Somewhere deep, deep down, far below the normal levels of reality, there was a dark river. It rushed along endlessly, flowing from nowhere to nowhere, making scarcely a sound as it rolled over the dark rocks. On the pebbly bank of this dark river sat a little green hedgehog.

"Hey," it said, splashing a paw in the water. "Hireashi! Come on, get out! Something's up, da!"

For a moment, there was no response. The ripples made by his paw rolled slowly across the nearly still surface of the river and lapped against the far bank. Somewhere overhead, a single drop of water slipped from the end of a stalactite and fell almost soundlessly into the greater body of water below it. Then the surface rippled for a third time, this time when a bubble rose up from the murky depths and burst. Several more followed in quick succession, and then at last, a scaly face rose from the surface.

"Whaddaya want, Zundar?" asked the fish irritably. "I was sleeping."

"Well, this will wake you up, da!" said Zundar. "Do you remember the boy?"

Hireashi glared at him. "What boy? There are a lot of boys."

"The one our master wanted! The one he asked us to keep an eye on!" Zundar snapped.

"Oh, yeah, that one," said Hireashi. He rubbed at one of his bulbous eyes with a fin. "So did you find him? Where did he go?"

"He's dead, da!"

"Dead!" the fish exclaimed. "He can't be dead!"

"Well, he is," Zundar said testily. "I made sure of that before I came here."

"Okay, okay." Hireashi swam back and forth, sounding harried. "That's not a big problem. We can work around this. We just have to figure out what level of the underworld he's in, and then we'll just nip down there and..."

"He's not in an underworld," said Zundar. "The gods have taken him."

Hireashi emitted a string of swearwords that were mercifully drowned out as he dipped underwater, so that his words came out as bubbles. Zundar paced up and down the banks of the river, trying to hold in his annoyance. Eventually, Hireashi bobbed to the surface again, swimming around and around in thoughtful circles.

"All right, let's get this straight," he said. "What do you mean when you say the gods have taken him?"

"They made him one of them! He's a god!" Zundar barked. "Which means our master's plan is completely foiled."

"Maybe. Maybe not," said Hireashi. "I mean, this is bad but we can still deal with it. He hasn't gotten married yet, has he?"

Zundar's nose twitched thoughtfully. No one had thought to share that particular piece of information with him. "I don't think so..."

"Then there's still a chance," said Hireashi. "We just have to keep an eye on him as best we can. He can't stay in the Heavenly City all the time - he has to come down to earth eventually. We'll get him then."

"Unless he gets married," said Zundar darkly.

"He won't," said Hireashi. "Who'd want to put up with him? Just get back up there and keep your beady little eyes peeled. I'll make sure the boss knows what's up."

"Fine," said Zundar, with a touch of relief. He really hadn't wanted to explain to their master how things had gone wrong. "But you had better be right about this, da!"

"Of course I'm right," said the fish complacently. "When have I ever been wrong?"

Io had thought it seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, Ryuu had spent the afternoon with Akoya earlier, so now it was obviously his own turn. It kept things fair, that way. He had therefore invited Akoya to visit him, and the invitation had been duly accepted. At first, things had gone more or less the way they had the last time, with Io proudly showing off his treasure trove to be admired, but somewhere along the line, Akoya had become taken with a chess set made of gold and silver, inlaid with a variety of gemstones. Not only was it beautiful and valuable, but it turned out that Akoya was a skilled player and rarely had the opportunity to exercise his talents. Io had admitted that he was in the same boat. Ryuu wasn't fond of such quiet pursuits, and Io didn't often get out to socialize with anyone who was. He had been only too happy to bring out a table so they could play.

That had been several hours ago. At this point, Akoya was leading three games to two, and the two of them were talking about literature.

"Really?" Io was saying. "I would have thought you'd have enjoyed his works, if only for the subject matter."

"Oh, the subject matter is fine," said Akoya airily, "and some of his earlier works are tolerable as light reading, but his later work is unbearable."

"You don't think it's well-written?" asked Io. "I mean, I don't like it either, but I want to hear your take on it."

"It's not that his work isn't well-written," said Akoya. "It's just that he's so pleased with himself. You can practically hear him at your elbow pointing out his own cleverness to you. It's like trying to admire someone's garden while the gardener stands in front of all the really interesting plants telling you about how much work it was to grow them."

Io smiled. "I think I agree with you. I've met the man, and he's exactly the same way in person."

"That's right, I suppose you would have. Perhaps you'll introduce him to me someday," said Akoya. He smiled slyly. "I promise I won't be rude to him."

Io laughed. "No, but you'll let him know exactly what you think of him all the same."

"I can't be held responsible if someone happens to read things into my words that I didn't say," said Akoya, raising his chin. Then he broke out into a smile. "Did you ever read that play he wrote?"

"Only once," said Io, shaking his head. "I think that's all anyone ever did."

"Oh, I don't know. It's rather amusing if you tackle it from the right angle," said Akoya. He slumped dramatically in his seat and declaimed, "Oh, most changeable moon of my heart, even now thou dost shine most brightly even as thou wanest..."

Both of them began to laugh.

"Oh, dear," said Akoya, wiping at his eyes, "that was so undignified of me."

"Don't apologize," said Io. "I like hearing you laugh."

Akoya bowed his head in what Io was sure was a practiced gesture of modesty, which in this case probably stemmed from a disinclination to let the conversation get personal. This suspicion was only confirmed in Io's mind when Akoya made a blatant change of subject.

"Did I tell you?" he remarked. "My apartment has been changing shape."

"Has it?" answered Io politely. "I thought it might."

Akoya nodded. "When I started, I'm positive I had only the bedroom, the sitting room, and the bath. Then the other day I was thinking that I missed my music lessons, and I turned around and there was a door to a music room full of instruments. They even play themselves if I ask them to. And then I got to thinking that it would be nice to practice my fencing, and suddenly I had a splendid workout room, complete with cloth dummies that get up and spar with me on command. Then this morning, I got up and found the loveliest solarium full of flowering plants. I don't even remember wanting one. It was just there."

"That's the nature of the Heavenly City," said Io. "The space you occupy belongs to you, and its shape is dictated mainly by what you want or need, or a general reflection of your character. You seem to have a special bond with flowers - that's probably where the solarium came from. The music room might tie into your position as god of beauty, not just because you wanted it. I don't know about the fencing, though."

Akoya smiled, looking rather amused. "Ah, that's one of my little secrets. It's part of my daily regimen. I've always kept myself in condition that way."

And protected yourself, Io thought. He remembered again how Akoya twitched whenever someone seemed like they wanted to touch him. Surely he hadn't had so many admirers without having at least a few who didn't take a polite "no" for an answer. Of course he'd wanted to be able to defend himself, and probably had at times. Even in times like this, when Akoya was doing his best to look soft and languid, Io was not fooled. Today, Akoya had pulled his hair into a loose braid, wound through with strands of pearls, with a matching pearl circlet resting on his brow. He'd adopted the fashion that most of the gods favored - loose shirt and trousers in a pale color worn under brightly colored robes. His were rose-colored silk, a little bit darker than his hair, embroidered with silver thread and more pearls. Rather than sitting in an actual chair, he'd draped himself gracefully over a divan, looking as supple as a gauze scarf. Io knew how much strength it took to hold such a pose for any length of time, though, and Akoya had been there for hours. Granted, being a god gave him almost unlimited stamina, but he'd assumed the position with all the grace of one who was used to it. Io gave him a measuring look, noticing how one sandaled foot peeped from the hem of Akoya's robe to dangle with studied casualness over the edge of the divan. Even the man's toes were perfect. It was entirely unfair.

"It's always good to know how to defend yourself," he said aloud. "We're safe enough here, but any time we venture into the mortal world, there's always a chance we'll encounter demons."

"Ryuu didn't mention that, when he brought me there," said Akoya, looking mildly affronted.

"Oh, you were safe enough with him around," said Io reassuringly. "Ryuu is good at looking out for himself. He's got more talents than just finding partners for people."

"His ability to play matchmaker is remarkable," Akoya murmured. "He seems to be able to find a suitable mate for almost anyone."

"He can. He prides himself on it," said Io, feeling rather proud himself. He enjoyed seeing his beloved's talents recognized.

"Indeed," said Akoya. He found a strand of hair that had escaped its braid and twined it around his finger. Anyone else would have looked disheveled with their hair coming loose like that, but he managed to make it look charming. "I wonder, though... if he can do that, why doesn't he just..." He waved a hand vaguely. "...solve my predicament for me?"

Io raised an eyebrow. "You mean, why doesn't he cut through all this courtship business by just making you fall in love with someone appropriate?"

"Well, yes," said Akoya. "For that matter, if he's interested in me himself, why is he dragging things out?"

"Because it doesn't work like that," said Io. "He's just what you called him: a matchmaker. He watches people, sees where the greatest potential is, and he creates opportunities for them to meet. He whispers suggestions. He gives encouragement. He never forces anyone. Sometimes it takes longer than other times for him to get a match to work, and sometimes even with his best efforts, people can still refuse to pursue love for the sake of money, or social status, or religious convictions, or any number of other reasons. People still have free will, after all."

"I see," said Akoya thoughtfully. "I did wonder if he might be... doing something."

Io's smile was wry. "He kissed you, didn't he?"

Akoya didn't answer directly, but a distinct reddish tinge rose in his cheeks.

"Well, don't feel embarrassed," said Io. "He has that effect on nearly everyone. It does tend to take your breath away if you aren't braced for it."

Akoya smiled a bit. "You must enjoy being married to him."

"It has its moments," Io agreed. "Would you feel better knowing he said he enjoyed it?"

"Enjoyed what?" Akoya asked.

"Kissing you. He said I ought to try it."

Now why had he said that? He shouldn't have been thinking like that, not in the middle of a conversation about how wonderful his husband was. He'd never flirted with anyone but Ryuu before. He'd never really been attracted to anyone but Ryuu before. Really, what more could he want out of a relationship? Ryuu was a good friend and a fantastic lover, and Io couldn't imagine life without him. But he'd been enjoying having someone else to talk to, someone who shared his interests in a way Ryuu did not, and he couldn't deny the fact that Akoya was ridiculously pretty. If the offer was not "instead of" but "in addition to"...

Isn't it greedy to want more than I've already got? But that's my job, isn't it? I'm supposed to want everything...

"Did he really?" Akoya looked at him speculatively. "Then I suppose you should do as he says."

That wasn't the response Io had been expecting. He regarded Akoya a moment to see if he was serious. Akoya watched him in turn, his expression pleasant and unreadable.

How do I get myself into these messes? he asked himself, and he leaned across the table and kissed him.

He really hadn't known what to expect. He had exactly one point of reference for what kissing was like, and that was Ryuu, who was hardly what anyone would call normal in that regard. Io had been prepared to be disappointed, and perhaps terribly embarrassed. He had more than half a mind just to make this a quick chaste peck and pull away before anything could go wrong. Somehow, though, Akoya's hands ended up cupping his face, and he found himself being pulled in closer until he gave in and relaxed into the kiss. Up close, Akoya smelled of flowers, as if all the gardens in the world had come together in one place. His skin and hair were the softest Io had ever touched. If Ryuu's heat was an all-consuming passion, Akoya's was the warmth of a spring day - the kind of day when everything felt fresh and new and you felt certain you could do anything. It was an exhilarating feeling.

Akoya was the first to pull away again.

"Well," he said, "that satisfies my curiosity. Yours as well, I hope?"

"Ah... yes," said Io, still feeling rather befuddled.

"Good," said Akoya. "Then on that note..." He reached out to one of the chess pieces and placed it firmly on a new square. "Checkmate."

Io stared down in surprise at the configuration of game pieces. Akoya slid serenely off his divan and stood.

"Thank you for the hospitality," he said.

He gave Io a smile before disappearing. Io simply frowned, staring at the place where Akoya had been. That last smile might have meant almost anything - it gave no clue at all as to how Akoya was feeling.

But then, he supposed that was only fair. At the moment, Io had no idea how to feel, either.

Aurite surveyed his desk with a look of quiet satisfaction. Things seemed to be coming along at last. For the last couple of hours, he'd had Akoya in his office, filling out paperwork, which seemed to have made everyone happy. Aurite was happy because it meant that things were now that much closer to being properly organized. Akoya, on the other hand, was happy because most of the questions involved things that he wanted. He was a god now, and that meant he had decisions to make - what days he wanted his festivals on, what sorts of temples should be built for him, who could and could not become his priests, what their rituals would involve, what rules his worshipers should follow, and so on and so forth. Not everything had been settled immediately, of course - not even Aurite expected that - but at least the things he had immediate opinions on had been written down. The two of them had approved the selection of a High Preistess - a pretty young woman named Akemi who had once been one of Akoya's maids, and who had now volunteered for the position of chief worshiper. Akoya had already gone off to relay to her the first of what would doubtless be many edicts. Aurite was actually smiling a little as he filed away the paperwork. It was good to see Akoya beginning to take his duties seriously at last. That had been part of his bargain, and the fact that he hadn't been fulfilling it had irked Aurite considerably. As for the other half of the bargain... well, he had some ideas of how that was going, and he was satisfied with the progress thus far.

He was still mulling over the peculiar turn that particular plan had taken when he heard a knock at his door.

"Now what?" he demanded. If that was Akoya coming to complain about something...

"Got a minute?" asked a voice on the other side of the door. "We've got something we want to show you."

"Oh, it's you," said Aurite. "All right, come in."

The door swung open, and Vesta and Sulfur trooped in together. Aurite regarded them with some interest, wondering just what they wanted him for. Their expressions suggested that this was not, as he might have hoped, good news.

"Please, sit down," Aurite told them. He gestured to two straight-backed chairs, which obligingly scooted closer so his two colleagues could sit across from him. They sat, looking ill-at-ease. Vesta sat slumped forward with his elbows propped on his knees, while Sulfur sat stiffly on the edge of his chair, hands folded primly in his lap. Aurite frowned a little. Sulfur always tended to be a little stiff with people outside the comfort of his own domain, but one rarely saw Vesta doing anything but exuding confidence.

"What can I do for you?" Aurite asked, when they showed no signs of speaking.

"It may be that we can do something for you," said Sulfur. "Did you know Akoya is under a curse?"

Aurite stared at him. "He can't be. I'd have noticed."

"Well, he is," said Vesta. "We talked it over, Io and I, and we both thought there was something weird about the way people just fall all over him. We started looking into his history."

Sulfur nodded, pulling out one of his ubiquitous mirrors, which he placed on the desk in front of Aurite.

"I had a chat with my colleague in the Land of the Peaceful Dead," he explained, "and she let me have a talk with Akoya's mother. She was a bit reluctant, but in the end, she gave me some interesting information."

Aurite leaned in closer to look into the mirror. Its surface showed him a young woman, probably in her early twenties at most, but plain and dowdy, unattractive despite her youth, and the expression on her face was one of resigned misery. She was clearly pregnant. Aurite frowned, remembering. He had judged her less than two decades ago - practically yesterday, by divine terms. Life had dealt her a hard hand, and she'd coped with it stolidly enough as far as he could tell - had never tried to rise above it, either, but that wasn't a crime in his book. He wouldn't have been shocked if she'd tried inflicting curses on her philandering husband, but as far as he knew, she'd doted on her son and never would have knowingly allowed harm to come to him. Aurite watched as she walked slowly by the side of a river, apparently lost in thought.

Suddenly, a gust of wind snatched the hat from her head. She gave a dismayed cry as it sailed away, and she made a clumsy grab at it. Aurite felt that the hat was no great loss - a floppy wide-brimmed thing with far too many ribbons and silk flowers on it. The loss of it seemed to be one thing too many, however, and as it splashed into the river and began to sink, the woman burst into tears.

Then something happened that made Aurite jerk back in surprise. A large goldfish surfaced next to the hat, seized its brim in his mouth, and began hauling it to shore. When it had gone as far as it could, it tossed the sodden hat up on the bank with a little flick before settling itself in the mud, half-in and half out of the water. The woman stared at it, clearly amazed.

"You... you brought my hat back," she stammered.

"Well, yeah," said the fish. "I mean, it's an ugly hat, but you sounded pretty upset about it. I figured I'd do my good deed for the day, you know what I mean?"

The woman's eyes turned suspicious. "Don't talk to me. I know what you are. Fish don't talk - you're a demon."

The fish's round eyes went even wider, somehow conveying a look of hurt innocence.

"What, me? No way. You see any horns? Any glowing eyes? Any fangs? Nah, I'm a wishing fish - I grant wishes, and it looks to me like you're a lady that could use a wish. For real! I'm willing to grant you one wish, whatever you want. A heap of gold, a flying pony, your very own castle by the sea, you just name it and it's yours."

She frowned. "There's go to be a catch."

"What? There's no catch," said the fish. "I'm just that nice a guy. But hey, if you don't want a wish, that's no scales off my nose."

He turned and made to leave. The woman took a few quick steps towards the shore, reaching out a hand in an apparently involuntary gesture.

"Wait," she said. "Can you... can you make me beautiful?"

"Oh, sure, that's easy," said the fish. "Nothing to it. I mean, if that's really what you want to waste a wish on. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have that flying pony instead? Ain't nobody gonna be looking at your face when you're riding a flying pony, and it sure makes it easier to get around."

She shook her head. "No. I'm just so tired of being ugly. All the women snicker at me, the men never look at me, my husband can barely stand to be in the same room with me... He thinks I don't know that he's cheating on me, but I do. I'm not stupid. Everyone thinks that because I'm ugly I must be stupid, too, but I'm not. I just want people to stop looking at me like there's something wrong with me - like I'm not even a person..."

"Sure, sure, I can do that," said the fish soothingly. "No problem. Easiest thing in the world. But, you know, there's one thing you aren't taking into account."

"What?"

The fish looked pointedly at her midsection. "You're gonna have a kid, aren't you? Hey, you don't have to answer - you look like you're going to pop any second. I could make you look like whatever you like, sure, but that won't change what your kid is going to look like, and let's face it: your kid is going to look just like you. Do you really want to put your baby through all that?"

Aurite saw the woman's hands go to her belly, and his own hands tightened in anger. She was being manipulated, and there was no doubt in Kinshiro's mind that she was going to fall for it. Being a primordial force, he'd never had a mother of his own, but he'd watched humanity long enough to understand that a woman might do anything for the sake of her child. The meekest, sweetest doormat of a woman could turn into an apparition fit to terrify a hardened warrior if her baby's well-being was on the line. There was no doubt in Kinshiro's mind that this woman felt the same way. Even as he watched, emotions flashed across her face: resentment, stubbornness, dawning realization, resolution.

"No," she whispered.

"That's right," the fish crooned. "Okay, so your life stinks, and that's too bad, but what's done is done, right? Your kid has a whole life ahead of them. You should give them the life they deserve. You can make sure they don't suffer like you did."

"You can do that?" she asked, her voice small.

The fish nodded. "That's right. I can fix it so your child isn't just beautiful - they'll be the most beautiful person on earth - maybe even the most beautiful who ever lived. People will come from miles around just to get a look at them. There's just one little price."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's that?"

"They'll never marry any man or woman. No one on earth will ever be good enough for them."

The woman considered this a moment. Her mouth pressed itself into a firm line.

"Being married hasn't done me any good," she said. "As long as she won't be alone..."

"Like I said, people are going to be lining up just to say hello," the fish promised.

"Then yes, I make the bargain," said the woman. She tentatively held out a hand, and the fish curled a flipper around one of her fingers and shook it.

"Pleasure doin' business with you, lady," he said. With a flip of his tail, he turned a backflip and dove down into the river.

Aurite pushed the mirror away with a disgusted gesture.

"If I ever get my hands on that fish..." he muttered. "It wasn't a girl, was it? She thought she was going to have a daughter, but she had a son. Akoya."

Sulfur nodded, tucking the mirror up one of his sleeves. "So it would seem. Now do you understand our concern?"

Aurite nodded. "And I see now why I didn't catch it sooner. The fish tricked her into promising on behalf of her child, so he wouldn't bear any blame that I could see, and she didn't promise or ask anything that was actually wrong. The world is full of people who don't get married, and as our friend Akoya would be the first to tell us, there's no law against being beautiful."

"But this isn't your everyday garden-variety good looks," said Vesta. "It's the kind of thing that messes with people's heads. It's too subtle to hit anyone who wouldn't have already been inclined that way, but the ones who do get taken by it go a little crazy."

"I understand," said Aurite. "That proviso - the one that says he'll never marry a man or woman - I believe that may be our way out. I doubt that fish planned this scheme on his own, and I'm sure he hasn't got the power to pull off something like this without help. I think there's a greater demon behind all this, and he planned to take advantage of that loophole. After all, a demon isn't technically a man or a woman."

Vesta's's eyes widened. "You mean some demon set all this up just so he could force Akoya to marry them? Ick!"

"Even so," Aurite agreed. "Though in this case, I believe our demon may have outsmarted themselves. The curse, such as it is, would be primed to break as soon as Akoya is married, and gods are no more men and women than demons are. Once he has made his choice and taken his vows, the curse will be broken and the unnatural fascination he holds over others will fade. He will still be attractive, but not irresistibly so."

"So we just keep doing as we have been," Sulfur summarized. "Well, that's reassuring."

"Your place is to keep an eye on him and encourage him to conclude his courtship as quickly as possible," said Aurite to both of them. "As for me, I will be looking into the identity and location of this demon. I don't like people playing tricks like this, and when I find him..."

His hands clenched, and for a moment there was a suggestion of a golden bow in the air in front of him, as the thought of what he was planning to do called the essence of his favored weapon to him.

"Tell us all about it when you get back," said Vesta. He stood up. "Are we all done here?"

"I believe so, yes," said Aurite. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"It was the least we could do," said Sulfur politely.

The two of them faded out, leaving Aurite alone in his office, feeling far less satisfied than he had before. Blasted demons. Some of them were getting entirely too sneaky. He was going to have to start paying a lot more attention to the things they were doing. He would start by paying attention to anything that might bring him closer to finding the demon responsible for this mess. When he found it - which he was certain he would - that demon wouldn't be planning a wedding. Oh, no, it was going to be planning a funeral.