Chapter 23
Charisma
In ancient times, Cronus, a Titan and powerful celestial being who ruled over the Kosmos before the Olympian gods, and his spouse, Rhea, gave rise to four children: Demeter, Hera, Poseidon, and Zeus.
Driven by the prophecy of his downfall at the hand of his offspring and compelled by a thirst for power, Cronus incarcerated three of his infants in a dungeon, nulling their magic.
Rhea, a remarkable woman and a mother of great devotion, fought to protect them all.
However, her efforts were merely enough to save one of them before Cronus executed her for treason.
For years, Zeus was nurtured by nymphs, who raised him as their own. His powers amplified at an impressive speed, and it was only a matter of time before he freed his siblings.
Overtaken by wrath but not lacking intelligence, Cronus spared their lives, forging three relics from within Zeus’s siblings that would cause his demise. The god of the sky, thunder and lightning was damned to die at the hands of those who he had striven to save.
A single relic could nullify his magic. In the possession of two, one could coerce him to their will. Three relics were the promise of his imminent demise.
However, Zeus was no fool. He cared for his brother and sisters, but he did not trust them. As he could not destroy them, he transformed Posideon’s relic into Charon’s staff, Hera’s into Pandora’s box, and Demeter’s into Prometheus’s chains.
As of this date, the artifacts have been concealed in a location that rises decennially for mortals. There, the presence of any god not under Zeus’s command would alert him of danger.
My lungs expanded as I rushed air inside, my fingers tightening over the book.
. . . a location that rises decennially for mortals.
The trials. I had little knowledge about the etiquette of humans in the gods’ world, but there were two reasons that made me think my hunch might be correct.
1. During the opening ceremony, Zeus had mentioned the Gods’ Gambit emerged every ten years.
2. During my week in Elythra, almost every interaction with another god was solely to serve the purpose of the game. Otherwise, no deity was present among any of the humans.
The trials had to be where Zeus chose to hide the relics.
Despite his incessant arrogance and narcissism, his strategy was ingenious: transforming the objects that could kill him into guarded artifacts and positioning them where no one would consider searching. It was this way of thinking that led him to be crowned king.
I let out a breath. If I were right, this was my chance to bargain for my freedom. A jolt of relief, excitement and exhaustion flowed from the tip of my toes to my throbbing head.
I could return home. To my mother.
Before the reality of the situation swept in and settled into my mind, I tried to push the thought away. I was going to celebrate when I had a reason to, and until that time came, I was going to ensure my plan would succeed.
As I waited for the four gods, I recalled all the moments Eros had tried to convince me to abandon the idea of escaping.
Not once did he give it away that he was plotting to put an end to the games.
Not for me, I knew, but for all the innocent people who suffered because of Zeus.
And that, strangely, ignited a thread of appreciation for him within me.
“I know you’re here. Show yourself,” I urged, smelling the peony scent covering the room.
Born from particles of darkness and scarcely illuminated by the weak candles, Shadow began to transform into an ebony figure. I could’ve sworn he’d be smiling if he had well-defined features.
“I must confess I’m flattered that you finally demanded my presence, fylachtó. I’m curious, what is it that you plan to do?”
Charm, he called me. My fingers drummed a beat on the wooden table, eyes squinting at the tendrils of smoke surrounding him.
It inched closer to me, sensing my hesitation.
“What leads you to believe the gods will refrain from striking you down the moment they see you?” The Shadow trailed behind me with wisps of darkness following it, my gaze not once leaving his shape.
He reached my left shoulder, where he laid his next words.
“You uphold valuable information now. You represent a risk to their vicious plan. Perhaps you should flee while the option still stands.”
I was aware of the point he was making, but I wouldn’t run. Not when if I played this carefully, it could bring me what I wanted most.
“They need me.”
“Need you?” His tone held no trace of amusement. “What use would a mortal be to four remarkably capable and powerful gods?”
My teeth grit together. “If they don’t want their plan to be compromised the second they attempt it, trust me, they will need me.”
“Interesting,” was the last thing he uttered before he dissolved into nothingness.
As if summoned by his departure, the mahogany door, covered with various maps, creaked open. My breath caught in my throat.
“Give her time. She’ll help us.” As the words slid into the room, the goddess’s palm tightened on the door handle. Her free hand moved to the dagger tucked at her waist, gaze scanning the surroundings for a potential intruder.
She was beautiful—long black hair tucked in a braid that snaked down her back, glacial blue eyes that reflected a frozen lake.
Her leather clothes, the color of obsidian, clung to every curve and angle of her frame.
Hidden beneath the folds and seams of her clothing, daggers were strapped securely, their sharp edges a silent promise.
The Goddess of the Hunt and the Wild.
I lifted my chin—not in defiance—I wasn’t that stupid, and I didn’t have a death wish either—but to show I wasn’t intimidated. In response, her brows lifted. She tapped her long fingers on the hilt, and moved into the room, making space for the others to come in.
This threat I understood. Give me a reason, and I’ll cut your throat without hesitation. Message received. Loud and clear.
When the next god, with the steps of a predator, stopped beside Artemis, it didn’t take more than a glance to realize who stood before me.
The God of the Underworld, Death, and the Lord of the Dead.
His rugged features were as harsh as a sharpened sword. With a lazy gaze, he surveyed me, blackness filling his eyes. Hades’ lips set into a thin, unforgiving line, devoid of any warmth or welcome.
Another threat.
Stories were told that he could predict someone’s death and a part of me shivered at the thought. While the truth about that statement was surely somewhere in the middle, I was certain he didn’t need to foresee my death in order to cause it himself.
At last, Eros, as if afraid to learn what was waiting for him on the other side of the door, walked inside.
For a moment, his eyes widened before they restored their usual impassivity, but not until they trailed over every inch of my body, scanning for injuries.
His fists betrayed his unease, the sound of his knuckles cracking filling the otherwise quiet room.
I gulped, not sure how to read his reaction.
The silence stretched and growing uncertain, I finally spoke, my voice the first to disrupt the quiet.
“I can help you.” I winced at how foolish it sounded and didn’t miss the way Hades’ lip twitched upward.
“If you want to nullify his powers, you need someone on the inside to get you the relic. If one of you shows up on the trial grounds, you’ll no doubt raise some questions, and you’ll be caught before you even have the chance to act against him.
” The air I was holding in rushed out, emptying my lungs before I drew in another breath.
Once again, the gods only exchanged looks.
“Zeus won’t suspect anything. I’ll go on as usual, pass through the trial, and before he figures out what I’m doing, you’ll be in possession of the relic and negate his magic,” I said as their stares continued. I gulped, feeling the need to clarify. “I’ll get the relic for you.”
“How did you gain this knowledge?” Eros inquired, inching closer.
My pupils danced. Greek was one of the many languages I knew, and until this day, I hadn’t realized how helpful it would prove to be.
“It’s in the book.”
“Where did you learn Ancient Greek?” Artemis demanded. “The language has been lost for centuries.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” I flipped it open, skimming through the pages. “This is modern Greek.”
Artemis’s fingers grasped the book, swiveled it toward her, and her index landed with a loud smack over a paragraph. “This”—she pointed—“is not transliterated. It’s Ancient Greek.”
Driven by an insatiable curiosity, I abandoned my safe spot behind the table, approaching the Goddess of the Hunt and the Wild to get a closer look at the pages. The words swirled, transforming into foreign letters before snapping back into a language I understood.
I blinked, taking a step back. How was it possible I had read such an old dialect without even realizing it? Could that be connected to the thread of powers I had inherited from Eros?
Eros inhaled before speaking. “I will handle the matter.”
At that, I pivoted. Handle the matter? What is that supposed to mean?
Eros nodded at the two gods, his fingers drumming on his leg.
His palm folded over my elbow, but before his warm touch could settle, I stepped back from his grasp.
“I’m not some kid you can handle,” I spat out harsher than I intended.
“You all know you can’t do this without a human, and I know it’s probably a rarity for you, since you’re used to not needing one—but that’s the situation.
Act like the big boys you are and accept it. ”
Artemis snorted, crossing her arms over her chest as her foot patted on the ground while Hades remained unflinching.
“We could benefit from her involvement,” Hades admitted, ignoring Eros’s murderous stare.
The God of Love’s nostrils flared, and this time Hades acknowledged it with a slight lift of his brow.