Authors: Alexandra Rowland
Mara nodded encouragingly, more for her own benefit than Jocelin's. “We call it honey. But that's right! Birds... really don't touch the ground sometimes.”
“
But why with the strangeness?” Jocelin's head fell to one side slightly.
“
So we can continue the species. It happens with –” Mara paused, took all she had ever learned about human reproduction and condensed it further down than she would have if she'd been talking to a three year old. “Men and women together have children.”
Unfortunately, this set Jocelin off. “Different things don't belong together!” The angel stood up, highly agitated. “The dark sky mixes not with the light, and it
shouldn't
mix with the water!” Jocelin went silent for a long few moments, then fell to the floor and keened, a high, alarming sound that grated on the instincts of Mara's hind-brain. “We told it not to, we
told
it and it wouldn't listen to us! It stayed mixed with the sky, so we slapped it for being insolent, but it just mixed again!” Jocelin sobbed softly as Mara forced herself to pat one of the angel's shoulders, even though her whole being screamed at her not to touch.
“
I'm... I'm sure it will realize the error of its ways eventually.”
“
Thou knowest?” Jocelin asked, looking up at her. “Thou art sure of it?” Before Mara could answer, Jocelin's head tilted again. “What are we?”
“
That's... what I'm here to ask about.”
“
We are neither, are we not? We are like the sky and water, when they mix.”
“
I suppose you are, Angel Jocelin,” Mara said weakly. “We've been fretting about whether to call you 'he', 'she', or... whatever you wanted us to say. We – We didn't want to be rude. I didn't, at least.” Some people just picked one and ran with it, but Mara felt that was a little presumptuous.
“
And we are like the air and the fire,” Jocelin continued, ignoring her. “And trees and fog and plants and the sea, and other things. We must contemplate this.” The angel looked at her. “Yes. Now leave us.”
That had been entirely unhelpful.
***
Three weeks after Jocelin's arrival, the gods awoke to find the temple as a large country mansion. Many of the other buildings that the followers had been housed in were now noticeably closer than they had been before, and each day they seemed to get closer faster. The winery was now only a minute or two's walk away through the enormous garden, the orchard, and the wide, sweeping lawns.
“
If we keep having to deal with huge labyrinths, you'd think that I might have my own room," Lucien said, munching on a rosy apple from the tree next to the balcony, and watching Lalael trying to find the wardrobe that contained his shirts. This morning they had woken up in bunk beds. "Actually, we ought to figure out how to stop Jocelin mutating the temple. It's got to be her. Didn't do this before and I don't hold with it.”
Lalael slammed the door of one of the six closets and started opening drawers. A pause to rummage through a drawer. “Might not just be Jocelin. Could be us. Maybe we can only hold a certain amount of power.”
“
Jocelin could be the catalyst, then.”
“
Where are all my clothes?” Lalael demanded. “I can't go around in sleep clothes all day. I have
things
to do.
”
“
We could just get rid of him.”
“
No, we can't do that,” Lalael said immediately. “Jocelin wouldn't leave anyway, and Jocelin is practically family, and we don't know how Jocelin got out of Ríel or if Jocelin was left behind like us... Why can't I find any fresh clothes?!”
“
Jeans lying right over there,” Lucien said around a mouthful of apple.
“
They're too small. They chafe.”
“
As all good pants ought to. You're looking a bit glowy this morning, by the way. You should work some off.”
Lalael sighed and nodded. “Throw your apple core off the balcony.” They had continued experimenting with what they could and could not do: They could both create little areas of heat and cold, and fire that would burn for a while without fuel, and Lucien could do most things that were weather related – they had agreed this was probably because he understood it so deeply – and food that Lalael touched lasted a little longer than it otherwise might have.
Lucien took one last bite of apple and flung it off the balcony. This was a useful exercise for what Lalael was trying to do – it used up excess energy even though nothing actually happened. As Lalael, intense and focused, watched it fall, the pearly gleam went off his skin and hair. Lucien nodded, “Better.”
There was a faint thump and a short cry.
Lucien peered over the edge of the rail and immediately jerked back. “Shit, I hit Jocelin. She saw me look, too. Think he'll be pissed?”
Lalael groaned and put his face in his hands.
Lucien looked over the rail again; below, the other angel had picked up the half-eaten apple and was looking at it in amazement. Jocelin looked up again, spotted Lucien again, and fled indoors.
“
What happened?” Lalael asked, voice dripping with resignation.
“
Blushed. Ran away.” Lucien shook his head. “Nutcase.”
***
“
Most High and Honored Fallen Angel!¨ said Jocelin, bursting in the door to Lucien's office an hour later.
“
What,” said Lucien, shocked. “
What
?”
“
Honored Fallen Lucien, does this treasured object belong to you?" Jocelin held out the half-eaten apple, flesh now browned from the air.
“
Is that the apple I dropped on you this morning...?" There were too many things going on with this situation for Lucien to deal with, and he was only ten seconds into this particular interaction with Jocelin, so there'd be a few dozen more things before it was done.
“
Ah, so it is yours! Unless,” Jocelin clutched the apple hopefully, “Unless the Most Honored Lucien, lord of all he surveys, meant it as a gift unto us!”
“
Look, Jos – Sorry, I know you don't like –”
“
You honor us with a nickname! We feel joy. Priestess Mara told us of this. We wish to express our joy by. By...” Jocelin trailed off, staring at the apple as if the angel was not sure where it had been acquired.
“
Right, whatever you say. It's just trash, you know.” Lucien nodded towards the apple.
“
Never! It shines in the light, and there is brightness of hue upon its surface!”
“
...Yep,” said Lucien.
“
And the roundness of it! Glory be to the Síela for its creation!”
Lucien nodded and wished Lalael was within earshot.
“
And the delicate fragrance of this object! Tell us, Honored Lucien, what purpose does it serve?”
“
It's an apple, you're supposed to eat it.”
“
Eat... it?”
“
Yes, Jos.”
“
But... its color. And its shape and scent and –”
“
Jocelin, in this world, there are plenty of round, red, nice-smelling things. You don't have to be obsessed with just one specimen of one particular kind.”
“
Then this... this –”
“
Half-eaten apple,” Lucien supplied.
“
It is thy gift unto us?”
“
Sure, go on, go enjoy it while it lasts.”
Jocelin blushed madly and, once again, fled.
***
The knock, which came around midnight that night, was nearly drowned out by the sound of the rain slashing against the window.
“
Honored Fallen Angel Lucien, may we enter?”
“
Yes, Jos, come in,” the Fallen answered absently, wondering why everything edible in the store room was now something roundish and red.
The angel was suddenly standing next to him, dripping wet, radiating cold, yet smiling mysteriously and quivering with happy energy. “Honored Fallen, we have been told by...by... She with the dark eyes.”
“
Mara?”
“
No, she with also the red hair.”
“
Andrea?”
“
Yes, the Andrea has told us that it is a tradition to give presents to those whom we – What is the word?”
“
Um. Those we know? Those we like? Those we want to stop trying to kill?”
“
Yes. And so we went forth and we found a wonder, and we have brought it here as... as a present unto you.” Jocelin placed it reverently on the edge of the desk in front of Lucien and took several steps back.
“
Oh. A moldy peach.” Lucien struggled for words. “Just what I always wanted.”
“
We are so, so honored that you are pleased. We shall depart now, for Mara was most distressed when we ventured forth into yonder storm. She said unto us that we would... would... 'catch your death'. And we thought Death should not be caught or caged. But that is what she said when we returned with the present for you, and that we should... That she wished to show unto us the use of a bathing. With nakedness.” Jocelin nodded expectantly.
“
Right. You go do that, then. Go get warm and dry, put some real clothes on. You're shivering like anything." Lucien turned back to the inventory and made a few marks on it. A moment passed, and he was immediately distracted by wondering when the experimental tub of ice cream they had had made would actually melt in the room-temperature cabinet they'd stored it in.
“
Does,” Jocelin began, and Lucien started violently. “Does the Honored Fallen perhaps wish to attend the bathing?”
“
No, he does not! I mean, no, I don't! Go away!”
They had arbitrarily decided that the New Year had surely passed by now, even though no one knew what the date actually was anymore. Sometime in January. In any case, they had a lot of food now, and it might not have been real food grown out of the ground, but it filled bellies and no one cared to look too close at it, and so there had been a celebration, because what the humans did know was that six full moons had passed since the end of the world, and they were
still alive,
and that was something worth getting raucously drunk over.
“
Now that was a party,” Lucien mumbled, dropping into the chair next to Lalael the morning after. The previous night had been somewhat tipsy, draped in tacky decorations, and with far too many sweet foods for anyone's good.
The clinking of silverware and soft morning conversation filled the dining hall as he looked around blearily. “Where'd all this come from? How'd they get the food from last night cleaned up?”
Lalael didn't stop artistically buttering his toast. “No one knows. This probably
is
the food from last night. One of the followers found it this morning when he came in.”
The angel waved his knife vaguely. “Toast?”
“
Is there bacon?” Lucien wistfully asked.
Lalael peered under a few lids. “Pass the jam,” he said as he passed the plate of bacon to Lucien. He wasn't entirely sure the plate had been there a few minutes ago.
“
There is a being higher than the Shousán,” Lucien said, munching a piece of bacon with an expression of elation, “And it looks after those who have truly done good, which I must have at some point.”
“
Lalael and Most Highly Honored Lucien!” Lucien's blissful expression slid slowly off his face. “Are you reviving the feast of eons before?”
Lalael stopped trying to get the jam perfectly even on his toast. “It was just last night, Angel Jocelin,” he said, eyebrows knotted.
“
Sit down, Jos, have a biscuit.” Lucien gestured at a chair across from himself and Lalael.
“
Lucien,” the angel hissed, “Don't encourage –”
“
I'm too tired to do anything, Lael.”
Lalael stopped, shut his mouth with a snap, and went back to spreading his jam with a vengeance. Lucien smiled sweetly at Jocelin as the other angel examined a biscuit.
“
Honored Lucien of the Fallen, this... this bis-kit. What do we do with it?”
“
We eat it.”
“
We do?”
“
With jam.” Lucien swiped the jar, ignored Lalael's muffled noise of protest, and handed it over. Jocelin looked at it expectantly. “You put the jam in the biscuit. It's good, really.”
“
Morning Lucien,” Mara yawned and offered Lucien a mug. “Coffee?”
Lucien's eyes went wide and he seized it. After one gulp, he stood up and announced in a loud voice, “If I ever implied Mara was less than the definition of ideal for her position, I recant, I recant, I recant. She is a perfect human being and a beautiful woman, and you should all personally thank her for being here today.” Lucien took another sip of coffee and sniffled.