Clash of the Titans 1

Medea Argo examined her class. The students seemed uninterested in the ancient history that built Western Civilization into the great nation they lived in now. She wondered how she could impress that former glory into their minds.

She glanced at the clock. The bell was about to ring, and free her children to run amuck. She put aside her notes on her desk.

"Before we dismiss, I want you to go over the classical period." She swept her keen gaze over her children. "I want you to write a paper on what the Greeks inspired in our modern society."

She smiled at the collective groans.

"Have it ready to turn in first thing tomorrow." She waved at them as the bell rang. "Then we'll review and ready for the test."

The students filed out. They had afterschool things to do, along with assigned homework. It was the way to adult responsibility.

There was always so much to do and so little time.

She looked at the assignment book on her desk. She couldn't remember her childhood at all. She seemed to have always been as she was now.

She wondered at that trick of the mind.

She smiled. Maybe she had burst complete from the mind of a god and had no need for a childhood.

She looked at the clock. The school would be busy for the next few minutes as the students made for the parking lot and buses. She had papers she could grade while she waited for the building to empty.

She shook her head as she went through the reports with a red pen. She filled in the grades as she worked her way down the class list. She wondered if they were learning anything from her at all as the papers grew more preposterous as she read them.

She had higher hopes for her kids.

She put the papers away as she considered on how to get her kids to improve. They weren't retaining much of the subject matter.

Maybe she needed to get them involved physically somehow. Maybe some kind of play would be the thing. She looked at the grades in her book. Only two of the kids were doing what she considered above average work.

She thought about options as she left the class. Teaching had seemed the best way to accomplish her goal. She wasn't so sure of that now.

"Hey, fine thing." One of her students stood with a group of other kids. He seemed to have been taking some kind of drug. "You want to have some fun with us?"

"Mr. Clements." Miss Argo frowned at the group. Clements was failing her class. She suspected he was failing all of his classes. "I thought you would have left the school by now."

"We decided we wanted to teach you a little something." Clements looked at his group. They were smiling.

"Do you know what the Argo was, Mr. Clements?" Medea pulled off her glasses. Her face changed as she put them away. "We went over it in class."

"Some kind of boat." He stopped smiling. Something was wrong. She should be afraid of them.

"It was a boat." She put her case down on the floor. "Do you remember who was on the boat?"

"Some dudes chasing some goat." Clements didn't like the expression on his teacher's face. He had planned to put one totally different from the one that was currently on it.

He wanted her to be ashamed every time she saw him. Fear that he might do something to her again was good. Maybe she would even kill herself after her reputation was ruined around the school.

"Some dudes chasing a goat." She laughed. "The Argo carried heroes on a mission to save their leader's kingdom. It took them through countless dangers until the quest was done."

The gang expected a lot more fear from their victims. Why wasn't this teacher afraid of them?

"The captain of the Argo married a woman named Medea. She helped him get the Golden Fleece so he could sail home to his new kingdom. He left her on an island and married another woman. She killed his children and fed them to him. My name is Medea too. Guess what I am going to do to you."

"You're crazy." One of the boys stared at her. "You're going to cook all of us?"

"First, I'll have to tenderize you." Medea pulled on gloves to protect her hands, and to soften her blows. She didn't want to kill them yet. "Then into the pot you go."

"You're crazy." Clements stepped forward. "There's six of us. You're going down."

He fell to the floor. The punch to his throat made it where he couldn't breathe, much less talk. A little harder and he would be dead.

"There's five of you now." Medea smiled. She gave Clements a kick while he was down to stop his whining.

The others looked like they couldn't decide to fight, or run. She advanced on them. She smiled as she walked forward.

"Who else wants to go in the pot?" She clapped her hands together. The more cowardly of the group ran. "That leaves two."

They pulled knives. No skirt was going to tell them what to do.

The one on the left was stabbed three times with his own knife before he realized he had lost it. He went down in a pool of blood on the floor.

The one on the right looked at his friend, then at the teacher. He was bleeding. She was smiling through the blood spatter on her face.

He turned to run. It was too late.

One hand grabbed the back of his head. Then he was kissing the locker closest to him. Then he kissed the next one, and the one after that. By the time he reached the end of the row, his face was battered beyond recognition.

"Not everyone is a victim for your wolf pack." Medea took off her gloves. "Go to your hospitals and fix your injuries. If you want another lesson, be here tomorrow at the same time. I am a teacher that takes pride in her work."

Medea put on her glasses. She picked up her bag. She gave Clements another kick to let him know how she felt about him.

She hoped he would return tomorrow. It had been a while since she had possessed a moving punching bag. He needed to work on his reflexes if he wanted to keep from getting hurt.

A security guard appeared at the end of the hall. He frowned at Medea. She smiled back. She still had things to do with the rest of her day. He walked up the hall, stopping when he saw the blood everywhere.

He turned to ask the teacher what had happened. She had disappeared in the stairwell. He thought back. He hadn't seen any blood on her. Maybe she had come out some other class and avoided seeing the mess in the hall.

He wondered if he was making excuses because he couldn't see how one slight woman wrecked three of the school's worst troublemakers, or he didn't care that she had wrecked three of the school's worst troublemakers.

He decided to call an ambulance. They could call the police. The police could sort it out.

Medea walked out of the building. There were some students loitering on the grounds as she walked down the street. She waved at those who waved at her.

She didn't any of Clements's friends around. They must have run from the school as fast as possible.

She hoped they developed some sense and thought of better things to do with their time than attacking the helpless.

She doubted it.

They were probably licking their wounds in preparation of trying to get some kind of revenge. She wondered if she should track them down, or let them come to her.

She decided a good offense was the way to go. Why look over her shoulder when she could make them run from her?

Medea smiled.

When had she become a teacher in the school of hard knocks?

She walked out of sight. She jumped on the roof of the nearest building and looked around. She saw the jackals running for their lives. She put her bag down under an air conditioner housing.

She jumped over to the next roof, then the next. She jumped over the street to the next row of buildings. It was a casual use of her heritage. She looked down.

The three men gasped for air below. She jumped down while they were looking behind them.

"Boo."

2

Aggie shook his head as he wandered the streets. He had seen much better in his day. How did this place become a focal point? It seemed bitterly out of character.

A city becoming a focal point was a common thing. He saw signs of monsters everywhere. He saw quasi-entities moving behind the scenes. The place was littered with them.

The city didn't seem the type to draw such creatures to it. It was plain, basic brick and wood everywhere, with no signs of a personality. He expected to at least see gargoyles everywhere.

He shook his head. It would be nothing to wreck such a place as this city.

He doubted any defender that might oppose him would be a worthy opponent.

How should he go about his mission? Should he just get started and see who came to stop him? Should he make it a game to see if he could run any enemy ragged while he moved behind the scenes? How much of his earthly power should he call down at once?

He decided that he wouldn't use more than the smallest fraction. He didn't have to destroy the whole city at once. He could work on one building at a time.

He could cause fear and have fun at the same time.

What building should he choose to start his game? Should it be important? Should it be something small? Should he kill any residents with his bare hands?

Decisions, decisions.

He decided to keep the death to a minimum. It would give him more satisfaction when they realized they were powerless to stop him.

He could exploit that to make his mission more enjoyable for himself.

Aggie sauntered toward a saloon. It had been a long time since he had been in one of those. He doubted humanity had changed that much since the last focal point had formed. He smiled at the people glaring at him with suspicion.

This would be a good place to start. All he needed was an excuse.

He smiled at the closest of the patrons who thought about talking to him. His expression caused them to pause. He went to the bar.

"Do you have any milk?" Aggie perched on a stool. His mild demeanor made the bartender lose a step as he came down to serve him.

"Milk?" The bartender frowned. His circular face wrinkled like a shar-pei. He shook his head. "No milk here. Would you like something else?"

"What do you have?" Aggie leaned forward. The dim light in the place enhanced the light in his eyes. He didn't want the man to see that before he was ready.

"We have Jack, Jim, a bunch of beers on tap, and soda." The man waved at the bottles behind him. "We have Smirnoff, Tequila, and water."

"Let me have the vodka." Aggie smiled. Could he push these people into letting him exterminate them as part of his game?

He reminded himself that he was restricting killing as much as possible.

The game would not be fun without rules.

The bartender brought out a glass and poured the liquid into it. He put the small container on a coaster to keep it off the wooden top of the counter.

"Can I have a bigger glass?" Aggie downed the shot without a pause.

"We only have one size for shots." The bartender pointed to the racks of glasses under the bottles. "Sorry."

"Let me have the bottle then." Aggie took the alcohol. He drank down the liquid fire in a matter of seconds. "Have you another?"

"Sure." The bartender pulled out another bottle. He opened it and handed it over.

Aggie drank that down just as fast. He smiled at the crowd standing around him. He supposed they had never seen anyone who burned up alcohol with a greater inner heat. He nodded at the saloon hand to give him another bottle.

He drank about half, and then held the other half in his mouth. He pointed his mouth at the bottles behind the bar. A roar of flame covered the fuel where it sat in its protective glasses. He threw the stool at the fire to let the liquor out.

The crowd seemed stunned by what he had done. The flames spread despite what the bartender did to try and stop them.

"If I were you, I wouldn't hang around." Aggie vaulted the bar. He stuck his arm in the flame and pulled it back. Fire ran up his bronze skin. He held up his hand. "You don't want to catch fire, do you?"

The crowd fled for the front door. He laughed as he looked at the bartender. The man had reached for a fire extinguisher.

"What do you think you're going to do?" Aggie stepped forward. Fire ran all over his body as he stood there. "I think you should consider fleeing."

"You're burning up." The bartender aimed the fire extinguisher at the arsonist. "How the heck are you still talking?"

Aggie laughed. He pointed at the canister. It exploded in a cloud of foam. The bartender fell down, covered by the spray.

"I think it's time for you to leave." He pointed at the burning shelf. It blew up. Fire spread across the counter, and headed for the concrete floor.

The bartender headed out the back in a dead run. He looked over his shoulder. The walking flame waved at him like a grandmother waving at her family from the door of her house after a visit.

Aggie looked around the room. No one was harmed. Everyone was afraid. He pointed at chairs and a table. A jet of flame struck them.

He laughed as he surveyed the destruction. Everything had gone according to plan. He walked toward the door. He pointed as he went to set other things on fire.

He paused at the door. The crowd watched the saloon. They talked as they tried to decide what to do. He couldn't let them get brave enough to try and attack him. He didn't want to break his self-imposed rules before he really got started.

That would be admitting failure. And failure was anathema to his ego.

Aggie walked out to a motorcycle pulled up in front of the burning building. He got on as the owner hurriedly got out of his way. He cranked up the motor as the vehicle caught fire under him. He waved as he drove off.

Aggie let the wind push the flame behind him until he rode without any fire burning on his body and new ride. He laughed as the iron horse leaped forward.

The saloon had been a good start. The word would go out. The humans in power wouldn't believe he was attacking them until it was too late. Only a champion would dare stand up to him.

He would defeat any champion that might try to get in his way.

He looked at a clock dialing out time on the side of a building marked as a bank. He decided he would burn something else down tomorrow, one minute later than what the clock said. He would continue to do that until he met the city's champion.

He smiled at this new rule. He was binding himself much more than was strictly required.

He also decided the next target would be just a little bigger than the saloon he had just caught on fire. That gave him a natural way to pick targets while also making it a rule.

He loved rules.

3

Medea of Olympus hoped she had taught a valuable lesson to her would-be attackers. She hoped they would think twice about attacking anyone else. She doubted it.

Some people never learned.

It had been an interesting few minutes even though it was so ridiculously easy for her to punish mortal children. She needed someone more of a match for her, or her skills would grow rusty.

There had to be someone in the city who could stand up to her.

The only one she knew for sure who could stand up to her was Seraphim, whom she didn't have a number to call for a sparring match.

She doubted he would match up with her just to ease her frustrations.

A trail of smoke headed into the sky. A fire must have taken hold somewhere. She could help with that if the fire department hadn't arrived yet.

Her blessing should be good enough for a simple fire. She just needed a supply of water from somewhere she could shift to do the dirty work.

It was the same principle used by Herakles to clean the Augean Stables for one of his famous labors.

She would have to think of another tactic if there was no water nearby for her to use.

Medea ran through the streets. She knew that no one got a clear look at her as she moved. Her speed was the wind.

She paused when she reached the source of the fire. It was a bar. The patrons stared at it mournfully. Whatever had happened here was no accident. She could tell by the way they looked down the street. They seemed to be searching for the source of the blaze.

She decided to worry about that later. She had to put the fire out before it spread to other buildings on either side of the narrow parking lot around the bar.

She shook her head at the distance of a hydrant from the fire. So much for just uncapping it and directing the water with her hands.

She could knock the building over with her prodigious strength. It shouldn't take much to make it collapse. That was the only thing she could think of to hold the fire down.

Sirens could be heard approaching. She might not have to do anything at all. The mortals could handle this.

She turned her attention to the crowd. They talked about a man setting fire to the bar with his mind. She frowned at that.

Maybe this was the challenge she had wanted.

She had hoped it wouldn't involve slaughtering mortals just to show he was here in the city.

Fire trucks arrived moments later. Men in thick coats jumped down and began hooking hoses to the two hydrants she could see. They turned the water on to start their assault on the fire.

She watched as the fire fighters went about their job casually. She supposed a fire like they faced wasn't big enough to be that dangerous to anyone who knew what they were doing.

That hadn't seemed to matter to the fire starter when he set things off.

Why had he burnt the bar down? Did he have a reason? Where would he go next? Did he have a schedule he wanted to keep?

Would he come back and attack the crowd?

Medea noticed a footprint leading away from the burning pile. She noted that it was burned into the sidewalk. She decided to walk in the direction it indicated.

Maybe she would find the arsonist without too much trouble.

She chastised herself for not wearing the protective armor she had been given. It would have protected her identity if someone saw her fighting the arsonist.

She would have to forego it for the moment.

She couldn't fail to act because she didn't have the equipment she had been given. She would have to do the best she could with whatever came to hand.

She walked down the sidewalk. She didn't see any more burning prints in the concrete. She supposed that the arsonist had walked out of the bar and left the first print. He had cooled down as he walked away from the fire.

It made sense but didn't help her. She needed a location for this salamander. She couldn't do anything without that.

How could she find this man before he did something deadly to the civilians that just wanted to go about their lives?

Medea grimaced. She didn't have enough information to start a search. She doubted he would leave a neon trail to his headquarters so she could bust in and deal with him.

He would be that much more dangerous if he had no other agenda than burning things to the ground.

Did he really stare the fire into existence?

A power meant trouble beyond what she would expect from a mortal firebug. She wondered if he was from a pantheon she knew.

She doubted Olympus would send another down to her home grounds without warning her.

She hoped he could take a punch. That would be most satisfying to her.

She decided to return to the fire. Maybe a witness could tell her what the firebug looked like. They must have seen him before they fled from the bar.

Maybe she could figure out where he had come from with the right description.

She smiled. Her plan was grasping at straws until she had something better to put in play.

It was like most things in her opinion.

People had plans that were little more than decisions that might lead to better decisions, but really had nothing more than this will turn out like I want it.

She knew that was better than giving up. Too many people did that too. She had been trained to never give up, and blessed with gifts to help her in her quest.

That made her a pivot in the game of fate whether she liked it, or not.

Medea walked into the crowd and did the best she could to gain details. The witnesses had conflicting descriptions. Most agreed he was dark, tall, muscular and wore red. The rest was all over the place.

She had expected that. Witnesses were notoriously unreliable about what they had seen happen right in front of them.

She shook her head. She had gained one piece of information out of the morass. Her quarry hadn't come from the north. He was too tanned for that. The power set also seemed wrong for most of the Aesir.

She was probably dealing with someone from the East, or Pacifica. He had too much control to be a demon, too handsome to be a mortal, and had been leisurely about setting things on fire.

She pushed away any thoughts of failing. She would find this other immortal. She would deal with him.

4

Aggie wandered the streets. He saw several buildings that looked good for him to burn down. They didn't match the criteria he had set with his rules.

The rules were everything.

You didn't just set things on fire because you wanted to. That made you little better than a fire demon. You picked a target that fit with the guidelines that you set for yourself.

So he was looking for a building just a little bigger than the bar. It had to have people using it. Someone needed to talk to him.

It sounded simple enough.

He was having problems finding such a place. Everywhere he looked was too small, or much too big. A couple of places looked almost right, but they didn't have any people. One had a sign to warn off trespassers like him.

He didn't want to violate the rules before he fairly started. What kind of game was that?

He found a restaurant that fit two of his rules. He smiled. He should have known he would find something, sooner or later. Now he needed to go in and wait until they activated his game.

He wondered how long that would take in this modern age?

He expected it to be a matter of minutes.

Aggie went to the counter. He would place an order. Eventually something would happen. He had no fear of that.

He took his food when it arrived at the counter and took a seat where he could watch the dining room. He listened as he chewed. Where was his rudeness?

A man walked in. He had one of the cell phones that were everywhere to his ear. He ordered his meal while talking to whomever was on the other end.

Aggie pointed at the phone. He smiled as it caught fire. Let a fire demon do that. The man started dancing around, throwing his cell to the floor. He stared at it as the plastic melted under the fire's touch.

Aggie concentrated on the fire. It spread from the initial start point, eating the tile as it did. People ran for the exits. One of the braver cooks came forward with a fire extinguisher. He tried to put the blaze out.

The fire spread despite the white cloud. The walls began to blacken under the flame's touch. Smoke poured to the ceiling, heading for the air conditioning ducts. Most of the people had emptied from the building.

Aggie finished eating. He pointed at the visible kitchen. The grease in a fryer went up in an instant. In a moment, the building would be destroyed when the gas lines started to melt.

A fire suppression system tried to kick on and flood the restaurant. He pointed at it. Intense heat melted the piping closed to keep the gas in place.

He walked to the door as smoke and flame danced together behind him. The crowd watched as he pushed the door open. He waved and smiled before walking away from the burning building.

The explosion came as he rounded the corner. The column of smoke lifted over the mortals. He smiled and kept walking. Taking credit was against the rules.

He wondered how long he could keep this up before he was directly confronted. He doubted it would be long. He would have to keep moving to prolong the game. Since he couldn't kill anyone directly, he couldn't kill the Greek when she arrived to try and stop him.

That would add spice to their confrontation.

How far could he push her? She probably wouldn't take much. The Greeks would have sent a fighter to represent them in the modern world.

He might get her to kill an innocent by mistake. The guilt would be icing on the cake as far as he was concerned.

He might be able to trick her into wrecking the city. That would ruin her as an agent of good will for the Greeks. They would have to break contact and return to being reclusive again.

That would give his own pantheon a chance to become dominant again. They still had followers in the homeland. The Greeks couldn't claim that.

He saw a store that was a little bigger than the restaurant. He looked back at the column of fire. He could set two fires in a matter of minutes. That should cause the mortals to fear him.

How would the Greek take that? Maybe she would kill herself in shame. That would be perfect.

He also didn't expect that to happen. That would be too good to happen. Nothing was ever that good.

He walked into the store. He smiled at the clerk as he began to walk around. He wondered how much decoration could go on underwear. A loincloth was good enough in his day.

People were so much like peacocks. All of this was to show off their tail feathers to mates and enemies alike.

"Can I help you, sir?" The clerk stood at his elbow. She wore a suspicious expression on her face.

He supposed they didn't get many men in their underwear store.

"My wife is always after me to be more romantic." Aggie smiled at the clerk. "I thought this year I would give her something intimate to rekindle the fire, so to speak."

"Do you know your wife's size?" The clerk looked around at the racks of bras. "That would help us find you something she could wear."

"I have no idea." Aggie shrugged. "I admit that I never noticed any tags."

"Anything you buy can be returned in thirty days if you have a receipt." She smiled. "We will exchange it with no problem."

"Can you help me?" An older woman cut into their conversation. She held up two bras. "I would like to know which one will fit better."

"I'll show you to the fitting room, ma'am." The clerk led the way to the back of the store.

"I'm so glad I could tear you away from your conversation." The lady waddled after the clerk.

"He's a customer like you, ma'am." The younger woman pulled a curtain aside. "Here's our fitting rooms. Call if you need help."

Aggie smiled at the women. The older woman was close to crossing the line. He could justify a fire if she said one more thing.

"Is he a transvestite?" The older woman gave him a look.

He set her dress on fire with a look. She tried to pat it out. The clerk moved to help her. That only spread the flame on the cloth.

"Take off the dress." The clerk started pulling on the buttons. "You'll burn to death if you don't."

Aggie turned away and walked toward the door. He hoped the matriarch had the sense to get rid of the dress. He didn't want anyone to die. That would break the rules.

He almost turned to rip the burning dress off the woman but she rushed out of the store. He averted his eyes from the pasty flesh that ran by. He turned and walked away.

The clerk and another woman stumbled out of the store. They looked up at the storefront vanishing in a cloud of fire.

Aggie nodded to himself. He had not killed anyone and broken the game. He walked away from the third fire. He wanted something a little bigger now.

Soon he would be able to burn down something really massive like one of the city's towers.

How long would it be before the Greek caught up with him? How much longer would he be able to wander unimpeded? He sensed the power gathering in the air like the moments before a storm.

It wouldn't be long.

He looked forward to the contest. He wondered if the agent felt the same way. He thought so. They were cut from similar cloth after all.

It would be something poems would be written about long after they had returned to their places in the skies.

5

Medea reached the latest fire in a matter of seconds. She applied some of the healing touch she had mastered from her time on Olympus to an overweight woman that lay on the sidewalk opposite the fire.

There were no sirens. There was no telling when the fire department would arrive.

She twisted the top off of a nearby hydrant. She directed the flow of water with her hand so that it attacked the flames. She closed her eyes and summoned one of the other gifts she had been given by her patrons.

The water laughed as it performed a series of suicide charges on its mortal enemy. Each of the drops grew a face and a disregard for its life as they flew through the air. They began to beat the fire into submission.

"How are you doing that?" One of the women joined Medea at the hydrant.

"I have great strength from eating Wheaties." The Olympian smiled. She kept her hand on the water to keep the spell going. "What happened?"

"This man came into the store. He said he was looking for something for his wife." The clerk covered her face as she tried to remember the exchange. "This woman came in after him, and wanted to select a bra. I think she thought the other customer was my boyfriend from the way she acted. Then she asked if he was a transvestite. That's when her dress caught fire."

"Her dress caught fire?" Medea looked at the older woman. She gasped on the sidewalk. "Before the rest of the building?"

"Yes." The clerk nodded. "As soon as she said the thing about the cross-dressing, her dress went up."

"Was it a blond man?" The Olympian wanted to confirm it was the same man that had set the bar fire.

"He was dark, almost Indian, or Arabian." The clerk shook her head as she brought the image of her customer to mind. "He wore a red shirt and pants, black shoes."

Medea grimaced. It was a fire demon from the Brahmans. They liked to play games. Burning down buildings was probably meant to pull her into whatever gambit it had initiated.

It probably had some rules about where and how it targeted its fires.

If she figured out the rules, she could catch up with it.

The water wandered around the smoky remains drifting from the shop. They looked disappointed their enemy had been vanquished.

Medea released the spell. Her water soldiers collapsed to the sidewalk, street, and the floor of the ruined shop. She closed the hydrant to cut off the flow.

"Thank you for your help." She smiled. "I'm sorry about your shop."

"I just worked there." The clerk shook her head. "I don't know what I will do now. I have to call Jeannette and let her know what happened. She won't believe it."

"Don't tell her the man stared things into fire." Medea cautioned. "Just tell her that something happened."

"Right." The clerk pulled out her phone. "I don't want her to think I started it."

"Exactly."

Medea looked at the sidewalk. One burned footprint pointed her in the direction the fire demon had taken. She started after it.

Why had it picked a clothing store and a bar? What made them acceptable targets for the fire demon?

The only thing they had in common was the service angle for customers.

Maybe that was why he had targeted those places. He wanted places where people went.

Why did he delay setting the fires?

Why had he targeted the woman who had been rude? Had he set her on fire because she had been rude? Maybe that was part of the rules. It would explain why he waited so long in the bar and the shop.

He waited for someone to be rude before he set off the blaze.

What would he target next? That became the most important point. Eventually he would kill someone trying to stop him. What would he do then?

Would he escalate once he had broken one of his rules, or would he state that he had lost the game and go back home?

How could she force him to go back if he didn't want to do that? She had a few abilities that she could use. She doubted he would let her use them without a fight.

How could she prevent any more of the blazes?

She paused when she spotted a restaurant ahead. That was exactly the kind of place the fire demon had been burning down. She glanced in the windows as she went by.

No one wore a combination of red on red that she had been told to single out. She kept moving. He had to be around, looking for his next target.

She still had no idea how she was going to stop him when she did catch up to him.

Punching usually worked.

She spotted a man in red walking into a frame shop. She rushed to the door and entered behind him. He turned to smile at her. Fire danced in his eyes.

"So we meet at last." He took up a position between two stands of wooden picture frames. "I knew it wouldn't take long for you to catch up with me."

"Why are you burning buildings up?" Medea tried to keep between him and the person on duty behind a counter toward the rear of the store.

The woman watched the exchange with a wary look on her face. She didn't want a lover's quarrel in the middle of the store.

"It's my nature, Greek." He smiled. "Why are you here?"

"This is my home." Medea didn't smile. "I want you to leave it."

"This city is on a nexus." The demon smiled again. "We're interested in it."

"You could have set up an embassy before you started burning my city." The Olympian glanced at the clerk behind the counter. The woman had a phone in hand. "You're going to turn yourself in to the authorities and take your punishment, and then you will return to your pantheon of origin."

"I don't think so." The demon nodded at the clerk. "That's not part of the game."

"What would you consider a defeat so you'll leave town?" Medea kept her satisfaction of her guesswork being right inside.

"If you can force me beyond the limits of the city, I will concede defeat to you." The fire demon raised a hand. "If I can destroy five buildings, you will have to leave and I will stay to watch over my city."

"The buildings you already destroyed don't count for your total."

"Agreed."

6

The combatants decided they would start their match at the center of the city. That gave Aggie a clear shot at targets while making it harder for Medea to push him over the city limits line. The town square that was going to be the ground zero of their conflict was surrounded by buildings, but was clear of them around the edges of its borders. It was as close to neutral ground as they were going to have.

"When do you want to start, Greek?" The fire demon wore his smile of confidence.

"We'll start at the chiming of the bell." Medea pointed at a clock in the distance.

"Excellent." Aggie stretched his arms in preparation of his victory.

Medea reviewed her gifts. She had numerous things that she could use in combat. She doubted any of them would kill a fellow immortal.

She certainly wasn't going to let him become some kind of king of the city to burn down any building he wanted.

The bell toned the three o'clock hour. The three tones went from a loud chime to a small bong. When they were done, the agents moved towards each other, powers rising around them.

Aggie decided he needed to get away from the Greek. A direct confrontation served nothing as far as he was concerned. He only had to burn down five buildings. It didn't matter what kind of building at this point.

He directed his fire beneath him as the woman rushed him. He smiled when he vaulted over her. He was as fast and slippery as the fire he controlled.

Medea turned and swung her arm. Her fist connected with the back of his head as he landed. The fire demon staggered from the blow, but didn't go down.

That wasn't good, but not unexpected.

Immortals were a tough breed by default. Their inner power shielded them from most things. She would have to exert power on the scale of a major god to inflict a mortal injury. She didn't have that much power.

She needed to get him out of the city and see if he was as honorable as he pretended.

Blazing eyes focused on her. A beam of destruction swept over her. Her arm rose to block it. The fire split to either side of the shield she had invoked.

He swung with a fiery fist. She caught the blaze with the shield. He blasted himself away from her as soon as his hand hit the invisible wall.

"Too slow, Greek." Aggie fired spikes of fire to slow his opponent down. He had seen her move. She was as swift as Lord Garuda.

Medea ran forward behind her shield. The flame splattered around her. She sensed that she had rocked him with the blow to the head. She needed to keep doing that so he couldn't think of a plan to counter her plan.

The goals were simple enough, but neither could reach them as long as they were dancing with each other.

Medea knew that wasn't perfect because she had no idea if he could cause things to explode around him.

She couldn't chance it in the center of the city. She had to get rid of him quick.

Aggie bounded toward the exit of the square. He was surrounded by skyscrapers. He would have to concentrate his power if he wanted to bring one of them down. He needed smaller targets close to each other. Then he could burn them down together and win the contest.

Exiling the Greek would be the spice in the curry.

He didn't like the fact she was walking on his shadow.

The fire demon bounded over a parked car. He cast fire on it to cause the distraction he needed to make his escape. If he could get out of her sight, he could win the contest without much effort.

She grabbed the car as she passed and hurled it at him. He leaped over it. He frowned at the recklessness. Mortals were everywhere. What had she been thinking when she did that?

He didn't have problems with killing the humans, but he expected their champion to do better to defend them from the likes of him.

He decided to see what she would do if set a whole row of cars on fire.

He swept his gaze along the parked rows of cars. Flame rolled up inside of them. Then the cars flew at him. He ducked and dodged the flying barrage.

One that he hadn't set fire struck him out of the blue. He realized that she had taken him by surprise with her speed. He had been so intent on dodging projectiles from one direction, she had blindsided him from another.

The following explosion prevented him from recovering from his surprise long enough for her to grab him with her slender hands.

Aggie expanded his fire aura as he tried to break her grip. Her hands blistered but she didn't let loose. She smiled at him. He didn't like that. This was becoming personal no matter how much he wanted to abide by his own rules.

Medea laughed at him.

Aggie poured everything into burning through her grip. He battered her arms with his own. He tried to spin her off her feet.

She directed his face into a knee. Black blood erupted from his broken nose. Pain blinded him for a moment.

She threw him straight up while he was dazed. The wind of his passage washed some of the pain away. He directed his flight to take him to a landing far away from the Greek. Then he could win this contest.

He landed on a column of fire. He found himself on a residential street. This was perfect for him to win.

He directed his gaze at the house on the end. He might as well start there. He frowned when nothing happened. He tried to set another house on fire. What had happened to his power?

Had he lost? How could he have?

The Greek must have tricked him somehow. How had she done it? He couldn't remember leaving the city limits at all.

Aggie found his rival pulling blisters off her arms near a fountain in the town square where they had started their contest. The skin underneath the burns was a healthy pink.

"How did you do it, Greek?" The fire demon formed a fireball in one hand. He threw it at a tree. It went out halfway to the target.

"You gave your word in a duel." Medea shrugged as she pulled more burnt skin from her arms. "You did it to yourself."

"How did you win?" Aggie crossed his arms. "I never left the city."

"You must promise not to tell." The Olympian washed off her arms. She smiled as they looked normal to her.

"I promise." Aggie held his hand to his heart to show that he knew what the gesture meant.

"You see all that open sky up there." She pointed up at the vast blue sea that hovered above.

"Yes?" Aggie wasn't sure what she wanted him to see.

"The city doesn't own that." She smiled and he knew how he had been defeated in a moment of clarity. "Someone else does."

"Very clever." Aggie smiled. "You are smarter than I thought, Greek."

"You're not, Indian." Medea started walking. "Have a nice trip home."

Aggie bowed at her retreating back. He concentrated and vanished in a column of fire. He hated reporting his loss, but the rules demanded it.

Medea focused on healing her arms. Keeping her grip had cost her some, but she healed fast. Having a healing touch helped with that.

The next task she had to undertake was replacing the cars she had thrown in the river.

Epilogue

Medea dismissed her class at the bell. She looked over their papers. She shook her head. She had a night of reading ahead of her.

She knew the same mistakes would be made in the class as the others that she had already read at lunch.

Humans were remarkably consistent from what she had seen in her brief time on Earth.

She packed everything in her case. She would use the public library to grade everything before going home. At least she wouldn't have to worry about being accosted in the halls for a while.

Her lesson to the last gang had spread around the school. Troublemakers avoided her like the plague now. She knew this by the way they stopped talking when they saw her, or separated so she couldn't chase them both.

They were wrong about her speed, but she let them think she couldn't chase both if she wanted. It would give her a small amount of exercise when she wanted to spook them.

Her presence at the school had moved things away from her class, her floor of the old building. Kids and outside adults still tried to do crooked things when they thought she wasn't looking. She noted what they looked like for after school visits.

Those were very amusing.

The expressions that greeted her when she ripped up their homes and destroyed their drugs touched her heart. It confirmed her purpose as a champion of Olympus when she sent them scattering like rats.

She admitted she was easily amused.

Medea walked down the stairs to the ground floor. The students kept an area clear around her. She smiled at some of them. They returned the smile with less than eagerness.

Even the honest ones wanted to steer clear of her. Their peers might torture them for even a smile.

She walked out of the front doors and looked around. The kids dispersed around her, heading home on foot, for the bus zone, or for the parking lot next to the school for a ride home from friends or relatives.

She turned left and headed for the library. It was a long walk, but she was used to it. She enjoyed the neighborhood she passed through to get there.

Sometimes she happened on something that needed her attention. It was nothing for her to help out with the skills and gifts she had been granted before being sent to the city to be its guardian.

It made her acquaintances she could use to blend in better than appearing to be a loner. She attended staff get-togethers for that very reason.

Sometimes she learned of problems through these contacts that called on her special skills. She acted in the night, and denied doing anything.

Medea paused on the walk to the library's secondary doors. She smiled at the interconnected domes when she saw them. The architect must have been a smooth talker to get that design pass the city government.

The four humps resembled a four leafed clover from the air. It was something that she looked for when she was in a hurry in this part of town. Each dome lined up with a cardinal direction.

She stepped inside and headed for the north room. She found a table and began reading her papers. A red pen marked down the mistakes she caught.

Most of the papers had the same mistakes. She concentrated on them. A percentage seemed to be the same paper, just rewritten by her students. She smiled.

Her reputation must not be as fearsome as she supposed for this amount of cheating and plagiarism. She would have to do something about that when school reconvened.

Maybe she should borrow the gym for a case of dodge ball. The coaches wouldn't like her doing that. It would interfere in their programs.

She needed some punishment they would remember for the rest of their school careers.

Medea decided to put it aside for the moment. Something would suggest itself to her. Then she would apply the punishment she came up with to her cheaters.

Medea packed the papers away. The day had reached the twilight. She still had to wander the city to help those in need. She came across at least three criminals a night.

She wondered how long it would be before the smarter ones took the hint and moved away from her domain.

She doubted any of them were really that smart.

She flashed through the city to her place. She stored her case in its place for tomorrow. She changed her clothes from the suit she wore to school to the armor and kilt she wore on her real job. She pulled on a helmet to cover her face.

She smiled before she leaped from the window of her apartment. She landed on the roof of the next building over. She picked another roof at random and jumped to that.

Her speed made her invisible in the night sky. She preferred that. There were others who were more visible than her. Only one caused more fear.

She wished she could operate as effectively as that mortal, but she had other concerns.

Hunting monsters was something she did when she stumbled over them. It wasn't a concern unless she came across one in her patrols. Then she got rid of it before it attacked anyone else.

Dealing with the Indian had been something required of her as the guardian. She represented her pantheon. As long as she stood watch, her gods stood watch. No other gods could take residence.

She found her first problem of the night. She smiled as she watched the thief level a brick at a car in the street.

She swooped down and caught the brick in mid air. The thief frowned first. She cracked the brick with her fingers. He ran down the street.

She let him have the headstart before she swept him off the street and flung him in a dumpster.

One down, so many more to go. She could spend an eternity teaching these mortals lessons.

The end