17
The gates are already thrown open and people are making their way to the palace. Crowds of citizens are flooding the streets.
The Dekate is underway.
Sitting in my room, I listen for the guards to switch shifts. Watching my sundial, I hold my breath as it reaches its mark.
The guards” steps are loud and thundering as they head down the hallway.
Perfect.
Scooping up my vanity chair, I wedge it under the hand of the doors to my room.
Softly, I stand up, gathering my packed get-the-heck-out-of-here bag. Little was packed in there. Some clothes and food from the kitchen.
Turning back toward the secret passage, I take in the room one last time. The ornate space with its elaborately engraved and painted white wood walls.
I open the hidden door by pulling the floral sconce.
Sneaking through the back staircases was the easy part. Even with how narrow the paths were, I didn’t run into a single person.
Rushing through the passage, I crisscrossed my way through the palace. Occasionally opening doors, checking key holds, and gaps.
From vacant guest rooms to the servants’ quarters, to the kitchens. None looked promising.
I tried several more doors, looking for a passageway leading out of the castle. I open yet another door and am faced with a long gray corridor. Dampness collects along the walls of the tunnel.
Stepping out completely into the tunnel, I look down the dark hallway toward the soft whistling sound.
Promising.
The door bangs shut behind me.
Well damn. Looks like this is the path that I’m going to take.
Turning back to the doorway, it looked nearly invisible. Moving along down the long dark passage, my eyes are slow to adjust.
At the end of the hallway, a door appeared. Pressing my ear to the door, I listen for any sounds of guards.
The low sound of whistling continues.
But thankfully no other sounds.
As I creak the door open, I flinch at the sound.
A large cavern appeared on the opposite side. Benches, chairs and makeshift cots appear in the low lights. Stalagmites and stalactites line the floors and ceilings.
This appeared to be a shelter.
Just as I was preparing to turn around and try some other doors, I felt a warm breeze brush my cheeks. More hopeful, I follow the wind through the cavern. Leading me up a set of stairs to a doorway.
Pressing my ear against the hatch, I listen for any sounds.
The loud noises of the city rumble from beyond the barrier.
Clicking the entrance open, I grin largely. Hardly able to suppress a smile, the thrill of the busy city makes me feel alive. I pulled at the edge of my dad’s cloak.
Damn violet eyes. If anyone spotted them, they’d be a dead giveaway of who I am.
Raising my eyes only high enough to make sure my path was clear; I trek through the city streets. Teaming with life, I push on toward the northwest. Off toward the House of Neptune.
Off to Marium.
I hope the Court of the Sea will become my new home.
A hand wraps around my forearm, yanking me backwards. The backside of me pressed flushed into their body.
Another hand grips my shoulder.
This is how I die. Being pulled to a back alley. Not able to scream for help otherwise I would be inadvertently letting everyone know that I”m not supposed to be outside the palace.
Pulled back into the alley from which I came, I can’t help but laugh at the irony.
I can see the headlines in the news.
‘Mortal Woman Kidnapped and Killed While Escaping from her Original Abductor.’
“Going somewhere?” asks a deep gravelly voice cuts through my pity parade. Whilst memorizing the voice of my second abductor, I release the tension in my back.
I know that voice.
Oh, thank goodness. It”s Uncle Ov.
“OV! You scared the shit out of me.” Turning into him, I smack his hands away from me.
Two guards flank him along with a brown-haired servant that I have seen a couple of times before.
What was his name again?
I can’t remember.
Both of the guards have swords with old blades. They’re as dark as night. From a material that I can’t identify.
Turning my attention from them, I take a sweep of my surroundings. Not fully sure of what I”m up against nor where I”m exactly going.
Even during the day, the shadows in this alley make it feel like the witching hour. Casting dark shadows all around us.
The shadows on Ov almost make him look evil.
Uncle Overlord.
Hahaha.
“I need to get going. It was good to see all of you,” I whisper as I pull away from the middle-aged god. A guard steps into my path. Blocking my exit.
Uncle knows.
Knows that I shouldn’t be out here and shouldn’t be fleeing from his nephew. Nodding slowly, he states, “Let’s sit down for some tea. I find a good brew and a couple of moments to catch up with your thoughts does a lot of good for both the mind and soul.”
This was not a request. It was an instruction. One that I won’t easily be able to get out of.
“Lead the way.” I shrug as I look over my shoulder at the crowds of the divine near me.
Extending his elbow, I reluctantly wrap my hands around the offered bicep. Ov leans over to my ear, his breath warm on my neck as he asks, “What were your plans for the day?”
Gods, he was too close. Uncomfortably so.
But I need to take it. To appear unbothered by this whole ordeal.
“I’m just out exploring.” Lies. I know it and so does Ov. “To see the city that I have been living in for months.” Eyeing the guards, I watch the looming figures of men who likely would expose my transgressions to Apollo.
“No worries my dear.” As though he could sense my apprehension. “Come sit with me at the restaurant and they’ll keep your appearance a secret to my nephew,” chuckles Ov. Uncle pulls at his long beard. Stroking it, the middle-aged god plays with the ornaments in his beard.
Though I feel the urge to call out Uncle and ask how I know that the guards will abide by his word and forsake their oaths to Apollo, I hold my tongue. It’s not my place to question. Sure, they may give me up anyways but that’s the risk that I will have to take.
In the court of the gods, knowledge is power.
Chuckling softly, Uncle asks me, “So do you like shopping or do you’ve a penchant for travel?”
“What can I say, wanderlust fills my veins.” This was probably the most truthful statement that I have told him today. “I hate feeling like I”m contained.”
Pushing along the street, most avert their eyes. Giving only the slightest of bows in respect to Uncle while still being nearly unnoticeable. Everything felt rehearsed, giving me the impression that this isn’t their first-time seeing Uncle out in the town. Ov asks, “Why is that?”
Walking down the sidewalks, I feel the buzz of people around me. Nymphs, satyrs, and other mythical creatures push around me. Each busily hurrying off on their way.
The sun beats down on my skin, as I pull my backpack closer to me. I know I need to leave the city as soon as I can.
“I have places to go and people to find.” I answer simply.
Uncle nods in a knowing way. Gesturing softly to follow him, we zigzagged through several streets. Hardly anyone pays us any mind. Outside of the castle, everything almost felt like a desert. Though there was grass, the climate was so arid that it’s nowhere near the vivid green hue as my home.
“Determined to leave, I see. Well, I know better to get in the way of a woman on a mission.” Grins Uncle Ov. Corralling me into a tea and pasty shop, I want to groan.
If you knew better, then you’d have let me go on my merry way.
Returning an equally forced smile, I reply, “Smart god. Those are in short supply.” Uncle belly laughs so harshly that it echoes through the cozy shop.
A stone fireplace crackles softly off to the corner of the small room. Comforting browns, tile, plush upholstered seats, and yellow lighting cast a warmth to the room.
Gesturing off to the side, Uncle greets the female worker at the counter. “Greetings Penelope. Would you be so kind as to prepare two batches of my normal order?”
Inclining her head, the lady scrambles to gather the requested items. “Of course, sir.”
Pushing off into a side room, I’m greeted by a warm and lavish room. One that rivals some of the rooms in the palace. This space has a tiny table with two chairs and a couch around the fireplace. It was nearly bare. But the finishings were much nicer than the previous room.
“Welcome to my private room at the Golden Carnation. Please take a seat.” Crossing the room, I toss myself onto the plush couch. “In all seriousness, best of luck on your adventure. Aww yes, but I do have a parting gift for you.”
Uncle follows me to the couch shortly after. Peonies, carnations, and lilies decorate the room. Even spare flowers find their way into vases, into the art on the walls, even the mosaics on the floors contain flowers.
I awkwardly fidget in my seat. Playing with my coffee-colored curls.
Reaching for his waistband, Uncle unties a moderately sized pouch. Tossing it on the table in front of me the heavy crack of the coins on the table echoed in the room. A small fortune rests in the bag. More than my entire family has had in years. “What’s this?”
“Call it a kick starter to your new life. The coin purse should last you several years comfortably. Perhaps you open your own apothecary or flower shop. Sharing your love of plants with a small human village sounds like your speed.” Nodding, Uncle bowed his head. “Though I wish you could stay, I understand how you”re feeling. We would have become great companions. But I recognize that your journey lies beyond what this court has to offer.”
Gawking at the pouch, my eyes flick back to Uncle. “This is too much. I can’t take this.” Guilt riddles my center.”
Tutting at me, Uncle frowns. “No, no. I insist. Please take it.” Wrinkling his gray eyebrows, he then adds, “Accepting this allows me to rest easy know that you”re alright and have the basics to survive. Ganymede, fetch Pandora a bag of supplies,” commands Uncle who stretches out on the long sofa. The brown-haired teen nods curtly, before exiting the room. The curly haired man was as silent as a shade. Had I not seen him leave, I would have questioned if Ganymede was there.
Sighing internally, I nod at Uncle. “Thank you for your gift.” Placing it deep into my bag, I stand to give him a hug. It felt awkward but also the right thing to do. “Thank you for everything.”
“Welcome my dearie. Now promise me, for your safety, do not return to the castle,” Uncle warns sternly. “If Apollo discovers your deceit, the consequences would be dire for you.” I watch Uncle expecting that he’ll laugh. Uncle’s face remains as grave as his voice.
What? I figured he’d look for me, but kill me if I return? Now that was unexpected.
Laughing nervously, my thoughts spiral.
Uncle crosses his arms. “Pandora, I”m serious,” a loud knock sounds at the door. My eyes shot from the door to Uncle. Waiting for him to take the lead. “We will resume this conversation shortly,” he whispers. “Enter.”
Wrapped sandwiches, fruit, and vegetables. Cut and placed purposefully.
At the same time, Ganymede enters with a large backpack, “Here is the travel food, maps, and more.” Dark eyes look from me over to Uncle, seeking approval. Though he seemed to ask me, Uncle’s approval was what he sought.
They packed for me… Did they know that I was leaving?
But how would they know?
I just made up my mind last night.
“Adequate. Thank you, Ganymede,” Uncle lazily replied. “Take these. Call it a start to your new life.”
“Thank you.” I stretch out and give him a hug. He wraps his arms around me. My cheeks brushing past his sandpaper like a cheek against mine, I feel the familiar pounding in my head. Warning me of a premonition to come.
“What’s going on?” Uncle questions, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I stifled a gasp. “I”m just… Feeling emotional about leaving.”
Please buy it.
Narrowed eyes watch me as my vision blurs. Flatly, Uncle states, “Safe travels.”
Nodding softly, I push past Ganymede who stands guard at the door. My eyes flutter as I stumble outside. The streets feel fuller than before as I slide into a quiet side street. Pressing my back on the warm brick, I focus on my breathing.
A vision still pulls at the edges of my mind as I scramble out toward the street.
Ganymede’s bag feels especially heavy on my shoulders. Uncle’s coin pouch clinks softly from in my pocket.
The main street is heavily populated. Almost to the point of feeling suffocating.
The muggy air and my cloak aren”t friends. The combo makes me wonder if I”ll pass out from heat stroke before I could even leave the capital.
As I walk, the wind picks up. The crowd flowing past me. Weaving around the corner, I take the first available side street.
Even the pounding of my footsteps on the tiled road goes straight to my skull.
My brain threatens a rebellion.
My vision narrows as the sound of the boisterous street around me softens into a deafening silence. I can’t even feel my own heartbeat. the echoing pressure pulsing against my skull.
Shaky hands pull at the edges of my cloak, throwing the hood down and my skin is exposed. The fresh air rushes against my face.
A respite from the sickening warmth.
Thumping into another person, a man catches my forearm. “Oh, um excuse me.”
His ethereal tawny skin of the satyr appeared warm and friendly in the sunlight of high noon. “No worries. Have a good day.” Appearing slightly startled he releases me before moving on toward the palace.
Turning away from the castle, I’m no longer in the streets of Caelum.
Blinking, I”m in the palace. Apollo’s formal Throne Room to be precise. A room that I was hardly allowed to be in. Watching through the eyes of someone unknown.
The room is silent while being utterly packed. Everyone’s attention is fixed on Apollo who’s sitting with his legs crossed at the knee on his throne, the god glares down boredly at the entire room.
Scanning the area, all delegates stood in fear. A near endless stream of tears. Some seasoned warriors’ quake at the feet of Apollo atop his dais.
Not a soul comforted those who wept.
Apollo massages his temple, as though he didn’t want to be here. Rubbing away the stress that comes with his position.
“Speak now, satyr.” The lord stares intently into his glass of wine. “Make your pizzo.”
A pizzo? Interesting. Much like taxes they’re meant to ensure lands are protected from a certain evil. Though I”m not sure how they can help prevent the spread of the plague.
…Unless there are evils greater than the plague in this world.
The satyr bows low to the ground. I recognized him instantly. The tawny satyr from the street. Clad in a threadbare traveler”s cloak and the smallest of sun died knapsacks. “Greetings to you, Lord Apollo,” his voice strained. Peeking up over his stooped position on the floor, he continues, “Sire, my name is Silenus of the Marshlands. Former tutor of Dionysus–”
“Yes, yes. I remember your relationship with my half-brother. No need to go into detail about that. Get on with your pledge.” Apollo’s cheeks are flushed from the sweet ambrosia. The Sun God”s gold crown juts out like the rays of the sun.
Apollo looked like a divine menace.
Pursing his lips, Silenus continues. A mixture between masking his frustration and fear. “Your excellency, I present to you pizzo of the Marshlands. Though it’s not our required allotment, I hope your excellency will understand the plight of the Marshlands.” Sighing loudly, the Satyr continues, “The plague has spread to our lands. Our whole village is gone. Only statues and I remain.”
The plague seems to be affecting everyone in this kingdom.
Staring in aghast at the groveling man, Apollo sneers down at the satyr in disdain. Sighing, Apollo finishes his drink and loudly groans before responding to the pleading subject. “No. No. No. As the tutor of my brother, certainly you must be wise enough to know that you do not short the taxes of the land.”
Ganymede approached the god and filled the container before returning to his position behind Apollo. Hardly needing any sort of prompting to do so other than the breathy sigh.
The satyr blurts, “My Lord, my wife is gone. My children are gone. All from the sickness spreading through the lands. No one is left other than me. You’ve got to understand–”
“–Yes, I understand perfectly. You”re trying to short the realm on the taxes that your community is due to pay,” Apollo snaps grouchily. “You as well as I know that if you willfully choose to skip taxes, it harms the kingdom. I refuse to allow the realm to suffer from your laziness.”
“That”s not it,” exclaimed Silenus. “The entire countryside is barren. How could we possibly pay taxes when the entire community is gone.”
“That’s not my concern. Your lack of money management skills would impact our civilization’s ability to provide. Should every single village refuse to pay the pizzo, I wouldn’t be able to run the government.” Glaring at the elderly satyr grouchily, Apollo bares his teeth.
“You don’t understand my Lord,” my eyes fell upon the tawny satyr. “There’s no one left in my village. All of them have been taken by the plague. There’s no way that I can make the pizzo.”
“Work harder, don’t drink away the money you’ve coming in,” warns Apollo.
The satyr glares back at the Lord of Caelum. His eyes now staring venomously. “Take it back.” Silenus demands the God of the Sun.
Sharply I exhaled the breath that I was unconsciously holding. My eyes locked on the satyr before me. Rumors of satyrs’ murderous tendencies have been whispered about by the village. Though previously, it felt like a far stretch for the fun-loving satyrs who followed Dionysus and Pan.
Silenus shakes with anger. Any fear from him is gone.
Apollo rolls his eyes, “You’ve one week to come back and pay me what’s due. Should you not, your pizzo will be your life.” Apollo laughs as he traces the rim of the goblet of ambrosia.
“Demand whatever you like.” Spits the man as he pulls down his clothes to reveal the stone spreading rapidly across his skin.
Judging from what I saw with the nymph, I doubt he has hours left before he too becomes a statue.
“Steal whatever gold and riches you can from your citizens, for in a year, you’ll be squeezing the pizzo from the lifeless rocks and swaying trees of your citizens. There is no one to pay now and there will be none later,” uttered the satyr. “In the name of Pan himself, I curse you!” shouts Silenus. Bleak eyes filled with solemn sadness. Tired and weary, missing those who he loves.
Swirling his drink, Apollo wordlessly gestures to the servant. The ice is chiming across the container. I want to roll my eyes at the Lord of Snootiness standing before me. As though he couldn’t waste a precious word on someone so lowly as a subject of his.
“Seize him, throw him in the dungeon for treason and tax evasion.” Drinking loudly, Apollo downs his second goblet of ambrosia.
Finger clicking on the rim, he wordlessly signals the servant to refill his glass for the third time. The wine bearer Ganymede looks down as he pours the wine.
With alcohol flushed cheeks and actively becoming more barbaric and boisterous by the moment, Apollo grins as the satyr is forced to the ground.
The palace guards binding his hands tightly behind his back. His eyes glare murderously at the drunken god. “I pray to Pan that for the sake of the nation that the House of Hera returns and claims their rightful place as the rulers of the court.”
Apollo looks on inebriated bemusement. Sitting tall and mighty. As though he is untouchable.
“Persephone would be disgusted by you,” the satyr states as he glares at the drunk god before him. “It’s no wonder why she left you for the God of the Dead.”
Loudly slurping his wine, the god pauses. His drink falls from his hands. Clattering against the stones.
One glass.
Two glasses.
Three glasses.
Floor.
Collapsing to the floor, Apollo seizes. Wheezing loudly, I can hear the distress in his voice. Convulsing, he looks like he is barely holding down his lunch. Clutching his stomach, Apollo moans.
All the color in his face is gone.
Hooded figures step forward from the crowd in the Throne Room. Navy blue with an emblem of a storm cloud with a lightning bolt on the left side of the chest. Five in total. Some holding battle axes, great swords and one holding a pike.
“Lord of the Sun,” booms the leader. “We’re here to claim what’s rightfully our master’s. Tonight, you”re destined for Tartarus with the other treasonous gods.”
Apollo looks inches from losing consciousness at the foot of his throne.
The abdominal pain, the seizing, and the respiratory distress all ring bells in my mind. Knowledge from not so long ago. The chemical which could lethally poison a human in minutes. Simply touching the compound without protection causes death in most humans. Even for the gods, it’s said to impair them greatly. That and even worse is capable if Chiron is to be believed.
Quicksilver: the God Killer.