Nothing.
The key dangled loosely from the too large opening, so Mirissa grabbed it again, twisting it right and left, hoping to engage whatever locking mechanism hid inside. “It’s not working. Why isn’t it worki—?”
Mirissa gasped as an unseen force gripped her. The glow coming from the inscription on the key intensified, until a deep red blaze filled the box, seeping through the spaces between the lid and base.
The chain, still hanging from the key, disintegrated as a beam of the red light exploded through the lock and hit Mirissa in the chest. Her arms shot out to the sides, her head flung back, as the force enveloped her torso. Terror consumed her as she waited for her inevitable death.
“Mirissa!” She heard Greco yell, but couldn’t form words to answer him. Even if she’d been able, what could she have said to comfort him?
Warmth spread through her as the field of light grew to encompass her entire body. It felt pleasant, as opposed to the horrific pain she’d imagined. She was at peace, totally and completely, for the first time in her life. The fear and sadness of leaving her friends and family evaporated, leaving behind only contentment.
The lid of the box swung open on its hinges in front of her, and the light inside began to swirl. Faster and faster it spun, until it reminded Mirissa of the whirlpools created in rivers when currents meet.
The vortex caused a subtle shift in the beam of light emanating from the keyhole. It began to draw Mirissa’s energy away from her. She watched, transfixed, as tiny golden specs floated in the red glow surrounding her. They made their way to the beam and travelled through to the vortex. Her essence, her soul, was being absorbed.
As the first golden particles mixed in the vortex, the ceiling exploded above her. Shards of rock began to fall, then immediately blinked out of existence, leaving a gaping black hole so deep she couldn’t see its end.
A smile formed on Mirissa’s lips. She felt no fear, simply an overwhelming joy at beginning the task she’d been destined to perform. Her essence continued to feed the box, strengthening it and weakening her. Within seconds, red clouds and black tendrils of smoke streamed from the hole, joining with the vortex in the waiting box. More and more flowed out, as their journey through the black hole brought them home.
“No!” The scream came from behind her, but Mirissa ignored it. There would be nothing she could do anyway. Her shoulders hunched, arms limp at her sides, as more of her strength departed.
Movement from beside her caught her attention. Is that Eris? She’d only ever seen her in the vision from Ares’s palace, but the evil she emanated was unmistakable. Mirissa turned her head, an action that took most of her remaining strength, in time to see the goddess frozen in place by another beam of red light.
The goddess, scythe gripped tightly in her hand, wore a horrified expression as the glow enveloped her. She glanced up to the tunnel above them as though waiting for something. When the last cloud and tendril emerged and joined the vortex in the box, Mirissa understood.
Eris’s turn had come.
********
Greco watched as the woman he loved slowly died right in front of him. He’d never before felt so utterly helpless. The golden specks that once filled the red glow surrounding her, were now so few and far between, he could barely see them.
When Eris charged into the room, he instinctively started after her but was again rendered useless. Although he would have happily challenged a goddess if it meant protecting Mirissa, the box had taken care of that for him.
Eris stood, unmoving, staring up at the clouds pouring out of the hole in the ceiling. When there were no more, she dropped her gaze to Mirissa.
“Hello, young warrior,” a familiar, yet unexpected voice called out.
“Queen Myrine? Is that you?” Greco asked, trying to find her.
“Of course it is … oh, I forgot. Sorry.” Two feet to his right, the ancient Amazon queen materialized, removing an odd-looking gray helmet from her head.
“How …? What are you doing here?” Greco stammered.
Queen Myrine glanced to Mirissa before answering. “There isn’t much time. I need you to leave the room, Greco.”
“What? No way,” he said, exasperated. He’d just gotten in the room; nothing could make him leave Mirissa now.
She grabbed his shoulders and spoke in a tone normally associated with elementary school principals. “Eris has the scythe. I can use it to channel my power into Mirissa. It’s how she gained so much strength while fighting Daedric in Delphi. She took some of his power. But you must leave first.”
“No, let it channel my power, too,” Greco demanded.
She shook her head in frustration. “If you don’t leave, my power may get sent to you, or worse. Yours may be given to me.” She stole a quick glance at Mirissa. “We must hurry, young warrior.”
Greco’s eyes swiveled between the woman he loved and the queen he respected. He should be at Mirissa’s side, not out in the hall. He was more than just her boyfriend, he was her guardian.
“Greco! Now!” the queen yelled.
Damn it. “Okay. Come on, Flip,” he agreed.
“I can stay. A full-blooded god already has all of the power we will ever have. We can’t send or receive it. Only lower beings can,” Flip said, giving Queen Myrine an admiring look.
Greco nodded, though he wanted to strangle the god for being able to stay. Taking one last look at Mirissa, he stepped into the alcove on the other side of the door. He would follow the queen’s instructions, but damned if he’d go any further away than that.
Eris remained in place. Mostly. Her body changed from a solid mass to an almost translucent gas. Her features, so sharp just moments before, floated in the way an image floats when looking at it through water. Her time in these realms would be over soon.
Greco’s heart wrenched when Mirissa crumpled to the floor. Her time would be over soon, too.
“Hurry!” he yelled.
Myrine handed the helmet over to Flip and closed her eyes. Seconds passed where nothing happened, and Greco watched the last few golden specks swirl around Mirissa. He closed his eyes and prayed, to whom, he didn’t know. Please, please, please.
When he opened them, Mirissa remained crumpled on the floor. Greco followed the final golden speck on its path, only to see another, this one green, appear next to it. Then another, and another. Soon, hundreds of green particles surrounded Mirissa’s golden one, then hundreds more started traveling through the beam of light into the box.
Eris, or what remained of her, came apart like a plume of smoke hit by a gust of wind. Her remnants sucked into the vortex an instant before the lid slammed shut, leaving the room devoid of the warm, red glow. Mirissa’s key melted itself into the metal, forever sealing the lock.
Greco felt so overjoyed at the presence of the single golden particle when the lid closed, he almost forgot to thank Queen Myrine for sharing her powers. But, when he looked at her, he knew she’d done so much more than that.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Myrine?” he asked.
The queen’s image floated much like Eris’s had. “This was my choice to make, young warrior. I didn’t need your permission.” She smiled warmly. “I’ve lived an exceptionally long and beautiful life. I’ve been blessed with the honor of leading and mentoring generations of Amazons over thousands of years. This”—she gestured to Mirissa—“has been my greatest honor, by far.”
Greco swallowed hard and bowed his head. “Thank you, my queen.”
The fading image of the ancient Queen Myrine smiled warmly, gave him a playful wink, and dispersed into the air.
Chapter 39
Zeus stood tall in front of his jewel-encrusted throne. Gathering the higher gods in his Great Hall always filled him with a sense of pride, but this time, even more so.
“As I’m sure you’re all aware, Eris has been defeated, and the humans have won the right to keep the Earth for themselves.” He paused as he took in the expressions of his audience
members. “I can see this news pleases some of you more than others.”
Zeus once again surveyed the room. “Hera? Please remove the helmet and return it to Hades.”
From a few feet away, Zeus’s wife materialized, wearing an embarrassed smile. She handed the helmet to Hades, who simply laughed.
“What about the scythe?” a voice from the back shouted out.
“The scythe was in Eris’s possession when she was locked in the box. It will remain there with her for all eternity.” A small smirk crept on his face, and he immediately wiped it away. “Whether she chooses to end her suffering with it or not, is up to her.”
“And where is the box now?” another voice asked.
This time, Zeus allowed himself a broad smile. “Right here,” he said, lifting his throne overhead to reveal the metal chest. “It will remain under my … thumb … for the rest of time.”
When he returned the throne to the floor, covering the box entirely, he sat down, making a show of how comfortable he was. “Now, onto other business. It has come to my attention that my rule against interference in this matter was, indeed, broken. This will not go unpunished.”
Zeus rapped the end of his staff on the floor. “Bring in the first offender”
The son of Ares, Daedric, was brought into the hall. He cowered between the two guards holding him.
“I’m so sorry,” he wailed. “I was just following my aunt’s orders. I’ll never turn against you again.”
“Silence!” The sniveling opportunist’s voice grated on Zeus’s nerves. “This will be the last time you sully this great hall with your half-breed presence. From this moment forward, you will no longer have the powers of a god.”
Daedric’s eyes became saucers as he searched the room for his father. “Ares, you can’t let this happen. I did all of this for you.”
Ares strode to his son’s side. “No, you did all of this for yourself. Had you shown loyalty to me, and my ruler”—he inclined his head to Zeus—“you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
“But you started all—” Daedric’s mouth stopped moving with a flick of Zeus’s wrist.
“I’m sorry, Ares,” Zeus said. “But I couldn’t bear to listen to another word from your treacherous son. I’ll unseal his lips after he’s left our realm.” Ares appeared just as relieved to have Daedric silenced as Zeus was.
He turned one last time to Daedric. “Your powers are no more.” Zeus snapped his fingers, and the look on the demi-god’s face made it apparent to everyone that he felt the powers leave his body.
Once Daedric had been escorted out, Zeus called for his next victim.
A moment later, Flip entered the hall, flanked by another two guards. When he reached the dais, the guards pushed him to his knees.
“What have you got to say for yourself, Flip?”
The odd little god trembled as he spoke. “I will submit to whatever punishment you deem appropriate.”
Zeus’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He’d expected begging and pleading, not stoicism. He felt a little shortchanged being denied the pleasure of ignoring the beseeching he felt sure would come.
“Well, then, let’s get to it.”
“Zeus?” Artemis called out. “If I may make a suggestion?”
“Go ahead,” Zeus huffed.
“It’s no secret that Flip has always coveted the power and position of the higher gods. I’d venture to say he would do just about anything to attain them. That being the case, perhaps a suitable punishment would be to remove not only his powers, but his status as a god. Force him to live out the rest of his days on Earth as a mere human.”
Hades stepped forward. “Oh, I second that motion. It would be a devious punishment, sure to dissuade others from breaking your rules.”
Zeus thought for a moment. He’d expected Hades to come up with a dastardly way of torturing the little god, but not Artemis. For her to ask for a punishment of such magnitude was highly uncharacteristic.
“Well, I’d only planned to have him strung up over a fire ant hill for the next thousand years, but you obviously want him truly punished. So be it.” He rapped his staff on the floor one more time to make it official.
“Flip, you have apparently incurred the wrath of several gods to receive such a harsh sentence. You will spend the rest of your days, limited as they will soon be, as a human.” Zeus snapped his fingers and made it so.
Epilogue
CNN Special Report
Scientists are still arguing over what caused the nearly catastrophic natural disasters of less than two months ago. Although opinions vary, one thing they all agree on is the complete lack of scientific evidence to support any of their theories. Perhaps even more of a mystery was the sudden disappearance of each anomaly.
Moments before a tidal wave measuring twenty-six meters in height slammed into the west coast of the United Kingdom, it inexplicably reversed direction and gradually settled into the ocean.
In a joint statement from the U.K. leaders, the British Prime Minister was quoted as saying, “I don’t care why it happened. I’m just relieved that it did.”
As for the six hurricanes, they simultaneously dissipated with a speed previously unheard of, their sudden deformation creating a dazzling display of rainbows across the globe. Video of the phenomena still ranks at the top of the YouTube charts.
Now onto other news.
Harvard University has just announced the appointment of their new department head of Ancient Greek Studies. Professor Phillip Petrakis, referred to as the “ancient language whisperer,” will begin his tenure next week. When asked to explain his sudden leap from obscurity to the limelight, he answered simply, “Curiosity killed the dog.”
Stay with us here at CNN for all of the breaking news. I’m Danica Dumore, in for Julia Saxon who is on extended leave.
********
Mirissa sat on the plush loveseat in her mother’s office with Greco’s hand in hers, and her parents lounging across from them. It had taken almost two months for her to regain her strength. Even her father fully recovered faster than she had, but she definitely didn’t complain. Being alive, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world, was the only thing that mattered to her.
“It looks like Flip’s doing well,” Mirissa said.
“He most definitely is, and that reminds me. Did you get the wedding invitation he sent?” her mother asked.
“The one with the picture of him and Jill horseback riding? Yep, I got it.” Mirissa giggled.
“Any news about Daedric?” Greco asked.
“No, and I’m not expecting any,” Myrine said. “He’s still a wealthy man but, without his powers, I don’t expect him to make any real trouble.”
Myrine’s desk phone rang, so she excused herself to answer it while they continued to laugh about Flip’s so-called punishment. When her mother returned, the look on her face told Mirissa the news wasn’t good.
“That was Director Finley,” she said. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” Mirissa asked.
Her mother’s brow furrowed. “How do you feel about witches?”
The End
Stay With Me!
You’ve just finished Pandora. I really hope you enjoyed your visit to the realm of the Greek gods as much as I enjoyed sending you there.
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If you’d like to read an excerpt from Chaos, the next installment of The Omega Group series, please turn the page.
I hope you enjoy this excerpt from Chaos
Prologue
Princess Ann County, Virginia
August 1740
Grace Sherwood lay in her bed, surrounded by three generations of family, awaiting the death that should have claimed her long ago. A warm summer breeze wafted
through the window of her sparse room, bringing with it the smell of rosemary. Those herbs continued to flourish even as she deteriorated. Her weakened heart would soon stop beating, ending a tumultuous life. Her legacy, however, would live on like her garden.
At the age of eighty, Grace felt ready to leave the world behind. She’d raised three strong sons, buried a loving husband, and toiled on their farm until she could no longer grip a yolk. She’d done well despite the intentions of many.
More than half a lifetime ago, in 1697, Grace suffered the humiliation of being accused of witchcraft for the first time. Although the charge of using supernatural means to kill a neighbor’s bull proved both false and ludicrous, it began a streak of allegations that plagued her for decades. She’d been branded a witch many times by people who blamed her for the loss of their crops and livestock.
Unlike other colonies, Virginia shied away from witch trials. They didn’t allow hysteria to take hold and, instead, required proof of magical wrongdoing. Grace stood accused on many occasions, but each time the court either found her innocent, or simply declined to prosecute.
That changed when she was accused of using magic to kill her neighbor’s unborn child.
Perhaps the court had simply grown tired of having her as a defendant, or perhaps the death of a child still in its mother’s womb hardened them to Grace’s plight. Whatever the reason, the justices ordered a trial by ducking.
She’d been trussed up like one of the animals on her farm and brought to a plantation near the mouth of Lynnhaven River. Six justices rowed her into the river and threw her overboard. They believed the water to be so pure that it would reject a witch’s presence. Had Grace sunk to the bottom, she would have been proved innocent. But after being pushed below the surface, despite her best efforts, she floated back up.
For eight long years she’d been incarcerated. The small window in her cell allowed her to watch the town folk live their lives without even a glance in her direction. When finally released, Grace returned to her homestead, tending her farm and gardens.
Pandora (Book 3) (The Omega Group) Page 18
