28. Caelus
Caelus
I was the last champion to leave the chamber — just as I’d intended. I sought secrecy and silence to complete my part in this trial, knowing instantly what my choice would be.
The Fates remained plastered against the wall, imposing and judging. I wondered what they would make of what I was about to do — if they already knew.
Are you sure you want to do this, godling? Lykos rumbled in my mind.
As sure as I’ve ever been about anything, I replied. His presence retreated to a dark corner of my mind.
As Nyssa rushed from the chamber, I smiled. A sense of rightness settled over me.
I wandered forward, fingers brushing silent strings until one made a sound. A warm hum rang out. A sickly-sweet sound that reminded me of a sticky, caramel-filled pocket. I laughed softly to myself, remembering that day in the woods.
Gripping the golden strand with my left hand, I slashed upwards sharply with my right, cutting the note in two.
Before it could disintegrate, I reached up and pulled down the thread I had marked as Nyssa’s. Our strings were already so close together, running parallel as if Fate had always intended it.
The three sisters gasped, but none of them moved to stop me as I determinedly wove my severed thread into her unbroken one. My fingers worked quickly, instinctively, as I quite literally tied my fate to hers.
When I was done, I plucked the now-bound strings, curious to hear how they sounded together.
A harmonious duality shattered the silence — two notes weaving around each other like they were always supposed to be played that way.
A breath caught in my throat, emotion clogging it.
My lower lip quivered in response. I took comfort in the fact that whatever came next, I would face it alongside her.
Together.
“Do you know what you have done, boy?” the sisters whispered.
“I do.”
“Then you understand that your fate has become hers. Your life is now tied to the child of death, until her thread is severed.”
I nodded once.
“Interesting,” they mused. “We did not foresee this. You were supposed to sever your thread and leave it at that. You were supposed to die this very year.”
“In this very Rite,” Atropos snarled.
My breathing faltered, icy dread raced through my system.
“And now?”
I had to ask. I had to know.
“Now, we cannot see you. Only her.”
“What happens to her?” I demanded. I would reweave Fate’s tapestry again and again with my own two hands if it meant keeping her safe.
“We cannot say,” they whispered. “But you both still have roles to play.”
The feeling of dread grew. I knew not what awaited us, but took comfort in the fact that, even if I could — even if they’d offered it — my decision would remain the same.
We were bound for as long as Nyssa’s thread remained woven. Until Atropos’ shears snicked shut on her thread too.
I could only hope she’d forgive me someday.
I paused exactly one level above whatever hidden chamber the sisters had dragged us down into. A grin tugged at my lips as I recognised the hallway — my father had brought me here a few times over the years. The sheer coincidence was too perfect. It had to be another twist of fate.
“Took you long enough,” Athena drawled from where she leaned against the wall, arms crossed, half-hidden in the shadows. “So, what’d you decide to do with your thread?”
“That’s none of your concern,” I said with a grin, unable to help myself. “Are you ready?”
“Absolutely.” She straightened. “Let’s go.”
Instead of continuing up the spiral staircase as the other champions had presumably done, Athena and I veered left, down a long, damp corridor dimly lit by flickering torches. At the end, the hallway dropped into a second stairwell.
Below, a large space opened up, roughly the size of the training arena. It spanned three storeys high and housed exactly seventy-two jail cells. Few were occupied, none currently monitored. A lone guard slept at his post.
That suited us just fine.
“She could be in any of the cells, but my best guess would be level one,” I whispered. “There’s no way my mother would trek three storeys up and back for her entertainment . She will absolutely escort Nike herself.”
“So she can get one last snipe in before killing an innocent woman?” Athena sneered.
“Precisely. Whether she knows that or not.”
Athena shot me a disbelieving look, before sneaking along the walls, examining every cell along the way. I knew the moment she found the cell containing Nike. Athena’s half-stifled sob stirred the guard in his sleep, but the fool resumed snoring seconds later.
The scent hit me before I reached the cell.
Ichor.
The cell was both old and damp, but the smell was coming from the goddess herself.
Nike was covered in cuts, so precise they could only have been made purposefully, by a sharp blade.
Her left eye was swollen shut; every inch of visible skin coated in dark bruises.
Her golden hair lay plastered to her scalp, matted with blood, and her once-white wings were now stained with ichor and the grime of her cell.
Feathers were scattered all over the floor — one hung at an unnatural angle, mangled and limp.
But Nike’s remaining eye was locked on Athena, steady and resolute.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the battered goddess murmured.
“Neither should you,” Athena replied, grimacing.
“Good news — none of us will be here for much longer,” I chimed in. “Athena, I’m going to need your help for a moment.”
“Name it.”
“Take care of the guard for me. Make it look like an accident.”
“Gladly,” the goddess of warfare answered, her voice lethally soft.
While Athena handled part one of our problem, I approached the cell door to handle part two.
“Step back,” I warned Nike, placing my palm atop the locking mechanism. Big bursts of power came easily — second nature. Smaller, more concentrated ones? A little trickier.
I concentrated hard on my hand, sending a small but powerful zap of lightning right through the lock. It sizzled, melted, and clicked open. Athena rushed in, choking back tears.
The goddesses embraced, and I gave them a full ten seconds before urging them out the door.
“We need to go. They’ll be here soon,” I warned. “Can you walk?”
Nike nodded once. “I’ll manage.”
And she did, until we reached the staircase. She faltered on the first step, just as the faint clanging of shoes echoed down from above.
Fuck.
“Sorry about this,” I muttered, scooping Nike into my arms and avoiding her damaged wing. I bolted up the stairs, Athena close behind.
“Run,” I urged her. “Hide behind the staircase.”
Athena sprinted ahead, ducking into the shadows, her face twisted in horror. Sandal-clad feet appeared in my line of sight.
We aren’t going to make it.
Thankfully, the guards escorting my mother were in no hurry, even as she chided them for it. Nike and I lurched into the darkness beside Athena just as the guards stepped down into the hallway. They passed us without a glance.
My mother, on the other hand, dropped daintily off the final step in her golden ballgown — then stopped cold.
I held my breath, silently imploring Athena and Nike to do the same. Hera sniffed the air, her head swivelling dangerously to the right. Just as her gaze risked finding us, a shout rattled up from the main chamber.
“Oi! Wake up, you lazy swine!” one guard yelled.
“He’s not asleep — he’s dead!” the other shot back.
I raised a brow at Athena just as my mother raced forward, propriety be damned. The moment her champagne-coloured head disappeared, we darted up the staircase and back into the hallway where we first started.
I didn’t dare breathe until I heard Hera’s furious scream.
“We need to keep going,” I urged. We had a short window of time to flee, just enough to get clear of the mountain before she finished tearing through the cells.
Athena led the way up six more flights of stairs and into the crisp mountain air.
It was well past midnight. Aetherion glistened softly before us, the Parthenon holding vigil to our left.
An idea struck me — the gateway.
But I didn’t get a chance to voice it. The goddess of wisdom was already bolting in that very direction, beckoning us over urgently.
I didn’t release Nike until we were safely inside the atrium, standing before the marble arch. Athena pressed her palm to the pillar, revealing a dark room through the portal, mere feet away.
“Thank you, Caelus. I owe you a great debt,” the goddess said softly.
“No, you don’t. I can’t even begin to apologise for what my mother has done?—”
“Yes. Your mother — not you, child. Her misdeeds are not yours to claim or repay. And I will be claiming justice for Nike?—”
“Or I’ll do it myself,” the goddess interjected.
“Go. Before they catch you. Stay safe, Nike. Stay hidden,” I warned.
The pair wasted no time, disappearing into the portal. I hoped it would be the last time I saw Nike, at least for the foreseeable future — at least until the real killer had been captured.
Closing my eyes, I pressed my palm to the cold stone and thought of home.
When I opened them, my body jerked back a step, because through the archway I had a clear view of a captivatingly beautiful, stunningly naked woman in a bathtub. Her long ebony locks hung over its rim. She had eyes only for the small purple dragon coiled up on the edge beside her.
I watched for too long, long enough to see her drift off to sleep in that tub. Still, I watched — rooted in place — my cock pitching a tent beneath my linen chiton.
I knew I shouldn’t — but I also knew she could neither see, nor hear me. I slid my right hand beneath the flowing fabric, breath catching as I stroked the warm, soft skin of my shaft.
I imagined kissing the tattooed skin at her collarbone; imagined sucking the warm, tender skin of her breast into my mouth. I fantasised about licking the wet slit between her thighs and tasting her pleasure on my tongue.
I came hard with a guttural roar, just as the goddess clutched her chest, eyes darting wildly. My release spilled all over the marble tiles.
Her name was on my lips. Her phantom taste lingered on my tongue.
Once again, I touched the pillar. This time my bedchamber appeared in the gateway, and I fled the scene of the crime. I threw myself roughly onto the bed, my body still alight with hunger for the woman I could never have. And then I began pumping anew.
It was absolutely going to be a long night.