Spared from the previous day’s fighting, Zeus’s group held a dangerous advantage. Wielding the lightning and arrows that had served them for millennia, neither Zeus nor Apollo were strangers to battle. As elevated forces of nature, Aetoc, Jerry, and Baskin fought in the ways that came natural to eagles, trees, and frozen dairy treats. Tracy swiftly opted to manifest her power in the form of the “producer’s whip” that Jason so often had joked about. Then she decided to use two for good measure. Leif was more distracted, switching at random between various types of weapons (or none at all) in a wild effort to eschew predictability.
Yet even with the old Olympians lending their strength in an unofficial truce, the Titans were no pushovers. Coeus and his consort- sister Phoebe caught Aetoc in midair as he tried to distract them. They ripped him apart by the wings and hurled the still-screaming pieces into the vortex. His sacrifice allowed Leif and Tracy to get hold of the distracted Coeus and wrestle him closer to the vortex with whips and muscle. Even so, the Titan fought back and might have escaped entirely were it not for a sudden onslaught of sugary, multicolored death. With a bellow of, “Suck sprinkles, treacherous hooligan!” Baskin lunged from the sky to blast Coeus full in the face. Leif and Tracy renewed their attack and soon hurled the blinded Titan back through the vortex to Tartarus.
At the same time, Apollo and Artemis struck at Aetoc’s other killer. Bowstrings singing, they peppered arrows into Phoebe to drive her back alongside her brother. Stumbling backward in a mad effort to shield herself, she might still have escaped were it not for Jerry. The god-tree’s preference for ground fighting served him well as he thrust his gnarled roots up under Phoebe’s heels and tripped the Titan backward toward the vortex. In one final combined slam from the archery-twins, Phoebe's fate matched that of Coeus.
“You know, technically she was our grandmother on mom’s side,” Apollo said.
Artemis shrugged. “Given our family, that’s not exactly a character reference.”
“Is not matterings!” Jerry screamed. “Titan-grandmother was being bad! Aetoc was friend!”
“Mourn later!” Baskin yelled. “Fight now!” With a yodeling battle cry, he flung himself toward the mountainside where Zeus battled Cronus.
Yet even with their dual victory, the battle did not go as well for every Olympian. Not for nothing was Cronus king of the Titans. He beat back both Zeus and Baskin with two uprooted trees and then turned on Dionysus and Hermes to knock them toward the vortex with one massive swing. While Hermes managed to zip sideways enough to avoid oblivion, Dionysus fared less well. Screaming for a beer, he toppled through the vortex and out of the narrative entirely.
All around, the struggle continued. Weapons clashed and fists pounded. All combatants tried their best to throw their enemies into Tartarus or at the very least beat, slash, or shoot them senseless. Amid the chaos Hermes, weakened and still dizzy from Cronus’s walloping, found Tracy hunkering down against an onslaught from Hyperion. Though her defenses held, the blazing balls of energized quarks the Titan hurled at her kept her on the defensive. Hermes, posing as a rabbit, scampered up her leg to perch on her shoulder.
“Hello, Tracy! Still fighting for Zeus after all the manipulation and lies, then?”
To her credit, Tracy gave Hermes no more than a second glance after recognizing his voice. Also, Hyperion shattered the rock in front of her so she had other things to worry about. Slinging her whip out to cover her escape, she leaped to another section of cover and hunkered down again, strengthening the rock itself against the next volley.
Even in his weakened state, Hermes kept up with her.
“Hardly the time!” she shot.
“Nonsense! I realize you’re new to this whole ball of kippers, but when we god-sorts get close, we can do sort of a—”
The whole mountainside shuddered as Hyperion launched himself in an arc over Tracy’s cover, blasting destruction down on her that she barely managed to divert with Hermes’s help.
“Stop-time thing, I know!” she finished for him. “Except I don’t want to talk to you!”
She darted for a new spot before Hyperion could make another attempt.
“Hardly being friendly, are you?” Hermes asked as Tracy slipped into a game of cat and mouse with the Titan. “Why not hear what I have to say?”
Tracy raised a finger to her lips to shut Hermes up, popped from hiding around one side of a boulder, and slung her whips at the Titan’s ankles. He jumped and blasted more destruction her way, forcing her back to cover.
“Because I don’t trust you, maybe?” she hissed. “Now either help me or get lost!”
Hermes clung tightly, creating the first ever moment in any battle involving a combatant with a rabbit in her hair (with the obvious exception of the Franco-Prussian War). “I beg your pardon?”
Tracy fled from Hyperion’s next assault, taking to the sky in a shield of her own leptons. “You said the ritual failed! Well, hey, did you notice Zeus is back? You lied!”
“A misunderstanding, I assure you. Zeus is a tricky one—we were still trying to get a bead on him at the time. I thought it had failed!”
“So why did you tell me that right before using me as bait to trap Zeus?”
“Rather worth a shot, at least, wouldn’t you say? Incidentally, incoming.”
Intent on her flight path, Tracy entirely missed spotting two green storms of energy headed straight for her. They blasted into her shields, jolted her from body to essence, and knocked her straight down into a narrow chasm. She barely stopped her fall before hitting bottom. Her entire body stung from the blow, energy temporarily sapped, or muted, or—whatever the heck a god should call getting wounded, she didn’t know. Hyperion hadn’t followed. Yet. Recovering her strength, she waited, preparing to whip the ever-loving crap out of whoever stuck a face into the chasm and hoping it was someone who deserved it.
Hermes scampered down from her hair to cling to her chest and stare up at her, whiskers twitching. “Very well, I’ll help you. After all, we’re both against the Titans, all big, bad, and destructive as they are. I have to hand it to Zeus; it was the perfect diversion, unleashing them. I doubt that’ll be of much comfort to everyone who’s died, but—”
“He didn’t release them,” she whispered, doing her best to shield herself from Hyperion’s senses. “He’s got no idea how they got out.”
“Ah, yes, no idea. Just like when he told Hera he had ‘no idea’ how those seventeen models got into their bathtub. He’ll say whatever it takes, Tracy. That’s thousands of years of experience talking. That’s why we had to put him off. We didn’t want to. It was quite simply our last resort.”
A victorious laugh from above heralded Hyperion’s rediscovery of her. Two whiplashes later he bellowed in pain and darted back out of sight, clutching the eye Tracy had just put out. Tracy widened a crack in the chasm and dashed through it, forcing Hermes to shift to his normal form just to keep up.
“You’re trying to get me to switch sides,” she whispered.
“Rather obviously, yes.”
“Yesterday you tried to kill me. Or was that whole locking me in an airtight box over the ocean just, what, a friendly hazing?”
“Surely someone as smart as you can recognize a bluff when she sees one. Why kill you? We simply needed Zeus to show himself. He arrives, distracts us with releasing the Titans, and then plays the gallant rescuer and claims coincidence! You all but admitted he manipulated you with that amulet. Did you ever ask him about that, or did he feign innocence in that too?”
She stopped short of insisting that the amulet had only amplified her own natural tendencies, which really just parroted what Zeus told her earlier. Though the circumstances continued to nag at her, any opinion Hermes offered on the matter would be suspect.
“It wasn’t like that,” she answered.
“Oh, ‘it wasn’t like that.’ I see.” Hermes chuckled. “It’s as plain as the stupid on Ares’s face that you’re not so sure. Zeus tricked you into
thinking he hasn’t tricked you, hasn’t he? The cad! You see what I mean. He’s had millennia of practice.”
“So have you. You’re trying to trick me into thinking he tricked me into thinking he hasn’t tricked me.”
“Oh, that was good. Are you dizzy?”
“I’m getting a little tired of it all, no matter who’s doing it!”
“I’m only trying to give you more information.”
Tracy wheeled on Hermes. “No! You’re trying to do your own—”
Hyperion tore off a piece of rock above them before she could tell off Hermes. Both of them flew skyward on instinct.
With a pat on her shoulder and a cry of, “Think about it!” Hermes shot past the Titan, poking him in his remaining eye as he went. Hyperion roared anew and blindly hurled the gigantic rock at Tracy.
Yet it was just rock, and poorly thrown at that. She caught it in her bare hands. Harnessing the power of every ounce of the frustration she felt over the constant manipulation assailing her on all sides, she phased the rock to pure energy and hurled it back at Hyperion with a furious yell. It exploded in the Titan’s face with a blast that would have been much more satisfying were she farther away. She regained consciousness halfway across the battlefield a few moments later.
There was no sign of Hyperion.
The rage of battle around her gave her no time to think. Amid the bitter aftertaste of Hermes’s words, Tracy resumed the struggle, teaming with Leif and Jerry to combat the remaining Titans.
One by one, their dwindling numbers and battle-weariness in the face of Zeus’s fresher forces pushed the Titans back through the vortex until only Cronus himself remained. Now enraged by both his former imprisonment and his utter failure to skewer Zeus on a pike, he stood at the very peak of Mount Parnitha clutching a spear stolen from Ares in one hand and the (divinely reinforced) roof of the Parthenon in the other, and there he screamed for his children to try to throw him off.
Zeus turned to Apollo and the Neo-Olympians. “Wait here,” he ordered. “I must do this myself.”
Without waiting for acknowledgment, Zeus moved to answer Cronus’s challenge.
His brothers did the same. Each charged their father alone only to have their attacks rebuffed. The inexorable Hades ran inexorably into Cronus’s shield before his father kicked him straight down the mountain. Poseidon turned aside Cronus’s spear with his trident only to be knocked senseless by a fist to the face. Zeus tackled Cronus straight on. Lesser gods scrambled for cover as the two tumbled halfway down the mountainside in a rolling melee that sent their weapons flying, until Cronus finally picked up Zeus and threw him straight at the vortex.
He might have gone through were it not for Baskin. Unable to stand idle, he dived for Zeus and batted him to safety with his giant pink spoon at the last moment.
Yet Zeus and his brothers were only a distraction. Hera, Demeter, and Hestia, having taken the mountaintop during the struggle, plunged down on Cronus. Once Demeter’s and Hestia’s net wrapped the ambushed Titan in temporary helplessness, Hera slashed into Cronus’s backside. He pitched farther down the mountain, struggling to tear the net from his body when Hades was suddenly upon him, seizing up the net’s loose ends. Even then Cronus forced his way to his feet. Poseidon knocked him off his feet with an earthquake, and still Cronus resisted, finally blasting the net apart in a flash of power. He fought his way free again, roaring in rage as five of his children grappled him about the legs, arms, and neck. Yet the five were weary. They only slowed Cronus, able to neither drag him down nor lift him off his feet.
Zeus brought the stalemate to an end. Rushing back to the fight, he hurled lightning repeatedly into Cronus’s chest. Focused on Zeus’s siblings, Cronus took the full brunt of the attack. Zeus wasted no time. He grabbed his stunned father from the frazzled grips of the others, yanked a fragment of extra power from Cronus’s essence, and then hurled him single-handedly into the vortex.
Cronus didn’t have time to even curse.
Zeus shot a triumphant grin at Tracy. Leif and Jerry cheered as Baskin, bubbling with battle lust, regarded the Olympians. Apollo only heaved a sigh of relief from where he watched over Artemis, who lay weak and wounded from the fighting. Zeus indicated for them to wait and be ready, and then he turned to deal with his brothers.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“Zeus joined the battle, Terpsichore. What about that?”
“He said he would, Urania. That’s hardly a twist! I need more, something unexpected! You know what I mean, don’t you, Melpomene?”
“Well, I didn’t expect Hermes to turn into a bunny.”
“Please, stop musing children’s books until you do more tragedy. A bunny? You’re getting soft!”
“Puns are lazy wri-ting . . .”
“Clam up, Thalia.”
“You clam up, Terpsi. Why get so worked up about it?”
“I muse thrillers, you tosspot! I demand surprising developments! If there isn’t some sort of twist soon, I swear I’ll—”
“Um, everyone? This conversation is showing up in one of the chapter openings. How’d that happen?”
“We’re Muses, Sister. It happens.”
“Hee hee! Look at it go! Ooh, is that enough of a twist for you?”
“Do you really think I can settle for that? No, what I need is—”
“Sisters, please! Clio’s trying to transcribe the battle!”
“Yes, Calliope.”
—Muses Urania, Terpsichore, Melpomene, Thalia, and Calliope (final moments of the Second Titan War)
ZEUS SIMMERED WITH smug triumph. “Once more I turn the Titans aside!” he declared to the Olympians. “The vortex must now be sealed, my subjects, but you may rest yourselves. Be not ashamed of your weakness! Mighty Zeus shall do the sealing himself!”
Poseidon could not abide this. “Weakened or no, it is we who shall accomplish the feat! We need you not, Zeus. You are hardly stronger than all of us; you shall not claim this victory for yourself!”
“I hardly think you up to the task, Poseidon,” answered Zeus with a laugh. “You aren’t fit to lead a parade in your current state. I shall do the sealing single-handedly, and then you shall witness the glory of Zeus and why he is the most fitting to rule you all!”
“You shall do nothing but stand aside!” Poseidon insisted, continuing the classic shall-off. “Olympians, lend your strength! We seal the portal ourselves!”
“Are we to argue the matter until Cronus escapes again? As you wish, Brother. I stand aside.”
Zeus returned to stand by Apollo and Tracy. “He would block my efforts just to ensure I do not get the credit,” he whispered. “I expect I would do the same in his position, were I foolish enough to get myself into it. Poseidon is prideful.”
Next to Tracy, Leif laughed. “Pot calling the kettle . . .”
“Silence! I command it!” Zeus commanded, and did not notice Leif’s responding gesture. “The effort of sealing will weaken them further. Observe.”
“Did Poseidon pick up the Idiot Ball in battle or something?” Tracy asked.
“No, this is simply politics.”
“Where is the Idiot Ball?” Apollo wondered.
Once the Olympians gathered together, it happened rapidly. Energies poured from their hands and minds. They rewove the dimensional fabric, first tugging the vortex closed and then locking away the seams within the re-gathered cans. Their task complete, they collapsed, exhausted.
Zeus clapped. Slowly. “Well done! You show the strength of your will, unconcerned that it leaves you weak as kittens!” (“Don’t knock the strength of kittens,” Leif muttered.) “Bravo! You now will surrender to me, unconditionally.”
Poseidon and Ares were the first to their feet at this. “Never!”
“The time for discussion has passed!” Zeus thundered in murderous contempt. “Surrender now!”
Ares stepped in front of Poseidon to glare at Zeus. “Ares don’t surrender!”
“Surrender now, apostate!�
� Baskin cried. Standing before Zeus, he mirrored Ares and brandished his spoon in frigid readiness.
Ares sneered. “And he definitely don’t take no damned orders from ruttin’ sweets!”
“I am not sweet! I am shock and awe with a cherry on top! I am your frigorific doom!”
(“Frigorific?” Tracy whispered. “It is a word,” Apollo answered sadly, “though I believe it should be otherwise.”)
“Upstart!” Ares yelled.
“Traitor!” Baskin screamed.
“Second banana!”
Perhaps had Baskin known him longer, the semi-cleverness of Ares’s retort might have momentarily stunned him. As it was, Baskin could take no more. He launched himself at the war god, screaming all the way.
The two clashed in an explosion of rage and cream and touched off a brawl that spread instantly among the ranks on both sides. Pandemonium again took the mountainside as the cacophony of battle drowned out Poseidon’s and Zeus’s shouted orders. No matter how reluctantly some of the combatants fought (Hephaestus, a dutiful husband battling only to protect Aphrodite, loathed every blow he gave; Artemis and Apollo avoided each other entirely), none escaped involvement in the struggle for supremacy.
Even the Erinyes—whom Poseidon had kept in reserve as fresh troops for this very circumstance—exploded into existence and tore into the maelstrom with unrestrained glee. While no direct match for a god, they were not without their strengths. They harried Zeus’s forces, serving as a violent, screaming nuisance that distracted them at key moments and keep them from full effectiveness.
Yet, ultimately, it backfired. Jerry spotted the Erinyes mere moments after they appeared. Fury alone propelled him across the battlefield until with a vindictive cry he leaped, seized all three by the ankles with his branches, and hauled them out of the air. More branches grew instantly to trap them further in a divine wooden grip stronger than iron. The Erinyes screamed vitriol and tried fruitlessly to teleport away, held fast by the god-tree’s newfound power.
Zeus is Dead Page 47
