Page 9 of Tidal Creatures

Somehow, no one is, and somehow, that doesn’t keep them all from sticking to the schedule like they’re being managed. Even the ones like Máni, who’d rather not do anything that involves showing up for work, still know when it’s their turn, and still show up. Maybe it’s the actual moon, somehow, some intrinsic part of their shared identity reflecting down through the whole pantheon.

“I know,” says Judy. “But I had to wait, and it’s important you know I waited. I was at the gate before Máni came out. He didn’t have a chance to hide anything from me. But he was late.”

Diana frowns. Her irritation is starting to fade, replaced by concern. “All right.”

“When he came back, he was carrying Aske’s body. He found her dead on the ground inside the everything, right in front of the window. And Diana—she hadn’t stepped down when she died. She was bleeding blood, yes. She was also bleeding moonlight. How could she be bleeding moonlight?”

Diana stares at her. When she speaks again, the voice of Professor Williams is stronger, more evident. “Judy, are you seriously saying we have a dead student on our hands?”

Judy shakes her head, quick and sharp. “No. I was able to convince Máni that being found with the body of a dead white girl from Minnesota would cause more problems than it solved, and she was still bleeding moonlight, so it wasn’t like we could hand her over to the coroner. He left her in the corridor, just inside.”

“Who shines tonight?”

“I do. Abuk is supposed to be there for the handoff. I was hoping you could tell her before it’s time to go, so that if the body’s still there, she won’t be surprised.”

“And if the body’s not there anymore?”

“I think it will be. No one has access to the everything except for us.” Judy looks at her gravely. “What could have done this? What could kill a Lunar inside the everything? Do we need to be worried about killers coming through the window from the City?”

“No,” says Diana. She sighs, heavily, and Judy realizes she doesn’t know how old Professor Williams is, how long she’s been carrying the mantle of the goddess and splitting her existence between the mortal and the divine. “Thank you for telling me about this. It’s important that I know. And that means I have something it’s important for you to know, too.”

“What’s that?” asks Judy.

Lunars tend to cluster together. It makes it easier for them to manage the rotation, since the gate can only be opened with a special kind of key. Judy doesn’t know how the keys are made, but she assumes they must be, since they’re physical objects; they can be lost. That doesn’t mean all the Lunars currently incarnate will be in the same place, or that it would be safe if they were. Berkeley is one of the larger current clusters—and she has some theories about why that might be—but it’s not the only one.

So it’s not entirely a surprise when Diana says, “I was speaking with Launsina, in Maine. One of her juniors died recently, the manifestation of Wu Gang. They found his body outside the gate, but he was bleeding as you describe, red mixed with silver, like he hadn’t been given the chance to step down.”

Judy never met the man, obviously, but she still feels a pang at the name of his manifestation. Wu Gang is one of the Lunars who supposedly shares her version of the celestial moon, chopping down an ever-growing olive tree forever as punishment for his crimes. None of the stories have him anywhere near her orchards, and so she supposes they’re neutral toward each other, if not intended to be friends. Still, inside her, behind the wall she keeps to separate mortal from manifestation, she feels Chang’e begin to weep.

“Chandra reports much the same, only in her case, the fallen god was Wadd. Otherwise, the same pattern. Found outside the gate, dead but manifest.”

“Ours is different,” says Judy, trying to fight back the feeling of creeping dread. “Aske didn’t make it out of the everything. Máni says he found her next to the window.”

“Máni, or David?” asks Diana.

The difference is essential. Divine senses are sharper than mortal ones; if David found the body, he might have missed something. Judy shakes her head.

“Máni told Chang’e what happened before he stepped down.”

“I would like to speak with her,” says Diana.

Judy has been expecting that request since it became apparent they were looking at more than one death. Still, she catches her breath, steadying herself, before she says, “Of course,” and lets the wall come down.

Chang’e is anxious. She doesn’t like this any more than Judy does. No god likes to be reminded that they can die. She surges forward so hard and fast that Judy barely has a moment before she’s washed away, banished into the depths of herself, and Chang’e is fully incarnate once more.

She understands that the Seasons, once they claim their crowns, exist as human and concept together always, the two beings sharing one body and one set of goals. The human can rise and fall within their season, allowing it to take however much control they feel is right, and in that regard, it’s a lot like the divine stepping up and stepping down that Judy endures, but the human and the metaphysical are always present, always combined. For the Lunars, it’s not quite like that.

Chang’e is always herself, distinct from Judy, the woman who carries her. They exist together, and they speak together when they choose, but which percentage of which is present varies from moment to moment. When Judy is fully stepped down, she’s just a human, with nothing special about her save for a sharp tongue and a gift for languages. And when Chang’e is fully stepped up, she can grow a peach tree out of nothing with a brush of her fingers to the soil, and the fruit it bears will heal any ill, grant youth and even immortality to the one who consumes it.

“Wu Gang, truly?” asks Chang’e, as soon as she has sufficient control to choose her own words. “I didn’t even know he was manifest in any of his aspects. How long ago did he find himself?”

“That matters less than his death,” says Diana. “He was found outside the gate but was otherwise as your mortal half describes: human and divine at the same time, bleeding silver that didn’t fade. His body was taken by Launsina; her portfolio includes the seas, and so when she asked the waters to rise and claim him, they did. His bones rest at the bottom of the Atlantic.”

“Didn’t his mortal aspect have a family?” asks Chang’e. “They’ll miss him.”

“He was a former felon who worked at an under-the-table mechanic’s shop. No one will miss him,” says Diana.

Inside Chang’e, Judy rages at the casual dismissal of a man’s life, and Chang’e tries to soothe her without letting her own unhappiness show. She doesn’t want to antagonize Diana.