I leave the house and go out to the cliffs nearby in a spot where our home is hidden from view. I do not know why it feels important to protect it from this angry soul, but I do this almost reflexively. On this expanse of lichen-crustedrock there’s nothing to see but stone and sea and one large statue looming over us. A statue still sharp and unworn by the wind. She appears wise and strong with a bladelike nose and angry eyes, and she wears a shapeless robe as if femininity means nothing to her. I find the mood suits me well.
I repeat my actions from the last time, wiping my cheeks and then holding the pearl in my wet fist, and just like before, he emerges in a wisp of mist from a hot pearl.
He’s large, towering over me. Had he a man’s legs he’d be no taller than Oke, but his octopus lower half takes up a lot of space and it undulates and shifts, reminding me that I once saw an octopus squeeze through the circle formed of its keeper’s forefinger and thumb. I shudder and he sneers.
“Here to bargain after all? What will you ask for, mortal woman? Will it be riches? Love? A crown?”
He’s a study in contrasts, his upper half that of a beautiful but oddly light-skinned man, his face set with fine features and black hair. He has no beard or even the shadow of one. Were it not for the fact that he has six fluctuating legs, I would almost find him attractive. That, and the fact he is dead—a soul only. Or at least, I assume this to be the case.
One thing I know for certain. I must handle my dealings with this being with great care. If Okeanos would betray me, then this creature would betray me even more quickly given the chance. My goals are not safe with him.
“I had a crown once, for all the good it did me,” I say carefully. “Who are you, exactly?”
“Who am I?” He darts like a striking snake, suddenlyright in front of me, face an inch from mine. I control my features as if I see this kind of behavior every day. I wish—suddenly—that I’d brought a weapon with me. Or even a fishing net.
“You draw me forth beneath a statue thatImade to honor the womanIkilled so I might take her place and you have the gall to ask who I am? I am Vesuvius, God of the Sea, just as this was Chaolic, goddess before me.”
I consider this. “All these statues are keepers of this island.”
If the sound he makes is a laugh, I find it more chilling than welcoming. “Certainly. Keepers. That’s what the gods are.”
“The gods are not immortal, then?” I ask. A painful hope lights sharply in my chest.
“Gods are not easy to kill, mortal. Nor do they suffer age, wounds, illness, or other trials of mortal life, so we call ourselves immortal, for it is practically so.”
He leans against the statue and studies a detail in how her hand is carved as if he hardly cares about our conversation.
“But you are dead.”
“Mmm.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but I believe it is a yes.
“And you killed a god,” I press.
He tips his head as if he allows a point to me.
“You killed this god,” I say, gesturing toward the statue. Getting answers from him is like dislodging a barbed hook from a fish’s mouth.
“I did.”
“How?” I ask calmly.
“How, she asks,” he says, and he laughs another of those grim laughs. “As if I will just tell you how to slay a god and take from him his power. If you want that, you’ll bargain for it, little mortal.”
I saunter a short ways away, collecting my thoughts. He practically thrums with annoyance as he waits for me.
“Are you trapped in that pearl?” I ask him. He does not answer, merely stares at me malevolently. I do not like the glitter in his eye. He sees an opportunity in me and I do not know what it is.
I tap my chin, thinking. I would prefer to know the rules of his imprisonment, but I do not think he will tell me unless it benefits him. I would prefer to know more about who offers me a bargain. I am terribly aware that this creature wishes to twist me to his own ends and that they may very well diverge from mine. But there is no one else who can tell me how to kill a god. And I know now that I must. Nothing else will satisfy the burning feeling that presses the air from my lungs moment by moment.
“What would you have in return for that knowledge?” I ask carefully.
He smiles, a terrible, cunning smile. I feel he is trapping me, but I can’t see how.
“In return for the knowledge of how to kill a god?” he states carefully.
“And an understanding of where I might reach the godsin order to do this deed,” I add. After all, I have no idea where to find Okeanos since he left me here alone and I will need to find him if I am to kill him.
“Just any god or one in particular?”
