Crow didn’t say anything else, but when I glanced at him he just gave me a small inscrutable smile.
Gods. They might be drama queens but they were also a relatively small group of beings. And I knew that no matter how long I lived and no matter how many times I contained each god power to allow it—through me—into Ordinary so that it could be put down into rest, I would never understand what it was to be a god.
“Big bolt you got there,” Crow noted. “Though not the biggest I’ve seen.”
Zeus’s jaw locked, and when he turned, there was nothing wistful about him. He just looked like a rich, annoyed, businessman. A businessman with a god weapon.
“So the lightning bolt was left in your god realm?” I asked.
“Yes. Which is heavily guarded and locked while I am gone.”
“The realm is locked or the weapon is locked?” Myra asked.
“Both,” he said. “This isn’t something anyone could access.”
“Locks are made to be picked,” Crow noted.
“So you have always said,” Zeus agreed.
“Has this happened before?” I asked.
He paused, thinking. He cast a quick glance at Crow, as if asking something. But whatever that question was it didn’t appear Crow had an answer.
“No one has ever stolen my lightning bolt and then mailed it to me ground shipping.”
“I don’t think it’s ground,” Jean said. “There aren’t even any stamps on it, or addresses.”
He gave her a quick wink. “Just a turn of phrase.”
She nodded. “The point I’m making is not only did someone know where to find the weapon, and how to access it, they knew how to handle it. I’m guessing not everyone can touch that without…. What did you say it would do?”
“Vaporize.”
She nodded. “Vaporizing. And whoever handled it also knew to leave it here in your private space. Not say, at your front door, or in the garden.”
“Parterre,” he corrected.
“Right,” she said. “Fancy garden.”
“Who can do that?” Myra asked. “Or let’s start here: Is it something a human could do?”
I could tell Crow was suddenly very interested in Zeus’ answer and had a moment to worry that Zeus wouldn’t want to answer.
“With the favor of another god,” he said slowly, “with the right spells,” his eyes flicked to Crow again, who was holding very, very still, “or armor. With some combination of assistance and magic of their own, there is a very—an extremely—small possibility a mortal could have done this.”
“Okay,” Myra said in her calm way that also saidthank you for being honest. “How about supernatural beings? Are there any who might be capable of pulling this off?”
He shook his head. “You’re asking me to weigh and measure thousands of different sorts of living beings with millions of combinations of abilities. So in general, those who are either more powerful or, alternatively, more resistant to power might have an edge. It is still an extremely small possibility.”
I knew where Myra was going with this. I knew what her next question would be and I braced for it.
“How about gods?” she asked. “Could a god do this?”
He scowled at Crow. “Perhaps.”
“And demons? Are they capable of finding the weapon, stealing it, and delivering it to you?”
The scowl deepened. “I would like to think not. But no matter how carefully any of us lock away our weapons, the very act of setting our powers down and living in Ordinary can create complications.”
