68. A Feast
A Feast
My father’s palace was widely known
for its banquets, but this was grander
than any other feast he had ever held.
As we stepped past the marble pillars,
it felt like the gilded hall shone brighter
than ever before. Torches lit the corners
of every room and the pearl sheen
of the ceiling made it look bright and open.
One would almost forget parts of
this palace were underground.
I caught the arm of one of my brothers.
‘Who is this feast in honour of?’
I asked him. He stared at me in confusion.
‘Do you not know? Pallas and
Perses have come to stay with us.’
I frowned at this. The God of Weaponry
and his brother the God of Destruction?
‘Why are they staying here?’ I whispered.
He was an exceptionally irritating one
of the Potamoi, with big blue barnacles
that made up his beard and distracted
anyone talking to him. ‘They are here
to teach us how to fight,’ he replied.
‘To fight? Why—’ I was incredulous.
‘You are very dull.’ He was annoyed now.
‘And I have better things to do
than answer your questions.’
At that, he grasped a goblet of wine
and walked off to talk to another River God.
I turned to Asteria who looked at me
with an equally bemused expression.
Leto had taken Metis back to their palace
as it was best to keep Metis out of sight.
Asteria’s delicate hand was holding
a small chalice of nectar. She sipped it
as we watched the
chaos that was a feast for my family
from a comfortable distance
close to the door. In the centre of the hall,
I could see a throng that included our fathers.
‘Is that them?’ Asteria gestured.
I followed her gaze to two strangers.
They towered above everyone around them,
dark hair haloed with curls. It was not hard
to tell that they were brothers. One was built
bigger than the other and my guess was this
was Perses, the God of Destruction,
with his huge arms and rippling muscles.
Next to him, the leaner one must be
Pallas, the God of Weaponry.
I started slightly when he looked over,
his amber eyes holding my stare.
I averted my gaze but not before
Asteria noticed what had happened.
‘You should speak to him.’
She had a teasing tone. I stared at her.
‘And why would I do that?’
‘Perhaps because he is making his way over here.’
She chuckled and before I could process
what she had said, she quickly turned
and walked away, just as a deep, rich voice said,
‘You must be the Oceanid, Styx.’