by Brey Willows
Tis had no idea what to say. Compliments from attractive women hadn’t come her way in a very, very long time.
“Please, come in. I’m just finishing the salad. Wine?”
“Yes, thank you. Your home is lovely.” Tis stayed in her more human form, keeping her eyes round and her fangs sheathed. But she folded back her wings and let them drag along the cool tiled floor. She hated hiding them, and being able to keep them out was novel.
Kera looked around her place, as though seeing it through Tis’s eyes. “It is, isn’t it? I hardly ever get to spend time here, and then when I do, I forget to really look at it. Feel free to wander around.”
Tis took her glass of wine and did just that. The house was massive, with high ceilings and curved archways leading from room to room. Cool terra-cotta flooring offset light terra-cotta feature walls, and beyond the spacious kitchen and small informal dining area was a large formal dining room. The living room was long and open, with sofas that looked like she could sink into them like clouds. The house was modern, not packed with furniture, and had very little about Kera personally. The paintings on the walls were black-and-white female nudes, but there were no photos anywhere of family. Tis liked to know people, really know them, and so far, there wasn’t much about Kera except her appreciation of the female form and the fact that she had considerable wealth.
“I thought we’d eat on the deck, if that’s okay?” Kera called from the kitchen.
“That sounds great.” She looked at Kera’s bookshelves. She’d always thought it was possible to tell a lot about someone by the books they read. Almost all the books were nonfiction, about things like architecture, water filtration, social conscience organizations, and psychology. There were biographies on various women throughout history and quite a few books on anthropological studies. There were also a number of language guides and dictionaries. So, she’s not an escapist. Tis wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. She didn’t need to be around someone like herself, who was always consumed with work and the tribulations of the world. She needed…light.
She wandered back to the kitchen and found Kera setting out the dishes on the deck table. The outdoor patio was also huge, with a massive covered lanai area, again with cloud-like sofas, and a few feet away, a long, thin lap pool that ended shortly before the dock, where a small boat bobbed in the water. She watched as Kera set everything out, carefully arranging the plates and silverware. She moved with fluid economy, not wasting time or energy. Tis liked the way her muscles bunched under her baby blue T-shirt and the perfect fit of her jeans. She looked strong. And sexy. Very, very sexy. When she looked up and saw Tis watching her, she grinned, and Tis swallowed against a rush of desire.
“My father taught me that presentation matters. We should enjoy our food on every sensory level, not just as sustenance. So, when I’m not in a war zone of some kind, I try to take my time.” She motioned to an empty chair. “Shall we?”
“Thank you.” Tis sat and watched as Kera dished their food. “Are your parents still alive?” Kera flinched slightly, and Tis berated herself. Humans didn’t like talking about death. She often forgot how sensitive they were about losing loved ones. Since Tis had never lost anyone, she couldn’t really empathize. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive.”
“No, it’s okay, really. My father is still alive, and we’re very close. He’s currently in Haiti with my mother’s family. She passed away eleven months ago. Cancer.”
Tis wasn’t sure what to say and floundered for a moment. Think like a human, idiot. “I’m sorry. It sounds like you were close.”
They ate silently for a moment before Kera smiled. “We were extremely close. She was incredibly religious and wanted me to follow in her footsteps as a priestess, the way I followed her into science. But I saw the suffering and misery around me, and I couldn’t fathom why God would allow that kind of thing. The weird thing is, I knew he existed, or at least, elements of faith did, because I often saw the orishas.” She laughed. “And you. I saw you.”
“But you still didn’t believe?” Tis began to eat but kept her attention on Kera.
Kera shook her head. “It wasn’t so much that I didn’t believe as I didn’t care. They weren’t helping people, as far as I was concerned, so they didn’t have anything to do with my life.” She motioned at the food. “How do you like it?”
Tis finally noticed the flavors in her mouth. She’d been so focused on Kera, she wasn’t paying attention. “It’s all delicious. Perfect, in fact. And beautiful.”
Kera blushed. “I’m glad you like it. My father is a chef, and I learned my appreciation of food from him. You know, cooking for you is way more pressure than cooking for a regular date.”
“Why is that?” Tis took another bite, enjoying the idea of it being a date.
“I’ve seen you in action. What if you didn’t like the food? I could end up on the other side of those fangs.” Kera laughed.
Taken aback at how lightly Kera took what she’d seen, Tis looked blankly at her for a moment before she started to laugh too. “Unless you poisoned me, or a family, or an animal, I don’t think you’d need to worry. Fortunately, I’m not so volatile. My sister Meg, on the other hand, might torture you for hurting food. That’s always possible.”
Kera ate and sipped her wine. “Then I simply won’t cook for her. I’ll reserve that for you.”
Tis finished her meal and closed her eyes. “That’s probably a good idea.” Her eyes popped open when she realized how that sounded. “Not, I mean, that you should only cook for me. Or that I expect you to, ever again—”
Kera held up her hands. “Are you always this concerned about what you say?”
Tis thought about it. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ve become that way.”
Kera refilled their glasses and then motioned toward the deck chairs. Once they were seated, she said, “So what changed?”
“Is this normal? Is this really small talk? Aren’t we supposed to be talking about favorite colors and pets we had as children?”
Kera looked amused. “Do you like small talk? Personally, I loathe it with all my being. And I wouldn’t think someone with your experience would find that interesting.”
Thank the gods. “No. I despise it. But do you want to know the dark things so soon? In fact, maybe you could tell me more about yourself. For instance, why do you help people? Why go through all the trouble when you could have been a rich, successful businesswoman without a care in the world?” Kera’s laugh made Tis smile, but not the way Aulis’s made her smile. Kera’s went right through her, like a warm caress along her nerves.
“I think business people have some troubles, too. The hours are insane, and when you move the kind of money and resources I do, it’s high stakes, high intensity, and incredibly emotional work. Frankly, I made a few bad decisions, and I decided some things had to change. I took some time off, sailed all over the world, saw the Seven Wonders, and enjoyed the hell out of life.”
Tis liked watching Kera talk. She looked so relaxed, so peaceful, stretched out on the lounger, talking with her hands as she spoke. She certainly didn’t look like the person rescuing women and children from rubble Tis had seen in other parts of the world, though she definitely looked like the playgirl billionaire she’d Googled. “And then?”
Kera sighed quietly. “You know that story about Buddha? How he was a prince, and once he saw true poverty, he couldn’t go back to being a prince?”
“Of course. We’ve talked about that moment often through the years.”
Kera gave her a brief incredulous glance and then started laughing. “Of course. How silly of me.” She shook her head and continued. “Well, I was on a cruise in South America. We stopped at some quick tourist port, and we were instantly beset by the locals, selling handmade crafts, children begging for money, women offering to braid people’s hair.”
“And that bothered you?”
“Not that, so much. That happened in a lot of places. It was thei
r eyes. They were talking to us, but they weren’t. It was like they were looking through us, accepting that these rich people, who could afford to take this insanely expensive luxury trip, weren’t going to give them the time of day. It was like…they’d accepted they were less than.” She shrugged, obviously still haunted by the memory. “I started a conversation with an old woman who was sitting and watching it all. Then a few other women and kids joined us. I ended up going back to the old woman’s house. I never got back on the ship. I had a friend pick up my things at the next port, and I stayed with the villagers for three months. I learned how little they had, what they needed, and who they were as humans. I’d been trying to figure out what to do with my life, and they gave me the direction I was looking for.”
They drank silently for a while, watching the boats drift by on the water. Tis processed what Kera had told her. She’d been a good scientist doing good work. The news articles had blamed her disappearance on a breakdown after a bad business decision, but it had never been confirmed. She wondered how bad it must have been in order to cause someone like Kera to drop everything and run.
Kera looked at her. “Can they see you?” She tipped her glass at the passing boats.
“No. I’ve got my wings out, so they can’t see me. Now that we’re open, people often stare, or worse yet, corner you into a conversation you don’t have the time or inclination for. But if it’s a problem, I can change, if you need me to?” She didn’t offer to let them see her with her wings out. It was hard enough going to and from work and having the press and curiosity seekers everywhere. She didn’t need it when she was trying to relax.
Kera laughed loudly. “Please, don’t ever change on my account. It just occurred to me it will look like I’m sitting here talking to myself.” She looked at Tis, her gaze clearly on her wings. “But to be able to sit next to you, next to your beautiful wings, I’ll gladly look crazy to my neighbors.”
Tis giggled and put a hand to her mouth, surprised at the sound coming out of her. “Humans are no crazier than gods, I can assure you.”
Kera reached out tentatively and stroked the edge of Tis’s wing, making her shiver. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful. I’m glad you came tonight.”
Tis smiled, and the genuine feeling of being happy was so foreign, she wondered if she were drunk. “Me too. Thank you for inviting me.”
Kera looked like she was going to ask a question, then settled back instead.
“What is it? Do I have spinach in my teeth?” Tis figured joking was the human way of making things less tense. When Kera smiled, she knew she was right.
“Forgive me if this is too forward. Are you involved romantically?”
It was a forward question, and Tis was glad she asked. “No, I haven’t been for a long time.” She took Kera’s hand in her own and marveled at how delicate, how fragile the human hand was. “I don’t have the time. You’ve seen me at work. You work in the same places. You know how busy this world keeps you.”
“So true. I’m not with anyone either, if you were wondering.” She grinned and squeezed Tis’s hand. “For the same reason, really. I don’t have the time. And women aren’t great with the whole ‘I don’t know if I’ll be coming back’ thing, either. But I have to be realistic.”
The thought of Kera dying in some war torn country made Tis’s chest hurt in a way she’d never felt. “Yes, I can imagine,” she said.
Kera stood and stretched. “Enough of the heavy stuff! Why don’t we go listen to music at the bistro on the beach?”
Tis nodded, glad for the distraction. “I’ll put my wings away. The press comes up with enough rumors about you. You don’t need talking to yourself added to your list of accomplishments.” Tis pulled the magic around her that made her visible, and palatable, to humans. Kera studied her, and she was amazed at the insecurity running through her. She hadn’t been insecure for four and a half thousand years. The first five hundred of her existence she’d had a few vanity issues, but after that…
“I wish I could say the press make stuff up, but most of it’s true, and I’m good with who I am. And I hope you don’t mind me saying, I like that people will be able to see me with you. There’s nothing like being with the sexiest woman in the place.”
Tis felt the heat rush to her face. Oh gods. Blushing? What on earth is wrong with me? “No, I don’t mind you saying that at all.”
They left Kera’s and strolled away from the port and down to the beach where they walked along the water. “What brought you to this part of France?”
Tis had wondered the same thing. “You know, I have no idea. There isn’t a place on the planet I haven’t been, and I have several favorites. But for some reason, I felt pulled to this area. I’m on…vacation. Just for a few weeks.”
“I didn’t know gods took vacations. That’s good to know. Maybe now people will get an out of office message when they pray.” Kera looked at her mischievously.
“I’m not a god, so I don’t know about that. People don’t pray to furies. They pray to whoever they believe in when they see us though, I can tell you that.”
Kera laughed. “Oh, I’ve seen you. I bet they pray to anyone listening, not just the ones they believe in.”
“Am I that scary, truly?” Tis asked, genuinely curious. She was who she was, and although she knew she and her sisters were terrifying to those they sought, she hadn’t considered how people they weren’t speaking with perceived them.
“Honestly? If I were looking up at you, and I knew you were there for me, I’d probably need new underwear, instantly. But from a distance—”
Suddenly, a water sprite leapt from the sea and landed in front of them, water dripping from her seaweed hair, her algae green skin glowing eerily in the moonlight. Her high-pitched voice sounded completely out of place when she said, “Zed says you’re needed back at headquarters, right away. Tonight.” Her sharp little teeth made her smile look malicious.
“I’m on vacation. He knows that.”
“There’s been a commotion, and they need the voice of reason.” She shrugged and leapt back into the water. As she sank beneath it, she said, “He said to tell you it wasn’t a request.”
When she was gone, Tis heard Kera let out a windy breath.
“What was that?”
“A water sprite. They’re excellent messengers, given how much of the planet is covered in water, but I’ve never liked them.”
Kera swallowed audibly. “I can see why. They’re like horror movie dolls. With nasty teeth.”
Tis stopped and faced her, glad when Kera took her hands in her own. “I’m sorry. Work calls. But if I can get things settled quickly…”
Kera gently kissed the tops of Tis’s hands. “Then come back, and we can pick up where we left off. And if not? Who knows, maybe we’ll run into one another while saving humanity.” She brushed another kiss along Tis’s knuckles. “The world isn’t that big, right?”
Tis was surprised at how much she wanted that to be true. “I’m hoping to get back, I really am. But for now…” She stepped back and released the magic, allowing her wings to unfold. She liked the look of appreciation and awe in Kera’s expression as she watched. “I’m afraid I have to go.”
She leapt into the warm night air, turning to look at Kera standing on the beach below her. Kera raised a hand in farewell, and Tis flapped her wings hard in response.
Zed had better be about to fade, or choking on a donut or something. For the first time in centuries, she couldn’t wait to see someone again.
Chapter Seven
Tis pressed her fists to her tired eyes. They’d been at it for hours. Every time a god brought up a new rule, someone else started asking questions. Eventually, they lost sight of the rule altogether, and around it went. All she really wanted was to be sitting on Kera’s deck, sipping wine and watching the passing boats.
“This is why I asked you to iron these things out before I got involved. There’s no point in me being here.”
Zed slammed his fist on the table, and the room was instantly silenced. “We’re here to begin the process of setting things in place, and I want to let Tisera leave soon.” He looked at each individual just long enough to make them squirm.
That he could do so to a room full of gods meant he was back in full power, and Tis had to admit she liked the reminder of the old days.
“The first thing we’ve agreed on is this: every single religion states a no violence policy. No killing in the name of any of us.”
Most every god nodded their agreement, though Tis noticed one or two who sat stone-faced. “And how are you rolling out this policy to your followers?”
“We’re going to our individual meeting places, or sacred sites, and speaking directly with the followers. We’re having our words inscribed there and then, and then we’re reading them to make certain they’ve been transcribed properly.”
Tis wrote as Zed talked. “I’m marking that as rule one, procedure A. Each god will instruct their followers in a no violence policy and see to its instruction and dissemination. Is that correct?” Again, there were plenty of nods, but she could sense the tension in the room. “Is this decision by majority vote?”
“There are a few dissenting voices who aren’t sure about the wording, but for the rest of us it’s clear. So yes, it’s by majority vote, and those outvoted will adhere to the policy.”
Tis wrote it down. “Next?”
“This is bigger, and we haven’t worked out the dissemination yet. However, the idea is for us all to reach out to our followers and devise new, updated texts. Wording to be in current language usage, so there’s less ambiguity, and the rules of the religion apply to today’s world. This will provide a common base for the followers, and any questions with regard to the text can then be put directly to the deity in question.”
“I still don’t understand how we’re going to do that. It will take years. Maybe decades.” Confucius looked glum, his normally pensive expression pained.
