54. In Which an Owl Delivers a Message
Chapter 54
In Which an Owl Delivers a Message
Cephas in the Flatlands region of Olympus, Tellus Province
A s Athena sat at the warrior table, she felt familiar feathers brushing past. She hardly looked up anymore when Aro flew, but this time, she stopped and met the bird’s eyes. The right one blinked, and then the left.
“What is it, my pet?” she cooed, tickling her finger under the owl’s chin. Aro closed her eyes, enjoying the contact, and popped them open. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, wiggling her wings back and forth. Energy in the room shifted, and Aro, in her other form, sat cross-legged on the table.
“I have news, My Goddess.” Her little hands clapped together as she spoke, fairly humming with excitement. Aro was a tiny thing in her semi-human state, standing no larger than when she was an owl. Her bones were delicate, her features fine. Her hair was the color of snow, wild around her head, tangled and matted as she refused to tame it. She had large, wide-set, yellow eyes and a sharp nose that hooked at the end.
“You do?” Athena asked, tilting her head. Hoping her little companion would take the hint, she waved her hand to the chair beside her. She never did. Centuries ago, Athena had given up trying to teach the fazeling to behave properly, but she still attempted to get her to adhere to some form of decorum. Aro glanced at the chair and remained on the table, tucking both feet under her and sitting on her knees.
“Tell me. Tell your goddess what you have learned today, my pet.”
“A company has been naughty, My Goddess. Very naughty.” She squealed and clapped her hands so forcefully that her tiny elbows flapped.
“Which company?” Her sharp tone seemed to spur her pet on.
“Ahh, it is interesting, yes?”
“Yes, it is interesting. Tell me what you know, little one.”
“I know new things, My Goddess. I know lots of new things. I was summoned, and now I know.”
Athena rubbed the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. While she loved her little owl dearly, dealing with Aro was, more often than not, a lesson in patience.
“What new thing does my little pet know?” She changed her strategy, using sweetness to lure the information out of her.
The owl clapped her tiny hands rapidly, her voice cracking as she ascended an octave in excitement.
“New thing! New thing. Naughty, naughty company.”
She raised from her knees and flapped her arms wildly, stretching her neck upwards. Wiggling side to side as she lowered herself back down, she found a comfortable position on her knees again.
“Yes, you know a new thing. Tell your goddess what it is, little one.”
Athena was running out of patience. She adored and doted on her, but it was times like this when she desperately wished for an actual messenger instead of a fazeling. Aro wiggled her shoulders side to side, settling herself onto the table. Her petite knees parted, and she lowered herself further, on her legs. Her yellow eyes opened very wide, too wide, unnaturally wide, as she grinned and twisted her delicate features into a grimace.
Athena sighed.
Sometimes, Aro would ramble on with excitement for hours before she finally told her news. Given her current behavior and pulsating elation, Athena was eager to learn what the fazeling knew.
“Serathena has a lover.” She squeaked a strangled giggle, sounding like a wrong note from a violin string, a mix between a hum and squeal.
“The Serathena?” Athena’s eyes narrowed. “She’s supposed to be dead.”
Aro clapped her hands eagerly, the sound sharp and crisp. Her elbows flapped as if trying to take flight, and she giggled again and bounced up on her heels.
“She not dead. It lies. It all lies. They lie to My Goddess. The Serathena is alive. She alive, and she has a lover.”
Her features darkened. “Who, my sweet?” Her voice was cold and flat. “Who is her lover?”
“Evander!” Aro screeched the name loud enough that Athena covered her ears. “Evander, Epsilon Warrior. He not listen to My Goddess. She alive, and he took her to his bed. Took her to his bed to do human things to her. He not listen to My Goddess and defiled himself. He broke vow to My Goddess.” Her excitement caused her voice to reach a fever pitch, and she bounced up and down on her knees as she spoke, flapping her arms and screeching.
“She’s alive!” Hestia gasped.
Hestia entered with two council members behind her. Athena had summoned her before Aro arrived but, in all the commotion, had forgotten. “An Epsilon Warrior has dishonored his vow.” Athena addressed the two men. “He has defiled the Serathena and has committed treason against Olympus.”
The two council members stopped just before her and saluted.
One said, “My Goddess, unless there is proof, there cannot be a ruling of treason.”
Athena pounded a fist on the table and rose to her feet. “No treason! I gave him a direct order, and now the fate of Olympus is in jeopardy.”
“Athena,” Hestia said calmly, “The council was coming to inform you—”
She sliced her fist in the air. “Nothing you could tell me will change the fact that my orders were disobeyed.” She turned to the fazeling, dancing excitedly, hopping from foot to foot. “Who told you this, Aro?”
The following screech broke several china teacups and glasses on the sideboard behind them. They shattered, shards flying up into the air. Two of her guards placed their hands on their ears.
“The best part. The best part.” Aro stood and danced on the table, her feet stomping as she whirled. “A siren,” she sang as she twirled. “A tethered siren. Guess. Guess who?”
“Aro,” she snapped.
The fazeling kicked and jumped up and down several times.
“Guess who has a slave siren? Guess.”
“Aro!” Athena bellowed, her patience gone. Her gaze snapped to Hestia and the council members before she grabbed the owl’s arm and yanked her down to the table. “I will not guess. You are wasting our time. Tell me now. Your goddess demands it.”
“The queen. The Pythian queen has tethered a siren. She has the siren. She knows all, My Goddess. Her eye sees all. Your company has disobeyed, and now the Dark Oracle has a siren.”
Aro’s excited voice was almost too high-pitched to be understood. She was screaming the words and flapping one arm as Athena held the other.
“The Dark Oracle?”
The goddess and her pet froze. Hestia, the guards, the council members, everyone in the room turned to look. Medusa stood framed in the doorway. Having heard the commotion and screeching from the hallway, she came to investigate.
“Aerelia?” Medusa clenched her fists at her side, face tightened.
The powerful sorceress’ magic surged, and Athena shrunk back. Medusa’s magic was light and dark, sunlight and shadows. She was the only one the goddess ever truly feared.
“Aerelia has a siren?”
“Medusa,” she began, but the sorceress snapped her wrist. Long, dark shadows snaked out from her, slithering along the marble floor and sliding up the table. They formed into vipers, mouths agape, fangs gleaming. They hissed in unison as one struck out, snapping its jaws. Athena stepped back, knowing the danger she was in.
“You assured us you knew what you were doing. You said not to worry, Athena. Aerelia has a siren. The Dark Oracle has tethered a siren.”
“Medusa,” Athena started again. Medusa’s shadows slithered across the table. One snake rose to eye level with Athena and opened its mouth, its fangs on display.
“Don’t,” Medusa hissed. “Who is the siren?”
Aro looked from Athena to Medusa and back, her little head swiveling from side to side. She shrunk back.
“Answer me,” the sorceress snapped. Aro’s yellow eyes widened further, her pupils expanding, unnaturally consuming all the pigment. “Tell the truth, Aro. Who is the siren that Aerelia has tethered?”
The words were barely a squeak. “The queen. Callassa, the siren queen.”
Athena didn’t feel her magic surge. The chairs on either side of her splintered, exploding into pieces almost instantly. Aro shrieked as Athena scrambled back, stumbling over wooden shards. Medusa stood in front of her in a blink. Backing up until she hit the wall, Athena froze. The powerful mage took a slow, steadying breath. She closed her deep-brown eyes for a moment, collecting herself. Athena could feel the cold shadows sliding along her ankles, twisting up her legs, shackling her in place. When Medusa’s eyes snapped open, the goddess flinched.
“Aerelia has Callassa. Callassa, Athena. Her power is immense, her magic unparalleled. Your warriors have hidden the Serathena, and the Dark Oracle has one of the most feared creatures on Olympus. She isn’t tucked away on some island. She isn’t under Zaphine’s thumb. No. The siren queen is here. With us.” Medusa’s tone was a warning. “You did this. Your arrogance and presumption did this. You lied to your warriors. This is your fault. You wanted the Serathena killed at any cost, and now look where we are. The Serathena lives and Callassa is here. You will be the one who will bring Olympus down around our heads. If her blood falls, we face destruction, and Aerelia will gain freedom.”
Athena balked and slammed her fist back against the wall. “I? I did this? I didn’t do this. My warriors disobeyed. They disobeyed orders. They defiled my sacrifice. Evander broke his sacred vow. I gave him the enchanted dagger to kill the Serathena without letting her blood drop. My warriors will pay for their treason against Olympus, for allowing the Serathena to live.”
“But she is the key to our saving,” Hestia said. Athena looked over Medusa’s shoulder, forgetting that Hestia was still in the room. “The Serathena is the savior.”
Medusa narrowed her eyes at Hestia. “She is the destroyer,” she hissed, her words sounding like a snake. “The oracle is very clear. She is the destroyer, and now Aerelia has Callassa. If she uses the siren to capture the Serathena, we will all pay the price for her vengeance. She can raise an army with that kind of power on her side. She would have control of Callassa and the Serathena. The house of copper shall fall, Athena. You are the house of copper. You have set into motion something that cannot be undone.”
“It’s untrue. I was told the queen was dead by her people. They have a new queen. She no longer sits on the throne,” Athena whispered, terror gripping her as the realization of what this meant slammed into her.
“But she isn’t dead, is she Aro?” Medusa addressed the owl.
The fazeling nodded rapidly. “Callassa not dead.”
“How do you know?” Medusa glared at Athena.
“Callassa is the one who summoned me. She had a message for My Goddess.”
“What is the message, Aro?”
The fazeling screeched, her arms flapping wildly.
“What is the message?” Medusa repeated, her darkened stare holding Athena in place.
“Olympus falls.”