34. In Which a Goddess, a Warrior, and a Sorceress Walk into a Throne Room
Chapter 34
In Which a Goddess, a Warrior, and a Sorceress Walk into a Throne Room
Modern-day Cephas in the Flatlands region of Olympus, Tellus Province
C amulos stormed through the guards standing outside Athena’s throne room. He was seething and there was only one person on which to unleash his fury. As one of her guards rushed towards him, he shoved him hard. Another stood on the edge of a golden rug trimmed in white that split her throne room in half. He braced himself as Camulos advanced, pointing his spear at the warrior. More guards came to the aid of the first, effectively keeping Camulos from entering.
“She’s the fucking Serathena?” he shouted, his voice booming in the empty room.
Athena rose from her throne at his insolent entrance. She narrowed her eyes, her body stiff, ready to defend herself.
“Come in, Camulos,” she drolled. “I don’t believe I invited you.”
Her tone was casual, as if they were merely talking about the weather, but Camulos knew better than to be lulled by her. He learned long ago not to piss off the Greek gods, but at this moment, he didn’t care. Let her send him to the Shadow Realm; he could finally live out his purgatory in peace. At a wave of her hand, the guards parted. Advancing forward, the thick runner dampened his thunderous steps as he approached her throne.
Athena’s throne room was as lavish as one would imagine. Being the favorite daughter meant opulence in every sense of the word. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling between each of the ivory columns that lined both sides of the room. Sunlight danced in the room’s corners as it streamed from floor-to-ceiling windows. Eight-foot-tall golden candelabras holding long white candles stood like soldiers next to the columns. Gemstones affixed to the top of the columns, encircling them, cast prisms of light onto the white marble floor below. In each alcove created by the massive columns were statues depicting many of Athena’s conquests. They sat atop polished, white marble stands as if looking down their noses at anyone who dared enter.
The gold runner ended before her throne. Copper-colored swallow-tailed banners hung from the ceiling surrounding the expansive platform that held her throne. Just behind, a depiction of Athena holding the head of Medusa ran from floor to ceiling in intricately designed stained glass. A gate of gilded iron forged by Hephaestus separated Athena from the rest of the room. Anyone who dared enter the gate uninvited would meet their demise. Athena stood before her wooden seat. Depictions of deer and owls in various positions stuck out all around her, framing her as Camulos approached. He stopped just short of the end of the runner. Keeping his temper in check was difficult now that he had seen what Ellie was capable of.
“She bleeds ichor, Athena! It wasn’t the book or her reading Greek. You suspected she was the Serathena. You sent Evander to kill her, knowing full well what would happen if she turned on him. She has powers,” he snapped accusingly.
Athena at least had the decency to look mildly regretful. She sat and crossed her ankles demurely. Her owl, famously always by her side, had perched beside the throne, blinking one eye and then another at Camulos.
“I was eliminating a threat,” she said. “I am the only one protecting Olympus. All humans with abilities need to be eliminated, you know the order well.” She examined her nails as she spoke. When her eyes met Camulos’ narrowed stare, she dared him to question her motives.
“You sent one of my men in without all the information, Athena.”
“He was armed appropriately, Camulos. I gave him an enchanted dagger to ensure she died without spilling her blood.” She flipped her wrist. “Did you get the book?”
“A Chthonian, Athena. You threatened my man, and when you didn’t get the desired result, you sent in a mercenary. To the human realm.”
She shrugged.
“You have crossed the line this time.”
“The book?” she snapped.
“Is that all you care about, Athena?”
“You’re wasting my time, Camulos. I need the book. If you haven’t acquired it, then I have no more use for you.” She flicked her fingers, effectively dismissing him.
The apathetic snub snapped the last of Camulos’ resolve. “This is your doing. You will be the one solely responsible for the destruction of all who live on Olympus. Her death will have consequences, and you will have the blood of both gods and humans on your hands when this is all over.”
Athena leapt from her throne and blasted him with a bolt of magic. Camulos retaliated, attacking her back. She grunted as his magic struck her stomach.
“Bitch,” he sneered at her, blasting her again. The anger he had been controlling rose, begging to be released.
“Enough!” a sharp voice cut through the room. Medusa marched up the platform, her gown flowing around her ankles. “Do the two of you want this war to start here and now?” She glared from Athena to Camulos.
Willing himself to stand still, his powers strained against his hold. Athena had the power to hurl him into darkness at her whim, but Medusa could make it so he ripped apart when he was tossed into the four corners of the cosmos.
She leveled her amber gaze at him, her full lips pulled into a tense line. Athena moved to speak, but Medusa flashed her eyes without so much as a twitch of her head, and Athena shut her mouth quickly.
“I believe it’s time to go, Camulos,” Medusa said smoothly, lacing her fingers before her. The ruby and gold bracelets she wore clanged together.
“You cannot protect her, Medusa. She has crossed a line this time.”
Raising her head, poised elegantly atop her long neck, Medusa arched an eyebrow in question. She was tall and slender, beautiful, the favored of the Gorgons. Her eyes, which now flashed angrily at the pair, were large and almond shaped. Above them lay two perfectly arched, black brows and, below her eyes, high cheekbones. Her hair was long and locked, held back by a gold band with golden snakes woven among the locs. Upon her head lay the laurel crown of the gods with a single snake intertwined amongst the leaves. She wore a dark-red kalasiris that went to the floor, typical of her homeland. A thick, wide, solid-gold necklace ran from one dark-brown shoulder to the other.
“I am protecting you both, Camulos.”
“Find my book,” Athena snapped.
Medusa shot her a look of contempt mixed with annoyance.
“She hid it, Athena.”
“Then find it. Kill her and find my possession,” Athena balled her fists at her sides.
“She’s dead. Your mercenary did his job,” he bit out. “She was dead when I arrived at the destructive scene your hired gun left. The human world will be talking. You have created a mess for us to clean up. The only silver lining in this is that your mercenary is dead.”
Athena gaped, shocked as he was to find out Ellie could kill something that powerful and brimming with umbramortis.
“A Chthonian is dead?”
“Yes,” he interrupted. “She had enough power to kill one of those creatures. And before you say anything else, you will not punish my man. My man carried out your orders, he is exonerated of any wrongdoing.”
“Your man did not complete his task, Camulos. He will be dealt with by the council.” She folded her arms.
As Camulos took a step forward, his power surging, Medusa stepped to the side, towards Athena. The look she shot him would have sent him running when he was younger, but the sorceress, with all her power and might, was reasonable. Where Athena threw temper tantrums and destroyed someone without explanation, Medusa was calm and calculating. She listened and considered her punishments before handing them out. She was cold, but unlike Athena, Medusa had a very long fuse.
“I need proof, Camulos,” Athena barked, and Medusa shot her an annoyed look. “I cannot trust you at your word. Not after the last time.”
“Here’s your damn proof,” he ground out, flicking his wrist. Something small and heavy flew towards Athena. It soared through the air, just missing her ear, and plunged into the wood with a metallic sound. The dagger embedded several inches up the blade, vibrating as it hit. “Look, on the blade. It’s her blood. The deed is done.”
He turned his ferocious gaze to Medusa. “You might remind Athena that if she continues down this path, she will cause the destruction of many. Olympus may regain its status, but at the cost of innocent lives.” He turned, and in two steps, left the room.
Slowly, Medusa turned to face Athena, waiting for answers. Athena just sighed and grabbed the dagger by the hilt, yanking it out. She studied it and flopped into her seat, setting the blade on one of the oversized arms.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Athena,” she challenged.
The goddess sighed again and looked up with a half-humbled expression. “Of course I do.”
“You sent one of your nymphs to kill her. Not just any, but Evander?”
“I suspected she was the Serathena,” she reminded Medusa. “If I kill her, she cannot kill us. The prophecy—”
“Damn the prophecy, Athena. This is madness. You believe she is the destroyer, but the muses claim she is the savior.”
Athena sliced her hand through the air. “What do the muses know? She was the destroyer.”
Medusa pressed her lips together. “And what of the Oracle of Delphi?”
“The oracle means nothing.”
“The oracle states that her blood seals the Titans and Aerelia in Tartarus. That the phoenix will rise, a queen who will sit again upon her throne. Her death will surely cause their release.”
“Rumors, Medusa, that is all. It’s superstition. Phoenix are myths, legends. The Serathena will be human, on that, I am sure. And now, one more human who was a threat is dead. Pandora might have been clever, but I am more so.”
“And if she was the savior?”
Athena looked up sheepishly. “She was a human. A human that had powers, nothing more. She is dead. The Titans and Aerelia cannot escape if her blood doesn’t run. Hecate enchanted the dagger I gave Evander. Look around. No rumbling, no screams. Her blood never touched the earth. I have thought of everything, Medusa. There isn’t a need to worry. They are locked up; we are safe, and now we can find the spell to reverse the curse and bring Olympus back to its rightful seat.”
“But what if she was the key, Athena? We do not know why Pandora created her or for what. A sorceress has her own secrets to keep, her own reasoning for the spells she casts. And now, if she is dead, we may never uncover the reason for her creation.” Medusa paced as she talked, a habit she had when working out a problem. She stopped halfway back across the platform. Tilting her head to the side, she turned towards Athena.
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not wrong, Medusa. She was nothing, and now she is gone.”