Fallen Reign (Sins of the Father 1)

“Priscilla the gorilla.”

“That’s right.”

I watched as Priscilla loped off back to her workstation, disappearing once more into the undergrowth. Somewhere from the trees, I heard a blender whirring.

26

We broke for lunch a little after that, mostly plant-based dishes lovingly served by Priscilla. She trotted out of the foliage, her arms loaded with grilled fish, a large bowl of something that looked like mashed tubers, a smaller bowl of freshly made salsa, red rice, and juicy pomelo segments and boiled bananas with syrup for dessert. She arranged them on the dining table I’d built, passing out banana leaves to use as plates.

Florian was ecstatic. I’d never really paid attention to his diet before, but it stood to reason that a dryad would be titillated by some good old natural organic food. I couldn’t complain, either: nutty mountain rice so beautifully textured you could eat it on its own, the fish so fresh, sweet, and flaky. Priscilla hovered near the table, her hands clasped together as she expectantly watched us eat.

“This is delicious,” I told her. “All of it. Absolutely delicious.” I kissed the tips of my fingers, which I hoped translated sufficiently well for Priscilla. Apparently it did. She covered her mouth as she grinned, flopping her other hand at me from the wrist, as if to say, “Oh, stop.”

Artemis’s domicile, in short, truly was a step away from paradise. I could see myself living there and loving it, all this access to quality fresh food, clean running water, and not to mention proximity to an ancient, powerful goddess who was very much interested in keeping her subjects happy and well-fed.

Hell, I could even get used to the weather. I was on a break from throwing together more of the furniture and went up on a low hill, hoping to catch a breeze against my body, and almost stumbled when I found Artemis already standing there. She was surveying her domain – more specifically, the fruits of our day of labor.

“Yes,” Artemis said approvingly, her hips pushed into her waist, sunlight glinting off of her shades. “This is just the ticket.”

I wiped my hand across my forehead, taking in the view. “It’s certainly something, all right.”

She smiled as she stared off. “It’s starting to look a lot like home. This was what my domicile looked like before, you know. I want every biome possible smashed into the same place, so I can keep all my little lovelies in the same dimension.”

I plucked my T-shirt out from under my waistband, wiping at the sweat trickling down my chest and stomach. “Your lovelies?”

Artemis turned to face me, lifting her sunglasses to look me in the eye. Correction, she did do a very quick, cursory sweep of my sweaty torso. I flexed my muscles and puffed up my chest, a little proud of myself. Hey, it’s the small things, okay?

“Yes, my lovelies,” she said. “Goddess of the hunt and all that. You think that Priscilla’s the only fauna we’ve got in this place? Think again.” She pointed a finger far out across the horizon, indicating a penned-off zone filled with what I presumed were different kinds of animals. “It’s the whole reason I wanted to rebuild my domicile in the first place.”

That was the whole deal with her sneaking around the arboretum and reactivating the tether to her dimension, then. See, the entities of earth decided at some point in time to band together, depending on their respective spheres of influence. The gods of darkness and the moon formed what was known as the Midnight Convocation. Artemis was a charter member, once, but was cast out for helping humanity – for helping Dustin Graves, specifically – and unintentionally enabling the permanent death of one of their number.

The Convocation didn’t just excommunicate Artemis from the organization. They stripped away huge plots of her domicile, too, leaving little, if any space for her to keep her huge menagerie. In her own words, Artemis was like a cat lady who’d been thrown out of her cat lady house. She needed some place to stash all her woodland friends. For a minute I wanted to jokingly ask if she could summon them by singing, if the mice and birds got together to stitch dresses for her, but quickly decided against it. I couldn’t risk her docking my pay, or skewering me with those arrows she liked to point at people so much.

“So let me ask the obvious, stupid question. Won’t these animals just kill each other? I’m pretty sure I see a cheetah in there.” I placed my hand over my eyes, scanning the distance. “And is that a wolf?”

“Three wolves,” Artemis said irritably. “And don’t you think I’ve planned for that? Give me some credit. My babies don’t die here, nor do they experience pain. Anything that gets eaten just heals together and gets back up again.” She coughed into her hand, speaking extremely fast. “Plus I get to hunt as much as I want and no one gets hurt.”

I nodded. “Now that makes a lot of sense.”

“Also Priscilla helps manage some of the more problematic ones.”

“Manage?”

“Wrestles them if they get too bite-y. Anyway, nothing to worry about. I’ve planned for everything. Obviously.”

I scratched my stomach absently. “Okay, but if no one dies, then they run the risk of overpopulation. There’s nothing to stop them from reproducing in the dozens. Soon enough this place will be overrun with, I dunno, mice and bunny rabbits. Just a matter of time.”

“Then let them come,” Artemis bayed dramatically, throwing her arms out. “I want this realm to be filled with fur babies. All of the babies.” She pushed her hands into her waist, her hair drifting in the wind, like a superhero. “I am the craziest cat lady of them all. Bring it.”

I pursed my lips, nodding in agreement. “I respect that. You’re owning it.”

“Now, listen. I’m going to need you boys to come in for the next week, maybe longer, depending on how much work still needs doing. So here. Take this token. Easy way to keep in touch. Careful, it’s sharp.”

She dropped a little triangle of metal into the palm of my hand. I peered at it closer, recognizing it as an arrowhead. My forehead creased. “So do I cut myself with this to call you?”

“No, dum-dum. Well and good, blood is always useful for communing with us, but this makes things more straightforward. As long as it’s on your person, you can keep in touch with me.”

“Sweet,” I said. “But whatever happened to cellphones?”