In a conference hall in Heaven:
“And that is why I believe that it is wrong for the Kitchen God – the ‘Divine Intercessor,’ as he now insists on being called –to circumvent all proper protocol to found a personal cult on Earth and reap its offerings behind our backs,” finished the Goddess of Life.
Aurelia took a sip of tea instead of joining in the other Bureau Directors’ and Assistant Directors’ chorus of approval. Or, rather, disapproval of the Kitchen God’s actions. If they’d bothered paying any attention to him over the millennia, she thought wryly, they’d have realized that he couldn’t have devised the idea of a temple network or implemented it himself. But until recently, he’d been as close to a non-entity as any Bureau Director could get. He visited Heaven so rarely that his colleagues didn’t bother to factor him into their rivalries and alliances.
And now they were scrambling.
The Duchess of Lightning, Assistant Director of the Ministry of Weather, offered the Goddess of Life a saccharine smile. “It is a pity, isn’t it, that you left the Bureau of Reincarnation just before this windfall of offerings?”
At the reminder that the Goddess of Life could have shared in her erstwhile Director’s newfound wealth if she hadn’t fought so hard for her own bureau, the other Assistant Directors smirked.
From the way the Goddess of Life’s fingers closed around her armrest, Aurelia guessed that she ached to call for her willow branch and cast the Duchess of Lightning into the cycle of reincarnation, just like Marcius. The Duchess of Lightning was another deified human, a young woman whom the Duke of Thunder had killed by accident during a storm. In His infinite mercy, the Jade Emperor had transformed her into a goddess so that she might illuminate the scene for the Duke before he hurled his thunderbolt.
“Where is your successor in the Bureau of Reincarnation anyway?” inquired the God of Culture, the Director of the Bureau of Academia – he who had petitioned to eject Marcius from Heaven in the first place.
For some reason, all eyes turned to Aurelia. Setting down her teacup so gently that the porcelain didn’t so much as clink, she gave him a tranquil smile. “I have no idea. Perhaps the Star of Heavenly Joy is otherwise occupied. Or perhaps the invitation to this conversation among equals went astray.” She arched an eyebrow at the Goddess of Life, who had sent aforementioned invitations.
The Goddess of Life returned a smile as serene as the statues of her on Earth. “I’m sure he is otherwise occupied, simultaneously filling in for his absent Director and overseeing the management of the cultists’ offerings. I do empathize.”
“We’re getting off track. Didn’t you call this meeting to discuss the Kitchen God’s violation of protocol in setting up a personal cult?” asked the Minister of Agriculture, the Farmer God.
“There is nothing in the laws of Heaven against setting up a personal cult,” pointed out the God of Examinations, the Assistant Director of the Bureau of Academia. “In fact, depending on how one defines the term, one might argue that all of us have cults devoted to our worship. It is simply that up until this point, they have been nebulous and unstructured and highly specialized to the individual human, who worships a multitude of gods and goddesses and who makes offerings depending on his or her current needs….”
They let him drone on in that vein while the star sprites replenished the tea and platters of little cakes. By the time the rest of them felt refreshed, he was winding down too.
“So what do you want from us, young lady? Get to the point,” snapped Aurelia’s own Director at the Bureau of the Sky, who seemed to have woken up from a nap. The Queen Mother of the West was nearly as old as the sky itself and had a mother-in-law’s tendency to get crabby.
The Goddess of Life was spared from having to spell out what she wanted by the Farmer God, who was nearly as old and just as venerated as the Queen Mother of the West. “Isn’t it obvious? She wants us to act in concert to shut down this ‘Temple to the Kitchen God’.”
“The Kitchen God isn’t violating any laws,” objected the God of Examinations. “I don’t see what grounds we could use to shut down this new mode of worship.”
There was a pause in which everyone else mentally rolled their eyes. Of course he didn’t want to ban personal temples. He was probably already scheming how to get all the scholars and students on Earth to set up a temple to him.
“Lady Fate? What have you foreseen?” Aurelia couldn’t help needling the goddess who’d stayed uncharacteristically quiet.
Lady Fate took a lofty sip of tea with her pinky sticking straight out. “The matter will resolve itself in due course. I see no cause for concern.”
Meaning she hadn’t foreseen this development. Or that she had and liked the course it would take, but didn’t want the rest of them to know. With her, it was impossible to tell.
“Well, Fate has spoken,” proclaimed the Queen Mother of the West. She rose from her chair, forcing the rest of them to stand as well.
“But – ” protested the Goddess of Life.
“We will monitor the situation,” the Farmer God told her in a kindly voice. “You may bring it up again at our next meeting. If it still gives us cause for concern then, we will discuss the steps necessary to address it.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
And with that, the meeting dispersed without resolving anything.
From the distant, thoughtful expressions on the faces of Aurelia’s colleagues, though, she had no doubt that they were already plotting their own ways to address the issue. One way or another, by the next formal meeting of all the Directors and Assistant Directors, the existence of the Kitchen God’s temple would have ceased to be a “cause for concern.”
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A little later in Heaven:
The Goddess of Life waited on the white bridge that arched over the Azure Lake. Her silks drifted in the evening breeze as her handmaidens crumbled leftover teacakes for the carp below. A sinuous, maned figure rose from the depths, scattering the fish. The last rays of light reflected off his scales and the massive pearl beneath his chin.
“Dragon Commander,” said the Goddess of Life, inclining her head to him.
“Goddess of Life,” rumbled the ruler of all dragons. “What brings you to seek me?”
“I believe you have heard of the cult that the Kitchen God has created to hoard all human offerings?”
Teeth flashed in the gathering dusk. “I have heard something to that effect, yes.”
“I have investigated the situation, and I believe I have discovered a way to remedy it….”
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In Flying Fish Village:
“How dare you, human girl?”
Stripey and I were returning to Flying Fish Village from a nice flight when the foxling’s shrill voice pierced my ears. Without a thought, I folded my wings and dove.
In the screw pine forest next to the village, the foxling had backed Lodia against a tree and was screeching in the girl’s face. “You realize what you had the temerity to do, right, human girl? You did exactly what Jullie in Goldhill accused Anthea of doing. You’re pretending that your little temple has real power. You’re attempting to set it up as a rival to the throne!”
Lodia had pressed her back against the layer of aerial roots that surrounded the trunk. If she cringed any harder, she was either going to vanish between the roots or push the tree clean over. Her head was lowered, so I couldn’t make out what she whispered. Whatever it was didn’t appease the foxling, though.
“I should devour you for that, human girl!”
Okay, enough was enough. I zipped down, crash-landed on the crown of Lodia’s head, raised my wings threateningly, and asked in my coldest tone, What, may I ask, is going on here?
Under normal circumstances, that was the foxling’s cue to grovel and babble apologies before fleeing with all five tails tucked behind her legs. These, apparently, were not a normal circumstances.
Backing up a few steps, she stabbed an accusing finger at Lodia. The nail on it was pointy and claw-like. “She – she – she stole my moment! She stole my announcement! She acted like she had the right to announce the re-founding of the Serican Empire! I’m the Empress of all Serica, and she’s pretending that she approved it! That she has a right to approve it!”
Gods and demons, I supposed it had been too much to hope that the foxling had missed Lodia’s foray into court politics. Then again, since aforementioned foray had been about as subtle as a Burning Column heated to glowing hot and all set for an execution, I supposed I should have expected some sort of reaction.
I fluffed up all my feathers to make myself as large as possible. What makes you believe that this was not all part of Lady Piri’s plan?
“Because it can’t be! There’s no way it can be! Lady Piri didn’t – doesn’t – set up humans as rivals to foxes! She ate them! Look what happened to Cassius’ empress!”
I had not, in fact, eaten any part of Aurelia in the literal sense. (Just part of her ally Marcius. And just his heart, at that. It was so miniscule a fraction of his total body mass that it barely counted.)
Clearly you grasp nothing of Lady Piri’s plans for Serica.
“Her plan is to reunify all of Serica under a true fox empress, which is ME! How am I supposed to rule if humans like HER are going to set up Temples to challenge my rule?!”
I scoffed. Clearly you have much to learn about ruling if you believe that no one is ever going to challenge your authority. Did none of your demon vassals ever overstep?
“Of course not! Because whenever they did, I ate them!”
Well. That was a very properly demonic way to resolve problems. I nearly applauded her approach before I remembered that I could not allow her to apply her preferred method of conflict resolution going forward. Especially since the first person to whom she would apply it would be Lodia. Who, I noted, hadn’t dared to lift her head yet – but hadn’t tried to flee either.
The strategy of eating anyone who dares tell you something you don’t want to hear might have worked for a fox queen in the Wilds, but it will not work for an empress of Serica. If you execute all those who tell you unpleasant truths, you will only set yourself up to be deposed.
I would know. It was precisely what I had encouraged and goaded Cassius into doing. The foxling would do well to write that down in that notebook of hers.
Unfortunately, even another pearl of wisdom from her idol couldn’t distract her from the original source of her ire.
“But she’s not telling me something I need to know for my own good! She’s acting like the Temple to the Kitchen God is the equal of the throne of Serica! Like the Matriarch has the right to approve the Empress of Serica! Are you telling me that’s what Lady Piri wants?”
Manners, manners.
I glared at her until she took a few deep breaths to calm herself.
“Forgive me. I did not mean to shout at the representative of Lady Piri.”
I didn’t tell her she was forgiven. An empress must maintain control of her emotions at all times. I waited until she nodded – a little sulkily, but it would suffice. Now, as to your…question about what Lady Piri wants, do not presume to think that you know even the tiniest fraction of what she has planned. (Mostly because I was working out my plan as I went.) The Temple to the Kitchen God is her creation, and Koh Lodia is her choice of Matriarch. You would do well to remember THAT the next time your fangs get twitchy, Sphaera Algarum.
In a flash, the foxling’s pout transformed into a bright, open-mouthed expression of awe. “I understand now! She doesn’t want just one power in all of Serica! She wants many powers that she can play against one another so she can balance them all! I’m one of them, and so is that – ” she swallowed what she’d been about to say – “the Matriarch!”
That hadn’t been consciously what I’d had in mind, but sure. Who was to say that my subconscious hadn’t been hard at work developing a system of checks and balances for the New Empire?
You begin to grasp the contours of my mistress’ plan.
“Yes! Yes! I see!” She bowed deeply to me. “Thank you for enlightening me! I must write this all down!”
And off she dashed, her paltry five tails aflutter.
Once I was sure that she wouldn’t pop back in to ask me to repeat any of what I’d just said, I lifted off from Lodia’s head and flew around to meet her eyes.
Well, that’s that dealt with. Next time, Lodia, run your speech by us before you make it.
She bobbled her head, but for some reason, I wasn’t entirely convinced that she would obey.