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

by Galen Surlak-Ramsey

  For now, at least.

  Twenty minutes into his walk, he strode into Apollo’s scrying room with a renewed sense of purpose and vigor. The pool in the center held waters as dark as Nyx’s raven hair and as still as a dead man’s breath. It was contained by rounded walls of silver, purfled with gold and platinum, and it rested on a raised pedestal of black marble. Twelve columns stood evenly spaced around and held aloft a domed ceiling large enough to house two mora of Spartan men without trouble. Four thymiaterions, all lining the back wall, burned saffron, giving the air a pleasant, sweet fragrance.

  “Everything is set if you want to start,” Apollo said. The god stood on the opposite side of the pool with Euryale’s letter in hand.

  “More so than ever,” Zeus replied, quickly stepping over to him.

  “Before we do, would you indulge my curiosity?”

  Zeus tilted his head. “About Athena?”

  Apollo nodded. “About Athena.”

  “And will you indulge my curiosity as to why this matters to you at this moment?” Zeus countered, his tone holding a sharp edge to it.

  Apollo nodded again. “I only ask because others will want to know where she is, and I feel that I should know how you want to handle this before I’m forced to answer questions.”

  Zeus smiled and laughed at himself. “Forgive me, then, for being on edge,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s locked away and in good health. We even spoke before I left her.”

  “About?”

  To that question, Zeus initially pressed his lips together into a fine line, but in the end, he realized it was a natural question, and it wasn’t as if Apollo hadn’t been privy to much already. “The same,” he replied. “She still sides with the gorgon.”

  “I see,” Apollo replied. “I’d hoped things would have turned out differently.”

  “In regard to her or me?”

  “In regard to all of us,” Apollo said. He then quickly added right as Zeus was about to reply. “I do not like the strife. It should never have had a home in Olympus. And yes, I understand no decision comes easy here. Sacrifices must be made.”

  “Indeed,” Zeus said, hints of skepticism in his voice.

  “If I may remind you,” Apollo said, clearly sensing the tension that was forming between them. “I’ve made my oaths to you already, binding ones at that. I’ve long since learned my lesson on challenging your reign.”

  Those words helped Zeus relax. Yes, Apollo had tried to overthrow him long ago, and to some degree, Zeus understood why. They were all young. They all wanted power, and indeed, Zeus had shown weakness and recklessness. It was only natural then that some would seize the moment. But when he proved to be the victor, as Apollo had stated, the God of Prophecy had made oaths to never challenge the throne as long as Zeus sat upon it. He was no threat. “You have made vows, and I appreciate your support,” Zeus said. “Now then, unless you have another matter of dire consequence, I want to see what Euryale is planning.”

  Chapter From Death to Dark

  “Will she be hard to find?” Stheno asked, leaning forward in the chariot, eyes trying to pierce the eternal gloom before them.

  “I don’t know,” Euryale replied. The pair were racing across the open, shadowy waters that led to Nyx’s domain with their chariot, and she had a sinking feeling that the meeting with this goddess would be even less cordial than the one they’d had with Achlys.

  “Do you think she’ll help?”

  “I don’t know that, either,” Euryale said. “I hope, but…” The gorgon’s heart sank as the consequences of failure weighed on her soul.

  Stheno slipped her arm across Euryale’s shoulders. “We’re getting that flower,” she said. “You’ll see.”

  “I know.”

  Stheno laughed and squeezed her. “You’re a terrible liar when it comes to speaking with me. Always have been.”

  The moment of levity put a smile on Euryale’s face. She bumped her hip into her sister and pulled away. “I am a wonderful liar, thank you very much. I learned from the best.”

  “Learned? Learned! Are you kidding me?” Stheno replied, looking more shocked than one of Medusa’s victims. “Remember when you tried testing the stickiness of your homemade Greek fire and burned down our stables?”

  “I do, and it was for science. I had to know if I got the mixture right.”

  “Science. That’s the story you’re going with now.”

  “You’re the one always saying we don’t push ourselves enough. So yes, I’m going with it was for science.”

  Stheno smirked. “Does that science also include you trying to blame your little mishap on me?”

  Euryale threw her sister a sheepish look. “That…well, that was also for science.”

  “Remember that part earlier when I said you’re a terrible liar?” Stheno asked. “Case in point: this conversation.”

  “I’m not lying,” Euryale said, pulling on the reins to correct their course as their horses decided to veer. “I’m merely clarifying misunderstood intentions. Nothing more.”

  “Well, don’t let me stop you from digging your own grave,” Stheno said. “Go on. Explain to your dumb older sister how any of that was for science.”

  “I was testing the hypothesis that the powers of an adorable ten-year-old daughter were strong enough to float a minor bend of the truth when it came to having Dad believe what happened, despite evidence pointing to the contrary.”

  “Minor?”

  “I wouldn’t call it major, that’s for certain,” Euryale replied. “I barely had any soot on me.”

  “Regardless of what you’d call it, it’s a good thing Dad didn’t fall for any of it,” Stheno said. “Because if I’d ended up taking the blame, by the time I got done with you, you’d be begging to swim the River Acheron.”

  “Still doesn’t make me a bad liar,” Euryale said, doubling down, even though she knew it was a lost cause. She couldn’t lie worth a damn when it came to Stheno. She always saw right through her. But it was fun to have the banter, nonetheless.

  “You keep believing that. I don’t want you to get better, anyway,” Stheno said. “Makes life easier.”

  The conversation died as the faintest outline of something appeared in the distant gloom. Though Euryale had never traveled to Nyx’s home on her own, her first and only trip being made while she was dead, her gut told her this was where she wanted to be. Thus, she made another slight course correction and drove the chariot toward the mass.

  As they made their way toward it, Stheno’s anticipation at meeting Nyx grew even stronger. She clutched the sides of the chariot, her nails digging deep into the sides, and she leaned forward to such a degree, it seemed as if the only reason she didn’t fall out was due to an intervention of the Fates.

  “Could you lean back a little?” Euryale asked with a flutter in her voice. She reached out and tugged her sister’s shoulder. “I’m on edge enough as it is.”

  Stheno shrugged her off. “You’re lucky I’m not leaping out of this.”

  “I don’t think you realize exactly who we’re going to see,” Euryale said.

  Stheno laughed. “On the contrary. I know exactly who we’re going to see.”

  The gorgon shook her head, and as memories of Nyx resurfaced, she could feel her gut tighten. “No, I mean, Nyx is—” Euryale sighed. “Nyx is like nothing I can describe. She’s like the most beautiful nightmare you could never hope to dream on your own.”

  Stheno let loose an impressive whistle. “All the more reason why I want to meet her—why I have to meet her.”

  Euryale stiffened at the unexpected reply. “Have to meet her?”

  The gorgon nodded and kept her gaze out to the approaching island. Her voice grew soft, but the tone to her words felt heavy. “I don’t want us to be like this anymore,” she said. “Meeting Achlys only drove that home.”

  “Like what?”

  “This,” she said, gesturing to her body. “Weak and disregarded.”

&n
bsp; “We’re hardly weak.”

  “We are when it matters most,” Stheno said, her shoulders falling. “We couldn’t stop Poseidon from defiling Medusa. We couldn’t stand up to Athena when she punished us all for standing up to him or protect Medusa from Perseus. And today with Achlys? We might as well have been mice picking a fight with a lion.”

  Euryale couldn’t argue Stheno’s point. Even if Typhon had made her curse more terrible, and even if Cronus had hardened it further, others could still best her—break her.

  “I don’t think anyone can stand up to Achlys,” she finally said, as much for her own sake as Stheno’s. “Even Cronus.”

  Stheno snorted with disgust. “I refuse to accept that.”

  “If we do, it will be to our own downfall. Some things will never change.”

  “And things will always remain the same unless we try to make things different,” she countered. “Why are you being like this? We used to dream about rising to power and crushing our foes beneath our heels.”

  Euryale thought about her sister’s words as she brought the chariot down. She landed it on a large open cliff that spanned several dozen yards. Far beneath them and obscured by darkness, waves crashed loudly with unbridled fury, a constant sound the gorgon was able to lose herself in for a while.

  “I’m terrible enough as it is,” she finally said, even if that was only a partial answer. “The world doesn’t need a monster like me walking around with limitless power.”

  Stheno laughed with disbelief. “No, Euryale. That’s exactly what this world needs,” she said. “It needs the strong to take charge, and that can be us! You and me! The River of Chaos is said to grant powers we couldn’t even begin to imagine—”

  “Assuming they don’t rip you apart, first,” Euryale said with a smirk. “You conveniently left that part out.”

  “But if we could harness that power…” Stheno’s voice trailed, and she sighed longingly. “Think about it, Euryale. What if we could take it, even a little bit. We’d be like the eldest gods, Aion and Nyx, Erebus and the Moirae. Respected. Feared. Utterly unstoppable. By the Fates, you’d never have to worry about your children ever again. Or Alex. Or me…”

  “I know,” Euryale said as she slipped off the chariot. The ground felt cold against her tail, and there was a bitterness to the air that she hadn’t remembered when she was here before. What that meant, she didn’t know, but for some reason, the scent triggered a moment of insight. “Honestly, it terrifies me that we could ever be that strong.”

  “Terrifies?” Stheno repeated. “Why?”

  “Imagine the damage we can do,” Euryale said. “The lives and families we might tear apart if we’re careless or cruel. I don’t think I can handle that responsibility.”

  Stheno made a sweeping gesture. “Look around. This place, the earth, Hades, all of it is cruel and rips people apart already. It doesn’t respect kindness. It doesn’t grant mercy to the weak. Men. Animals. Gods. Nature. It’s the same for everyone. The strong rule, and the weak only survive as much as they’re tolerated.”

  “Believe me. I know all of that already.”

  “Then don’t get cold feet on me,” Stheno said. “Or a cold tail, as the case may be. You and I, we’re going to save Cassandra. We’re going to chop down Zeus at the knees, and we’re going to set this world right. You and I.”

  A soft, refined voice joined the conversation, one that came from everywhere and nowhere and chilled Euryale’s soul to the core. “That’s a lot of boasting, pet. Pray tell, how will you accomplish such things after I’ve shattered your mind and put you both in eternal chains?”

  Euryale slowly turned to find Nyx standing a few paces away. Her black eyes seemed to stare straight through the gorgon, and the robes she wore felt ten times darker than they had the last time Euryale had seen her. The goddess, with her flawless creamy skin and high cheekbones, still could command every living being with her unparalleled beauty alone, but the air around her felt sinister, and the gloomy mist swirling around her body and head seemed as if it carried a legion of nightmares.

  “I need your help,” Euryale said, managing to scramble forward with a combination of nerves and desperation.

  Nyx pursed her lips and dropped her brow. “Oh, pet,” she said, raising her hand. “Where are your manners?”

  Euryale froze as fast as her heart stopped beating in her chest. “Please.”

  “Not even a thank you,” Nyx said with the utter look of disappointment in her eyes. “I suppose I am the foolish one, then, thinking you might not be like the others who simply take, take, take.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Quiet!” said Nyx as her black wings shot open. Though Euryale remained statuesque, Stheno did not. She shifted her weight a few times on her legs, and her hands tightened on her spear. Neither action was lost on the goddess.

  “Feeling inadequate, Stheno?” Nyx said, folding her wings back and casually strolling up to her. “Are you going to strike me down with that paltry spear of yours?”

  “No, she’s not,” Euryale said.

  Nyx held up a finger. “She’s capable of answering on her own.”

  “I’m capable of a lot more than that,” Stheno said, hardening her face and growling.

  “Are you, now? How charming,” she replied. “Why don’t we continue this somewhere better suited for conversation?”

  Before either gorgon could reply, the ground shifted and turned to liquid before coiling up each one’s body.

  Wind assaulted Euryale from all sides, blasting her face and thundering in her ears. Somewhere in the chaos she heard Stheno yell, and then both she and Stheno ended up at the top of a large dune with a pale desert stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction. Twinkling stars shined down from above, while Nyx still stood a few feet away, casually scanning the area.

  “Too dry?” Nyx asked, mostly to herself as she placed her arms on her hips and frowned. “Too dry.”

  The scene swirled and dissolved, and Euryale fought to keep her balance in an ever-changing blur of color that surrounded her. Then, with a pop, she dropped into the seat of a large, high-backed chair made of cherry. Sprawled out in front of her on a table large enough to cover a small country was a feast composed of meats, cheeses, bread, and fruits. Candles on the table and braziers lining the walls provided illumination to the hall they were in, a hall that had countless tapestries and banners hanging from the arched ceiling and twice as many exits filled with fog.

  Nyx, who sat across from Euryale, nodded approvingly. “Much better, wouldn’t you agree? I’m feeling peckish, as it were.” When Euryale said nothing, Nyx gave a quiet laugh. “You may answer, pet. I’m finished.”

  “Yes, this is better,” she said.

  Nyx motioned to the food. “Take what you like. I won’t eat it all.”

  Stheno caught Euryale’s eye, and the two hesitated, but Stheno acted first. She reached over and tore off a roasted turkey leg. Going by the juices coming from it, the thing tasted delicious. Going by the heavenly look in Stheno’s eyes when she took a bite, the leg actually tasted divine. “Gods, this is good,” she said after chewing and swallowing. She stopped and straightened, however, when a thought dawned on her. “What do we owe you for your hospitality?”

  “Manners, gorgon,” she replied, taking a sip of wine from a nearby goblet. “You owe me your manners.” Nyx glared at Euryale. “And you still owe me your undying gratitude.”

  “Thank you,” Euryale said. “I do owe you more than I can repay for being restored.”

  Nyx raised her goblet and nodded. “There, pet. Was that so hard? Perhaps if you’d done so before you’d left the first time, this wouldn’t be your last meal.”

  Euryale sucked in a breath and felt herself shrink in the chair. But as quick as that feeling came, she pushed it away. Stheno was right. The feeling of being helpless and disregarded as anyone of note was not anything she wanted to bear any longer. “This will not be our last meal,” Euryal
e said, voice strong and posture stronger.

  Nyx tilted her head. “Are you challenging me?”

  “No,” Euryale said. “But heaping misery upon one’s guests is hardly polite behavior.”

  “Guest?” Nyx repeated, sounding amused. “Is that what you are now? Here I thought you were trespassers. I seem to have forgotten I sent you an invitation.”

  “No, but we did bring you a gift.”

  Nyx leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs as she gently placed her hands in her lap. “Did you, now? It’s not another dead gorgon, is it?”

  “We brought conversation,” Euryale replied.

  “You think that interests me?”

  The gorgon nodded. “I do,” she said. “Power doesn’t impress you, nor abilities, nor artifacts. You can create anything you want, but gracious company and stimulating talk are not things anyone can craft. They have to be given freely by others, lest they are nothing more than hollow gestures.”

  “And how much time, pet, do you plan on gracing me with this company and talk of yours? Your thoughts call to me, thoughts of a daughter you’re desperate to save. What can you possibly do to entertain me while you long to be somewhere else?”

  Euryale drew in a long, deep breath, knowing Nyx was right. Every second she sat there, she fought against every fiber of her being that screamed at her to get moving, to find the flower, and get back to Olympus. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me,” Euryale said. “That would be the polite thing to do.”

  “It would be, wouldn’t it?” Nyx said. “And if we find each other agreeable, who knows how many hours will stretch into how many days or even years. Eons, even. I will admit, gorgon, I’m curious if there’s anything you could teach me. Skeptical, but curious, nevertheless. Perhaps we’ll find uncharted waters given enough time. Why don’t you start by telling me about yourself?”