Page 27 of Possession

Ryan, in the corner, nods, seeming just as affected. It’s so strange.

You forget, I am God to them.

I quietly wonder what that makes me. Mother Mary? What a joke.

Silva takes a few more shuddering breaths before clearing his throat. With a smile, he is composed once again. “Now, it goes without saying that the entirety of the Following’s resources are yours for the taking. But we do have a request.”

More? Aris demands, and I think of Silva asking for blessings last night.

“You want more?” I say aloud. I don’t often speak for Aris, but his anger is palpable from within.

Somehow, he understands that this is coming from Aris, and Silva’s eyes go wide. He nods and immediately bows his head in reverence, now speaking to his clean plate. “This request is for your attendance at a banquet to be held in your honor. Our President, the chapter leaders of other regions, as well as my chapter members, are elated at your arrival and would like nothing more than to meet and celebrate your freedom.”

Apparently finished, Silva dares to look up, and the hope in his eyes is infantile.

Well, Aris?

A banquet in my honor, he says? If Silva could feel the smug satisfaction dripping off of Aris, he would probably sully himself in joy. Well, it must be grand.

“It needs to be fancy,” I say with a sigh and take another bite.

I miss the look on Silva’s face, but his excitement is obvious in his voice. “Of course!” he says. “Of course it will be. Nothing but the best!”

Aris hums, content as I start to eat again. Silva has taken out a ledger and is writing something furiously, which lets me chew in peace—but not in silence. It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten with just my own thoughts to keep me company. Now, I talk to Aris through meals. It’s almost like television.

Why don’t you like eating, Aris?

I have no interest in it. You do it for us.

But you never ate before me? I can picture you sitting on a chaise in ancient Egypt, someone fanning you while a half-naked girl feeds you figs.

No. I was busy with other things.

I think about that for a moment. He’s told me a few stories about his past times on Earth. Archeologists can find him on pottery, coins, and primitive art, but there isn’t anything substantial to mark his time here: No Stonehenge, no Sphynx, no walls stretching dozens of miles.

There were temples.

Still, I’m surprised you never had anyone build a huge statue of you. It seems on brand.

They were doing other things for me.

Like human sacrifice and so on, I say, mainly joking.

And so on. There was much to give your species. You were behind in so many ways. I think I even taught math.

Wow, you really are evil.

I am, and have much more to teach. He stirs in excitement and asks politely, May I come out?

With a sigh, I push the fallen sleeve back onto my shoulder. I’m not surprised he’s asking now—throughout our conversation, I’ve slowly filled my stomach, and I’m pretty much done now. Will you give the body back?

Once I’ve had my fair share of time.

That’s ominous enough to twist my lips into a wry smile. I don’t even notice I’ve done it until I see Ryan’s head tilt, and I bite my bottom lip to hide my amusement. Well, “fair share” doesn’t mean two weeks or anything, right?

I’d like a few hours. If he had lips, he would be smiling, too.

I consider the offer as I put my napkin on my plate. Part of me wonders if the act will summon the rude maid, but the doors don’t open, and nothing changes—Silva is still writing, distracted, and Ryan stands stoically.

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