8. The Bad Particle

Ionadanaris didn’t know what to say. Or think. Or do. Crocodiles were already—Crocodile!—gone for centuries?

“You lie,” she says. Also not smart to the face of a Goddess.

“Maybe one hangs around somewhere, lost,” Eeris said. “But all Crocoherds I know of have moved to other places, without poisoned rivers. I’m quite sure …”

Ionadanaris sunk through her knees. The Gosti forgot to stick to the walls and fell with her.

She mumbled: “… that I have never seen a real crocodile. I was never in danger.”

Why did she still see danger? Why—Crocodile! Stop it! Stop!

Her family member, a larger version of her who missed one front paw, nudged her and comforted her. She looked into his friendly face. “Let me guess. You knew this? Why did you leave?”

“We didn’t leave, we were sent away. My name is Donat, named after our great ancestor who translated the Book—”

“Not so fast,” Bella said. “Not true. Donat had copied the symbols from the book and given them to his little brother. A few weeks later, he visited the Throne with it. I found it suspicious, but translated for him.”

Donat nodded. “The text talked about the creation of the first Venomous Bite, with Cona. Each time a child was born, there was a slight chance of a mistake. A slight change in the DNA that determined how the animal grew. Cona had such a mistake—but it turned out to be a good mistake, for surity. Particles that were supposed to flow through her body, were suddenly made at her teeth.”

“So when she bit an animal …”

“That particle went along. Cona was even luckier, because she received a few more mistakes. The particle became worse and worse—until it was poisonous to others.”

Her head spun. The first Venomous Bite appeared randomly, through an accidental mistake. But she couldn’t wait—Crocodile!?—for that. Maybe it took a million years before another of her species received the mistake. Millions of years that—

“How long ago were you sent away?”

Donat smiled, as if she gave the right answer to a test question.

Bella responded: “Long ago enough that the mistake could have happened again.”

“Once we knew, thanks to the amazing translation from Bella, the prophecy stopped making sense. Defeating a crocodile would bring nothing. We had to survive, long enough, until the Venomous Bite returned on its own.”

“And? And? Is it back?”

Donat stopped smiling. “The gods said it would likely happen quickly, for surity, because we once had the Venomous Bite already. We could already do it, so we can probably still do it. We just have to turn it on. Connect the final piece. Change one little part of our DNA. Allow our body to make that good mistake.”

Crocodile!

“Stop it,” Ionadaris said out loud. “Stupid head. Stupid seeing crocodiles everywhere. Stupid being afraid of everything.”

Bella and Eeris looked at her like mothers. The Gosti scrambled back to their feet and flew, conversing enthusiastically, back through the window.

Bella crouched before her and held the book close. Her bedroom was very small, as if she’d been put there for punishment. The giant bookshelves and piles of scattered books also filled the space, and were probably more important to Bella than a soft bed. The walls were covered in spells and wise words; the only other decoration was a beautiful golden mirror.

“It took a while before I realized why the symbols felt familiar to me: the Euchambersia had to have my Book. The same night I took it back, Eonada just lost her father. In a panic, she almost jumped on my back and refused to leave us. That’s how this branch of your species became friends with us, the gods. And that’s how they slowly turned into their own species.”

A scream—CROCODILE—sounded outside. Powerful, but short, as if in surprise. Everyone briefly looked out the window, but saw nothing odd and didn’t move.

“Why did they steal our poison?” Ionadaris asked.

Bella frowned. “I assume you know about the Poison Belt? Which was created when someone discovered this secret storage of poison and made it explode?”

“Yes, but why steal and store that poison … without using it?”

The raccoon goddess opened the book and rapidly leaved through it. A second scream came from outside. Eeris grew nervous and stuck her long giraffe’s neck out of the window to look every which way.

It was impressive, how quickly Bella could read and search. Of course, it was a magical book, but she now assumed that all wisdom and knowledge of the universe was inside. And that was a lot.

Bella looked up and whispered her realization: “Because … we arrested the criminals and banned them before they could use the poison.”

Donat realized too. “All those animals pulled only the poisonous versions of us out of the water. They stole the poison and store it like … like … like a bomb to use for later. But later never came.”

Ionadaris grew frightened from the screaming outside. Crocodile!? She never wanted to leave this safe, cozy bedroom again. “Who would be the target of such a bomb? It would only work in the water.”

“Work very well,” Donat added.

Eeris and Bella shared a glance. Two heartbeats later they cursed, with the most powerful of curses, their own brother Ardex.

“Ardex! Come—here!” Bella screamed as if her dog had done something dirty. Ardex shuffled to them with a fitting expression, out of his own bedroom that was bright red and much bigger. Steam flew from his skin and he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“You made that bomb, didn’t you?”

“What are you talking about? Can we do this tomorrow?”

Bella pulled on his tusks. When she was angry, she became taller than all—except Eeris—and wanted you to look up to her. “That poison bomb underwater. That gave us the Poison Belt now. You told the animals to steal that poison, didn’t you? Because you wanted to suppress and eliminate all the meat eaters underwater?”

“Bella. Sweet Bella. That is so, so long ago.”

“It’s true? You, the eldest god who must care for life, built a poison bomb to kill all water life in case things got out of hand?”

“Yes, I admit guilt, but I am the God of Death. And how could I have known that—”

The noise outside reached unacceptable levels. Especially for midnight, when most species still slept.

Ionadaris looked outside and immediately saw the danger now. A gigantic crocodile, like a shadow blacker than black, walked at the Throne. But you see crocodiles everywhere, she thought. They’re not here. It’s not real. You’ll prove it to yourself.

She stumbled down the stairs, followed at a distance by surprised gods, while Ardex said sorry once more to a furious Bella. She crossed the Throne Hall and rolled outside.

“You see,” she told herself, “there is nothing—”

A large crocodile’s tail painfully swept her off her paws.