Ariel stuck her head into the orangery. Quin was sitting on the floor, the apex in a mountain of open books. The foot of the mountain was neatly bounded by a perfect circle marked out in apples. As Ariel watched, Quin growled, threw a book across the room, and snatched up an apple with menace in his eye.

"How's the throbbing pagan sex-godding going?" Ariel asked.

"They make it all so bloody complicated! Why can't it be simple?" Quin picked at the apple's skin. "It's sex. Best urge there is. Here I am, do me now for I am divine, yar yar hump hump. But no, it's all--" Quin tore a shred of peel off and threw it onto the floor outside the circle. "--circles and mysteries and rituals and things, and getting in touch with the secrets of Life, and reaffirming everything in the damn cosmos except sound, clear English. And it's all about girls. Aphrodite and Diana and Ishtar and those. Reclaiming your voice. Awakening your inner goddess. What about my inner god? Where do I fit into the scheme of things?"

"Divine consort, I think," Ariel said. "That was during Mum's short-weedy-men phase. Goatees seem to be involved."

"I've awakened my inner goddess five times now," Quin complained, ignoring Ariel. "The whore does not want to get out of bed."

"Perhaps you've discovered where your inner god is hiding," Ariel said.

"How do I get him up, then? If women are all about incense and flowers and fruit, should I be sitting in a ring of baseballs?"

"Perhaps you should distract your inner goddess with something sparkly, then bait your inner god with a big steak-and-potatoes dinner and a glass of beer," Ariel said. "Get him talking, bitch a bit about what it's like to live wih a houseful of women, then just when he's at his weakest, bam! hit him with a Wild Hunt."

"There are no deer around here."

"We have Tekken. It's close."

Quin fell silent, pondering.

"No," he said finally. He tossed another scrap of peel onto the floor. "I am falling prey to the sexist dualistic thinking inherent in a patriarchal capitalist society."

"This goddess/consort business isn't dualistic?"

"It's a more organic duality."

"Quin, you're as organic as a Twinkie."

"I am all about organic! Well, about organs. THE organ. I am all about the organ."

"Throbbing pagan sex god that you are."

"Or will be, as soon as one of these books tells me how to get in touch with my male spirituality." He shifted and winced. "At least I've achieved throbbing."

"Come inside, help me make dinner. We'll roast slabs of meat to bring out your inner god."

"That would require getting up, which would compromise the throbbing."

"You can do your share of the work sitting down."

"That would require work, too. Divinity does not work."

"Divinity doesn't eat, either."

Quin followed her to the kitchen, grumbling and dropping apples from the pile in his arms. He dumped the pile back into the grocery bags they came from, then made another trip, walking stiffly to maintain the throbbing, in order to collect the dropped apples. "Why do we have four dozen apples anyway?" he said as he whumped into a cane chair hard enough to make it creak.

"Mother," Ariel said.

"Oh, of course."

"Why did YOU have four dozen apples?" Ariel asked as she pulled a joint from the refrigerator.

"Circle of Life," Quin said. "Essential to healing. I made it after the first time I pounded my head into a book in frustration."

"Perhaps paganism isn't for you," Ariel said kindly. "Maybe you need a more structured religion."

"Are there any throbbing Anglican sex gods?"

"Alan Rickman."

Quin considered this.

"I don't think Anglicanism had anything to do with it. Besides, I want native dances in my honor performed by women clad only in grass skirts."

"You want to be a throbbing Tiki sex god?"

"YES! No. Maybe. I hate jungles."

* * *

Nighttime, and Quin was in the orangery again. Candlelight glittered off the greenhouse walls. "It has occurred to me," Quin said to Ariel when she stuck her head in to discover what the smell was, "that reading scraps at random from 27 books collected by Mother during her 'anything with a rainbow on it will bring us closer to God' phase is not the way to gain a mature understanding of paganism."

"So you're reading only one book collected by Mother during her rainbow phase."

"The author's name doesn't include Silver, Raven, or Wolf," Quin said. "It's a promising start."

"Silver Ravenwolf IS the place to start," Ariel said.

Quin looked down at the book in his hand, then up at Ariel. "Does she do Tiki?"

"Anything is possible."

"I'll stick with this one for a little longer. She's fulminating against false gurus who harvest impressionable young people and turn them into mindless, sandalwood-scented pagan minions," Quin said. "It's very educational. Not," he added at Ariel's scowl, "that I would set myself up as the leader of a sex cult. I desire true divinity, not mere control. But a god must understand all human failings, including those that turn people into obedient--"

"We don't have room for a sex cult here."

"--housecleaners. Obedient housecleaners. What if Vin moved out? That would free up three whole rooms."

"Would these obedient sex-cult housecleaners be at the disposal of members of the divinity's mortal family?"

"Oh, probably. During my corrupted phase, at least."

"Get Vin to move out--WITHOUT casting a spell that involves dry-humping her door while yelling 'Yar, yar, hump, hump, the god commands you to find an apartment already, you spoiled diva'--and you can have your sex cult."

Quin pumped his fist in the air, hooting with victory.

"Just remember that Mother will want to join."

Quin glowered at her sourly.

"And next time you decide to burn 17 candles at once, don't pick them from Mother's special scented stash. The house smells like a blueberry farted. I'm going to go open some kipper cans to ward off the stink--do you want any?"

"Divinity does not partake of kippers," Quin said with dignity.