Of Green Men they’d built a few thousand—fertility and fortune made Green Men a popular template for trusts and estates work. The Green Man Kai sought had a skull for a face: decay and birth together, which narrowed things down. The nebula of Green Men whirled, and parted. Thirty left out of four hundred. Yes, that was the one: with long hands, clawed like a bear’s for digging. As Margot said.

The Green Man was less subtle even than the Squid: nine months ago, a sudden blaze of emerald fire in the deep, a drumming heartbeat, a smile that was the sun’s first breath above horizon, a smell that made Kai’s heart skip. Her body twitched and rolled to the dance of him; then he died, fast and sad as a candle covered. His rhythm stopped, and he was a mannequin again.

How long had this been happening?

What was “this,” even? Gods born from idols, mayfly deities who took flight only to perish.

“Kai?”

Teo’s voice, down from invisible heights.

“Kai, can you show me the goddesses in eclipse?”

Spinning one part of the un-world, holding another steady, might have challenged most theologians. Not Kai.

“Thank you.”

She formed a bubble of “You’re welcome,” and floated it back to distant light.

No time to check every idol in this pool. Fortunately, time didn’t work the same way down here.

She crossed her legs, let her eyes drift half-shut, and forgot time.

Gravity was an old habit, time older still. Kai did not exhale. Her heart did not beat. Time was a mirror dropped spinning from a height: it turned on three axes, and touching ground erupted into shards.

Her eyes snapped open, and she saw:

Imagine a line of amber drops, each with an insect trapped inside at a different stage of life, from larva to adulthood to husk. Fold this amber together, like a cross of squares folding to make a cube, or a cross of cubes to make a tesseract. A single honey-colored oval containing all moments at once.

Constellations charged the dark, jewel nets melded to a mother-of-pearl sheen. And there they hung: shining shapes against the background noise of transaction and half-formed faith.

Gods. More than that: idols, become gods.

She heard their voices then.

Whispers she took at first for wind. Consonants like falling rocks, hurricane vowels. Weeping, some. Conspiring, others. Wheedling. Promising.

Immortality if you only follow

Your soul will burn from

We all must sacrifice

There is a greater truth

We cannot stay here forever

Freedom within our grasp

Get me out of here

No no no no no no

Your gift will be honored

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