One figure was headed straight at me. I knew who it was before we drew close enough to speak.
Zeus.
The god wore dark blue shorts and a light blue, long-sleeve shirt that clung to his muscular chest, biceps, and lean waist.
I slowed just a little, because it wasn’t every day I saw the cultured and chic owner of the fashion boutique jogging down the beach.
“Morning,” I called out.
He slowed, then pivoted and began jogging alongside me back the way he’d come.
Spud thought that was the greatest thing that had ever happened, and bounced around Zeus, before jumping ahead to charge into a flock of seagulls standing around a half-buried piece of driftwood.
“Good morning, Delaney,” he said, not a bit out of breath, which I thought had more to do with the fact he was a god than his exercise regime.
“Funny seeing you here,” I said.
“How so?”
“I jog most mornings. I’ve run into you, what, twice in all that time?”
“We aren’t on the beach at the same time,” he said. “I run fairly often.”
I mean, it wasn’t a lie. But a god’s idea of time was a little different than a mortal’s idea. "Fairly often” in god-speak could mean once a century.
“Why today?”
“Why run?” he asked.
“Yes. Why today?”
We covered a little more ground, the wind at our backs, cool enough I was glad I was moving.
“I wanted to,” he finally said.
“You got tagged with Delaney duty, didn’t you?”
“Who have you been talking to? Crow?”
“Yes. And Than and Frigg.”
“They never could keep a secret.”
I huffed a laugh and slowed my pace. He matched me until we were down to a brisk walk.
“You know, you gods don’t always have to get your way,” I said.
“Oh, being here in Ordinary has made that very clear.” He speared me with a look, and I was caught, as I sometimes was around gods, by how magnetic he could be.
He might be on vacation but he was still Zeus, god of the sky, ruler, protector, and so much more. His copper skin and dark hair made him look like he came from a land of sun and rich wine.
“But getting our way isn’t why I’m here this morning,” he said.
Spud nosed around a clump of rotting kelp, chomped on a stick, dragged it out of the mess, then trotted his way back to us.
“So what’s it about?” I asked.
Spud stood a few yards away, tail high and wagging, waiting for us.
