by Brey Willows
Kera could almost hear her mom talking to Ajan. “Why didn’t she tell me any of this?”
“She knew how you felt about religion and destiny. She knew you were far too stubborn to hear what you needed to hear.” He wiped a bit of moisture from his eyes. “But she said she knew she wasn’t going to be around long enough to see you through. So she asked me to, because she knew I loved you like my own, and I didn’t have any reason to stay there.”
She’d known she was going to die. That wasn’t hugely surprising. Her mother had always seemed to have a sixth sense about things, which Kera put down to her work as a priestess. She tried to push the overwhelming sadness away. “So, what does this have to do with Petra?”
He dropped his hands from behind his head and stood up. “How many of the people who work for you do you really know? Other than me. I’ve gone out with them, had drinks, met some of their families. Petra and I have spent plenty of time together over the years, and let me tell you, that’s one damn good woman. I’d trust her to be your…me.” He smiled and the tension eased. “Think about it, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I will. I don’t suppose you know if she’s got any more news on Degrovesnik?”
He sighed. “Not that I know of. And that’s another thing. I don’t think I want to be around when you go down that road, girlie. It damn near broke me when…well, what happened before. I don’t want to see what happens next. That time is gone, and you should leave it alone. I told your mama I’d watch after you, and I’ve done my best. But if you’re determined to see this fool thing through, I’ll be there when it’s over. But I can’t watch you do it.”
She slammed her hands on the desk. “How can you say that? Knowing what you know? Knowing what he did?”
He didn’t back down in the face of her anger like most people did. Instead, he faced her squarely. “Because I do know, and I don’t want you becoming like him!”
She flinched like he’d hit her. “I’d never…Is that what you think?”
He turned away and opened the door. “I don’t know what to think when it comes to him and you. And I hope when it comes down, I’m wrong.”
He left, quietly closing the door behind him, and she slumped back into her chair. Ajan told her the truth, always, whether she wanted to hear it or not. It was part of what made him so valuable, both as a friend and as her most trusted employee. Playing over pieces of their conversation, she quickly felt like the walls were closing in. She grabbed her keys and left.
She considered calling Tis, but decided she needed to be alone for a while. But that’s what I always decide when it gets tough, isn’t it? I wish you’d tried talking sense into me when you could, Mom.
* * *
Tis landed in the courtyard of Afterlife, figuring it would be better if she didn’t go through the office. She hadn’t been called to deal with anything in several days, and she knew it must be coming any moment. With massive decisions like the one taken in Palestine-Israel, there were bound to be more questions and issues that needed clarification and consensus.
Just as she was nearly to Meg’s house, Hermes landed in front of her, his lovely winged sandals setting him down gently. She smiled at him but sighed inwardly. So close.
“Hey, Tis! So great to see you, really, really great. Sorry to bother you, truly, but Zed saw you come in, and he’d really love a word with you, if you have just a second for him?”
She’d always found Hermes’s way of tiptoeing around a message awkward. He never wanted to cause offense, and he took the idiom “don’t shoot the messenger” to heart. But for all that he hated confrontation, he was a sweet god.
“Sure, no problem. Tell him I’ll be right there.”
“Of course, absolutely, happy to. I’ll go right now. Shall I tell him a time you’ll be there? You know how he is about specifics!”
“Give me ten minutes.” If Meg was home, she wanted a quick word before she got sucked into the office politics.
“That’s perfect, really great, thanks so much, I’ll let him know!” His little winged sandals flapped, and he headed off to the office, propelled by his heels.
She knocked on Meg’s door, but there was no answer. She turned back toward the office and briefly wondered if she could get away with flying out, saying she forgot…He’d just find me anyway. She trudged to the office, wishing she could be out at a job, or better yet, somewhere with Kera. When she got to Zed’s office, she stopped in surprise outside. The room was full, but not like usual.
She went in, trying to prepare herself.
Zed stood and gave her a hug, a rarity in itself. When he whispered in her ear, “tread gently,” she understood.
Hades, Zed’s brother and once her long time employer, kissed her cheek. As always, he was cold, distant. His eyes were black, but there were light specks moving in them all the time; the souls constantly moving in his realm, always under his watch. “You’re looking well, avenger. You haven’t been to dinner in too long.”
She kissed his cheek in return. “The constant noise gives me a headache, and too many of the people I’ve dealt with bug me while we’re eating. Maybe you should come to my place some time?”
He looked slightly surprised. “I’d like that, winged one. Let me know when.”
Azrael, mostly known as Satan, leaned across the table and shook her hand. “Tisera. Wonderful to see you again. It’s been centuries.” He leaned back, his perfect white teeth, golden hair, and tight black T-shirt over his well-defined body making him look distinctly god-like.
“Nice to see you too, Az. You’re looking great.”
“Thanks. I’m feeling great. Nothing like bringing things out into the open to light up the underworld.”
Yama, with his blue skin and bushy beard, sat next to Osiris, with his green skin and slim, pointed beard. They made Tis think of different depths of the ocean in sunlight. Both smiled and welcomed her. She’d had some contact with both over the years, but not enough to get to know them well.
Iblis, Azrael’s Islamic counterpart, gave her a distant nod. She and her sisters had plenty of work in Islamic countries where life, particularly for women, was deeply undervalued. Needless to say, they weren’t well liked.
Suddenly, she was crushed in a hug that lifted her from the floor. “Beautiful terror! I’d forgotten how your beauty makes the stars and moon seem like nothing more than reindeer shit.”
She would have laughed if she could breathe. When she was finally back on her feet, she grinned at Freya, goddess of the Norse underworld. “And you’re looking spectacularly well, too, old friend.”
Freya puffed up with pride, her blond braids long and healthy, her warrior’s metal corset shiny. Her usual companion, a gargantuan tiger of some kind, lay snoring against the wall. Tis and Freya had enjoyed a few decades of companionship, before deciding it was time for them to move on.
“I was close to fading, you know. Barely a shadow moving among the fields of ice. But when the gods came out, there was a revival of interest in the ancient religion, and suddenly the halls of Valhalla and the fields of Folkvangr are ringing with life again!” Her voice boomed off the glass walls.
Zed cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get on with this.” Everyone sat down, and he looked at Tis. “As you know, there’s been some question as to the nature of the underworld and how those leaders will play in the changes.”
Tis nodded and looked at Satan. “Like the issue with the young people recently.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I swear, that wasn’t me. I don’t know who they’re praying to, or who they think is talking to them, but it’s not me.” He pointed at Hades. “You sure it wasn’t you, old-timer?”
Hades grimaced. “They used your name, not mine. If it were me, I assure you, they’d know who it was.”
Zed tapped the table. “It’s entirely possible a human is behind it, brainwashing believers into thinking it’s one of you. It wouldn’t be the first time.” He turned back to Ti
s. “That’s part of why we’re here. We need a constitution, a plan of some sort, similar to the one we’ve devised for the high…other, council.” A few of the beings at the table stiffened slightly at Zed’s slip. It wasn’t good to remind gods they didn’t have a place at the decision-making table. “There need to be rules in place to correspond with the other rules, so we can all do our jobs without chaos.”
“What is life without chaos?” Osiris motioned with his large wooden staff. “If you take away chaos, if you take away death, what do you have left? Lotus eaters, rotting away on a beach, existing for nothing.”
Zed’s face turned red, and Tis wondered how many times they’d had this conversation. She thought about the conversations she had with Buddha and Lao-Tse about balance and thought Osiris might have a point.
“Okay. So, I need to show you the rules already set in place, and we need to develop a coda to run alongside it.”
Iblis frowned and sat stiffly upright. “I won’t be dictated to by a woman. Especially not one who constantly enters my territory and delivers justice she has no right to demand.”
Irritated, Tis stood and let her full form show, her snakes coming alive and her fangs extending. She leapt on the table and stalked on all fours to face him. She moved into his personal space and saw the fear in his eyes. “I am far more than a woman, and I suggest you don’t pull your sexist gendered shit with me. I do my job anywhere I need to, when I need to, no matter who is ruling. If you refuse to get your people in line, that’s not my problem. Insult me again, and god or not, I will take your mind and melt it into the kind of horrors you haven’t even thought of yet.”
He gave her a sharp nod and looked away, his throat working as though trying to keep from screaming.
She turned away from him and went back to her daily form as she walked back down the table to her chair.
Satan started laughing, and he was quickly joined by the others. Iblis didn’t look amused.
“Holy hells, Tis. I’d forgotten how fucking amazing you are.” Azrael wiped tears of laughter away. “And you know, I think you’d do it, too.”
“You know I would. Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?”
Zed slid the file in front of her, and he looked decidedly less stressed than when she’d walked in. “I’m so damn glad I chose you for this position.”
“That makes one of us.” She opened the file and turned toward the others. “Now. The other gods have declared a no violence edict. There’s to be no suicide bombings, no murder in the name of religion, no human-on-human violence at all. Period. Obviously, declaring that isn’t going to make it happen, it just might make it happen less.”
“I’ve had an eighty percent decrease in new souls in the past six months.” Azrael looked around the table. “You?”
The others nodded, all looking disgruntled.
“I’m sure that’s true. Obviously, my sisters and I are seeing less work, as are the Praxidice. People aren’t quick to break oaths right now, either. However, we know how humans work. Granted, there’s never been this kind of religious transparency, and we can’t be totally certain how it will turn out. But I’m willing to bet they’ll find other reasons to fight, other reasons to war. It’s in their nature.”
Yama leaned forward. “The question is, are we allowed to instigate these other reasons?”
Tis looked at Zed, who shrugged. She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. “Let’s figure this out. As far as I’m aware, you’ve always been the instigators of difficulty, correct?” They all nodded, looking slightly brighter. “The other gods have dictated no violence in their names and have told people to love one another.”
Freya scoffed. “As our sky colored friend there says, Lotus eaters.”
“But if we talk about balance, the kind needed to keep the planet in check and to keep population under control to some degree, then it can’t always be that way.” She looked at them, taking in their individual personalities. “My suggestion is this: be transparent. Be just as visible as the other gods. But you have to have some boundaries too. You can’t instruct people to murder. But if they do, then they should know they’re coming your way.” She looked at Azrael. “For a long time, you were God’s right hand, and you opposed him on a lot of things. You thought humans should think for themselves, that they should question directives that didn’t make sense. Well, maybe that’s where you come in now. By getting people to question their gods, you may end up getting followers of your own. In fact, I think that’s key.” She nodded, knowing she was on the right track. “You want followers. Your followers don’t necessarily need to cause problems or chaos, not if you’re out there talking to them. Decide what each of you can offer them—that’s what the other gods are doing. What can you give followers that the others can’t? Why should they come to you and start building your altars? If all you’re offering is a brimstone and fire afterlife, with nothing but pain and anguish for eternity, you’re not going to have a lot of people flocking to you.”
“You’re saying we rebrand ourselves.” Osiris looked at her speculatively.
“Yeah, I suppose I am. I mean, Freya already kind of has it going.”
Freya looked surprised, then thought about it. “Because it’s not all about death and rotting. It’s about glory and honor.”
“Exactly.” Tis looked at Zed, who was clearly thinking about what she was suggesting. “Now is your chance to be more, to clean up your places of business and not only expand, but make it different. Sure, you’re still going to need your punishment aspects, that’s how you balance out your religions and keep people in line—fear of coming to you. But that same fear means you won’t get the followers you want. So, design a new system. And not one based on false promises, either.” She pointed at Azrael and Iblis. “If you want it, make it real. Do the work. I’ve heard Jesus is running a few marketing workshops in the evenings, for those interested. Maybe you should consider attending.”
The room was silent for a few minutes as what she said sank in. Yama pulled over a pad of paper. “Shall we get started on a basic set of guidelines we all agree on, and then go away and consider our individual marketing strategies?” He looked at Tis and smiled. “Thank you, most terrifying advisor. I believe you have given us a fresh start in a rather confusing time.”
Freya pounded on the table, briefly waking her tiger, who looked up and then went back to snoring. “You’ve always been the most incredible woman ever born—land, air, or sea. Let’s have sex again soon!”
Tis laughed. “Perhaps. But I think your concern should be more focused than that right now.”
Zed stood up and motioned Tis to go with him. “When they’ve got a good list going and it comes time to make it official, I’ll give you a call.”
They walked out into the hall, closing the door on the already busy conversation behind them. “Zed, what are you going to do about this person masquerading as Satan?”
“I’ve got the research team on it. They’re checking all social media sites, email, and phones for all the kids involved. We’ll see if any base communication was made, although none has shown up yet. If not, we’ll find another way to check. I don’t like that the soul was taken before one of the death crew could get to it.” He held Tis’s shoulder in one of his massive hands. “Thank you for doing this. I can’t tell you how much we need your level head. I never would’ve thought about the rebranding thing. Hopefully, they’ll be so busy remaking their domains they won’t have a lot of time to create problems elsewhere for a while.”
“I won’t say it’s my pleasure, but I have to admit, I’m kind of enjoying it. In a twisted, masochistic way.”
“Good. Everything else okay?”
“I think so, although I’m a little worried about the tension and the way the humans are going to handle this in the long run.”
He waved dismissively. “They’re humans, Tisera. You know as well as I do—show them some power, make them understand how lucky they are to pray to
us, and they’ll fall in line.”
He sounded just like he had when Greece felt like the only place in the world, and there was no one to oppose them. But that world was long gone, and she wondered if he really understood the one he was playing in now.
“Okay, well, I guess we’ll see how it goes.” She gave him a weak smile, and he nodded before heading back into the room to listen.
Tis stood there for a moment, at a loss as to what to do next. Her sisters weren’t around, she hadn’t gotten a call about a job, and she was done with her duties at the office. She pulled out her phone. Should she call Kera? She wasn’t sure, even though they’d made up, if she was ready to see Kera after an afternoon of discussing the ways the gods of the underworld would woo their human followers.
She hit number three on her speed dial. “Aulis? Are you free? I feel like drinking wine and eating ice cream.”
Chapter Fourteen
Kera sat across from Petra, really looking at her, trying to see the heat wave she saw with the other nonhuman kind. But it wasn’t there.
“Do you want to tell me why you’re looking at me like I’m something in a zoo?”
Kera frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me you were one of them?”
“Why would I? I’m not one of them now, and it doesn’t have any effect on my job performance.”
“No. I could see how the whole immortal thing wouldn’t affect your job. What the hell?” Kera flipped her pencil across the room, to join others sent there throughout the day. She’d been out of sorts since her conversation with Ajan, and the city was still being ridiculous about not giving her the building permits she needed. She hadn’t heard from Tis, and with all the stress she was under, she decided Tis should be the one to call her. After all, she’d made the first move by apologizing, so now it was up to Tis to make the next move. They were supposed to be leaving for Haiti the following week, and Kera was beginning to regret inviting her. Like I don’t have enough going on. This is exactly why I don’t see women more than once or twice.