28
Mint floods my senses as I shut my eyes. I feel wet snow heavily falling on me.
Wind whips my hair around my face. Shifting my heels, I sneak into the snow. Water leaking into my slippers. The mountain is covered in snow.
Opening my eyes, I jolted back at the sight of the snowy mountain. The sun of Caelum is gone. The garden disappeared.
Pushing in between the men, I wave. Neither look at me.
“Hello?” I wave at the hunched over man, “Where am I?” Neither acknowledge my presence. They continue to look through me.
A shiver rolls down my spine as another frigid gust blows snow from a nearby elevated area. Neither responded.
“I spoke with the oracles today. Do you know what they told me?” The voice booms like thunder.
A man curled into a ball lay nearly bare in the snow. Threadbare pants are loose on him. His stained shirt is ripped at his core. Poured onto his chest is liquid gold.
Is this how they’re torturing him? By pouring molten metal on him. Each drop scorched his skin. The burning material made it almost look like a god’s ichor spilling out of him. Pouring out onto the ground.
Golden chains are pulled taunt at his wrists. Binding the man to the mountain.
Dad?
No, it can’t be.
Please don’t let it be him.
Swiveling around, I stare at the frosted peaks. Where am I?
Everything felt so familiar. Whispering at my skin like I should know this place.
Kazbek.
This is Kazbek Mountain. Have I been here before? No. No. No. I couldn”t have been here before. Kazbek Mountain is in the realm of the gods. Which court, I”m not sure. I must have seen a picture or painting of this place somewhere. Probably in a book. Shit, maybe I should cut back on books because this vision feels like reality.
A rush of wind sends a cool shiver down my back. My attention returns to dad.
The man is silent.
Solemn.
I could almost feel him praying for help.
“The oracles have prophesied that someone will come along and hamper my coup. My plans to regain control of my court. Of my home,” adds the stranger from the Veil who towers over dad and I. Eyes full of the familiar electricity which ripples through the clearing. “But they can’t determine who. Even your great prodigies can’t see their identity. Now, master of foresight, reveal to me the identity of this god.”
The head rolls in our direction, dad stares through me. Maybe to me? It”s like he knows that I”m here.
The cool cerulean eyes of the god watch me. Like he knows I”m there. Not a word is said.
The god still has dad mixed up with the titan.
How long will Dad have when the god figures out that he isn’t immortal?
Will the god kill him?
Styx.
But when I watch my father, a sinking feeling fills my soul.
Dad knows.
Dad is trying to deceive a god.
“Just give it up!” I shout. “No secret is worth your life.”
The god’s eyes glow like lightning bugs from the creek near my home. Thankfully, it seems that he can’t hear me.
With unfocused eyes, I listen as my dad utters, “I have no heirs. I”m but a humble human hunter. No progeny as I have told you a thousand times before.”
“Drop the act,” the god warns. “Or I”ll make this round of your torture particularly memorable.
“Dad! Where can I find you?” I shouted. My voice was hoarse and shaking. The snow plummeted down onto us. Sharply digging into my exposed skin like shards of ice, no matter how I attempt to block the flakes with my hands.
“Persephone,” Dad whispers. Speaking much like how Ari often communicates. Not always verbal but almost like our minds are linked.
His voice was faint. So weak.
His lips are cracked from dehydration. Even with all the snow falling around us.
My nose grows pink from the cold as I shiver.
The god snarls, “Yes, I”m aware.”
Dad’s eyes are full of hatred. Staring at the man from the clearing.
I snap my head backwards. Voices echo around me.
“Persephone is the key,” Dad”s voice crackles. “Persephone can lead you to what you seek.” His eyes are fixed on me.
“You are useless you old malaka!” The gold shouts off a string of curses. “You know as well as I that I”m looking for her already. Tracking her down through you. This is why we’re here now!”
Dad was never a violent person. Not even when people inexplicably hurt him. But his haunting stare is seared into my mind forever.
A gaze full of fury.
Anger.
Rubbing my eyes, I blink rapidly. Am I losing my mind? Did someone slip me ambrosia?
“Find her,” he whimpered.
Scrunching my eyes, I focus on dad.
His mouth remains shut as he whispers, “Beware of the Old Ones. If he finds Persephone… Find her before they do.” Dad’s voice trails off in my mind.
He watches me, soaking me in before turning to the god. Dad shouts, “Even if I did truly have an heir, I would never jeopardize an innocent person’s life. Rot in Tartarus!”
The god hisses at dad,
His eyes flash back to me. “Beware.”
A flash of blinding light. She jolts in her seat. Tumbling to the snow laden ground, I grip the frozen water in my hands. Feeling delighted by the feel of the ice.
Find Persephone.
That is probably the last thing that I would like to do.
What would Apollo do if the goddess return?
But for Dad… I need to.
“What’s going on my dear?” Uncle Ov”s eyes are full of concern.
The hound watches me. Leaning back down, I scratch behind his ears tentatively.
What’s going on?
Am I going crazy.
Tension didn’t leave my shoulders, “My bad, I think I got lost in my thoughts. What were you saying?”
Crunch.
Looking down at the source of the noise, I observe a clump of snow under the heel of my leather sandal. Impossible. Blinking my eyes, I wonder if I”m dreaming. Though I”m awake, I watch the snow melt under my heel. When we’re easily 65 degrees. By no means is the weather hospitable enough for the frigid snow.
It was real. It had to have been. My visions weren’t supposed to be something that affects me outside of the dream. Sure, someone could come up and grab me in the dream, but they couldn’t follow me.
But this snow felt different.
Acting as casually as possible, I trace my finger around my glass of tea. ”Have you heard of mortals having visions when they cross the Veil?” Taking a sip of my drink, I try to casually observe him while at the same time also trying to not look so interested in his answer.
Uncle Ov’s hound whines quietly from underneath the table. I jump slightly. I would have sworn he was still under the tree. As though giving a warning. ”Not that I can think of.” Ov asks as he contemplated the unusual question, “What in Gaia would have prompted that?” Raising an eyebrow, Uncle watches closely. Face full of curiosity.
I have said too much.
The golden dog stretches and escapes from under the garden table. The large russet hound rests his head on my arm rest. Sad eyes watch me. Scratching the head of a beautiful dog, I smile down at the pet.
Can Kuon sense my discomfort? Is he trying to calm me down?
”Oh no reason. I heard of some palace visitors discussing it.” Please don”t call me out.
Please. I plead into the unknown.
“No worries my dear.” He smiled, taking another swig of his tea. “Kuon, lay down,” Ov commands. Kuon reluctantly abided by the order. I watch the dog hunker under a nearby willow tree. Taking in what little shade the garden had to offer. “There are some established paths through the Veil. These passageways tend to be safer and more reliable. Although this isn’t a guarantee, then again only the truly desperate would risk entering the woods.”
Raising an eyebrow, I reply, “Why is that?”
“The forest of the Veil is as dangerous as they come. Even for deities. Restless spirits live in the woods. Older than some of the primordials themselves, the Oneiroi.”
“The who?”
“Ghosts attempting to lead the weary traveler astray. Take them off the path, right into the clutches of monsters. Pouncing on them, killing them. Humans are especially susceptible to the Oneiroi and the monsters. So don’t get adventurous on us, understand?” He watches me. Eyes cool and calculating.
“Fine. I promise.”