“And?” I asked, trying to connect the image I had of Thanatos—humorless and infinitely more interested in the little details of living a mortal life—with the idea of pulling a prank.
Could not brain my way through that.
“He said he’d never break contract with Ordinary in such a way.”
“You believed him?”
He nodded. “Death has a thing about contracts. Then I called Eris, Ares, Bishamon, Apep.”
Goddess of discord, God of war, God of warriors and punisher of evil-doers, and God of chaos. Looked like he’d covered most of the obvious bases.
“Nopes all around. So I called Poseidon.”
“What?” Myra asked. “Why Poseidon?”
“Because when doesn’t he screw up? Do you know how many times Poseidon has died? Not just died, but died stupidly and accidentally?”
Not that most people made it a point to die purposely, but he had a point. Poseidon’s power had changed hands five times in recent history because the mortal—both males and females—who tended to pick up that power, were always too confident about their ability not to drown.
Then they always drowned.
Just three months ago during the Rhubarb Rally, Poseidon had almost drowned when drinking a toast to the blessing of the Rhubarb Regatta.
But dying a lot didn’t mean Poseidon was after the god powers. Nor that he had the ability to pick up all of them, move them, and find a place to hide them.
“Seems a little out of Poseidon’s M.O.,” I said.
Crow rolled his eyes. “Ask any of the gods. Most of our biggest disasters have happened because of Poseidon.”
“He’s the god of the sea,” Myra said. “I’m not convinced he’d want anything to do with stealing god powers.”
“Yes, well you haven’t been alive for several thousand years. God of the sea is klutz of the universe. He probably tripped and somehow fell on the oven latch and let all the powers loose and doesn’t want to get blamed for it. Trust me, he’s a suspect.”
“Trust you?” I put down my coffee. “Because you’ve given us so many reasons to do so?”
“Hey, I helped you find your ex-exboyfriend so you could give him Heimdall’s power.”
“He’s still an ex-boyfriend, and you picking up your power to help me find him is what got you into this mess. You should have just left Ordinary for a year. Like the rules say. Like Hera and Thor did. Likeeveryonedoes.”
“But I like it here,” he whined.
“Of course you like it here—it’s a vacation.”
“What kind of consequences are we going to have to deal with from him not picking up his power?” Myra asked.
“Good question,” I said. “If we’re lucky—and we never are—maybe all that will happen is the powers will have been stolen.”
She was still frowning. “It’s in our job description to mete out punishment to the god who breaks the rules of Ordinary.”
“Is there precedence for this sort of thing?”
“No,” Crow said.
“I’m sure there is,” Myra said. “But I’d have to look it up.”
“Do that.”
“What?” Crow said. “I thought you were my friends.”
