Page 57 of Sequel to the Easter Bunny

He feeds me as we wait and I lean back against him, soaking in his warmth for as long as I can.

A sharp clap echoes through the space and everyone goes silent.

“I have been brought a gift!” Diyo says, to the rest of them. “Bring it forward, my decadent little flower.”

Jack helps me to my feet once again and I lead the way to the foot of Dyo’s throne, bag in hand.

Diyo casts a displeased glance over me and waves their hand. “This… is not a look worthy of a woman like you.”

“That isn’t a decision you get to make.” I set the bag on the table beside me and dig through it. “I have brought you options.”

The first thing I toss to them are the castanets. They look at them suspiciously, but once I show them how to play with them, they clack merrily away, hooves stomping a discordant beat.

The pure joy on their face is startling, and I wonder if that was all it would take, but they toss them to one of their devotees—who picks up the clacking—and turn back to me, brows high. “What else have you brought me, my lovely?”

I hand them the kazoo next, and they seem disappointed by the plastic. But one of their devotees excitedly joins them and shows them how to use it.

Jack stands beside me, grimacing at the soft sound.

“Just you wait,” I murmur under my breath.

The recorder and cowbell are met with similar zeal, as are the zills.

They wind up wearing the tambourine as a hat when they hold out their hands again, fingers wiggling, waiting for the last item in my bag.

I take a deep breath, handing over the harmonica. “That is probably going to be most like your flute.”

They grab it greedily and try it as if it was the flute at first, but I don’t have to correct them as they pull it to their lips correctly and blow through it in wheezing breaths.

The din as Diyo and his devotees screech and clank and clatter the collected instruments all at once is catastrophically noisy.

A cacophony of pure chaos.

“Delightful!” Diyo shouts over the others as they hop down off their throne. “I will keep them all!”

They join Jack and I, taking one of each of our hands and lead us away from the revelry.

With trembling hands and watering eyes, they take the flute from their hip. Offering it to me with a fake and forced smile—a tiny whimper leaves their throat when I touch it—they release it to me.

It’s oddly heavy in my hand. The metal that looks like wood is colder than I expect.

“Please be careful with it.” Their lips purse in a scowl. “I know Juun will probably destroy it, but one lives forever in hope. And if I can get it back some day….” There’s a horrific crash behind them and they laugh, suddenly bright and carefree again. “Don’t forget me when this is over.”

They turn from us, shouting back to the others and snatching the harmonica from one of their devotees as soon as it’s back in their hands, they join the din without a backward glance to us.

Wincing, Jack pulls me close to him, and darkness wraps around us as he takes us both to the entrance of Juun’s domain.

“Don’t be long.” Jack raises my hand to his lips. “I’ll wait for you for eternity if I need to, but I want you back as soon as I can have you.”

A Fair Exchange

Juun doesn’t ask me if I’m there to beg for mercy this time.

She stands from her throne of exhausted and bleeding men, and comes to me.

The clumps of cacti digging into their skin distract me, but not for long.

Each step she takes sounds like knives dragging over stone, and I have to look at the god whose narrowed eyes are fixed on the flute in my hand.

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