6. Chapter 6
Chapter six
Corre
A s if in some hazy dream, Corre passed through all the usual markers that guided the way back to her house, but she didn’t see a thing. She couldn’t get out of her head. All she saw was a mangled form rising from the shadows. An image she was spawning in her head of this Underworld god. This Theron of Tartarus.
Who is he? The thought pressed deeply into her mind. What does he want? And why now?
She played out scenario after scenario but couldn’t think of a single reason why he might have come here or what might be going on. As her shoes skidded across the cobblestone path to her front door, she wondered if she should bother her mother with such questions. Should she tell her about his entry—his trespass—onto their land?
She had to. What if Berenice didn’t know and happened to get into an altercation with him? What if—
Corre shuddered and opened the door.
Her mother smiled as the young goddess walked into the warm cottage. The smell of firewood tickled Corre’s nose, but it didn’t comfort her like it usually did. Her mother’s smile vanished. “Oh honey, what’s wrong?”
“Mother, I...” She couldn’t find the words. How could she explain the situation when she barely understood it herself?
After taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Corre looked at her mother. “Theron is coming. Hades. He was spotted leaving the Underworld, and I don’t know what to think.” She waited for Berenice’s face to change—to twist in horror, jaw gaping open. But it didn’t so much as twitch.
“Oh,” she said, and her face was still steady, though her eyes looked off, pensive. “I see. Well, best be safe then. Stay close.” There was no urgency in her voice, but the air in the cottage grew thicker by the second.
The cheerful pastel walls and windowsills bursting with lilies and roses suddenly didn’t seem so chipper. But more than anything, Corre was confused. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you weren’t afraid of the God of the Underworld,” she said, almost scoffing in disbelief.
“I suppose I’m not,” Berenice said. She tossed another small log into the fireplace that sat nestled into the lefthand wall of the living room. “Though I probably should be.”
“What?” Corre let out a half-laugh. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “How could—"
“I imagine he’s been living a terribly dreadful life down there,” Berenice said, cutting Corre off but seeming not to notice. “And I’m sure he’s been twisted into a truly monstrous god indeed.”
“You’re not scared at all,” she said, her voice rising in disbelief. “Why?”
But her mother didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed in that off place, wherever they were looking. Somewhere far into the distance. Perhaps she didn’t fully grasp it herself.
After a long minute or two, Berenice shrugged. “Like I said, I should be afraid.” She turned to her daughter, her eyes focusing again. It was like her soul had been grabbed and snatched back into the present. “As should you.” She took a few steps forward and took hold of Corre’s hands. Corre searched her mother’s eyes but couldn’t make out the feelings behind them, though the small goddess’s brows weighed heavy above them. “You must stay away from him. Do you understand? He’s extremely powerful. He’s said to have the power of a thousand gods, and since he has never been here before, he’s unpredictable. I’m sure his reason for coming up here is not to smell the freshly grown roses.”
Her grasp tightened on Corre’s slender fingers. “Stay away from him,” she repeated. “Understand?” The young goddess nodded quickly. Berenice’s shoulders relaxed, and her grip released. “Good.” She puffed out a loud breath. “I’m glad you’ve been training with Athena. I suppose the combat training might be of good use for the Goddess of Life and Nature after all.”
Corre’s mouth scrunched to one side, and her stomach dropped. Phineas . Corre and her best friend Phineas always practiced combat on this day of the moon cycle. They met for lessons on combat at Athena’s cottage almost every other day. As the Ares-to-be, Phineas trained there every day, and he was probably there now.
“I have to go to Athena’s,” she blurted, and her mother’s head jerked back.
“What?”
“Phineas is there. He doesn’t know Theron has come. I have to tell him—”
“Whoa, whoa, hang on.” Berenice grabbed hold of her daughter’s arm before she could run out the door. “What did I just tell you?”
“But—”
“No! Theron is dangerous. Please stay put for now.” When Corre opened her mouth to contest, her mother added, “Don’t go out looking for trouble.” The young goddess snapped her mouth shut and slumped into her chair.
What am I going to do?
She thought of Phineas. Of him waiting for her by Athena’s cottage and wondering where she was, and she thought of when she last sparred with him and how he always made her laugh. If anything happens to him, I don’t think I could stand it. He was a good friend and her favorite training partner. Best of all, he never judged her for wanting a combat training partner. She went against the status quo, which was very, very taboo to do.
There was a lot about Corre that wasn’t typical—at least not for a goddess prophesied to one day be someone like Persephone. She never shied away from a fight. Especially if it meant protecting those she loved. Another good reason she started blowing off steam with Phineas and Athena.
Berenice’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he will be okay, but you need to stay put.” She dug her stare into Corre until the young goddess finally accepted defeat.
“Okay, okay. I get it.” She let out an agitated sigh. Her palms were sweating, but she at least stopped her leg from shaking as she added, “He won’t come here anyway. Theron, I mean.” She laughed nervously. “But I’ll go mad if I stay in here for the rest of the evening, so I’ll just go out and work in the grass.” She got up to head back outside when her mother clapped a hand on her wrist.
“I know you better than that, Corre.”
“But I—”
“Stay inside until it’s safe to go out.”
“I highly doubt Theron will be paying me a visit in our garden.”
“It’s never unwise to be safe.”
Corre sighed. “Fine but I’m not a child. I’d be safe out there, you know.” She waited for a retort from her mother, but nothing came. It wasn’t like Berenice not to coyly respond. Instead, she let go of her daughter’s wrist and shuffled back to the cushioned seats near the fireplace.
After it was clear that her mother was done speaking, Corre decided to camp out in her room. “I’ll see you at supper,” she said softly, but her mother didn’t respond. The slight goddess was silent, still, her body rigid and unmoving. Corre’s throat went dry, her mouth chalky. A lump bobbed in her throat as she attempted to swallow. Something was going on. Something her mother wasn’t willing to admit. And it was eating Corre alive.
Theron
The smell of pine and rain-soaked dirt nearly knocked Theron over as he was swallowed by a sea of trees. He couldn’t tell if the smell was pleasant or revolting. It was strong. So new and unfamiliar. The stench of blood on one of his servants wasn’t helping the overstimulation. “I told you not to kill anyone,” Theron grumbled.
The demon cackled. “I didn’t,” it squawked. “It was a mere animal. I saw it twenty paces from here.”
The god stopped. He looked at the bony creature. “If you saw that,” he hissed, “then you must have seen Athena’s house, correct ?”
The demon shrunk, its hooked lips sewing together. It was the same demon that tried hurting the child. Theron lifted his hand and crushed the air between the two, causing the creature’s throat to shrivel, almost to the point of collapse. The power surged through Theron’s veins, spilling from his mind with ease and pulsing out his fingertips.
He tossed the creature aside, its body hitting the earth with a loud thud.“Do any of you want to stray off track?” He roared at the others. They slumped in fear, shaking their heads emphatically. “Good!” He looked at the demon gasping on the ground. He watched it rake the dirt with its claws, searching for breath until it captured enough air to wobble to its feet. Theron looked at the rest of his servants. “Let’s keep moving.”
Theron was ready to search for hours. The woods looked expansive and, knowing how enormous and complex his own labyrinth was, he assumed Athena’s palace of trees would be the same. But he was thankfully wrong. Maybe it was his booming voice that shook the trees and caused the crows to caw and flee as he treaded through the forest. Or maybe it was the scent of blood still lingering on his limping servant. Whatever the warning signal had been, it made the Goddess of War stand before her own house, ready to fight.
Theron chuckled. “I see you’re here to welcome me. How kind.”
The goddess didn’t move. She stayed locked in a battle stance, her slightly muscular frame firmly set in place as she watched his every movement. Tall for a female god, the red-haired goddess almost came to Theron’s chin, which was saying a lot. He’d never met anyone whose stature rivaled his, other than his master.
“Since you know that I’m here, this will make things much easier for me.” He lifted his arm and swept it forward, focusing his mind. Everything between them—the wind, the smells, the spores in the air—moved with his command. Her body froze as he restrained her solely with the invisible power he possessed, tying her in place with his mind. It was a piece of cake for him, but she was obviously struggling.
“Not so powerful now, are we?” he spat, stopping a mere few steps away from where she now stood bolted to the ground. She tried moving her face, but the strain quickly took its toll on her. Beads of sweat pilled at her hairline, and a vein bulged at her temple. “Tell me. Where can I find the goddess Persephone?” Strands of crimson hair stuck to her face, but her lips refused to so much as part. Theron’s eyebrow flickered in frustration. “This is very little effort for me,” he said. “To save some time, why don’t you tell me so I can be on my way?”
He loosened his grip on her mind, relaxing some of the muscles in his own, so she could speak. When her face could finally move, she gasped for breath. “You’re…wasting your time,” she said, struggling to rasp out each word, “I’m not going to tell you a thing.”
Theron’s face twisted, and he let out a loud, unintelligible yell. “ Where is she?! ” His power pushed deeper into her mind. He felt each movement of thought around invisible fingers. Then he released the grip slightly to give her a chance to speak. She didn’t budge.
He didn’t want to have to expend the energy to do this, but he had no choice.
He reached further into her mind, passing through the barriers he’d previously left untouched, and searched her memory through any sensation and thought she manifested. He needed to find something. Anything. Any information at all that would lead him to Persephone.
Finally, he saw something. In his own mind, an image formed. The image of a god and goddess. Running. Fighting. They were running through the woods—through these familiar, pungent trees. They shifted from children to adults within his mind. Their skills sharpened. Their power intensified. He had a hard time making out their features. He couldn’t see their faces—just their bodies and movements.
He barked out a frustrated growl and kept working through the goddess’s mind. She grunted in frustration, futilely trying to resist his power.
He needed more information—who these gods were and where he could find them. Anything .
“Tell me who they are!” he yelled, letting go of Athena’s mind. She gasped for breath, and he let her fall. Her body collapsed at his feet. “Who are they?!”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“You know damn well who I’m talking about!”
Athena’s shoulders dropped and rose in long, slow strokes as she struggled to even her breaths. It was clear that this goddess wouldn’t give him any information willingly, but he was afraid any additional use of his powers would destroy her.
“Tell me,” he repeated.
“No—” she said, but as she said it, he saw something else. With her mind left unguarded, her body working solely to regain its strength, he caught a glimpse of something he knew was a clue. A cottage. A patch of grass. A field of flowers. The head of that young woman running with that god—her golden hair, tinted with pink, half-tied back in a bun at the base of her skull.
He had a lead.
He grinned. “Thank you for your cooperation.” He whisked around, his cape rippling above the fallen Goddess of War. His demons scurried around her, examining her body. He gestured for them to follow as he strode out of the woods. “She’ll get up soon enough,” he said. But by then it will be too late. I’ll have already found her.
This girl in the flowers.