by Amy Sumida
One of those outings had been to a yacht party. I don’t remember much about the festivities but I remember the boat. When, as an adult, I’d mentioned the memory to her, she had nervously asked what else I remembered. I pressed her to elaborate. She said there was a small space of time when I’d gone missing and they had finally found me overboard. I was three. She sees no connection to my fear of the ocean.
To be completely honest, I must admit that Jaws played a small part in my terror of the deep blue as well, and an even bigger role in me not taking up surfing (I don't like feeling like bait, thank you very much) but I had no thoughts of killer sharks when I boarded Thor’s floating behemoth. I didn’t think about the water at all actually since the boat… ship… whatever, was so big, I forgot the ocean was even there. No small feat when dealing with me and my paranoia.
Thor took my hand to help me across the gangplank and didn't release it. He pulled me casually through the interior of the thing, passing room after room of shining mahogany paneling and gleaming steel. I caught glimpses of plush carpeting in dark blue and matching curtains fluttering in the warm salty breeze. The boat must have been specially made for him because even with his bulk, he didn’t look cramped at all. In fact, we were walking down the corridor side by side and his head didn't even come close to brushing the ceiling.
We stopped at a stairway and went down into the belly of the beast. Maybe not the best description under the circumstances but it fit. At the bottom of the stairs was a large open room. The carpeting down there was crimson, the massive center table was black lacquer, and all the décor had an Asian feel. Not what I expected from a Norse god. Shouldn’t there be coarse wooden tables and battle axes? Maybe a buxom wench with blonde braids named Brunhilde?
Instead of axes, there were swords. Katanas and the shorter wakizashis were protected in shiny ebony sheaths and displayed proudly on the walls. There was also a brilliant white wedding kimono dominating the wall opposite us, with hand embroidered gold cranes all over it. The walls themselves were covered in soft gold wallpaper with more cranes flying across the expanse, so subtly done that you had to concentrate to see them. On my right was a suit of Samurai armor, complete with a bright red, demon face mask. I swear it was smiling at me and not in a good way, more of a It'll be fun to eviscerate you sort of way. I ignored it on principal.
In the center of the table, a delicate white orchid bloomed in a shiny black pot, colored subtly by light shining through the red and gold lacquered paper parasols above it. The parasol lights gave a pink tint to the room, like the boat was blushing in the face of unexpected company. It shouldn't have worried though, the place was immaculate. Any conquering warlord would have happily dripped blood onto the conveniently colored carpet before shucking off his armor and calling for a geisha. I know, that was terribly white of me but I’m only a quarter Japanese and I’ve never even been to Japan, so you’re gonna have to forgive me my clichés. Plus, I think it’s an apt description. The room was fiercely beautiful but even with the kimono and orchid, it was supremely masculine.
To the right of the kimono, a door opened into the galley. I was very pleased with myself for remembering the correct name of a ship’s kitchen. I was not so pleased to find a stunning woman standing in the doorway. My pleasure went down, even more, when she smiled and poured a warm, welcoming wave of magic out towards me. She wasn't blonde and I highly doubted her name was anything even close to Brunhilde but I had no doubt as to why she was on Thor's boat. My sudden jealousy was as embarrassing as it was ridiculous.
Did I really think I was special because he held my hand? Sheesh, what was I, sixteen? I'll tell you what I was, I was an idiot. I dropped Thor's hand like it was on fire.
“I’m Persephone,” the newcomer said as she reached a hand toward me.
Her hand enveloped mine and I suddenly felt like the world was a fresh, wondrous place full of new things to discover. I was a little girl again, peering under rocks and crawling through the grass in search of tiny treasures. I shook my head a little and Persephone smiled brighter, her small mouth looking almost too childish for such a sultry face. She had long dark hair the color of rich soil and green bedroom eyes like morning leaves still shaking off the night. A porcelain doll but one that was made for men. She laughed as I continued to gape at her and I felt her power tickle me.
“I’m Vervain,” I finally managed to choke out my name and pull my hand from hers. “Persephone, as in the cause of winter, that Persephone?”
“Well I hardly think it’s my fault Mommy had a fit because Hades abducted me,” she actually pouted a little and I heard Thor sigh heavily behind me.
“Hey, I’ve never been one to blame the victim,” I held up my hands placatingly. It’s never a good idea to aggravate the crazies. “I was just repeating what I remember of the myth. Frankly, I always thought Hades must be a bastard if he had to kidnap a woman to get a date.”
Persephone’s smile returned to its former glory immediately “Well it's a little more complicated than that but thank you. I just knew we’d be the best of friends! You're named for a plant after all and I'm a goddess of growing things.”
“It's a herb actually,” I hated always having to explain my name. It's the same questions every time and always the same replies. It's Vervain, not Vivian. Yes, I know it's unusual. No, it's not a flower. Sigh.
Mom had thought it fabulously witty to name a baby witch after a herb with great magical benefits. Vervain was used for love, money, protection, peace, purification, and even youth. You couldn't ask for a better mix of powers. However, most people were not witches or even versed in our folklore. So I spent a lot of time explaining what vervain was and why my mother would name me after it. If you think that's bad, my middle name is Alexandrite, not Alexandra but Alexandrite, like the gem. People at the DMV are constantly trying to correct the “typos” in my name. There is no creativity allowed in the DMV.
“Yes, I know,” she wrapped an arm around me and led me to the table as I cast a help me look over my shoulder at Thor.
He smiled broadly and spread his hands as he shrugged. Great, so much for his protection. Meanwhile, Ms. Happy Face pulled me down into a seat beside her. I wondered if she was also familiar with our local herb. Maybe she had smoked some back in the galley. It would explain the permagrin.
“Interesting that you pronounce the H in herb. Were you raised in England?” She went on.
“No,” I smirked, pleased to get to use my favorite Eddie Izzard line. “I say herb because there's a fucking H in it.”
“Oh, well, um,” she obviously wasn't an Izzard fan. “I’ve heard so much about you. You’re awfully brave for a human girl.”
My eyes narrowed as I looked at her and I heard Thor’s strangled laugh. Was this innocent child routine all an act? Boy, she was good if it was. No problem, I can throw down with the best of them.
“And you’re awfully naive for someone who sleeps with the Devil,” I smiled, waiting for the barb to slide home but she only giggled and lightly pushed my shoulder.
“You’re funny too. Hades isn't the Devil, he's the Lord of the Underworld,” she flicked her thick hair back. Hair-flickers really annoy me. She was probably one of those people with motivational quotes written on Post-its all over her bedroom.
“So I’ve heard,” I looked pointedly at Thor. “What the hell is this Thor, a meet and greet?”
“Pretty much,” he slid into the chair on my right and I couldn’t help the little jolt of pleasure I felt because he’d chosen to sit beside me instead of Little Miss Sunshine. And I'm back to being sixteen again.
“Is this it?” I looked from him to her and back again. “Just you, me, and your girlfriend here?”
Persephone hooted with laughter but Thor just raised an eyebrow, turned his head to the side, and casually slung an arm over the back of my chair.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Persephone giggled again. “I thought you understood; I’m with Hades.”
�
�You only see him three months out of the year if the stories are true,” I leaned towards Thor so I could get a better look at her, and yes, it was the only reason I leaned closer to him. It had nothing to do with that refreshing scent of his.
“Uh-huh, Mom’s a little controlling,” she was really starting to get on my nerves with the baby voice.
“So one thing I’ve learned is that the stories of gods are partially based on fact but are mostly fiction. By accepting the power humanity’s worship gives you, you accept their beliefs and allow that power to change you into all they hold true. You are in effect transformed by the thoughts of humans.” I waited for her to nod politely. “However, you still possess free will and can basically do as you please. You are transformed by us but not completely restricted by us.”
“Yes, that’s true,” she murmured and looked away.
“What am I missing?” I looked to Thor for an answer.
“Hades is pretty powerful,” Thor’s lips pressed together. “He’s also pretty jealous. I doubt he'd put up with any competition.”
“So you let this guy rule your life even when you’re away from him?” I couldn’t believe she was that submissive. Well then again.
“Not completely,” her bottom lip pushed out. “I just don’t want to consort with anyone else. Besides, no one wants to get Hades mad either. I’m not worth it.”
Holy crap, it was a goddess with an inferiority complex. The surprises just kept on coming. I looked over at Thor and he shrugged again before running his thumb down the back of my neck. I sat up straight and realized I was effectively trapped between the two of them.
“Back off, Boy Thunder,” I growled between clenched teeth.
Maybe Persephone wasn't his girl but she'd given me a much-needed wake-up call. I was out of my league there, playing with the big gods and that was probably all Thor was doing with me... playing.
Thor laughed and leaned in to say something else but before he could speak, the air in front of us shimmered and a figure coalesced. When it was fully formed, there was a striking Indian man standing before us (Indian with a dot, not feather). He was under six feet tall but well muscled and his dark skin shone softly against the vivid red silk of his dress shirt. He had on black pants, a thin leather Gucci belt, and matching shoes. His ebony hair curled around his collar and eased some of the harshness from his features but the close cropped-beard added a hint of menace. Great, now what?
“Brahma,” Thor nodded slightly, “thanks for coming.”
Hmph. I knew a little about Brahma. Hindu God of Knowledge; four heads, four arms, red skin, thought himself into existence. He gave new meaning to the term I think therefore I am. I counted his head again. Yep, still only one and a measly two arms. I was a little disappointed.
“Of course,” Brahma nodded back but then dismissed the Viking entirely and focused on me. “You have a human with you?” He pulled out a chair across from us and slid into it as he inspected me. “She has power too,” he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, then shivered, “delicious power.”
Okay, that was creepy. I stiffened and looked around me, trying to find the quickest escape route. I had no intention of being this guy's next combo meal. I was keeping all of my energy, thank you. Before I could bolt, Thor’s hand came off of the chair and settled on my shoulder. He rubbed gently, then clamped down firmly. I was really starting to worry about his so called protection.
“Remember, I gave you a blood oath,” he whispered, “you’ve nothing to fear when I’m with you.”
“You gave her blood?” Brahma sat back as his dark eyes rounded. “Who is this woman?”
“She’s the Godhunter,” Persephone piped up merrily.
“You?” Brahma leaned in again, turning his head from side to side as if he could catch some previously missed detail if he just got a better angle.
“I’m rather unremarkable no matter how you look at me,” I sighed.
I knew I was no great beauty. I’d call myself passing pretty if I had to label it, pretty enough to pass by without gagging. Sitting next to a goddess didn’t help. Then there was that whole lack of muscles thing, so I didn't even have the warrior babe look going for me. I told you; angry Poodle. Especially with my humidity-frizzed hair.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Thor’s whisper was so close to my ear, it tickled and made me jump at the same time.
Brahma laughed and leaned his face into one palm. “I wouldn’t either. You don’t have the perfection of a goddess but perfection can be tiring. Your looks are unique, even for a human. I see a charming mix of ethnicity in your face.”
“Yep, I’m a mutt.”
“I’d wondered about your people,” Thor looked down at me intently.
“I’m human,” I smiled sweetly, “they're all my people.”
Brahma chuckled. “Oh, I like her.”
“You’ve already got your hands full, Brahma,” Thor narrowed his eyes at the Hindu god. “Are you still cheating on Sarasvati?”
“I’m a god,” he drew himself up; “I must attend to my followers.”
“I’m sure your wife finds that comforting,” Thor snorted.
“We’ve gotten off subject,” Brahma spread his hands in a let’s not fight gesture. “I’d still like to know which people you’re descended from, Godhunter.”
“Call me Vervain, or V if you prefer,” I squirmed. Why were we talking about me? “I’m Irish, English, Dutch, French, German, Japanese, Cherokee, and Blackfoot.”
Thor’s eyes widened. “All of those?”
“I like to think of myself as a preview of what the world will be like someday,” I shrugged. “In the future, we’ll all be so mixed up, there will be only one race; Human.”
“Very noble,” Brahma grunted, “but it will never happen. You people take too much pride in what separates you. Look at me for example,” he waved a hand over himself. “Do you think I was born this way? No. Humans are so egotistical, they want their gods to look like them. Man was made in God's image, my ass! Man made gods in their own image. It's why Christ looks like a white man, even though history says he was Jewish. He's neither actually, he's Atlantean but when he first became a god, he looked Jewish because those were the people he chose to align himself with. But the Jews didn't want him and when Christianity spread, the white people wanted him to look more like them. With the change in belief, Christ's appearance changed. Actually, it was pretty funny. We used to tease him all the time about how he looked whiter each time we saw him. My but you're looking awful white this morning, we'd say.” Brahma chuckled as I gaped at him. “Kind of like Michael Jackson but that's a different story entirely. What I'm trying to say is that your pride in your differences is your people's greatest weakness. It’s what the other gods use to their advantage. There will always be one race who thinks they’re better than another.”
“There’s still hope for us,” I didn’t like the bizarre but truthful ring to his words. “I’m living proof.”
“That you are,” Thor played with the baby hairs around the nape of my neck and it sent tingles over my scalp. “You’re also the best mix of all of your ancestors. I like the blending of you.”
“Ah, that’s precisely what I was trying to say,” Brahma smiled widely, showing off even white teeth.
“Well aw shucks, boys,” I smirked.
I wasn’t entirely sure if they were just messing with me or not, so I felt safer to just go with the old standby sarcasm. Both of the “boys” seemed equally baffled and amused by my attitude but we were once more interrupted by an arrival. This time they just used the stairs.
A Native American couple strode in, hand in hand. I guess Thor wanted to represent both types of Indians. Maybe it was because of my heritage but I preferred them to Brahma instantly. The Hindu god was just a little too slick for my taste.
The man had on a crisp, white, dress shirt tucked into dark blue jeans which were in turn tucked into cowboy boots. His long, black hair was pulled back tightly in a pon
ytail that caught the light with blue shimmers. He had golden brown skin that practically glowed, high cheekbones, and a generous mouth. Almond shaped eyes, rimmed thickly in long lashes, glittered like chipped obsidian as they settled on us and the man smiled.
“You found the Godhunter,” he bowed slightly at the waist and I was shocked to realize that he was bowing to me. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you, little warrior. I’m Tsohanoai of the Navajos. This is my consort Estsanatlehi.”
The woman moved forward and with her came a warm breeze smelling of rain. She smiled and her long black hair flowed around her hips in a sudden breeze. She was slightly darker than her husband or maybe it was just that his skin was so bright, it made her look darker. Her cheekbones were just as high as his but her lips were fuller and were a deep red, like she'd just gorged herself on blackberries. She was dressed as simply as Tsohanoai, in a cotton dress of light blue.
“I’m sorry our son will not be joining us,” her voice was as sweet as her face but there was an underlying strength to it. “Nayenezgani receives the prayers of the warriors before battle and he believes his power is only in war.”
Tsohanoai came up behind her and pulled out a chair. She sank into it gracefully, slipping her long hair over the back so she wouldn’t sit on it. I was mesmerized and silently hoped she would be the end of the beauty parade for the evening. I didn’t think my ego could handle much more.