Hera, Queen of Gods (Goddess Unbound)

by Thomas, T. D.

  And then the silence. Absolute. Terrifying. It was like all the noise in the world had been sucked into a vast void we’d torn open by sheer strength of will.

  In the centre of the circle, Sonia’s eyes snapped open. They shone yellow.

  It had worked!

  But something was wrong. The light in her eyes began to flicker.

  “Can’t . . .” It was Hecate’s voice, but it was weak. Raspy. A blend between her voice and Sonia’s. The spell was already failing.

  “I know,” I said as quickly as I could. “It was a gamble. But we need the blood of a god. For a spell. There’s a traitor in the Heavens.”

  The incense around Hecate swirled into hissing serpents. But the snakes exploded as soon as they formed. Seconds. We had seconds.

  No more talk.

  “Take her blood!” I cried.

  Artemis broke the circle and rushed forward, knife in hand. Hermes tossed her a bowl. But by the time Artemis reached Sonia and seized her wrist, the light in Sonia’s eyes flared brilliantly and then went out. Sonia collapsed against Artemis, and Artemis let the knife fall.

  We had failed.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Failure wasn’t the worst part, though it was bad enough. The worst part was we’d wasted precious time, and it had cost Sonia her life.

  Seven witches left.

  I steeled myself against the grief. I couldn’t think about Sonia now. One more death. One more body to add to the pile. And never any time to mourn.

  “So, who re-ascends?” Apollo asked. When no one said anything, he looked directly at me. “I think it should be Hera.”

  “You must be joking,” I snapped. Of all the gods to turn on me, I’d never have suspected Apollo.

  “Our enemy knows about your powers,” Apollo explained. “They’ve figured out how to neutralize them by sending half-human, half-animal monsters.”

  “I can still use my powers on mortals,” I reminded him. “And I have one mortal in particular in mind.”

  I’d use my powers to their fullest, most terrible extent on whoever was spying on us and helping the traitor god. They’d chosen the wrong god to mess with. A mistake that would cost them--dearly and permanently.

  “If you go, you could rally the Heavens,” Demeter admitted, “and maybe find the traitor.”

  “The traitor has been living among us, in secret, for who knows how long,” I countered. “He’s not going to give himself away now, just when he’s about to win. He’s too smart for that. Besides, if I re-ascend, I’ll be too weak to do anything at all.”

  “Don’t forget that Ekhidna wants to use you as a bargaining chip with the traitor,” Artemis said. At least I could always count on her to support me. “We might be able to use that against her.”

  “If that’s true, it’s all the more reason for her to leave, not stay,” Apollo argued. “Hera’s in danger.”

  And there it was. I’d been thrown by Apollo’s unexpected onslaught. It was so unlike him. But now it made perfect sense. It wasn’t about what he was saying. It was about what he wasn’t. It was the poison. He knew something about what was happening to my body.

  But I didn’t care.

  “I need to stay,” I insisted.

  I couldn’t explain it any better than that--at least, not to them. I couldn’t tell them that I could never stomach being defeated by this mortal body. Or by Ekhidna. Or by an ambitious mortal, or a crazed traitor god. But most of all I couldn’t tell them that, in the end, I had to go down fighting. I couldn’t scurry back to the Heavens to wait for my fate to be decided by others, by those I’d left behind to face danger in my place.

  I ruled the worlds, cared for them, sacrificed everything to keep them safe. No one and nothing would drive me away. If I was going to die, there was no better cause to die for. I wouldn’t run from a fight I was made to fight.

  “You should go,” Justin said. His voice was quiet. But it was firm.

  “I’m staying,” I said coldly, folding my arms. “You can’t force me to go. As much as you all seem to want to. I’m going to finish what I started.”

  No one said anything. There was nothing else to say. Except for one thing.

  “So then who re-ascends?” Hermes asked finally.

  “We’ll need fighters,” I said. “Artemis and Hermes should stay.”

  “That leaves me or Apollo,” Demeter concluded. She sighed. “I don’t like to leave you. But I’ll go.”

  “Then it’s decided,” I said.

  “Whatever you do, be careful in the Heavens,” Hermes warned. “You’ll be weak when you get back, and we have an enemy there.”

  Demeter smiled and nodded, but there were tears in her eyes. She knew this might be the last time we’d ever see each other. I embraced her fiercely, and she clung to me for dear life.

  “You’re right to stay,” she whispered to me. “They need your strength, not your powers. It’s not about power. It never was.”

  There was no more time for goodbyes.

  “Let’s begin,” I said, clearing my throat and gently pushing Demeter away.

  “Wait.” It was Apollo.

  “This had better be good,” I said.

  Tick. Tock.

  “Demeter should stay,” Apollo replied. “I’ll go.”

  Artemis shot him a surprised and somewhat offended look, but when their eyes met, she sighed and nodded.

  “I’ve done all I can here,” he continued. “I used the last of my powers on Justin. I won’t have enough time to recharge. Demeter’s got power left. She’s always been stronger than me. And she can use what she’s got left in battle. It’s time to go on the offensive, and that’s not where I shine. But I can go and do my best to help in the Heavens.”

  He was making a great sacrifice. We both knew it. And he was doing it for me. He was giving up the chance to be with his sister, his other half, when existence came to an end.

  Apollo went to the centre of the room and lay down. The rest of us formed a circle. To my surprise, Justin linked hands with us.

  “You know the rules,” I told him. “Secrecy.”

  “By the River Styx,” he recited. His knees buckled, but he didn’t fall.

  Artemis had picked up a knife, and Hermes had a bowl. Demeter began to sing, squeezing my hand. The memories of the last time this happened flooded back. Zeus in his delirium. The agony of seeing him so close to death. The terror of facing such a terrible burden without him. A crippling loss. An exciting freedom.

  And now gentle Apollo would go, too.

  At least I didn’t have to worry about him surviving the transition. But it was one less god to help us when it mattered most. Another loss to add the list. The long, long list.

  Hermes. Artemis. Then Justin. The singing filled the air. It was different from the witches’ chant. There was no building speed, no frenzied urgency. The power grew slowly, but surely. We built it with care. A stairway to the Heavens.

  For his part, Justin tried his best to follow the melody. But more often than not, he was left singing alone. Still, I felt his strange Dreamer power, that mysterious force between divine and mortal, mold itself to our work. He could give us energy, but not direction--but we’d take what we could.

  I joined the chorus. The keystone in our divine architecture. The song lifted. Apollo began to shimmer. His face radiated bliss as his essence began to shake free of its mortal prison.

  “Now,” I told Artemis.

  Artemis walked around the circle, slicing our palms. She finished with herself. Our blood dripped in a ring around Apollo. A ring forged from the most primal and powerful material in creation. A ring of life.

  Apollo’s body began to dissolve into light as that energy was drawn into him. Soon, he looked like pressed sunshine, blindingly radiant.

  Artemis rejoined the circle, and Hermes left it. A dip in the song of power, and then a familiar surge. Hermes walked around, catching drops of our blood in his bowl. Then he too became one with the circle
, with the power.

  It was my turn. I broke from the circle. It was almost painful. To be part of something so cosmic, so extraordinary, and then to separate from it. Like taking mortal form again. I’d forgotten what it was like to be more than mortal. I’d forgotten what it was like to be me.

  I took the blade from Artemis. I cut a piece of cloth from the tatters remaining of our clothing and did my best to bind our cuts. We didn’t want to weaken ourselves any more than necessary. Without Apollo’s healing, these cuts would be with us until we left this world and returned home. Or until we died.

  Apollo’s body was no longer pressed sunshine. It was whiter now. Whiter than white itself. It was all colours and no colours at the same time. And it had barely any cohesion at all. Not like when we’d lifted Zeus to the Heavens. His illness had kept him tightly tied to his mortal body until his divinity burst out of it like air from a popping balloon. The process was much gentler with Apollo. He was like a swarm of swirling fireflies, eddies of sparkles in the barest of shapes.

  It wouldn’t be long now.

  Demeter left the circle. She took the bowl and knelt by Apollo. She dipped her fingers into the blood and anointed him. Then she poured out the bowl in a wide circle around him.

  The blood steamed. It rose up in a curtain of shining mist, a shimmering wave of light that undulated to the rhythm of our song.

  Slowly, Apollo’s essence began to wind its way up into the air, floating on the currents that would carry him back to the Heavens. The blood glowed white-hot. The currents grew stronger. The scintillae of light flew higher.

  Demeter raised the blade and cut deeply into him. When she pulled out the blade, instead of light, it was stained with blood. Hot, gleaming blood. God blood.

  “From one dream to another,” Artemis intoned.

  “From one family to another,” Hermes called.

  “From this world to the next,” I finished, “return him to his rightful place.”

  The sparkling light merged into a river of rushing, white fire. It exploded into a blazing shockwave so powerful that I was certain the circle would fly apart. But instead, I felt nothing. The energy rebounded back to the centre and then rushed upward like a geyser. Then, there was nothing. Apollo was gone.

  We all fell to the ground, exhausted. The sound must’ve been loud, because the witches began to run down the stairs.

  “We have the blood,” I gasped. “Get ready to cast the spell.”

  I struggled to get to my feet--only I couldn’t move my legs at all. Justin lifted me up.

  “I can’t use my legs,” I admitted.

  There were some things I couldn’t hide, as much as I wished I could. I didn’t want them to see weakness. Not in me. Not ever. But this was impossible to ignore.

  “What?” Artemis demanded.

  “The arrow that hit me in the leg,” I explained. “It was poisoned with Ekhidna’s blood.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Demeter exclaimed.

  “I thought the . . . situation . . . was contained,” I replied.

  “The poison is spreading, isn’t it?” Justin said.

  “Apollo did what he could,” I said, “but, yes, it’s spreading.”

  “How long?” Hermes asked softly.

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “It’s moved to my other leg. It’ll keep moving after that. It doesn’t matter. We can’t waste time with this. We need to cast the spell.”

  “You could die!” Justin said.

  “If we don’t do the spell now, we’ll all die,” I said. “We can worry about me later.”

  He set his jaw. He wasn’t done fighting, but one of the witches interrupted. “We’re ready when you are. And there’s fifteen minutes before the barrier falls.”

  “Is that enough time?” Artemis asked. At least I could count on her to stay focused. Her face betrayed no sadness, no surprise, no accusation.

  “It’ll have to be,” I responded. “Form a circle. Witches. Gods. Dreamer. Whatever. And get me some paper and a pen.”

  The witches had already replaced the candles. They’d changed the incense, too. It was even thicker and muskier than before. I breathed it in eagerly. I could feel its shadowy power whispering.

  Someone thrust a paper and pen at me. I jotted down the spell and ingredients.

  “You’ll have to change it,” I warned. “This spell is to blind the Heavens, not the mortal world.”

  “We’ll change it,” one of the witches shrugged.

  “Just like that?” I asked.

  “Magick serves us,” she replied. “Not vice versa. We can make any changes we like.”

  “What about him?” the witch asked, eyeing Justin.

  “What about him?” I replied.

  “You’re not worried the spell will affect him?” she asked.

  “He’s like you,” I replied. “Not fully part of the mortal world anymore. He’ll be fine. You all will.”

  The witch bowed, and took the paper from me. She crossed some things out and scribbled in some others.

  And so a new circle was formed. A different circle. Of gods, and witches, and a Dreamer. A blend of the worlds, of natures. In its own way, this was perhaps the most powerful of circle of all.

  “Empty your mind,” one of the witches instructed. “Concentrate on darkness. Repeat what I say. After saying a line, we will each extinguish a candle, one at a time. Don’t worry. You’ll know when it’s your turn. You’ll feel it.”

  I felt the energy in the room shifting. We were like a dam holding back an ocean. And gradually, we were lowering that wall so that a torrent of energy could flood out and drown the world.

  The witches recited in unison:

  Ancient Ones, we call to you,

  Eternal first to mortal last,

  Endless last to mortal first,

  We abjure you.

  Let our voices reach across the lower plains.

  Let our cries resound from the holy mountain.

  Let our echoes deafen the sons and daughters of the most high.

  A gust of wind howled into the room, but the candles didn’t even quiver. Outside, I could hear the screeches of the harpies and the hisses of the pythons. Occasionally, there was a loud smash as they charged into the barrier, hoping to force it down.

  The witches handed out candles and lit each one with a glowing taper. The flames blossomed and then turned black, casting an eerie purplish light.

  “Break what is already broken,” the witches called. “Bind those who are already bound. Limit again those who are already limited.”

  Power slithered around the circle like a serpent, coiling, gathering strength until we let it spring against the mortal world. Against the mortal spying on us.

  “Get ready,” one of the witches said. We each prepared to extinguish our candles.

  Then, they chanted again:

  Beings of flesh,

  We call out of darkness.

  Beings of knowledge,

  We call into ignorance.

  Those who see,

  Let them see nothing.

  Those who seek,

  Let them find nothing.

  May this most profane curse

  Bind humanity.

  May this unholy working

  Blind those who dwell below.

  Candle by candle, the room grew darker, and with the last line, we were plunged into blackness. It was a darkness deeper than any I’d seen before. It was a darkness of the soul.

  The wind howled again. It grew and grew and grew until my eardrums felt like they’d burst. But, instead, the howling suddenly ended, and we were left with a dreadful silence. An emptiness that brought tears to my eyes. We were alone. Cut off. Invisible.

  A ringing bell brought me back to my senses.

  One of the witches spoke, her voice trembling.

  “The barrier has fallen.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  “Artemis?” I asked curtly, as Justin swept me into his arms.


  His strength couldn’t last forever--but, for now, I needed it, not only because my legs were useless, but because it was comforting in a way I’d never admit to. Just being close to him reminded me that I wasn’t alone.

  “They’re going to figure out the barrier’s down very soon,” Artemis replied. “They’ll rush in to finish us quickly. They still have numbers on their side, and they don’t care about taking losses.”

  “I’ll go see what our best escape route is,” Hermes offered.

  I nodded, and he vanished. I didn’t even hear him leave. He was a master at going undetected. He’d be fine. At least, that’s what I told myself.

  There was a smash. I turned my head. Artemis was tearing up the stairs, board by board.

  “We might as well slow them down,” she explained. “We won’t be leaving this way.”

  Another smash, but this one was above us. The monsters were in the house. It wouldn’t take them long to find us. But then I heard a scream, followed by frantic hissing. The screaming didn’t stop.

  “A pain curse,” one of the witches said. “Doesn’t do any real harm, but the agony is indescribable.”

  “Hopefully enough to slow them down a bit,” Justin said.

  We heard a knock on the window. Hermes.

  “Justin, you go first,” I told him.

  “I’m not leaving you,” he said firmly.

  “We need you outside,” I replied. “If they figure out we’re escaping, you can take everyone with you to the Dreamlands. It’s our only chance if they discover us too early.”

  Justin hesitated, but two witches lifted me from his arms. He sighed, hoisted himself up the wall, and then crawled out the window. His arms reached back through.

  “Demeter next,” he said. “Hermes is creating a distraction, but it won’t last forever. We’ll need Demeter’s powers.”

  Demeter was just as reluctant to leave me as Justin was, but she knew I wouldn’t tolerate her arguing. With help from several witches, she made it up to Justin’s arms and disappeared through the window.

  There was a crash at the top of the stairs.