5
As I come to, every inch of me aches. Rocks and sand fill my limbs. The slightest of twitching is the most strenuous of actions.
Winter had all but faded. Only the barest hints of chilly air grace my cheeks. Nothing like the normal winter chill. No snow decorates the ground.
How is it such a pleasant temperature?
Why does my head feel so foggy?
Blinking away sleep, I stifle yawns. My arms and legs are limp. Head pressed to the warm body of a stranger. The golden horse nearly glides across the road. Too swift. Movements too smooth and too drawn out. Each rhythmic step felt too light. Straining, I want to groan at the soreness in my limbs.
Focus,I chide myself. I need to be alert. After all, who the fuck knows what’s going on around here. Definitely not me.
Cracking my eyes a bit wider, I take in my surroundings.
Nothing looked familiar.
This is a vision.
It has to be.
I need it to be.
“Not a vision,” Arista’s voice echoed. A loud yawn comes from the distance. But Ari is nowhere in sight. “This is our unfortunate reality.” My friend’s voice is distant. Like she’s shouting at me while we’re both underwater.
No.
No! Not real.
Frantically I take in my surroundings. Trying to figure out where in Hades’s name I am.
The air felt weird here. Like electricity is continuously flowing through the area. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck raises.
Rolling my head to the side, the town streets are foreign. Alabaster walls with golden roofs surround us. Everything felt so warm and so bright. Even the heavy darkness of the evening didn’t deter those filling the streets. Nymphs with brightly colored hair, satyrs with cloven feet, and even centaurs watch the procession in awe.
With vision failing me, I blink away the fuzz.
I”m the spectacle.
Bound at my wrists like an animal being prepared for slaughter.
Gulping, I hold my chin high.
If these are to be my last moments outside of the Underworld, I will not be sacrificing my dignity.
Passing through the crowd, hushed whispers fall around us. Nothing felt like words. Everything felt foreign. Even the smell felt nothing like my home. Especially not in the dead of winter. The smell of sweet wine and hyacinths surrounds me.
Gaia, I never thought I would be disappointed to see so much beauty and not be dreaming.
A gate creaks open. We pass by the sentries standing guard.
Silence falls around us. It felt jarring and out of place. The rolling hills of the estate sprawl around the large castle. Grounds feeling like they once were filled with so much life but are a shell of what they once were, it seems like I can almost hear an echo of chatter and laughter sighing on the quiet breeze.
The path to the castle was not as far from the surrounding city as I expected. Almost like the city grew up too quickly.
Moonlight glints off the oddly shining surface. Several stories of stone masonry, timber, and plaster surrounded what appeared to be a series of courtyards. Tall open columns line the building.
There are terraces of gardens surrounding the castle with trees larger than some of the small homes back in Karpathos.
Even at this late hour, centaurs, satyrs, nymphs, and a whole variety of other creatures rush around us. As though they had expected our arrival.
The horses slow their pace and others begin to dismount.
One recognizable face appears in front of me as the man I have been riding behind dismounts and turns to take me off the horse. “Phoebus!” Glaring, I struck his face. Two-handed because of them being bound together.
My hand aches instantly.
Striking him was like hitting a marble statue.
The god hisses at me.
A bright red handprint mars his golden skin and perfect face. Yanking me down from the horse by my hair, I yelp as he releases me.
My bottom thumps against the ground. “Don’t try me again,” he warns in a deep baritone voice.
The entire courtyard collectively inhales. Whispers sound. All remarking on how the mortal dared slap a god.
But I don’t let the crowd deter me. Mischief and defiance run through my veins. “Don’t give me a reason to strike you and I won’t.” Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. Holding my head high.
Apollo growls at me. Scowling at me. “If you wouldn’t have slapped me, you wouldn’t have been put on your ass princess. Now would you?”
Grinding my teeth, I spit at him. Treat me like an animal and I will give it to you. “You picked the wrong maiden to get away with garbage like this.”
“Do not, do that, again.” Annoyance bubbled in his eyes, almost more the color of a hot fire than the simple amber I remembered.
Scrunching my face, I tip my chin up at him. Glaring at him, I snap back. “That sounds like a dare to me.”
Propelling myself off the ground, I leap up. He felt so much larger now. Before, Phoebus only felt like he was six feet but now he appeared to be at least seven.
Can gods shift size as they please? I always imagined them as extraordinarily tall. Rivaling the size of trees. But back in town, he looked average. Now, he appears to look even taller.
Leaning back, he pulls away from me. Placing his face outside of my reach, I can tell he learned his lesson.
Large hands wrap around my upper arms, wordlessly dragging me toward the manor.
“Let go of me,” I command as I yank my arm away from him. Each time that I attempted to pull away from him, the tighter his grip is on me.
The god is as unwavering as a mountain.
His strong hands won’t release me. Phoebus hisses, “Do not fight me.”
Pulling me toward the castle, I relent. Focusing instead on memorizing each turn and passage that I possibly can.
Candles flicker against the white walls. The tops of the columns are capped in gold. Even the edges of the room have flourishing gold, gems, and other metals in precise patterns. My eyes catch on the ornate frescos on the walls surrounding us.
Paintings, statues, and lavish rugs are strategically placed. Branches, void of all leaves like dead black vines crawl along the walls and ceiling. Once, it was probably beautiful. Now, it looks like a tomb.
Even surrounded by all the death, the castle is pristine.
Even in the darkness.
Up the grand staircase, we scale through the maze of passages. Was this god doing this to me on purpose? “Where are you taking me, Phoebus?”
“Apollo.”
“What?”
He pulls me further up the stairs. “Apollo is my name. Phoebus was an alias, a nickname of sorts.”
Apollo.
My captor is Apollo.
The Sun God who abducts mortal maidens.
Gods above.
This is worse than I thought.
Drowning in my fears, I lash out at the god. “So, you lied to me, ‘Phoebus Apollo.’” Wow, we’re off to a great start. From lying to kidnapping. Wonder what’s next.
Pursing his lips, he stands firm against my sass. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“You didn’t have a choice?” I clarify indignantly while laughing snarkily. Not because it was funny, but because I”m angry. “I didn’t have a choice. Keep in mind who kidnapped who here.”
Just like the other countless women.
“Pandora, our land is suffering from a plague. Nymphs, dryads, and satyrs turning into stone or trees or flowers.” Pushing me close to the circle of torch light hanging from the wall, he pulls down his toga. “We are dying.”
My eyes widened. “What’re you—?”
“—Just look.” Pulling the cloth from his chest, I flinch. Tan skin from his shoulders fades away into marble. With veins of amber. Sprawling from his chest. Watching him, I could see the molten metal crawling up his body.
The gold pulses with each heartbeat. Carrying the amber liquid farther away from his core.
Furrowing my brows, I look up from his chest to his golden eyes. “Are you… Turning to stone?”
“More specifically, marble.” Taking a moment to fix his toga, I”m almost sad to watch his chest disappear. “To cure our land from the plague, the oracles directed me to scour the mortal lands the foretold maiden to break the curse. Had I had a choice, you would not have been forced here.”
Plucking my hand from my side, his lips linger on my knuckles. The gesture is soft. Releasing my breath, I relax into him.
Wide eyes pour volumes of silent words into me.
He’s being genuine.
But even with his sincerity, a question looms in my mind.
“What happened to the mortals that came before me?” Watching him, my eyes are full of concern. Biting my lower lip, I anxiously wait for his reply.
Apollo shifts his weight. A hand snakes up his body. Gripping into his golden locks.
He’s nervous.
This can’t be good.
“Let’s pick up that conversation at another time, you and I have had a long day.” Huffs the god.
Pulling me off to two closed side by side style doors, Apollo waves his hand at the lock. “Please. I need to know.” I ask in a soft voice.
Click.
The lock disengaged and Apollo sighs. “They turn to mud.” The god looks gloomy.
“Mud!” My knees feel wobbly. Like they can’t support my weight.
“Yes. Mortals were sculpted using a mixture of mud and clay before having life breathed into them.”
At his words, my mouth opens and shuts. Gaping like a fish out of water.
The door creaks open. Revealing a dark room. Void of all life. A servant appears and starts lighting the candles and the hearth. “Now before you do anything, drink the liquid in that small cup on your desk.”
Turning, I looked at the thimble sized cup and sent him a questioning look.
“Drink up,” he instructs.
Picking up the liquid, I swirl it from its teeny container. “What is it? I”m not drinking this until I know what it is first.”
“Ambrosia,” he states. I shoot him a questioning brow. “Hush, it’s a small amount. It will help you bind to this world.”
Looking from the man to my drink, I swirl the liquid once more.
From everything that I know of ambrosia, it appears to be the liquid in front of me. But even so, I’m uneasy drinking the mixture.
Who knows what could be laced in it?
Maybe there’s a potion in there that has been turning my stolen sisters into stone.
“Don’t drink it,” warns Ari.
It’s not like I’d be able to get away with that. Internally I groan as I block out my friend’s protests.
Nodding, I toss back the drink like hard liquor. Almost entirely missing the most pleasant tasting liquid that I have ever experienced.
“Now for some ground rules. You”re not permitted to leave your rooms without my permission.” Apollo stands firm.
I retort, “I think you took a wrong turn to the dungeons.”
“You”re not my prisoner, but you”re not free to go.” His hair shines brightly from the now lit hearth. “Please. I would much prefer that you stay here than a cold dungeon. I want you to eventually like it here. As an honored guest, you’ll eat dinner with me, my sister, and my uncle.”
Grinding my teeth, I bite back a fiery reply.
Is that before or after I turn to mud?
“So, I”m a prisoner.” I clarify, “Why am I not in the dungeons with your other prisoners?”
“This palace is your home, and you”re my guest, but my rules are for your protection.” Apollo pauses to collect his thoughts before replying, “I”m trying to extend to you an olive branch. An act of kindness.”
I counter, “Protection or Control?”
He shoved me against the wall, forcing me to look up at him, “Protection. Much worse than me crawls around this castle. You’d best learn this.”
Every essence of my body tells me to run away and to run away fast.
But I stay firmly rooted against the floor. My throat feels dry. “You”re not allowed to leave without an escort during the day.” I give him another poignant glare. He warns, “It is for—”
“My own protection,” I interject. “Fast learner.”
Staring at each other for a long while, it was almost like a fight for dominance, but I can’t help but think about Apollo’s body flush against mine. Maybe it’s the nerves from all the abrupt chaos that’s my life.
Perhaps it was the towering person glaring down from above.
My body felt like it was pressed against a bonfire. His warmth radiated into me.
Gods, I want him.
To push myself closer to him.
Why is my body betraying me like this? Apollo kidnapped me from my home. Forcing me to leave behind my life. I shouldn’t be having these feelings.
That is, until the God of the Sun commands, “You’ll come downstairs and eat with me.”
I almost rather that he eats me.
Gah, stupid body. A blush curls up my cheek at the thought, but I snap a retort back at him. “Oh, will I?” I arch my eyebrow suggestively.
“Yes,” he states simply. Eyes staring deep into my soul. A glare which felt like a power play.
“I”m not hungry,” I snap.
Apollo punches the wall directly above my head. The wall cracks from the heavy impact. Dust and dead vines rain around my head.
He wants me to be scared of him, but I can’t get over my anger at him instead.
Tightening my jaw, I stare back at the monster of the man in front of me whose eyes are filled with death and destruction.
I may be terrified, but I”ll not give him the satisfaction of me being some fainting mortal maiden.
No matter how scared I am, I”ll not let him know.
Smacking the wall once more, his fist strikes inches from my right ear. My eyes remain steady, unphased. Even if my heart is thundering in my ears. Scowling he stares at me. Eyes full of venom. “Fine,” Apollo snaps.
Turning on his heel, the god strides away from me as his toga flutters from the movement.
Without so much as another look, he exits my new prison.
Slamming the door behind him, I can hear Apollo’s booming voice through the door. “Stand guard in her room. Either she feasts with me, or she eats gruel.”