Chapter 29
TRYP
I tended to her body gently. We should have been giving her burial rites, but none of us were ready to say that final goodbye. Instead, Demke was using his magic to keep her in stasis, her body permanently in the state it was directly after her death, decomposition held at bay by the God of Renewal.
Eventually, we’d have to let her go. It had been four days, and I knew it wasn’t healthy to keep her up here, in her Gryphon nest, like Snow White, just waiting for true love’s kiss to wake her. Breathing out a rough sigh, I leaned over and kissed her waxy lips, dead and still under mine. Unlike Snow, she didn’t wake, but there was no doubt in my mind that she was my true love. My heart felt like it was a cold stone in my chest, one bad day from shattering into a million pieces.
The only part of her body that felt warm was the part touching the still form of Cy. If this went on much longer, I was going to have to try and set up some kind of IV system so he didn’t wither away beside her. I couldn’t help Wren, but I could keep Cy alive. I didn’t know how to place an IV, as that was more Teron’s domain, but I could learn from the internet, and we had all the equipment.
Still, I did what I could for them both. Instead of letting go and grieving healthily, I oiled Wren’s skin, brushed her hair, and made her look like she was still alive, just asleep. None of us could grieve appropriately, I guess.
Standing, I moved out of the room quietly and shut the door. I was the only one who went in there; not even Erus could stand to see her corpse.
The Gryphon—and by extension, Teron—still hadn’t returned, and I was beginning to worry they never would. I thought he’d come back for the babies, but so far, it had been Milo who’d stepped up into that role.
Moving into the courtyard, I looked around at all the melancholy dogs, unsure what to do without their leader. They still did their rounds, guarded the perimeter, and seemed to be reporting to the Valkyries. But without Cy, it was like a convoluted game of charades. I wouldn’t be surprised if they started to drift away as more time passed without Cy here as a grounding force.
So far it hadn’t mattered, though, because the Valkyries were turning everyone away. I think if they could have built a wall and locked the place down like a fortress, they would have. Unfortunately, the villagers needed to come and go from town, and there was no ward that could stop people from portaling in.
Hearing a ruckus at the front of the compound, I hurried down the stairs, looking for a weapon or one of the other guys. What the fuck was going on now? Couldn’t we have a minute to mourn? I could hear shouting, so I picked up the dagger we kept strapped under the table in the entryway.
Surprisingly, it was Milo who was raging, in full bull-headed form, attacking someone at the gate. Whoever it was fended him off easily, however. “ You knew! When you came here, you already knew what would happen,” he roared, and it all clicked into place.
Apollo.
Man, he had some big golden balls to return here. Had he had something to do with Wren’s death? Because if he’d set anything into motion, there wasn’t a corner of the world remote enough to escape our wrath.
Demke appeared behind me. I assumed he’d try and break it up, but he just leaned against the doorjamb, happy to let Milo do his best to gouge a hole in the enigmatic God.
“I didn’t know exactly?—”
The snort wasn’t even close to human, and it was all the warning Apollo got before Milo charged at him, taking them both to the ground. He hammered his fists at Apollo’s face, but was always just a fraction too slow. More likely, Apollo was letting him hold him down, but drew the line at letting him get a hit in.
Apollo huffed, shoving at Milo’s chest, sending the Minotaur skidding through the dirt. “Of course I knew what was going to happen. I know what happens next too, and what happens after that. I’m gifted with prophecy, you big, dumb oaf. I also know what happens if I screw with the threads of fate, and that is far worse.”
Demke’s back was ramrod straight. “Worse than her dying?”
“Yes.” Apollo’s face was solemn, and I was tempted to believe him.
Milo stood up, brushing dust from his legs. “Worse for her, or worse for you?”
Narrowing his eyes, Apollo sneered, “For the world. Don’t forget, she dragged my son down with her. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly.”
I leaned close to Demke. “Like he doesn’t have fifty more to replace him.”
The air around us crackled, and you didn’t need to be a genius to know that we were beginning to piss Apollo off. He straightened his white shirt and linen pants—somehow he could pull off double linen without looking like an acolyte or a sixty-something divorcée named Gladys.
“Look, I came here because I thought you might need some appeasing when it comes to this situation. Because I still love this Island, and because Cy loves the girl and he means a lot to me, despite being one of fifty.” He cut a glare at me. “But if you want to fumble around in the dark, go for it. It will all play out how it’s supposed to, regardless of your feelings.”
Demke moved toward the scuffle. “Let him go, Milonos.”
Backing up but still huffing with rage, Milo glared at Apollo, who seemed completely unconcerned with the fact he was in the direct path of a raging bull.
“Come, we can go have coffee at the kafenio . Milo, go and see if Néit needs help with the infants. Tryp, with me.” Erus was sleeping, having gotten up and down with the babies all night, and no one wanted to wake him.
What Demke left unsaid was that there was no way Apollo was making it inside the house anytime soon. However, the God in question didn’t seem to be perturbed by the implication he was untrustworthy.
As we walked through town, the villagers stopped and stared. They might have been used to us, but Apollo was a whole other level of inhuman. Beautiful, but disconcertingly so. The power he possessed was the kind that raised the hair on your arms. You didn’t know if you wanted to walk toward him in awe or run away screaming.
If I could tell them what to do, it would be to run as far and as fast as possible.
We stepped into the café, where one of Stavros’s nieces was manning the counter. I wished I knew all their names, but I’d swear, he had a hundred nieces and daughters and granddaughters. It was hard to keep up.
She eyed our group warily, and Demke indicated we’d like three coffees. We sat in the furthest corner of the patio, tucked away from the sight of the casual passerby.
Sighing, Demke steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “I’d apologize for Milonos’s behavior, but it's been a rough week, and he was just doing what we’ve all wanted to do for quite some time.”
Apollo snorted. “I expect little from you Minoans. You’re basically a step up from barbarians, even after all this time.”
Okay, so we were going with barely veiled barbs. Should get interesting quickly.
The waitress came over with three coffees, and an entire platter of pastries and breads. Demke gave her a polite smile, and she hustled away as fast as her aging knees could carry her.
Smart woman.
“Let’s not pretend we are old friends. Why are you here?”
Sighing, Apollo took a deep sip of his coffee, then grabbed a pastry. “Mmmm, these mortals still know how to cook.” Little flakes of pastry flew from his lips. If only the people who wrote epic poems about him could see him now. “I wanted to say how sorry I am about the loss of Wren. I might have only met her for a moment, but she made an impression.”
Nothing was more true than that. I’d wanted her as soon as I saw her, and I’d loved her as soon as I got to know her soul. Her death… I pushed away the pain again. That was for later, when we weren’t face-to-face with a potential threat.
“Thank you,” Demke said stiffly.
Apollo inclined his head. “I’m not sure if you know this—and I assume you don’t, given your jibes—but I love my children. I didn’t get to see Cydon for centuries, and now I’ve lost him before I got to truly reconnect with him.”
The stories of the things Apollo would do for his children were whispered about among Mythics. Getting Hades to go against Zeus for Asclepius was only the most commonly known. As a general rule, Gods didn’t make good parents, too jealous of someone coming close to them in power, but Apollo broke the mold. Even if he did have a ton of children.
“So if you need a selfish reason to attribute this to, let it be that. I want my son back after a few thousand years. I don’t want another child stuck in the Underworld forever. I’m sure you’ve talked to Hades, and he’s told you that without asking Zeus”—his scoff told me what he thought of asking the King of the Gods for anything—“getting anyone out of the Underworld is impossible.
“But, Demke, my friend, we both know that nothing is impossible. We are old Mythics with an abundance of long-standing feuds and favors. I may have whispered in a few ears, suggested a few things, to help maybe get your girl back to you. I can’t tell you what, in case I change the weave, but I don’t want you to lose hope yet. He stood, grabbing another sweet pastry. “And don’t bury your dead just yet. A long mourning period would be best for all, if you want my opinion.” Smiling, he downed the last of his coffee. “I’ll leave you to it. I know you’re probably busy, and I have a date with a warrior Goddess who hates my guts.”
I tried not to let the hope that fluttered in my chest take root. Not yet, not until I knew that Apollo wasn’t just fucking with us, rubbing salt in our wounds. Demke watched Apollo leave, his face pensive.
“Do you think he’s speaking the truth?”
He shrugged. “We both know the word of other Mythics is worse than shit, and the ancient Greeks are the worst of all.” My heart sank a little, the hope fleeing as melancholy returned. “But still, what does he have to gain from us not burying Wren? Nothing.”
We sat in silence and ate the remaining pastries, lost in thoughts and memories, and clutching tightly to the single thread of hope our mortal enemy had just offered.