“You were just . . . testing me?” I mumbled.
“Yes,” Vayrelius said.
“You’re a really good actor.” I managed after a pause. “I’m . . . I’m sorry, I just–”
“There is no need to apologize. He meant to elicit such a reaction from you.” Viden said in a girlish voice that didn’t at all seem to match her eyes. She strode forward, followed by her brother to stand opposite Vayrelius and me. The two mirrored each other’s movements, walking in pace with each other, slowly and carefully as if every step was important and meant to be. When they stopped only a few feet in front of us, I got the urge to kneel. It didn’t feel right looking down on these gods.
“Many humans find wisdom the most difficult in a state of anger,” Kaval said.
“And only the wise speak with eloquence when in such a state.” Viden nodded.
“More often they stutter.”
“Lose their thoughts.”
“Forget why they came.”
“But you did not.” They two said finally in unison. It seemed they never finished a complete thought by themselves. They truly were like one all-knowing being. Just split in two.
“You weren’t . . . exactly eloquent.” Viden said. “And your emotions did get the best of you.”
I flushed, about to defend myself when they both held up a hand to stop me.
“However,” Kaval said. “You still spoke truth despite that. And all too often eloquence can be used to conceal lies.”
“Dress it up and make it seem like fact.” Viden nodded gravely.
“But you cannot lie about experience and what you experienced is all too real,” Kaval said.
“So, we grant you audience.”
I was breathless with relief and confusion. “Really?”
The twin gods’ mouths quirked in unison. “Really.”
“You were impressive,” Vayrelius said moving over to the table to gather up his things. “I can’t deny it. And don’t worry. I don’t take offense to your words. You believed I was belittling you. I apologize for any anger I might have caused you. I don’t really believe those things about slum dwellers.”
“No, don’t apologize. It’s fine.” I shook my head. How could I have ever yelled at this man? He was so polite.
“I will leave you alone.” Vayrelius gave me a nod, bowed to the twin gods, and then strode from the room.
“Do you always do that?” I asked, turning back to look at Viden and Kaval. “Anger those who want to meet with you?”
“Not always. It depends on the person,” Viden said.
“However, we could tell you were a slum dweller and probably more sensitive to being looked down upon,” Kaval said.
“Therefore it was the best option,” they said in unison.
“Oh . . . I see,” I said slowly.
“Never the less, it is interesting you have sought us out,” Viden said. “Usually slum dwellers do not seek wisdom.”
I opened my mouth to protest.
“Do not take offense, human,” Kaval said. “We merely state a fact. The percentage of slum dwellers who care for wisdom is far lower than those who favor us in the middle class and upper class. It is not a strike against you or who you are.”
“The outer ring is simply limiting.” Viden nodded.
“Oh, sorry.” I looked down. “You’re right. I am defensive about my class.”
“The apology is not necessary,” Kaval said. “The reason you are here is to meet with us, is it not?”
“Yes, it is,” I said, and for once tried to take a smarter tactic than my whole “I know about the apocalypse” bit. “This is a bit difficult to explain, so forgive me for not being completely straightforward. I believe my request requires context before it is asked.”
Wow, I sounded much smarter in the presence of Viden and Kaval. I guess their energy gifted people with eloquence. They certainly had calming gazes, and for some reason I wasn’t nearly as intimidated as I thought I would be. Maybe because of their childlike forms.
“And context cannot be provided after the request?” Viden raised an eyebrow, sitting down at the table. Kaval remained standing at her side.
“For this particular request? No. I’d really feel better if I gave context first,” I said.
“In that case, continue.” Kaval gave a nod.
I took a deep breath and began, “You seem to like humans. A bit more than I expected you to.”
“We find them interesting,” Viden admitted.
“Enjoyable,” Kaval agreed.
“And occasionally,” Viden gave a slight smile. “We come across one who can teach us something.”
“Show us something from a different point of view.” Kaval nodded.
“So you can learn from them,” I said slowly.
“Occasionally,” Viden said. “It’s not especially common. More often we are watching them, hoping they will eventually catch up.”
“Even now they are still trying to figure some things out,” Kaval said.
“Discover new texts.”
“Work out new equations.”
“Answer new problems.”
“So, there are still things you know that we don’t,” I said.
“Of course.” The twin gods exchanged a knowing look. “We assist the humans sometimes, usually by giving them hints through our distinguished pupils, such as Vayrelius.”
“Through our guidance, humans discovered machines, electricity, and guns,” Viden said.
“Of course, they discovered many of these things on their own merit with only minor assistance from us. Humans have great knowledge,” Kaval said.
“I’ve always liked to think so,” I said. “It must have taken a long time for us to come this far.”
“What are you getting at, dear human?” Viden asked.
“It would be a shame if all that hard earned progress was wiped out in a few months,” I said. “I know–”
“About the coming apocalypse of the elder gods?” Kaval finished for me. “We had a feeling you might say that.”
“Then why did you ask me?” I asked.
“We like to give you the chance to answer, even if the answer is clear,” Viden said, a trace of amusement in her girlish voice.
“So, tell me, has Itazura been watching you this entire time?” Kaval asked.
My shoulders slumped. Of course they knew. They just knew everything before it ever happened.
“The question is,” Itazura called from the top level of the library. “How long were you watching us?” He vaulted down from the railing, landing gracefully beside me.
“Quite a while. Since you two reached the scrolls actually,” Viden said. “You forget how keen our sight is.”
“No, I didn’t forget. I just didn’t want to discourage the human,” Itazura said. I shot him a glare and he held up his hands defensively. “You asked for this.”
“We had a feeling you would try to go behind Mother and Father on this,” Viden said.
“But this is an interesting method,” Kaval said.
“Interesting that you would let the human come to us.”
“Especially when you knew what would happen.”
“Hear her out.” Itazura sighed. “Even if you won’t listen to me. I know neither of your respect me at all. At least give her a chance before passing judgment.”
“We have not judged yet,” Viden said, turning her gaze back on me. “Continue your argument.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. “The apocalypse will wipe all the humans out if it is allowed to continue. I’ve already seen what the wendigoes and shape shifters can do. Those are bad enough. But I know worse things are to come.”
I took a deep breath. “Maybe you think everything can be redone and humans can simply be remade. But if that happens, we will only go through the same process again. The same process of trying and failing and eventually learning but it will take years and years. It will be repetitive, and I doubt there will be much to lear
n from humans if all you’re doing is watching them go through the same cycle again.”
I shrugged. “It will be boring. Pointless. Maybe you don’t mind that either. But you said there is no wisdom in arrogance. I don’t think there’s wisdom in this deception either. Please. Try to understand my point of view. The human race isn’t done yet. We have a lot to learn even though sometimes we seem like complete idiots. Please consider helping us.” I exhaled and stared down at the dusty scrolls that made no sense to me. “And if you won’t, please don’t tell the other gods.”
“Didn’t you just say there was no wisdom in deception?” Kaval raised an eyebrow.
I flushed. “I guess I did.”
“Hmm,” Viden and Kaval looked at each other. I held my breath as I waited for their answer.
“Telling the humans will complicate things on our end,” Viden said.
“And the more complicated this becomes, the more difficult it will be to repress the elder gods,” Kaval said.
“We cannot give them a chance to seize power.”
“Their dominion will end this world.”
“But in the end, humans won’t be able to stop you from making whatever decisions you make. We might try to influence you but we’re not going to be able to stop you from taking the action you choose,” I said.
The twins gazed at me with such intelligent eyes and I braced myself for the worst, sure they would solemnly shake their heads and strike me down with their powers of wisdom.
But at last Viden nodded. “There is wisdom in your statement.”
“And you are more competent than our younger brother,” Kaval said, glancing at Itazura. He scoffed, and bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“Perhaps a different perspective on this situation may be called for.” They decided in unison. They looked to each other one last time and then nodded. “We will spread the word to the upper class and take whatever blame we must from Mother and Father. They usually are in agreement with us anyhow.”
My eyes widened and Itazura’s jaw dropped.
“You’re serious?” he asked.
Viden cast him an amused glance. “Brother, if you didn’t think we would say yes, then why did you allow the human to come?”
“Because she’s damn stubborn, that’s why,” Itazura said.
“Stubborn, yes,” Kaval said. “But she has some wisdom of her own. As every human does, I’m sure.”
“It would be a shame to let all that knowledge go to waste.” Viden nodded. With these words, she rose gracefully from her seat. “There is work to be done.”
“Much work,” Kaval agreed. “We must prepare.”
“We will allow you to show yourselves out, if you do not think it rude of us,” Viden said.
“Not at all,” I said quickly. I bowed my head. For the first time, I felt truly reverent toward a god. “Thank you. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You are welcome,” the twins said in unison. Then they turned and glided from the room.
It took all of my will power not to turn toward Itazura with a childish face and say, “I told you so!”
’ll admit it,” Itazura said as we walked back through the halls of the library. “You’re a genius.”
“I’m sorry. Can you say that a little louder?” I asked, holding up a hand to my ear.
Itazura rolled his eyes, “Don’t get so cocky.”
“This coming from you? That’s a bit hypocritical,” I said.
Itazura shrugged. “Can’t argue there.” He spun around to face me though he continued to walk backward. “I especially enjoyed the bit with Viden and Kaval’s pupil.”
“I really didn’t think he was acting.” I flushed.
“He played a stellar stuck-up asshole. Nearly as good as Amontillado himself. Except Amontillado isn’t acting. I wish he was though.” Itazura shrugged. “Of course, you should have known Viden and Kaval would never take on someone as pompous as that for their personal pupil.”
“I guess,” I said. “But I did all right, didn’t I?”
“You did, you did. I’ll admit it. Though I still think you were out of your mind.” Itazura turned on his heels again and continued forward.
“I told you to trust me, didn’t I?” I asked.
“Yes, you did.” Itazura chuckled. He took a few more steps forward before he suddenly stopped in his tracks.
“What is it?” I asked. “Something wrong?”
“No, nothing.” Itazura turned and looked at me oddly as if he wanted to say something more. I waited, eyebrows raised but he didn’t speak. He just . . . stared.
“Hello?” I asked.
“Janet,” Itazura said, speaking slowly and cautiously as if he worried he might offend me. “Can you promise me something?”
“What?” I asked.
“Promise me you won’t hit me for thirty seconds.”
“What?” My eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”
“Just . . . trust me,” Itazura said.
“No words from your mouth inspire a lot of trust in me,” I said.
“True, but I’ve said I’m trying not to deceive you.”
“The operative word being ‘trying’.”
Itazura rolled his eyes. “Just promise me, my little human. I let you come here. Don’t you owe me? Besides, when the thirty seconds are up, you can hit me as much as you want.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really now?”
“Try. You can try to hit me as much as you want.”
“This seems like another questionable business deal to me,” I said. “But fine.”
“Fine what?” Itazura asked.
“I promise I won’t hit you for the next thirty seconds,” I said. “Are you hap–”
I didn’t get any further. No sooner had the promise left my mouth than Itazura surged forward, captured my chin in his hand, and pressed his lips to mine.
And this, children, is why you should never trust the God of Mischief.
My mind went fuzzy and every nerve in my body just shut down. My steel fingers twitched, but I forgot how to properly form a fist. A million thoughts rushed through my head at once, and all of them questions. Questions of “what?” Questions of “why?” Questions of “how hard should I punch him when the thirty seconds are up?”
Questions of “why wasn’t I pulling away?” Why was I doing the complete opposite of that?
Kissing him back.
I couldn’t help it. Some Beast of the Abyss had probably possessed me and taken control of my body. But Itazura’s lips were surprisingly soft and his touch tender as he drew closer, cupping my face in his hands. My back pressed back against one of the shelves, and a few scrolls dug into my lower back. I gripped the collar of his shirt to steady myself, inadvertently pulling him closer. I didn’t want the kiss to stop. In my confused haze, didn’t want this moment to end.
Gods, what was wrong with me?
After what seemed like much longer than just thirty short seconds, Itazura broke the kiss, though his hands continued to cradle my face. I stared at him in absolute shock for what seemed like an eternity. My jaw hung ajar. My hands shook. And the questions in my mind melted into a barrage of words and emotions. Shock into happiness, happiness into confusion and confusion into anger as I realized what in the Abyss had just happened.
“What in Axira’s name, Itazura!” I snapped, drawing back my left fist. His thirty seconds were so up.
“You’re quite red, aren’t you, little thief?” Itazura jumped backward, grinning from ear to ear.
At these words, I flushed an even darker hue. “I’m going to kill you.”
“Kill me? That seems a bit harsh,” Itazura said, his green eyes glimmering. “I mean, you kissed me back.”
“I did not,” I muttered. Lie.
“Oh, you did,” Itazura said, leaning forward to my eye level. “Did you actually like that?”
“You’re digging your own grave, bastard.” I tried to punch him again but he danced out o
f my way.
“Gods don’t have graves, Janet.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” I lunged again but he caught my wrists before I could wrap my hands around his damn throat.
“Relax,” he said, looking down at me. “There’s no need to get your gears in a jam.”
“When you kiss me just to mess with me?” I glared up at him. “Yes it is.”
Itazura looked surprised. “I didn’t kiss you just to mess with you, little human.”
“Then why did you do it?” I asked, still trying to pry myself from his grasp.
Itazura rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on my wrists. “Because I like you. Is that so hard to believe?”
I stared at him, my face heating all over again. I turned my eyes to the ground.
“I . . . uh. . . .”
“Is Janet, the master of sarcasm, at a loss for clever retorts?” Itazura asked.
“I’m just not–I mean no one usually–I–” I shook my head. “Why?”
“I just do. Maybe because you’re feisty, maybe because you’re too bold for your own good or maybe it’s just because you’re interesting. Honestly, I didn’t think I need a reason for this kind of thing. I usually don’t bother trying to come up with reasons why I do things” Itazura said.
I still didn’t look at him and he sighed, “You don’t believe me do you?”
“I don’t know,” I murmured, my voice abnormally quiet. “I just . . . I don’t want to be used.”
Itazura released one of my wrists—my flesh one, because I don’t think he trusted me with my steel one quite yet—and slipped a hand under my chin, tilting my head up. “I’m not using you, Janet.” He paused, as if thinking. “Well, okay, I am. But to stop the apocalypse, and that is completely separate from this.”
“Is it?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Itazura said. “I’m not Meroquio. I don’t go through human lovers daily.”
“I don’t think you’re Meroquio. But–”
“I’m not the men who visit your mother, either,” Itazura said.
I fell silent.
Because in the end maybe I was worried about that. Being used. Being abandoned. After all, Itazura was a god. He could do whatever he wanted and I didn’t have any say in it.
“I’m not using you. I promise. And I’m not asking for anything either. It was a kiss. No need to read too much into it.”
Hour of Mischief Page 18