Chapter 29 Nyssa
Nyssa
An hour later, all boats had docked and deposited their representatives on the Isle — an assortment of people old and young, male and female, with all different shades of skin colour, and various styles of dress.
Everyone was seated at the oddly shaped table, Olympians on one side, mortals on the other, and all were waiting for me to speak.
I liked this table. Round, so that no one person could be elevated above any other, and all could see each other clearly.
Perhaps I’ll have one made for the council to match.
Caelus reached for my hand beneath the table, squeezing thrice before releasing it. I think that’s a wonderful idea. Imagine what we could do out of sight, while the others are none the wiser.
Caelus!
Blushing, I rose slowly, and the quiet hum of conversation fizzed out.
“Thank you for coming. I am aware some of you are displaced by the temperature here, so I’ll endeavour to keep things brief.”
My gaze slid around the table, momentarily humbled by what we had already accomplished in this meeting.
Never before has one table housed so many noteworthy faces.
Never before have mortal rulers all been in the same place at once, and definitely not in the presence of gods.
And while not every ruler attended themselves — that would be foolish indeed, Kronos need only wipe out this island to thwart us and throw Ephemeron into further chaos — they had sent someone able to speak on their behalf.
Every Kingdom between the Underworld and Olympus was present.
“By now you are all aware that Zeus is dead, Kronos has risen, and Hera has fled to his side after it was unearthed that she murdered her husband, then attempted to murder her son.”
The priestesses winced, faces reddening, while various grumblings of malcontent sounded around the table.
We had elected to omit a portion of the truth from them — the part where Caelus really had died, and I’d been able to bring him back.
Such things went beyond the minds of mortals.
Furies, they were beyond the minds of us.
Regardless, none of us had any desire to be used, and none wanted Kronos aware of the full scope of my powers.
“You are all also aware that I — Nyssa, daughter of Hades, et cetera, et cetera—”
A sharp snort interrupted me, followed by a spreading blush across Aelia’s face. Kallista took one look at her and dropped a rolling cackle. Queen Idalia was horrified, Arius scowled, others chuckled, but Aphrodite joined them in their loud mirth.
“Sorry, Nyss,” she said between giggles. “It’s just so refreshing to hear women drop their dainty, fake titters, for authentic peals of laughter.”
My lip twitched, longing to join them, but I withheld. “Indeed.”
Addressing the whole table, I continued, “I am queen of all realms thanks to the trials I endured — we endured — last year after Zeus’ death.
I am their queen” — I tipped my head, indicating the Olympians — “and I am your queen, as chosen by this thing.” I gestured to the burnished crown atop my head.
“It chose me, but now I ask you to choose me, too. You have agreed to hear our bids for your allegiance, and I would begin with a discussion, followed by your answer to the question: will you stand with us?”
“How do we know that Kronos will bring war to Ephemeron?” Io asked.
“You are so shut off from the world here on your island that you’ve already missed the first two battles,” someone snarled back.
Sea-blue eyes flicked to mine as he got to his feet.
“I am Prince Galen of Thaldon, your grace, and I am curious to know why my god is not in attendance? Has he, too, joined Lord Kronos?”
Tartarus.
Thankfully, I was saved from answering. Aros, seated at my right hand, slammed his fist down on the table, rattling the earthenware.
“Poseidong currently rots in the prison beneath Mount Olympus.”
Galen reeled, quickly morphing from shock to anger. “What is the meaning of this? I demand to know your reasoning!”
Aros uncoiled slowly, never taking his eyes off the mortal prince. “I suggest you lower your tone, boy,” he rasped, voice low and terrifying enough for Galen to drop back into his seat. “Poseidon putrefies like fish guts in the sand on a hot summer day—”
I mentally retched at the thought.
“—because he dared to strike out at our Queen. He did not succeed, nor will you if you so much as think about it.”
The words fell from his lips, landing like a blow to the gut.
Galen cowed, but wisely refrained from further comment.
I’d never heard Aros sound like that. Especially not on my behalf, like he could skewer a person with little more than that piercing glare — and that he would relish the opportunity to do so.
He looked like his father, though I’d never dare tell him that.
He takes this role seriously, Nightshade. More than anything he’s ever undertaken.
A soft burst of humility bloomed beneath my sternum — my own, not Caelus’.
“I give this warning once and only once,” Aros continued. “Beyond that, your actions are your own — but your consequences are mine to deliver,” he snarled, grinning like a wildcat.
My eyes locked onto a slight movement behind him.
Correction: like a manticore, I thought, noting Rufus’ eerily similar lionlike grin.
Does that mean you resemble me? Velira taunted from somewhere high above.
I longed to be with her so badly my toes curled in my boots, fighting off the urge to take off with her and disappear into the clouds, leaving this world and our problems behind.
If I'm half as vicious as you, that will work in my favour today.
You do not need my viciousness today, though I am more than happy to provide it. You have the heart of a dragon, godling. All ferocity, all fire — but when you love, you do so with every inch of it.
I snuck a glance at Caelus, who smiled softly when I caught him already staring.
You’re not wrong, I told her.
“Queen Nyssa is the only thing standing between us and doom,” Aros growled. “Kronos offers us nothing but fear, despair, and eternal servitude, if you’re so lucky. If Queen Nyssa falls, then so do we all.”
“How do you know?” Idalia asked — not accusingly, just curious.
Apollo leaned forward to answer, twisting his fingers into articulate shapes.
Idalia lowered her gaze as a deep blush bloomed across her face. “I am sorry, my lord Apollo. I do not understand this language of the hands.”
The man seated beside her raised his thick brows. His own dark hands spelled out words as he spoke aloud for Idalia’s benefit — and anyone else who had not learned this arguably crucial manner of conversing.
“If I may, your graces,” he spoke and signed. “I am King Lyros of Meloidia and it would be an honour to translate for my god today.”
Apollo nodded his thanks as he proceeded to again answer Idalia’s question.
We know because each of us were present when a true vision possessed me. They all heard the words I spoke. They all learned what Fate has decreed.
“What words?” she asked in hushed tones.
Apollo turned to me, a question sparkling in his golden-hued eyes.
I shook my head sharply.
“Confidences of such importance are strictly for allies only. And so, I guess, we’ve reached the portion of the evening wherein you need to decide where your kingdom stands.
Are you with us… or with them? Because to sit idly by and do nothing — to commit yourselves to no side — is still a boon for Kronos.
You would willingly sanction the slaughter of innocents.
” I sent a piercing glare Galen’s way, knowing that he of all here should understand the cost of this war.
“You would paint targets on your own backs and leave your kind to their demise.”
“Why should we agree to send our warriors to fight for you, when Kronos may offer us greater opportunities?” Arius drawled. “When, perhaps, our own gods have forsaken you?”
“By all means.” I swooped a hand through the air, landing on the docks.
“Leave. Take your chances with a Titan who has called the coldest depths of Tartarus home for the last several millennia. Hedge your bets on the fact that he is of sound mind; that you would be more than just pawns for him to use and sacrifice at will.”
“Would we not be your pawns too?” he snarled.
I rose to my full height, letting my gaze touch on all of them seated around the table. I was met with patient silence, hostile glares, encouraging smiles, and the blank stares of those who were seemingly indifferent.
“You would not be pawns, no. You would swear oaths and act of your own free will, but would fall under the leadership of one of the gods seated around this very table.
“Do you realise what a momentous occasion this is? For one table to host a royal representative of every mortal kingdom, and all but four of your sacred gods? For all of those gods to be aligned in values and hopes for the realms? For petty squabbles to be placed behind you so that you may live to one day see them through?”
Arius’ forehead creased in thought even as he contemplated the faces surrounding him.
Idalia’s expression softened, while her daughter beamed.
Lyros pursed his lips, his hazel eyes sparkling like that of his chosen god.
Demtria glared at any who dared even hint at second-guessing their decisions, and even old Sophocles sent withering frowns around the table.
The rulers of Theris and Kardia were calm, along with the Lunarian representative — apparently having made their decision already — while Prince Icarus of Caldris internally debated the merits of each argument.
Aelia sighed, leaning back in her seat. “I have been instructed to hear you out, that is all. I cannot commit Dromaris one way or the other until I relay this meeting to my father and he deigns to make a final decision.”
“Would have been nice for the old bandit king to attend himself, then,” Arius muttered.