"You're downsizing?" Cardea couldn't believe she'd heard correctly.
"It's not that you're not an important member of the pantheon." Mercury said. But he didn't sound as sympathetic as Cardea would have liked from someone who was essentially firing her. "It's just that the higher-ups feel that the pantheon's getting a bit crowded, you know? And your position does seem a bit... redundant."
Cardea felt her heart beat faster, her blood pressure rising. "And just who is going to be replacing me?"
"We think Janus can handle it."
"Janus?" But he was the one who put her in charge in the first place! Was this his way of telling her she wasn't doing a good job? Or was he just being his usual, duplicitous self? Stupid Janus, Cardea grumbled to herself. Always looking forward, always backwards. She bet if she had eyes in the back of her head – not just eyes, but an entire face – she'd be a lot more observant too. Really, he should be even better than he was, all things considered.
"You know – Janus." Mercury supplied when she didn't say anything else. "God of beginnings, endings, transitions...Seems he'd be good at doorways and passages too, doesn't it?"
"But he doesn't even know the first thing about–" she started.
"About doors?" Mercury smirked. "I'm sure he'll figure it out."
"It's not just doors." Cardea scoffed. So now they were firing her and they didn't even know what she did? Oh, they were going to regret this!
"I know. Door hinges, right?" Mercury smirked. She wasn't sure she liked the tone.
"Door hinges are a very important part of everyday life." Cardea explained patiently. "Did you know there are nine major types of hinges?" She began listing them on her fingers. "There's spring hinges, and flush hinges, and strap hinges, and–"
"Yeah, that's great." Mercury cut her off. "Anyway... I'd say I'll be seeing you, but..."
"So where do you expect me to go?" Cardea asked haughtily.
"Well, there's a big, wide world outside, isn't there? I'm sure you'll think of something."
Cardea opened her mouth to tell Mercury where she thought he should go, but a blinding silver light swirled around her. The next thing she knew, she was standing on the corner in some smoggy city, humans brushing past her on their way to whatever mundane things they did all day.
"Cardea!" someone shouted. She turned around and saw a tall man with curly hair walking towards her with a goofy grin and a big wave. Forculus. And he wasn't alone. A somewhat shorter man with piercing eyes, Limentinus, was walking just behind him. Cardea rolled her eyes. She should have known she'd see these two.
"Are you retired too then?" Forculus asked.
"Forcibly retired." Cardea grumbled.
"Fired." Limentinus supplied. Cardea glared.
Still, she had to admit, she was glad to see that neither of them had held onto their positions either. If she was going to be let go, it was only right that they were too. After all, what did they even do? Forculus was the god of doors, and Limentinus was in charge of thresholds. Those didn't exactly scream important to her.
"How dare they?" Forculus thundered. "Do they even realize how vital I am? Just look around you." He gestured at the buildings all around them. When neither Cardea nor Limentinus broke eye contact, he nodded proddingly. "Go on, look."
Cardea glanced around the bustling street, watching the humans coming out of their buildings, getting into little yellow cars and speeding away. Other humans would pull up shortly and go back into those buildings. She was fairly certain this was humanity's favorite thing to do. Was this surprising to Forculus?
"Don't you see all the doors?" Forculus asked, grandly sweeping his arm out. "How could they say I'm not needed?"
"...What is it you actually do?" Cardea asked.
"I'm the God of Doors." Forculus said incredulously, as if he couldn't believe she'd known him all this time and still hadn't figured out just how essential he was to the whole operation. But that was the problem; he was only god of the doors themselves. If they didn't spontaneously combust, didn't that mean he'd done his job? Was there really a difference between having a good of doors and not having one?
Cardea snuck a glance at Limentinus and saw he was looking almost as unimpressed as she felt.
"...Is that all?" Limentinus asked.
"Is that all? It's the entire point! Without me, there's just a big hole, isn't there?"
"Without the door, you mean."
"Well what do you do? Keep the dried plants on the floor from accidentally getting outside?" Forculus jeered.
"Don't be ridiculous – humans haven't done that in years." Limentinus scoffed. "But the threshold is still very important. It helps close the gap between the floor and your precious door. Did you know there are five major types of thresh–"
"Nope – don't care." Forculus snapped.
Cardea idly listened to them bicker. Of course, she had the most important job of the three; she had to actually do something. And making sure all the hinges worked was important – not like either of these two who just made sure the pieces stayed in place. But she was suddenly starting to see why maybe downsizing wasn't such a bad idea.
Suddenly, Cardea had an idea; she'd go to Aequitas. Aequitas was in charge of justice, equality, and fairness. There was no way they'd downsize someone like that. All Cardea had to do was explain how unfair the whole thing was, and Aequitas would have to agree; they'd reinstate her for sure. Cardea turned on her heel, making her way down the street.
"Hey! Where're you going?" Forculus called after her.
"To petition Aequitas." she said, not turning around.
"That's a fantastic idea! She'll see that I'm returned to my rightful place." Forculus said enthusiastically.
Cardea scoffed under her breath.
"But how are you going to get to her? It's not like she's in this city. And you're not a god anymore, remember?"
Cardea stopped. Slowly, she turned back to the idiot on the sidewalk beaming at her.
"Do you know how to get to her?" Cardea could barely believe she was even asking someone like him.
"Naturally." Forculus grinned. "And I'll even show you. After breakfast."
"Breakfast?" Cardea wanted to get her job back; she didn't want to have breakfast with her two most useless coworkers.
"Sure. This place," Forculus jerked his head towards the other side of the street, "has the best eggs Benedict in the world."
Cardea exchanged looks with Limentinus.
"Come on." Forculus coaxed. "Cinnamon-sugar French toast? Bacon cheddar hash?"
"Fine." Cardea said, her stomach growling.
"I could eat." Limentinus shrugged.
The two of them followed Forculus towards the green-marbled building. As they entered, the ever-tactful Forculus couldn't help but point out the rotating door.
"Now there's a door." he said.
Cardea couldn't see what was so wonderful about it. No, threshold, no hinges. And the motor would be handled by Fulgora. As they entered the lobby, she conjured a rod and jammed it between the door and the frame before casually strolling into the restaurant. Limentinus gave an appreciative nod.
The French toast was surprisingly good. She was almost willing to concede that Forculus wasn't entirely pointless.
"So...Aequitas." Cardea said.
"Oh...right." Forculus replied through a mouthful of pancakes. "Like I said, she's not here."
"And like you also said, you know where she is."
"The courthouse. Next town over." He had the nerve to look at her like she was the idiot.
"What's she doing there?"
"Well, she's got a lot of meetings, doesn't she? I mean, how many gods do you think are petitioning her? Where else is she going to be?"
Cardea scoffed. She slammed her fist on the table as she stood up. The tables nearest carefully pretended not to notice. Why was she wasting her time sitting here with him? As she stormed away from that infuriating duo, she heard Limentinus calling her. Then, the quick shuffling of feet. Forculus was still sitting casually at the table, finishing his coffee.
"Maybe we should leave him here." Limentinus said bitterly as he approached. He glanced back at Forculus, who was slowly prying himself out of his chair. "What does he even bring to the team?"
Cardea arched her eyebrow at the word team, but decided to let it go. Besides, Limentinus was a bit like Cardea; both of them were under-appreciated, always playing second fiddle to Forculus.
"We don't need him." Limentinus scowled.
"Of course you do." Forculus said dismissively. "If I'm not there, what are you even good for? Just to trip humans carrying their groceries home?" Then, he turned to Cardea. "And you need me even more. And you know it."
Cardea set her jaw, not able to admit he was right. What good were hinges without a door? Thresholds could at least mark the difference between one room and another. But doorless hinges? At least Forculus didn't say it out loud.
"Fine." she grumbled.
"Excellent." Forculus beamed. "Shall I call us a taxi?"
At least the ride to the courthouse was short, and Cardea ignored her two cohorts for the most part. But when they pulled up to the front, the place was worryingly crowded. They threaded their way through the throng of indignant gods. And when they went inside, everything was being managed by a tall, matronly woman with a no-nonsense attitude and hair pulled into a severe bun.
"Abeona." Cardea muttered to herself. The goddess of departures. It seemed the higher-ups were trying to send them all a not-so-subtle message. If Abeona was organizing the horde, their odds were slim to none. Still, what did they have to lose? They put their names on the list and were informed that they would be seen, as a group, Thursday after next. Cardea tried not to be incensed at being lumped in with these two yet again. Unlike either of them, she actually had a case.
Cardea stormed out the doors, the sound of hinges squealing offensively in her ears. She thought about fixing it but stopped herself. That was Janus's job now – surely he could do it. Forculus stepped up next to her, letting out a deep breath and looking flabbergasted.
"To think they put me – or...us–" he amended quickly when he saw her face "–on a waitlist!"
"Wonder of wonders." Limentinus mumbled.
Forculus didn't seem to hear him. Instead he looked up at the sky, apparently lost in thought. Then, he turned to his colleagues.
"Well, shall we?" he said, brightening as he looked at them.
"Shall we what?" Cardea asked.
"We've got time to kill, don't we? Let's make the most of this city."
"The three of us?" Cardea asked flatly.
"You've got something better to do?"
Cardea shrugged. She'd been planning on moping about the city, maybe seeing how many hinges she could get to rust into nothingness. But maybe he had a point. So what did humans do around here for fun?
"You know, they do have some of the best roller coasters in the world not far from here." Limentinus grinned.
"We could do that..." Cardea had never been on a roller coaster before. Usually, she was just too busy making sure everything functioned the way it should.
They entered the park, and Cardea's senses were immediately assaulted with bright colors and old cooking oil. The place was filled with humans running around and talking loudly. From somewhere off to the right, she heard a wave of screams. What did Limentinus see in a place like this?
Still, she let him lead her to a giant blue track that soared high above their heads. Limentinus told her the best seats were in the back, and of course Forculus disagreed.
"Front's way better – everyone knows that." he said confidently before sauntering off.
"He just has to be difficult." Limentinus grumbled.
"I figured he just wanted all eyes on him – even if it was just the back of his head." Cardea said. Limentinus snickered.
They made it to the front, and Cardea eyed the little metal gates with their flaky green paint. She'd seen that Forculus was going to be on the same train as them. Without thinking, Cardea rusted the hinges on his gate shut just as the rest swung open. Cardea and Limentinus got on and secured their harnesses while the employees were still trying to open Forculus's gate. Limentinus snickered when he saw what she'd done.
Finally, Forculus grew tired of waiting, and the door suddenly disappeared. He sauntered onto the roller coaster like he was Jupiter himself. The gate problem finally solved, the ride started moving.
She had to admit, it was thrilling, if a bit disorienting. Slowly they went up, up, up before being plunged down towards the earth. They twisted and turned, looking first at the sky, then at the lake below. She hadn't gone this fast since that time she'd stolen Mercury's winged shoes.
They went on every single ride in the park. And while Cardea could honestly say it was the best time she'd had in millennia, it wasn't just the rides that made her day. Every time she passed by a door, a gate, or even a locker, she eyed the hinges. Were they still working without her there? She hated to admit it, but everything seemed fine so far. But there was no way that Janus was responsible; maybe it just took a day or two for everything to fall to pieces. It was good to know she could take a small vacation from time to time. She'd have to keep that in mind – once she got her job back.
Still, having a day off didn't mean she was content to let things just slide downhill – at least, not without her help. So every time they passed by the gate to get on a ride, she decided to have a little fun. She'd loosen hinges, rust them shut, bend the hinge pins – thing like that. It caused the humans endless confusion. And with any luck, it would show the rest of the gods just how needed she really was. Cardea grinned to herself. Once she'd managed to ruin every hinge in the park, she could sit back and enjoy the day. The gods would realize how vital she was, and she'd definitely be getting reinstated. But for now, the world's tallest roller coaster was calling her name.104Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZB3s3Ws9zQ
