"I haven't known him that long, but I do know how he'd react to being called a myth. And call me Liz." She took another drag on the cigarette and looked at Tsilivi through the smoke. If what Dimitris said was anything to go by, this was a view that a lot of people could be seeing in the very near future.
The phoenix had first appeared several days before. It had swooped down from the hills, slaughtered some cattle, and then flown away. Many people had seen it happen. A day later another visit, and this time the great birds rage-filled attack had left several goats dead and, Dimitris had said with a note of regret, completely inedible. The following days saw two attacks each, and though no one had yet been hurt, Dimitris was worried that the bird would clap its wings and incinerate a busload of tourists. Bad for business, he had said when he first met Liz at the Tsilivi police station, and even then she had detected a note of defense in his voice. Here was a man used to being condescended to, and he had developed a built-in defense of dry sarcasm.
"So why hasn't anyone been up into the hills to look for it?"
Dimitris averted his eyes, shuffled his feet. A cloud of dust rose and settled on his trousers. They seemed used to it. "Afraid," he said. "There are a couple of small cafés up there, and a farm, and we can't get in touch with anyone who lives there."
"Isn't that a good reason to go up there yourself?"
The policeman kept his eyes averted, and Liz stamped out her cigarette. Sweat dribbled down her sides, trickled into her eyes, and she cursed the heat once again.
"He's a god of fire," Dimitris said. "He's a relative of the sun, and something has enraged him, something has driven him mad. He can clap his wings and raise fire! Those people up there are dead. Cinders. Ashes. I have a wife and child; I have no wish to mix my own ashes with theirs."
"Don't hit me with that ancient god bullshit!" Liz said.
Dimitris turned away, shaking his head. "You don't understand," he said.
Now who's being condescending? Liz thought, hackles rising. Her skin burned, and not just with the sun. She was getting angry. Yeah, god of fire, she thought. Wait until he gets a load of me.
"Dimitris, I'm sorry, but you're right, I don't understand. What I do know is, I've been called for by your superiors to help out here. I need you to take me up the mountain so that I can see for myself."
"My wife? My child?"
"I promise you that today will not see them without a father."
"How can you promise that?" Dimitris took out another cigarette and popped it into the corner of his mouth.
Liz shrugged. What the hell. She reached out, summoned a flame from her fingertip, and lit his cigarette for him.
* * *
"Aren't you a little too old to believe in monsters?" Liz asked.
They were following the road around the slope of the mountain, throwing up a cloud of dust behind them. That, Liz noted grimly, seemed to be a theme of this place: dust. Grit, too, grinding between her teeth. And muck; dust damped by her sweat turned into a grimy layer that ran in rivulets beneath her clothing. Dammit, why couldn't she have been sent to Iceland to deal with a snow demon?
"I'm old enough to be able to believe again," Dimitris said. He glanced sideways, Liz frowned, and he smiled at her. She liked that. He had a nice smile, and it made her feel good. "What I mean is, I'm old enough to be able to accept that things aren't all that they seem, and that there are mysteries in the world. I'm still talking to you after you conjured fire. Proof enough? I have accepted you and what you can do. I'm old enough to accept that. Once mysteries are revealed, they're no longer mysteries. A monster is only a monster when it can't be categorized or photographed."
"You think science can explain everything?" she said.