but instead of crosses and such on the stained glass windows, there were suns everywhere.
Staring at the billboard that proclaimed “WE WORSHIP THE SUN” in disbelief, I couldn’t decide if I was horrified or impressed. Silhouettes of bikini-clad girls in sunglasses lined either side of the sign. Unbelievable. Apollo had started a cult in the center of L.A, a large city by human standards, while the rest of the gods were hidden in the shadows struggling to find enough worship to survive. And no one noticed.
Apollo had always been a bit eccentric, but this?
“Wazzup!” A group of kids in board shorts approached a gaggle of girls in daisy dukes and bikini tops.
Wazzup,” they replied in solemn voices.
The two groups bowed to each other, and I thought I might have an apoplexy.
Demeter took a deep breath and walked in the door. I followed, pushing aside the beaded curtains to find myself in a stripped-down sanctuary that smelled sickly sweet.
“Wazzup!” a group of very tan people called to us.
I looked to Demeter, letting her take the lead. This was still her realm.
“Quite a bit,” Demeter replied. “We were wondering if we could speak with…” She hesitated like she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “…Mr. Sunshine, please.”
Really? I thought, unable to suppress a groan. Oh, Apollo was never going to live this down.
The group of kids exchanged a glance. “He doesn’t usually talk to old folks, man. Sorry.”
Demeter’s mouth dropped open. “Old…people. Uh…I see.”
I didn’t. Physically, all the gods stopped aging at the end of maturity, so we didn’t look older than twenty-five unless we wanted to. How were we considered old compared to him? I looked down at the deep maroon carpet flecked with pieces of grass and sighed. Good gods. I missed the Underworld.
“Why don’t you tell him his Aunt Ceres is here and see what he says,” Demeter suggested.
“Yo, Mr. Sunshine!” one of the youths called, running down the hall to an office with yet another beaded curtain. “Your Great-Aunt Sarah is here.”
A vein in Demeter’s forehead twitched, and I smiled despite myself. It was nice to see Demeter knocked off her pedestal. Even by these creatures.
Apollo tore out of the office so fast he got tangled in the beaded curtain and ripped it down in his haste to get free. My eyes narrowed when I took him in. His matted red hair was cut short, he had a scruff of a beard beginning on his face, and he wore clothes with holes and patches on them.
“Why does he look homeless?” I murmured.
Demeter shook her head. “Not homeless, ironic.”
Oh good gods.
“Demeter!” Apollo managed to get mostly untangled from the curtain and moved forward in jerky motions while he tried to shake it off his foot.
“I let you live in my realm after the fall, and this is how you repay me?” Demeter’s eyes blazed. She looked around, like she was considering moving to a more quiet location, then dismissed Apollo’s inebriated followers with a snort. “You started your own cult.”
“I meant to send tribute, throw your name in services every now and then, I just get so…distracted.”
As if to underscore his point, a half-naked girl peeked her head out the office door. “Mr. Sunshine? Are you coming back?”
“Uh…not right now.”
A chorus of disappointed wails rose from the office, and my eyebrows shot up.
Apollo’s face turned beet red and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then cracked one eye open as if hoping we wouldn’t be there.
“I see.” Demeter’s voice was like ice. “You think you can poach my followers.”
“There are seven billion people on this planet. You can’t have them all!” Apollo protested. Demeter compressed her lips into a thin white line, and he stammered an apology. When he noticed me, his face drained of color. “Aw shit, Demeter. There was no reason to get him involved. I’ll mention your name every harvest, I promise. I’ve got some girls—erm…priestesses, I mean, I can send your way. Don’t make me go to the Underworld.”
“Harvest?” Demeter demanded. “What harvest?”
I held up my hands in a placating gesture. “No, you’re welcome to live forever as far as I’m concerned. No need to come to my realm. Ever.”
“How many priestesses do you want?” Apollo asked Demeter. “Hey girls?” He called a little louder.
“Yes, Mr. Sunshine?” The girls emerged from the office in various stages of undress.
“Oh please, don’t bother.” Demeter had a look on her face like she’d like to remove her eyes and scour them with bleach. “There’s more important