SCENE: THE CIRCUS TENT IN GREY SCALE. THE FLOOR NEAR THE CAGE IN THE MIDDLE WHERE A RAGGED BUNCH OF GREY BLANKETS ARE PILED. (OF COURSE THEY'RE GREY. EVERYTHING'S GREY. THERE'S NOT EVEN ANY BLACK OR WHITE. BUT THESE LOOK LIKE THEY'D BE GREY [OR POSSIBLY DIRTY BROWN] EVEN IF THE WORLD WAS IN COLOR AROUND HERE.) THE PILE MOVES, SHIFTS, AND THEN WORKS ITSELF ALONG THE GROUND UNTIL IT FINDS A MORE COMFORTABLE SPOT. A BLACK CAT COMES BY TO SNIFF AT THE PILE, THEN CIRCLES IT A FEW TIMES. IT POKES INTO THE BLANKETS WITH ITS NOSE, AND A HAND FLOPS AT IT, TRYING TO SHOO IT. IT POKES HARDER, AND FINALLY BITES THE HAND SAVAGELY. THE HAND JERKS, AND AMARANTHA SITS UP WITHOUT MAKING A SOUND. SHE GLARES AT THE CAT, THEN SULLENLY SAYS:

Amarantha: Hello, Hermes.

THE CAT SHIFTS FORM, RESOLVING INTO A HUMANOID AS BLACK AS THE CAT, BUT DRESSED IN HUNDREDS OF WHITE WINGS.

Hermes: Hey, Amy-Amara, how are you doing?

Amarantha: You didn't have to bite me.

Hermes: Sure I did. You weren't waking up. How else was it supposed to work?

Amarantha: By having a larger body that could shake me more vigorously?

Hermes: Right. I'll remember that next time. Anyway, how've you been?

Amarantha: Sleepy. I'm a siren. I need sleep. I just laid down, and you had to come . . . (wakes up a little more) no, you pay attention to me, or else . . .

HERMES IS LOOKING INTO THE CAGE CURIOUSLY, OBSERVING THE PILE OF BLANKETS THAT ARE OBVIOUSLY OF MUCH BETTER QUALITY THAN THE ONES OUTSIDE. THEY'RE EMBROIDERED AND PLUSH. THE ONES AMARANTHA HAS ARE THIN AND TORN.

Hermes: Or else what? You'll sing at me? What have you got there?

Amarantha: (shrugs) Human kid.

Hermes: (staring at her incredulously) A mortal?

Amarantha: (defensively) I'm mortal.

Hermes: Not as mortal. You're only ninety. You're good for a million years. Two or three million. To a human, you might as well be immortal.

Amarantha: His name's Max.

Hermes: Max what?

Amarantha: (suddenly very interested in one of the tears on the fabric) I don't remember.

THE TEAR MENDS ITSELF, THREADS WINDING TOGETHER. AMARANTHA BECOMES VERY INVOLVED WITH FIXING ALL THERE RIPS, AND THERE ARE A LOT OF THEM TO FIX, SO SHE HAS AN EXCUSE FOR BEING ABSORBED.

Hermes: No need to be superstitious about human's names. They're not like elves and ghosts.

Amarantha: (mumbles) Any name has power. Anyway, I don't remember.

Hermes: Well, never mind him, then. When are you coming back?

Amarantha: (still mumbling) Back where?

Hermes: To Olympus! Wait'll you hear what I talked Eros into doing . . .

Amarantha: (clearly, with intent to interrupt) I'm coming back when I'm done helping my aunt.

Hermes: What? Which aunt? The one whose whirlpool isn't working?

Amarantha: No, no, the svartalf. Amy.

Hermes: They're never letting her back, Amy-Amara. Not after Urda's Well, and that scene at Asgard. She's a liability. She's going to die before she sees her homeland again.

Amarantha: Well, there are ways of getting in without permission.

Hermes: Amarantha! You wouldn't!

Amarantha: Would. You doubt me?

Hermes: How?

Amarantha: Well, for one thing, everyone has a price.

Hermes: Not Heimdall.

Amarantha: Everyone. Of course, Heimdall's price might be to spare the life of someone, if I had it in my power to kill that person, so it might be difficult to meet his price without getting into so much trouble that it's better to run than travel Yggdrasil and Bifrost.

Hermes: You're obviously not going to pay off Heimdall. So . . .

Amarantha: Sleep spells are easy.

Hermes: On those who sleep. A lot of those Norse gods and demi-gods don't.

Amarantha: There are still those near-death spells.

Hermes: Which all-too-easily become real death, and land the two of you on the run again. Norse gods do die. That's why they're around. To die. I, on the other hand, exist solely to make the world a better place by bestowing my self upon it.

Amarantha: You're around to lie and cheat.

Hermes: Same thing. Well, not really. Well, you do the same! What's another way?

Amarantha: Sneak past.

Hermes: Again, we are discussing Heimdall.

Amarantha: There are invisibility spells, if we can find one that works on Heimdall. Or, we could use a key, bypassing Heimdall altogether. Hey, Hermes, promise me something?

Hermes: Well . . .

Amarantha: Well?

Hermes: Can I see you beg a little first?

Amarantha: Let me think. No. Besides, it's not necessary, and I'm sure that, having promised, it'll only make you want to find a way to keep the letter while going against the spirit.

Hermes: Oh, come on, Amy, you know I'd never do that to you.

Amarantha: Well, you're not getting away with it twice, because I'm not giving you another opportunity.

Hermes: No, no, no, no, wait, look. What if I keep the other promise?

Amarantha: Well, being a god, I'm sure you can. Would you?

Hermes: Um . . . it's a little difficult. I'll look into it. Just make me promise the other promise, okay?

Amarantha: What if I just tell you what it was, and you can find a way to get around it without ever having made the promise?

Hermes: Even better.

Amarantha: And then you'll let me sleep?

Hermes: Certainly.

Amarantha: Don't interfere.

Hermes: "Don't interfere." I'll see what I can do.

Amarantha: And you're going to try to keep your other promise.

Hermes: Of course.

Amarantha: And I have a certain punishment in mind for when you interfere without interfering. I tell you just so you know.

Hermes: Why don't you take care of it now, so we don't have to wait?

Amarantha: Oh, no. In this case, the wait is part of the fun. I get to anticipate it. And afterwards, I'll get to savor it, because it's going to last a long time. You see, Amy's going to be very mad at me when she finds out, so I have to make sure that she'll be satisfied with the revenge.

Hermes: Wow. Will I be able to repeat it on someone?

Amarantha: I'm not saying. I will mention one thing, though.

Hermes: What's that?

Amarantha: Don't call me 'Amy' these days. Very undignified. If Amy's ever around with me, you and I will be in trouble.

Hermes: But she's not my beloved!

Amarantha: Neither am I.

Hermes: Uh, right.

Amarantha: I'm sleepy.

Hermes: Right. Well, see you when I don't interfere!

HE CHANGES INTO A FALCON, WHICH DARTS OVER TO A FLAP IN THE TENT, WALKS THROUGH, AND IS OUT OF SIGHT. AMARANTHA BURIES HERSELF UNDER THE BLANKETS, WHICH ARE STILL PLAIN BUT NOW DECENT, AGAIN.

~

Return to the fanfic page
Return to the Duchy