Berries and Greed

The majority of people walking down this street were demiurgus, all in their humanoid skins. Some were dressed sharply, in well-fitted suits and curve-skimming skirts and jackets, while others wore flowy, expensive-looking dresses and wide-brimmed hats, or simple jeans and sweaters. All of them had the same obsidian skin as Greid, and while some had black hair that glimmered emerald green like his, others had hints of pink or blue or purple.

There were some humans as well, walking casually along the sidewalks or ducking into stores that catered to a mostly demiurgus clientele. We drove past a nail salon advertising its three-colour ombre special for claws over an inch long. A swanky-looking wine merchant had a subtle sign in the window promoting its new selection of cheeses that paired well with nightberry wine. There was a tiny, upscale grocery store that specialised in imported food—specifically, imported from the demiurgus’ mysterious homeland buried deep in the earth.

The car crawled to a stop as the lights up ahead turned red. I ignored Greid’s mutter about city traffic as I stared at the cute little coffee place just outside my window. The inside looked dark but inviting, with stained-glass lamps placed on every table and a big counter stretching along one wall, the two demiurgus behind it smiling cheerfully and chatting with waiting customers.

Pretty black metal tables and chairs lined the sidewalk outside, most of them filled by demiurgus who sipped from steaming copper cups. A human and demiurgus duo stepped outside, laughing together about something, and I eyed their cardboard takeout cups with envy as they passed.

I’d only ever smelled coffee before, while walking past a café out in the city with some of the other cult members, and it had smelled so good. The high priest regarded caffeine as a terrible drug, so we weren’t allowed to drink it—or any other caffeinated beverages—at the compound “for the good of our health”. I’d been sorely tempted to try it before, but I knew one of the other members would have ratted me out, so I hadn’t.

The car started moving again, but it was only another few minutes before Greid was pulling over to the side of the road. My gut clenched with nerves as he killed the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. I quickly followed suit, climbing out of the car on slightly shaky legs and staring up at the tall, dark stone building in front of me. We’d turned onto a quieter, leafy street with lots of trees lining the sidewalk, and the identical demiurgus-built townhouses sat in somewhat neat rows all the way down to the next corner.

They were more uniform than the termite nest-looking high-rises, which I supposed made sense, given how closely they were all packed together. But the houses looked pretty big—narrow but tall, with maybe three or four storeys.

Greid’s house—assuming I was looking at the right one and he hadn’t just parked in the first available spot on the street—had the same pretty stained-glass windows as the others I’d seen. One on the top floor was open, and when he saw me looking as he came up next to me with both my suitcases, he winced. “Forgot to close that.”

I looked around, spotting a demiurgus couple pushing a stroller along the sidewalk on the other side of the street, and two old demiurgus men conversing on a stoop with fat black cigars hanging out of their mouths. “It doesn’t seem like a dangerous area.”

“Oh, it’s not,” Greid said quickly, gesturing with a suitcase for me to walk up the front steps. “It’s pretty quiet, and it’s mostly families or people who’ve lived here for years. The next street over—the one we just drove down—is livelier. It’s only a few minutes’ walk. If, uh, if you get bored.”

As Greid stepped up beside me and put down a suitcase to fumble with his keys, I glanced back again. The two old demiurgus had stopped talking and were watching us. Their inhuman faces didn’t express any one emotion particularly strongly, but I suddenly wondered what Greid’s neighbours would think about a human moving into his home.

“Are your neighbours gonna think it’s weird that I’m living here?” I muttered to him as he unlocked the front door, which was much taller than any human-made door.

He glanced over at me with a little frown. “Don’t see why they would. None of their fucking business anyway.”

I snorted, then hesitantly stepped over the threshold when the door swung open and Greid gestured for me to head in before picking up my other suitcase. Trying not to stare too openly, I took everything in. The hallway was long and narrow, with a winding staircase in one corner and several doors leading off from it. And there was stuff everywhere. Framed artwork lined the walls. Strange potted plants were tucked into shadowy recesses or displayed on cluttered console tables that also held dripping candles, alien-looking trinkets and ornaments, busts and miniature sculptures of demiurgus.