By Pat Kelleher
COYOTE HAS misplaced HIS PENIS.
The local American trickster god and Richard eco-friendly, one in all his mortal marks, locate themselves unwitting bedfellows as they search to regain what they've got either misplaced. the path leads them to England, the place they locate murdered Anglo-Saxon spirits, a reclusive god of the forge, a London gentleman’s membership solely for deities and a terrifying conspiracy.
If Coyote goes to save lots of the realm and get his mojo again, it’s going to take every thing in his bag of tricks—and he’s struggling with the final word functionality anxiety.
"You had me at, 'COYOTE HAS misplaced HIS PENIS.' Kelleher writes whatever the following that's magical, hilarious, disturbed, and inspired." -- Chuck Wendig, writer of GODS & MONSTERS: UNCLEAN SPIRITS and THE BLUE BLAZES.
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I’ll give it some thought. ” Coyote paused within the doorway. “Very good. If you’re now not the following while I get back, I shall now not come trying to find you. Make the perfect selection, Richard eco-friendly, on your sake. ” Richard, too drained to argue, nodded and waved him away. He watched as Coyote stepped out of the lock-up, his physique framed in silhouette opposed to the entrance for a second. Then, without warning, he used to be long gone and the flapping of wings backing out echoed around the lock-up. FROM the doorway to the aspect highway, the businesswoman watched the Coyote-raven fly away. As she walked down the dust song in her heels, dressed for the town, she used to be oddly misplaced in a road of dismal shuttered outlets and graffiti, as was once the smile that performed upon her lips. the instant HE took to the air in raven shape, Coyote gave little idea to Richard. He concept simply of his more youthful brother. He flew over London, tracing threads at the Tapestry, threads that might lead him again to the membership. under, the human huddle raced round their nice urban like ants, yet he paid them little heed, for this day he was once certain he will be reunited along with his more youthful brother. Seeing the membership under, Coyote-raven rotated down, landed at the balustrade of the piano nobile, and hopped alongside, taking a look in each one window until eventually he came upon Osiris. The Egyptian was once now not by myself. He was once at an extended desk, conversing with numerous others and giggling. Coyote-raven used to be yes they have been guffawing approximately him, approximately how they'd tricked him and fooled him. good, Coyote-raven grew offended at that, yet made definite to not lose his mood, not only but. He needed to discover the place his more youthful brother was once, after which he might exhibit them. hence, he hopped towards the window till he might pay attention what was once being stated. “The time for the ritual approaches,” acknowledged Osiris, addressing the others. “For that you and Cerridwen are key, Osiris,” acknowledged Lugh. “For our half, i think the arrangements are nearly entire. Gobannon? ” a wide, darkish haired guy with a ruddy complexion replied from down the desk. “The components have arrived on the previous dock because the Slavic pantheon promised and they're being assembled on web site. The sacred vessel is being developed lower than my command and on agenda. The armature is being assembled at the moment. while entire it will likely be a wondrous factor to behold. Cerridwen should be proud. ” “You have performed your task good, Gobannon,” acknowledged the slender clean-shaven guy sat subsequent to him, donning a black open-necked blouse and shoulder size hair, his eyes thoroughly black. “I’m yes the bards will sing of it whilst this is often performed. ” He leant ahead and spoke down the desk to Lugh. “We have sufficient phials of ichor now for the ritual. The Farm doesn’t suspect a specific thing. ” Lugh nodded. “Your discretion and looking talents are liked, Pwyll. ” “And what of the opposite element? ” requested a girl with startling emerald eyes and lengthy flaming hair, the color of villages positioned to the torch. “Safe, Morrigan, safe,” acknowledged Lugh, lifting anything onto the desk. Coyote-raven blinked. There, in the midst of the desk, certain and contained by way of a fiendish ornate casket with crystal panes within the aspects, like a reliquary, used to be his pecker, limp and shrivelled.