“Absolutely.”
“They wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t they?”
Galene looked to Iyana for backup, but she bit her lip, feeling sick. She glanced around, then leaned toward Galene, lowering her voice.
“Demitri has been telling me for a while that the Olympians consider us a threat. He thinks they’re worried we’ll draw away those who worship them. That’s the reason why we rarely get to train with the actual Olympians, or any other skillful warriors. I haven’t been believing it, not really, but after what we saw today, well…” Galene started to protest, but Iyana hurried on. “It’s just hard to believe that you would get all three of the hardest beasts when you already had to take the Trial early. They didn’t seem surprised, and they didn’t even stop it when you were bitten.”
A mixture of anger, fear, and hurt swam in her friend’s eyes. “You two are starting to sound like Chrysander.”
Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but a pang went through Iyana’s chest. Galene didn’t normally talk about her brother. She used to be close to him, but he’d left Mount Olympus years ago.
Demitri shifted. “Sometimes I think your brother had the right idea.”
Iyana shot him a warning look, but he ignored her.
“Don’t say that.” Galene pressed her hands to her temples.
“Why not?”
“I know you two were best friends, but my brother nearly committed treason for his crazy ideas.”
“Maybe they weren’t so crazy.”
“Excuse me?” Galene narrowed her eyes at him. “Gathering the exiled? Open rebellion?”
“I thought he was crazy then, too, but look at what the Olympians have done to you. I’m starting to think he was right.”
“No,” Iyana snapped, rising to Galene’s defense. “That’s too far. Chrysander wanted to rally the most wicked of gods and goddesses. They were exiled for good reasons.”
“There’s got to be something better than this,” Demitri muttered.
“Do you really think Chrysander found something better, Demitri?” Golden heat had risen to Galene’s cheeks. “Out there alone, never worshipped, never able to return?”
Chrysander had broken one of the most important laws of Mount Olympus, deserting the mountain before his Immortality Trial. The consequences of leaving without an Immortal escort had sentenced him to a life as an outcast.
Demitri opened his mouth to argue more, but Iyana caught his arm. “She doesn’t need this right now.”
He shrugged, but Iyana could tell he wasn’t satisfied.
Galene slumped back against her pillows, getting a faraway look in her eye that only appeared when she wanted to be alone.
“We’ll let you rest.” Iyana leaned forward to give Galene a gentle hug. “I can come back when you’re ready for more company.”
Galene nodded distantly, and Iyana eased herself off the bed, leading Demitri away. She paused at the door, looking back. “No one would have done better. You’re a hero, and I love you.” She blew Galene a kiss and closed the door softly behind her.
They were silent as they left the infirmary. Dusk bathed the mountainside in golden light as they walked down the path toward the Upper Common Temple. Anxiety continued to twist Iyana’s stomach, and once again, the wind responded to her feelings, whipping around them. Demitri caught her hand, pulling her up short by Persephone’s gardens.
“What’s on your mind?”
She smiled ruefully. “What isn’t?”
“Something specific is bothering you.” His piercing eyes studied her. “Is it your upcoming Trial?”
She nodded, throat tight, thinking of what Kostas had said. “I’m not as powerful as Galene, but I don’t think the Olympians believe that. If they stacked the Decks of Fates against her, they’re going to stack it against me, too.”
“Yes,” he agreed, not bothering to sugarcoat reality.
Her anxiety mounted. “As the daughter of Zeus, they’ll probably make it just as hard. But I have such limited control over wind. I can’t even fly!”
“If you could get the wind to guide your throwing spikes, that could increase your chances—”
“Demitri, my Immortality Trial is in three months. I don’t have the control, or the time.” Panic squeezed her throat tight. “What if … what if I don’t even walk out of there? Telamon didn’t.”
“Listen to me, Iyana.” Demitri grasped her shoulders. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
“You can’t interfere.”
“But I can teach you survival tricks. The Olympians haven’t let a Trial end in death since Telamon, and it’s been a few years now. If you can’t defeat the beast, they will stop the Trial eventually and kill it for you. You just need to stay out of its way.”
She blinked against the tears that threatened to rise again. “None of this is fair.”
He pulled her against him and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I know. It’s not.”
4
GALENE
The sun had hidden itself beneath the horizon hours ago. Lit torches in various temple grounds offered the only sources of light to guide Galene’s way.
She breathed shallowly, holding her side. With careful footsteps, she made her way toward the outskirts of Olympus, taking smaller paths that wound to the Northeastern slope. The scattered temples of lesser Immortals were quiet with sleep, and she saw no one.
Feeling a little more secure, she pushed through the pain and walked faster. It was a trek from the infirmary to where she was headed, but she had an appointment to keep.
She wasn’t looking forward to it. After every meeting, she left angry and resentful. Still, she always went back. How could she not? He was family.
Cutting through an ancient olive orchard of Athena’s, she left the path, slipping into the trees and passing a small lake that marked she was close to the border of Olympus. There would be guards patrolling nearby, but Galene knew their routine and where to hide.
Between two of the boundary line towers within the growing wilderness of trees was a large, leafy bush. Galene wrestled her way through the thick branches until she broke through to a tight, empty pocket within. The shimmering, magical barrier that ran between the towers cut the hollow bush in half. On the other side, two sea-green eyes gleamed at her. She felt a rise of anger, of resignation, at the sight of him.
“So?” the young god’s voice inquired, forgoing any greeting. His voice was muffled through the barrier.
She closed her eyes. “I failed.”
There was silence, then, “Tell me everything.”
Galene relayed the events in the arena, the dark figure across from her listening to it all. She felt sick as she spoke. She’d intended to tell him of her success, a bitter part of her wanting to show him what he’d missed out on by leaving. Instead, she admitted her failure. She waited for his reply, but he remained quiet. “Chrysander?” she urged, though unsure she wanted to hear his thoughts.
“I told you not to even take the Trial, Galene,” he said, clearly trying to keep quiet. “I told you what could happen. Scylla, Cetus, and the Gryphiekin? That’s not fate, Galene, that’s trickery. The Olympians, our father, tampered with those cards to set you up. You’re far too powerful for their liking, everyone knows it. I can’t believe—”
“Please, stop, Chrysander, I just had to listen to all of this from Demitri.”
Her brother was silent for a moment. “I knew he’d see through the Olympians eventually. He should have come with me. Still could. The same goes for you, sister.”
“I’m not like you,” she ground out. “I won’t betray our leaders or abandon my home.” Normally, she could keep her anger with him in check. Not tonight, not after the opportunity to overcome his legacy had slipped through her fingers.
“But everything I’m saying is true, Galene, can’t you see it?”
“No!” she snapped, then paused, checking her volume. “I have been blessed with a great ability,
so clearly the Fates believe I should be more prepared, more in control of it before I can become a deity. I won’t fail next time.”
“In ten years,” he reminded her. “And what makes you so sure they won’t just give you something even worse to fight?”
Galene gave a dry chuckle. “I don’t think there is a worse combination to get.”
“You know that I left hoping to one day change bigoted traditions like the Immortality Trials.”
“The Trials bring order,” she protested. “Not just anyone should be able to influence the lives of the humans. Why do you think we have such a strict law about who crosses the border?” It was the simplest and most exacting of all Olympian rules: If you left before you were granted immortality, the consequence was exile. And the exiled were forbidden from going near humans, under threat of death. “There has to be some sort of test to prove that you can protect and lead the humans before you can contact them.”
“So you’re supporting the Olympians? You really think your ability to slay a ridiculously overpowered monster—one that’s not even real—should determine whether the humans should know and worship you?” he challenged.
Galene clenched her teeth. “Maybe not. But your leaving didn’t do anything except make my life harder. So what good have you done?” She didn’t give him a chance to defend himself. “The Olympians banished the Titans and organized chaos. They know what they’re doing. We should trust their wisdom and be grateful for their guidance.”
“Guidance? Galene, how have any of them helped you in your life? What have they done but try to keep you down?”
“They’re trying to make me strong.”
“You are strong!” He let out a breath and leaned away. “Maybe it is for the best, then. Maybe now you’ll finally start to see.”
A cool fury enveloped her. “You’re glad this happened? That I failed, that I still have to suffer your shame as my own?”
“I’m trying to fight for something better, can’t you see that? If I had to exile myself for the cause, so be it. I’m sorry you got caught in the crossfire, but I wouldn’t take it back.”
Her anger slid down into grief as she thought of the biggest thing he had lost. “But you’ll die,” Galene whispered. She had never cried so hard in her life as the day he left three years ago. Choosing to leave Olympus before his Immortality Trial had ensured that he would die within the infancy of her own immortality.
“Perhaps,” he replied. Galene blinked at the odd response. “But I have never felt more free, and isn’t freedom more important than eternal life?”
She didn’t answer. They were silent for a long moment, long enough for Chrysander to pull a few drops of water from the earth, staring into the small pool he created with his power. Galene nudged the water with her gift, making it ripple back and forth. They’d often played together like this as children, but that was long in the past.
“I’m not the only one who feels this way, either, Galene.”
“A few rebel fanatics don’t help prove your point.”
“There’s more than just a few of us out here.”
She scoffed. “How many, then? Ten? Twelve?”
He scowled. “Over fifty now, actually. With more coming to our banner every day. With what’s happening next, we’ll soon have hundreds. Maybe thousands.”
Galene frowned. “Your banner? Chrysander, what are you talking about?”
“Why don’t you come and see for yourself?”
She sighed, suddenly incredibly tired. “No, Chrysander. This is my home, my family.”
“Am I not your family anymore?”
Galene bit her lip. “I love you, brother, and I wish you’d never left. But once I get my immortality, I’ll be free to leave Olympus without escort, and I can come and visit you whenever I like. We can see the world together. All of the oceans and seas, like we used to talk about.”
He gave a short, warm laugh. “In ten years, if all goes according to plan, we’ll have already done all of that.”
Galene’s heart skipped a beat. “According to plan?”
“I already told you, Galene, come see for yourself. I can’t risk telling you here, not when you refuse to see the truth.”
She shook her head. “What you’re saying isn’t truth.”
“Only time will tell who’s right. But if you do change your mind, little sister…” He shuffled forward slightly. With her eyes now adjusted to the dark, she could make out the faint copper and gold streaks in the hair that mirrored hers, their waves falling down across his brow. He raised a hand up close to the border and Galene copied him, their skin tones matching perfectly, her hand only slightly smaller than his. “… you can find us in the heart of the Land of the Taraxippi.”
A primal warning flashed through her. “The Land of the Taraxippi? Chrysander, that place is dangerous!”
“Not for us. We’ve claimed territory there, where no one will bother us. Galene, come and see. You could help right all of this mess. You have no idea what good you could do.”
Galene opened her mouth, words faltering.
Three short horn blasts echoed faintly across Olympus.
She whipped around, but could see nothing through the thick foliage.
Another warning call, this one louder.
“Sounds like trouble,” Chrysander muttered.
“I have to go,” Galene said, turning. “Fates be kind to you, brother.”
“Stay safe, Galene. You know where I’ll be.”
5
BRAXTUS
Braxtus yawned widely, then pinched himself.
Night watch is the worst, he thought as he reached a tower, turning around to pace back the other way. He tripped over a loose rock in the grass and grumbled under his breath.
Normally he didn’t mind guarding the boundary—but normally he was scheduled during the day, when he had a nice view of the mountainside. During the day, he’d actually reported beasts and humans wandering a little too close.
At night you couldn’t see much. A fire glowed softly at the top of each tower that ringed the boundary line, but even that light only stretched so far down the mountain, doing little more than making the translucent, magical barrier that ran between the towers glimmer slightly. Tonight’s moon was dark, which made Braxtus’s vision all the worse, and he’d been prohibited from lighting his own fire.
On top of that, he was exhausted. With the excitement of Galene’s Immortality Trial, he hadn’t bothered to nap before his shift. Now he was paying for it.
His eyes fluttered, and he pinched himself again. If he didn’t pay attention, he could wander straight through the barrier instead of alongside it, and it would seal behind him forever.
Braxtus had passed through the barrier a few times, but always supervised. When his father, Apollo, needed to answer prayers in person, he’d occasionally brought Braxtus on excursions to Megara and Eretria—two of the human cities that primarily worshipped his father. Braxtus was really hoping Apollo would take him to Sparta soon, but his father had grown distant lately, and it’d been months since Braxtus had left Mount Olympus at all.
In a couple of years you’ll pass your Immortality Trial, he reminded himself. Then you can explore as much as you wish.
Careful to stay well away from the barrier, he picked up his pace, hoping that would drive back his exhaustion.
A shout cut through the night.
Braxtus stopped, squinting up the mountainside. It’s bound to be Leander up with too much wine. Still, he waited a moment.
Light beamed near the arena, powerful and golden, then faded away.
What on Gaia was that?
Another shout, sounding surprised and angry. More golden light flared to life, then disappeared.
Braxtus hesitated, unsure whether to leave his post. Does Diantha see this? He looked up at the closest tower. The head deity on guard duty was leaning out to get a better look.
Braxtus finally made sense of the shouting as it rose in pitch an
d volume. “Backup! Help!”
His heart leapt to his throat.
“Guards, go!” Diantha yelled to the scattered gods below her. Braxtus unsheathed his sword and took off running, shield thudding against his back. To either side of him, other guards along the boundary rushed to join.
Light flared up again, so bright it left spots behind in his vision as he ran, circling the arena to get to the far side. The shouting cut short, and he pumped his legs faster.
Only to grind to a halt, his heart stopping.
Before him, uncurling from the ground, were dozens of monstrous beasts.
Light twisted around their legs, wings, snouts, showing him their deadly features with painstaking detail before fading as the creatures solidified, one by one. A few loose cards scattered along the ground between the beasts, glimmering with gold.
Someone had created monsters from the Decks of Fates.
The creature closest to him lurched to its feet, and Braxtus stumbled back a step as all three heads towered above him, eyes coating its entire body.
Heads of Cerberus, horns of a satyr, eyes of Argus. He listed the characteristics in his head, dumbfounded.
Four other guards ran around the side of the arena to join Braxtus. “Kronos!” one of them cursed.
The three-headed dog before them snarled, wheeling their way, and other solidifying beasts looked up. Braxtus leveled his sword, adrenaline coursing through his body as he flicked his eyes between each of them. A ghostlike drakon, an enormous silver fox, and a few others launched themselves toward the summit. A half-woman, half-snake with crab arms slid down toward the boundary line.
“Cut that thing off!” Diantha ran up, shouting at two of the guards. “Don’t let it cross the boundary line! Unnamed, raise the alarm!” And with that, Diantha threw herself at the hundred-eyed canine. Two other guards rushed to Diantha’s aid, the others sprinting for the snake woman.
Raise the alarm. Braxtus took off toward the arena entrance, weaving between the snarling monsters. A centaur with a scorpion tail reeled into his path, eyes rolling, but Braxtus drove his sword into its leg. It howled, and he yanked his weapon free, trying to push onward, but the centaur swung at him. Braxtus leapt to the side, but his foot caught on something heavy, and he went sprawling. He rolled and raised his sword in defense, but another charged in to engage the beast.
The Immortal Game Page 3
