by Brey Willows
“We can. We will, if humans are being used as shields or pawns.” She shrugged and took another sip of her beer, still with her eyes closed. “But it takes a lot of energy. It’s not easy to kill one, and there might be a lot more than that up against us. Gods fighting gods can damage one another, though. Enough to make them slink away to heal. But given that we’re the only ones who can kill a god, it makes a lot of sense for those same gods to make sure we can’t do what we do.” Tears started slow trails down Meg’s cheeks. “I’m scared. Not for me, necessarily, but for my sisters. For the gods I love.”
The thought of the serious harm that could come to her colleagues hadn’t occurred to Dani, and now that it was spoken, it was real. And terrifying. “I’ll be right beside you, okay?”
Meg pulled her feet from Dani’s lap and crawled into her lap. “And I’ll be right beside you. But right now, I’d rather be under you.”
She leaned in for a kiss, and as the passion ignited between them again, Dani stood and carried Meg to the bedroom. If tonight could be their last night together, she wanted it to be full of the years they’d lost.
Chapter Twenty
The cacophony of noise made Meg’s feathers tingle and her snakes restless. She looked out over the panorama of gods in the meeting hall, and it reminded her of old times, when they all worked out of the same building and had plenty of time for sex and lounging around. Today, even those who had been among their followers had been called back to the office. Normally, it was Tis or Alec on this stage, but it was Meg’s turn, and as much as she loved being the center of attention, the importance of what she was doing made her chest ache a little. She smiled when Selene walked onto the stage, and the room began to quiet.
Selene pushed her glasses up on her nose and gave Meg a quick hug. “I’m not entirely sure what we’re doing, but I’ll follow your lead.”
“Thanks for trusting me.” Meg turned to the group of gods assembled in front of her, their skins such an array of color they looked like a huge box of multishaped crayons. “Hey, everyone. Thanks for coming. We know how busy you are, but we’ve got some really important information we needed to get to everyone at once. We won’t keep you here long.”
“Take as long as you want, red wings. I could use the rest!” shouted a god whose black skin was laced with red cracks.
“Who’s that?” Selene whispered.
“Kagu. He’s the old Shinto god of volcanoes, and he’s coming back into existence thanks to the rumbling volcanoes in Japan,” Meg whispered back as the other gods laughed along with Kagu. “In a way, that’s kind of why we’re here, magma breath.” Meg winked at him and steam rose from his skin as he grinned back at her. “We know you guys are out there working hard. We know you’re helping your followers, and you’ve been thinking of new ways to write your sacred laws and texts. Thanks to you, wars and murders are way down. Humans are behaving better than they have any time in history. You should totally pat yourselves on the backs, if you have one.”
The group broke into applause and shouts of agreement. Meg knew full well gods loved having their egos stroked. She waited until they quieted again.
“That said, there’s always more work to do. As you know, there’s been a problem with Dis, or Chaos, as some of you know her—” She nodded and held up her hands to acknowledge the hiss of dissension that filled the room. “I know. She’s messing with both humans and gods, and we have to find a way to fight back. We don’t have the luxury of waiting to see what happens, because humans don’t have the kind of time we do.” She was glad to see they were paying attention. She focused on that feeling she got when she knew she was on the right track and let it flow through her like cool water.
“We’ve got two things to talk about. One is your rebranding, and the other is your focus.” She turned to Selene. “Would you mind saying a little something about the importance of people understanding the rules of their religions?”
Selene looked surprised, and she bit her lip, a sign she was concentrating. “Sure.” She stepped forward and addressed the group. “As many of you who’ve been on my weekly show know, I’m interested in the philosophy of religion. That is to say, the examination of the need for humans to believe and the ways in which they connect on both a sociological and personal level with their spiritual belief systems. Religion is a set of defined parameters which a believer chooses to follow based on their own ideological and often geographical circumstances…”
Meg let Selene continue and watched as the gods began to shuffle and yawn. She even saw a few take out their phones and start tapping away. She gently tapped Selene on the shoulder. “Thank you, babe. I think you’ve made my point.”
Selene shrugged and stepped back, looking curious.
“Hey! Put your phone away and pay attention, trunk face.” She pointed at Ganesh, who had the sense to look as abashed as an elephant could as he slipped his phone back in his shirt pocket. “You know those hefty books you wrote a long time ago, full of stories about things happening to people who didn’t do what they were supposed to? Full of rules that contradicted themselves because the humans who wrote them down were coming at it from different angles?” She made sure to make eye contact as she looked around the room. “That’s kind of what Selene does. She uses big long words, and although she’s always totally, completely, right, you start to zone out because she’s not talking like the rest of us plebes.”
Laughter greeted her statement, and she gave Selene an apologetic smile. “Sorry, beautiful.”
Selene shook her head and smiled. “Not a problem. Nice way to illustrate.”
“Thanks. I’m good like that.” She turned back to her audience. “It’s time to get shit done, folks. You need to write your new rules and regs in plain language. Today’s language. Write it down exactly the way you’d tell me or your coworker what you’re up to. And seriously, tell them why. No one likes to be told to do things just because Mom said so.”
She uncovered a large white board on the corner of the stage that listed three bullet points. “Rebranding means simplifying. No more vague, ominous stories. Sure, keep your origin stories. Everyone likes a good origin story. But when it comes to today, keep it simple. Let them know all the fabulous things that come with following you, and let them know the less-than fabulous stuff too. You want them to follow you, you want them to believe in you. That means you lay it out in ways they can understand every word. And don’t hire a batch of humans to do your work for you. That’s how things get messy, and we’re trying to keep messy at bay. Sit down with someone you trust from your department, and get these things written down. Spell out what folks should and shouldn’t do, what you want from them in the way of prayer, and what they can expect in the afterlife.”
Selene looked contemplative next to her, and Meg could tell she wanted to say something. She raised her eyebrows to see if she wanted to say it now or later, and Selene shook her head slightly. Later, then. Selene was one of the smartest people she knew, and as a demigod and the bridge between the humans and the gods, she had an understanding of the way humans ticked that Meg never fully grasped. I hope she doesn’t think I’ve put my foot in it.
“That’s the first thing. Your rebranding needs to be simple and direct, and your new texts need to be drafted this week. Seriously, there’s no give on this. Sit your gorgeous godly asses down and get this done before Dis can make things a heap of shit worse.”
She could see that although some of the gods looked stressed or disturbed, most seemed to accept her proposal as doable. “The next thing is something I’d like you to think about but not something that’s required.” She concentrated on the intuitive flow and took strength in its sureness. “There are two major things humans are facing on this planet. One of them is war. They’ve been doing that since they started walking upright, and it probably won’t change. But the thing is, since you’ve been at their sides, they’ve actually fought a lot less. One suggestion is to make a part of your new texts an initiat
ive on peace. Put in a few simple, clear rules about not making war on other people or places, for any reason. I think we’ve got a real opportunity to give humans a chance at living peacefully for a while.”
Kali’s necklace of human heads shook as she yelled from the back of the room. “And what does that mean for the war gods, fury? Would you have us fade into the void or go work as accountants?” Her red eyes flashed with fury.
Meg felt her snakes bristle, but she kept them down. “Of course not. But how many of the war gods are solely gods of war? I mean, you’re also a mother of creation and time, right? Play on those instead. If people want war, they’re going to go to war. And you’ll still be there to deal with them. But don’t instigate it and do what you can to prevent it.” She waited for more comments, but none came, so she moved on, feeling a little less certain and not liking the feeling at all. “The second issue is the environment. As you know, humans eradicate between two thousand and ten thousand species per year. They’ve begun drilling into the earth’s core in order to provide the shit they use to run machinery.” She motioned at Kagu, who watched her intently. “They’re destabilizing the earth to a degree they’re even waking the volcanoes.” Kagu nodded, and she could see him sigh. “They’re headed toward a path of extinction themselves. And if they die off, where do you think we’ll be?”
Total silence met her statement. Every god knew that a mass die-off of followers meant fading. But the concept of humans dying off altogether was a different matter.
“So my second suggestion is that you put something about behaving responsibly toward the earth into your new texts, in order to get the humans on a path that doesn’t lead to their extinction. And those followers who choose greed and destruction over the planet they live on can be guaranteed a place in the afterlife they don’t want.”
The flow she tapped into started to wane, and Meg wanted nothing more than to sink into a hot bath with a glass of wine and Dani on top of her.
“To sum up. Get your asses writing, and make things super simple. If you can, add in something about the need for peace and something about the necessity of walking gently on this big blue ball in the sky. You’ve got until the end of the week to have your first drafts on Zed’s or Kera’s desks. Once those are done, I’ll come in and help you with your new brochures and marketing plans. Oh, and one more thing. We need to talk to the heads of the departments about the situation with Dis. Please head to Zed’s office after this for an update.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Off you go, you lovely creatures great and small. Have fun.”
The gods began to file out, and the mood in the room was somber, but not angry as she’d feared it might be. She turned to Selene and was gratified when she gave her a big hug.
“You did great. I think that’s exactly what they needed to hear.” Selene pulled back and studied Meg’s face. “Are you okay?”
Meg nodded and fluffed the stiffness out of her wings. “I’m glad it’s over. I’ve never been the one telling people what to do before. It’s exhausting. I don’t know how you do it all the time.”
Selene raised an eyebrow.
“Shit. Sorry. I don’t mean you’re bossy or anything. I just know you have to tell gods what to do and how to do it when they come on your show, and I know you help Tis with the legal stuff—”
Selene laughed and put her finger over Meg’s mouth. “I know what you meant. Don’t worry about it.” She hooked her arm through Meg’s and led her from the stage and out the side door. “I think it’s time for a drink. Tis and Zed can handle the meeting with the department heads to tell them they’ll be needed in Rome.”
Meg relaxed as they headed across campus to her place. Selene was clearly lost in thought, and Meg was glad to let her stay there. She was done talking. Sex, alcohol, and food were necessary, and not in that particular order. She thought of the numerous of religious departments sitting down to write out their new texts, and how she’d be the one to help them get those new texts to their followers. It was daunting to think they’d be depending on her, but when she thought of Dis and the dark dread she felt at the thought of going to Rome, she knew she would do whatever it took to keep the humans safe. Who knew I had such a soft spot for them?
Chapter Twenty-one
“So we’re going to do it?”
Dani could feel Idona humming with excitement, a feeling she was beginning to share. “Yeah. Let’s start putting things in place. How’s Nexus going?”
Idona stretched and put her feet on the coffee table. “Good. The library is up, we’ve put in a coffeehouse, and the open-air theater will be ready by next week.”
Dani tossed her a beer. “I’ve hardly been away. How’d you get all that done?”
“I brought in some builders from Azrael’s remodel. They’re really enjoying the extra work, and not a lot of folks get to see the Deadlands, so it was an opportunity to check us out.” She shrugged and took a long drink of her beer.
“I get the library and coffee shop. What’s with the cinema?”
Idona grinned. “Informational viewing. Folks who learn better visually than by reading will be able to see the marketing videos produced by the other religions. It could help them make an informed decision.”
Dani laughed and stretched out next to Idona on the couch. “When did you get a teaching degree?”
“Hey, I have hobbies too, you know.” Idona laughed and nudged her with her shoulder. “Want to see?”
“Your hobbies? I’ve known you long enough to know your hobbies often include strap-ons and no clothes. I’ll pass for today, thanks.” The thought of sex made her think of Meg, and thinking of Meg made her wish she was with her.
“Idiot. Not my hobbies, although you’re missing out when it comes to the twins. I meant the changes at Nexus.”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
Dani led the way outside and opened the road into the new sector. They strolled along, drinking their beer, and Dani took in the changes. Houses were going up in orderly rows, and when she saw the name of the café she laughed. “Wake the Dead?”
“I thought it was catchy. But we can change it if you don’t like it.”
Dani didn’t miss the hint of vulnerability in Idona’s voice, even though she tried to look like she wasn’t bothered. “It’s great.”
They went past the library to the amphitheater and sat on one of the high stone rows.
“Onyx?” Dani loved the way the long black rows looked as they climbed above the staging area below.
“Obsidian. Easier to get in sheets.”
They sat silently drinking their beer before Dani said, “Are we doing the right thing?”
Idona nodded without hesitation. “We are. The world is different now that the gods are out there. People know their afterlives exist, and it makes death a different journey. Now we can have a say in how people view that journey.” She tapped her bottle to Dani’s. “I think it’s fucking awesome.”
Dani smiled but kept pondering out loud. “I can’t get rid of the idea that death makes humans more aware of how precious life is. General bad behavior resulting in deaths has reduced massively, which is great. But there are still bad people out there. Human behavior isn’t always regulated by religious belief. Does that mean we’ll be overwhelmed with people who don’t believe but don’t belong anywhere? Should we allow the bad people to mix with the good people?”
They drank while Dani waited for Idona to answer.
“No. We have a separate place for the bad eggs, one where various gods will have to take some responsibility. Make it a cooperative of Limbo, where the bad ones don’t get the cinema or amazing coffee. Just books and books, so all they can do is read about what shitheads they are.”
“I’ll have to see if the other gods will go for it, but I like it.” Dani thought about what she’d learned in Hawaii. “Idona, I need to talk to you about this new stuff going on with me.”
“Finally. I was worried you’d wait another eon.”
Idona looked up from her beer, her expression guarded. “Are you retiring?”
Dani took a deep breath and dipped her head slightly. “Kind of. I don’t know. I think I’m asking if you’ll co-run the Deadlands with me. I’ll still be Death, technically, but you’ll begin running the day-to-day stuff. I’ll dedicate time to my believers and to the marketing thing, and you can handle scheduling and the reports from the Sundo.” She stared at the amphitheater, feeling the weight of the coming changes in her old soul. “I don’t know how long the goddess thing will last. But if it dwindles, I’ll step down and finally retire. In fact, I take it back. We’ll get through the rebranding together, and then the Deadlands will be yours. I’ll continue on as a goddess for as long as that lasts, but you’ll officially be Death.”
Dani had expected Idona to be her usual exuberant self at the news, but instead, she looked almost in shock.
“Well, damn.” Idona picked at the label on her bottle. “I thought I couldn’t wait for the day you finally went to play golf in the old fogies home, but now that it’s here…” She swallowed hard. “Fuck.”
“Hey.” Dani bumped her shoulder. “I’m not leaving yet. The rebranding thing will take time, and I don’t think my followers are going to just disappear, especially once the real marketing campaign starts. I’m going to be around for a while yet. But I’d like you to start taking lead on stuff. I’ll be here to bug the crap out of you, I promise.”
Idona began to smile, and soon she was laughing. She jumped up and did a weird little jig. “Now I’m excited. You go have sex with your excessively hot and terrifying girlfriend and grant prayers to people who see you as a better option than gods they’ve worshipped for centuries. I’ll keep things running down here.”