21. Nyssa
Nyssa
“Fucking Diana,” Aphrodite sneered from her lounge chair.
We were sprawled out in the sunlight — still a wondrous experience for me — on the white marble balcony overlooking her extensive gardens. They’d flourished tenfold since I’d last seen them — granted, that was at night, and approximately a year ago.
“Your landscaping looks wonderful now, Aph,” I told her.
Curiously, she blushed. “Ah, thank you. Just something Demeter’s been helping me with,” she murmured.
“Demeter? Since when do you hang out with my grandmother?”
She cringed, looking suddenly guilty. “After her trial… I reached out…”
Now it was my turn to wince. “Say no more.”
“I wanted to tell you… there are so many things I want to tell you?—”
“But it’s not your place, I get it,” I shrugged.
Demeter’s secrets were her own. So were Aph’s, for that matter.
“So how long did it take you to get out of Hermes’ labyrinth?
” I asked, taking a sip of the fruity wine she’d poured for me an hour ago.
It was bubbly and sweet, and I found myself unexpectedly enjoying it.
Aphrodite groaned.
“Way too fucking long,” she moaned. “After you left me with the sphinx,” — she shot me a faux scowl — “Caelus answered his riddle immediately, while Aros snuck around behind her and fled just as Caelus answered.” Aphrodite laughed at the memory, and I grinned at the visual she painted.
“The sphinx was visibly distraught. She couldn’t very well leave and chase Aros down, and she was obliged to let Caelus pass for answering correctly,” Aph continued. “So, she took it out on Leander again — slashed him to pieces a second time.”
I snorted. “Karma.”
“Absolutely. Anyway, it took me a while to pluck up the courage to approach her after that disturbing display of scathed ,” she said, shuddering. “But I guess she took pity on me. My riddle was almost too easy.”
Curiosity got the better of me. What had hers been?
“ What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three in the evening? ”
A frown tugged at my brow. “Well, a mortal, obviously… but she never asks the same riddle twice,” I replied, confounded.
“That’s what I thought too. But ‘mortal’ was correct, and I walked right on by.” She took a hearty swig from her glass. “But then I got to that hideous door knocker and the room of junk.”
“How long did it take you in the end?”
Aphrodite sighed, defeated. “Fifty-two hours.”
“Holy shit, Aph!”
“I know, I know — I’m useless at those kinds of puzzles.”
“One: you are one of my two best friends. Two: I don’t waste time on useless immortals. Three: you’ve breezed through every other challenge and you still passed this one!” I scolded.
“My luck will run out eventually. I just hope I can help before then.”
“Help with what?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh nothing. I just meant to help you. You’d make a much better Queen than me. And I’d prefer to keep Poseidon and Ares’ asses off the throne — as much as I like Aros.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” I teased, fully aware that if she wanted him in her bed, he would be there in an instant. He was more than willing when it came to bedroom activities, and according to Charon, a frequent patron of Aetherion’s rather open alehouses.
Great. Now I’m wondering how Charon knows about those.
I wasn’t naive — I knew he wasn’t as closed-off as I was — but I still hated thinking about him in that capacity.
Gross.
“Aph, what’s it like?” I asked, my voice unsteady with apprehension.
“What’s what like?” She frowned.
“Sex.”
Aphrodite cackled, much to my chagrin. “Oh, honey. It’s beyond words.
So much better than your own fingers,” she added with a knowing wink.
“Who’s got you so interested? And more to the point, how do you plan to make it happen without touching each other’s bare skin? ” She quirked a perfect blonde brow.
“Nobody,” I snapped, scowling.
Aphrodite merely laughed, raising her hands mock surrender.
“You know I could find out,” she said, grinning mischievously.
“You wouldn’t.”
“You’re right — I wouldn’t. But only because I respect you. Everyone else is fair game.”
Smiling despite myself, I answered her other question. I told her everything that had happened after Artemis’ trial including the vision and the revelation that I could touch Charon’s skin without reaping his soul.
“Well, that’s an interesting development,” the goddess mused. “I can’t wait to see how you test it out — and on whom .”
With a sultry wink, Aph upended her glass and poured another. She raised it in a toast.
“To new experiences, my dear Nyssa.”
‘New experiences’ could just as easily be construed as ‘new trials’ — and today, it was Athena’s turn.
The day was warm and clear, not a single cloud in the sky. Olympus cycled through the seasons at Demeter’s whim, and today, the sun shone warmly upon my face. A gentle breeze tugged at the loose strands of hair that had escaped my braid. I closed my eyes, savouring the sunlight.
My tiny dragon friend nuzzled into my neck, trilling softly. She, too, seemed to be enjoying the warmth — the calm before the storm.
A polite throat-clear broke the moment, pulling me back down to reality.
Athena had arrived.
Ah. There’s the storm.
She was bedecked in gilded armour — each piece a work of art — etched with intricate, interwoven designs and the image of an owl engraved into her chest plate. The same owl now perched on her shoulder: her animal companion from Artemis’ trial.
She clutched a golden spear in her right hand and a large circular shield in the other. Her long auburn hair spilled loose down her back, crowned by a golden helm.
Athena stood perfectly still, feet set shoulder-width apart, posture rigid. A soldier’s stance.
“Champions,” she called.
I understood now why so many followed her into battle — her low voice commanded attention with every syllable. Athena was not merely a soldier; she was the General, and she had earned her title a hundred times over.
“Your task today is simple. The means of achieving it, a little less so.”
I had expected no less from the goddess of warfare and wisdom.
“The task? Retrieve your medallion from behind those walls.”
Athena turned towards the mountain at her back, where the air rippled and wavered.
Our battlefield appeared, quite literally, out of thin air: a jagged fusion of nature and design.
One corner of my lips tugged upward. The kind of magic required to both construct and conceal an entire fortress on the side of a mountain was impressive.
Flowing down from the mountain’s midpoint and all the way to the sea was a castle hewn from the craggy stone, tucked behind a thick wall at least a mile long.
Battlements curled like talons, and spires rose from the rock like freshly sharpened arrowheads.
To the fortress’s right, a sheer cliff plunged to the sea below, waves crashing violently against the rocks.
Poseidon was spicing things up. Leander grinned wickedly at the sound.
Well, I’d wager he has an unfair advantage.
My dragon let out a low hum of agreement.
“There is one medallion for each of you,” Athena declared.
“You will recognise which is your own upon close examination — and if you don’t, then you don’t possess the wisdom required to rule,” she added flatly.
“This trial will test your wit, your morals, and your ability to work within a team — should you choose to do so. You may ally with another champion, a team of champions, or” — she paused, lifting a dark brow and skewering us with her striking blue stare — “go it alone. I do not recommend that route. Even a King or Queen of Olympus will need allies.”
Her chin lifted, and her eyes locked onto mine. “Your trial ends when you claim your medallion from beyond the castle walls. If the sun sets and it is not in your possession, you will be disqualified from further trials. Good luck.”
Less than a day. Approximately eighteen hours to breach the wall and claim a necklace. It sounded achievable, but I knew better than to expect anything straightforward. Athena would have chosen her obstacles with strategic cruelty.
I only hoped I was ready.
As Hermes had gleefully explained prior to transporting us: because Athena was selected to design this particular trial, she was barred from competing in it.
Instead, the Fates, working in tandem with the other Primals, crafted one solely for her.
She now had to survive inside a locked box, submerged deep in Poseidon’s turbulent seas, for the duration of our trial. I did not envy her.
The lack of air would not kill her, but it would drown her — repeatedly. For hours . If she did not succumb to madness, she would move onto the next challenge with the rest of us.
I shuddered at the thought.
Gods and their bonded animals began to break off, separating into smaller groups. Others lingered, toying with the odds of solo success.
Tychon, predictably, strode right up to Leander. His beady-eyed crow clutched his shoulder, cawing at Leander’s Telkhine hound, while the gods bared their teeth at each other, with thinly veiled hostility.
To my surprise, Aphrodite sidled up to Aros, whose eyes had been burning holes into the side of my face. I had been pointedly ignoring it, indecision warring inside me.
To ally, or not to ally? That was the question. And one I needed to answer quickly.
What do you think, girl?
My dragon swung her violet head around until she located something — or rather, someone . She squawked and nudged me to look.
Intense silver eyes clashed with mine, and my breathing stuttered. I was forever being caught off guard by the storm-wielder’s gaze.
Caelus lifted his chin and strode over, never once breaking eye contact. Diana’s python hissed angrily as he narrowly avoided stepping on it. Somehow, I knew the serpent would fare far worse than the burly god. Diana scowled. I narrowed my eyes right back.
A debt was owed there.