(When all of them, those gods who appear in their revolutions, as well as those other gods who appear at will had come into being, the creator of the universe addressed them the following)
Aphrodite swallowed as the thirteen members of the Council filed in, each sliding behind their chairs – well, all save Kunapipi, who simply floated in the space afforded her. They sat as one, as if they had choreographed their motions; as they sat down, the sober, dark man at the center of the semicircle spoke.
“You may be seated,” he said, in an accent not very different from the one Mami Wata affected. “The Council of Thirteen is now in session, a majority of its members being present, we shall first open with daily business, followed by the expedited petition in the case of Aphrodite v. Hephaestus. The Chair recognizes the distinguished Chair Emeritus.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chair,” said Yhwh, stroking his long, white beard. “I request the call of the roll.”
“To what purpose?”
“We have quite a full house today, and I believe that a more formal introduction is warranted.”
“Because we are Gods, and we wish to be loved, you mean,” Anansi said, waggishly. “Very well, the distinguished Chair Emeritus has requested a formal call of the roll, are there three seconds?” Eleven Gods raised their hands. “Clearly three second, the Chief of Staff shall call the roll.”
St. Peter, who was sitting at a desk behind the chair, straightened up and intoned, “Allah, God of the Muslims.”
“Here,” said the God sitting at Yhwh's left. He could have been Yhwh's twin – which, of course, he was. Only the somewhat darker beard betrayed any difference between the God of the Jews and the God of the Muslims.
“Siddhārtha Gautama, Gautama Buddha.”
“I am present,” said a fat, smiling Indian sitting stage left.
“Christ Jesus of Nazareth, Trinitarian God of the Christians.”
“Here,” said a younger Semitic God, sitting at the right hand of Yhwh.
“Izanami-no-Mikoto, Japanese Goddess of Creation and Death.”
“Yes, I am here.” Aphrodite was stunned at Izanami-no-Mikoto's visage, which was corpselike and decaying; she knew that the Goddess could appear however she wanted to. She was surprised she chose such a frightening display.
“Freyja Njörðrsdottir, Norse Goddess of Love.”
“Here,” said Freyja, and she gave Aphrodite a smile. The blond Amazon was radiant, as always; Aphrodite made a mental note to discuss the poetry of Sappho with her after this trial was concluded.
“Athena Pallas Athene, Greek Goddess of War and Wisdom.”
“Present,” said Athena, coldly. Aphrodite expected the daggers her sister shot at her, but was somewhat surprised to see, if anything, more disdain expressed toward Hephaestus. She ignored the hope this instilled in her; she had no doubt Athena would rule against her if she could find a way to do so.
“Dr. Bertrand Russell, Atheist Prophet.”
“Here,” said the professor. He looked rather small compared to the Gods and Goddesses around him, but as he shuffled through notes, Aphrodite caught a sense of a mind racing.
“Saraswati, Hindu Goddess of Knowledge, Music, and the Arts.”
“I am here,” said the pretty Indian Goddess, toying with her hair with one of her four arms.
“The Triple Goddess, representing Wicca.”
“We are here,” said the Goddess, who was presently incarnate in her Mother image; a blink of an eye changed her to Maiden, and another to Crone. She smiled at Aphrodite and Hephaestus both.
“Yù Huáng, Jade Emperor of Heaven.”
“Present,” said the slim Chinese God, in an authoratative voice.
“The Vice Chair, Kunapipi, Mother Goddess of Australia.”
“I am here,” said the shimmering, ethereal being, a woman in form, but more a creature of rainbow light.
“The Chair Emeritus, Yhwh, God of the Jews.”
“Yes, present.”
“The Chair, Kweku Anansi, God of Tricks and Storytelling.”
“I am here,” said Anansi, “and now that we have all been introduced, the Chair will entertain a series of motions to adopt the previous meeting's minutes as read, to suspend the rules and lay the discussion of temporal disturbances on the table, and to move directly onto the order of the day.”
“So moved,” said Kunapipi.
“Second,” said Yhwh.
“All in favor? Opposed? By unanimous vote, we shall move on to the order of the day.”
Anansi smiled. A hush fell over the cavern.
“Now, Hephaestus is joined at his table by Lord Ba'al Zbûb, the Devil's Advocate,” said Anansi. “Aphrodite, you have no advisor with you; have you sought advice on the procedures for petitioning the council?”
Aphrodite cleared her throat. “Mr. Chair, honorable members, yes, I have been advised by the distinguished Emeritus Councilor Mami Wata.”
“Ah, Mami Wata. Dear Mami Wata. No doubt, this is why you are alone; it would be improper for a former Councilor to argue in front of the Council when still Of Council. You are comfortable with this, though? You do not wish to ask the Council that an exception be made? That your guide be allowed to argue for you?”
For a half-second, Aphrodite was ready to say yes, to put her burden on Mami Wata. But before she did, she thought back to what Mami Wata had told her, many times.
She would know what to say.
“I have been advised well,” she said. “With due respect, I will argue for myself.”
“Very good,” said Anansi, eyes twinkling. (Eight eyes twinkling? For just a second, he had appeared very spider-like. Of course, Anansi is a spider and Anansi is a man. He is both; this is not a conflict.) “Without further ado, we shall begin. Are there any motions from the petitioner?”
“No, Mr. Chair.”
“Again, good. Any motions from the respondent?”
Beelzebub cleared his throat, and rose. “Milord, on behalf of the Chancellor I move for dismissal of this case; the Chancellor is willing to concede his bet.”
At this the crowd erupted into a thousand side conversations, causing Anansi to raise his voice over the din. “We will have order! We will have order before this panel! What do you mean by this?”
“We are willing....”
“I am not speaking to you, Beelzebub. You, Hephaestus – what do you mean, you will concede?”
Hephaestus cleared his throat, and slowly rose. “Milord, my circumstances have changed. While I won't be working directly on Earth – and thus will not be able to fulfill my promise, for now, of working for gender equality – I will concede all else in the case, and accept defeat, in order to end this case immediately.”
“And you decided to wait until you were before the Council to do so? Unbelievable.”
The din in the hall had ceased, and now was replaced by an almost perfect silence. Aphrodite stared over at Hephaestus, nonplussed; this seemed far too good to be true. She would have her victory, immediately. She could hand-deliver Adam to Stephanie – assuming they could move quickly enough.
“Does the petitioner object to the motion?”
This seemed to good to be true.
She would have to see if it was.
“Milord,” Aphrodite said, slowly, fighting the urge to look again at Mami Wata, “I am curious; it is my understanding that the withdrawal of this case would leave no precedent for other Gods and Goddesses to follow, no hint of how they should treat volitionals in the future. Is that correct?”
“It is,” Anansi said, giving her a half-smile.
“Milord, I object,” she said.
“Why?” Anansi said.
“Because...because I believe this motion is not made in good faith. I believe that the respondent seeks to interfere in the return of Adam White to his wife. I will accept the motion if the respondent agrees on behalf of himself and his comrades in Hell to grant Adam White safe passage home, and to allow him to be restored to his full height.”
Lord Ba'al Zbûb and Hephaestus whispered pointedly back and forth. “Well?” Anansi said, after a long wait.
“Milord...we cannot agree to bind the hands of Hell. Not without the permission of Lord Satan.”
“Well then,” Anansi said, “Lord Satan may come forward and address the Council, if he wishes to support the motion.”
All eyes in the cavern turned to Satan, who sat, stone-faced, in his seat.
“Very well. respondent will not agree to grant Adam White safe passage, therefore the Chair will consider the respondent's motion to be withdrawn. Any further motions?”
Aphrodite shook her head. She wasn't sure if she'd just won or just lost.
* * *
Stephanie woke early. She had been having the strangest dream, one that seemed to slip away as soon as she awoke. There was an argument going on about her and Adam, about his safety. She didn't understand it all, and it was gone now. But it had seemed important.
She rubbed her eyes, and checked the clock. It was still the middle of the night. She groaned. She knew that she wouldn't get back to sleep; the house seemed so empty. It had ever since she had returned to it alone.
After debating for a few minutes, she got up. She would start to pack. Michael was right; this wasn't a good place for her to be, not right now. She would pack, get a nap in, and she'd leave that afternoon for a hotel. (Or maybe she'd take Michael up on his offer; he was a good friend. She'd have done the same for him.)
She'd wait for the mail, though. She'd have it forwarded to her parents' house starting tomorrow, but she wanted to go through the ritual one last time, read the death threats and marriage proposals and prayers and curses one last time. And then – then it would be time to go. At least for now.
She got out the suitcase she had last carried on her honeymoon. And she began to fill it.
* * *
Ba'al Zbûb sighed. “If we must continue the trial, I respectfully request that the honorable Councillor Freyja Njörðrsdottir recuse herself from this hearing, and that she be replaced by the honorable Chair Emeritus Quetzalcoatl for this hearing.”
“Why do you ask this?” Anansi said.
“Because as a fellow Love Goddess, she is biased toward the Petitioner.”
“Aphrodite?”
Aphrodite fought back a smile. She had brought up the idea of challenging Jesus; he seemed like a sure no vote to her. But Mami Wata had told her in no uncertain terms that members hated to have any other members asked to step aside. It was not considered polite.
They would do so, of course, if both sides made challenges. But they didn't like it.
“Mr. Chair, it seems to me that if Freyja must step aside because she shares a calling with me, then Christ Jesus would have to step aside, because both he and Hephaestus are artisan Gods.”
Aphrodite smiled her most winning smile. “Of course, I will make no such motion; that would be foolishness. I believe that both Jesus and Freyja – and indeed, all the members of the Council – can decide honorably this case. I object to this – and any other – request for recusal.”
“Just so. Is there a second from the committee for Lord Ba'al Zbûb's motion? No? Seeing no second, the motion dies. Any other motions?”
Zbûb shook his head. “No, Milord.”
“Good. Now. The Chief of Staff shall read the petition, and then the petitioner shall make her presentation; the respondent shall rebut this. At that time, we shall take a recess, and the Council shall ask such further questions as it has before rendering its verdict. The Chief of Staff shall proceed.”
And as St. Peter began to read the challenge Aphrodite herself had authored, Aphrodite's stomach lurched again. Because Mami Wata was wrong. She had no idea what to say.
* * *
Adam was beginning to despair whether he'd ever make it home. It had seemed like forever since he sealed himself inside the envelope; he couldn't tell day from night anymore. He had just been sorted again, the envelope was in a truck. But he didn't know if it was heading to Stephanie now, or if he was three states away.
He fought down the urge to break out of the envelope. He would have to wait. Maybe he would die en route. But at least his body would make it home. He just had to have faith.
Besides, the envelope was roomier now than it had been when he entered it; shrinking had its advantages, he supposed.
* * *
“Thank you for your presentations. This Council shall stand in recess for one hour.”
Anansi brought down his gavel, and the Council abruptly disappeared. And Aphrodite heaved a huge sigh.
The morning arguments hadn't gone poorly, exactly. Indeed, now that she finally chanced a glance at Mami Wata, she could see that the goddess looked pleased. She had built her case around Hergensheimer v. Yhwh – in that case, after all, it had been ruled that volitionals who are promised rewards shall be granted them. And the argument had seemed persuasive to at least a few of the members of the Council. Saraswati seemed eager to advance the argument, noting a series of cases that seemed to bolster her case. And Bertrand Russell had argued passionately in favor of restoring Adam to preserve the “reason doctrine” which had prevailed since the seventeenth century.
But Allah had been scathing in his questioning, and he had seemed much more receptive to Beelzebub's claim that considering the feelings of volitionals could interfere with the ability of the gods to judge humankind. And Athena had launched an ad hominem attack against Aphrodite, talking once more about her temptation of Paris, leaving out Athena's own proposed bribe. As the attack had come during the respondents' time, Aphrodite could only look on with cold fury at her sister.
She could not consult with any of the other gods during the break. She could only look at her notes from the morning, and try to figure out what she could say to persuade the Council that she was right. That mortals were not just playthings. That they deserved more. That they deserved the right to tell their own stories, as much as the gods.
For a second, she paused. She thought...no.
No, she didn't have it. But she could. She studied more.
* * *
The last part of the ride had been bumpy. He'd heard voices outside, heard chatter, then felt the world moving again. Finally, he heard a voice that sounded familiar saying, “Hey, Steph! Mail's here.”
His heart leapt. He thought it must be Michael. It would stand to reason – the guy was one of Stephanie's best friends. He must be helping her through the mess of losing her husband. Good. He was glad. She needed the support.
“Thanks, Michael,” said Stephanie, tipping the basket of mail out onto the kitchen table. “I'm just going to go through this before we go.”
“You sure? You know it's just death threats.”
“Yeah, some of them are funny. Like this one – 'Die bitch.' That's all it says. I mean, if you're going to send a letter, wouldn't you take some time?”
Stephanie moved through the mail quickly. She saw a few larger letter that she'd save until the end – some of them had useful information. But about halfway through the opening of the letters, she came across one that stopped her cold.
It was a long and violent treatise from someone claiming to have killed Adam. Claiming to have crushed his body flat with their foot, until he was just paste. It was very descriptive. And though Stephanie knew it was just meant to rattle her...it rattled her.
Adam heard her start crying, and he decided that he'd had enough of waiting. He worked his way to the edge of the envelope, and quickly worked it open. She needed to know he was alive.
He was briefly disoriented as he emerged into the now enormous kitchen. Stephanie had risen, and had her back to him. She had balled the letter, and flung it across the room with all the strength she could muster. Michael walked over to her and held her, letting her cry it out.
“Why do people have to be such bastards?” she asked. “Why?”
“I don't know,” Michael said.
“I just...I hate it. I wish...I wish I could be back in his arms like I was at the beginning, like everything was back to normal. I just wish that it was normal again.”
“It can be,” Michael said, pulling away just a bit.
And then, to the shocked dismay of a tiny man, Michael kissed Stephanie, full on the lips.
She didn't immediately pull away.
* * *
The question session with the Council, Mami Wata had said, is where cases are won and lost. The Council's members are more than happy to tip their hands, to show their thinking. The God who does better in changing those lines of thinking is the God who will win.
Thus far, Aphrodite was pretty sure she was losing.
She had, she thought, four or five Gods on her side. Saraswati, Bertrand Russell, Freyja, and The Triple Goddess all were vicious in their questioning of Hephaestus; they were much more solicitous to her. And Kunapipi, though inscrutable as always, seemed to be on her side. That was the good news.
The bad news was that Yhwh, Allah and Jesus all seemed solidly in Hephaestus's camp, as did Yù Huáng. The Gods who could be persuaded seemed down to Anansi (whose questions were complex and multifaceted), Buddha, Izanami-no-Mikito, and Athena. And Aphrodite wouldn't consider Athena on her side even if she won her vote.
She needed to run the table. She needed to convince them. She needed to...
“Madam Aphrodite?”
...pay attention.
“Please, Mister Chair, could you repeat the question?”
Anansi sighed. “Tell me, why exactly is it these volitionals you have decided to care about? Why not the ones before?”
Aphrodite sighed. “I have cared about the volitionals for some time. For example, I gave Pygmalion....”
“Yes, you gave Pygmalion his Galatea. And good for you. But you did so only after a great deal of resistance. Now you seem willing to go to the ends of the universe for these two humans. Why?”
She swallowed, and decided to answer the question honestly.
“I don't know, Mister Chair. It just...I believe that what Hephaestus and I have done is to muddle up their lives. To inject ourselves into their story.”
“Their story?”
“Well, yes,” Aphrodite said. “Metaphorically, anyhow. I mean, the story of Adam and Stephanie White's love....”
She stopped.
She looked down. Could it really be that simple?
“We do not really mean, we do not really mean that what we are about to say is true,” she murmured.
“What?” scoffed Yhwh. Anansi, though, ventured a small smile.
“A story, a story; let it come, let it go! That's it!” said Aphrodite.
“What is 'it,' Aphrodite?” said Anansi. The question was pointed, but he was beaming at her.
She was right. She knew it.
“Mister Chair, Members of the Council, Adam White and Stephanie White are part of a story. Their story. Just as all of us are a part of the stories and myths that have created us, the narrative of their lives has created them. They exist for the same reason the whole of creation exists.
“Christ Jesus, in your holy work, the Bible, there is a book that begins, 'In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.' Anansi – you sought the stories, because the stories were the most valuable of all the Sky God's possessions. The stories – the stories. Let them come, let them go.”
“What does this have to do with the price of tea in China?” asked Yù Huáng.
“Simple, your Highness,” Aphrodite said. “Adam and Stephanie White are part of a story. It may be a good story. It may be a bad one. It may have a happy ending, it may have a sad one. But it is theirs. We the Gods can test them – throw up challenges – test them reasonably. But when we give impossible challenges, or use their suffering for mere maculate gain, we destroy the narrative of their lives. We interfere with their story. And there is no graver sin than that.”
“Please,” said Beelzebub mockingly. “Are we to believe that Faust is somehow invalid because of my Lord's interference in a mortal life?”
“Of course not,” shot back Aphrodite. “We can test mortals, and we can make death, damnation, perdition – all of these can be a part of the bargain. They can choose their fate. But they must be able to choose. Not you. Not me. Not even Al'yah, begging milady's pardon.
“Adam White did not choose his fate. That does not mean that it was wrong for us to interfere in his life, to give him a chance for growth. But we must give him the ending that is right for him, and for Stephanie. We must give them the chance to make their decisions, to come to their resolutions, and to live the fate that is just for them. And they, and only they, can choose their destiny.”
The cave was silent. Dead silent. Anansi looked around the Council, and smiled. It was clear that no further questions needed to be asked. So he asked a couple.
“There is a promise between them. One made by one to the other. What say you of that?”
“I say,” said Aphrodite, surprising herself, “let them make that choice. I can wait. And let my bet ride on their decision.”
“And if Hell gains this power, and decides to use it to their advantage?”
“So long as humans have free will, and have the ability to say no to Satan's temptations...there are dark stories as well as light ones, milord.”
“Indeed.” The Chair cleared his throat. “Very well. Are there any other questions? Seeing none, the Council shall vote in the matter of Aphrodite v. Hephaestus. Said vote shall be taken by secret ballot; the members will place their markers in the bag as it comes by them.”
The bag was handed to St. Peter, who quickly tallied the vote, and gave the information to the chair.
“Very well,” said Anansi. “The vote is decided.”
And then he paused.
Aphrodite never knew a longer moment.
* * *
Adam never knew a longer moment.
The kiss lasted but a second, maybe two. But it lasted long enough for Adam to quickly reverse course, toward the mail.
All the inadequacy of his reduction was thrown back in stark, titanic relief. She had found Michael. Found him amidst the pain. He could make her life normal. Like she wanted.
Adam coming back now would just complicate things. He'd just....
But he didn't have a chance to complete the thought, before he heard the sounds of a giant stumbling backward, followed by the sound of a nearby thunderclap. Adam turned, and saw something that caused his heart to leap.
Stephanie stared Michael down with a blazing fury. Michael rubbed the cheek that his friend had slapped. “I –” he started to say, but Stephanie wasn't in the mood for conversation.
“What the fuck was that, Michael? Did you – did you really just do that?”
“Steph, I can explain. I –”
“I'm married, Michael! I wouldn't cheat on Adam for anything. Anything!”
“He's dead!”
“If you're right, then I can tell you that it will take a hell of a lot longer than a few weeks to get over him. I love him, Michael. I always will.”
“But Steph...I mean, I love you.”
Stephanie laughed bitterly. “No. You don't. You want me. How long?”
“What?”
“How long have you been plotting this? Since Adam started shrinking? Before? I remember you talking about the guy in England, whose wife was sleeping with someone else – that was a pass, wasn't it? Planting the seed, hoping I'd hop in bed with you when things got rough. My God, you selfish bastard!”
“Selfish?” Michael said, finally mustering some anger. “Selfish? I've been your shoulder to cry on for years. I've been here when everyone else left you. I've counseled you through Brad, and David, and Rick, and now Adam. I gave you emotional support, but did you ever see me as anyone you'd be interested in fucking?”
“Yes,” said Stephanie. “But you never asked. And anyhow, Jesus, was I wrong. You're the worst type of sleazebag. You're a guy who feigns friendship. You never really cared about me at all.”
“What?”
“You wanted sex, you could have been a man and asked for it. But you didn't. You tried to weasel your way into my panties, rather than trying the direct route. That's why you'll never have me, Michael. If you'd been the friend I thought you were, you'd understand that.
“Now get the hell out of our house.”
Michael looked at Stephanie with unfocused rage. For a second, Adam thought that he might go after her, but instead he sullenly trudged away.
Stephanie walked over to the table, and sad down heavily. She rested her head in her hands, and cried for a good long time. Until gradually, she became aware of an itch on her right elbow.
She rubbed her eyes, and looked down.
And gasped.
* * *
“By a vote of 10-3, this Council finds in favor of the motion by the petitioner. We declare that the bet between Aphrodite and Hephaestus will be complete at such time as Stephanie has fulfilled her promise to Adam, or at such time as she is released from that promise. Further, we enjoin Satan from further interference in the lives of the Whites. And this Council declares henceforth that Gods must take the self-determination of volitionals into account when casting miracles. With no further business before the Council, we stand adjourned.”
The cave broke into a roar of approval. Hephaestus and Beelzebub trudged back through the throng toward Satan, who appeared more thoughtful than angry.
The Council did not disappear. Instead, most of them rose and headed directly for Aphrodite – all save Allah, Yhwh, and Yù Huáng. Mami Wata was headed for her as well, as were Eros and most of the Greek Pantheon.
Aphrodite was mobbed with adulation from her fellow deities, and though she quickly split herself into a half-dozen selves in order to accept the congratulations, she still found herself overwhelmed. Nothing warmed her quite as much, though, as Mami Wata simply telling her, “I told you so.”
“You did,” Aphrodite said. “Thank you.”
Okay, maybe there were a couple more. Al'yah simply smiling and nodding at her – that was something she'd never forget. And Athena's comment...that shocked her.
“That was a hell of an argument,” she said. “You won my vote with that, you know.”
“I'm sorry,” Aphrodite said.
“For winning my vote?”
“For everything. For all the fights, the rivalry, the stupid golden apple...for everything.”
Athena looked at her, and gave a quiet smile.
“Me too,” she said. “Tell you what – drop by Olympus sometime. We'll have some wine, and we'll tell each other all the stupid things we regret. Eternity's too long to hold a grudge.”
As she hugged her sister, Aphrodite thought to herself that this growing up thing was underrated. It made love better. All love. Even the confused rivalry between siblings.
* * *
Stephanie blinked back the tears. She couldn't...she couldn't believe her eyes. It was a trick of the light. Or a hallucination. Or a dream. Or she'd finally just lost her mind.
But the naked man stroking her skin was still there. And she lowered her face to his level, looking at the man who was nearly ten inches shorter than he'd been the last time she saw him.
“Is it – is it really – you?” she said, through tears.
“How many shrunken husbands do you have?” he said, his heart bursting.
She didn't wait. She scooped him up and held him to the skin just above her neckline. She held him and felt his warm skin against hers. Adam lay against her, and drank in her scent, her touch, her enormous being. She was so much beyond him now – and she was still his.
She finally pulled him away, long enough to kiss him, and to say, tearfully, “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”
“For what?” Adam said.
“For losing you. For thinking you might be dead. For kissing Michael – oh, God, I...can you forgive me for that?”
“What, you mean when he tried to take advantage of you and you smacked him? Yeah, I can forgive you for that. Can you forgive me for getting myself kidnapped? For putting you through the wringer?”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Really? Damn, because I was really looking forward to the make-up sex.”
That did it. The tears of Stephanie disappeared, and she broke out into the laughter that had deserted her through the weeks of not knowing, and Adam joined her in the laughter that had disappeared in the weeks of torture, and they were home. Where they both were, that was home.
Giantess World
Chapter End Notes:
--
The next chapter will be full of sexiness.