by Brey Willows
Tis turned and hugged her tightly, suddenly overwhelmed by their love for one another. “Always.”
Chapter Two
Tis took a deep drink of merlot and sighed happily. Water lapped lazily beneath her feet as the tides of aqua alta, the Venetian term for high water, brought the lagoon surging into the city, right to the doors of the restaurants and shops. Still, people moved through it easily, walking on the bridges of trestle tables set up in the squares, or splashing through the water in rain boots. Cafés like this one, alongside the Grand Canal, kept their outdoor seating open, the tables on slightly raised platforms so the water wasn’t deep, and gave patrons blankets to wrap up in. Venice was too beautiful a city to stay indoors, even in the winter during high tide.
She looked up when her closest friend splashed through the water to their table, looking for all the world like a child playing in a puddle. She jumped up to give her a hug.
“Aulis. You look amazing, as always.”
Aulis, one of the Praxidice, or oath keepers, held Tis at arm’s length and studied her. “And you, my lovely terrifying friend, look tired.”
They sat down, and Aulis ordered a Bellini. The waiter nearly tripped over himself in his hurry to please her. Men and women often fell over themselves when Aulis was around. Her diminutive frame, together with her thick, long brown hair and stunning purple-blue eyes made an exotic, enticing package. Though she wasn’t Tis’s type and never had been, it was easy to see why so many others fell willingly into her bed.
Tis waited to speak until Aulis had taken a drink of her Bellini. It was a tradition for them—no one spoke of anything serious without first taking in a bit of alcohol.
“Beautiful. Now. Tell me why those lovely gray eyes of yours look more like hurricane skies than wispy summer clouds.”
Tis smiled wryly. “You make them sound elegant rather than drab.”
Aulis tilted her head slightly. “You’re the only one who has ever thought them drab, my love. Others see the beauty you don’t. Spill it.”
Tis stared at the dark, lapping waters of the Canal, and tried to put her thoughts in some kind of order. “Before the exodus, I didn’t know why we do what we do. I mean, we serve justice, but the humans just seem to find new, awful ways to hurt one another. For every one we punish, five more take their place. Do you know, in 2015 alone, nearly two hundred thousand people were killed in various wars? And those are just the ones reported. In America, nearly fifteen thousand were killed in gun related violence. How are we supposed to keep up with those numbers?” She finally looked at Aulis, who appeared to be listening intently. “And why do we want to? Why not let them kill one another off, if that’s what they’re so intent on?”
Aulis took a sip of her drink, looking at Tis thoughtfully over the top of her glass. “And now that the exodus is happening?”
Tis sighed. “I don’t know if it changes anything. Some of the really bad stuff has gone down, I think while the humans figure out what it means to their ways of life. But I’m worried it will get worse when they figure out that the gods have human-type limitations. And then? What does that say about us?”
“Heavy questions, my friend. In fact, those sound like questions of a pre-fader.” She looked at Tis searchingly, waving off the waiter headed their way. “Are they?”
Tis stayed silent for a long time. She didn’t want to acknowledge the truth of it. “I can’t let my sisters down,” she finally said.
“If you live for someone else, you’ll never be happy. Believe me, I know.”
Tis was reminded of Aulis’s last love affair, which had resulted in the inferior goddess she’d taken to her bed becoming a burnt shadow on a wall after she’d insulted one too many of the immortal kind.
“I know. But if I’m not a fury, what am I?”
“You. Tisera Graves. Bookworm, lover of bland food and rich wine. Cave and mountain dweller. Intelligent, sincere, kind—”
“Okay, okay. I didn’t come for an ego boost, though it doesn’t hurt.” Tis laughed, feeling a bit better. “I don’t know who I’d be if I didn’t have my job and my sisters. It’s all I’ve ever known.”
“Do you really think your sisters would turn their backs on you? I’ve known them almost as long as I’ve known you, and I seriously doubt it.”
Tis thought about it. “Alec would be disappointed, but she’d be okay with it, as long as I was happy. Meg…I don’t know. She’s not like Alec and me. She’s more…”
“Temperamental? Volatile? Moody? Unpredictable?”
Tis laughed and held up her hand to stop her. “Yes. All those things. I think she might take it personally if I quit.” It was the first time she’d ever mentioned that possibility out loud, and it made her feel slightly dizzy.
“Well, you have to do what’s right for you. At the end of the day, you can’t do anything but.” Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward. “You didn’t take an oath to do this job, did you? For eternity?”
Tis thought back to when she and her sisters had been born. They’d frolicked as children, testing their wings and their mother’s fortitude. Fortunately for them, Gaia had immeasurable patience and more love than anyone could ever know. She’d taught them what their roles would be when they were of an age. “No. No oaths. Our mother instructed us, but we never swore to it. We just…are.”
Aulis sat back with a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. Then there’s no reason for you to stay in a job you no longer want to do.”
“But you know what happens if I walk out. A pre-fader can’t just go back to Afterlife. There has to be a damn good reason to let someone back in once they’ve left the fold. What if I make the wrong choice?” A police boat went by, sirens blaring. The officers on board waved as they went past. That’s Venice. Always overtly friendly. She loved that about this special city. Nowhere else in the world was like it. She felt her tension begin to ease.
“Lady, you can’t tell me they wouldn’t let a fury back into the fold? Please.” She took Tis’s hand and said seriously, “I’m not going to say there isn’t a place for you at their table. The world will always need you and your sisters, as well as the others who do your line of work. But that’s the thing.” She let go of Tis’s hand and sat back with her drink. “The world will always need you, and there are lots of you doing the work. If you need to leave…” She shrugged. “We’re all replaceable.”
Tis thought about it as they silently sipped their drinks. Could that be true? Could someone replace her? The thought of someone taking her position with her sisters made her distinctly uncomfortable. And yet, the thought of being free, of not having to face the worst of humanity each and every day, ignited an excitement she hadn’t felt since her first serious girlfriend, several centuries ago.
She looked up when Aulis stood up abruptly. “Enough of this serious talk. Let’s go to every café in the city and see who has the best cake and wine.”
Tis laughed and stood. “We’ve done that. Several times.”
“Indeed we have, beautiful. But we haven’t done it yet this decade, and time changes even places like Venice.”
They headed down one of the narrow side alleys Venice was famous for. For the moment, Tis could let go of her worries, her doubts, even her inhibitions. She could pretend, for just a little while, that life was meant to be enjoyed. As Aulis took her hand and started to run through the flooded square, Tis thought that maybe, just maybe, there was truth to that idea.
* * *
Tis groaned and grasped her head in both hands. The pounding hangover made her want to fade. Her stomach rebelled at the scent of bacon and eggs. She staggered into the bathroom and splashed water on her face. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair was a tangled mess. She did her best to finger comb it, but it would take a shower and brush to tame it properly. She shuffled into Aulis’s kitchen, her wings dragging, and squinted against the sunlight coming through the lovely old windows. “How on earth are you not dying of alcohol poisoning?”
“I live here. I have a wonderful tolerance. You, my friend, have lived too long among the fruits and nuts of California. There was a time you could drink like Bacchus and fuck like Aphrodite. Now you eat granola and fall asleep cradling a book instead of a breast. Coffee?”
Tis nodded and gratefully accepted the mug. She sipped the potent brew and slowly felt like she could live again. “Thanks for the character update. When did I become so boring?” Her phone buzzed on the table, and she glanced at it.
“It didn’t happen on my watch. And your phone’s been doing that for hours,” Aulis said.
Tis sighed and read the numerous text messages. Several were from Zed, and a few were from Alec. The overall idea was that she was needed back home, urgently. She closed her eyes and felt the familiar sinking sensation of work calling. She opened her eyes when Aulis put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“It seems like your decision needs to come sooner rather than later. Listen to your heart, not your head.”
Tis hugged her tightly. She trusted few people and had fewer friends. Aulis’s friendship meant more to her than Aulis could imagine. “That’s never been my forte, but I’ll think about it. I promise.” She let her go and headed for a shower. “But now, duty calls.”
When she arrived back in LA, she was surprised to see Meg in the airport waiting for her. She threw her arms around her and hugged her with typical exuberance.
“I’m so glad you’re here. Did you have any idea you were going to be the next savior? I mean, not of the world, or anything, I don’t think, but of our sanity?”
Tis laughed, as always buoyed by Meg’s boundless energy. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you’ve never been sane. What’s going on?”
Meg tossed her flaming hair over her shoulder as they slid into her Z4 convertible. “I’ll let the big man explain. You know how much I hate details.” She pulled into LA traffic and glanced at Tis. “But if the hubbub is anything to go by, you’re in for a ride.”
Tis sighed, the sinking feeling from earlier deepening. What I wouldn’t give to be a librarian, or an accountant. Or…anything else.
Chapter Three
“Get down!” Kera flung herself over the woman and child as the building exploded around them. A large piece of concrete hit her back and knocked the wind from her. She held her breath to keep from inhaling the acrid smoke and dust. As soon as she could, she wiped the soot from her eyes and looked around. They’d managed to get most of the women and children out, but there had been a few stragglers, like the ones beneath her. She sat back on her heels, letting them up. Coughing, she pointed at the massive military style truck, and the mother quickly grabbed her child and began climbing over the rubble toward the vehicle. Kera watched them go, then began her own scramble over the debris, looking for any other survivors.
A soft sob caught her attention.
A small child, malnourished and already careworn, rested its head on a woman’s chest. Kera knew right away the woman was gone. She looked up when she heard the telltale thrum of a truck coming their way. She grabbed the child, who didn’t have the energy to fight but kept crying, and made her way to the waiting truck and the crew yelling for her to hurry. She quickly passed the child up to her chief’s waiting hands before climbing in behind them and reaching up to yank down the armored shutters.
Before she lowered them, she saw her.
It was the pale woman, the one she’d seen before at another bombing site. With enormous white wings and snakes for hair, she was probably terrifying to anyone else. To Kera, she was awesome in the truest sense of the word. Almost as though she knew she was being watched, the being slowly turned and looked at her with eyes the color of fresh blood. The truck rumbled away, and Kera could swear she saw surprise in the being’s expression. The bombers pulled into the site and started crawling all over it. The pale woman turned toward one of them and held up her hand. Red smoke that almost looked like oil paint rose from her palm, and the man in front of her began to scream.
Thank fuck I’m one of the good guys. Kera slammed the door shut and slumped against the side of the truck. The child she’d pulled from its mother crawled into her lap silently and lay there still and light as a feather. She stroked its head, unsure whether it was male or female. She asked its name in what she hoped was its native language, and the soft reply confirmed female.
“That was too close. We need to close shop here, boss.” Her chief, Ajan, also held a child in his lap, while the mother rested against him, tears streaking down her dirt covered face.
“I know. I just hate giving in to these bastards. But we can’t lose any more people. We’ll close down and get everyone home. Once they’ve razed it to the ground and have moved on like the locusts they are, we’ll try to come back and rebuild.”
He nodded and passed the child back to its mother. “We got twenty out of the main building and all ten out of the secondary building. Yang and Deek are already en route to the rendezvous point with the other group, and the plane is ready. As long as we can avoid any ground-to-air missiles, we’ll be in France by morning.”
Kera sighed, exhaustion and frustration finally sweeping away any adrenaline she had left. “Take off after dark, unless we need to get up before that.”
“That’s only an hour away. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
The rest of the ride to the plane was made in silence, except for the soft crying of the women and children. As she studied them, remembering their names and places of origin, she felt the weight of her work more than usual. An unbidden image of the pale woman came to mind. It’s time for a vacation. When she started to see the orishas her mother had told her about as a child, it was time to take a break and get away from the daily horrors she dealt with.
Once they’d loaded the women and children onto the passenger plane, along with some of her staff, she and the rest of her senior staff boarded her own private jet. It would get to France faster, which meant she could have things moving before the other plane touched down. They buckled in, and it was only minutes after full dark that the two planes took off.
Ajan fell asleep almost instantly in the plush leather seat opposite her, and all the other staff were either asleep or subdued. Once in the air, Kera headed for a quick shower, needing to wash off the dust and death of the educational outpost in Nigeria that was now nothing but a pile of blasted stone. She let the water sluice over her, and slowly she felt almost normal again. It’s all part of the job. That’s what I tell everyone, and it’s as true for me as it is for them. She knew without asking they didn’t see the pale woman. She’d learned as a child to keep silent about seeing the beings no one else could.
She headed back to her seat and closed her eyes, determined to dream about the mysterious being rather than the destruction they’d barely lived through.
* * *
The six-hour flight to France had gone quickly, and once on the ground, Kera took control and made the necessary arrangements for the next steps. The refugees would be taken to a safe house, where they’d receive medical care and food. Then, with the help of interpreters, they’d be asked where they wanted to go next. If they wanted to stay in Europe, the paperwork would begin. If they wanted to go to family somewhere else, that would be arranged too. It was entirely up to the women, and because they’d hardly known a time with that kind of choice, it often took a little while for them to decide. There was no rush.
Kera met Ajan for breakfast in the hotel the next morning, feeling refreshed and ready to get moving. He didn’t look quite as good.
“You look like you got hit by a bomb,” Kera said with a smile after taking an appreciative sip of her coffee.
“Funny. You look like you just left a Beverly Hills salon.”
“Yeah, well, I’m lucky that way. It’s hard to be this good-looking, you know. It takes enormous effort and self-control not to let it go to my head.”
He rolled his eyes, and she was glad to see his trademark smile beneath the lines of exhaus
tion.
“I’m sure it does. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to getting home, to my own bed.”
Home. It feels like a place in a dream. She pushed away the loneliness that thought always brought with it. “Me too, buddy, me too. I can’t wait to have a conversation with my favorite scotch again. You?”
“Ice cream. The good stuff. I’m going to spend the night in an ice cream locker and eat myself into a cookie dough coma.”
She laughed and relaxed. It was well known that Ajan had the most intense sweet tooth on the planet. It was one of the best ways to bribe him. “Everyone get settled in okay last night?”
“Fine. Lots of tears and plenty of fear. That bombing really shook things up. But I think everyone will figure out where they want to go before long.”
“Medical?”
“Starting with the kids, then moving on to the mothers. Mostly dehydrated and malnourished, though they’re checking for cholera and TB.”
Kera picked up her phone and rang the main office. “Hey, Shell. We’ve just made a drop-off at the French location from our base in Nigeria. Be ready for influx, will you? And have status reports available on Kenya, Madaya, and Ethiopia. I’ll also want to check in with the medical unit, so let them know I’ll need reports and concerns by Friday. And get the president of Full Drum on the phone for me tomorrow morning.”
She hung up, and Ajan shook his head. “I don’t know how you keep all this stuff in your head.” He leaned forward and took her hand in his. “Make sure it isn’t staying in your head, hear? This stuff…” He swallowed hard. “Once it gets hold, you have to scrape it out, like a cancer. Don’t let it get hold, girl. I can see it sometimes. It’s like watching ghosts in your eyes.”
