I hear the god cough, and my thoughts come into a guilty halt. He can't have heard what I was thinking.
Right?
And it's not like I meant any of it, anyway. I simply can't help cracking jokes when I'm nervous, and considering how my anxiety levels are currently scoring, I'm this close to applying for a job at SNL.
A strobe of light finally appears at what seems like the end of the tunnel, and I can't help holding more tightly to the god's hand as we come into what seems like an underground maze of chambered caverns.
Its stone walls are cold and faintly moist to touch when I curiously run my fingers on their surface, and the solid ground has a mirror-like sheen that I've never seen before. Above us, glowing flowstones have turned into living chandeliers as they bathe the caves with golden light. Together, they create an airy atmosphere you would never expect from an underground cave, and any lingering fears I have of being claustrophobic are quickly distinguished.
The god suddenly squeezes my hand, and his words unfold in my mind when I look at his direction.
Do you know of the Erotes, moraki mou?
"I think I can recall a few stories," I answer hesitantly.
Good ones, I hope?
"Uh...well..." I suddenly have a feeling I need to pick my words in care, just in case my god and the Erotes are all from the same prehistoric era. "If I remember correctly, the Erotes are basically primordial giants with multiple heads. Sort of like the Hydra, but less...heads?"
The god doesn't answer right away, but I'm definitely sensing something here, and I shoot a suspicious look at his direction. "Are you laughing at me?'
Of course not.
Yup. He's totally laughing at me.
But you are partially correct.
I am?
They are primordial beings, but they are no giants.
"Titans then?"
No.
"Cyclops?"
No.
I can sense exasperation in the god's voice this time, and it makes me hesitate. I was planning to ask if perhaps the Erotes were chimeras or satyrs—-
They are gods, moraki mou.
"Oh. Right. Cool." Not. I may no longer be as divine-wary like before, but old habits die hard. I'd still rather talk about roaches than gods.
And besides—-
"I'm sorry, kyrios, but...I'm still confused. Why are you telling me about the Erotes?"
The members of the Order of Sub Rosa believe that they only honor one god.
"But I'm guessing...they're not?"
They are not.
I try connecting dots from there, but I just can't find any linear path from Point A to Point B, and a sigh escapes me. "I'm sorry, but I'm still confused."
I am one of the Erotes.
Now, we're getting somewhere.
There are four of us in all, and the others are my brothers.
Did he just say...brothers?
Would you like to meet them?
Uh.
Hell.
No.
But the question turns out to be rhetorical, with three other men already materializing into view, one in each corner—-
These are my brothers, moraki mou.
Anteros. Himeros. Erma.
The way the hairs at the back of my neck instantly stand up at the sight of them is telling, and the way my trembling legs are this close to kneeling down tells me these men...are not men at all.
They can't be anything else but gods, and when I think about how the man whose arms I fall asleep in can only be as divine—-
I turn to the god I can't see, but whose soul I am getting to know better and better. And right now, his soul is telling me one thing very clearly—-
There's something else he wants to say, and that letting me know about his brothers is just the start.
There's something else, something more precious, like—-
His name.
And he hears this. I know he has because I can feel him smiling at me.
Would you like to know it?
Only if you trust me.
Because that's what he said it would take. He has to trust me first—-
I do.
My breath catches. "I want to then," I say shakily. "I want to know your name."
The god cups my face.
My name, moraki mou, is Eros.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A BLT with add-on mushrooms, chips on the side with garlic dip, and blue lemonade, extra large.
That's what I'm having for dinner, which I happen to be sharing with not one, not two or three, but four divine beings, and not just any gods at that, but the four, full-blooded primordial (read: ancient as hell) gods that make up the mysterious Erotes.
Red-haired Erma is easily the most approachable, and he turns out to be the one responsible for leaving the order's mark on its members. Anteros with the jet-black crew cut reminds me of a stoic soldier with an occasionally acerbic tongue while third-born Himeros is almost ethereal with his long, honey-blond locks and quietly soothing voice.
The three brothers look nothing alike, and the only reason I don't question their claim of kinship is their identical eyes of gold and blue, which my god in his bestial form also possesses.