Haddock had blacked out briefly while they were carrying Sweetpea off, but now that he was conscious again shame overruled his pain. He was the nearly-lance-corporal, she was the new recruit, and he had just let them take her off to do gods knew what. Well, he was pretty sure he knew what, and since he thought he recognized the Sto Kerrig Three, it wasn't going to be survivable.
Haddock pulled the barely-used bell from his belt and rang it as hard as he could. They hadn't gotten very far from the Watch house, and hopefully Pediment would hear it and alert Fittly. How good were gargoyle's ears, anyway?
He rang until he couldn't ring any longer and his arm fell to the ground in exhaustion. Just as he stopped, he heard running footsteps. In fact, it sounded like a small earthquake, but that meant that Corporal Flint was on his way. Dars was probably with him. She was going to go absolutely librarian.
His line of sight wasn't very good from down here on the ground, but thankfully when Dars skidded to a halt in front of him, she knelt down to see him better. She wasn't even trying to hide her look of alarm.
"Haddock, are you all right? Where's Lance-Constable Hakim?"
"It was the Sto Kerrig Three," he groaned. "They attacked us—shot me in the foot and dragged Hakim off."
"The Sto Kerrig-!" Dars began, but the corporal interrupted her.
"Constable Haddock needs to be taken to der Free Hospital," he said. "Constable Ironcrust, alert der Yard. Tell dem we need someone wid a good sense o' smell over here right away."
Flint picked Haddock carefully up, but the constable still gasped as his foot was jolted. The corporal began striding towards Treacle Mine Road. Every footfall made the windows on nearby buildings rattle. Dars jogged along to keep up.
"But sir, somebody should go after Hakim right away! There's no telling what the Three are going to do to her, she might even be dead by now! Let Fittly and I go—"
"No, constable," Flint said with all the sharpness of his namesake. "You too invested. And der Shades might be mostly safe, but if we start knockin' on doors at night dere'll be trouble. We need backup."
"We need to go after her!" Dars insisted. The corporal stopped. The Watch house was visible just down the street.
"Go clacks der Yard, Ironcrust. Dat's an order."
Flint waited until Dars had started towards the station before heading in the direction of Goosegate.
"Sir, I think Lance-Constable Hakim might be alive," whispered Haddock. Any louder and his words would turn into a scream; his foot was in agony. "If they'd wanted to kill her right away they would have done it in front of me, and I'd probably be dead too. But they carried her off. Somewhere." Haddock stopped. It wasn't just his foot that was causing him pain. "I should have done something different, sir. I let them—"
"You didn't let dem do anyfing," said Flint. "You fought back. If it anyone's fault it mine. I should have been der one to take Hakim out on patrol in der Shades."
He looked down at Haddock, but the constable had fallen unconscious again.
"Urgent clacks, sir!" cried Carrot as he thundered up the steps to Vimes's office.
"What?" the commander of the Watch asked, jumping up. "Is there another riot? I didn't think there was a game today."
"No, sir, it's worse." Carrot handed him the pink slip of the clacks. "Lance-Constable Hakim's been kidnapped, sir."
Vimes stared down uncomprehendingly at the short message from Constable Ironcrust. "Hakim, Hakim...and why would an officer get kidnapped, not taken hostage?"
"You know, the press liaison?" Carrot prompted.
"Sweetpea Hakim?" Vimes shouted. "Her? Oh, gods. Who would be so stupid as to kidnap a Watch officer? All the criminals around here know that assaulting one's a hanging offense."
"That's the thing, sir," said Carrot. "They're not from around here. The men who took her were the Sto Kerrig Three."
Vimes bit back a swear word and began buckling on his sword.
"Get Angua on the case," he growled. "We don't want those bastards' kill count to rise any further."
Sweetpea struggled out of unconsciousness. She blearily took stock of her surroundings. She was in some kind of enclosed space, and there was rowdy laughter nearby. The noise sent her head aching—most of the pain was coming from her eye. What had…?
The laughter coalesced into three separate voices, men's voices, and then she remembered. Ah, yes. The Sto Kerrig Three. She was going to die.
Gone was her new armor; she had been stripped down to her tunic and leggings. It didn't look like they'd touched her otherwise. That probably wasn't going to last very long. The best she could hope for at this point was that it would be quick.
It may have been the fear of death talking, but a strange thought came into Sweetpea's head: what did you do at death's door?
You prayed.
With some difficulty in the cramped space, Sweetpea got down on her knees and clasped her hands together. It had been a while since she'd done this. The last time…was the day her mother died. She might be seeing her mother soon.
"Please," she whispered. "To Offler—to anybody listening. I know you're listening more carefully now. I need help, from anybody. These men are going to kill me, and I could really use a miracle."
There was a sudden shift in the world—or at least, the part of the world containing Sweetpea Hakim. There was the sensation of the back of her head being opened and light pouring in. It was the strangest thing Sweetpea had ever experienced. It didn't hurt, exactly, but there was the feeling that something in her head was too big to be contained by a mere mortal skull.
As it happens, I was listening. And you're just the sort of person I've been looking for, said a voice in her head.
"Who are you?" whispered Sweetpea. "Are you a god?" Although she had been praying, prayers didn't usually work like that. It was just as likely that the voice in her head was just a demon pretending to be a god.
Got it in one. I'm Seven-Handed Sek. I'm sure you've heard of me.
"Of course. You're the god of…Well, you've got a lot of things covered. Healing, writing…brick-laying, for some reason."
Yes, there's a funny story about that. But right now worship is down and I need a part-time vessel to represent me here on the Disc. An avatar, in fact. You, Sweeptea Hakim, are ideal.
"Why me?" Sweetpea asked suspiciously. This was all rather convenient. "If I were to claim any god it'd be Offler. Why don't you use one of your own followers as an avatar? Though far be it from me to criticize a god," she added quickly.
None of them have actually lined up to volunteer. The voice in Sweetpea's head sounded embarrassed, as far as that was possible. But here you are, asking for help. I figured that you'd be willing, in your hour of need.
There were footsteps, close by. One of the men's voices sounded as if he were right next to the closet door. Sweetpea weighed her current future up against the idea of doing some light miracle work a few times a week.
"What do I have to do?"
Well, I'm very careful about making sure my avatars are consenting. So you have to give verbal consent before I can possess you.
There was a rattle at the doorknob. Sweetpea jumped to her feet. Demon or no, she wanted to get out of this current predicament in one piece. She could worry about being possessed later.
"YesIconsentnowpleasehurry!"
The light that had been threatening to make Sweetpea's head explode moved to fill her whole body. The uncomfortable feeling was a lot more manageable. That is, until Sweetpea realized that her limbs weren't obeying her.
I can't—I can't move! She said in her own head, not with her own mouth.
"Relax," said Sek with her mouth, and flexed her limbs. "You're the passenger for a while. Just watch."
The door to the closet opened, and Sek (using Sweetpea's body) promptly kicked the man who had opened it in the face. The man staggered backwards, and Sek followed him, almost casually punching him in the ribs, stomach, and throat.
"The first hand of Sek is the hand of helping," said Sek conversationally. They pulled the man towards them and kneed him in the fork. Sweetpea saw, from behind her own eyes, that the two other men were sitting at a ragged couch. One of them jumped up.
"Hey!" he yelled. Sek executed a double flying kick that sent him backwards.
"The second hand is the hand of healing," she said to the room. Sweetpea didn't know that her body could move like that. She was impressed.
The first man that Sek had dealt with punched them from behind in the ribcage. Removed as she was from her own body, Sweetpea could only feel a ghost of the pain. Sek seemed to ignore it entirely. But as they turned to punch the man, Sweetpea saw the knife dripping with blood.
He stabbed you! Me—us! Sweetpea said, her indignity somewhat marred by her pronoun confusion.
"Stab a god, would you?" Sek asked as the punch connected with his jaw. "Of course, you don't know I'm a god, but that sort of makes it worse. You really were in trouble here, Hakim."
Behind us! said Sweetpea by way of a response. Sek backhanded the third man, but not before he wildly fired off his crossbow. Sweetpea felt that one land, right in the shoulder. It didn't stop Sek. They bowled right into him, knocking him to the floor.
"The third hand of Sek is the hand of cooking," Sek said to the man groaning beneath them. They somersaulted off of him and chopped the last man in the throat.
"The fourth hand of Sek is the hand of vengeance."
The man gurgled and fell to the floor. Sek looked around at the three men lying around the room, in various stages of pain or unconsciousness.
"And then there are some more, but honestly I can never remember the last three. Okay, Hakim, I've got things to do. I'm giving you back control now. Be talking to you soon."
The light permeating Sweetpea's body began to fade, sucked back up through the trapdoor in the back of her mind.
Hey—wait! Once you go, won't everything start to—
"Hurt," she finished. Thus back in control of her body, she promptly fell over. Apparently, Sweetpea's body agreed that she hadn't physically been able to execute most of those moves. One of her legs was dislocated, or at least had a few muscles pulled. The stab wound in her back was oozing, and so was the place in her shoulder where the crossbow bolt was still stuck. There were a dozen other hurts all over, ones she hadn't noticed while the golden light was filling her body.
"Eyurgh," she mumbled.
SWEETPEA HAKIM?
A hooded figure extended a very thin hand and helped her up. All of Sweetpea's pain was gone, and in fact she felt very light and free. She looked up into a skull, with blue eyes twinkling amiably.
"That's me," she said. "Er…Mr Death."
JUST DEATH WILL DO. He regarded the body at his feet, which Sweetpea realized with a jolt was her own. She thought that maybe she should be panicking but was aware of this only in the way that a city-dweller is aware of, say, trees.
I GOT TO YOU AS SOON AS I COULD, Death said gravely. I KNOW YOU WERE IN QUITE A LOT OF PAIN. THESE MEN WILL GET WHAT'S COMING TO THEM. EVENTUALLY.
"Thanks," said Sweetpea. "But, uh, Sek sort of appeared unto me and saved me from all that."
DID THEY? OH BOTHER.
Death reached into his robes and pulled out an hourglass. There was a decent amount of sand at the bottom, but at the top all the grains were golden.
YOU'RE AN AVATAR, sighed Death like wind moaning through a graveyard. WELL, I WISH THEY WOULD HAVE GIVEN ME MORE NOTICE. I HAVE A SCHEDULE TO KEEP, YOU KNOW.
"I expect you do," said Sweetpea politely. "Does this mean I can go back to my body?"
YES, GO ON, said Death somewhat crossly. I SHALL SEE YOU AGAIN IN… He looked from Sweetpea, to the hourglass, and back. A WHILE.
Sergeant Angua was still pulling on her armor as she spoke to the Watchmen before her.
"It's that building there, I'm sure of it. I smelled her, as well as three men. Er…this is a little strange, but Hakim and the men are all unconscious."
"But she's alive?" Dars asked anxiously. She was gripping a short-handled, very sharp-looking axe. Angua glanced at Vimes and Carrot before saying to the dwarf,
"Yes, Constable Ironcrust, she's alive. But I smelled a lot of blood."
"If the SK Three are unconscious, then we should go in now before they wake up," said Commander Vimes. He was holding a loaded crossbow, along with the sword at his belt. "Carrot, Fittly, Ironcrust—on my signal."
It was a good thing they'd left Angua outside. Lance-Constable Hakim was lying just inside the door, covered in blood. Upon close inspection, it was revealed to be mostly hers. Dars was almost insensible with a rage to rival Vimes's own, and it was a good thing Carrot was there to keep police brutality to a minimum. With Fittly's help, he cuffed the men and dragged them outside. Vimes decided that it would be too dangerous to move Sweetpea. He almost sent Dars to get an ambulance, then saw the gleam in her eye and thought better of it.
"Angua!" Vimes yelled out the open door. "We're going to need to get Hakim to the hospital right away. Find the nearest clacks tower and have them send an ambulance to this location. Code OOO."
Sweetpea woke up, which was unexpected. She was lying in a cool white bed, which was nice, but her whole body was numb, which was rather unpleasant. Her neck was working, though, and she was able to lift her head high enough to see that she was in the hospital. Furthermore, a familiar dwarf was dozing in a chair at her bedside.
"Hello, Dars," she said hoarsely. Dars snapped awake and launched herself towards Sweetpea's bed.
"Sweetpea! Oh, you—you're—they didn't think you'd be awake so soon."
Dars seemed rather flustered, and Sweetpea realized that this dwarf, whom she'd only known for a few days, had been sleeping by her bedside, waiting for her to wake up. Dars was worried. The realization sent a warm sensation throughout the body that Sweetpea couldn't feel.
"But what happened, Sweetpea?" Dars asked. "When Sergeant Angua found you, it looked like there'd been a huge fight. Did you take out the Sto Kerrig Three all by yourself?"
"It's kind of complicated," said Sweetpea weakly.
"Oh, of course, Hasan will want to know you're up." Dars crossed the room to the door, and Sweetpea followed by severely craning her neck.
"Hasan is here?" Well, of course he was. He was probably worried sick. The thought almost brought Sweetpea to tears.
"I quite like him, you know," said Dars from the door. "I think he appreciated having company while you were in surgery. He's getting a sandwich now, I'll just go and fetch him. Poor lad—he hasn't eaten since you got here six hours ago."
Before Swetpea got the chance to ask any more questions, Dars was out the door and down the hall. Sweetpea let her head fall back on the pillow and tried to take it all in. The Sto Kerrig Three had kidnapped her, Seven-Handed Sek had possessed her in order to help her escape, she'd met Death, the Watch had found her somewhere in there, and now she was in the Free Hospital—probably in the John Keel Wing for injured Watchmen.
Right now, her biggest concern was Sek. The god obviously wanted to use her as an avatar more than once.
Once again, there was the feeling of a back door opening in Sweetpea's head, and suddenly she was sharing her head with another presence.
I said I'd be back, didn't I? Sorry I had to leave so suddenly. I heard you thinking about me—Hang on. Where are you? Why can't you feel anything?
"I'm in the hospital, and they've got me on anesthesia," Sweetpea explained. "When you left me so suddenly, I was kind of injured."
Hospital, eh? Well, we can't have that—weeks of recovery time and physical therapy? You won't be back on the streets for a month at least. I'm going to need you up and running long before that.
The numbness in Sweetpea's body faded away to be replaced by—not excruciating pain, as she'd been expecting—but rather, a feeling of freshness. Sweetpea quickly sat up and felt her shoulders. Gone was the slash in her collarbone, gone was the crossbow wound in her other shoulder, gone even was the soreness in her legs from unaccustomed walking.
"I'm healed," she said in disbelief.
Of course you are. Healing is my second hand, said Sek smugly.
"This is a hospital, isn't it?" Sweetpea tossed the covers aside and got out of bed. "We could go around and heal everyone!"
I knew there was reason I picked you, said Sek. Well done me. No, Hakim, we can't do that. Miracles are to be done sparingly. I think we'd better work out some terms before we proceed any further.
"All right," said Sweetpea, and reluctantly sat back down on the bed. "First of all, thank you for saving me. You can use my body to do whatever you want—under two conditions."
How come you're setting the conditions? Sek squawked.
"I don't think they'll be too hard for you to follow," said Sweetpea. "And if they are, I'll be a little worried. I'm practically giving you an all-access pass."
Go ahead, said Sek grudgingly.
"One: I still get to be a Watchman."
How can you possibly be an avatar and hold a job?
"Avataring isn't going to be a full-time position, is it?" asked Sweetpea with some alarm. She couldn't imagine being possessed all the time, never being in control of her own body…
Of course not! Said Sek, sounding just as horrified. I couldn't inhabit a mortal body for very long, it's extremely…limiting. And besides, I'll have business to take care of up in Cori Celesti.
"So why do you want to take on an avatar?" Sweetpea asked. She was thinking very carefully. Sek didn't seem to be intruding on her private thoughts, but that might be courtesy more than anything else. They were a god, after all—omnipotent, or omnipresent, or one of those things.
It's mostly courtesy, yes. I can't hear your low-level thoughts without concentrating.
"Oh—I didn't—"
Talking is still best. Don't worry, I couldn't access your subconscious even if I wanted to. That would be like you trying to interpret the thoughts of a dog.
"Thanks a lot," said Sweetpea more sourly than she meant to.
But anyway, to answer your original question: avatars are how we gods used to gather believers in the old days. That and impregnating people. Much easier than a physical manifestation. If your avatar is really cooperative, you can almost be in two places at once. I'm going to need you to set up some time with the Mother Superior of my order. I think the current one is a woman named Antonelle, or possibly Abagaila. It's so hard to keep track.
"So do you agree to my first condition or not?" Sweetpea pressed, aware that Sek had skillfully steered the conversation—for lack of a word describing talking out loud to the voice in your head—off track.
Yes, I suppose. Not my fault if you're exhausted from watchman and avatar duties all the time. But I did say I only wanted a part-time avatar. What's the other condition?
"When you possess me, you can only use my body to do good."
The presence in Sweetpea's head was silent for a long while. Sweetpea would have worried that Sek had left, except for the fact that her head was still full of a light it could barely contain.
"Sek?"
Quiet, I'm thinking. Yes. Yes, I think that miracles will be the best way to attract followers. Any smiting I might do will not be through you. That's fair.
"How long will this go on for?" Sweetpea asked.
Hm. I can't see it being a permanent affair. Once people are believing in gods—mainly me-and when I'm certain that they'll be doing so for a while, then I'll be using you less and less. Sek paused. As far as I know, I'm the first god to have thought of using an avatar. Once you start doing miracles, other gods will want to get their own avatars.
"Do you think I'll be in any danger?"
As my avatar? Good me, no. When I'm possessing you, you won't come to any harm.
"And when you're not possessing me?" Sweetpea probed, with a policeman's knack for noticing what wasn't said.
Rest assured that I'll be keeping an eye on you. I went through all the trouble of rescuing you and healing you. I'm not going to just let some punk stab you in an alleyway.
A thought came to Sweetpea's mind of some crazed follower of Om, or even Blind Io, attacking her. The vision must have been so strong that Sek was forced to say,
If any of the other gods touch you, they'll have me to deal with up in Cori Celesti. And trust me, I'm the equal of all the major gods up there. Offler isn't going to get away with anything.
"Oh, you," Sweetpea exclaimed. "Offler. Do you think he'll be mad? I mean, I sort of am Offlian. By blood if not by practice."
I'll talk to him, Sek promised. I can't guarantee that his followers won't be angry at you. I daresay you know quite a few local parishioners.
"Yes, I do," Sweetpea groaned. She could just hear the outraged questions.
"What are you doing up?" demanded a voice from the door. Yes, like that.
"Sweetie, how can you possibly be moving?"
Hasan and Dars were standing together at the door to Sweetpea's hospital room.
I could give a demonstration, Sek suggested. That would explain things pretty quickly.
"That'll be a last resort, Sweetpea muttered. To her brother and Dars she said, "Stop gawking and come in, you two. I'll explain things, but there's no guarantee that you'll believe me."
Dars took the chair, and Hasan hovered protectively by Sweetpea's bed.
Is this your brother? Sek asked. He's been crying.
It was easy to see once Sek had pointed it out. Hasan's eyes were red, and a used hanky was sticking out of his pocket. Sweetpea pulled him onto the bed next to her and squeezed him in a huge hug. Hasan gratefully returned the hug.
"Okay," said Dars impatiently. "Sibling love is great and all, but I need an explanation right now."
Ooh, I like her, said Sek.
Me too, Sweetpea thought to herself, and hoped Sek hadn't heard.
"After the Sto Kerrig Three got me, I woke up in this closet somewhere and started to pray. I didn't care who heard, I just wanted a miracle."
"And the gods are being extra receptive," Hasan interrupted.
"Yes, dear brother, but please be quiet. To my surprise, it wasn't Offler who answered my prayers but Seven-Handed Sek. They offered to take care of the SK3 if I agreed to be their avatar here on the Disc."
"And you must have agreed," said Dars. Sweetpea glared at her. "Sorry. Pray, continue."
"I did agree. Sek possessed me and gave the Sk3 a righteous beating. Unfortunately, in the process I was severely injured. I suppose you know this part of the story, Dars—I wasn't awake for it."
"The Watch takes care of their own," said Dars proudly. "We all worked on getting you back. Captain Angua, Captain Carrot, even Commander Vimes helped rescue you." She looked Sweetpea up and down. "Although it looks like you rescued yourself."
"Sek rescued me," Sweetpea corrected. "Otherwise I don't think you would have found me alive in there."
"Let's not think about that," said Hasan with a shudder. "But how are you up and about so quickly? The doctors said you wouldn't be able to walk for a few days."
"One of Sek's hands is the hand of healing," said Sweetpea. "They didn't want me to have to lie around in a hospital bed while I could be performing miracles for them."
"I know hardly anything about Sek," admitted Hasan. "You're going to have to do some research."
"Yes," said Sweetpea slowly. "Yes, I think I am."