“Yeah,” he said. “Kirill can command the Intare while you go where you're needed.”
“Thanks, babe.” I sat down and started to eat.
“Really? You're gonna eat?” Pan asked.
“Yes, Pan. Join us. You're about to short circuit.”
“Vervain, you know this has something to do with that trickster,” Pan said. “I need you down there looking for that bastard, not starting fires.”
“I'm not going to start fires. I'm going to use the heat of my Fire Magic to evaporate water. Now, sit down. I won't be able to track the trickster. We have to look for Wishpoosh, remember? He will lead us to the trickster god.”
“I've been monitoring the attacks,” Torrent said. “It's wild. Literally. The floods are allowing beavers to swim right up to humans. People are distracted by the rain, trying to batten downthe hatches, as it were, using sandbags and stuff like that. So they don't notice the animals until it's too late.”
“What exactly are the beavers doing?” Quetzalcoatl asked.
“They're violently attacking people,” Torrent said. “Biting, mainly, but also clawing. It turns out that beavers are very aggressive animals. They defend their territories mercilessly. That's why there are those legends I talked about. Like Wishpoosh defending his lake.”
“What happens in that legend?” I asked.
“Oh, Coyote fights him, because he doesn't like the way Wishpoosh treats the other animals. Wishpoosh drags him underwater and tries to drown Coyote. They have an epic battle that floods the lake and overflows it, creating other bodies of water. They keep going, flooding each new lake and moving on until they create the Columbia Gorge. Oh, yeah, and then Coyote kills Wishpoosh and makes people out of his corpse. You know, one of your basic creation myths.”
“Excuse me?” I gaped at Torrent.
“As I said, it's a creation myth. Each piece of the beaver's body became a different tribe with traits of the piece. So the head became the Nez Perces, who were known for their good council, and the legs became the Klickitats, known to be great runners.”
“A corpse making life,” I murmured. “All right, I can see where they were going with that.”
“And I can see why Wishpoosh, if he's still alive, would be upset by that legend,” Que said. “It's insulting. And believe me, I'm familiar with offensive legends.”
With all the guile of a little boy, Torrent said, “But all the myths about you are good. They say you created the calendar and all of humanity.”
“All of it?” I asked Que.
“It's just a myth,” Que said. “And if you read further, you'll find that my people were conquered and created new myths about me. They said I was conquered too, and that I immolated myself. Or sailed off on a boat of snakes.”
I snorted. “I'm sorry. Humans come up with some bizarre stories. But I have to say that Aztec myths are right up at the top with Norse.”
“Norse myths are strange?” Que asked.
Trevor chuckled. “You may have sailed off on a snake boat, but there's an entire building made of poisonous snakes in my aunt's territory. People are tortured in it, the venom constantly dripping onto them.”
Quetzalcoatl blinked. “Well, yes, that's odd.”
“Okay, let's go boat to boat. There's a boat made of fingernails.”
Que's jaw dropped.
“Those are just a couple of the many weird things in Helheim,” I said. “The weirdest being Hel herself.”
“I'd rather talk about the fingernail boat.” Trevor, who'd once been held captive by his dear Aunt Hel, grimaced.
To be supportive, I changed the subject. “So, where are we needed most, Torr?”
Torrent's eyes went distant, then they went wide and shifted to me. “Oh, V.”
I swallowed, and the bite turned to lead in my stomach. “What? Tell me.”
“Oregon. There's a huge beaver population there.”
