Harvest Moon: A Tangled Web / Cast in Moonlight / Retribution. Michelle Sagara
so how long do you think it will be before conditions get dire? A week? Less? More?”
“For the humans, a week, perhaps two.” Hecate nodded. “They will be frightened within a few days when blossoms wither and fruit and vegetables do not ripen. For animals, the grass-eating ones at least, it will take a bit longer before they begin to starve. For the Otherfolk…I am not sure.”
“Who’s in charge of wild animals?” he demanded, looking around at the bewildered deities. “You’re all gods, so presumably you have the duties and patronage all divided up. At least, that’s how things usually go.”
“Ah, I suppose that would be me,” replied a young woman in an abbrieviated tunic, her hair cropped short, with a bow and arrows on her back. “And Pan, perhaps. Crius is in charge of domestic animals. I’m more of a huntress, but I’d better work with Pan to be sure he doesn’t get distracted and forget what we’re supposed to do.” Her brows furrowed. “So what are we supposed to do?”
By this point all of the gods had gathered about him and Hecate; it was very clear that while they were completely willing to do what he told them, none of them had the faintest ideas of their own. At least they’d all seen the gravity of the situation at once. They could very well have taken the attitude that “what happens to the mortals doesn’t concern us, there will be more along soon enough if this lot dies.”
“You’ll have to come up with some sort of way to awaken the wild things’ instincts about winter,” he told her. “Maybe you can borrow the memories of animals from outside your borders where there are seasons, but it has to be done if you don’t want all your wildlife dying off. Can this be done by means of a spell or something?”
He looked to Hecate, who nodded.
“I think I can do that, with Pan and Artemis taking part in the ritual,” she replied. “And I will tell Crius that we must do—what, with the flocks and herds? The pasturage won’t last long once the grass stops growing.”
“Let me think…” He massaged his temples with his fingers. He considered himself a quick thinker, but this was a bit like being thrown into the deep ocean and told you were going to have to reason your way to land. “Your neighbors…are they friendly?”
“Mostly absent,” Zeus answered immediately. “The lands around Olympia are largely wilderness. Not nearly as lush as our land, nor as fertile, so mortals who are near the border tend to decide to join us,” he added with great pride—but then his face sobered as he remembered who was responsible for the lush fields.
“As your land was. It won’t be in a few weeks. Well, that is perfect. Tell Crius he must speak with the herders—and with the herds to get them to cooperate with their keepers. Some sort of pronouncement from the clouds or something outrageous to get the attention of the mortals. The point is, they need to be impressed with the urgency of this situation and begin to move the herds of this land across the border until you have gotten Demeter back to her duty.” He spoke, and suddenly realized that he didn’t sound like himself at all. His air of authority, his steadiness, were not like careless Prince Leopold, but rather like his father…
Hell. I’m turning into Papa.
“It will take time, of course,” he added, quickly driving that uncomfortable thought out of his head, “but they can afford to go slowly, and take what grazing they can find until they reach a good place to stop. It’s late spring out there, so they’ll be all right for several moons. Let us hope this situation doesn’t persist until winter.”
Instinctively they were all turning toward him, as to the only person who seemed to have any ideas about what to do in this situation. Even Zeus. I am standing here giving orders to gods… It would have been a heady thought, except that this lot of “gods” seemed to be as feckless as a lot of young squires.
“As for the inhabitants of Olympia, I suggest you inform those creatures that are not mortal to seek the Fae realms for now, unless they want to begin starving. They can come back once Demeter returns.” He made a wry face. “I don’t suppose any of you have Fae allies? Or still are in contact with your parents?”
Zeus flushed, a few of the gods looked puzzled, as if his words made no sense to them. It was Zeus who answered.
“We…” He coughed. “As a whole we have tended to avoid the Fae.”
“You have,” Hera replied tartly. “Not all of us are so shortsighted.” She turned to Leo. “Would you have us seek out our relatives, mortal?”
He nodded. “You’re going to have to get food from somewhere. In the short term, see if you can find some Fae to supply something that mortals can eat safely. They’re Fae though, they won’t have the patience to put up with this for too long, you gods are supposed to be taking the place of Godmothers, not mucking things up. The good ones will wash their hands of you pretty quickly. The bad ones…well, I understand you fought them once already. So you know they’ll take advantage.” He rubbed his temples again. “You are going to have to find a way to buy food from outside your borders. And transport it.”
“I can help there.” The lively fellow with a look of mischief and little wings on his sandals and odd flat helmet had lost his smile, trading it for a look of determination. “I am the god of merchants as well as speed. I myself have never bargained before, but you might say it is in my blood.”
“I’ll bring that out in you with another spell, Hermes,” said Hecate. “And I am sure Hephaestus can come up with all manner of things you can barter with. Gold certainly.”
“We can get the Giants to help with moving the food you buy.” The speaker was a voluptuous woman that Leopold was resolutely not looking directly at. The moment she had joined the group, he’d had to keep himself under very tight restraint, because it was pretty clear what this lady was the patron of. “They won’t say no to me.”
“Nothing male will say no to you, Aphrodite,” Hera replied with a touch of venom. Aphrodite just smiled lazily.
“And right now,” she purred, “even you will admit that is a very good thing.”
Leo decided that he had better get between the two of them before something erupted that would distract all of the gods. “All right then. The sooner you get going, the least harm will come of this,” Leopold interjected. He gave Zeus a look. “And your king and I will sit down and work out more detailed plans, while the rest of you take care of the immediate situation.”
Zeus nodded. “Winter…we just never had to think about such a thing before,” he said weakly. “Demeter always kept things under control.”
“If I have learned one thing in my short mortal life, King of the Olympians, it is that nothing lasts forever,” Leo retorted. “And if I have learned another—it is that those who rule a land are responsible for it. Especially when things go wrong.”
“You should be a philosopher,” Zeus said glumly, and motioned for him to follow.
Demeter had experienced many emotions in her long life, but grief was new to her, and so painful that it overwhelmed her in every possible way. And now she was so lost in her grief that she was not sure where she was going, only that she needed to leave Olympia, for it had become a terrible and alien place to her. The other gods, who should have been her allies, were clearly not going to help her get her Kore back. Zeus had probably been in favor of this from the beginning!
Her grief was deepened by that betrayal.
She could not believe that her golden girl had gone with grim Hades of her own free will. He must have bewitched her somehow, and they were unwilling to admit it. Perhaps some of them had even helped him—she wouldn’t have put it past Aphrodite to work her magic just for the sake of the mischief it would cause.
And as soon as Kore was carried beneath the earth, such enchantment would never last. How could Kore, who loved to laugh and frolic in the sun, ever find Hades and his sunless realm attractive, even under the most persuasive of Aphrodite’s magics? She