by Staci Hart
Adonis may never forgive her for what she was about to do, but she had to. There was only one thing left to do.
She turned to Eros, who had shown up for the show down.
“Come on. We have some explaining to do.”
Eros and Aphrodite stepped out of the elevator and into Artemis’ domain, bathed in moonlight. Dita’s canvas shoes kicked up dust, and Eros’ wings beat softly as he flew beside her as they made their way hastily down the trail to Artemis’ pond.
“I hope this works, Dita. Peneus has always been a dick.”
She laughed, despite herself. “I know. This isn’t going to be easy. We have to get past Artemis, then try to convince Daphne’s douchelord father to let her go.”
“Say it, Dita. Peneus. Come on.”
“Peneus,” she said, and he laughed. “This is serious, Eros. And can you not make penis jokes at him? Because that’s not really going to help our cause.”
Eros rolled his eyes. “Gods, sometimes you’re no fun.”
They wound their way down to find Artemis standing on the large boulder that bordered the water. Thirty Oceanids, young and beautiful nymphs, had bows drawn and aimed at them, lit from below by their crackling campfires.
Artemis called to them. “You are not welcome here, Aphrodite.”
Dita put her hands up, then slapped Eros in the arm. He threw his hands up, too. “Hear me out, Artemis.”
Artemis drew her silver bow up to her cheek and closed one eye as she pulled the string taught. “Leave this place.”
“Wait! Artemis, I am here to free Daphne. Please, grant me passage.”
Artemis opened her eye and lowered her arrow a hair. The Oceanids looked a little too eager for Dita’s taste, and she hoped no one got trigger happy. Not that they could do much real damage, but it would hurt like a motherfucker.
“If I grant you passage, you must agree that I will accompany you.”
Dita relaxed. “Of course, Artemis. I believe you can help our cause. You know Peneus isn’t generally forthcoming.” Eros snickered, and she shot him a look.
Artemis lowered her bow and slipped her arrow into her quiver in one fluid motion. The Oceanids lowered their arrows in unison and dispersed, and Dita and Eros moved through the nymphs’ camp under their cautious gaze as they fletched arrows and worked on stretched hides.
Artemis climbed down from the rock and walked to meet them.
“Come,” she said as she turned for her unicorn. She jumped on its back and extended an arm to Dita to pull her up with swift strength.
“H’ya!” Artemis shouted as she dug in her heels. They shot into the thicket, and Eros flew behind them as they bolted through the forest, the trees whipping by them in a blur.
They followed a river that brought them to a black lake that shimmered in the moonlight. Artemis jumped down, and Dita grasped her hand, sliding off after her. They walked over to the mouth of the tributary, and Artemis knelt down to lay her palms on the surface of the water.
“Peneus, rise,” she called, her voice amplified, the leaves on the trees around them rustling. “Rise to meet us from the dark, wet abyss of your domain.”
Eros snorted, and Dita coughed as she swatted him in the arm. “Shut the fuck up and pull yourself together,” she hissed.
The water bubbled, and Peneus emerged. His flat face was covered by his beard, his dark, sopping hair hung lank around his face, and his small horns protruded from the top of his head. His hairy, barrel chest ended in a serpentine tail that coiled under him as he rested on the surface of the water. He folded his arms across his chest with his mouth twisted in a scowl.
“Artemis, what is this?” His big voice thundered, gravelly and low. “You have brought these tricksters here? These deceivers? And you, whom I trusted … surely you are not in league with these miscreants who ruined my daughter?”
Eros flew forward a few feet, a condescending smile on his lips as he spoke with a flourish. “Dearest, most grand and mighty Peneus, we have come to free Daphne from the spell of the arrows. If we do so, would you free her from her prison?”
Peneus’ brow furrowed, and he slithered around. “How can I be certain that this is not a trick? Apollo will capture her and rape her. I cannot be sure that your words are truth. I do not understand the games that you of Olympus play, and have no desire to.” He shook his head as he decided. “No, no … I believe she is safe where she is. Safely locked in my wood.”
Eros coughed. “Uh, ahem. If we forge an oath that we will release the spell, would you agree? Apollo will not lay chase. We can assure you of that.” Dita was grateful Eros didn’t mention that Daphne would likely run straight to Apollo, whether he chased her or not.
Peneus stroked his beard, his ugly face bent in a frown. He turned to Artemis. “Do you believe that these gods speak true?”
Artemis assessed them with deep, dark eyes, then back to Peneus. “I do, but you should ask for an oath. It would protect you and give you comfort.”
Peneus’ posture shifted in decision. “If you have Artemis’ blessing, then you have my word. Let us oath, for good measure.”
His tail uncurled, and he sank into the water. He glided to where Dita stood at the shore, and they clasped forearms. Her hand could barely curve around the expanse of his arm, and her forearm hung loosely between his thumb and forefinger. His wet, cold skin was slightly slimy, like the skin of an eel. Dita masked her disgust, and she held her chin up high to meet his gaze.
A stream of blue water wound its way around Peneus’ arm, and another, a white stream of water like diamonds, down Dita’s. They wound together, sparkling, moving in a current.
“I swear to free Apollo and Daphne from the curse of Eros’ arrows.”
“I swear to free Daphne from the tree of the laurel.” Peneus’ voice boomed deep.
The currents shimmered, then splashed away in a twinkle as their bond sealed. He released Dita’s arm, and it took all of her will not to shiver, wipe it off on her pants, and hop around with her face twisted. She moved her hands behind her back and tried to wipe the slime off her arm as inconspicuously as possible.
“Come, she is this way,” he said as he turned and slithered up the river.
They followed him up the shore to the most tremendous laurel that Dita had ever seen. Daphne’s body was visible in the trunk, the bark twisting around her, her face frozen in terror. Her arms wrapped across her torso and wound around the tree in thick strands, and her hair flew around her, curling to form the branches of the tree.
Peneus slithered up to the banks where Daphne’s branches hung over the river and reached up, closing his eyes as he touched a wide branch. It began to recede, as if growing backwards, branches turning into twigs, leaves turning into sprouts that turned into buds. The trunk began to untwist, revealing Daphne, who fell out into the grass, small and trembling.
They ran to her, and Dita caught the nymph as she collapsed. Daphne turned her sweet face up, her green eyes shining as she cried, and Dita pulled her close, smoothing her copper curls.
“Shh, child. All is well. All is well.”
“Please, Aphrodite … please, take me to him.”
Dita’s eyes found Eros, whose hand rested on Daphne’s back, and they smiled, having finally made things right.
The sky burned red outside Apollo’s windows as the sun creeped up toward the horizon, and he sank to his knees in front of his speakers that crooned a haunting, solemn song. His pain ripped through him, and he dropped his head back, closing his eyes tight against it as the music washed over him.
He lost. And she was lost to him still.
The pain was so great, he thought he might split, shatter, and he felt heat radiate from his skin as he began to glow. He had let himself believe. But he had lost her again, and the agony was almost as great as on the day he’d lost her first.
“Apollo?”
Her voice was some magic, some sorcery. It could not be real, he thought, his heart still and quiet as he slowly tu
rned.
Daphne’s hair was wild around her small face, her green eyes wide and sparkling. Apollo closed his eyes, pausing for a moment, certain that he would open them to find the room empty, but when he did, she was still there. He stood and staggered, and then he ran to her.
He pulled her into his arms, and they collapsed in tears.
“Is this a dream?” he asked, his voice but a whisper as he looked into her eyes as she lay in his arms.
“No, my love. I am here. I am yours.”
His hand moved to her cheek, and he wiped a tear away with his thumb. She closed her eyes at his touch and sighed, and he pressed his lips to hers as the sun broke the horizon, wrapping them in golden light.
Aphrodite twisted her robe in her sweaty hands as she waited for Adonis, nervous for the first time in their thousands of years together, not knowing just how much pain they were about to endure.
He walked out of the underbrush cheerily, but his face fell when he saw her. He rushed to her side and knelt to cup her cheek, turning her face to his. “What is wrong?”
She looked down at her hands. How could she explain?
“The contest is over.”
Adonis turned and sat heavily beside her, stricken. “Gods. You lost.”
“Actually, I didn’t lose.”
His face relaxed, and he covered her hand with his. “Then all is well, love. What has upset you?”
She turned and looked into his indigo eyes.
“I couldn’t let him suffer anymore.”
His faced morphed from comfort to confusion, then to realization, ultimately falling in dismay. He pulled his hand back.
“You say that as if it were easy for you.” He rose and turned to walk away.
“Adonis, please, I—”
“I will not hear this, Aphrodite. I will not.” He shouted, his face wrenched in fury. “What of my suffering? How can I forgive this? And forgive you? I cannot believe you have betrayed me. After everything that has passed, I cannot understand how you could do this.”
Her heart ached at the sorrow and anger on his face. He gave her one last piercing look, then turned, moved the underbrush aside, and disappeared into Elysium.
Day 21
DITA CURLED UP ON HER couch, snuggled in her cashmere blanket, reading. There wasn’t much better in the world than being manhandled by a stubborn, kilted, red-headed Scotsman, she had decided. The elevator pinged, and Bisoux hopped off her lap to run into the foyer, barking as his nails clicked on the hardwood.
She turned to look over her shoulder and found Apollo sauntering into the room with Bisoux in his arm. She could swear Apollo was glowing.
He sat in the armchair nearest her. “Dita, I’m sorry I haven’t been by, I—”
She held up her hand to stop him. “I’m fully aware of what you’ve been doing.” She gave him a sideways smile, and he flushed.
“I wanted to thank you. I … I can’t even find the words. You’ve done something for me that I never imagined you would do, something I’ve wished for that I thought was lost to me forever.” He took a breath, his emotion clear in his voice, his face bright and open. “I also wanted to give you this. I would have paid a million of them to get what you have given me.” He held out his hand, extending his token to her.
Dita nodded as she accepted the token and held it to her eye-line in awe. Apollo’s token was her favorite of all the gods. The sphere glowed like a star, radiating yellow-white and warm to the touch, and if you put it to your ear, it played a song so beautiful that it would break your heart, or heal it, or both, if you listened long enough. She reverently held it to her ear, and a tear fell from the corner of her eye. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and sighed heavily as she turned to him.
“You are welcome, Apollo. I couldn’t let it go on. I never intended to keep her from you forever, and I’m sorry that it went on for so long, that I have caused you so much pain.”
“And Adonis?”
“Adonis and I … disagree on the matter.”
“Dita, I’m sorry,” he said, earnestly. “I’m surprised that you would go against his wishes for my happiness.”
She pursed her lips and gave him a pointed look. “I make my own decisions.”
He tipped his head down and put a hand up with a small smile. “Noted.” Bisoux leaned into Apollo’s other hand as he scratched the dog’s head. “I’m certainly not complaining. I hope that he comes around.”
“Thanks, Apollo. So do I.”
Apollo stood and plopped Bisoux in her lap. “Nice move, by the way, using the music that I had Dean make against me there in the end. No one can quite make an asshole out of me the way you do.”
Dita laughed. “But you make it so easy.”
———— New York ————
Lex woke entwined with Dean, their arms and legs wrapped around each other as they lay in his bed. She breathed deep, and he mumbled, squeezing her tighter. The soft, morning light shone through the filter of the white curtains, and Lex smiled, her heart aching at the beauty of the moment as she committed every detail to her memory.
Dean’s grip loosened enough that she leaned back to see his face, to trace the line of his jaw with her fingers. His eyes blinked open, and he smiled as he pulled her back into him, laying his cheek on her chest as she ran her fingers through his hair.
Everything she had wanted, everything she had hoped for in Dean, he was. She was free. She had found him, and she was free.
Dean sighed as she wound her fingers in his hair, and he nuzzled against her chest, reveling in her soft skin, warm and comforting. Holding Lex was like coming home. He understood the word for the first time, in her arms.
He thought he’d lost her forever, and every minute that he had her was like magic, as if she would just disappear, that he would wake to find it had all been a dream.
He pulled her closer and closed his eyes, his heart beating hard in his aching chest as he tilted his face to hers and kissed her lips, then her cheek, her neck. And then, he whispered in her ear, “I’ll never leave you.”
A tear squeezed from her eyes, pinned shut. “I know,” she whispered back. And she did.
———— Olympus ————
Dita lay in her bed with her covers pulled up around her face and Bisoux curled up on her pillow next to her cheek, a warm little comfort against the cold emptiness in her chest. “Are you ever not eating junk food? I’m curious,” she asked Perry who sat next to her, eating a chocolate bar.
“No, actually. I even eat it in the bathtub.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Wanna piece?” Perry extended a little rectangle to her.
“Yes, please.” Dita slipped it into her mouth, and it melted on her tongue. “Mmmm. That actually makes me feel a little better.”
Perry sat for a moment in silence. “So, he’s super pissed, huh?”
Dita snorted, then kissed the dog and pushed herself up to lean against her fluffy pillows. “Uh, yeah. Super pissed. He’s currently being a magnificent baby about it.”
“Well, Dita, Apollo killed him. Literally gored him to death. I’d say he has a right to be pissed.”
“But, gods, Perry. It’s been eons.”
“Not for him. Time passes differently for him. He experiences things in a linear way, but he doesn’t perceive time like you and I do.”
“I know. But time has passed for me, and I’m not going to keep punishing Apollo. Especially because the more I think about it, through everything we’ve been through, I can’t believe Apollo acted alone.” She tucked the covers under her arms. “Anyway, I don’t know if Adonis is going to get over this. I mean, right now, he’s not speaking to me at all. When I dream, I just wait for him.”
“You’ve had fights before.”
“Yeah, but not like this.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“What can I do?”
Perry pushed her glasses up her nose. “I’ll talk to him.”
“And in the meantime, I’ll just keep waiting,” she said. She could only wonder how long he would punish her, how long she would have to wait before he would forgive her, if he would ever forgive her at all.
Day 22
DITA WALKED INTO THE GAME room to find Ares playing Call of Duty. She plopped down and picked up a controller. “Want to play online?” She grabbed the remote and turned on the second television.
“I don’t know, Dita, are you prepared to get your ass kicked? You don’t handle losing very well.”
She turned to him, admiring his profile, from his strong jaw, smattered with stubble, to his heavy brow. She traced the angle of his full lips with her eyes and sighed.
They had what Dita would call a volatile relationship, by which she meant they had booty-called for eternity between their constant arguing. Fucking and fighting, that pretty much summed it up. She supposed that was why he was so appealing. No commitment and super hot make-up sex.
He turned to her, feeling her eyes on him, and he cocked a smile when he saw a look that he recognized. He touched her face.
“Come here,” he said, and she leaned toward him, catching herself before their lips met.
She leaned back, huffing as she slapped his hand away. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
He smirked and sat back on the couch, turning his attention back to the television. “Are you ready for the next challenge? Just a few days before we start. My favorite challenges are the ones where you and I go at it.”
Fighting and fucking. “You’ve never beaten me before. I don’t expect you’ll start now.”
“First time for everything.” He jacked an eyebrow at her.
“You’re impossible,” she mumbled as she stood up. But before she could walk away, he grabbed her arm and yanked her down into his chest, catching her off guard. They paused for a moment, neither moving, neither breathing before he kissed her, hard and hot. She pushed against his grip, but his lips against hers dissolved her restraint as they always did, and she relaxed against him, wrapping her traitorous arms around his neck.
