Castiel somehow grew taller and looked down his nose at me. His mouth twitched. “And what, pray tell, is a chicken?” he demanded.
I’d stepped too far. I became docile, cheerful, and quiet. “One of the gods’ noble creatures, sometimes domesticated?—”
He arched a brow.
“A bird of prey,” I answered. “Like a hawk.”
Silence fell between us. I smiled.
Castiel slowly returned the smile, though his eyes still gleamed. “A bird of prey. I like it.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived.
“Why do you disappear when others are around?”
“Disappear?” I wrinkled my nose.
He churned his hand in the air, gesturing vaguely. “Looking down. Speaking quietly. Agreeing with everything they say. Apologizing for everything. And for the love of all things, why do you let them touch you all the time?”
I reared back. “I do not let them touch me all the time!” I paused. “Who touches me? What are you talking about?”
“The elders!” Castiel tucked his wing back in now I wasn’t moving. “They’re always touching you.”
“No they aren’t.” At least, I didn’t think so. I didn’t really pay attention to that sort of thing. And even if they did, didn’t the men touch all the women? I wasn’t singled out in that way. Was I? It unnerved me he’d seen through my act. But then, he had since the beginning.
“I wish you wouldn’t disappear,” Castiel grumbled.
“Why do you care?” I stared at him in surprise.
His jaw snapped shut and he folded his arms across his chest. “I’m just curious.”
Sighing, I mimicked his posture, crossing my arms. “Lord Erlik, in his infinite wisdom, has given different roles to men and women. Equally important, but separate. And he has anointed the elders with knowledge the rest of us don’t know. They have chosen me to serve them here, as many of the other women serve in the kitchens or caregiving.”
“Right.” He eyed me as if he didn’t believe me.
“Just as Erlik is the god of death and beyond and Emmas is the goddess of life and nature, so men and women within this community fulfill different roles.” The words, long repeated over the years, felt meaningless now. Like when you stare at a word so long it starts to look misspelled.
“I spent a few years with a coven that celebrated Emmas, and I don’t remember them saying anything like that. Are you sure this is a common interpretation of Erlik’s precepts?”
I faltered at his words. A coven that worships Emmas? I had been told those had long died out. That we, the Church of the Love of His Divine Saints, were some of the only people left who remembered the rightful order of the gods. “It should be common,” I said slowly, pushing any secret doubts far to the back of my mind. Absalom, although he had been younger, had pushed this fact on me many times, often to the point of yelling across the kitchen table. “Though only a few of us obey in all things because only a few of us devote ourselves fully.”
I was sad my brother was dead, but I didn’t miss him.
I pushed that thought away, too, focusing on the conversation with the strange celestial. “Lord Erlik is a father to us all, a shepherd who cares for his flock with love and tenderness.”
“Forgive me,” Castiel said gently—and somehow it made his words much, much worse—“but I see very little of his love and tenderness within these walls.”
Anger shot through me.
“I do not recall asking for your opinion,” I said stiffly. “What do you know of any of this? This is my home, my entire life. You’ve been here for a day and you think you can lecture me on this? No.” My hands cut through the air. “We’re done. Find that book yourself.” I turned and stalked away.
Nine
Castiel
An overgrown chicken?
Did she think I was an idiot? I lived in a rural village up north. An overgrown chicken. I was nothing like a chicken. I hadn’t reacted to her taunt. I would save that for later. Bring it up when she least expected it.
