47. In Which a Team is Established
Chapter 47
In Which a Team is Established
T he wooden floors creaked as she walked the corridor to the great room. Maximus’ house was divided into two wings, east and west. Both wings met in the middle, with the great room, large dining hall, and training rooms making up the conversion of the two sides. After this morning’s embarrassing run-in with Liam, she sought Callassa out and explored Max’s mansion, a better alternative to sitting in her room and reviewing Evander’s dire position.
Thankfully, Syren didn’t tease her or ask her questions. She seemed jumpy, if Ellie was honest, and lost in her thoughts. So, she made a mental note to ask her about it later.
They had wandered into a gallery in the east wing. Giant pictures of various depictions of wars—some Ellie recognized; most were foreign to her—hung on the walls. Sculptures of the gods and goddesses lined the middle, creating a walkway. On one side was a golden throne, from where she wasn’t sure, and on the other was a twelve-foot-tall statue of Maximus. His wings were spread wide, his handsome, Roman nose expertly carved, his ears pointed. He held a sword aloft in his left hand and a shield in his right. The shield had a carving different from the one he used in training. The wooden shields that lined the training room walls had various depictions of Medusa’s head, indicative of Athena. But in Max’s gallery, his shield depicted the nine muses. A little odd, given the company was a creation of Athena. They spent most of the day in the gallery and had agreed to meet in the great room before the evening meal.
Ellie rounded a corner when she saw Evander coming from the gardens leading to the training field. She smiled and, for reasons she wasn’t sure of, waved. He greeted her with a bright smile illuminating his face. Making the dimple in his cheek show at least once daily was a challenge she took seriously. She’d miss that smile when she returned to her home. She shook her head to rid of thoughts of leaving as they met in the middle in front of an archway to the great room.
“Evening.”
“You’re wearing the dress,” he said, wiping his face with a rag he looped into the belt at his waist. “Does it fit?”
Looking down, she smoothed her hand over the dark fabric. It fit her like a glove, so well that she didn’t feel any restrictions. Tonight, she had left off the protective armor and opted for the leather belt, similar to what the men wore. She had found a leather pouch in the trunk in her room and tied it to the belt. Typically, this type of pouch would be more appropriate on one of the chitons left for her to wear in the same trunk. But she liked it with her battle dress, as she was now lovingly calling it.
“It fits so well, I’m almost concerned Maximus measured me in my sleep.” She twisted her lips.
Evander laughed. “I’m not entirely sure he didn’t.”
They entered the great room together, stepping down stone steps as the room opened before them. Directly across from the arched entrance was a fireplace Ellie was sure could house a family comfortably. Its mantle stood above her; its width was more expansive than her outstretched arms. The oddly shaped couches, custom-made for the oddly shaped inhabitants, were worn dark-brown leather, soft and down-filled. To one side, up three steps, was a makeshift study. A large wooden table without chairs sat close to an entire wall of leather-bound books. This room didn’t have a ladder, which was an oversight in Ellie’s opinion. High above them, centuries-old wooden beams, which seemed to be in every common room in the home, ran the room’s width. Two iron-and-wood chandeliers, smaller than the one in the dining hall, hung, illuminating the room.
Camulos was standing at the table, maps and papers spread out before him. He was mumbling to himself or Maximus, she wasn’t sure. When Ellie and Evander entered, Maximus was gathering something from a cabinet on the far end. Upon seeing her, he turned to greet them, and his lips curled into a hint of a smile. Camulos looked up from his maps and nodded.
“I see it fits,” Camulos said, but she ignored him. Making a beeline straight for Maximus, she stopped directly in front. He was holding a wooden box encrusted with jewels on top in his hands. He looked a little startled and straightened his spine. Ellie smiled widely and reached up, grabbing the edge of his tunic. Stiffly, he allowed her to pull him down while she rose on her tiptoes. She kissed his cheek, to which he blinked and looked at Camulos strangely.
“Thank you,” she said, beaming at him. “It was very thoughtful.”
Maximus cleared his throat and straightened.
“The men and I decided,” he grumbled, but Ellie shook her head.
“I know it was your original idea. Thank you.” Maximus nodded, and a faint pink color bloomed on his cheeks. “You are a softy,” she said and, without warning, wrapped her arms around his waist.
Max grunted and raised his arms, both hands clutching the wooden box. He stiffened as she squeezed and looked helplessly around the room.
“Um, yes, well, you’re welcome,” he stammered as she looked up at him.
“Oh, does hugging make the great Maximus uncomfortable?” she teased. His eyes were wide as they looked down at her. Shifting his gaze to Camulos, he was offered nothing in the way of support, save a chuckle. Ellie squeezed once more and let go. “You didn’t have to, Max, but I’m so thankful you did.”
Liam and Syren entered just as Ellie let go.
“Are we hugging Max?” Liam called from the steps as he walked down into the room. “I wanna get in on that action.”
“Don’t you dare,” Max warned from his corner. The wooden box was still aloft as if he had forgotten how to move after Ellie hugged him. As she passed by Camulos, she stopped, leaned down, and kissed his cheek. Cam patted her hand. She came round the banister to the steps that lead down into the sitting portion of the room.
Liam opened his arms wide. “Me next!” he said as Ellie looped her arms over his shoulders. He squeezed and picked her up, wiggling her back and forth. Ellie laughed as he did. Syren was standing close to the pair, chuckling, when Liam let go of Ellie and swept her into a group hug. He bounced with both women, laughing and carrying on. “What are we celebrating?”
Ellie released Liam and sat on the couch.
“I was just saying thank you for the gifts this morning. It was lovely of y’all.”
She beamed at Liam, who had reached for Syren. She circled his chair, and Ellie watched as he kissed her palm just as she perched herself on the arm of the deep-green chair. A pang of jealousy shot through her. They were allowed to be as they were, allowed to touch and kiss. She and Evander had resolved themselves to a friendship Ellie knew was a ruse at best. Trying not to dwell on that, she sat back and tucked one foot under her.
“Ahh, yes, well. We all thought yoga pants were appropriate, but Maximus is properly scared of you now, so a dress it is,” Liam teased.
She rolled her eyes.
“And you, Syren? How did your armor fit?” Camulos jutted his chin in question.
Syren nodded once. “Well, thank you.”
“Oh, Ellie, dear, may I have Pandora’s book?” Camulos called from behind her. “I want to study something I read about this morning.”
She waved her hand, and the book made a thud as it landed on the table.
“I still don’t understand how you can do that,” Syren said as Camulos eagerly thumbed through the worn pages.
“I don’t either, but I’ve always been able to.”
“Make things appear?”
She nodded. “Yep. And disappear.”
Maximus, who had recovered from her spontaneous hugging, was hunched over the book alongside Camulos. “That reminds me. I thought it was time we got both of you out in the yard.”
“Me?”
“Why?”
Syren and Ellie spoke at the same time. They shot each other a quizzical look. Maximus sighed.
“Because, if you remember, we have collectively committed treason. Hiding you is one thing, but if Athena figures it out, you will need to defend yourself. Both of you. Not to mention the Chthonian. Thanatos will not be pleased, and he will send more to right the wrong.”
“But Camulos said . . .”
“Camulos may be correct, but what if he isn’t?” Maximus shook his head. “It’s better to be prepared.”
“Why me?” Syren glanced at Ellie before crossing her arms.
“Because our world is dangerous, Syren. You might be just a simple human, but knowing how to defend yourself will be useful.”
They shared a look, and Syren bristled.
“We will meet tomorrow morning early, before breakfast, to begin,” he said and jerked his head. The matter settled.
Evander came over and sat in the other oversized chair that faced Liam.
Liam launched into a humorous story from the day’s training. He was an avid storyteller, animated and lively. Ellie was enthralled as he waved his arms, one in front, the other from behind Syren’s back. Chuckles from all sides, above and around her, sounded in the room. Different depths, different richness, but all indicative of the four men she had grown so fond of in such a short time.
“So, I have to ask,” she interjected. “Y’all must have been friends for a while.”
Liam chuckled. “Try centuries.”
Ellie knew she was gaping at him, but she couldn’t help it. She glanced from Liam to Evander and then to the platform where Camulos and Maximus stood.
“Centuries?” she gasped.
Syren looked taken back at her apparent ignorance.
“Of course, love. How old did you think we were?”
Ellie felt stupid as she answered. “When I first met you, I thought late twenties? Maybe Camulos was in his forties.”
The boisterous laughter of Liam and Evander filled the room.
“How did you come to that conclusion?” Maximus called from above her.
She shrugged sheepishly. “Y’all look so young.”
“Immortal, Ellie,” Liam said, merriment sparkling in his eyes. He pointed his thumb at Evander. “We’ve known each other for two centuries, but technically speaking, Evander is the baby. And the biggest pain in the arse.”
“Here! Here!” Camulos called.
She turned to look at Evander, really look at him. How could she not have known? It defied logic, and yet, she never questioned it. She knew he was older than he looked, but she hadn’t realized how much.
“So, when I said I was too old for you—” Her cheeks reddened.
Evander chuckled. “It took quite a bit not to laugh at that.”
“So, how old are y’all?” she asked, bewildered.
“Well,” Liam said, wiping peach juice off his chin from the fruit he made appear. “Evander is a little over two hundred.” He pointed to himself with a juicy thumb. “I am round about five hundred. Still young and spry.”
He nodded towards the two on the platform, poring over Pandora’s grimoire. “Those two blokes are pushing thousands.”
Maximus flicked his fingers from under his chin at Liam, a crude gesture. “Mind yourself. I’m not as old as Cam.”
Ellie wrinkled her nose and gaped at them. The truth of their ages felt unreal.
“Damn, Cam. You’re ancient,” Liam teased.
Camulos looked up, insulted. “Hey! No need for name-calling.”
“So, y’all live here, then? Apparently, for centuries?” she asked, effectively changing the subject.
“Yes and no,” Evander said. “We each have a house of our own. But—”
“But they like my company and magnetic personality,” Maximus chimed in. Camulos shook his head.
“Sure, Max,” Evander chided, to which the warrior wrinkled his forehead.
“And the magic? Each of you have magic? Or only certain ones?”
Camulos shared a look with Max, who shrugged. “We all have abilities, some given to us when we became warriors, others were enhanced. Maximus can open portals to anywhere, any realm.”
“I can make any item I wish appear,” Liam said as a sweet roll plopped into his hand. “I have other abilities, but that is my favorite.” He tore off a hunk of roll, glaze slipping down his thumb, and fed it to Syren.
“Evander shares your ability to wield gaia,” Camulos added with a nod.
Ellie swung to face him. “You can? But you’ve never mentioned it.”
Evander ruffled his hair and then his wings. Rasing a hand, he flicked his fingers. Snowflakes shot into the air, floating around them on unseen currents.
“I was focused on you, Ellie. I have had to learn to control myself. Gaia is powerful as you know.”
A sly smile crawled across his lips as she struggled to understand. She felt as though she were underwater. Camulos rattled off their other abilities, but all Ellie could focus on was Evander. Holding out her hand, a snowflake fell into her upturned palm. Bringing it closer for inspection, she gasped and snapped her eyes up to find Evander watching her. He smiled a lopsided grin, showing his dimple. In the center of the intricately designed snowflake was a pair of wings meticulously formed.
“Is it just snow?” she asked quietly, interrupting Camulos.
“No, I can produce ice, affect temperature—”
“Make snowmen,” Liam piped up.
She was destruction, wind and lightning, a raging fire if she lost control and he was the calm, lightly falling snow, the one who could soothe her.
“Camulos can manipulate things like feelings and time. He can see the future,” Liam said, cutting into Ellie’s reverie. “But the bloke keeps the damn answers to himself. He has other powers he keeps hidden, but that one is the most irritating.”
She turned her attention to the eldest member. “Interesting. He’s quite odd.”
Cam frowned. “I’m not odd. At least not here.”
“So, where is here?” Ellie addressed the question to no one in particular. “Where exactly are we?”
“Come here, dear,” Camulos called. She joined him as he unrolled a sizable hand-drawn map and placed it on the wide table. “This is a map of òlumpos Aftokretoría, or Olympus as you humans call it. We are here, in the hills of Asteria in the Cosmis Province.” He pointed to a spot at the far west side of the map and then to the very north, “Zeus lives here in the Golden Estate. Olympus is divided into four provinces: The Tellus Province, The Phorcys Province, The Aether Province, ours, and of course, the Underworld, which isn’t a province but a separate kingdom. It incorporates Tartarus and the Shadow Realm.”
She nodded as she gazed over the map.
“Each province has gods and goddesses who take on the ruling, but Zeus ultimately has the final say.”
“Who rules over this province?”
Camulos frowned thoughtfully. “Apollo and Artemis mainly, but Helios has his say in some matters. There are others, but those are the main ones.”
“Not Athena?”
“Oh no,” Maximus said from the couch where he sat when she vacated her spot. “Our company is smaller, and I prefer the Cosmis to Tellus. The goddess Artemis might be temperamental, but she has fewer rules than Athena. No. Athena rules the Tellus Province.” He shrugged. “Although Apollo is a drama queen, he keeps to himself. There are more creatures here, and we mostly stay to our kind.”
Ellie tapped a finger to her lips. “So, you prefer to run into a centaur at the supermarket than a goddess.”
“Something like that.” Max nodded. “In this realm, those who are not gods live in relative peace without getting in each other’s way. We transform to human freely with no judgments in this province. Other provinces are more rigid.”
“What sort of creatures?”
Camulos shrugged beside her. “Centaurs, nymphs, pegasi, and you saw pixies. There’s us, of course, and other companies, some further into the mountains. Over here are the islands. Aeaea, where Circe lives.” He pointed to an island on the far left of the map, away from any other islands and, by the look of it, quite a distance offshore.
“This is Anthemoessa, where the sirens live.”
She caught Syren jerking her head in their direction from the corner of her eye.
“Sirens? Like mermaids?”
“Not like mermaids at all,” Syren answered, her lips pursed, and her back was straight. “Siren have wings like birds.”
“She’s right,” Camulos said, nodding at her. Syren’s face pulled tight and darkened. “How did you know that?”
She shrugged one shoulder as she tucked her balled fists into her lap. “I read it somewhere.”
Unaware of her stiff response, Camulos nodded. “Sirens have wings like us, made of feathers, but they are their own species. They keep to themselves mostly and don’t mingle amongst us here on the mainland. They are ruled by a ruthless queen that clips the males’ wings so that only females can fly.”
“That is incorrect.” Her voice was low, dangerous. Syren looked at Camulos in such a way, challenging him. Ellie shivered at the icy glare. “Demeter cursed the sirens when Persephone went missing. The men’s wings are clipped as a punishment by Demeter, not by their queen. In fact, I don’t believe her to be ruthless at all.”
“She imprisons her people, Syren,” Camulos said, knitting his eyebrows together. “They do anything and everything the gods ask to win their favor. It’s inhuman. Some tasks are degrading and dishonorable, but their royalty and Congress forces the sirens. Their queen is sadistic.”
“The goddess, Zaphine, rules them and has a hold over them, Camulos. She is the one who forces the siren to do the god’s bidding.”
“And you know this, how?”
All eyes were on Syren, but unlike Ellie in situations of confrontation, she didn’t back down.
“I—I must have told her,” Liam spoke up. He grabbed Syren’s hand and squeezed, as she gave him a surprised glance. They shared a look, and Ellie had the distinct suspicion Liam was lying. But about what?
“You? You.” Camulos’ jaw clenched, and his features hardened. The two warriors shared a fierce look as Liam nodded once. Something passed between them, understanding or something like it, because Camulos nodded as well.
“The goddess of hatred and cruelty governs the sirens, Camulos. She allows the gods to use the sirens for their bidding. I’m certain the queen had valid justifications for anything she had to do under that type of rule. Maybe the siren people didn’t have a choice. No voice of their own. Maybe Demeter unfairly accused them of a crime and Zaphine was their punishment. What you find sadistic and ruthless, maybe the queen feels necessary. Maybe she takes the brunt of whatever disgusting, vile needs the gods have, to shield her people the best she can.”
Syren rose as she spoke. Her voice was steady, her back straight. She looked like a queen before Camulos, unwavering, regal, and just as tall as the men.
Liam grabbed her hand. “You’re shaking.” She glanced down. “I don’t think that. Please don’t think they are talking about you, love.”
“Goodness no, Syren. I didn’t mean to offend, sincerely. I understand humans have committed atrocities against each other as well. But the siren queen—”
“I apologize,” she interrupted. “I think the stress of the last few days has caught up to me.”
Liam rose, concern writing creases across his forehead. He took her hands in his, rubbing his palms over them. “Come, a chuisle . Let me draw you a nice hot bath.”
He glanced at Maximus as he passed, his eyes narrow, his lips pressed together. If Ellie didn’t know better, it was a look of more than irritation; it was pure anger.
Maximus closed his door with a soft click.
“I know you’re in here, Pheridones,” he snapped and marched past the fire that danced in the fireplace.
He crossed the room, passing his bed. While most of the others in his company enjoyed the comforts of custom-built beds that accommodated their wings and heights, Maximus settled for one on the smaller end. She emerged from the shadows as he headed to his wardrobe. He was unlashing his fibula when she came up behind him. She unpinned his cape, letting it fall on the stone floor.
“Have you done as I asked?” She purred, stroking one of his wings.
Maximus closed his eyes at the contact and looked back at her. She met his stare with a lustful one of her own. Reaching up, she unbuckled the sides of his breastplate and helped him out of it. He turned to face her, and she ran her hands over his bare chest.
“No, not yet.”
Her fingernails scraped against his skin as she dropped her hands. Her dark eyes turned deadly, and she stepped away from him.
“Why not?”
“Because it isn’t the time.”
“Have they not fallen in love, Maximus? That’s all that’s required.”
He tilted his head and contemplated her very simplistic view of the world. “I’ve brought them here. I’ve done my part. It isn’t that simple, Pheri, and you know it.”
She shrugged. “It is to me. Her fate has already been determined. Her cord has been braided with his. They are destined.”
Maximus sighed. “I know.”
“Make them give in.”
“How exactly would you have me do that, Pheri?”
Her shrug grated on his raw nerves. “It should be simple. Force them if you have to, Maximus. The curse has to be broken for Troy to rise.”
He nodded.
“My sisters and I are waiting.”