10. Caelus
Caelus
Eating Demeter’s fruit had been a disastrous experience. I was immensely grateful no one else had located the tree when I did, because I’d taken one foolishly huge bite — and promptly shat my pants.
I had to backtrack about a mile down a dull grey path — praying I’d picked the right one — to go roll through the muddy hollow I’d almost face-planted into earlier.
Once I was sure I was fully covered, the scent of shit masked by the deathly foul odour of sludge, I trekked back up to the tree to the sweet symphony of squelching, squeaking sandals.
Why this style of footwear was most favoured among the gods, especially the soldiers, I’d never know. Logically, they made no sense. From this point on, I’d be taking a leaf out of Nyssa’s book and lacing up my leather boots.
Fuck fashion.
Hermes appeared a few minutes after I called for him, thoroughly thrilled to make me wait, covered in mud and shit — though thankfully unaware of the latter. He took one look at me, turned up his nose, and sneered.
“What happened to you?”
“Slipped,” I grunted.
Pouting, Hermes delicately pressed a single finger to my forehead, where there must have still been a clear patch of skin.
The earth fell out from beneath my feet as he stepped forwards, folding the realm in half as he moved.
The Parthenon appeared around us, and my stomach revolted violently.
I was once again in danger of faecal disaster.
I excused myself, ignoring the horrified gazes of half the Primal Council, and trudged down the marble steps built into the side of Mount Olympus.
The Palace of Aetherion was built while my father was King, nestled into the mountain’s base.
A tactical decision, so all who visited to the Parthenon had to stroll right past my parents’ behemoth of a home.
A hot shower and change of clothes were in my immediate future, followed by a bottle of whatever alcohol was available at the Prancing Satyr.
With any luck, Aros would already be there by the time I showed up, and we could drown Demeter’s grief together. He’d probably fuck the first beautiful being who smiled at his wily charms, while I had a date with my hand in bed later on.
An hour, and half a dozen shots of whiskey later, I leaned back in the worn leather booth, enjoying the sound of a satyr’s pipes.
He was accompanied by a raven-haired demigod, serenading the couples — and throuples — writhing together on the sticky wooden barroom floor.
She reminded me a little too much of another dark-haired beauty, and I tipped back another shot in an effort to redirect my thoughts.
Thankfully, my fiery friend dropped into the seat across from me, grinning ear to ear.
“Did you hear who I spent my day with?” Aros asked, glee igniting his irises.
“Who?”
“The goddesses of love and death, respectively,” he chuffed, his grin turning wicked as my brows rose. “Imagine: little old me, strolling through the forest with a beautiful woman on each arm.”
“Somehow I doubt that’s how it went down,” I muttered around the rim of my whiskey glass.
“You’d be right, of course,” Aros laughed. “Hades’ girl nearly skewered Aphrodite’s eyeball.”
“What?” I choked out.
“Word of warning, don’t sneak up on that one. She’s well trained, with wicked sharp reflexes and deadly aim.”
“I knew that from the training arena.”
“That was nothing, Caelus.” Aros sat a little straighter, his face shifting into uncharacteristic severity.
“She threw a dagger made of nothing but shadows, two-thirds of the way across that clearing, and knocked Archimedes’ sword off its path to my head.
Or Aphrodite’s, I wasn’t exactly sure who he was aiming for. ”
My brows lifted. “I don’t know anyone, aside from maybe Athena, who could make that shot,” I murmured.
Aros nodded, taking a swig directly from the bottle.
Curiously, I felt a flicker of relief that Nyssa could defend herself. I wouldn’t put it past half the champions in the Rite to try and eliminate her early on.
My mother had been shouting around the palace, cursing Hades for thinking he had any claim to the Olympian throne. It was only a matter of time before she began whispering in the ears of the council, plotting against the daughter of death — if she hadn’t already.
“Speaking of Athena,” Aros said, “she had a few questions after the trial. Wanted to know if we were officially allies or aligned with anyone else.” He shrugged.
“Well, are we?”
“What a stupid question, lord of lightning,” he drawled. “Of course we are.”
“Just us, though, right?” I raised a brow, making the demand clear.
“For now.”
I chose to ignore the snipe, already knowing exactly who we both hoped would join our alliance. Though, if I was being honest with myself, I had no desire to share her.
Not since I first laid eyes on her all those years ago.
Aros and I emerged from the tavern hours later, sometime between midnight and dawn. Selene’s moon and Astraeus’ stars lit the grimy cobblestone roads leading back up to the Palace as we stumbled along them — though we never made it that far.
A trio of hooded figures ambushed us before we reached the reputable part of Aetherion. In my liquor-infused state, I was slow to react, and one of them landed a blow to the back of my head.
I swung out as I fell, blindly lashing out at whoever had rattled my brain. I felt the satisfying thud of impact before hitting the ground hard, my chin copping the bulk of the impact against the stone-laden ground.
“I said don’t hurt them!” a harsh voice hissed.
“It was an accident, sorry!” someone else replied.
Before I could coax my lightning to the surface, icy shackles snapped around my wrists, and I sagged to the ground, all fight fleeing my body.
With a shout, I tried once more — even a flicker of electricity could’ve helped — but it was like a wet blanket had been tossed over my head, dousing the sparks entirely. I couldn’t feel even a flicker of power in my veins. I felt stripped bare.
I felt mortal. Powerless.
Worse, I was powerless and drunk.
I twisted angrily, cursing loud enough to echo off the stones, my vision blurring as I moved. I couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol or the blows to the head. Either way, if they were going to take me out, it didn’t matter.
“Fuck you!” Aros growled, his face shoved into the ground beside me as they cuffed him too.
“What do you want?” I yelled at the figure crouching before me.
She lifted dainty, unmistakably feminine fingers and pulled back her hood. A pair of familiar, piercing blue eyes met mine, and my face twisted in confusion as recognition set in.
“Athena? What’s going on? Is this about the trials?”
“Shh. We just want to talk. Then we’ll let you both go,” she whispered. “Help them up.”
Large hands hooked beneath my armpits, pulling me to my feet. I turned, trying to identify the male behind me, but all I caught was a glint of gold beneath the hood. It could have been anyone — we all bled the same. I just hoped I’d been able to hit him as hard as he’d hit me.
“What about these?” Aros growled, thrusting his cuffed wrists in the goddess’s face.
“Precautionary measure, I’m afraid. Once we get where we’re going, and you prove yourselves trustworthy, I’ll remove them myself,” she replied.
“What are they, and why have they severed my powers?” I scowled, abhorring the destitution I was faced with for the first time since I’d come of age.
“A new invention. As long as the metal is in contact with your skin, your powers will remain unavailable to you.”
Athena led us through a maze of side streets, her feet landing silently on the stones.
She moved like a predator — soundlessly prowling towards her destination.
I suspected she was leading us in circles to confuse us.
I recognised the same dilapidated house, with its garden statue of a pegasus, as we passed it a second time.
The tail had snapped off but was placed neatly next to its hind legs, like somebody had once intended to repair it but never got the chance.
Eventually, we arrived at a large, empty theatre.
Correction: almost empty.
As Athena led us down the steps and to the centre of the stage, cloaked figures emerged from the shadows and slipped into seats near the front. I counted twelve in total, including Athena and her two lackeys.
“Caelus and Aros. You have been brought here—” she began.
“Against our will,” Aros muttered.
The goddess levelled him with a sharp glare before continuing.
“As I was saying, you have been brought here because we have been watching you. Since the Ascension Rite was announced, our group has monitored all major players and their champions.”
I frowned, wondering how extensively I’d been monitored — and how I hadn’t noticed.
Athena’s gaze shifted to me. “The Crown of Olympus choosing a new bearer has been anticipated for centuries, I’m sorry to say, Caelus.” Sympathy softened her features, unaware I wasn’t grieving the former king the way she expected.
“A prophecy foretold it. And so, we have been preparing, waiting for Fate’s chosen bearer to emerge. Our group has grown steadily as whispers of the prophecy spread. We’ve even managed to infiltrate the Rite itself, as you have likely already deduced.”
“What’s that got to do with us?” Aros grunted.
“Both of you have acted in ways that are complementary to our goals. You’ve chosen to ally with those our enemies despise. We believe you can help us.”
She paused, looking each of us in the eye.
“Do either of you really want the crown?” she asked quietly.
Aros scoffed. “Of course not. Do you really think a king could drink and fuck the way I do?”
I huffed a laugh. “Actually, yes. How do you think my father spent the last millennia?”
He paused, then shrugged. “My answer is still no. But I couldn’t very well refuse my father and have him give the glory — and therefore, all the glory fucking — to one of my horrid brothers, now could I?”