Hour of Mischief (9 page)

“Whoops,” I said through gritted teeth. “Missed my target.”

The world spun like the hands on a broken clock and the next thing I knew, I was staring up at the whirling ceiling, watching red lights and golden whisky swim across my blackening vision. The voices buzzed around me like a faint lullaby, willing me to sleep.

I would regret this
so
much when I woke up.

ou know how to put on a show, girl, I’ll give you that.” The voice of a woman woke me. I lay sprawled across a plush couch, staring at a different ceiling than the one where I had passed out. It was quite a comfy couch and for a long moment, I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep again for a good two days.

But then I remembered why I had passed out in the first place. I had decided it would be a good idea to challenge the God of Drink to a drinking competition.

I also realized it wasn’t just any woman in the room. Laetatia herself leaned over me with mischievous grin on her face.

“Wake up, little human.”

Why did the gods have to call me little? Did it refer to my height or my insignificance? Either insult really jammed my gears.

I opened my eyes all the way, wincing as the light pierced my vision. “Lights . . . bright.”

“Ah, there you are,” Laetatia said. “Glad to see you awake. You recovered surprisingly quickly for a human. I feared you’d be out for twelve hours at least. You have a way with drinking games.” She shrugged. “And causing a bit of drama to go with them.”

I winced. “Um . . . right. About that–”

“Don’t apologize.” Laetatia silenced me with a wave of her hand. “The men here give Jasmine trouble sometimes. She used to be a whore. Once I got to know her, I helped her get out of that nasty business. But men still seem to think she’s open.”

“Drunks don’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’,” I muttered, my expression darkening.

Laetatia grinned. “A knife to the ear can help their hearing.”

“It sure can.” I looked around the room. It was a small space with only the couch I occupied, a faded-red armchair and a little table that sat in between. That and a private bar in one corner of the room. For a middle-class bar, it looked nice. “Where am I?”

“My personal backroom.” Laetatia sat down in the chair across from me, propping her feet up on the little table. “This is one of my favorite bars in the middle ring of Fortuna. I decided to give them a little donation, so they installed this room to honor me. I come here when I want to drink by myself.” She winked. “I think I’m lucky. Some gods get shrines, I get my own personal bar rooms. It’s
so
much nicer.”

“It is nice,” I agreed. “Why am I back here?”

Laetatia shrugged. “I didn’t want you to be trampled.”

“Oh,” I couldn’t help but be surprised that a goddess had concerned herself with my wellbeing. “Thanks.

“I couldn’t let all your efforts to be for nothing,” Laetatia said.

“Efforts?” I asked.

“You had quite the determined look on your face when you challenged me, so I got the feeling you might want to talk to me.”

Oh yeah, that’s why I challenged her. How kind of her to remind me.

“A lot of people challenge me to drinking competitions when they want something from me.” Laetatia continued at my blank stare. “Not many people would do it out of their own free will. Unless they’re already intoxicated. Humans think they can impress me with their tolerance for alcohol. But I only give them that something if they prove themselves against me. Your drinking was moderately impressive. The knife throwing more so. But I might not have let you back here if you hadn’t helped Jasmine.” She picked up a glass of clear alcohol from the table and took a swig. My stomach rolled at the thought of more liquor. “So let’s hear it.”

“Right, well,” I took a deep breath. I doubted there was a good way to ask for what I needed without earning a shocked and/or angry stare. So I just went ahead and said it, hoping Laetatia was in a good mood.

“I know about the apocalypse.”

Laetatia almost choked on her drink.

In retrospect, I could have handled that better.

“Okay.” Laetatia smoothed back her hair once she had regained herself and took another swallow of her drink. She seemed to hope this little sip would make her a whole lot drunker. “I’ll entertain this.
How
do you know about the apocalypse?”

“Doesn’t matter. I just know.” It’d be best to leave Itazura’s name out of this conversation if I wanted to be taken seriously. “I came to speak to you about the gods’ stance on this issue. They’re trying to keep it a secret from humans, right?”

“Because they think you might have an objection to being sacrificed to a game of cat and mouse with the elder gods.” Laetatia nodded. “Telling the humans forces us to actively do something about the elder gods rather than letting them run through their store of power.” She brushed her russet bangs from her face. “Admittedly that plan walks a thin line between strategic and lazy.”

“I’m leaning toward lazy,” I said. “Why not crush the elder gods?”

“Wars between gods take a lot of time and energy.” Laetatia pointed out. “And if we expose ourselves on the open field, so to speak, the elder gods will have a better chance of winning. They know this. The human realms weaken us. We can’t take on our true forms as long as we walk inside the clock face. If we hole up in
our
realm, the elder gods can’t touch us.” She stared at her drink. “I’m a little fuzzy on the details. Kova is the Goddess of War, not me. We don’t mesh to well.”

“I can’t imagine why,” I said flatly.

“And anyway, why are you coming to me about this?” Laetatia asked. “I can’t change Mother and Father’s mind. They’re the Clockmaker’s hands and voice, and even he has expressed his worries about the elder gods, though he did not suggest any solutions.”

“The Clockmaker?” My eyes widened. A lot of people didn’t believe the Clockmaker existed for a reason. There weren’t many records of him playing a hand in the human realms, so he had very few worshipers. People saw him as an observer rather than one who acted. The fact he had weighed in on an argument at all was mind blowing. “
The
Clockmaker? Actually . . . speaking?”

“Yes,” Laetatia said. “He hasn’t appeared to us. He relays his message through Mother and Father. But it’s making everyone antsy. We’ve been ordered by Mother and Father not to mention anything about this conflict. We can’t surrender our powers just because the elder gods are holding the human realms hostage. Warning the human realms could turn them to the elder gods and weaken our position.”

“But someone
has
to warn them,” I said, sitting up even though my head screamed in protest. “And you
like
humans, unlike some of the other gods. So we–I mean I–figured, you might help.”

Laetatia frowned. “It’s not in my nature to spread bad news, girl. I love festivities and merriment and drunken bar songs in the early morning hours. Not spreading bad rumors and causing panic. I’m not sure I’d be suited for such a dreary topic.” She swirled the remnants of her drink in her cup. “Eventually the elder gods will realize they cannot hope to challenge the Realm of the Gods with only half their power.”

“By that point they’ll have destroyed most of the human race,” I said, my voice rising in both volume and conviction. “I know the rumors aren’t ‘fun’ but if you don’t spread the word, then all the humans could be wiped out by the elder gods and their damn apocalypse while other gods do nothing. Then maybe you recreate the human race but what if the elder Gods destroy that too?

“Then there–there won’t be any humans left to sing drunken bar songs with. There won’t be any more parties. There won’t be any more drinking competitions or festivities.” I recalled what Itazura said earlier about his domain and its need for humans. “If this apocalypse isn’t stopped, you’ll have nothing. You need us for your domain.”

When I had finished, I took a deep breath and prayed Laetatia wouldn’t punish me with her godly powers. I was quite sure she could take away my resistance to alcohol if she wanted, and if she did, I would likely keel over dead.

But she didn’t smite me. She just studied at me for a long while. Maybe she
was
considering my statement. The tiniest flicker of hope blossomed in my chest.

Finally, Laetatia sighed. “Show me your palm, human.”

“What?” I asked.

“Your palm.” She held out a hand. “Let me see it.”

There went the hope. With a tentative smile, I held out my left arm.

Laetatia’s mouth twitched. “Your flesh one, please.”

I exhaled and obeyed. She took my wrist and examined my hand where Itazura’s mark remained, a thin silver line.

“That’s what I thought.” She released my hand. “Itazura, get in here. Now.”

Itazura appeared on the windowsill, faking a yawn. “Hello Lae. How are you this fine early morning? Fancy running into you. I was just passing by and–”

“Cut the crap.” Laetatia nodded at me. “You made a pact with a human. A dangerous pact. You’re really using humans now to disobey Mother and Father? That’s pretty low.”

“That’s what I said,” I muttered.

“I’m not
using
her. I offered to take her out of an undesirable situation for a small price,” Itazura said.

“The price of letting you use me.” I leaned forward, but upon doing so, my vision swam again. Maybe lying down was smarter.

“Why are you doing this?” Laetatia demanded.

“I would tell you,” Itazura said. “Unfortunately my lips have been sealed on that
topic
. I can’t even say the word when in the presence of another god. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Laetatia observed him with narrowed eyes for a long moment before she snapped her fingers. “I grant you permission to speak of the apocalypse to me.”

Itazura beamed. “Aw, thanks sis.”

“Don’t make me regret it.” Laetatia leaned back in her chair. “Usually I’d rather shut you up than give you permission to talk. Say something worth listening to.”

“That’s a laugh,” I muttered under my breath.

Itazura ignored me. “We’re playing right into the Elder God’s hands, Laetatia. They’re smart. They wouldn’t attempt this plan without a full set of gears. We think they don’t have enough power to challenge the realm of the gods. But what if they find a way?”

“How?” Laetatia asked.

“By gaining worshipers in the human realms when we turn our back on them,” Itazura said. “Worship gives us a portion of our power, Laetatia. They’ll grow in strength.”

“If the elder gods smite the human realms, there won’t be anyone to give them worship.”

“That’s not their plan.” Itazura said.

My eyebrows shot up. What did he mean that wasn’t their plan? That’s
exactly
what he told me their plan was.

“They’ll cause destruction, yes, but their real goal is to turn the human realms to their side. They knew we’d withdraw into the realm of the gods and wait out the apocalypse. And while we do nothing, they’ll make their move. They’re chaotic, but they’re not stupid.”

“Since when did you get so strategic?” Laetatia raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve always been strategic. You’ve just never appreciated my intelligence.” Itazura straightened, crossing his arms.