Kingfisher is a story about humanity, about divinity, where the two meet and where they never will. It follows the life of Keaton Gwynt Packard (just call him Gwynt) - who is better known to humanity at large as the god Aeolus, Lord of Air and Regent of the Winds. And who also just happens to be a country-raised guy from the Ozarks of Missouri.

How to describe the tale? Assume that the gods exist for as long as they have believers. Assume further that they do not inhabit some divine or astral plane, but instead are here, among us, living the lives we ourselves live. Kingfisher takes place on Earth, inasmuch as you will see familiar cities and familiar cultures, but there's a lot more going on than meets the eye - no matter how mundane the scenario you're looking at. I suppose in a way this story is my attempt (ah, the grandiose purpose!) to explain such inexplicable things as Why Pain, Why Suffering, Why Sorrow.

It is also my attempt to reconcile all the faiths of the world both with each other and with observable fact. Kingfisher is of necessity a tale of religion and faith, where the two meet and where they don't, and I present it as a view only; not even necessarily my own.

The Greeks once said, "If the gods do evil then they are not gods."

Kingfisher says, "Even gods are only human."







The night was very, very quiet, in the way of summer nights. The faint horn of a passing train was just audible if you were willing to stick your head out of the window.

Inside it was an entirely different scenario. Five people in one flat - the money wasn't there for a house and none of them wanted to settle down anyway - made for the kind of scenarios that future sitcom writers might dream of with sharklike smiles.

A sitcom would have had a better balance of male to female, though. Of the five residents, four were men - and three were playing poker.

Cho was debating opening the window just to have air that wasn't filled with smoke to breathe. Aeolus could separate the particles of air, but he often didn't remember to do so unless he was asked. On the other hand, she could keep the room fairly cool. If she opened the window, the muggy summer night would quickly take over.

Sean plunked down next to her on the couch and handed her a cold bottle of beer, his scarlet ankle wings fluttering as he rested his feet on open air. "Cold as they come," he said, with the faint lilt of someone whose parents had come from another country. "Bored?"

Cho shrugged. "We need to get moving. Why here, anyway? There's nothing to do in Kansas."

Sean rolled his eyes with a grin. "Because the boss said we're here, so we're here," he replied cheerfully. "I think he wanted a break, to be honest. Korea was a little rough."

"Korea was enough to make me swear off rice for the next five centuries," quipped Thomas from the poker table. "Kansas is fine. Boring is good."

"Sit your ass down and deal," growled Aeolus. "Or don't." He stood up and stretched, ran fingers over buzz-cut light brown hair. "Shit. This haze yours, Moe, or everybody's?"

Notus gave Aeolus a black eyed glare. "Your nose shut down?" he asked. "It's tobacco."

Aeolus blinked. "Don't remember smokin' that much," he grumbled, and held out his hand. Smoke haze gathered from around the room into his palm, the sphere growing smaller and denser until an ash-gray and nicotine-yellow ball dropped solidly to the floor. "Sorry about that, girl," he said to Cho. "You want to join the game?"

"Not really," Cho said, shaking her head. "When do we get to have some fun?"

Aeolus cocked his head at her. "What kinda fun you want?" he asked.

Thomas made a lewd face. "What kind of fun does popsicle toes usually want?" he asked, pushing back his chair. "Just take her off for a while into the other room, and we'll save your seat at the table when you've worn her out."

Moe's wings weren't like the others' - his wings were mist, becoming more or less opaque with his temper. They were nearly solid as he snarled at Zephyr: "Keep your lip to yourself."

Cho raised her hand to forestall the argument that was about to start. "Not tonight, guys," she said flatly. "I just want something more interesting than staring at the stars."

Sean was frowning. "Does this place have woodpeckers?" he asked, just as glass shattered under metal spikes strapped around shoe soles. In no time at all, it seemed, the flat was filled with black-clad men with axes in their hands.

"Get her out!" roared Aeolus, reacting with a soldier's instinct to attack, grabbing a chair and slamming into the face of an assailant.

"Got your back!" cried Moe, moving to stand behind Aeolus, a pair of butterfly knives flickering to sharp-edged life in his hands.

Sean grabbed Cho's wrist and ran for the door. "Tom! Cover us!"

Cho was torn between the desire to fight and obedience to the implied order - Aeolus had commanded them to 'get her out' and she was the only 'she' in the room. There had to be a survivor. There always had to be a survivor. Aeolus and Notus were already fighting back to back, soldier's instincts kicking in as they worked in tandem. Tom - Zephyr - followed Aeolus' opener by grabbing another chair and shoving it at a swinging axe, clearing the way for Sean to get the door open. He fled with her down the hall, scarlet flame-wings spreading for extra speed.

"Got to get away," he gasped, and Cho yanked her wrist away from his grip.

"I can run just fine on my own!" she snapped, then shoved Sean ahead of her. as doors slammed open.

"They've surrounded the building!" Eurus cried as he heard a choked scream from down the hall.

"Tom..." mourned Cho, as Sean grabbed her and redirected her flight.

"This way! Take the stairwell, head for the roof! I've got my orders and you are by damn getting out of here!"

Sean wasn't a soldier but he was an accomplished brawler, the winner of many a street fight, and he charged their pursuers.

Cho fled, trying not to think about who these people were or how many there might be or whether anyone besides Zephyr had been defeated. She had to escape, had to get free, had to be the safety net for all of them just in case. She wasn't the fastest but she was the strongest of the four of them, and when she was caught she squirmed and kicked and broke whatever she could until she won her way to the stairwell and straight up to the roof.

They'd had someone there, too, knowing their targets. But no human fanatic was a match for the strength of Boreas, and Cho was soon flying free toward the sky.

Get her out!

She could see the lights of their flat, but she didn't dare risk coming too close until she could see no black-clad axe carriers moving around.

They'd either won or lost - Cho flew back cautiously. Tom was already dead, probably Sean too. Moe was devoted to Aeolus and would die to defend him, but there had been so many...

The floor was swimming in blood when she flew through the broken window. They were not all dead, after all. Two of the assassins were bent over Aeolus and Notus, and she didn't wait to see what they were doing - she rushed them both, slamming their heads into each other and then into the wall as hard as she could. The crack told her she'd broken their necks.

Aeolus... she didn't know his name, even. Only Notus knew - had known, for the South Wind's body was on the floor in a pool of blood, and the bodies of the Winds only touched the earth in childhood or in death. But he'd done his best - Aeolus was still breathing, eyes half-lidded and dull.

She thought he might have trouble breathing so she pulled him half upright to see what aid he needed, and nearly dropped him again as she saw the axe, buried almost to the handle in his skull. Part of her mind made the comment that surely that had been a strong arm, to swing such an axe and get it so far into such a hard head. The rest of her was panicking - there was no way to remove it without killing him.

"Aeolus...can you hear me?" she asked quietly, trying not to think about what was coming.

Eyelids flickered over dull, pale eyes. "...'s...."

Don't cry. Not now. Not yet. Time enough for that later. "Is there anything you want me to do?"

Aeolus' breathing was slowing down. "'let...keys..." eyelids twitched a little. "ssave...heads..."

Cho swallowed. "You want me to save...the axe heads?" she asked. What he wanted them for she had no idea, but it wasn't a pleasant notion.

"...'s..." His eyes were almost closed.

"Don't you die on me," Cho told him, trying not to sound as afraid as she felt. "I'm going to take it out now, okay?" She knew it would likely kill him but he couldn't heal with a stone axe head in his skull anyway.

Aeolus didn't respond, but he was still breathing so Cho adjusted him in her arms and carefully eased the gory weapon from his body. The axe head was as large as both her hands, covered in brains and blood. She wanted to fling it away but he'd told her to save it..."I have it," she said in a shaky voice.

Aeolus' laugh was only a slight hitching in his breath, almost inaudible as he turned his head into her arms. "Pay 'em back for me," he said, perfectly clearly, and then his eyes closed. There was the faintest thump as his boot heels hit the floor; Aeolus was dead.

Cho eased the body back to the floor. He'd told her to get the keys and the wallets - keys to safe deposit boxes, wallets of addresses that he and the others would need in a few decades. He'd also told her to pay them back for this attack.

She picked up the butterfly knives from Notus' dead fingers. She'd make sure they were all dead, but not before the ones who could talk did...


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