58. Call Waiting

Jonathon and Jessica found themselves strolling through a garden, surrounded by waving grass. On their right was quite an impressive bed of roses, and a few yards away, a tree with a swing.

"You're handling this all pretty well." Jonathon ventured, trying very carefully not to look at the tree too closely.

"I was going to say the same thing about you."

"Well, when your girlfriend-"

Jessica pulled up short and gawked at him. "Wait. Did you just call Myria your girlfriend?"

Jonathon closed his eyes and his ears reddened. "I got confused," he muttered miserably.

A slow smile spread over her face. "No you didn't. You most definitely just called Myria your 'girlfriend', and there wasn't any confusion there at all."

"Look, don't star-"

"Girlfriend! Girlfriend! Jonny's got a girlfriend!" Jessica lilted at her cousin.

Jonathon stared at her until she frowned. "You can stop any time, Jessie."

His cousin shook her head. "You know, you used to be a lot more fun, before you got a girlfriend."

Jonathan sighed. "Honestly Jessie, how old are you again?" That just got an eyebrow from the teen. And on top of that, he could see the tree just past her head, and it was clamouring for attention. He shook himself. "What were we talking about?"

"How well you're taking all this."

"Right. Right. I was saying, considering what I've seen, with Myria trying to tear a hole in reality, and some of Susan's earlier hints, well I guess I was kind of prepared." He narrowed his eyes at her. "What's your excuse?"

Jessica shuddered. "Watching Susan banish nightmares with The Poker. I think I was prepared for pretty much anything after that."

They were both silent for a moment, and Jonathon found his attention drawn inexorably to the swing on the nearby tree. Jessica, following his gaze, followed suit.

The grass continued to wave in the breeze. Black grass. Waving in a nonexistent breeze. And they really were such beautiful black roses…

Jonathon made a quiet noise in the back of his throat.

"Well, maybe not prepared for anything," Jessica continued. "The swing is a bit of a puzzler, isn't it? I have the urge to go sit in it, and I 'spect that if I did the tree would pancake on top of me."[1]

"Yeah. I'd resist that urge, for once in your life."

It had been a definite shock, meeting Susan's grandfather. Death had merely regarded them calmly, pale blue pinpricks fixed on their faces, waiting for them to either introduce themselves or run screaming from the room.

Jessica had been the first to find her voice. "Well, that explains a lot, doesn't it?"

Death tilted his head, in much the same way one would if a squirrel walked up to you and commented on the weather. Still looking at Jessica, he addressed his granddaughter. WHEN I SUGGESTED THAT YOU HANDLE YOUR FRIENDS DIFFERENTLY THAN YOUR USUAL STUDENTS, THIS IS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED.

"Yes, well I considered dancing about the issue, and then considered who I was dealing with."

SO IT SEEMS. SHE DOES NOT APPEAR TO BE SCREAMING, WHICH IS PROMISING.

Jonathon felt the question escape his mouth, despite his best efforts to contain it. "So…" he coughed "Mister… that is sir. You're…. Death?"

Death turned his attention to the young man, who seemed more affected than the girl.

IN A MANNER OF SPEAKING. IT MAY PERHAPS BE MORE PRECISE TO THINK OF ME AS A SHEPHERD, TENDING A FLOCK, LEADING THEM TO GREENER PASTURES.

"But…"

IF YOU PREFER, YOU COULD THINK OF ME AS A GUIDE THROUGH THE TREACHOROUS ROCKFALLS ALONG THE PATH TO THE AFTERLIFE, ASSISTING ALL IN REACHING THEIR DESTINATION WITHOUT FAVOR TOWARD ANY.

"Okay…"

OR PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BETTER TO THINK OF ME AS A DOORWARDEN. YES THAT IS PROBABLY CLOSER. I DO NOT CREATE THE DOOR, NOR DO I FORCE ONE TO ENTER. BUT WHEN IT IS TIME, I AM THERE, TO HOLD IT OPEN FOR YOU.

"Honestly Grandfather, don't you think that's a bit melodramatic?"

I HAVE DISCOVERED THAT I ENJOY POETRY PERHAPS MORE THAN IS HEALTHY. THERE IS A CERTAIN SATISFACTION IN SEEING A PHRASE WELL TURNED. I THOUGHT TO MAKE AN EFFORT.

"I appreciate the attempt."

"I'm beginning to see the family resemblance." Jessica quipped.

"That is quite enough."

YOU ARE PERSPICACIOUS.

"I…" Jessica's mouth worked as she tried to parse the sentence. Out of the corner of her mouth she stage-whispered to Susan, "Is that good?"

"It quite depends on one's mood at the time. Come, let me introduce you to Albert."

"Is he a skeleton too?"

"Not if he can avoid it."

Myria nearly dropped her book when, with a soft pop, a golden man with a winged hat and sandals appeared in her study.

"Relax, kid, I come in peace bearing a message of goodwill and such."

"Who are you?" She reached out with senses not yet dulled by humanity. "You are not human, nor are you an Auditor."

"Io said you were sharp. So you ready for the message?"

"I am unsure. Whom am I addressing?"

He made face. "Who am I? But- Oh sorry, forgot you weren't in the club yet. Fedecks, Divine Messenger and Deliverer of Portents of Import. No scroll too big. No prophesy too small. Tips appreciated." The last rolled off his tongue as if rehearsed.[2]

Myria blinked, looked at the door and considered that it had not opened. And the fact that the windows were high on the wall and did not open. And determined that based on the evidence it was likely this entity was as he claimed.

"I see. And the purpose of your visit to my domicile?"

"I've got a message for you, didn't I say?"

Neural matter geared up, provided a probable conclusion. And also the conclusion that, whatever their other attributes, it was likely they knew exactly what she was. "Which of the deities of this world wishes to send me a message."

"Io himself. Seems the senior gods, may their light shine upon this mortal plane forever, had a bit of a celestial executive session about you."

"And the conclusion?"

"I'm just the messenger, lady. Not to be killed or peppered with 2000 questions. I have other deliveries, you know. Can I just deliver the message?"

Myria was tempted to respond in the negative. She did not believe that there could be any good result of coming to the attention of the beings that styled themselves the Gods of the Disc. But at the same time, she realized that ignorance was unlikely to be any protection. "Unhappily, I believe I must receive your message."

"Alright. Stand by." And he stood straight and froze in place, eyes turning milky white and then glowing with an inner light of red, green, and blue dots. After a few seconds of chaos, they resolved themselves into a beam, which projected an image in the space between them.

The image of a man with classical Tsortian features, a flowing beard, and empty eye sockets regarded her. "Lady Myria LeJean, after careful consultation, the Counsel of Divine Entities have reached the determination that your continued presence in the mortal plane is a risk to its continued proper functioning. As such, while we considered a bit of divine snuffing-"

"But… I do not…."

The image frowned. "Interruptions displease us." He affected a grim expression. "I would draw your attention to events mere weeks ago in a certain cemetery. The cold? A classic indication of thaumic drain. Near-mortal, you were tapped into the fundamental energy field that underlies the Disc. That sort of thing keeps up, and either reality cracks or you do."

"Surely your reasoning is flawed." Io scowled deeply, and Myria could feel a slight feeling crawl up her spine and her hair fluff out ever so slightly. "My apologies. But are there not numerous anthropomorphic personifications manifesting themselves on this plane daily? It is my understanding that they change reality all the time."

Io seemed slightly mollified. "That's a fair question, though a bit more obeisance wouldn't go amiss." He cleared his godly throat. "Yes, there are these so-called personifications[3]. But they have rules. Limitations. The Hogfather, the Tooth Fairy, even Death do visit this domain, but they do not reside in it. And they don't wander around Ankh Morpork rearranging reality. There are rules for those who are non-mortal, and consequences for breaking those rules."

Myria absorbed his words, and felt her eyes begin to sting. Surely there must be a way! "I only wish to be human. Can you not leave me to my efforts?"

Several dozen eyeballs focused on her or each other. "Near mortal, your feeble attempts at prevarication are no match for my divine sight. You are no more prepared to be human that any of us would be." His mouth wrinkled at the thought, and then his face softened. "And so, to our invitation. Shuffle off this mortal coil and join us."

A shock ran through her. This was not what she was expecting his next word to be. "You… wish me to become one such as you?"

He laughed, and she though there was an undertone of mocking in it. "Not quote such as our most divine self. A minor deity, of course, but free to gather worshippers and exercise your influence in a more acceptable and indirect fashion. One that doesn't tear holes in reality or stop time, to name a few hypothetical examples."

"But what of Jonathon?"

"The mortal male? If you like, you can have him as your special project. He can be your high priest, as it were."

"This is not my desire! I do not wish this!"

The image began fading. "Wishes aren't prayers, near-mortal. Take some time to consider this, rationally. I'm confident in your answer." I've got several wagers riding on it. "You sense, already, the danger you pose. With each attempt to use your particular abilities, you court your own destruction, and irreparable harm to this plane of reality. Think on this, but not overlong."

Fedecks snapped back, and staggered slightly, eyes clearing. "You know, I hate clairvoyant conferencing. I really do." He straightened his winged hat. "So any message for me to take back in person?"

Myria clenched her hands, feeling a surge of… sadness? desperation? Perhaps these, mixed with a hint of anger and stubbornness. "No… at this time, I have nothing to say to Dunmanifestin."

[1] The swing was, in fact, made for Susan by Death when she was just a wee lass. And she used it for many years before realizing that it was not, in fact, reasonable for the swing to pass through an entirely missing section of the tree trunk. Not to mention that gravity would ordinarily have had strong words with the crown of the tree regarding its obstinance in refusing to fall down.

[2] He'd spent several millennia working on that.

[3] The Gods had a bit of a hate-[pretend-they-didn't-exists] relationship with the various personifations. The fact that a thunderbolt had absolutely no impact on Death had placed that disagreement on hold indefinitely.