05-29-2026, 01:43 PM
I was just finished nursing the babies when Perhita, my new maid, entered the room. She looked frantic, and as I handed (child) back to the nanny, Perhita rushed up to my side.
“Lady Ember, I’m so sorry, but I have bad news.”
Bad news wasn’t exactly on my list of things I wanted to hear. The list of things that had already gone wrong since morning was a mile long. Sometimes I just wanted to pack it all up and move back to Seattle. While I had grown to love Annwyn, there were days where I longed for the hustle and bustle of the city streets rather than the clanks and clangs of castle life. Herne had done his best to make his world feel as close to my world as possible, but unfortunately, there were some things impossible to replicate.
“What’s happened now?”
“I’m so sorry, but Lord Rumblebutt is sick.” Perhita looked ready to jump out of the way. I had a hard time understanding the servants and how they feared me—even though they seemed to like working for me—but my advisors had explained it to me this way: I was now a goddess. I could have the servants killed with a flick of one finger. And while the majority of the gods did their best to respect mortals, there were plenty who didn’t. The realization that I held lives so easily in my hands had finally sank in, and I tried my best to remember that fear and act accordingly.
Her news, however, hit me in the gut. Mr. Rumblebutt had been my companion for a number of years, and that he was sick threw me into a cold sweat. Cats might be considered property to some, but he was part of my family, my first child—and while his three sisters were Fae goddesses, that didn’t lessen my love for him.
“Oh no, where is he?” I turned to Perhita, fear making me sweat.
“He’s in your bedroom, m’lady.” Perhita led me down the hall of our private chambers toward the bedroom. As we approached the doors leading into my bedroom—joined by a sitting room to Herne’s quarters—I rushed in front of her and threw open the doors, running over to the bed. There, Sefeil, the castle veterinarian who looked after all the royal animals, was examining my huge floof of a Norwegian Forest cat. As I approached, he looked up.
“Lady Ember, I’m glad you’re here.” He stood. Willowy and tall, he was an Elf, like most of the healers, and he was probably several thousand years old.
“How is he? What’s wrong?” I knelt on the bed beside my beloved cat. Mr. Rumblebutt had been with me for what…over eight years? Even though I’d only been a goddess for about a year, time was already starting to grow a little fuzzy. Herne had warned me it would. It wasn’t like I’d forget my life before, but as the years rolled by and turned into decades and then centuries, events would run together more. Those born to godhood tracked time better than those who shifted over from being mortal.
“He’ll be okay, but he’s definitely under the weather.” Sefeil paused, then added, “May I speak freely, your Ladyship?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“You might want to think about the fact that your furry companion here is mortal, my Lady. One day…” He paused.
I stared at him, the realization dawning on me that cats lived such a short time compared to mortals as it was. Compared to the gods…
“Thank you, Sefeil. I’ll think about it. I might have a few questions for you soon, so don’t go on any extended trips for a while, please.”
“Of course, Lady Ember. I’ll just give Lord Rumblebutt his medicine now, and then I’ll return tonight to give him the rest.” After coaxing Mr. Rumblebutt to lick up the turkey-flavored liquid, Sefeil bowed and left our quarters.
***
When Herne got home, he played with the girls for a while, then the nanny took them off to bed. I waited until after dinner, when we were relaxing.
“The farmers are making great progress, they’re expanding the farmland by over half.”
“How’s it going at the Wild Hunt?” I asked. Herne spent two days a week over on Earth, helping Yutani run the agency. Sometimes, I went with him, but the girls were a year old now, and I felt like one of us needed to be around for them, although Nanny Avers was primarily responsible for their care. I’d never been maternal, but Herne needed an heir—full god or goddess rather than half, like his daughter ( ) he’d had with an Amazon he’d dated long ago.
So, I’d agreed to children, so long as I had plenty of help. And we had lucked out, in a way. Triplets—three daughters, all beautiful little goddesses all at once. The pregnancy had been hell and I never wanted to go through that again, but I had to admit: our girls were going to be little firecrackers.
“Yutani is getting better at running the show. I knew he’d do well, but I didn’t realize that he’d need a mentor. I trust him, though, and he’s learning diplomacy.”
“How’s Lyrical doing?”
“She’s working out well. She and Yutani fit together in a way I never thought possible. It’s going to take her a long time to heal from what Kilnakarn did to her, but she’s making an effort and I think she’ll come out all the stronger in the end.” He wrapped his arm around me as we sat there on the sofa, staring at the fire. “So, how was your day?”
“Rough,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you about part of it. Mr. Rumblebutt is sick.”
Herne stiffened. “How sick?” He’d grown extraordinarily fond of my cat over the past few years and, although he wouldn’t admit it, more than once I had found the pair curled up together, snoring away.
“Sick enough. He’ll recover, this time. But Sefeil reminded me that Rumbie is a cat. And he’s mortal. And he’s getting into his mature years.” I teared up. “Angel’s getting ready for the Gadawoin. Can animals be deified too?”
Herne frowned, staring at me. “You mean, can we make the cat a god?”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m asking. Would it be safe for him? Would he be able to handle the transformation? I don’t know any animals who are gods. I don’t know if they can handle the long-term life without…You know what I’m asking.”
“I never thought about it,” Herne said. “It’s not like he’s a shifter. Let me ask around. I promise, I’ll get you an answer as soon as I can.”
“Thank you,” I said, leaning against his chest. As we relaxed by the fire, I couldn’t help but wonder what a cat with godlike powers would be like.
***
Cernunnos, my father-in-law and Lord of the Forest, was staring at me with a half-smile. I couldn’t tell if he was perturbed or just curious, but Herne had gone to him with my question and he had promised an answer by dinner time. Now, Morgana—Herne’s mother—and Cernunnos were seated at the table with us. They had spent the afternoon with their granddaughters and, while the gods seldom expressed exhaustion, the pair looked like they were ready for a nap.
As I passed Morgana the platter of pork chops, she grinned. “I can’t believe how the sprouts are growing. They’re already walking!” She had spent more time with us and Cernunnos since we had the children than she had in the years since I first met her in person.
“I was telling the Dagda about them the other day,” Cernunnos said. “He’s always talking about all his children and grandchildren, and finally I was able to counter his stories with my own.” He winked at me. “You brought some beautiful children into the world. Sure you don’t want more?”
I snorted. “I am not just here to breed, Lord Cernunnos. I’m not maternal and you know it.”
“You don’t have to be. You can hire all the help you want. Anyway, as to other subjects, your question about whether a cat can become a god…I think I know why you want to know, but tell me yourself.”
Herne started to answer but his father held up his hand. “No, Ember can plead her case all on her own.”
I wiped my lips with my napkin. “Lord Cernunnos—”
“Cernunnos. You’re my daughter-in-law now.”
I nodded. “Cernunnos…Mr. Rumblebutt…he’s got my heart. He’s my first baby—the kind of baby I understand. He’s helped me through some rough times. But he’s middle aged for a cat now, and…”
“And you can’t stand the thought of losing him.” Cernunnos gave me a gentle look.
“Yeah. Angel’s planned to go through the Gadawnoin. I won’t lose her. But my other best friend, my furbaby…could he handle immortality?”
The god of the forest settled back in his chair. “Some animals can. Herne turns into a silver stag, but there is a god-level silver stag who is the soul of the forest. Each major forest has one of these animals, the forest incarnate that might as well be immortal. But they’re also god-level intelligence.”
I rested my elbows on the table. “So…tell me the truth. Would it hurt Mr. R. to go through the process?”
Morgana handed me a plate of petite fours and I took four of them. I loved that I could eat as much as I wanted now and it never became a problem.
“The truth? Yes, it would.”
My heart fell. “Oh…I don’t want that.” I tried to remain strong but I couldn’t hold back the tears. I stared at the pastries on my plate. They no longer looked good to me.
“Take heart, my dear,” Morgana said, giving me a hug.
“Yes, take heart, because…there are other ways. Look—Thor has his goats, Freya her cats, Mielikki has her bears. You can have your cat.”
I looked up, catching my breath. “But how? The last thing I want is to hurt him.”
Cernunnos patted my arm. “The Gadawnoin is for humanoids. But there is another way, as I said. We have serums that you can give animals. It doesn’t give them immortality, but when it begins to wear off, they can have it again. And it lasts for a thousand years Mr. Rumblebutt won’t age, and there is another side-effect. He’ll be able to communicate with you, telepathically. He’ll understand you, and you’ll understand him. Will that make you smile?” His voice was gentle, for such a mighty man. He was massively built, and he looked like his voice should bellow across the forest.
I let out a long breath. “A thousand years and he can have it again?”
“Yes, and with him being able to communicate, he’ll be able to tell you if, someday, he wants to go to his rest.” Cernunnos stood, stretching. “Just ask Ferosyn when you’re ready to give it to him.”
“Do you think he’ll be happy?” I asked, turning to Morgana.
Morgana kissed my forehead. “I think that, as long as he’s with you, Mr. Rumblebutt will be content. And you can always ask him if he’d like a companion.”
I nodded. “Right…” As I took in the information, I realized that—of all the friends I had ever had, with the exception of Angel, Mr. R. meant the most to me. If he was going to be with me for a thousand years and longer, I’d do the most I could to give him as much joy and love.
Relieved, I went back to my plate. Across the table, Herne was smiling gently. The babies were asleep in the nursery. And our castle and lineage was secure.
As Cernunnos picked up a lute and began to play, Morgana joined in, singing. As they spun out one old melody after another, we settled back for the evening, and for the first time in weeks since this had first started worrying me, I felt at peace.
“Lady Ember, I’m so sorry, but I have bad news.”
Bad news wasn’t exactly on my list of things I wanted to hear. The list of things that had already gone wrong since morning was a mile long. Sometimes I just wanted to pack it all up and move back to Seattle. While I had grown to love Annwyn, there were days where I longed for the hustle and bustle of the city streets rather than the clanks and clangs of castle life. Herne had done his best to make his world feel as close to my world as possible, but unfortunately, there were some things impossible to replicate.
“What’s happened now?”
“I’m so sorry, but Lord Rumblebutt is sick.” Perhita looked ready to jump out of the way. I had a hard time understanding the servants and how they feared me—even though they seemed to like working for me—but my advisors had explained it to me this way: I was now a goddess. I could have the servants killed with a flick of one finger. And while the majority of the gods did their best to respect mortals, there were plenty who didn’t. The realization that I held lives so easily in my hands had finally sank in, and I tried my best to remember that fear and act accordingly.
Her news, however, hit me in the gut. Mr. Rumblebutt had been my companion for a number of years, and that he was sick threw me into a cold sweat. Cats might be considered property to some, but he was part of my family, my first child—and while his three sisters were Fae goddesses, that didn’t lessen my love for him.
“Oh no, where is he?” I turned to Perhita, fear making me sweat.
“He’s in your bedroom, m’lady.” Perhita led me down the hall of our private chambers toward the bedroom. As we approached the doors leading into my bedroom—joined by a sitting room to Herne’s quarters—I rushed in front of her and threw open the doors, running over to the bed. There, Sefeil, the castle veterinarian who looked after all the royal animals, was examining my huge floof of a Norwegian Forest cat. As I approached, he looked up.
“Lady Ember, I’m glad you’re here.” He stood. Willowy and tall, he was an Elf, like most of the healers, and he was probably several thousand years old.
“How is he? What’s wrong?” I knelt on the bed beside my beloved cat. Mr. Rumblebutt had been with me for what…over eight years? Even though I’d only been a goddess for about a year, time was already starting to grow a little fuzzy. Herne had warned me it would. It wasn’t like I’d forget my life before, but as the years rolled by and turned into decades and then centuries, events would run together more. Those born to godhood tracked time better than those who shifted over from being mortal.
“He’ll be okay, but he’s definitely under the weather.” Sefeil paused, then added, “May I speak freely, your Ladyship?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“You might want to think about the fact that your furry companion here is mortal, my Lady. One day…” He paused.
I stared at him, the realization dawning on me that cats lived such a short time compared to mortals as it was. Compared to the gods…
“Thank you, Sefeil. I’ll think about it. I might have a few questions for you soon, so don’t go on any extended trips for a while, please.”
“Of course, Lady Ember. I’ll just give Lord Rumblebutt his medicine now, and then I’ll return tonight to give him the rest.” After coaxing Mr. Rumblebutt to lick up the turkey-flavored liquid, Sefeil bowed and left our quarters.
***
When Herne got home, he played with the girls for a while, then the nanny took them off to bed. I waited until after dinner, when we were relaxing.
“The farmers are making great progress, they’re expanding the farmland by over half.”
“How’s it going at the Wild Hunt?” I asked. Herne spent two days a week over on Earth, helping Yutani run the agency. Sometimes, I went with him, but the girls were a year old now, and I felt like one of us needed to be around for them, although Nanny Avers was primarily responsible for their care. I’d never been maternal, but Herne needed an heir—full god or goddess rather than half, like his daughter ( ) he’d had with an Amazon he’d dated long ago.
So, I’d agreed to children, so long as I had plenty of help. And we had lucked out, in a way. Triplets—three daughters, all beautiful little goddesses all at once. The pregnancy had been hell and I never wanted to go through that again, but I had to admit: our girls were going to be little firecrackers.
“Yutani is getting better at running the show. I knew he’d do well, but I didn’t realize that he’d need a mentor. I trust him, though, and he’s learning diplomacy.”
“How’s Lyrical doing?”
“She’s working out well. She and Yutani fit together in a way I never thought possible. It’s going to take her a long time to heal from what Kilnakarn did to her, but she’s making an effort and I think she’ll come out all the stronger in the end.” He wrapped his arm around me as we sat there on the sofa, staring at the fire. “So, how was your day?”
“Rough,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you about part of it. Mr. Rumblebutt is sick.”
Herne stiffened. “How sick?” He’d grown extraordinarily fond of my cat over the past few years and, although he wouldn’t admit it, more than once I had found the pair curled up together, snoring away.
“Sick enough. He’ll recover, this time. But Sefeil reminded me that Rumbie is a cat. And he’s mortal. And he’s getting into his mature years.” I teared up. “Angel’s getting ready for the Gadawoin. Can animals be deified too?”
Herne frowned, staring at me. “You mean, can we make the cat a god?”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m asking. Would it be safe for him? Would he be able to handle the transformation? I don’t know any animals who are gods. I don’t know if they can handle the long-term life without…You know what I’m asking.”
“I never thought about it,” Herne said. “It’s not like he’s a shifter. Let me ask around. I promise, I’ll get you an answer as soon as I can.”
“Thank you,” I said, leaning against his chest. As we relaxed by the fire, I couldn’t help but wonder what a cat with godlike powers would be like.
***
Cernunnos, my father-in-law and Lord of the Forest, was staring at me with a half-smile. I couldn’t tell if he was perturbed or just curious, but Herne had gone to him with my question and he had promised an answer by dinner time. Now, Morgana—Herne’s mother—and Cernunnos were seated at the table with us. They had spent the afternoon with their granddaughters and, while the gods seldom expressed exhaustion, the pair looked like they were ready for a nap.
As I passed Morgana the platter of pork chops, she grinned. “I can’t believe how the sprouts are growing. They’re already walking!” She had spent more time with us and Cernunnos since we had the children than she had in the years since I first met her in person.
“I was telling the Dagda about them the other day,” Cernunnos said. “He’s always talking about all his children and grandchildren, and finally I was able to counter his stories with my own.” He winked at me. “You brought some beautiful children into the world. Sure you don’t want more?”
I snorted. “I am not just here to breed, Lord Cernunnos. I’m not maternal and you know it.”
“You don’t have to be. You can hire all the help you want. Anyway, as to other subjects, your question about whether a cat can become a god…I think I know why you want to know, but tell me yourself.”
Herne started to answer but his father held up his hand. “No, Ember can plead her case all on her own.”
I wiped my lips with my napkin. “Lord Cernunnos—”
“Cernunnos. You’re my daughter-in-law now.”
I nodded. “Cernunnos…Mr. Rumblebutt…he’s got my heart. He’s my first baby—the kind of baby I understand. He’s helped me through some rough times. But he’s middle aged for a cat now, and…”
“And you can’t stand the thought of losing him.” Cernunnos gave me a gentle look.
“Yeah. Angel’s planned to go through the Gadawnoin. I won’t lose her. But my other best friend, my furbaby…could he handle immortality?”
The god of the forest settled back in his chair. “Some animals can. Herne turns into a silver stag, but there is a god-level silver stag who is the soul of the forest. Each major forest has one of these animals, the forest incarnate that might as well be immortal. But they’re also god-level intelligence.”
I rested my elbows on the table. “So…tell me the truth. Would it hurt Mr. R. to go through the process?”
Morgana handed me a plate of petite fours and I took four of them. I loved that I could eat as much as I wanted now and it never became a problem.
“The truth? Yes, it would.”
My heart fell. “Oh…I don’t want that.” I tried to remain strong but I couldn’t hold back the tears. I stared at the pastries on my plate. They no longer looked good to me.
“Take heart, my dear,” Morgana said, giving me a hug.
“Yes, take heart, because…there are other ways. Look—Thor has his goats, Freya her cats, Mielikki has her bears. You can have your cat.”
I looked up, catching my breath. “But how? The last thing I want is to hurt him.”
Cernunnos patted my arm. “The Gadawnoin is for humanoids. But there is another way, as I said. We have serums that you can give animals. It doesn’t give them immortality, but when it begins to wear off, they can have it again. And it lasts for a thousand years Mr. Rumblebutt won’t age, and there is another side-effect. He’ll be able to communicate with you, telepathically. He’ll understand you, and you’ll understand him. Will that make you smile?” His voice was gentle, for such a mighty man. He was massively built, and he looked like his voice should bellow across the forest.
I let out a long breath. “A thousand years and he can have it again?”
“Yes, and with him being able to communicate, he’ll be able to tell you if, someday, he wants to go to his rest.” Cernunnos stood, stretching. “Just ask Ferosyn when you’re ready to give it to him.”
“Do you think he’ll be happy?” I asked, turning to Morgana.
Morgana kissed my forehead. “I think that, as long as he’s with you, Mr. Rumblebutt will be content. And you can always ask him if he’d like a companion.”
I nodded. “Right…” As I took in the information, I realized that—of all the friends I had ever had, with the exception of Angel, Mr. R. meant the most to me. If he was going to be with me for a thousand years and longer, I’d do the most I could to give him as much joy and love.
Relieved, I went back to my plate. Across the table, Herne was smiling gently. The babies were asleep in the nursery. And our castle and lineage was secure.
As Cernunnos picked up a lute and began to play, Morgana joined in, singing. As they spun out one old melody after another, we settled back for the evening, and for the first time in weeks since this had first started worrying me, I felt at peace.