“It is to worship a deity,” Ester said, carrying Rennard and Milton through the lush tunnel. They sat on a shoulder each, holding her neck and shoulder for stability while Ester had her hands around their legs, the way one would hold onto the straps of a backpack. “That pride, the ego, it is pointless before Goddess Helga. To make it personal is like feeling affronted by the river when its currents throw you around, or the sun for baking you with its rays.”

“We get it,” Rennard said. “We’ve already agreed to doing this, don’t need to give us the sermon.”

“Can I ask, how long have you been drinking her milk?” Milton asked.

“Two weeks.”

“And in that time you’ve grown this big?”

“And my magical powers come from the milk as well. I am still learning, it is still a tool to master, but Goddess Helga provides it. She is also experimenting with the extent of this. I wasn’t just chosen, I had to agree, because this is, in the end, an experiment.”

Milton watched the passing walls of fruity herbage, some of them emitting a steady and pleasant green glow, lighting the tunnel. “In theory, if we were to drink it, we could grow stronger and larger?”

“Yes,” Ester said. “But Goddess Helga is being cautious. If it works out with me, she’ll give it to more, raising a strong population, the strongest to have existed.”

“Huh.” Rennard scoffed. “Imagine a giant male. The people above would shit themselves.”

“Theory isn’t that far from practice,” Milton said.

Ester tapped their legs with her thumbs. “Don’t get greedy. What the Goddess will give you is what everyone already receives. She wants to be connected to you, not give you strength.”

The tunnel they were in branched off many ways, leading to various grottos. Milton and Rennard had received the most secluded one and were intentionally kept away from the rest, a treatment they had accepted. The language they used, referring to Ester and Goddess Helga as ‘another giant’, or the continuous references to the world and their life above here would perplex the population in a way Helga didn’t want. This did give rise to a creeping thought within Milton. Everyone indeed loved Goddess Helga and the life she breathed into these caves were undeniable. However, Milton wondered how much she was controlling them.

In line with keeping Milton and Rennard’s presence as hidden as possible, it was currently late evening, with waning sunlight from the sunrocks and some of the herbage needing to glow, which was another quaint discovery of these caves. Firefly-like bulbs of light hovered about and some of the bushes could shine, covering the darker hours like streetlights.

They entered the throne room through a wall of branches, the two massive trees around it forming an arched doorway. Everything had to be large enough for Goddess Helga to fit through, leaving no passage small. The throne room looked like a whole cupped dome of lush greenery with the one conspicuous entrance from the city. But in reality it was prickled with enormous holes leading into passages, hidden by all the vines and leaves and flowers and trees.

Goddess Helga sat on her throne in the middle, faded sunlight bearing down on her like a spotlight. Hands on the arm rests, straight posture and head staring forward, she had a very neutral, statue-like bearing. Helga wore a green dress glimmering under the light, her yellow hair rolling over her shoulders and breast. Despite her enormous excellence, the tiny stone glimmering on her forehead managed to take a decent portion of one’s attention, like a third eye shifting with light.

Ester placed them close to the throne and stepped back. Not a word spoken, Helga’s great feet reared up on their heels. Milton and Rennard looked at one another, nodded, and stepped forward to a foot each, Milton for the left one and Rennard the right. They lay down, moss and flowers receiving their backside. Her feet lowered on top of them like the lid of a casket.

They were entombed in the fleshy vastness. The lower end of their legs stuck out under the arch, open to the world outside, but their torsos were up by the balls of her feet and firmly covered. Her foot flesh was unbelievably soft. With an application of force, the flesh yielded to their bodies and formed a human-print upon the sole, inviting their bodies to go deeper into the foot, surrounding every part of them. There the heat arrived little by little, and Helga twisted her feet gently, grinding them, though not harshly.

Although it seemed strange to cast themselves into a position where they were so vulnerable, they knew she had always had the power to subdue them. The moment they had first stepped before her was akin to surrendering to her might, for she could have done this at any moment. So they lay there under her feet with nothing but trust and hope, for they had no other options.

A slick layer of moisture was building on the flesh covering them, the friction and heat increasing. “Drink,” she commanded. “Get as much of it as you can, children.”

The sweat hadn’t manifested into clear drops, only able to lap up the moisture on her soles so far. They had to do it, and did, and it was delectable. The bizarre lack of a detestable smell had hinted it, now it was confirmed. Rennard, grimacing the way one braces for impact, expecting the retch-like reflex to bubble up within him, to fight against the ingestion of acrid sweat, instead met a sweet honey-like flavor which belonged with pastries. Goddess Helga had no shortage of miracles.

With the hurdle of a sour taste being gone, replaced with a motivating deliciousness, what doubts were left? The prospect of it being humiliating might have been there, but they didn’t feel it. The feeling was as Ester had claimed. As they stroked their tongues across the flesh available to them, the feeling of a recipient, a person being on the other end, wasn’t there. It was like kissing a statue, they could feel the lack of attitude in these feet. So with a delectable taste and the lack of humiliation, and knowing that her secretions, perhaps mostly her milk, granted positive properties, there was nothing left between the boys and surrendering to a full-blown worship. And they did, not a thing of necessity anymore, but want and benefit, working the muscles in their neck to nod up and down and to the sides, swiping their tongue across her smooth soles, grabbing mouthfuls of moist foot flesh and sucking out droplets of her sweet sweat.

Can you hear my words? Her voice whispered in their heads, competing with sound, taste, thoughts, and all else which grabbed their consciousness. They felt a new space in their heads, an avenue through which one could travel, and there they actively thought their sentences. They answered yes by thinking it.

Good. Our bond is establishing. Continue, and— They wondered if the cut sentence was their bond being in its infancy, but no, her feet had paused, and they rose and let air breeze in through. It was an interruption in the peace.

“Someone is here,” Helga said brusquely. Her feet planted beside the boys. She stood up, stepping to the side of her throne. Milton and Rennard got up, nonplussed.

Ester came closer with a measured look around the gloomy throne room. “Goddess?”

“An intruder, through the secret passage.” Helga’s voice was stern, unlike herself, staring at the darkest corner of the massive room.

“Already in the secret passage?” Ester asked. “Couldn’t you sense her when she was outside, goddess?”

“No. They carry something that has kept them hidden. Ester, clear the city gateway. It might be a giant. None can see this.”

“Yes, goddess.” Ester jogged towards the doorway opening into the city.

Rennard and Milton rounded the throne and stood by Helga’s ankles, staring the same way as her. “Is it a giant?”

“Likely. You two stay behind me.” Helga walked towards this ‘secret passage’ previously mentioned, the darkest corner of the throne room.

“Hey,” Rennard said with a wave of his hand, head lowered in secrecy. Milton came. Rennard spoke right into his ear, not for Helga to hear. “This secret passage has to be a way out.”

“Probably. Keep it down. It’s probably the way she goes whenever she heads outside. Come, let’s be careful.” They followed Helga, keeping behind her as she had ordered.

A tense waiting ensued, the silence interrupted shortly by someone whisking through greenery. It came from the darkness, Helga’s attention placed accurately. Although the distance made the whisking quiet, the noise had an enormity to it, confirming it was a giant.

Helga’s right hand shone green, humming readily. The crinkling of leaves and branches grew nearer, louder, and suddenly larger, more than just footsteps but a body pushing through a wall.

“Where the hell does this lead?” she said.

Rennard turned to his friend sharply. “That voice… I recognize it.”

Milton concentrated. “Me too.”

The giant emerged from the darkness and greenery with somewhat of a trip, stepping into the light.

Rennard’s eyes widened. “There’s no fucking way. It’s that goddamn bitch from the farm!”

The recognition was mirrored on Ada’s face, who couldn’t see Rennard so far away with her poor eyes. “It’s his voice, Henry. Your friend.”

“Rennard! Milton!”

“Wh—” Milton and Rennard stared at each other, dumbfounded. “Henry?”

“Quiet!” Helga thrust her glowing hand forward. From the walls, vines lunged like snakes and grabbed Ada’s wrists and ankles, and despite such a large giant’s greatest efforts, Ada couldn’t make sheer greenery budge. She was locked.

On her shoulder, Henry summoned the art of the fighter and ran out along her left arm, hammering away at the vines holding her wrist. His impacts puffed in white flashes and did less than they would have against metal and stone.

Helga was already upon them, Ada about two thirds of the goddess’s height. From the benign, angelic divinity she normally exuded, Helga snapped back with shining eyes and mouth, as if possessed. Then, baring her teeth and with hands in a claw-like pose, she assumed a bestial form as she pounced. Hands on Ada’s head and shoulder, Helga bared Ada’s neck and sunk her teeth in like a vampire. Ada shouted for no more than a fraction of a second before Helga’s hand covered her mouth. Helga was quick to release, however, for Ada lost the energy to make a sound just two seconds into the bite, groaning like an old woman suffering from aching joints. Helga released.

“Ada!” Henry ran back along her arm, but Helga’s hand grabbed him, fingers squeezing him then throwing him back. He landed with a muffled crinkle on the bushes, about to summon his art again, but he couldn’t. The fingers that had just held him, it felt like they were still there, phantom fingers holding not his body, but his magic.

“Henry!” Milton and Rennard ran up to him, taking his side. “Fucking hell, she had you this whole time? Where have you been?”

“Long goddamn story, brothers,” Henry said, not in the rejoicing mood his two friends were. They hugged him and he returned it with one arm, eyes on Helga advancing on them.

Them knowing each other gave Helga a pause, not attacking yet but towering over them, a stony face showing no emotion. “You are more than associates, by the looks of it?”

“Everything we told you that we’ve been through,” Rennard said, stepping between Henry and her, “the third person we’ve mentioned in those stories? This is him. It’s Henry. He is as innocent as us.” He turned back to his friend. “Go on, tell her how this bitch caught you and kept you against your will.”

“Huh.” Henry needed a moment to go from fight to conversation, and once he collected himself, he stepped forward. “We didn’t mean any harm. We just came down here looking for something that could fix her eyes. The miracle stone, or some nonsense like th—” Henry noted the shining dot on Helga’s forehead. “The miracle stone…”

Helga’s expression was ice and anger, turning about, abruptly worried if someone were nearby, if someone had heard.

Ada didn’t seem to be a concern anymore. Glancing past her, the boys saw something they had never seen nor heard of in their lives. Ada was shrinking. On her knees, barely able to make a noise and shuddering from continued weakness, Ada’s brown dress became larger and larger upon her.

“What is going on…” Henry muttered, his first time witnessing Helga’s unparalleled power.

“Listen,” Rennard called. He pointed behind Helga, at Ada. “That bitch is evil and nasty, you’re right to attack her. But the three of us, we’re bloody harmless. We’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere.” Helga pointed her hand at them. Her fingers merged. Like puppets on strings, the three boys were slammed together, unable to move. Goddess Helga raised her foot. “Now, go to sleep.” The creamy sole fell upon them, flattening them against the ground, one foot able to cover all of them when they were squeezed together. Rennard and Milton could tell how different the sole felt from their previous stay thereunder.

Helga’s sole shone and blasted them with a soft lull, putting all three of them to sleep.