her. “It’s yours. From Demeter, my grandmother.”
The woman caught the orange, tore off the peel in less than five seconds, and put the meat to her nose. She smiled and savagely devoured the fruit. She turned to Than with juice dripping down her chin. “Who are you?”
“Someone who has finally found true love.” It sounded trite, but it was true, and he thought these women, who danced and loved and drank, would appreciate it. He knew if he revealed himself, he’d disgust her. No one wants Death. “May I join the party?”
At that moment, another woman turned and noticed him. Her curly black hair flowed around her face, which was stained red with blood or wine, Than didn’t know which. She held a chalice in one hand and a thyrsus in the other. A panther skin hung over her shoulder, its head still intact at her breast. “Who’s this?”
“He says he’s found true love,” the first maenad said to the other. “For a moment, I thought he meant me.”
“We’re about to dance,” she said. “The flutes and lyres are warmed up. We can’t wait for introductions.” The woman turned her back to him and began to move her body in a jerky, frenzied movement, not too unlike what Than had seen with epileptics as they fell to their deaths.
The first maenad took his hand and tugged him along the perimeter of the other raving dancers. What began as a soft tap-tap of the drums exploded into a booming, pounding thrash. Than did his best to mimic the movements of the others, feeling foolish but desperate to win their approval. The maenad on the end of his arm shrieked with joy and jerked around like a raving lunatic. Soon he felt himself surrounded by the throng of moving bodies bumping against him. The ecstatic women in the crowd seemed oblivious to his presence and to each other, as though lost in a trance, each singing her own song. The chaos and confusion were overwhelming, making it difficult for Than to feign joy.
This difficulty increased when the maenads fell upon a snake someone had thrown into the dancers. He watched with disgust as they tore the creature to pieces and stuffed chunks of it into their mouths. He disintegrated to escort the snake’s soul. Next came a rabbit, flung through the air by someone he could not see and caught in the hands of the mass of women, ripping and tearing the terrified, struggling creature. He disintegrated again. The bodies soon made way for two maenads pulling a thrashing buck by the horns into the center. Its limbs and head were ripped from its body and devoured by the dancers. Another disintegration. Than fragmented constantly, multiple times per second, so often did the living die. A second group fell on the remaining lump of carcass quivering in the grass until it was eaten up, blood dripping down chins.
“Now we are one with nature,” one of them said in a bold voice. “Their souls belong to us.”
Than decided now would not be a good time to correct her. Their souls had gone on. Instead, he opened his sack and tossed oranges and apples to the crowd. The fruit was gladly received and consumed as savagely as the animals. A ring of dancers formed around Than. They touched his arms and mussed his hair, smiling at him seductively. Then one maenad circled her arms around his waist and kissed him on the lips. As suddenly as she had come to him, she pulled away, screaming.
“Death!” she cried. “Death is among us!”
The joyful faces turned to panic and terror. Than wasn’t sure why. They were immortal. He had suspected they wouldn’t be too keen to see him if they knew his identity, but he never thought they’d fear him.
“Death is among us!’ another shrieked.
At first the maenads scattered from him, leaving him alone in the center of their ring. Then someone yelled, “Kill him! Kill Death, so we can live forever!”
Before Than could say anything, the raving women rushed at him and grabbed a hold of his arms.
“Wait!” He struggled against them,