117. Asteria’s Intuition
Asteria’s Intuition
Boreas’s vessel was made of ice and snow,
and even though we were immortal,
our bodies designed for eternal life,
we were creatures used to the hot sand
of my father’s shores,
where Hyperion’s sun was plentiful.
This vessel was shaped like what
Kronos’s mortals called boats,
but it was large enough to carry
a hundred immortals.
While Leto, Pallas, and Perses conferred
with Boreas, Asteria came to me,
wrapping a warm sheepskin
around my bare shoulders.
‘Thank you,’ I told her in relief.
As we passed through the clouds,
looking over the seas, Asteria
asked me softly, ‘Why did you
not tell me, Styx?’ I stared at her,
unable to fathom her words.
She looked down at my stomach
and my eyes narrowed in understanding.
‘How did you know?’ I demanded.
I had been so careful even Pallas
had not noticed the slight swell
of my belly. Asteria took my hand.
‘I am the Goddess of Oracles, Styx.
And I know you better than anyone.’
I sighed and held her hand tight.
‘Then you must promise not to tell him.’
I looked over to Pallas, his forge-worn hands
animated as he spoke to his nephew.
‘He worries. He would not let me
come on this journey if he knew.’
Asteria raised an eyebrow. ‘Pallas?’
Her eyes danced with amusement.
‘As if any God or immortal could ever
stop you from doing something you want.’
I smiled wryly at her words as she added,
‘You do not even allow your father that.’
We both laughed at this, the sound
tinged with a certain sadness now.
We had both been banished for this.
For our insolence of valuing our freedoms
and each other over commands.
I looked to Asteria, my gaze soft.
‘Do not tell him. I will. I need time.’
She smiled at me and tilted her head.
‘But you must tell him soon,’
she said, looking at my belly.
Before I could respond, Boreas spoke.