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“No, you don’t.”
“I do. I saw you put out that fire. You help people, I want to help people.”
How could I best explain to her that last month, at Seth’s urging, I had made it rain so hard in Florida that a road was washed out, that people’s homes were destroyed? I did that because the god of storms was in a rage and demanded I make the world tremble in his presence.
Whether or not I helped people was entirely incidental most days.
“You don’t know what you’re asking. You have no idea what this life is, Sawyer. And more importantly, you can’t do what I do. Clerics are predestined for their roles.”
She gave a huge sigh. “But—”
“No.”
She looked about as hurt as if I’d kicked her puppy, but she didn’t move. Instead she fixed her eyes on Leo. “He’s not a cleric.”
Suddenly aware he was now her focus, he grew visibly uncomfortable under the weight of her stare. “I’m not.”
“But you still get to go with her.”
It was his turn to silently beg me for assistance.
Fat chance, buddy.
“My situation is a little bit different.”
“How?” Man alive, this girl was like a dog with a bone, absolutely relentless.
“Well, for starters, my dad is her boss.”
“Like, he’s temple management or something?”
“Uhhh.”
“His dad is Seth,” I said. There was no sense in dodging the truth. This girl was out for answers, or at least excuses she believed. “Leo is with me so he can see for himself what it is Seth has me do. And, Leo, would you say I spend a lot of time on humanitarian work?”
“No.”
“No,” I repeated. “Look, Sawyer, you seem like a good kid, I think. I’ve only known you for five minutes. But this isn’t the kind of life where I can just bring along a fifteen-year-old, you know?”
Except that was exactly how old I’d been when I started learning my role firsthand. Why did Sawyer come across as so much younger to me?
Because she was still innocent, in spite of how terrible her life may have been up until now.
“I want to do something that matters,” she whispered. There were tears in her eyes, and I could tell she was fighting hard to keep them from falling.
Shit.
“You can’t come with us,” I said firmly. “And you can never be a Rain Chaser. But if you think you want to be part of a temple, you’re allowed to join as a trainee priestess when you turn eighteen. Honestly, the priestesses do more work to help people than anything I do on a daily basis.”
This was true too. The temple worked with local charities and did a lot of donations within Seattle using the surplus income from tithes that wasn’t needed to support Seth’s lackeys and keep the temple in good shape. Giving back to the community helped with his reputation in ways he couldn’t possibly understand.
That was what the temple was for, after all. Maintaining the illusion Seth was a god of the people and could be appealed to in times of need. A false sense of approachability was what kept people tithing their prayers. It kept me working.
It kept him relevant.
There was nothing scarier than a god who fell out of popularity. No one prays to forgotten gods. No one gives them gifts or promises of obedience. The only power a god had was in the belief that others project onto them. When gods are forgotten, they become Shades. Immortal creatures without name or shape, just the sensation of menace.
The need to be remembered was why gods let themselves manifest however people wanted to see them. Seth was Seth, but also Thor, Tlaloc, and Iya. He had so many names I could barely keep them all straight. Wherever he went in the world they imagined him differently, and that was how he appeared to them. The beautiful Nordic blond. The strong, imposing Egyptian. For every name there was a face, and for every face there were those who worshipped it, drew it, turned it into statues and paintings and idols.
