Quiver

by Lisa Borne Graves

  I leaped into the air, pushing off as hard as I could, thinking only of Callie. I shot over the next two buildings, passing Anteros, who glared up at me as he stopped and focused, squinting ahead. I landed and ran to gain some speed to launch myself up again. If Anteros could see our building, he could bypass all the others. I listened intently as I launched myself again, my legs fresh and back to their full potential. I heard footsteps behind me: one set far in the distance, one closer.

  This time, I cleared five buildings, much to my surprise. I don’t remember being able to defy gravity for that long ever, but now that I had stretched my “wings,” it was almost effortless. I pushed on, thinking only of keeping Callie safe, keeping her in the dark. I had to win, not to appease my ego, as Anteros was trying to do, but to keep her safe. I couldn’t lose her or see her with someone else. The sounds behind me disappeared under the loud pounding of my accelerated heart. Love gave me power.

  A moment later, I found myself on our building’s roof, where I swung down onto my balcony, entered through my window, and raced through the hallway. Just as I approached Callie’s front door, it opened. I tried to put the brakes on, but I was going much too fast. I collided roughly with Callie, who wasn’t—bless the Fates—looking up at the time. She’d suspect something if she saw me moving down the hallway at about eighty miles an hour. I pulled Callie to me to prevent her from falling and kissed her.

  I pulled away.

  “Archer,” she gasped as I steadied her.

  Her quizzical expression put me on alert. Before I had time to invent an explanation, two figures appeared, one crashing into me while laughing hysterically and the other slowing down to a mortal pace. I hoped my body had blocked their approach from view because I wasn’t sure how to explain away superspeed.

  “He always wins,” Himerus complained, panting.

  They both looked at Callie, then quickly away, most likely unable to withstand her probing gaze. They were a little taken aback by her and suddenly very shy.

  Anteros took a step forward, and I was glad because I had no idea what to say. I didn’t want to lie, and Callie already was noting the eerie similarities between us. Her eyes shot back and forth between us rapidly.

  “Antony. I bet Archer’s never told you a thing about us, has he?” Anteros offered one hand for her to shake, while the other rested on my shoulder.

  “No, he hasn’t.” Callie was confused and, unfortunately, a little hurt as she shook his hand. Damn, the power of her eyes when she was sad almost killed me.

  “Russ.” Himerus waved awkwardly, struggling to stare at her face and not her chest.

  “Callie, these are…uh…” I began thinking of how I could word it to still be the truth “…my…well, family. My half-brothers. My parents are complicated people.”

  “I’d say.” Himerus laughed.

  “But you all look the same age,” she studied us. Too perceptive, Callie. I needed her to stop digging so deeply.

  “Same age?” Anteros, or Antony, laughed nervously.

  “Archer’s the oldest,” Russ told the truth. “But only by a year.” Okay, that was a lie, more like four years.

  “I’m the youngest by two more years,” Antony interjected. I supposed he could pass for as young as fifteen with his hair so long and shaggy. The truth was, he was about six years younger than me, but that didn’t matter now.

  “Ma and Dad weren’t exactly always faithful to one another,” I tried to explain to Callie, who still had a skeptical expression written across her face.

  “Antony is my mom’s son, and Russ is my Dad’s.” The truth came out quickly. “We’re as dysfunctional as you can get.”

  “Good to meet you, and no, he never mentioned you two at all.” She crossed her arms, a clear sign of annoyance.

  “We don’t see Archer often,” Himerus said, trying to stick up for me. They were playing their roles so well, and I had been worried they’d spoil everything. It was awfully generous of them, which was not a common occurrence when it came to those two.

  “You having a family reunion or something?” Callie asked.

  “Guess you could say that. Are you guys staying?” I asked them. It wasn’t a deliberate invite; too late, I realized it sounded like that. But they were behaving, and I could probably deal with them for a couple days rather than retract the invite and insult them.

  “Nah, we’re just pit-stopping, staying here overnight on our way overseas. Got a flight out of LaGuardia in the morning.” Anteros shuffled his foot impatiently.

  I could tell he didn’t like the probing, the questions. Callie was too curious for her own good. That was the last message I wanted sent back to Zeus.

  Russ poorly hid the fact that he was ogling her.

  “When will I meet your mother?” Callie frowned.

  “Whenever she decides to grace us with her presence?” I shrugged.

  “Good luck with that.” Russ scoffed at me, then remembering we were among mixed company, added, “She’s never around.”

  “Where were you headed?” I asked Callie, changing the subject before more questions could bombard us. One day, I would have to hire someone to act as my mother, or Callie would get even more suspicious.

  “To see you, actually. I need help with my translations.” She held up a notebook and a Greek textbook that I hadn’t noticed before.

  “Right.” I looked at the others, questioning whether we were finished with our bet. Would they leave without doing anything to Callie?

  Anteros gave me a nod, and Himerus winked at me as they said a few awkward goodbyes and headed back toward my apartment. But they had done so much, were risking so much on my behalf, that it felt rude not to say something.

  “Hey,” I said to stop them, and they turned. “Thanks for everything. I’ll see you later, and I, uh, mean it. Don’t wait so long to visit next time.” It wasn’t much, but it was something. I was trying to tell them so much in a vague statement that I was unsure if they understood what I intended. I wanted them to know that this act of charity was not lost on me, that perhaps we didn’t need to be enemies. True, I despised things about them, like Himerus’s lust and disbelief in true love, and Anteros’s rationality about matches and his cruelty in revenge for those slighted. Love shouldn’t be rational, and not every human being can have whom they desire—it all needed the delicate balance of a multitude of feelings. But I could put these differences aside if they truly supported me, if they truly wanted to protect Callie.

  “Okay.” Himerus gave me a wide and genuine grin. He understood completely.

  “See you soon, Brother.” Anteros smiled tightly, refraining from his mocking slang.

  I left them and went back into Callie’s apartment to help her with Greek homework. If she still was suspicious, she didn’t act like it, but she was holding a grudge and acting severely disappointed that I hadn’t told her I had brothers. At least this time, I could honestly answer her that I had no other siblings.

  When I got home that night, my brothers were already gone. The Charities were still hanging about, and Hymenaios hadn’t left. He awaited Lucien’s return, and the girls only stayed another day, leaving to avoid Ma’s return. I found I wished neither of them would return. I couldn’t face Lucien or my mother.

  Chapter 14Lucien

  When I arrived in Nice—the city once devoted to the victory goddess Nike—it was evening. The difference in time zones made it impossible to visit La Bibliothèque Louis Nucéra, the municipal library in Nice with one of the most impressive collections. I stayed in a clean and quaint hotel in Vieux Nice, or Old Town, with a beautiful view of Place Rossetti, the pedestrian square full of cafes, restaurants, and shops with some of the best ice cream I had ever tasted. However, my downcast mood prevented me from truly enjoying it. All I could think about, while I tossed and turned in the crisp linen sheets, was how I could break all this news to Archer. If Callie was truly Psyche’s descendant, how disturbing was this going to be for him? Or would it matter
at all? Some of us married and procreated in pretty taboo ways, yet this wasn’t too bad. If I admitted it to myself, reflected in my honest heart, he wasn’t committing any social faux pas. Callie had no blood ties to him, and it was clear they loved each other immensely.

  I hardly slept and woke up early, so I decided to walk across the Old Town to Place Garibaldi, where the library was. Although it was a good walk, I still showed up at the doors to the library as they were opening to the public.

  Immediately, I found the same records I had on the internet of Marshal Psyches, who had been left on the Grâce de Dieu church’s doorsteps, baptized on March 12th, 1571, and raised in the orphanage. I also found his death logged in 1638. I found many sources about Grâce de Dieu because the place was infamous for burning down in 1590 with the children inside. The fire that consumed a large portion of the city was one of the worst events in the city’s history and took up a lot of historical concern. I pored over a few books about the church, frustratingly reading at a mortal pace, for there were people milling about, and they’d notice rapid page turning.

  Nothing much caught my interest until the mention of a Sister Jeanne Jacques occurred frequently in one book around the years I was researching. The book mentioned a surviving journal of this nun. It was a shot in the dark but worth a try. I had an eerie feeling it would be useful, especially because the last name Jacques was ringing a bell, but I couldn’t quite place where I had heard it.

  I went back to the library to ascertain whether or not they had a copy of this journal and was told I had to make an appointment at a specific archival library. I hopped on a bus to La Bibliothèque Patrimoniale Romain Gary, not because it was far but because the bus was much quicker. I found a sweet old woman, who assisted me and took me to where the most historical records lay, but the original manuscripts were locked away, and I would have to wait until three so a curator could assist me. The woman’s face was so lined with wrinkles that I thought for a split second that maybe she had been alive the last time I was in France. Then again, my kind are not good judges of time; when time is endless, watching it so closely seems pointless.

  I couldn’t find much more information without being able to read the actual journal, so I walked around, searching for a place to get a bite to eat. I stopped at a little café, sat outside, and nibbled impatiently on a croissant. I hardly touched the coffee in front of me as I read more books about the city’s past.

  “You look deep in thought,” a strikingly familiar voice rang. I perked up; that voice subconsciously both comforted and enticed me. I glanced up at the speaker: Euterpe. She was Hymenaios’s mother, the one and only immortal true love of my life, and my ex since the Olympian days. Things never worked out for me in the love department.

  I felt a chill of guilty pleasure shoot down my spine just from beholding her beauty. I wasn’t the only one mesmerized, for the few men walking down the street all had eyes only for her. It used to drive me insane with jealousy. Staring at her beautiful form, I realized I was definitely in danger of being distracted from my self-appointed quest.

  “I am,” I replied. “Please sit.”

  Euterpe sat elegantly, all smiles.

  I grew suspicious at once. “Why are you here?”

  “Can’t I enjoy Nice? I am as surprised as you are at meeting you here. What are the chances? Aren’t you supposed to be in New York?” Her eyes wavered to the left, although she tried to hide it as being bashful. Instantly, I could tell she was lying. She never was very good at it, not that anyone could fool me.

  “I was.”

  “What brings you here?” she asked, overly disinterested.

  I couldn’t keep up the charade. “Don’t lie to me. I hate it more than anything.”

  “What makes you think I’m lying?” Her tone bordered on flirtatious.

  “Umm…the fact that our son is in New York right now and knows I’m here. Don’t act so surprised. I talked to Archer today. Zeus sent you for some ridiculous reason.” I took her hand in mine. “Euterpe, stop the pretenses. I’m the god of truth. You know you can’t lie to me and get away with it.”

  She stared at our hands for a moment, slipped hers out of mine, and then met my gaze as she said, “Our son is there waiting to see you. I hope he’s all right.”

  “Archer will look after him.”

  “Archer’s younger than Hymenaios,” she mused quietly.

  “Yes, but a bit more mature,” I began but was given a censorious glare, and then added, “well, when it comes to mortalling.”

  She swallowed her pride about our boy and then watched the mortals going about their day in the square. Compelled by some deep-seated emotion within me, I clutched her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry.”

  I had her attention again, but she didn’t squeeze my hand back. “For what?”

  “Because I’m so bad at all this.”

  Euterpe awaited more, batting those seductive eyes. How did she always do this to me? Reel me into her power with just a gaze? A toss of the hair? A shift of her posture?

  “Being a proper husband to you, a proper father to our son. I can’t…I don’t know…” I faltered, the words not coming to me.

  “The god of truth is speechless!” Euterpe’s sardonic tone mocked me. She laughed a little, tossing her silky hair flippantly.

  “Sometimes the tumult of feelings we undergo cannot be truthfully rendered in a couple of words,” I defended myself. From Euterpe’s reaction, it must have come out a little angrier than I had intended. Her face sank, and then she apologetically touched my face gently with her palm. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see her pain, her love for me—I didn’t deserve it.

  “So, why are you really here?” I asked her, trying to shift the subject off me and onto her.

  “I’m supposed to see what you’re up to.” Euterpe gave up the charade and withdrew her hand.

  “And Zeus figures I’ll have a harder time hiding things from you than anyone else? Does my father forget I can’t lie?” Except that omitting the truth that I was able to suddenly lie was, in itself, a lie.

  She shrugged. “I volunteered to come. He was going to send Hermes to spy on you.”

  “Why’d you get yourself involved, Euterpe?” I groaned. She was so innocent, so unaffected by the years. It wasn’t like her to involve herself in Zeus’s games.

  “To protect you,” she said sheepishly, avoiding my gaze.

  “After all these years, how can you still…after all I’ve done to you, how can you want to help me?”

  “You know why.”

  “I don’t deserve it.”

  “Then get your ‘buddy’ to make me love another,” she said grimly. “This is all about him, isn’t it? I overheard Zeus and Hera arguing about him.”

  “Euterpe, please, don’t get involved. Zeus’s anger is irrational, and he’s being vague. There is something strange going on, and all I’m doing is trying to figure it out.”

  “Please don’t.” Her lips trembled as she begged.

  “I can’t help it. God of truth. I need to know.”

  “Please, come with me, Api, for a little while. Come home to us?” She used my old nickname, bringing back memories of playing music together, of stolen kisses when our mothers weren’t watching and nights on Mount Olympus spent looking at the stars. She had been my first everything. Hymenaios was my father’s way to force me to marry, but I was not the marrying type. I was unfaithful to her and broke her heart on more than one occasion. It was quite difficult to maintain a relationship when your response to your wife’s inquiries about your day led you to expose exactly whose bed you’d spent it in.

  “Just come to Fiji for a little while before your father turns against you as well,” she said.

  I was torn. There she was, gorgeous and caring, her hand on my knee. I reached out to touch her face; she was so soft, so vulnerable. She would love me forever, no matter how many years I’d forsaken her, no matter how many times I’d broken her heart by saying I
didn’t reciprocate that love anymore.

  Before I realized what was going on, I had leaned across the table to kiss her. It had been almost a year since I had kissed anyone and centuries since I’d felt immortal lips. She kissed me back eagerly. I wanted more. I was all too aware of her hand creeping hesitantly up my leg, of her warm lips on mine. I didn’t have the self-control Archer somehow cultivated over centuries of celibacy…

  Archer. He was why I was here, and Callie. I had to figure out who she was and why Zeus dreaded her union with Archer. All this, those lips, her wandering hand, her entreaties to come home with her—these were pulling me away from my quest. She was a distraction. Going to Fiji with her would be exactly like turning my back on my best friend. Even if he didn’t realize it yet, Archer needed my help.

  I tore myself away from Euterpe and her beguiling lips. “Stop,” I commanded her, not daring to behold her lest my willpower would falter.

  “You won’t come, will you?” Her voice was shaky.

  I dared to look at her. Her eyes were welling up; it was almost too much to bear.

  “I can’t. Archer needs me.” It sounded so weak and pathetic of me.

  “I always keep thinking you’ll come back to us, day after day, year after year, and yet you never come. Am I foolish to still have some kind of hope that we’ll be together one day?” Her voice was hardly more than a jumble of whispers.