newer angels got bumped off a few nights ago. They only just found out. Expect it of them to take the slightest sign as a screaming declaration of war. They truly believe this bogeyman of yours is out for his blood and wants to prevent Judgement Day." He drew in a breath for another rant before stopping dead. Even the knife in his hand became still as stone. "Wait." He turned to me, dark eyes narrowed to slits, "What did you say? Maxwell?"

I swallowed. I didn't like the way he was looking at me. Like I was a piece of fresh meat.

"Yeah," I stuttered, "We, uh, ran in to him this afternoon. Over on Randell's Island."

"You what!" He tossed the knife aside. It buried itself blade first in the wall a good ten feet away. "You found the god-killer!" He paused for a moment and reassessed me, eyes travelling up and down my body like he was going to tailor me a new suit. "What happened?" His voice brooked no argument.

"We were just out on a walk, really, the three of us. We stopped by the ocean and he strolled up beside us. He didn't even seem to want to fight."

An took a step towards me and I pressed back up against the counter. I still had a butcher's knife in my limp hand, forgotten. Not that it would have done me much good.

"Ophois!" He turned from me a moment later and ran out to the eating area where the two dogs were still laying side by side.

I couldn't read canine expression, but I knew that look when Ophois reached his paws up to cover his head.

The next part almost looked like something out of a surrealist horror movie. Never breaking stride, An reached out a hand to Lenpw and the two of them merged into the true form of Anubis. The fearsome jackal headed god of Egyptian myth.

His musclebound hands wrapped around the now cringing white form of Ophois as he lifted him clear off the ground until they were face to face.

Whatever they spoke now, it was not dog.

The words flowed from Anubis' lips in a torrent. I couldn't even hope to make out a single thing. Somehow I doubted that any mortal had spoken these words in over a millennium.

My jaw finally hit the floor when Ophois answered back in the same language.

He didn't even seem to have any difficulty forming the sounds with his dog lips. The two of them remained there, almost stock still, throwing what even I could tell were obscenities, back and forth until at long last Anubis dropped him to the ground.

Ophois landed perfectly, his claws not even clicking on the hard tile floor.

"And you!" The dark god turned to me, his finger outstretched as he stalked forward. "You led him into this, my brother! He has already lost half his soul and you led him back into danger!"

I was about to make a run for it when Ophois raced around Anubis to place himself between us. The dog's teeth were bared.

Once again Ophois spoke. The words were just as incomprehensible as before, but I felt it best not to interrupt him.

When he finally fell silent I stepped up to stand behind his white form, my hand falling across his back.

"Anubis," I stumbled for words, "I'm not trying to hurt anybody. Least of all Ophois or Wep."

The jackal bared his teeth for a moment. I'm not ashamed to admit that, despite my immortality, I was scared.

And then he was gone. In his place stood An and Lenpw.

"Fine." They both eyed me carefully, but it was An who spoke. "You have the trust of Ophois, and he is the only one who truly matters now."

I had the feeling I'd just been slighted, but I wasn't about to complain.

The two of them muscled past us. A few moment's later I could hear the sound of chopping from back in the kitchen. An must have pulled his knife free of the wall. I hoped he'd washed it.

I stumbled unsteadily to a nearby bench. Ophois was at my side, taking my weight. It wasn't until I finally sat down and drew a long, stuttering breath that I began to yell.

Ophois moved fast the moment he realized what was going on, but not fast enough. I had my hands around his head, holding him tight by his mane as he tried to pull away.

"You can talk!?" The fact he'd been in conversation with Anubis hadn't escaped me. "I've been looking after you this long, and you can talk!"

He pointedly looked away from me, burying his eyes in the floor between us. And of course he didn't say a word.

I felt like smacking him across the nose.

"Just say something, anything!" I finally released him. He scuttled back a few feet, still sitting. Just far enough away to be out of reach.

I paused for a moment before speaking again. My voice nearly broke when I did. "You're the same person Wep was? Right? You know how close we were. I knew him fifty years, for God's sake! All this and you won't even talk to me? You spent all this time making me think you were just a dog when you were him, really him." I had to stop.

While it was true that Wep and I hadn't been that close, he was still the only god that I could really call a good friend...

Ophois' mouth opened, then shut without a sound. He tried again, this time all that came forth was a squeak. It sounded off, coming from a dog his size.

"Your words... not easy... me," was all he could choke out before falling silent again.

I watched him slack jawed. The voice that came from him was harsh and inhuman. I guess that would make sense as he was forcing it from the throat of a dog.

He finally looked up at me, his blue eyes holding mine.

"But why?" I spoke slowly, suddenly wondering just how much he did and didn't understand. "You could have spoken at any time. Told me what happened."

He made a choking sound, "Not man... Wep was man... not me. Easier to be... dog. What expected." Each word that came from him sounded like it took all the effort he had. "Better Egyptian... native."

I slouched down on the bench. "Wonderful. Now I really have hit rock bottom. Outsmarted by a dog."

His tail began to wag. I'd almost have thought he was enjoying this.

"Fine." I glared at him. "What do you remember of Wep's disappearance?"

He whimpered and pulled his ears back. "Nothing. Told... everything. Place missing from mind." He looked away.

The sound that came from him next was universal, it didn't matter if you were human or canine. He wailed.

I hardly even noticed the sound of cutting stop in the kitchen as I reached down to soothe Ophois' furred back. It was long moments before his cry finally quieted. It never quite stopped, only faded away into nothing.

I didn't even know what to say. I couldn't tell him everything was going to be alright - hell, I was next on the list. And there was no way I could even imagine what it must be like to lose a part of what one was.

All I could do was soothe back his fur.

From the corner of my eye I saw Alice. She watched us as she trudged boxes of food from one end of the building to the other.

It was getting later now. People would soon be showing up expecting dinner.

It took some talking, but I was able to convince An and Alice to switch jobs. It seemed silly to have the reed thin girl hauling boxes around when I had a fairly muscly god twice her size on hand.

And it got An out of the kitchen. It seemed he didn't like Irish fare. He kept trying to nose his way in and add something 'traditional'. Somehow I doubted the public of New York really wanted an education in Ancient Egyptian cuisine. And anyway, every time he tried to cook it smelt revolting.

Not that Alice was much better. She was able to do what I ordered her to, but little else.

That left me buzzing around the kitchen like a hummingbird on crack. Not a pretty sight.

I very nearly had things under control when the stained apron I wore snagged on the outstretched handle of a pot of boiling soup.

I didn't even time to curse as I felt the pot slide from the stove beside me. A moment later the heavy cast iron pot hit the ground with an ear shattering clang.

It was bone dry.

I didn't even realize what I was doing until I turned to see the liquid mass of soup hanging suspended in mid air. It was still boiling merrily away, it even still held the shape of the pot it had been in.

"Robert..." Alice stood on the other side of the kitchen, watching me. "What's happening?"

I couldn't help but smile. It was silly, I knew, but I'd never thought of using my powers like this.

"I'm a patron saint of drowning, right? That's water. I control water."

I flicked my thumb and the soup raised another foot off the stove and formed itself into a ball.

I furrowed my brow and the slow boil it had been at grew until it rolled and steamed in its invisible enclosure.

Alice set down the vegetables she'd been prepping and crept over to watch.

I couldn't even tell you what I was doing. I just wanted it to move, to boil, and it did. It was like it was an extension of me, like the water was an arm, a finger. All I had to do was think about what I wanted and it complied without so much as a token effort to act as nature would dictate.

I glanced down at the cast iron pot, trying to levitate it like I did the soup. It didn't so much as budge.

I shifted to focus on it with no better results. The only thing I managed to accomplish was to nearly lose control of the soup that I still held airborne.

Giving up, I stepped forward to lug the heavy pot back onto the stove. It took both hands. Now that it was back in place I slowly lowered the still boiling soup back into it.

It took me a few moments to figure out how I was able to control the mixture. Sure there was water in it, but there was also meat and vegetables.

A few quick wiggles of my fingers and it was plain that I couldn't move anything but the water. The meat that floated in the pot was inert to me. What I could control was the moisture that permeated it.

Lift the water within and the form follows.

Pity. That would have been nice to know a few centuries ago.

Alice was still watching me. "Was that an illusion?"

I laughed. "That? No. I guess I have a few more powers than I thought. Not that levitating soup is the most useful thing I could think of, but it's a start."

We went back to working a few moments later, but I couldn't help but wiggle my fingers every so often.

All the meat and vegetables we worked with were filled with moisture. I held my hand over an apple and it obediently fell into equal slices without even so much as seeing a blade.

I turned to the pot over one of our weaker burners. A moment of concentration and it broke in to a boil at the perfect temperature.

Well... cool.

Once I realized my abilities, I couldn't help but see how far I could extend myself. I should be drained after all the power I'd expended yesterday... but rather I felt more and more alive as I extended my reach over the entire kitchen.

The process was so subtle that Alice didn't even notice until I rolled away the carrots she was working on. I thought about making them stand up and dance, but that just would have been tacky.

She turned to watch the kitchen around us.

At first you could almost miss it, except for the self slicing vegetables. Every pot was now at the perfect temperature, everything was stirring itself just so. It was like I could taste what was going on in every pot, control it and make it just right.

Yeah... I found it a bit odd too.

"Alice," I put my hand on her shoulder. I hardly even felt the spark with all the power that coursed through me. "Why don't you go find An and get the front room set up. We should start seeing people before too long."

"Uh... sure." She cast an uncertain eye towards the power dancing around her. I guess she could take anything illusion threw at her, but wasn't so confident around the real thing.

I took a few moments after she left to close all the doors and serving windows to the kitchen. It would do me little good to show off to those who came here looking for a meal.

I found a stool in one corner and dragged it to the centre of the room. Around me I could feel my will being done. Sure I was just making dinner, but it felt good none the less.

Speaking of dinner, I felt like something a little more substantial than soup.

I'd years ago picked up a taste for boxty, basically a fried potato pancake. That was a bit of an undignified description, but it worked well enough.

I'd only ever had it when I was wandering around Ireland, back shortly after I'd been made. It wasn't something that you saw a lot around here. There weren't enough northern folks around to patron a restaurant that made good boxty. Well, here was my chance to try.

The effort of running the rest of the kitchen all but fell from my mind. I could feel everything running smoothly behind me. All I had to worry about now was my own interests.

I was just about ready when Alice knocked on the closed door to the main room.

A quick roll of my eyes and I crossed over to let her in - after first making sure there was nothing too obviously supernatural going on.

Nope. Just a hundred people's dinner cooking itself. Nothing to see here.

I wasn't sure if Alice was having the time of her life or about to break out in hysterics.

"The first few people just showed up! Are we ready?"

I grinned.

"As we'll ever be." There was a cafeteria style food counter out in the main room. "Help me carry some stuff out."

A few minutes later we had the basics up and ready. The soup, of course, some fruit juice, and a few packages of pre-made buns and assorted treats.

It wasn't a king's bounty, but it was a damn slight better than nothing.

The folks who shuffled through the door didn't exactly match what the media would teach you to expect from a 'bum'.

There were a dozen people right off the bat. Men, women, and children. Their clothing ran the gambit from torn and filthy rags to moderately upscale leisure suits.

There was something in every one of their faces though. They were all here because they needed to be. Something about the way they look at you. The hollowness in their cheeks, the powerlessness in their eyes.

Out of a dozen, only about six said a word as they came up to take a bowl of soup. Four of these simply said 'Thank you'.

I popped back into the kitchen to make sure I still had a handle on the food. Everything was still well in control. That was good news, I'd have to refill the serving dishes out on the line before too much longer.

At first the stream of people had been slow and manageable. That changed quickly enough. It was like someone had opened a set of flood gates. There was a line up now, people pressed shoulder to shoulder until they stretched back out the door.

Alice and An were up and serving while I kept running back and forth to the kitchen, lugging pot after pot up front. They were handing out my work as quickly as I could move it.

I took a couple seconds lull in the procession to toss another bowl of soup together. I was swamped as it was, I couldn't imagine how people managed to do this every day, even with a full kitchen staff. I had the very water dancing to my command and I could only just keep up.

The line kept shuffling forward and I kept lugging food out. I'd thought Bruce and his delivery men had brought us a mountain of food not so long ago - it wasn't going to last long the way things were going.

I'd worked up a sweat when I felt a hand close around my shoulder.

I didn't even have the energy to jump. Looking back, it was An.

"Switch up. You keep the food cooking in back and I'll carry for a while. You can serve."

I was only too happy to oblige. The effort of exerting my powers was exhilarating, but I was still aching from moving things. I couldn't afford to levitate the soup with so many people watching.

Switching into a clean apron, I pulled a stool up to the food counter and began dolling out soup to those who came to stand before me. Alice stood further down, topping then up with drinks, cutlery, and whatever else they might need.

I fixed a smile on my face and ladled away as quick as I could move. At first the people who passed by were little more than a blur. Their faces seemed to mix and merge as so many came and went.

First an old man with a scraggly red beard, then a young woman with a bald head. A kid passed by, no more than twelve. He had an angry purple bruise covering half his face.

The next man to pass by didn't even ring a bell until he began holding up the line, talking to me. His thin grey hair and watery grey eyes could have belonged to anyone.

"I see you've come to join us, my son. Decided to listen to Father Humbald have you?"

Huh?

I had to rack my brain to recall where I'd seen him before. Oh yeah, he was the street preacher who had tried to convert me before this all started.

"Sure, Father." I tried to gently urge him along. "Yeah, I decided to drop by for the betterment of all mankind and such. Just couldn't stay away."

He grinned, showing gapped yellow teeth.

"That you have, my son. Doesn't it feel better to be helping those who are most in need? It's what we were put on this world to do, was it not?"

"Sure, Father." The smile I'd plastered on my face became a little bit more real. "Something like that."

It did feel good to be back in the world again. I should have done this a long, long time ago.

I lost count of how many bowls of soup we went through. I had to switch out with An at least a couple more times to get new batches made up. The fact I could boil the water at will and force the soup to come out right didn't hurt.

Glancing out, I saw An chatting and joking with the people who worked their way down the line. Ophois and Lenpw walked up and down the aisles looking for handouts. They didn't seem to be having too much trouble.

I stopped to wonder for a moment what people would think if they knew they were being served by an Ancient Egyptian god of death. It might give them indigestion. I decided not to mention it.

The line was starting to slack off. We still had a steady stream of people coming up to the counter, but at least we had time to breathe now.

The main sitting room was just short of packed. There couldn't be more than a couple of empty chairs in the whole place. A minor commotion broke out in one corner, then I saw Father Humbald rise to his feet.

"Your attention, my brothers and sisters." His voice was rough, but it carried through the room. He was no stranger to speaking to a crowd. "Your attention, please." He waited just a moment for the general murmurer to die down a notch. "I believe we should all give thanks before we partake of this great meal." He raised his hands and eyes to the rafters in unison. The words that came from his lips however confused many of those around him. "Oremus. Benedic, Domine, nos et haec tua dona, quae de tua largitate sumus sumpturi. Per Christum, Dominum nostrum. Amen."

It was grace in the old Latin. The only word most people recognized was the amen at the end. They all repeated it, parroting like children.

An elbowed me from where he stood leaning against the kitchen door frame. "Damn johnny-come-lately. If he really wanted to make a splash he should have given thanks to Ophois and me." He grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow. "And you." He poked me again. "Definitely you."

Folks got back to the serious business of eating soon after. There wasn't much conversation in here. Someone, long ago, had painted the whole room in a bright, luminous yellow. It did a good job of lightening the space, but that didn't change the troubles of those who sat here.

Being out on the street isn't a romantic place. Few people end up eating in a soup kitchen like this by choice. There are always a some folks who choose this life, but they're few and far between. Most of those who live on this rung of the ladder are here because they haven't any further to fall.

With just the three of us working the whole building we hadn't had the chance to check people to see if they were drunk or high. I was rather surprised to see just how many of the people out there seemed clean.

There was the occasional drunk or junky, they were easy enough to pick out, but even they were calm and focused on the act of eating.

I turned and ducked back into the kitchen, leaving An and his strong arms to watch over the proceedings. Now that the rush had passed I was drained to the point that I was shaking on my feet.

The stool was where I'd left it. Next to it was my boxty. It was cold and congealed now. I scraped it off the plate and onto a nearby griddle to warm it back up. The thought of warmed over boxty wasn't as appealing as I might hope, but I was determined to eat it one way or another.

Stirring and poking at the small hardened lump of ground potato, I realized just how much of a mess there was about me. Feeding all these people had left the kitchen in a state of disaster.

I sighed, rolled my eyes and reached out with my mind to force the water in the pots around me to come back to a boil.

I'd get them properly clean later. Right now it was enough to scrub them with the water they were already filled with.

I'd just about gotten my boxty reheated when Alice poked her head around the door.

"Robert? We've got another guy coming in and An is busy cleaning tables."

I was just about ready to throw up my arms and consign the poor boxty to the bin. "We've still got food left. Just let him have what he wants."

She shook her head. "I don't think that's what he's here for. He's got a suit on that looks like it cost at least as much as a compact car. And he's carrying a briefcase."

Wonderful. I hadn't even gotten this place open for twelve hours and someone's come to shut me down.

Alice's description of him as 'a man in a suit' was pretty much spot on. He didn't belong in this neighbourhood. He smelt of money.

The only thing she'd gotten wrong was the size of car. This suit was worth far more than a compact. He was at least up in the mid luxury class range.

"What can I do for you?" I did my best to wipe off before offering my hand to him. The word 'disgust' summed up his reaction pretty well.

He walked through the building like he was afraid it would rub off on him and leave an indelible stain on his soles. As it was I was fairly confident he was going to burn what he was wearing when he got home.

He came to a stop on the other side of the food counter. A quick glance at my fare and his nose most definitely turned up.

I had the feeling he didn't care much for my soup.

He ignored my hand as he reached into his coat. For a moment I was sure he was about to serve me a court order of some sort to shut this place down here and now. It wouldn't have surprised me.

The paper he pulled out was a fair bit smaller than I expected. It was a cheque.

"Are you in charge here?" he asked. His voice was high and nasal. It had a northeastern accent.

I shrugged. "Close enough. I'm not really sure..."

"Fine." He shoved the cheque towards me, all but forcing it into my hands.

I nearly dropped it when I saw the number of zeros on it. This cheque was likely worth more than the entire building.

"But..."

"Just sign." Now he was shoving forth another piece of paper. I noticed the words 'community service' across the top.

"But I'm not--"

"Do you want the money or not?" He was impatient now, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he glanced to the people behind him. "Just sign the damn paper."

"Sure, buddy. Whatever you want." I cast about for a pen. There were none to be found.

With a long and drawn out sigh he pulled one from his suit.

I accepted it with a smile. When I tried to hand it back afterwards he just looked at it like it was covered with the plague. "Keep it." He turned to leave.

"Thanks for the donation." I tried to keep my voice level. "Don't you want some soup?"

He couldn't have gotten out of here any faster if his tail was on fire.

That left me with one hell of a piece of paper. And I was already getting smudgy fingerprints all over it.

"What was all that about?" Alice followed me through the building as I headed back to the office. It was the only place I could think of to stash the cheque.

"Looks like the courts decided to legislate generosity. The fella in the holier-than-thou suit dropped off enough money to keep this place running for a good few years."

"Seriously?" She shoved her way in front of me and plucked the cheque from my limp fingers. "Whoa. He didn't even fill out who the money was too." She glanced up at me nervously, "Robert, you know..."

"No." I snatched the paper back. The thought had been itching away at the back of my mind too, ever since he'd handed it to me. "It's not ours. There should be enough here for whoever owns this place to hire at least a couple fulltime staff. We'll forward it to them and they can do with it what they will. They're the ones who put all the time and effort into getting this place built. We just happened to step in at the last moment and lend a hand. It's not ours."

"But that could be our ticket out of here!" She pulled at my elbow as I walked on. "Neither of us have enough cash as it is. That would be enough to get us out of this city, we could go wherever we want!"

I slammed the cheque down in the centre of the desk and turned on her. "Us? Who's this 'us'? Remember me, the guy you met twenty-four hours ago? I've survived centuries on my own. There is no 'us'. There won't even likely be a 'me' in a day's hence. Maxwell will come back and wipe me clean from the face of the earth. Or didn't you remember that? You seem to forget a lot of things when your father is involved."

She pulled back stunned. I hadn't moved, but yet she acted like I'd slapped her.

"It's not like that... I need you. I need you to help me remember. Without you it'll all just fade back into the fog." She looked around the small, cramped, dusty office as if seeing it for the first time. "We could leave New York. There's more than enough gods to keep him busy here. We could go... go anywhere. He's not a god, Robert. He can't track us. He's just a man. We could disappear into the world and he'd never find us again. I can help you, I can remember him now."

"Right, sure." I sat down heavily in an old chair that was pushed up behind the desk. It squeaked like a Hollywood prop. "Didn't we come here in the first place because I needed to give something back, make my whole godhood worthwhile? How would that look? Make people dinner than run off with a king's ransom."

"They don't even know it's here." She sat down on the desk in front of me, batting her eyes. I'm sure she was trying to look seductive, but it came off as seven levels of creepy when it was pressed through the body of a sixteen year old girl. "If it really matters that much to you, Robert," She reached out to take my hand but I pulled it away, "We could use the money as an investment. Spend only enough to get away, then open another kitchen in some other town. We could use the money to help countless people. We just have to help ourselves first."

"God helps those who help themselves?" I asked. I couldn't keep the venom out of my voice.

"Exactly." She batted her eyes again and crossed her legs. I had to look away. "Just like it says in the Bible."

I snorted. "I, unlike most people, have read the that book. It doesn't say that. Benjamin Franklin did."

She pulled back slightly. "Really? The guy on the money? My Dad used to use that phrase all the time. He said it was in the Bible."

"Your father doesn't know the first thing about religion. All he knows is what he thinks it is. And how to kill it. I doubt any man who'd truly researched the gods, spoke to them, would ever have come up with a way to kill us."

"But, the money..."

"Isn't ours." I pulled out a pen and scribed the name of the soup kitchen into the spot for the payee. "And don't you dare touch it." I glared at her. "If you so much as lay a finger on this cheque I'll show you the full force of what a god, even a minor one, can do."

She pouted like a spoiled child.

"Huumph. Then what do we do now?"

"Now?" I forced a smile to my lips as I levered myself out of the chair, "Right now we get back out there and help An. He's probably got his hands full waiting tables. We're going to have a mountain of dishes to clean."

She followed me out of the office without another word.

I think An was making subtle use of his powers to keep up. He moved more quickly and surely then any mere mortal had right to.

The main thrust of the crowd was gone now, but people still trickled in every so often. We kept up with the late arrivals and were even able to get the kitchen back into some vague semblance of order.

We weren't able to finally close the doors until after ten o'clock. By that time I think all of us, even Ophois and Lenpw, were good and run out.

I'd thought we had everyone cleared out when I heard a soft knock on the kitchen door behind me. It was Father Humbald.

Both Alice and An were dragging out the garbage, that left just Ophois and I in the kitchen.

And the mutt had gone back to his silent act.

"I knew I'd see you again, my son." His voice was rough but warm.

A quick thought and all the pots that had been scrubbing themselves clean in my sorcerer's apprentice act quietly fell still.

"I didn't know you were still here, Father." It took some effort to call him my his title. I'm sure it was self proclaimed, but I was too tired to care right now.

He shrugged and took a step into the kitchen, glancing down to Ophois. "You have a handsome companion. I haven't seen one of his breed in more years than I care to remember."

"Huh, yeah. I'm not sure what he is, truth be told."

Humbald reached a hand down towards Ophois, but the dog stood stiller than a statue.

"Then you are fortunate. A trusted one this is. It's only too bad that there aren't more of his kind about. Or your kind. Thank you, my son, for what you have done today. You had no reason to help us. There is nothing we can return to you, but yet you still come here and sacrifice your time. All I can say is that we know what you have done here today."

"Yeah, sure." I turned back to my pots, scrubbing them by hand now. "Thanks, Father."

He never took a step towards me, just stood there in the doorway. "You are doing good work, my son. I'm sure you make your parents proud."

I turned to him a moment later, but he was gone. All that remained was the sound of footsteps slowly retreating into the darkness of the main room.

It was pitch black out there now that we'd turned off the big overhead lights. Not even the bright yellow paint splashed across the walls could lighten the room.

It wasn't until his final echo had died away that Ophois turned to me, "Who... that?" His voice sounded even rougher than normal.

I shrugged. "Some old man I met on the street the other day. No one of note."

"Feels..." He shook himself like he was throwing water. "Feels like stone in a world of sand." He forced the words out before ending in a strangled cough. It was taking him everything he had to even say so much as that.

I reached down and scratched his head with a soapy hand. It left some suds behind.

"What breed are you, anyway?" I asked.

He didn't respond. Instead he wandered off into the darkened hallway.