“Do you need a bag for that, Gilla?” The stocky clerk’s warm smile split his thick, sandy beard, as warm as his rich voice.

Gilla shook her head as she reached into her pocket and pulled out some coins to count out the payment. She stopped, mesmerized once again by the large gold coin that dominated those of silver and copper. A blessing, the goddess Rhea had called it when she had placed it into Gilla’s hand just a few minutes ago. The eye in the center of a symbol for luck—a dandelion with a key for a stem—seemed to pierce into Gilla’s soul.

“You’ll want to hang onto that one,” he said, causing Gilla to jump. “I won’t accept it as payment. Can’t let you blow something that special on snacks.”

Returning his smile, she put the large coin back in her pocket and handed him the rest. “I wouldn’t dare.”

He nodded, counting what she had given him. “Good. Now get back out there before they leave. That bunch is getting mighty big.”

Gilla glanced out the store’s front windows to the massive crowd in the park across the street.

The clerk snorted. “Gods. Can’t say I’ve ever heard of any of them showing up around these parts, and I’ve lived here a long time … not sure if that’s something to brag about. But you would have figured at least one of them would have stopped by at some point earlier with the hot springs and all.” He paused and winked at Gilla with a twinkle in his eye. “You had better hurry along. Seeing a god is one of them once-in-a-lifetime events. For people around here, at least. Not something you wanna miss for a moment! You never know what might happen when you aren’t there.”

“What about you?” she started, then continued when he raised a bushy brow at her question. “Aren’t going to go see them?”

Removing a laminated wooden pipe from his shirt pocket—the knuckles on his hand like the knots of a tree—he used the bit to shoo her toward the door. “Oh, I’ll be along soon enough. Go on now.”

Gilla snatched her purchases off the counter and rushed out the door, only to stop again on the sidewalk just outside. The size of the crowd in the park stunned her. It must have grown twice as large since she had entered the store. A din of anxious pleas and murmurs reverberated off the storefronts, emanating from a mass of townsfolk consisting mostly of the marin race, with ears like mice, and pointy-eared squallet folk, whose large bushy tails added to the density of the crowd. The occasional long ears of a bunica towered above the rest in shades of brown and gray. She subconsciously rubbed the tips of her own short, furry ears.

Stepping out from under the shop’s awning, Gilla squinted against the intense morning light and weaved her way across the road. Vehicles bordered both sides of the streets encompassing the park, and the streets for several blocks in every direction, as far as she could see. Some had driven up onto the curb in their haste, and others parked so poorly they partly blocked traffic, or would have if there were not already vehicles abandoned in the middle of the road.

Once at the park, she pushed her way through the throng of bodies until she found her way back to her friend Jonnathan on the far side. His tall brown ears were easily apparent above most of the heads. Rhea had been encompassed against the park’s large fountain, yet given a wide berth as if the people wanted to be near her while also afraid to get too close. The townsfolk echoed each other as they fought for her attention, the clearing around her a gaping maw ravenous for her blessings.

“Patience, everyone. I will do what I can,” the goddess said with a kind smile that lit up her face. Even smooth and gentle, Rhea’s voice was audible above the crowd and held a measure of command. She moved along the crowd, handing out blessings like the one she had given Gilla earlier. For each person, Rhea assiduously reached into the beaded pouch at her waist to only remove a single coin, as if every coin was unique and precious. Her gold-speckled skin and the medallions threaded on thin chains through her curly blonde hair glimmered in the sunlight. The way she swayed as she moved caused the medallions on her belt and necklace to jingle with each step, and though she wore a bright yellow halter top and white shorts no fancier than anything the townsfolk owned, she was more magnificent than anyone Gilla had ever seen.

Rhea paused suddenly with a coin hovering over a man’s hand. She slowly scanned the crowd until she locked eyes with Gilla, vibrant emerald pools that bored deep into her soul. Gilla’s mouth went dry, and anxiety rose within her, but could not break away from the goddess’s entrancing gaze. Rhea’s expression sank to sadness.

“Hey,” Jonnathan said as a greeting, breaking Gilla’s focus. She blinked, and the goddess’s attention had returned to the man and those around him who were eagerly awaiting their blessings as if nothing had happened.

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“Have you seen my dad yet?” Gilla wiped off the sweat that had beaded on her forehead and handed him his share of the snacks. “He should have been here by now. I don’t want him to miss his chance.” Her head swiveled around, craning to see as many faces in the crowd as possible before returning to his. “And why haven’t you been healed, yet? It should have been your turn by now. What happened to the line?”

The lanky young man paused in the middle of taking a bite and shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m having second thoughts. I’m not sure if I want to anymore. Pana is kind of scary,” he said, pointing to the other goddess who had arrived with Rhea.

When Gilla had left him earlier that morning, Jonnathan had stayed in the long line to be healed, but that line seemed to have become disheveled since then. It had led to Pana, the eidolon of health and disease, who sat on the edge of the fountain with her arms folded. A grimace distorted her face, half of which was covered by a fine but plain bright red cloth. Almost everything about Pana was plain, from her long gray t-shirt to her work pants and heavy boots. Only the cloth and the leather sword belt buckled over her shirt, inlaid with silver vines and leaves, stood out against the rest. Every time she was asked, Pana huffed in annoyance before reluctantly pricking or tapping someone with her very thin sword—which reminded Gilla of a needle—decorated with red snakes spiraling around the hilt. Few townsfolk were brave enough to ask. Many others, like Jonnathan, had stepped out of the line.

“I see what you mean. But don’t be a baby,” she said and gestured to his gimp leg. Their town had a decent doctor, but their magic and techniques were better suited for healing recent injuries and sicknesses. “You probably will never get another chance to—”

A woman next to them suddenly cried out for Rhea, startling Gilla so much so that she dropped her snacks.

The crowd had been relatively calm and patient all morning, albeit with eager, begging eyes, when Rhea was looking, but when her head was turned, they grew ever more restless. Some refused to leave after they had received their blessing, blocking others from obtaining their own. Gilla could understand; this might be the only direct interaction with a god any of the townspeople might ever have, even she felt enthralled to be as close to the goddesses as possible, even cranky Pana, but Gilla would never try to rob someone else of that experience.

“Oops. Let me help with that,” Jonnathan said. Hobbling forward, he struggled against his bad leg to reach the ground, swiping at the fallen snacks with his fingertips.

Gilla shooed him away. “You just stand there and wait to be healed.” She knelt in the grass, but before she could grab them, the crowd began to shuffle, people jostling each other as they demanded to receive their blessing before others, and her snacks were trampled. Scrambling to her feet, she put herself as a shield between her friend and the trouble.

The impatience and shoving intensified until a fight broke out. Jonnathan tugged on Gilla’s shirt, urging her to back away from the mob with him. They moved toward the street as the mob turn violent, escalating from pushing to flying fists. Rhea stopped handing out coins and withdrew from the frenzy. She tried to calm them, but no one was listening. The fight spilled into her clearing, until a woman was thrown toward the fountain and fell onto Rhea herself.

“Back off!” Pana shouted. Her roar resonated through the park as she launched off of the fountain’s edge. She charged her way through the mob, knocking over waves of people in her rush. Lifting the fallen woman into the air with one arm, Pana flailed her sword toward the crowd with the other. “How dare you insolent filth! Have you no respect? I should destroy you all right here and now!”

The villagers cowered back, some trampling others to the ground in their effort to flee.

“Easy, Pana. It was an accident,” Rhea said, placing her hands on the angry goddess’s arm to lower the weapon. The woman hanging by her wrist nodded fervently. “Put the innocent woman down and let us just be on our way.”

“No!” people cried in fearful whispers. Gilla had joined them, her heart leaping into her chest. Plenty had yet to receive their blessing, and her father and Jonnathan had not been healed. They would likely never get another chance.

Pana snorted and dropped the woman, who scrambled to the safety of the crowd. “Serves you all right.”

With Rhea tugging on Pana’s arm, the two goddesses headed toward the road out of town, leaving a stunned crowd. Pana shoved hastily parked vehicles out of her way and did not watch for traffic, causing a car to screech to a stop as she crossed, which received a threatening bellow and a pointed sword from the goddess.

Many of the townsfolk seemed ready to chase after them, but no one took more than a step in that direction before their shoulders dropped. A somber mood hung over the crowd as the people dispersed. Those who had received their blessings clutched them, their heads swiveling in worry that others might try to take them, but no one was interested in fighting any longer.

Gilla, on the other hand, could feel her temper rising, but she did not care, and stomped her foot in frustration. “C’mon. We’re going after them.”

A bite of his snack half way to his lips, Jonnathan blinked in surprise before replying. “Wait, what? Are you nuts?”

“Maybe, but we’re going to get you healed,” she said before she grabbed Jonnathan by the shoulders and started pushing him in the direction they had left. It pained her to abandon her father’s chance at recovery, but it was too late. She would see Jonnathan healed, at least. “At least you.”