Page 5 of Lies Among Gods

Pollo Nymphaea’s face, etched with a familiar mixture of concern and relief. His eyes, framed by full cheeks and a touch of middle-aged softness, mirrored his daughter’s own striking green eyes.

“They accepted you?” her dad asked hopefully.

His blonde hair, now thinning slightly at the temples, gave him an air of comfortable domesticity. He was tall, and Lyra, at five feet nine inches, knew she owed her own above-average height to him.

She smiled and replied, “They had a system error and told me to try back in a week.”

Her dad’s brow furrowed, a deep crease forming between his eyes. “Then why are you so cheery?"

She smiled brighter, hoping he didn’t sense the lies spilling off her lips. “Don’t you and Mom always tell me I have to be hopeful? So, I am.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Finally, you take our advice. You have always been such a stubborn little pebble.”

She forced a chuckle, the sound brittle and unconvincing even to her own ears. Pollo Nymphaea reached out, his hand hesitating for a moment before patting her shoulder with an awkward, heavy touch. “That’s my pebble. See? Perseverance. You will get your application sorted out. Once that is done, you will be exactly on the path the gods have chosen for you finally."

"Yes, Dad. I will,” she lied, the words tasting like ash.

"Good," he said, his face relaxing into the familiar. “Dinner at seven. Your mother’s making that bean casserole you like.” He turned, his footsteps receding down the hall.

Lyra shut the door quietly, leaning her back against the cool wood. The forced smile dropped, and she let out the breath she’d been holding, a long, shaky exhale.System error.It was the best lie she could conjure on the spot—vague, corporate, and hard to verify. It bought her a week, maybe less. A week of false cheer, a week of waiting for the inevitable moment her parents’ hope would once again curdle into disappointment.

Chapter nine

CHAPTER 4

Love came not as chaos, but as structure, and under the Goddess of Love, Lyrion Heartbane, blessing bonds were formed to serve harmony rather than desire. Love was granted to us in measured portions, bound by ritual and law, lest it lead us astray.

Snippet from “The Book of Natural History” By Priestess Antonella Killoran

Lyra had managed to hold the lie for the last five days. No one seemed to question it, just assuming she would get accepted into worship for the god of strife.Maybe I can lie and say they accepted me. Then if anyone looks it up on the online registry, I’m screwed.

They were even getting her job applications to apply for. She looked down at the stack her mother had handed her and flipped through the pages. There was Strainhand—general laborer for stress crews; Reinforcement Apprentice—assists impact masons; Load Runner—moves heavy materials between sites; Torque hand—junior forge worker, and so on. All jobs shewas pretty sure she was physically incapable of doing at her current strength level.

“These are all just starting points and can lead to much better jobs if you work hard and worship well,” Diane sighed as she pushed the applications towards Lyra.

Lyra’s gaze met her mother’s, but the words caught in her throat. The dim light cast long shadows across her mother’s tired face, and Lyra felt a heavy weight settle in her chest, crushing any flicker of a smile or the energy to speak.

“I expect these to be filled out and ready to submit as soon as you are approved,” Diane swiped at an imaginary speck of dust on the counter. “When are you scheduled to go back for your approval letter?”

A lump formed in her throat, a dry, rasping sensation as she turned her head. It was always simpler to lie to her dad; his gaze was often distant, unlike her mom’s sharp, knowing eyes that seemed to pierce through any deception. She couldn’t afford to let even a hint of the truth escape. “I am scheduled to go back on Wednesday, like I told you a dozen times before, Mom.”

“I am just making sure,” Diane sighed. “You can be so forgetful sometimes. As your mother, it’s my duty to make sure you keep up on your responsibilities.”

Lyra glanced out the window and felt herself deflate.I need to get out of the house, out of the neighborhood. Be anywhere but here.

“I was invited out to the club to hang with some new friends,” she murmured, looking down at the forms. “I am just going to go get dressed to meet everyone.”

“Okay, little pebble,” Diane laughed. “I hope they are friends you made at the Temple of Strife.”

“They are,” Lyra lied. “I met them outside the temple, and we exchanged contact info.”

“Oh, how lovely!” Diane came up behind her and wrapped her in a bear hug. “Do you need some spending credits? Of course you do; you have no job. Let me send you some so you can buy a round of drinks.”

Lyra’s cheeks flared with heat, a visible blush creeping up her neck as she watched her mom’s fingers dance across her phone screen, a soft click-click-click accompanying each tap. Suddenly, a low vibration hummed through Lyra’s own device. She fumbled to pull it out, her fingertips brushing against the cool glass. The screen lit up, a notification flashing: Diane Nymphaea has sent you credits.

“You can pay me back after you get your first paycheck.” Diane smoothed her hair down. “Go wash your hair; you look like a ragamuffin.”

Lyra smiled through gritted teeth. “Of course, Mother.”