23. Nyssa #2
“So, you haven’t just been breezing through unscathed?”
“Furies, no! If you had only seen the state I was in after climbing the tallest damned tree in Artemis’ forest, trying to catch this little she-devil!
” She gestured to her dove, now sitting atop Rufus’ lion head.
“Don’t let her angelic colouring fool you.
Just as I reached her branch high up in the pine, Leucia would flap her wings and rise two more branches above my head, until there were none higher left to rest on.
” Aphrodite laughed at the memory. “She bonded with me at the top, and I was so surprised I smacked almost every branch on the way back down.”
The room erupted in laughter — genuine, unburdened laughter.
I didn’t know if this room had ever heard such a sound. I turned to Charon, noting the way his eyes lingered on Aphrodite’s mouth as she cackled.
“I hope you haven’t drunk all the wine; otherwise, you’ll be sent on a mission to retrieve more. We’re sorely in need of a drink after that one,” I said to my best friend. His humour drained instantly, replaced by something akin to pity.
“I got your message,” he replied solemnly.
“And you personally saw them to the gates?”
He nodded.
“Who was on sentencing duty?”
“Thanatos. And yes, I made sure that the mortal soldiers were sent to the Elysian Fields, where they belong.”
“Thank you, Char.”
He nodded, extending the bottle of wine.
“Aye, that part was fucking awful,” Aros said, intercepting the bottle and taking a huge swig. “But this is actually really good,” he murmured, passing it to Caelus, who followed suit.
“Agreed,” he said, passing it to Aphrodite.
“Mmm, agreed,” she hummed, finally passing it to me.
I raised it to my lips, but by then only a single drop graced my tongue. I huffed a laugh.
“I’ll get some more wine; you deal the cards, Char.”
A few hours and more than a few bottles of wine later, Aros had reached an understanding of ‘Pay the Ferryman’ that none of us could surpass, not even Charon. He was unbeatable. And overwhelmingly obnoxious about that fact.
“That’s some beginner’s luck,” Charon grumbled.
“God of war,” Aros winked. “Strategy falls under that umbrella of abilities. Speaking of, why don’t we raise the stakes a little? Have a friendly wager on the next round?”
A collective groan sounded from the group, all of us wondering where this was headed but knowing it was nowhere good.
“Alright, losers have to give something to the winner.”
“That’s it?” Charon asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“That’s it.” Aros grinned like he’d already won.
That is, until I laid down the winning hand precisely six minutes later.
“Pay the Ferryman!” I bellowed. “Bow before me, for I am the mighty Nyssa, goddess of the Underworld!” I yelled, climbing atop the table and knocking more cards to the floor.
My friends — for that was what they had become — howled with laughter. Aros clutched his belly, Aph wiped a tear from her eye, and Charon and Caelus shared a grin — joyous and bright, a mirror image of each other’s glee.
“Alright, my fair queen, come down from your pedestal so that we can shower you with gifts!” Aros joked, offering his hand to help me down.
It was absolute freedom, being able to touch a bare hand without fear of murdering a person. That thought, and the memory attached to it, sobered me up quickly. Nevertheless, I stood before them, waiting.
Charon spoke first. “I offer you a memory. One you’ve probably forgotten.” He glanced around, grinning mischievously at the Olympians, and I inherently knew this would be more of a gift to them than to me.
“You see, when Nyss was a little girl, no older than six, she went through a bit of a rebellious streak,” Charon began.
“Rebellious? Oh, this I have to hear,” Aros teased.
Charon nodded. “Oh yes. Hades was away, attending to the gates and sentencing souls and all that, when Nyssa decided she’d had just about enough of her lessons. She snuck away from the drawling history professor-turned-shade, who tended to drone on so much he frequently put himself to sleep.”
We all chuckled.
“Nyss waltzed down to the receiving rooms, where all of Hades’ most intimidating artworks were on display, and drew a moustache and matching devil horns on every single image of her father.”
The gods howled. I chuckled, indeed having no recollection of the incident in question.
“When Hades got back, he acted so furious that the palace emptied quicker than Atropos could cut your thread. Of course, it was all a ploy. He actually thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.
Left them up for months, chuckling every time he walked past and caught sight of himself.
I think they’re still here somewhere, in one of the hundred rooms.”
The mention of Hades left them torn between hilarity and fear. Hades was not someone you fucked with. I could see the gears turning in their minds, each wondering when the bogeyman would jump out at them.
“He’s not here right now,” I assured them.
Relief immediately relaxed their features. Giggling, I asked, “Okay, who’s next?”
Aros immediately leaned forward and cupped my face in his large, calloused hands. He yanked me in close and gave me the first kiss I’d ever received — not that he knew it.
His hot lips crashed against mine with a fervour I was too shocked to even consider reciprocating — or even decide if I wanted to. He pulled back slightly with a wink before releasing me.
“You’re welcome, darling,” the masochist purred.
I hadn’t even begun to unravel the emotional weight of my fiery first kiss — or how badly it lacked the heat I’d anticipated from the fire-wielding god — when I caught a glimpse of Caelus.
Murder was written all over his pretty face.
Static thrummed through the air as he glared at Aros, silver eyes flashing electric white. Aros smirked back, only goading him further. Their beasts mirrored the tension — posturing, growling, challenging.
There is way too much testosterone flying around in here. Someone is going to lose a dick any minute. And I have a feeling that would impact me much more than I’d like to think about right now.
Charon leaned back in his favourite chair, watching the whole exchange with rapt fascination — like it was his favourite concert and he was a second away from breaking out the popcorn.
Sitting up straighter, Aph — ever the peacekeeper — quickly diffused the rising tension with her voice, sharp and clear.
“I give you the truth,” she said to me, inhaling quickly, her aura thick with apprehension. “I’ll tell you what really happened the day we met. But we’re going to need more wine.”
Aros and Caelus eased back down, though their eyes still flickered warily toward one another.
Charon refilled our glasses, downing his own before filling it a second time. I shook my head, smiling softly, knowing that if Char was in the right mood, he could drink enough to down a minotaur.
I hoped he wasn’t in that kind of mood tonight. Not here, not among the present company. He was almost guaranteed to divulge more of my embarrassing secrets — somehow, miraculously sharing none of his own.
“You were so young, Nyss, when you found me that day,” Aphrodite began, reclaiming my attention.
“I was fourteen.”
“Yes. Far too young to feel what I was feeling. And yet, you knew.”
I nodded.
“You knew the pain of losing someone you loved. Knew what it meant to never see them again.”
My eyes flickered to Charon’s, recalling the day I came home raving like a lunatic about finding the goddess of love by the Styx.
Nobody had believed me. And so began our unintentionally secret friendship.
“I never told you why,” Aphrodite said, pausing. Her rosy lips trembled. “I was in love once. With a mortal named Adonis.”
Recognition flitted across Aros’ face.
“He was taken from me, brutally and savagely, before I could even utter the words to him. Can you imagine?” She scoffed. “The goddess of love, unable to offer her declaration of it to the one person who made her heart beat faster?”
Aros frowned.
“At the time, I was desired by another.” She twisted in her seat to look directly at Aros. “Your father. Ares. He was jealous that I did not reciprocate his feelings. That I had chosen an insignificant mortal instead of a god,” she spat humourlessly, her tone deepening to mimic his.
“Ares sent a wild boar after Adonis. It chased him. Hunted him. Relentlessly. And in the end, the boar struck true, gored Adi with its huge tusks. The same tusks, I hear, that are now mounted upon your walls.”
Aros’ eyes slowly widened in horror.
“I had no idea…”
“Because your father was embarrassed. He believed he had been slighted. And because you—you’ve spent as most of your time avoiding him,” she said knowingly, as a blush crept across Aros’ cheeks. Aphrodite turned back to me.
“You found me along the river that day because I had begged to receive an audience with Hades and was denied. The Ferryman would not grant me passage. So, I did all that I could for my lost love. I paid for Adi’s safe passage to the gates.
To this day, I have no idea where he was sentenced.
No idea if I will see him again when I die. ”
“I can locate his soul for you, Aph,” I offered.
She met my eyes, her own sparkling with a tentative kind of hope.
“Being a death-wielder occasionally comes with a few perks, too” I said with a soft laugh, a pitiful attempt at lightening the mood. “Come on. You can tell me all about him, if you’d like.”
Aphrodite nodded, grabbed the half-empty bottle of pomegranate wine and joined me by the window. And as the minutes passed, she told me the story of how a mortal had captured a goddess’s heart and how his death had shattered it.