The Immortal Game

by Talia Rothschild

  Demitri didn’t even look at his mother, still glowering fiercely at Zeus. “Why? Are you genuinely asking? Do you need me to spell it out for you?”

  “Zeus—” Hera started, but Zeus gestured for Demitri to go on.

  “In the name of fate, you’ve stacked the Trials to prevent those with real power or ability from gaining immortality or status.”

  “You stacked Galene’s Trial,” Demeter protested.

  Demitri let out a bark of dry laughter, no real humor in his face. “Stop feigning innocence. I did nothing of the sort. I just capitalized on your continued tyranny.”

  A few Olympians shifted uncomfortably, and Braxtus glanced at Galene. Confusion and distrust battled on her face.

  “You have denied your children, your kin, proper mentors to prepare for the Immortality Trials,” Demitri continued, starting to twist in Apollo’s grip. Apollo snarled a warning, but he ignored him, rage bright in his eyes. “Which, by the way, are absurd. Why should every god have to showcase battle-prowess to prove they’re worthy of aiding the humans?”

  “I think that’s enough,” Artemis snapped, but Braxtus read the uneasiness spreading over many of their faces.

  “You have unjustly exiled hundreds of gods and goddesses over the years.” Demitri’s voice raised to a shout, and he twisted more furiously. “Then you hunted and killed those who dared interact with humans. All to keep a threat to your thrones at bay.”

  Apollo lifted him clean off his feet to stop him from charging the gods. “One day, the world will stop bowing to you!” Demitri bellowed. “One day they’ll all fight back!”

  A blinding white beam of light erupted from the end of Hera’s raised scepter, streaking to Demitri and hitting him square in the chest.

  An expression of horror froze on his face, and Apollo dropped him.

  By the time he hit the dirt, the life had vanished from those cutting blue eyes.

  Galene let out a strangled sound that rang loud in the sudden silence. Iyana’s arm dropped from around Braxtus’s waist and she jerked half a step forward before freezing. Her face was white as she stared at Demitri’s corpse.

  Conflicting emotions warred inside Braxtus—shock that Demitri was gone, understanding for his argument, sadness for Iyana, confusion with where it left them, when, even though she’d kissed him, there was such pain in her eyes …

  He shifted his gaze to the surrounding Olympians.

  Anger left two golden spots on Hera’s cheeks. She lowered her scepter slowly. Beside her, Zeus’s expression was astounded, and a few silent tears ran down Aphrodite’s face.

  Hera let out a breath, sweeping her brown hair back from her shoulders. “It needed to be done. He was at the root of this disgusting rebellion.”

  “Good riddance,” Dionysus spat in agreement. “The madman was responsible for the entire attack.”

  Iyana sucked in a quiet breath, and all of Braxtus’s mixed emotions morphed into fury that seized him in a tight grip.

  “Congratulations,” he growled. “One more voice is silenced, to your advantage.”

  “Excuse me?” Hera said slowly, turning on him.

  He met her cold eyes. “That’s your history isn’t it? Silencing, overriding voices like Chrysander, Iyana, Demitri—”

  “Braxtus,” Apollo barked. A few Olympians hissed, others simply gaped at his nerve. Iyana looked up at him, a flash of surprise widening her eyes.

  “You’re using Demitri as a scapegoat for your own offenses. Demitri—bastard that he was—was the by-product of your own oppression.”

  “You did stack my Trial against me, didn’t you?” Galene asked, eyes on her father. “I thought it was Demitri, but…”

  Poseidon wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  Disgust filled Braxtus, but Galene just shook her head, sadness and exhaustion etched on her face. “I had so much faith in you. Even when you exiled me, I defended you.” She paused. “Maybe that’s the irony. Maybe in the silence of Demitri’s death you’ll finally hear what so many have tried to say.”

  Zeus looked between the three of them.

  “The rage of so many brought an army to Olympus,” Aphrodite murmured to him. “We have not ruled the way we pledged.”

  A lingering pause. Iyana turned her gaze back on Demitri’s body and stood still as a statue.

  “Clean up this battlefield,” Zeus finally said in a low voice. “Get the injured to the infirmary and surrounding temples. We will discuss this in depth later.”

  One by one, the Olympians dispersed.

  Braxtus, Galene, and Iyana didn’t move for a long time, standing in the silence that stretched far beyond Demitri’s corpse, all the way across the bloodstained battlefield.

  55

  IYANA

  The infirmary bustled with healers, rushing from room to room.

  Iyana slipped by them, scrubbed clean and well rested, dressed in a new tunic with her hair spilling over her shoulder. She hugged a bouquet of perfect, golden flowers to her chest as she squeezed between a cart and a healer. Turning the corner, she reached a door and opened it just a crack, peeking inside.

  Sunlight flooded through the window into the private room. Braxtus lay on top of the bed linens, leg bandaged tightly, brow furrowed as he read a scroll.

  “You trimmed your beard.”

  His face lit up as he looked toward the door, dropping the scroll. “Iyana!”

  She let herself in, smiling at his enthusiasm, then placed the flowers on the bedside table. “I thought these would brighten your room.”

  “You’ve already done that.”

  Her cheeks warmed, but her smile grew bigger. She sat down on the stool by his bed and nodded to his leg. “Is the pain bad?”

  He glanced down at it. “It could be worse, all things considered. It’s the same damn leg I fell on when the Gryphiekin dropped me. I’ll have quite the scar, but they say it’ll be another full recovery.” He shook his head. “They’re only keeping me in a private room to see if there were any lingering effects of being trapped in the avyssos. Turns out they hadn’t ever bothered to pull anything out, so Ares, Artemis, and I are under close watch.”

  It wasn’t hard to believe, considering the size of that army. “What was it like, trapped in there?”

  He rubbed his beard. “Cold. Empty. Dark. It feels like a dream now.”

  Dreams. A shudder ran down Iyana’s spine, and her eyes fell back to his leg. “Demitri did that to you, didn’t he?”

  Braxtus nodded slowly. “What happened?” he asked. “I mean, Kostas told me about Beast Maker and how Galene ended up with the avyssos, but you … how did you find us? How did you beat him?”

  She tugged at the end of her hair. “Athena sent me to try to get the avyssos because she couldn’t risk losing anyone else. And I figured I had to try. And then Demitri was there, and I just … snapped.” She closed her eyes. “I fought him, and he was angry, and he told me he’d killed you. And I … I…” How could she put into words how she felt, what had happened? “I almost killed him, Braxtus. I was so close.”

  His warm, rough hand enveloped hers. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, pain and uncertainty in his gaze.

  “I didn’t kill him, though. Because we needed him to testify to the Olympians. But also because…” She faltered, then swallowed. “I didn’t want it to be my hate and vengeance that brought him down. I wouldn’t have wanted to live with that. So I decided to let it be the Olympians’ judgment instead.”

  Braxtus searched her face long and hard. Then, expelling a breath, he released her hand. “Iyana, we can’t do this.”

  Fear twisted inside of her at his words. “What do you mean?”

  “You and I. Not yet, anyway.”

  The fear twisted harder. “What? Are you suddenly doubting how I feel about you? Gaia, if you knew what it felt like when I thought he’d killed you—”

  He let out a strained, dry chuckle. “I know you have feelings for me. The way you kissed me after the b
attle said it all.”

  “Then is it your feelings?”

  He groaned. “No. I told you I love you, and I meant it.” He laced his fingers together, muscles straining, as though trying to resist reaching for her. “But I saw the look on your face when you watched Demitri die. You loved him.”

  Iyana sucked in a breath. “I loved who I thought he was. I loved a fantasy. I don’t even know how much of those feelings were even real now.”

  He took a moment, formulating his next words. “I just want to be sure I’m not pressuring you into something you’re not ready for. It’s not fair of me. You need time to heal. Take it. I’ll be here.”

  Despite the earnestness in his expression, despite his obvious good intentions, Iyana felt a sudden spike of temper.

  She stood up and leaned over the bed. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  Surprise crossed his face.

  “I’ve had enough of being told what I can and can’t handle,” she continued. “Leave that to me to figure out.”

  The surprise in his eyes morphed immediately into respect. He sat up straighter. Taking her arms, he guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. “You tell me, then,” he said. “What are you ready for? What do you want?”

  His brown eyes searched hers, intent for her answer. People often spoke of the color of eyes, as if it mattered at all. His would have been beautiful in any shade. She was drawn to the warmth in them, nothing like the flint that had so often come with Demitri’s. From Braxtus’s eyes came honesty, gentleness.

  “I want you. Now.” The world went blurry, and it took her a moment to realize she had tears in her eyes. “I love you. I have this whole time, and yes, I cared about Demitri, but I turned to him in the first place because I was scared I was just a game to you—”

  He caught her face in his hands, cutting her short and leaning forward. “Say that again,” he said huskily, breath brushing her face.

  “I love you,” she breathed. “I always would have chosen you, in the end.”

  His eyes went from soft to burning, and his thumb stroked her cheek. Her heart stuttered, then raced as he leaned in. Lips brushed hers, and that light touch sent shivers through her nerves, shivers that made her whole body tremble …

  The door flew open, and both of them leapt in shock. Braxtus fell back against the pillows, and Iyana twisted to look at the doorway.

  Kostas had Galene by the hand and was leading her in, neck and shoulder bandaged. He froze after two steps, eyes locked on them. Galene looked thrilled to see them, but Iyana knew Kostas had just been bombarded with the heat of the moment. He hesitated, a light of understanding entering his eyes as he read their intense emotions.

  A grin spread across his face.

  “Iyana!” Galene pulled away from Kostas and rushed to her side. “We thought we’d find you here.”

  “Why are you out of bed?” Braxtus accused Kostas, glaring at him for what Iyana knew was more than his lack of restraint. Iyana let her hair fall in her face, trying to hide her blush.

  “I’m allowed the occasional walk.” Kostas was still grinning.

  Galene gave him a reproachful look. “He really shouldn’t be this far from his bed, but we wanted to tell you…”

  “Tell us what?” Iyana asked.

  Galene’s sea-green eyes sparkled. “The Olympians have called for everyone to gather on the field of victory in three days. They asked us specifically to dress in our finest.”

  Iyana frowned. “When you say us…”

  “The four of us.” Kostas raised his eyebrows meaningfully, and they all exchanged glances.

  “I guess this means we’re cleared of all charges,” Braxtus offered.

  At that moment Apollo swept into the room.

  Kostas froze guiltily.

  Apollo sighed through his nose and pointed out the door. Kostas shot them an apologetic look as he contritely backed out.

  “Everyone else, too,” Apollo said. “Even you, Iyana. I’m bringing in a team of healers to work on his leg. Come back tomorrow.”

  Galene gave Braxtus a cheerful wave, then followed Kostas. Braxtus’s gaze lingered on Iyana. She met his eyes, a smile playing on her lips, but with his father watching she, too, stood up, trailing after them.

  56

  GALENE

  A shimmering, glorious mass spread out below Galene. She stood with the Olympians and her friends on a dais before the boundary towers. Thousands of gods, goddesses, and friends of Olympus stood on the cleared battleground, wearing their best robes or armor. Bright flowers and branches of laurel waved among the crowd. Everyone was silent, reverent, as they awaited the King of Olympus’s words.

  Zeus glowed in majestic, golden robes with a crystal crown that crackled and flashed like real lightning.

  “Children,” he began. “Brothers and sisters. We gather here to revere all of those who fought and gave their lives in defense of our home. Five hundred and forty-two have been buried within our mountain tomb, their spirits now set among the stars. Let us remember their sacrifice, and always honor their lives and heroism.”

  Heads bowed, and the following silence weighed on Galene’s shoulders. In the crowd, she could see many tear-streaked faces. Zeus himself tilted his face to the sky, as if seeing through the blue to each one of those new glittering stars. He turned his gaze back to the mountain. “The battle led by Olympus’s own children created a scar on this land, and it is something that we will not forget. Because of this, we are instituting some changes.” He paused for effect, and a soft murmur rippled down the mountain. “The Olympians have come to the decision that Unnamed gods and goddesses will not be required to complete the traditional Immortality Trial to become official members of the pantheon.”

  A shock went through Galene. She looked to Iyana and found her friend gawking, mirroring what must have been her expression. She turned to the Olympians.

  Though most looked proud or satisfied with this change, it was clear that a few weren’t at all pleased. Galene realized with a jolt that Hera wasn’t even present. Her eyes found her father’s, and he smiled at her.

  “Though our children still must be proven worthy, if they wish to petition a different path to prove their worth, we will allow it.”

  Cheers rose up, scattered through the masses until it became a roar. Braxtus thrust his fist into the air with a whoop, and Galene couldn’t keep the grin from her face.

  “Great time and effort will be spent preparing for this change,” Zeus continued with a small smile, “and we will be seeking input from many.”

  The crowd buzzed with chatter and excitement, particularly from the Unnamed, who stood together in a clump. “In accordance with this change”—Zeus raised his voice slightly to regain silence—“we have found a select few who have proven both their capability and worthiness outside of the Immortality Trial.”

  Iyana’s hand slipped into hers, and she squeezed it.

  “It is clear to us that Galene, Braxtus, and Iyana Unnamed are prepared for their titles and immortality.”

  Galene’s heart leapt into her throat. Tears welled in her eyes, and she struggled to maintain composure. Iyana danced on her toes. A hand touched her back, and Galene didn’t need to look to know how proud Kostas was feeling.

  Zeus turned his eyes on his daughter. “Iyana, my child, come forward.”

  Galene dropped her friend’s hand, and Iyana stepped out to meet her father. She knelt, sitting back on her heels and smiling up at their king.

  “Daughter, you have proven your fierce strength and unyielding devotion. You have endured much and overcome trials most here will not face in an eternity. I crown you a Hero of Olympus.” He placed a laurel wreath delicately on her shining hair. “I name you Goddess of Winds. May that wind ever guide and protect the human realm.”

  Her expression turned to awe, and she bowed her head with smiling pride. Iyana rose, eyes sparkling as she returned to their group.

  “Galene,” Zeus called, gesturing for her t
o approach.

  Taking in a deep breath, she stepped forward and knelt.

  She looked up and was surprised to see Zeus tip his head to her. “Daughter of Poseidon, I am humbled to offer you an official apology of the Olympians. We have deep gratitude for your actions that led this group to deliver Olympus. You have shown composure, respect, and exceptional resilience through your trials.” Poseidon appeared beside his brother and, with a proud smile, passed a golden laurel wreath to Zeus. Galene bowed her head. A tear slipped onto her cheek as the crown was placed there.

  Poseidon replaced Zeus and beamed down at her. “My daughter, with becoming a Hero of Olympus, I give you your title. I name you Goddess of Tides, Tamer of the Seas. May you continue to calm turbulent waters throughout the eternities.”

  Galene blinked back her tears as she rose, giving him a bright smile. She started to turn around.

  “And, Galene,” he added. She looked back, and he pulled something out of his robes. It glowed silver and gold in his hand. “Since you have proven yourself so capable, might I ask you to put this back?” He extended the avyssos to her, humor dancing in his eyes.

  Is he serious? She scrambled for a response. “Wouldn’t it be safer here?”

  “Didn’t you realize why the avyssos was placed underwater?” Poseidon asked, cocking an eyebrow. “It needs air and fire to be opened. Neither of which are likely to be found at the bottom of the sea.”

  Galene blinked at him.

  Her father chuckled. “I’ll give you a few weeks. You can solicit your friends’ help again, if you wish.”

  She accepted the avyssos, a reluctant smile returning to her lips. “I suppose I deserve that.”

  “I’ll show you a shortcut,” he promised.

  She returned to her friends. Iyana and Kostas were smirking, but Braxtus looked downright horrified.

  Apollo came forward, beckoning his son. Braxtus’s expression morphed to pride as he strode out. He dropped to one knee but kept his chin high.

  “Braxtus,” the Olympian began. “Strength, resilience, but most of all your inspiring loyalty have proven you worthy to be named a Hero of Olympus.” He placed a laurel wreath on Braxtus’s head. “With this honor I present to you your title. Rise, Braxtus, God of Wildfire.”