A Storm of Blood and Stone (Myths of Stone Book 3)

by Galen Surlak-Ramsey

  Euryale chuckled. “What sense does it make to keep that one in the first place? Of all the spots in the world, you’d think she’d want to forget that one the most.”

  “Her and Zeus.”

  The two gorgons froze.

  “Achlys was the one who fashioned the poison she used on Zeus way back when, yes?” Stheno asked.

  Euryale nodded. “He’d be the last one she’d want to know her whereabouts.”

  Stheno laughed and spun in place, flinging through the scrolls she’d tossed. Euryale was at her side a split second later, helping her dig. “What did it look like?” she asked in a panic.

  “I don’t know! A scroll!”

  “They’re all scrolls!”

  Stheno didn’t reply but instead raised herself up over the pile and circled it like a hawk eyeing a fully stocked pond. A moment later, she leaped across the entire thing. “Ha!” she yelled, snatching up a scroll. “Got you!”

  “Hurry!” Euryale said, flying to her sister’s side. “Unroll it.”

  A flick of Stheno’s claws was all it took to cut through the leather strap that bound the scroll, and she had it fully unrolled before the tie hit the floor. The map itself wasn’t much, a sketch of a bog, somewhere in eastern Europe. Near the top was a tiny figure of a hut, and off to the side were the most peculiar of instructions.

  “Never say no,” Euryale said, reading the list from top to bottom. “Mind your manners. Don’t fall asleep.” The gorgon looked up to find Stheno equally as puzzled. “What do you make of that?”

  Before Stheno could answer, Zeus’s thunderous voice filled the air. “Euryale,” he boomed. “Where are you?”

  Euryale narrowed her eyes and rattled her tail as she went to the window. In the center of the courtyard, she saw Zeus. With one hand, he firmly held on to the labrys Hephaestus had forged out of all the melted artifacts, and with the other, he was ordering a dozen cyclopes to search the grounds as the satyr stood next to him, pointing a finger in their direction.

  “They’re coming,” Euryale growled. “And he brought that stupid ax.”

  Chapter Eagles

  Alex slipped.

  His hands clawed at the unyielding rock face, and his feet found no purchase. He dropped at least twenty feet before he slowed his fall, and not without losing a few layers of skin in the process. His fingertips managed to dig into an inch-wide ledge right after, and Alex collapsed against the face of the cliff, exhaling sharply.

  His frosty breath hung in the air, and he watched it drift for a few seconds while he steadied himself. This wasn’t the first time he’d fallen on his way up, and thankfully, it hadn’t become his end, either. And as terrifying as the last few seconds had been, and as dire as the circumstances were surrounding his family and the reason for his ascent, a part of Alex found himself enjoying it all. Or at least, enjoying the purpose it gave him.

  He was a hero, after all, and as Odysseus and Heracles had once put it to him, could a potter be truly called a potter without clay to work? Or a king be a called a king without land to rule? Or in Alex’s case, a hero be called a hero without adversity?

  Apparently not, for Alex couldn’t deny that having this quest, for lack of a better word, was filling a need in his soul like no other. He only wished that the stakes didn’t involve his kids.

  Alex expanded his chest and focused on how the chilled air felt as it entered his body. Invigorated by it, he began his climb once more. He chose a new route this time, a much wider one that ascended not nearly as fast, but it was one that he could make with relative ease. He really should’ve brought an ice ax and spiked boots. Why he didn’t think of that before he started eluded him. A combination of being short on time and hubris, most likely.

  Within five minutes, he’d made up the ground he’d lost, and five more after that, he found a narrow crag on the mountain that offered plenty of handholds. Spirits bolstered, Alex redoubled his efforts, not stopping once until he reached the top, except to admire the view of the world when he needed to plot a tricky jump.

  When he’d pulled himself up and over the last edge, he found himself staring at a pair of monstrous birds who sat perched on a couple of tall boulders only a dozen feet away. They ruffled their feathers the moment he came into view, and their vibrant eyes seemed to take in everything around them—everything, that is, except for Alex himself.

  Alex held his breath. Though it seemed that thus far Artemis’s cloak shielded him from their sight as she’d promised, he wasn’t about to test the theory that they couldn’t locate him on sound, especially with the enormous beaks and talons they sported. Cripes, he thought, it was no wonder these two were on guard. They looked vicious enough to send even Ares running.

  After a few seconds spent in total stillness, Alex eased forward, carefully transferring his weight from one foot to the other. The ground there, thankfully, was bare rock, and he didn’t have to worry about the crunch of snow underfoot. When the eagles failed to react to his measured advance, he took another step, and then another and another.

  His lungs started to burn when he was within a couple of paces, but he didn’t dare exhale. Instead, he kept up his cautious pace until he was right between them, at which point he stopped and readied the pouch Artemis had given him.

  Quieter than a shadow, he reached in and took a pinch of dust. He tried to let loose a tiny puff of air from his mouth to blow it on the first bird’s head, but instead, with his lungs screaming for air, what came out was an explosive exhale. The powder flew from his fingers, covering the eagle’s head and promptly knocking him out, but the entire ordeal was more than enough to send the other into a frenzy.

  “Shit!” Alex yelled, losing his bearing and scrambling sideways. Talons grazed his head as the enormous raptor launched itself at him.

  The bird cried out as it spun around and searched for Alex. A moment later, it spread its wings and tried to shoot into the sky. It would’ve easily done so if Alex hadn’t honed his giant-creature fighting skills to near perfection while on Elysium, and thus, his reflexes were second to none.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Alex said, leaping into the air. With one hand, he grabbed the eagle’s head by the beak and twisted it sideways, and with the other, he clamped down on a wing, causing them both to drop like a rock. Feathers and blood flew as the two crashed to the ground and fought.

  The eagle sank its talons into Alex’s chest, tearing deep into muscle and bone. Had Alex not been a veteran lion wrestler as well, he’d likely have succumbed to those wounds in an instant. Instead, he gritted his teeth and accepted the strike long enough to pull out a little more powder and throw it into the bird’s face.

  The eagle screeched again, shook its head, and went limp. Alex waited a few seconds before releasing his hold and taking to his feet. He brushed himself off, which did little other than smear more of his blood everywhere, some of it onto Artemis’s cloak. He grimaced when he noticed how much of his own gore clung to it and hoped it didn’t stain. He had no idea how pristine she expected it to be when he returned it, but he definitely felt a trip to whatever dry cleaners Olympus had before he saw her again would be a good thing.

  At that point, Alex continued, leaving the sleeping guards where they were and ducking into the tunnel. Along the way, he drew the hood back over his head, thinking it wise in case there were more guards ahead. Said tunnel ended up being longer than he’d anticipated, but he found the cave with Hera soon enough. That also meant, however, that he found the bull, Crios, sleeping nearby. The giant animal snorted and flicked his tail when Alex entered, a reaction that stopped his heart and rooted him in his tracks.

  He did have the presence of mind to quickly dump the rest of the powder he had on its head. The amount he had left wasn’t even half of what he’d put on the birds, but it seemed to be enough—for now. The beast settled down with a huff.

  Hera, who remained chained, wrapped, and stuck in a cage, did not. The goddess rose as much as her restraints would allow, and
Alex watched her study the entrance for a few seconds before she grinned.

  “I know you’re there, Artemis,” she said. “I know your dust’s smell like I know my own perfume.”

  Alex thought about remaining quiet but decided against it. He needed to talk to her no matter who she thought had come, and no matter how big the bull was who shared the cave with her. He could only hope the animal would stay asleep throughout the whole ordeal.

  “It’s not Artemis. It’s me,” Alex said, lowering his hood.

  “Alex,” Hera said with a sickeningly sweet tone. “To what do I owe the honor of such a risky visit?”

  “I need your help,” he said, glancing at the bull and taking a few quick steps away from it.

  Hera cackled. “What makes you think I’d ever give it to you?”

  Alex had expected such a reply, and part of him even expected worse. That said, he wasn’t about to let it get to him. “It would seem to me, Queen Hera,” he said, gesturing at her prison, “that you need all the friends you can get, despite the power you have.”

  “Alex, playing to my vanity will get you nowhere,” she said. “In fact, I’m insulted you even think you can hide a single thing from me.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Of course, you do,” she said. “My intuition proved true yet again. Cronus has demanded something of your wife, something Zeus isn’t happy with, and now you need me to make things right.”

  Alex’s brow shot upward, though he desperately wished otherwise a moment later. Even in his relatively short time spent with the Olympians, he knew Hera was without equal when it came to exploiting weakness. Perhaps if he could still remain strong, or at least, not desperate, he could salvage the conversation. “Cassandra’s been poisoned,” he said. “Apollo needs help in saving her.”

  “A pity.”

  “That’s my daughter,” Alex said, marching up to her as his temperature rose, and his hands trembled.

  “Is that supposed to make me care more or less?” Hera asked, her tone even colder than her last reply.

  Alex shot a hand through the cage, grabbed her by the hair, and pulled. “The last enemy I had in chains, I almost tossed into River Acheron,” he said, low and even. “I’ll have no qualms about doing that with you.”

  Despite having her head slammed against the bars, Hera glared. “Threaten me again, and I’ll have more coals heaped upon your head, and your children’s children’s children’s heads than there are stars in the sky.”

  “Bold words for someone imprisoned.”

  “I won’t be forever,” she said. “And if you think Typhon or Arachne can forever hold a grudge, you’re going to quickly learn why everyone—and I mean everyone—fears my wrath.”

  Alex let the goddess go, shoving her head forward in the process. He paced for a few moments, rage building, trying to come up with some tact that would work. But what? She was immune to physical threats and blackmail, and he certainly had nothing she wanted, but she was the only one with everything he needed.

  Alex straightened, and despite his best efforts to carry a flat affect, a smile spread across his face. “Do you know why I came to you?”

  “Your first mistake is to think I’d even care.”

  “It’s not because I’m looking for a cure,” Alex said, ignoring the jab. He paused a moment, waiting for Hera’s reaction. She inclined her head slightly, which was enough of a signal that he had her attention. “We have that part handled. The reason I came here was I’m looking for a way to turn stone back to flesh. I understand that you’re the only one who can do such a thing.”

  Hera studied him for a couple of minutes, minutes Alex felt he didn’t have. He wasn’t sure which of the sleeping animals would wake first, but he knew the last thing he wanted to be was around when that happened.

  “Your wife petrified your daughter, didn’t she?”

  Alex nodded.

  “Then I’ll gladly stay in this cage ten thousand years so she’s reminded every day of the horror she inflicted on her own child,” Hera sneered. “I will never help that vile monster.”

  “I’ll admit, I came to you first because you were the closest and obviously knew what you were doing,” he said. “But if you won’t help, then you can rot in here alone, and I’ll find someone else.”

  “There is no one else.”

  Alex shook his head. “You’re bluffing.”

  Hera smirked. “Am I?”

  She wasn’t, and that was precisely the reaction he was going for. “Then I suppose when Euryale returns, I’ll tell her that first. And once that’s done, I’ll tell her where you are, because there’s no force in all of creation that’ll keep her from coming up here and turning you to stone.”

  A vein on the side of her head popped to the surface of her skin as her face hardened and her mouth twisted into a snarl.

  “And since you’re the only one who could ever reverse it, I suppose that will make you a permanent statue for the rest of time,” Alex added. Though it was clear he didn’t need to paint her the complete picture, rubbing the obvious in her face felt damn good.

  If looks could kill, the Queen of Olympus would’ve slain Alex ten times over by then. “Okay, Alex,” she hissed, “I’ll help, but not before you run an errand for me.”

  Alex held up a finger. “Ah, ah, ah. Statue.”

  “Errand first,” she said. “Or I tell Zeus you were here and are in league with Cronus. I promise I’ll see him again long before your wife can get to me.”

  Alex folded his arms over his chest, weighing her counteroffer. He knew deep down that he’d hate whatever it was, and that it would likely cause untold troubles for him and his wife later on. But with Hera being his daughter’s only realistic hope at this point for ever getting her life back, Alex knew his decision was an automatic one.

  “Fine,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

  Chapter Into the Bog

  After taking the map, the two gorgons hurried out of the depository room the way they’d come, but not before Stheno made sure to fling the main door wide open.

  Within moments, they raced through the underground tunnels, intent on finding an exit that was as far from Zeus and his cyclopes as possible. To their dismay, however, progress felt slow, if not non-existent. Without their satyr guide, they were unsure which way to go as each hall looked the same: narrow and featureless.

  “How can this place go on forever with no rooms and no way out?” Stheno said with an exasperating groan once they reached yet another intersection—another intersection that gave a severe case of déjà vu at that.

  “I don’t know,” Euryale admitted. “We must be missing something. I swear we’ve been here before.”

  “If we are, we’d best gather our wits, because I’d wager Zeus will be searching these tunnels soon enough. I doubt they’ll remain hidden for long.”

  Stheno tapped her claws on the stone wall for a few moments before her face suddenly brightened. “Wrong turns at whatever branch must send you back to the middle,” she said. “Father used to tell of such mazes designed to drive people mad. We simply need to keep track of which turns lead us here and which do not.”

  “I’m not sure if we have that sort of time,” Euryale admitted. “The satyr led us through a hefty walk.”

  “I know, but there’s something else we can rely on,” Stheno said, not losing any of her enthusiasm.

  “What’s that?”

  “Satyr blood.”

  “Satyr blood?”

  Stheno nodded. “You sliced his chin when we first took him captive, remember?”

  Hope flowed through Euryale, and her sister’s infectious smile found its way to her as well. “I do,” Euryale replied. “And it’s been plenty long enough for that scent to filter through the air.”

  “Exactly.”

  Euryale tilted her head up and sampled the air with all of her vipers. She found the trail in under two seconds. “This way, I think?”

&nb
sp; Stheno did the same, her snakes extending their tongues to the fullest in a slow, deliberate manner. “Agreed. Faint, but definitely coming from the left.”

  Off the two went, hurrying down the hall until they reached a branch in the shape of a Y. There, the two picked up on the scent once more, this time coming from the right, and off they went again. The process repeated a dozen more times, each one at a new intersection with the scent growing stronger and stronger. Ten minutes later, they found their way back to where they’d originally pounced on the satyr.

  “And here you thought spilling blood wouldn’t be helpful,” Stheno teased as they entered the study.

  “As if you needed it to be helpful,” Euryale teased back.

  “Never said I did.”

  Euryale rolled her eyes before she quietly hurried over to the door leading out to the hall. Once there, she pressed her ear against it, listening for guards.

  “I think it’s clear,” she whispered. “I bet we can climb out the back, slip through the orchard, and be long gone before they realize we’re not here anymore.”

  “Assuming Zeus’s eagle doesn’t spot us,” Stheno countered.

  Euryale frowned. Her sister was right. If he was circling the grounds, there’s no way they wouldn’t be spotted the very second they started down the wall. But that assumed, of course, the bird was still there.

  Euryale snaked her way over to one of the windows on the far wall. She kept to the side to shield herself as much as possible from those who might still be in the courtyard and dared a peek. Zeus was gone, as were most of the cyclopes. Apollo, however, now stood in the center, several yards away from his chariot while talking to a cyclops.

  “Great,” Euryale said, flopping against the wall with a heavy sigh. “Apollo’s here, too.”

  “Zeus must be calling everyone to come join the hunt.”

  “All the more reason we need to get out of here right this second,” Euryale said. She dared another glance, hoping that maybe he’d suddenly up and leave. To her horror, the moment she looked out the window, Apollo made a lazy turn where he stood and looked right at her.