by A P Mobley
As he pressed his hands against the fabric, smoothing its wrinkles, Zoey stepped out from her fortress, her old clothes balled up in her hands. The new dress perfectly complemented Zoey’s tan skin and curly brown hair, although it fell all the way to her ankles and hung straight off her body like a paper sack. Despite the way it fit, she was still gorgeous as far as Andy was concerned.
“Hey, that looks good on you,” Zoey said, pointing at Andy’s new getup. “Whatta ya think of mine?”
Andy smiled, careful to keep the nervousness out of his voice. “The dress is great.”
Zoey stuffed her clothes into Andy’s pack. “Thanks. It feels like it doesn’t fit quite right, but we don’t have time to play dress-up. We gotta hurry.”
“Should we grab something for Diana and Kali? In case they’ll need disguises later, too?” Zoey nodded and snatched another dress off the rope, then a long hooded cloak. She stuffed them into the bag as well, and the two scampered barefoot back to Darko and Prometheus.
“Do we look like proper members of Aphrodite City?” Andy asked.
“Yes, actually,” Darko said, as though he was surprised.
Prometheus scratched his chin for a few moments, eyeing Zoey’s attire. Finally, he snapped his fingers, and sparks crackled between them. In an instant, two shining golden ropes appeared in his hand, one noticeably longer than the other. He offered the ropes to Zoey.
“What are these for?” she asked, taking and examining them. “Won’t this weaken you more? I thought your powers were limited.”
Prometheus smirked. “It’s a belt and a hair tie, and yes, I’m weaker than usual, but those shouldn’t do me too much harm. Here, allow me.” He snatched the gifts from her hands, then wrapped the longer one around her waist and double-knotted it, accentuating her prominent curves. “That’ll spruce up your dress.” He finished the ensemble by sweeping her hair into a low side ponytail which lay over her shoulder and stepped back to admire his work.
Zoey turned to Andy and Darko. “How does it look now?”
“Freaking beautiful,” Andy blurted. Zoey blushed and looked away.
“Beautiful, but also similar to other women in the cities,” Prometheus added. “No one will think she’s out of place.”
Zoey brushed Prometheus’s gifts with her fingers. “Thank you.”
For the next few hours, the group continued heading into the city. They eventually reached an even busier area that reminded Andy of the malls he’d visited in highly populated places from the Before Time, roars of chatter ringing in his ears.
Out of nowhere, a strange buzzing sensation filled Andy’s chest like a swarm of flies beating against his ribs. He sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes. The image of a pillared white temple atop a hill flashed through his mind.
“This is the Agora,” Darko said, and Andy snapped open his eyes, the buzzing fading away. “Every city has at least one. It’s where the citizens go to buy things and socialize.”
Rows of pillared shops lined the Agora for miles. Hundreds—no, thousands—of citizens clothed in dresses and tunics like Andy’s and Zoey’s, their arms and handbaskets filled with food, bustled in and out of the stores and along the cobblestone paths. Dirt roads wound every which way, leading farther into the city toward more neighborhoods and the shimmering white buildings erected high above all others. On the streets, men directed curtained, horse-drawn carts full of what Andy assumed were trading goods.
In the center of the commotion here, a golden fountain resided. Inside the structure, a sculpture of an inhumanly beautiful woman stood thirty feet high atop a large clamshell, her hair falling in waves all the way to her feet. Water cascaded from the mouths of several cherub statues—all of which stood around the woman’s shell—and into the fountain. Pearls, jewels, and coins shimmered against its metallic floor, and as some citizens passed, they tossed more riches into the liquid, making it splash and ripple.
Zoey gazed at the Agora with wide eyes and pointed at the statue of the woman inside the fountain. “That’s Aphrodite, isn’t it? The patron goddess of this city?”
Prometheus paused and nodded. “Goddess of Love and Beauty. Born from sea-foam when the Titan Kronos killed his father, Uranus, and threw the guy’s, uh, genitals into the sea.”
Andy shook his head. “Greek gods are so weird.”
“What’s weird to you might be completely normal for someone else,” Prometheus replied, and Andy shrugged.
“Why are they throwing coins and stuff into the fountain?” Zoey asked. “Are they making sacrifices to Aphrodite or something?”
“Clever girl,” Prometheus said. “Sacrifices for the goddess so she’ll bless them and bring them prosperity.”
“She looks nice,” Andy said.
Prometheus snorted. “If by ‘nice’ you mean vain and conniving, you’d be right.”
“Hey,” Darko started, putting a finger to his mouth as though to shush the Titan. “We shouldn’t be talking that way about a god or goddess in their own patron city, whether it’s true or not. If any astynomia heard us, we’d be arrested.”
“You’re right,” Prometheus said with a sigh. “Anyway, we’re getting close. The bakery is only a few minutes away from here.”
Andy snorted, wondering who in the world Prometheus needed to talk to there. “Let me guess, we came all this way to ask the baker for their famous cupcake recipe?”
Prometheus chuckled, walking along one of the larger paths into the Agora. “Nice try, but no.”
Andy opened his mouth to speak again, but Zoey elbowed him in the side and gave him a look that said, Shut up and be patient!
Before they could follow Prometheus, Darko tapped Andy’s shoulder. “Hey, it’ll look strange to people if they see a satyr astynomia just hanging out with a couple of citizens. I’m gonna head toward one of the astynomia quarters and see if I can find some weapons we can steal.”
Andy’s pulse quickened. “Wait, you’re gonna go all alone? Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Well, yeah. You guys can’t go with me to the quarters. Citizens aren’t allowed there. But don’t worry. I grew up in Hermes City. Even though every city is different, this is still sort of familiar territory. Just take care of whatever it is Prometheus needs to do and meet me at the fountain with the statue of Aphrodite by sundown. But no later, because that’s curfew.”
“Curfew?”
“Yeah, curfew. If the astynomia see you on the streets after the sun sets, they’ll arrest you.”
“Oh, lovely,” Zoey said. “Okay. We’ll see you here, at the very latest, by sundown.”
Darko nodded and clopped away, and Andy watched, his stomach twisting in knots. He didn’t like leaving Diana and Kali behind, and he definitely didn’t like splitting up with Darko in the city.
Zoey tapped Andy on the shoulder, and he snapped out of his trance. “Prometheus is way ahead of us,” she said, and the two of them hurried to catch up to the Titan, weaving through several citizens in the process.
Once they’d reached Prometheus’s side, they slowed their pace, but the buzzing feeling snuck back into Andy’s chest. He held his breath and willed it to go away, and soon it faded again.
Within less than five minutes of walking through the Agora, they reached a building that looked similar to the other shops but was certainly not like the rest. The unmistakable scent of fresh, savory bread mixed with sugary treats permeated the area surrounding the store, wafting into Andy’s nose and making his mouth water. Prometheus paused in front of the bakery and clasped his hands, his expression almost fearful as he looked upon it.
Andy’s stomach growled. “Is this the place you wanted to visit?”
“Yes,” Prometheus said, then took a deep breath and marched toward the entrance. Andy and Zoey shared a look and followed the Titan.
As they stepped inside the bakery,
the smells grew even stronger, the interior stuffy and warm. No customers perused the place, which surprised Andy, because it had the most delicious-looking food he’d seen since the world had ended, and possibly even since before the world had ended. Tables stacked with bundles of every kind of baked item Andy could imagine—bread loaves, biscuits, doughnuts, pretzels, muffins, bagels, and cookies—lined the shop from side to side. At the back of the store a young woman worked away, pulling trays of more goodies out of fiery clay ovens. She wore a tattered terracotta-colored tunic, her frizzy black hair pulled into a bun atop her head.
When Prometheus laid his eyes on the working girl, he halted and stared as though in a trance. She turned around and set a tray of steaming biscuits atop an empty spot at the nearest table, giving the group a dazzling smile when she saw them.
Andy blinked a few times, a little surprised at how attractive the girl was. She couldn’t have been older than him and stood around his height, with a slim build, brown skin, and big dark eyes like circular pools of sweet Coca-Cola. Her ears stuck out more than the average person’s, but coupled with the delicate lines of her face, it was cute.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted them, her voice soft as a lullaby. She took off her oven mittens and set them aside. “Thank you so much for stopping in. What can I help you with today? Were you looking for anything in particular?”
For a few minutes, Prometheus said nothing, only staring wide-eyed at the girl. Andy would have said something, but he had no idea what. He didn’t know why they were there; he just needed to fulfill Prometheus’s requests.
Finally, Prometheus spoke up, clenching his hands at his sides. “Young lady, are you related to Nylah? The woman who owned this shop seventy-five years ago?”
The girl took a step back. “Well, yes. My family has owned this bakery for over a hundred years. Nylah was my great-great-grandmother. But who—who are you? And why do you care?”
“My dear . . . if Nylah was your great-great-grandmother, then unless she had another child later in life, that would make me your great-great-grandfather.”
Andy’s jaw dropped, and he shared a look of shock with Zoey. Prometheus wanting to come to Aphrodite City finally made sense. This was where he’d met the woman he’d had a child with—the woman he’d been re-imprisoned for.
The working girl in the bakery ran to the entrance of the shop, slammed the doors shut, locked them, then swung around to face Prometheus with a frantic look in her eyes. “You’re really him? The Titan? Prometheus? My great-great-grandfather?” She didn’t take a breath between questions. Andy’s head spun, and he wasn’t even the one asking them.
Prometheus scratched his chin. “Well, did Nylah have any other children besides Mozes?”
“No. And Mozes went to live on New Mount Olympus and trained there and became a Warrior of the Gods and had an affair with a regular mortal named Jin who got pregnant and Mozes couldn’t help her with the baby because of the gods so Nylah took care of them and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Prometheus interrupted. “Slow down, young lady. I hardly understood a word you just said. Did you say Mozes became a Warrior of the Gods? And had an affair with a regular mortal?” The girl nodded. “What else do you know about my son’s life?”
The girl sighed. “He died a long time ago—in battle. I wish I could tell you more about him, but that’s all I know. My parents could have, but they’re gone now . . . I’m so sorry.”
Prometheus hung his head. “There’s no need to apologize. It’s been a long time.” His voice cracked as he said it. He wiped his eyes and looked up. “What’s your name?”
“My name?” She gave him a puzzled expression, as if she hadn’t expected him to ask. “Why, it’s Jasmine.”
That’s pretty, Andy thought, and Prometheus smiled. “Jasmine is the perfect name for such a lovely girl. You look . . . you look so much like her. Like Nylah. Beautiful, just beautiful.”
Jasmine put her hand to her heart. “Thank you. I must say, I’m both surprised and happy you’re here. I’ve been without family for so long now. I’ve been alone . . .” Her eyes grew sad, but she forced a smile and brushed a few disheveled curls that had fallen out of her bun behind her ears. “I have much to ask you. How did you escape the Caucasian Eagle, the gods?”
Prometheus drew closer to Jasmine, explaining to her how he’d been freed by Andy, Zoey, and the rest of the group—thankfully leaving out the part about how the group was trying to lead a war on the gods, and how if they took Prometheus to Aphrodite City and broke his chains, he’d help them into Poseidon’s palace.
The strange buzzing sensation in Andy’s chest started up again, but this time it spread through his body, drowning out everything else. He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples, the same image from before—the one of the pillared white temple—flashing through his mind.
The temple is here in the city, he thought, although he had no idea how he knew. It’s here. I gotta find it.
“What’s wrong?” Zoey whispered, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” He gritted his teeth, the image of the building growing crisper in his mind. Somehow, he knew it held answers he needed to uncover.
Andy opened his eyes and looked to Zoey. “I gotta go.”
“What the hell do you mean? We have to stay with Prometheus to make sure he doesn’t try to run off.”
Andy headed toward the bakery’s entrance and shoved the bar locking the door out of place. The door creaked open. “You’re gonna have to stay with him. I’ll explain later when I see you at the fountain with Darko.”
“Andy!” Zoey cried, but he was already out the door and stumbling into a crowd.
Andy shoved past people along the paths, the buzzing reverberating through his body stronger as the seconds passed, his vision going blurry. He had no idea where he was, nor how to reach the temple from here. But at the same time, he did.
After a while of walking through the city, unsure of his purpose but knowing he must fulfill whatever it was, Andy paused. His vision cleared, and the buzzing subsided. He groaned, then rubbed his eyes and looked up.
Before him beckoned the temple in his mind, located in a more remote area of the city. Hardly any shops sat around it. It looked just as it did in his vision and stood atop a small hill, white and pillared and about the size of a narrow house.
Andy’s breath caught in his throat, his pulse quickening. He’d never seen this place. He hadn’t even known it existed before today. But now he felt as though he might explode if he didn’t go inside.
He raced up the steps and barreled through the temple’s entrance, then halted as he looked upon its interior. Metallic torches lined the walls. He could imagine them blazing with orange fire, but on this evening they hosted no flames.
Although the inside of the temple was dark, the sunlight pouring in from outside illuminated the walls, floor, and ceiling, which looked as though they were made of gold with swirls carved throughout. No one else was here, but at the back, hoisted on a golden stand, a tall statue of a young man with feathered, butterfly-shaped wings and a bow and arrow ready in hand gazed down at him.
Andy walked tentatively toward the statue. He wanted to get a better look at it; he wanted to figure out who it depicted. Something about it—he didn’t know what—made him want to know more.
As he grew closer to the statue, the torches began to light with crackling flames, one by one, revealing thick dust which coated everything here. Chills rushed through him. What could be causing this? He glanced around. The temple was empty.
He took a deep breath. Just focus on the statue. Who is it? Why did it call me here?
How did I know it’s even what called me here?
When he reached the statue, he looked around for something that would indicate who it was but could find nothing except a square plate bolted to the stand with something—he guessed a name or titl
e—carved into it, indistinguishable because of the dust caking everything. If I just wipe the gunk off . . .
He went to brush the muck away with his hand, but as he touched the plate, an electric shock jolted through his body. The hairs on his arms and legs stood up straight, goose bumps rising all over his skin. But before he could pull away, before he could fall back, his body went still.
He felt as if he were petrified. He tried to call out, tried to scream, but he couldn’t even part his lips. The only sound that came was a muffled grunt.
Dark clouds of smoke crept into the corners of his vision and swallowed him whole.
CHAPTER FIVE
PAST
Before Karter knew it, Asteria had laid him down on a stiff bed inside what she said was a healing shrine. She hadn’t told him which one, and it could have been one of many, since every city had one—all of which were dedicated to a demigod child-of-Apollo from the old days, Asclepius—and Karter’s vision was so blurred he couldn’t determine which city he was in by building structure and décor alone.
Asteria whispered in Karter’s ear, “Close your eyes now. You are safe. You will live.” And he did as she said, almost instantly falling into a dreamless slumber.
When he woke again, the sun shone through the single window of the room he lay in. Asteria was nowhere to be seen, but a quick look at the room told him where he was: Hephaestus City.
The walls, ceiling, and door were crafted from a hodgepodge of metals. On one side of Karter’s bed there was an iron toilet; on the other a steaming stove, its gears and cogs working away to keep the room at a comfortable temperature. On the other end of the room stood a stool and a grandfather clock. The clock was the biggest indicator Karter was in Hephaestus City, as Hephaestus was the only Olympian who allowed the people of his city to tell time with some of the same methods people from the Before Time used. It was quite odd in his opinion. However, as far as Karter knew, allowing this hadn’t done Hephaestus any harm; Hephaestus’s people seemed to love him for the most part.
