She was not wrong.
Unfortunately, a lot of the gods had shown up to the rodeo extremely drunk and willing to try every event. Every. Event.
There had also been a Category One hurricane that weekend that may or may not have been courtesy of Poseidon who had not been invited. In any case, no out-of-towners had shown up, so Bertie had deemed it a one and done and canceled it for good.
“I do not give debts to gorgons.”
“You do if it remunerates the crime you committed.”
“No,” Stina said. “She owes me a debt for insulting my chocolates. There’s another price for theft.”
“Outrage!” Xtelle said. “Extortion!”
“Cool your jets,” I said. “What’s the other price?”
“Petting zoo,” Panny blurted.
“Goats aren’t supposed to talk, Pan.”
“We’re among friends here, aren’t we, Delaney?” He twisted his neck to look up at me. “The queen is new to this land. A tiny bend in the no-speaking rule seems appropriate.”
“This once. Otherwise…”
“Understood. Goat actions when in goat form, human when in human form.”
While Pan liked to hang out mostly as a goat, there were days when he’d shed the four-legged form for his more human form, who was short, bearded, and a hell of a dancer. He played music sometimes with a rag-tag band, usually at Jump Off Jack’s, or Mom’s Bar and Grill.
“Petting zoo,” Panny insisted.
Stina stared at him. I could tell she was surprised, because she blinked once, slowly, before looking back at me. “Starts in the morning of the High Tea Tide. Goes all day,” Stina said.
“There’s a petting zoo?” I asked. I didn’t know Bertie had decided on that.
“Oh,” Xtelle said, looking coyly over at Panny, “you flatter me. Although I’m not sure I can goallday. It’s been a while since I’ve been so rigorously engaged.”
“It’s for children,” Stina clarified. “A petting zoo for children to pet tame, docile farm animals. Not the X-rated demon thing you were just talking about.”
“Chill-dren.” Xtelle tried out the word like it was foreign to her.
“Petting docile farm animals. All day.” Stina hadn’t changed her stance, her arms still locked over her chest like she was ready to rumble.
“Touching me?” Xtelle sounded horrified. “Over your dead, stomped body!”
“My Queen.” Panny stepped sideways to face her. He bowed, and made it very pretty with one foot kicked out in front of him, the other bent. His thick, twisted horns were impressive balanced on top of his head, and the breeze brushed through his soft, white fur, making it float.
“I am notyourqueen, godling,” Xtelle said. But she’d lowered her voice, that bow of his apparently pleasing her.
“More’s the pity,” Panny murmured. “But may I be so bold as to suggest you partake of this quaint Ordinary custom? A petting zoo is a wonderful time to catch up on local gossip. Judge the inhabitants as they move about. There may be other ways to assess the people of a town, but none quite so covert as a petting zoo.”
“Go on,” she purred.
“While we wouldneverdo anything untoward or harmful,” he threw a meaningful side-eye my way, “being a barn animal allows a bit of leeway when it comes to manners.”
“Pan,” I warned. “She’s trying to fit in.”
He drew up out of his bow. “Yes. As a pony. All the world knows ponies are assholes.”
“Not in a petting zoo,” I said.
