10. Tyler

"By the gods," Kalistratos says. "What is this place?"

"Welcome," I say with a flourish of my hand. "To Bakerville's largest outdoor mall, where all of your shopping needs are met! That was what the ads used to say, back when it first opened when I was a kid. It's kind of become a dump since then. I should know, I used to work security here."

But Kalistratos obviously couldn't care less about the suspicious youths loitering in the corners with their weed vapes, the crude dicks Sharpied and scratched into the directory sign, or the smell of piss wafting from the area behind the vending machines. He takes everything in with wide, astonished eyes as I lead him past the Price-Cut Shoe Hut and the Pretzel Wagon into the mall's main plaza.

"Incredible," he says. "There must be a merchant for everything here."

"Just about," I reply. "Damn, I could kill for a slice of pizza. Why don't we stop by the food court first?"

"Peet…sah?"

"Oh, you're gonna love it. You'll see."

Fifteen minutes later, Kalistratos and I sit down with two big greasy slices of pepperoni pizza and two large Cokes.

"Go ahead, give it a try," I tell him, eager to see how he goes about tackling the massive slice.

To my surprise, Kalistratos needs no instruction. He picks it up, folds it like a pro, and takes a bite. He nods approvingly.

"Hm. Good. But if you want my honest opinion, I've had better."

"Don't tell me Circeana has pizza," I say.

"We call it plakous, but yes, something like this."

"Well, shit. If there's pizza in Circeana, I definitely feel better about leaving here for good."

Kalistratos wolfs down the pizza in seconds. I sip my Coke, a little bummed he hadn't reacted how I'd expected. Then he takes a drink and straightens up. I swear to God, even though he's wearing sunglasses I can see his pupils dilating as he swallows the first mouthful. He doesn't stop drinking. He's like a man sucking up water from a desert oasis, and in just a few moments, he's drunk the entire thing. The straw slurps loudly at the last few drops.

"This is the nectar of the gods!" he exclaims. "I've never?—"

He interrupts himself with the biggest burp I've ever heard, and he slaps his hand across his mouth. It seems like the entire food court has stopped to look at us. I wince.

"Sorry!" Kalistratos says, waving his hand. "Cheesus. That was unexpected."

"Glad you liked it," I laugh. "There are free refills. I'll get you more."

I go to the soda fountain and refill his drink. Kalistratos stares at the cup when I place it down in front of him.

"I don't understand. You can drink as much of this as you want? For no further cost? How is that possible?"

"I know, pretty sweet, right?"

He takes another gulp. "Sweeter than the finest honey in all of Athenos. And so cold, like a mountain stream. Delicious. By the Gods, who knew something could be so delicious? I would fill all of my water skins with this if I could."

"Don't drink too much of it, or you're going to be sorry later."

Kalistratos is already hopped up on caffeine, and I realize aside from his brief encounter with coffee earlier in the morning, he's probably never been caffeinated before.

"Now what?" he asks eagerly. "Show me more of this wondrous place."

We leave the food court after Kalistratos stops by the machine one more time to fill up the cup, and is fascinated when he realizes there are more options to choose from than just Coke. He drains his cup in several gulps and begins to sample each one. I have to drag him away as a line of irritated people begins to form behind him.

We're back at the mall's main plaza, and Kalistratos stops to gawk at nearly everything we pass as he sips his soda. A girl at a toy kiosk is giving a demonstration of a small, remote-controlled drone. It zooms around with a shrill buzz like an angry bee, and Kalistratos grabs and shoves me behind him.

"What is this creature?!" he barks. "Tyler, stay down!"

"No, Kalistratos, it's?—"

The drone zips playfully over our heads, but Kalistratos whips out his hand and sends a rippling ray of heat at it. The little motors let out an anguished whine before it drops to the ground, just a blackened lump of melted plastic. Everyone around us seems unaware that it was Kalistratos's doing. I guess when you're not used to seeing real magic, it can easily pass right in front of your eyes. I grab Kalistratos's arm and quickly drag him away.

"That was a toy, dude," I tell him. "You killed her toy."

"Ah, sorry!" he calls back at the girl, who is gathering the charred remains of her drone.

Alright, I think. We need to just get our shit done with and get out of here before Kalistratos draws any more attention to himself.

Bringing him out of the house probably wasn't the greatest idea, but I was too afraid that if I stepped away from him, he might disappear into thin air. I wasn't going to let him out of my sight.

"By the Gods!" he exclaims and disappears from my side.

I spin around to see him making a beeline for the mall's crown jewel, the multi-tiered decorative fountain at the center of the plaza. He looks so excited as it sprays multiple jets of water high into the air. He's like an overly stimulated, sugar-fueled kid. It's adorable as it is funny.

I watch as he sits at the edge of the fountain, admiring the water. Then he opens his soda cup and dips it in.

"Kalistratos, wait, no!!"

I bolt to him and he looks at me just before he's about to take a big drink.

"What?" he says. "Is this not a free refill?"

"Not unless you wanna be puking your guts out in a few minutes."

We walk over to an actual drinking fountain, and Kalistratos takes a disappointed glance back at the cascading jets.

"Such a tantalizing spring could be the watering hole of the great Phehassus himself," he says. "To fill it with foul water is beyond comprehension."

"Yeah, well, welcome to Earth, where everything's made up and the points don't matter."

Kalistratos immediately forgets about everything else the moment we step into the department store. The blinding white display lights, massive glowing advertisements, and soul-penetrating mixture of scents from the makeup and perfume department have short-circuited his brain. Not even sunglasses can protect him from the overstimulation of this place. The giant smiling face of a woman rubbing cream on her cheek stares down at us from a large-screen TV. Kalistratos reacts as he catches his reflection in a dozen mirrors of every size and position all around us. Someone is testing a perfume, and they spritz a sample onto a little tester strip. The mist floats over us, and Kalistratos coughs and covers his face.

"Cheesus. We're being poisoned."

Finally, we make it through to the clothing department.

"Probably just get a pair of jeans, some underwear and a couple of shirts," I say.

"By the Gods… Is it necessary to need so many garments? Here. This looks similar enough to my chiton. Can I not wear this?" He plucks a short orange sun dress with a blue flower pattern off the rack and holds it up to examine. "Hm. It's a bit small."

I immediately picture him with it on, the thin fabric riding up high on his buff calves. I snicker.

"I would pay good money to see you strutting around in that thing," I tell him. "But for the sake of keeping a low profile, we'd better let me pick your clothing."

I buy him a pack of boxer briefs, then pick out some dark wash Levis and a few basic shirts to try on, and after explaining how to put everything on, I send him to the fitting room. I loiter around the area outside, absently staring at the endless shelves of jeans. In my pocket is the piece of paper with the mystery symbol drawn on it, along with my chicken phoenix figurine.

The soothing familiarity of my old life here on Earth has a disturbingly strong pull. I can feel it constantly trying to drag me back in. There's a routine here, a system I can plug back into. It's easy, it's simple, it's safe. Disturbingly, I keep having intrusive thoughts of running off with Kalistratos and dropping off the grid. Just the two of us living our lives out somewhere, never having to think about the Great Phoenix again.

Not going to happen.

I squeeze the figurine tightly. It's become kind of like a totem for me. Every time I touch it, I remember Circeana. I remember the baby I left behind.

Then, something strange happens. For a moment, I swear to God it feels like the figurine grows warmer in my palm, like a rock that's been sitting by an open fire. I pull it out of my pocket and look at it. The feeling has gone away. Was it just my imagination? Just the heat of my hand?

Pay attention.

The thought is not quite a voice inside of my head, but more like a feeling in my gut. I look up. Standing at the far side of the store are a pair of police officers speaking to a mall security guard. The guard points at the fitting rooms and the officers look over, right at me.

"Oh shit," I whisper, dropping down to a crouch behind a rack of cargo shorts. I peek over it and see the two officers heading in my direction with their hands positioned on the backs of their holstered pistols. Yeah, this ain't no coincidence. They're coming for us.

I run into the fitting room area, ignoring the protests of the employee manning the desk.

"Kalistratos!" I shout. "Get out here, we've got a problem."

He pulls the curtain open, and I see that he's only gotten so far as to try on one of the shirts.

"No time, we've gotta run. We'd better hope these things fit you."

"What is it?" he asks.

"Police. Someone must've recognized you from the news. Fuck, I shouldn't have brought you with me."

"I can fight them," he says.

"No, we've gotta get out of here. Right there, emergency exit. GO! Take the jeans with you!"

As we make a run for it, the clerk at the desk starts to shout and wave for the police. "They're getting away!" he yells.

I smash through the emergency exit double doors, dragging Kalistratos behind me. We're in a service hallway.

"This way," I say, moving right. "There's another exit out this way that'll take us closer to the south side of the mall. We can get to the street from there."

And then what? Wait for the bus to come? Kalistratos could use his powers to get us out of the mall, but once he's out of energy we'll be out of options. We could end up stranded, and the cops will definitely be looking everywhere for him.

Think, Tyler.

We hang a right and nearly collide with a girl in a Pretzel Wagon uniform coming out from a side door. She screams and falls against the wall, the spring-mounted pretzel on her hat bobbing madly back and forth like a jack-in-the-box. I hear the double doors bang open far behind us, and the clomp of the police officer's shoes on the linoleum tile.

"Come on, Kalistratos!" I urge him. "Hurry!"

With a frustrated roar, he grabs the sides of his too-tight sweatpants and rips them right off his body. The pretzel girl screams again. He's completely naked from the waist down.

"Much better," he grunts, speeding up.

"Oh, great," I say. "Shirt-cocking it. Why didn't you put the jeans on in the fitting room?"

"They intimidate me," he says.

We slam through another set of double doors and are outside again. To the right is the plaza fountain. To the left, the parking lot. Suddenly, I get an idea.

"This way," I say.

We dash toward the center plaza, then quickly go left to the shops across from the fountain. It feels like all eyes are on us thanks to Kalistratos. I quickly drag us into a passageway to the left where the bathrooms and vending machines are. There's another door here with a passcode that leads to a passage that circumnavigates the entire mall, used for shipping and stocking for all the shops and the food court. But what I was hoping to find here is now nothing but an empty alcove with a couple of wires sticking out of a graffiti-tagged wall. There are still bolts sticking out of the concrete where the old payphones used to be when I worked here.

"Shit," I mutter. "Shit, shit, shit."

Kalistratos tears open the package of underwear and hops around as he attempts to put on a pair upside down.

"Other way," I tell him.

He gets them on, then yanks off the Velcro sandals I'd given him and pulls on the pair of jeans with the tags still dangling from the waist. I sneak to the end of the hallway and peek out into the plaza. The cops are there, looking around. People are pointing.

"Fuck," I say. "Kalistratos. Can you use your powers? I need you to do two things."

"Of course."

"Those two police officers. Don't hurt them, but put them out of commission. And get me a phone."

"A foan," he repeats. "The glowing stones? How many do you want?"

"Only one." I look back. They're coming our way.