Epilogue
Olympus
The winged horse landed on the balcony, its hooves scraping across the polished marble as it skidded to a halt. The rider slid from its back and clattered to the ground.
A cloud of nymphs, the Twelve’s mortal servants, ran forward, twittering with concern. Their gossamer dresses billowed as they reached out and hauled Hera to her feet.
“You’re hurt!”
“My Queen, who has done this?”
“Come inside, we will tend to you.”
A gauntleted hand shot out and grabbed one of the nymphs by the neck.
The girl’s eyes bulged as her twitching feet left the floor.
Hera drew a deep breath, then sighed as the girl’s life-threads rushed into her body.
She cracked her neck and dropped the dead nymph, the pain in her bruised limbs melting away as she stalked inside.
She unfastened her snow-soaked cloak and let it slide to the patterned topaz floor. A nymph darted forward and picked it up, before scuttling out of reach.
Hera removed her helm and appraised her reflection in an ornate mirror that spanned the entire wall.
The remnants of a cut were still fading above one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
She smoothed her black curls. One of the golden strands that wove through her hair stuck up at an unpleasing angle.
Despite her efforts, she couldn’t bend it to her will.
She pressed her full lips together. Normally, she would never leave her chambers in such a state, but the events of this day were unprecedented.
“Where is my husband?”
The nymphs exchanged furtive glances behind her back. Pathetic creatures.
“The King of Heaven is in the throne room...”
She could sense a “but.” He was with that boy again.
“Say it.”
Two girls pushed a third forward. The nymph quaked.
“He said he’s not to be disturbed.”
She flinched as Hera shoved the helm into her trembling hands. Then the Queen of Heaven strode out through the open doors.
Hera paced down the corridor, the clink of her armor echoing off the marble columns.
The wall mosaics changed as she passed, her presence triggering them to swirl into a different pattern.
You could tell which deity had last walked by depending on the scene depicted by the tiny pieces of precious stone.
They always clustered to show a triumphant frieze from the present god’s life.
Her son, Hephaestus, had designed it to honor their family, he’d said.
She thought it was so he could keep track of them.
The current mosaic showed Hera lifting an infant Ares into the air, the sun shining behind them like his birth had brought forth the dawn. Hera didn’t bother to look at it. After hundreds of years of walking down this hall, she knew the placement of every gem.
In the flickering light from the chandeliers, the mother of pearl clouds inlaid on the megaron doors looked like they were threatening to storm. Gold thunderbolts spiked down from their swollen bellies. She breathed a short sigh. She’d had enough of the elements for one day.
Two guards stood on either side. Their handsome faces tightened with unease as she approached. Hera’s eyes flicked over them in disdain. They were always pretty. Calling them guards was an exaggeration. The only thing they guarded was her husband’s infidelity.
Not today.
She raised her chin. She could see them weighing up their dilemma. Enrage her now or enrage Zeus later? Either way their futures didn’t look bright. She flexed the fingers of her right gauntleted hand.
The guard on the left cracked first and heaved one door open with a decoratively muscled arm.
Hera strode past without looking at him.
She paced across the cavernous circular hall, over the twelve diamonds set into the floor that fanned around a golden sun, each encasing a likeness of the gods’ favored animals.
The King of the Gods was sitting on his throne. It was the central and largest of the twelve. Vast marble statues of each god sat impassively around the circle, the real deities’ seats carved into their giant feet.
Zeus wore an ivory robe draped over his muscular limbs. His skin was as pale as his marble sculpture, his raven hair slicked back to the nape of his neck, and his cerulean eyes, colder than a winter sky, were fixed on Hera.
Perched on the armrest of her husband’s throne was Ganymede. The boy’s beautiful face fell slack with fear as she strode toward them. He stumbled to his feet and backed away from Zeus.
“Get out.”
The youth didn’t move.
Zeus’s eyes swept over his wife’s armor, then he nodded to Ganymede. The young man half walked, half ran out of the room, his lithe body twisting away from Hera as he passed her.
She knelt before her husband.
“My Lord, I went after the girl.”
Zeus’s face betrayed nothing.
“Ares came to me after she escaped his attempt...”
The King of the Gods took her apart with his gaze. “She is still alive.”
Her hands began to tremble. She tried to calm them, but her temper got the better of her. “The girl from his prophecy appears, and you didn’t tell me. How could you send the children after her not knowing what she truly is? She could have destroyed them!”
Zeus rose from his throne and walked slowly down the marble steps. Hera backed away.
“Where is she now?”
“The Caucasus Mountains.”
Zeus’s brow darkened. Hera could see the life-threads pulsing in his eyes.
“You let her speak to Prometheus.”
“I...”
Zeus snapped his fingers. The click of the golden gauntlet he always wore on his right hand echoed around the chamber. A bolt of lightning sizzled between his fingers.
He advanced on her. “I gave you the world. I raised our family to the heavens, I banished death from our halls, and what do I receive in return? A cold disappointment of a wife and spoiled children, consumed by petty games. You have all grown soft and careless. No more.”
He was standing so close the heat of his thunderbolt burned her cheeks. She knew better than to run.
“You were right about one thing, my Queen.”
The thunderbolt expanded in Zeus’s hand until it was almost blinding. Hera could smell her hair burning. She wondered if this time he was going to kill her.
Zeus rammed the bolt down into the mosaic of the sun. The floor exploded around them, shards of glazed stone smashing into the marble legs of the gods. Through the lights bursting in front of Hera’s eyes, she saw deep cracks splinter through the statues of her family.
Standing in the center of his destruction, Zeus’s eyes bore into her like two burning stars.
“I will never underestimate her again.”