Chapter 2
PHAEDRA
Dirt coats my skin and the rumpled clothes I’m wearing.
Shoulders slumped, I sit under the shade of an olive tree and sip my water.
Athens was a bust. For almost two weeks, I searched the ruins, hoping to find something that would lead me to the next panel, but not a single Hephaestus symbol shone for me.
I’ve been in Delphi for two days and nothing yet.
I take another drink. Studying archaeology sites, immersing myself in the past, used to be my favorite thing to do, but that was before…
them. Now, all I can think about was Hawthorne’s granite jaw locked against the fire and Mathias’ keen eyesight guiding the path of the arrow.
The thought of them drives me to my feet.
Stop moping. I pick up my pack and shove the canteen back into its depths, then stride over to the ruins.
The merciless sun bears down on me, and Mathias’ curt voice ordering me to pull my hat up pops into my head.
With a heavy sigh, I slip it on and start working the next section of the ruin.
Hours go by, and the sun descends to the horizon.
Carefully marking the section, I stand up and stretch, causing the knots and muscles in my lower back to loudly protest. I press my thumbs into each dimple, trying to ease the tightness, but it does little to help.
No matter. The light is fading. Time to leave.
A few minutes later, the Range Rover is packed up and I’m heading to the house I rented.
Cool air envelopes me the second I walk in.
Thick, white stucco walls have kept the house cool despite the heat of the day, and the fresh air dries the sweat on my skin.
Relieved, I drop off my pack and head straight to the bathroom where I take a super quick, scalding shower.
Another thing I can barely tolerate. If I stay in the shower too long, phantom hands and memories begin to surface, along with Hawthorne’s serious green eyes.
I jump out and dry off, then pad into the kitchen to fix some dinner.
I open the fridge and stare at the contents, trying to muster up the will to cook something, but it’s no use.
With a sigh, I shut the door and grab a granola bar from the box on the counter. This will do, I think as I take a bite.
Based on my calculations, it will take me three more days to complete my search here.
My gut says this ruin isn’t the one, but I refuse to move on until I confirm.
It’s not like the extra days will matter.
All I have is time. Might as well put it to good use.
I shove the last bite of granola into my mouth and wash it down with a glass of water.
Fatigue weighs on me, and although I won’t sleep much, I force myself to lie down.
The tension in my shoulders and back eases as the comfortable bed cushions my sore body.
Are they looking at the same stars? I can’t help but wonder where they are and what they’re doing.
A tear trickles down my temple and hits the pillow.
I shift my head to stare at the stars glittering in the night sky, counting each one over and over until sleep claims me.
A couple of hours later, I watch streaks of pink and orange fill the sky. After a long stretch, I get up and repeat the previous day all over again.
Greece was full of nothing but dirt and regrets.
The Range Rover bounces over the ruts in the road, and my hands clench tighter on the wheel.
Italy is my last hope. If I don’t find Athena’s panel here, I don’t know where else to look.
I slam my palm against the steering wheel.
Why can’t the gods just give me a damn map with a circle on it?
They’ve known me for centuries. Does a quest prove I’m worthy? Doubtful. So, why the games?
The GPS updates. I’m close. Paestum, originally known as Poseidonia, was a Greek colony eons ago, and today, it houses some of the best surviving examples of Greek architecture in the world.
The city’s defensive walls, which are still standing in some places, are the first to come into view. I park the vehicle and step out.
Gathering my gear, I enter the archaeological park, see the first site, and inhale sharply. The Temple of Hera II is stunning. Towering over the ruins around it, the golden-colored travertine gleams in the morning sun.
My eyes drift to the one next to it, The Temple of Hera I, and the rich patina of stones softened by time.
One of the oldest in Italy and the only temple here that includes a naos, or central room.
In all my travels, I never made it here, but if I’d known it was this incredible, I would have come long ago.
I linger, staring at the two. There’s no way I’ll be able to leave without walking through these magnificent structures.
They remind me of home, the one that existed thousands of years ago.
With a sigh, I force myself to continue on.
I’ll come back and explore later, I promise myself.
The ancient city lies in ruins around it.
Occupied by both the Greeks and Romans, there’s a mix of both societies in these ruins.
Foundations of old buildings and the remnants of an amphitheater are clearly visible.
Striding past it all, I head toward the other side of the ancient city.
On the right, a modern museum comes into view, but I ignore it and keep walking.
Given the breadth of the ancient city, it’s usually under excavation by various archaeologists, so it didn’t take much to get a pass.
In fact, there’s a small group here now.
Although they’re concentrating on the ruins still buried and waiting to be discovered, not the ones already uncovered, which leaves me plenty of space to work without fear I’ll be bombarded with questions.
I tip my hat and flash my badge at one of them, and they dip their head.
Roughly a half mile from Hera’s temples, I reach Athena’s.
Built around 500 B.C.E. it’s in remarkable condition.
Although smaller than Hera’s two, it stands slightly elevated on a hill overlooking the city, lending it a prominence that its size might lack.
I walk around the structure, noting the different styles and features.
A couple of early morning tourists snap pictures nearby, but I ignore them and start partitioning off individual sections.
It’s the fastest way I’ve found to search the sites in an organized manner without missing anything.
For the rest of the day, I photograph and map both the interior and exterior, then come up with a plan that makes the most sense.
By the end of the day, my skin is pink, and my shoulders ache from bending over and pounding in stakes.
With quick efficiency, I pack everything up and note my starting spot for the morning.
As I head through the city to my vehicle, a shiver runs down my spine.
I pause and scan the area around me. I don’t see anyone close by, but the feeling of being watched persists the entire way back to my vehicle.
Thankful for the partly cloudy day, I make significant progress the next day.
By noon, I’ve completed two sections and discovered three of Hephaestus’ symbols, matching the dimensions of my hand.
Hopeful, I continue into the afternoon, but as the sun drops in the sky, my efforts yield little results.
Standing in the shade, I stare at the temple, contemplating the best starting point for tomorrow.
My stomach growls, reminding me I forgot to eat the granola bar I brought for lunch.
It’s early, but at this point, I might as well get dinner.
Packing up everything, I walk down the hill toward my vehicle.
As I pass by The Temple of Hera I, my gaze travels over the old stone, marveling at the engineering ingenuity of the people from my time.
They created many of these magnificent structures, and the fact that quite a few are still standing twenty-five hundred years later is truly astounding.
I shift my gaze to Hera’s second temple and stop walking.
There’s a small glow coming from the interior.
I frown. Tourists aren’t allowed inside.
I look around the ruins for one of the archaeological groups, but everyone seems to have left for the day.
Maybe one of them left a flashlight or lantern.
My stomach grumbles again, but I can’t leave without checking it out.
Sighing, I slip past the metal fence surrounding the temple and climb the steps.
The glow seems to be coming from farther in the interior.
A rope blocks the entrance to the main area.
I climb over it and make my way to the middle.
Within the naos, or center, I see two recesses that look like they might have been staircases to the roof.
Interesting. I’m tempted to check them out, but the glow is just ahead between two interior rows of columns.
A shiver runs down my spine. Hurrying to the center, I look down and see the glow isn’t a flashlight. It’s the same symbol that’s on my palm. Hephaestus’ anvil and hammer.
Damn. I bite my lip. Seeing this symbol in Hera’s temple isn’t that odd.
After all, Hephaestus is her son, even if she did cast him out of Olympus.
But to see the tiny symbol that matches the exact dimensions of the brand on my hand is odd.
Add in the fact that she wasn’t represented on the first panel…
and unease fills me. The gods are notorious for their spiteful games against each other.
Unfortunately, it’s a race against the clock, and I need to find the next panel.
Trembling, I hold my hand over the symbol.
A light immediately flows from my palm to the floor.
The second the light touches it, the stone slides, revealing an opening.
Blue and gold gleam inside the dark space.
It’s a panel. Relief mingles with the fear skating down my spine.
I drop to my knees and search the edges of the hole for any signs of a trap, but I see nothing. No spikes. Or curses. Nothing but the rough edge of the stone. I slowly reach in and grab the panel.
Footsteps sound behind me, and I swivel around, clutching the panel to my chest. When I see who it is, my stomach drops, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.
No point in standing or trying to run. I remain on my knees, bowing to the imposing figure in front of me as I silently curse a blue streak.
I knew it was a fucking trap. She must have seen the symbol in Athena’s temple and recreated it here.
Queen of the Greek Gods. Hera. Zeus’ wife and the goddess who voted to send me to Hades stands before me.
Tall, with dark curly hair, there’s a look of satisfaction in her cunning brown eyes and a wicked smile on her full lips.
Unlike Athena or Aphrodite, Hera isn’t blindingly beautiful, but she’s terrifying and commanding, with an edge of cruelty that serves her well.
The question is…what does she want? The urge to scream clogs my throat, choking the very air I’m breathing, but I use every one of my trembling muscles to lock down my rage. Hera’s slightly unhinged and known to be vengeful. The worst thing I could do is explode.
Silence. The air fills with it, pressing against me until I feel like I’m bearing the entire weight of it on my shoulders.
Sweat beads and runs from my brow to the collar of my shirt.
Pain radiates across my body from holding the position I know she wants.
Minutes pass. Is she going to let me up or just smite me a couple of times?
“It’s been eons since someone worshipped me,” she purrs, her voice full of amusement and a slight tinge of some darker underlying emotion. “Or had the courage to steal from me.”
I knew it. Not knowing what to say, I remain silent.
She holds out one elegant hand. “Give it to me.”
I hold it out to her. As she grasps it, I get a glimpse of the panel.
It’s the fourth side, although the image on it is a golden blur.
Damn it. I need that panel. The enemy has two panels—the top and one side.
I have two sides and the key. We’re almost equal right now.
This would have gained me the advantage.
Holding my breath, I wait as she studies it, unsure of what she’s going to say or do.
“I see,” she finally states in a quiet voice. “It doesn’t matter. Everything in this temple is mine, including this panel. Do you have anything to say before I sentence you?”
“I was wondering where my panel had gone,” another voice says, her firm voice echoing off the stones around me. “How…kind of you to find it for me.”
Hera’s eyebrow rises as she turns to face the deepening shadows. “Athena. How lovely of you to join us. Care to explain?”
Athena strides into view. Tall and stately with rich brown hair flowing down her back and over her golden armor, she flicks assessing grey eyes toward me, then turns toward Hera. “It’s the same plan we proposed to the Twelve Olympians. Remember? The one you and Zeus rejected.”
Fascinated by this turn of events, I silently watch the two fierce women lock eyes.
“If we rejected it, care to tell me who decided to move forward?” Hera asks Athena, a cutting edge to her voice.
“Stalemate,” Athena answers calmly with a lift of her shoulder. “Six for. Six against. Rules state we can proceed.” Her tone isn’t smug, but there’s a hint of satisfaction in her voice.
Hera lifts her chin as she contemplates the goddess in front of her. “Very well, but the fact remains she stole the panel from me. There is a price to pay.”
“She is on the path we set for her. I ask leniency from you.”
Hera rolls her eyes, then dips her chin. “Very well.” Her gaze drops to me, and her lips curve in a smile that frankly scares the crap out of me. “It feels good to be seen again. Worshipped by a true believer.”
How could I not believe? I’ve seen their terrifying wrath up close.
With a flick of her wrist, the panel disappears. “Five temples. Five gifts. Five prayers. The panel will be awarded to you when you have completed the task.” She gives a sly wink. “Make sure you express your gratitude for my leniency.”
There’s a warning in her voice that makes me swallow hard.
With those final words, she strides over to Athena and slips her arm through hers. “I haven’t been so entertained in centuries. Let’s find a comfortable place to watch.”
Not once does Athena look my way as the two disappear.