it was said to have filled the Holy Grail. It gave new perceptions and enlightenment to its drinkers, and promised to heal the land. Some have also suggested the flames that appeared over the apostles' heads at the feast of Pentecost were not flames at all, but rather visions they saw after drinking ambrosia. It made the apostles vivid and charismatic and let them communicate with people of all cultures and languages."
"I know a number of devout Christians - my good friend Dana included - who would find that offensive."
Jerome couldn't stay silent anymore, despite how disgruntled this topic appeared to make him. "Imagine her reaction if she knew that some people have speculated the Eucharist has little to do with the blood of Christ and more to do with a lost ambrosia ceremony. Said people argue those who participate today are only mimicking the ancient experience, equating the Holy Spirit with the high from ambrosia."
"That would upset a lot of people," I agreed. All three of us knew that many of the rites and beliefs that had been passed down to today were bastardizations of the originals. Some, not all.
Carter continued on pleasantly, like he was in an auditorium giving a lecture. "Ancient Hindu culture called ambrosia soma and even personified it as a god of the same name. His presence was as intoxicating as the drink itself and muddled the senses of those around him. "
"Soma was also the feel-good drug in Brave New World," I recalled. "I didn't realize how widespread this was."
He nodded. "And these stories are only the tip of the iceberg. A lot more where they came from."
I enjoyed the information. Getting any sort of meaningful explanation from these two was usually like driving through downtown Seattle in rush hour: slow, painful, and fraught with collisions. And yet, forthcoming or not, they weren't exactly giving me what I needed.
"Yeah, but you guys are real careful to say things like 'some people believe' or 'they say.' Which is it? What's really going on? Are any of those stories true?"
Carter's gray eyes twinkled. "Ah, I can't spoil the mysteries. Humans spend their lives trying to discern the truth of divinity. Even a succubus can't be in on all the secrets."
I gave him an exasperated look. This was more like their typical behavior. "Okay, forget the myths. Can you tell me what's up with this stuff, then? Does it make people immortal?"
Angel and demon looked at each other. "No," they both said in unison.
"But it makes you feel like you are," said Carter.
I thought about Doug's reckless behavior, his overwhelming confidence about everything from performing his music to stage-diving. He had no fear, no concern that anything might be less than perfect.
"So it's like a stimulant or any other mood-altering drug, then," I said. "It makes you feel good."
The angel shook his head. "No. It's a lot more than that. Ambrosia works by..." He grasped for the words. "I guess the best way to put it is that it amplifies your best abilities. It draws out what you're good at, what shines in you. And then it cranks up the volume on that to, well, godly levels, I guess."
"Yes, of course," I breathed.
That was why the band had suddenly shot off so successfully and rapidly. They were talented already. The ambrosia hadn't given them anything new; they'd just had their natural abilities increased tenfold. A hundredfold. And Casey...mathematically talented Casey had been able to do calculations in seconds that would have required a pen and paper for most people. Even Doug's Tetriss kills showed signs of ambrosia enhancement.
Ican't wait to see how you react to them, Alec had said. Indeed, how would I react? What good abilities in me would get amplified? What abilities did I have? The obvious joke was that I'd be able to really rock some guy's world in bed. I didn't like that answer, however, partially because I believed I already could rock a guy's world pretty hard-core without the help of creepy crystals, thank you very much. Plus, I hated to think that's all I was. There had to be more to me than just sexual prowess.
"Everyone who was on it crashed," I reminded Carter. "Doug, Casey. And when they crashed...they really crashed."
"It does that," he agreed. "One might argue that the withdrawal brings out your worst traits...or possibly turns your good ones bad. More often than not, it just makes a person depressed...and lacking. It's hard to go back to being