Suddenly, Epimethius came tearing through the crowd. Selene’s moonlight glinted off his bald head. He yelled, “This is gonna be epic!” He threw down a round shield. As it slid, he ran and jumped on it, gliding toward us. But it stopped abruptly when it met the dirt and pebbled walking path. Epic was launched forward flailing into the dirt, stumbling several steps and falling.
“Come on, Epic! Damn!” Promo yelled. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”
“It worked yesterday.” Epimetheus shook his head in shame.
“Sit your ass down somewhere,” Menoetius barked.
This wasn’t how this operation was supposed to go. I’d actually hoped for more of a stealth mission. Dammit! I should’ve let Shade go invisible and do some recon first. We Olympians still held high ground at the top of the steps, that is, until I jumped to the bottom and approached Atlas who still writhed in the dirt.
“I will ask you again, where are Pallas and Perses? Hold up your end of the bargain,” I said calmly, confidence filling me like a wine goblet running over. “Or can’t you talk much anymore?”
“We don’t bargain.” Atlas coughed out. “We are Titans!”
“What’s all this about, huh? Why do you need the Sons of Kreios anyway?” Menoetius squared up in front of me, veins popping out across his bald head and his neck muscles jumping.
Epic and Promo helped Atlas to his feet as the legions of reinforcements of other young Titans and Potamoi surrounded us. “That was a nice little trick there with the glowing hand and all. But I’m done playing childish games. Now, I’m only here to whoop some ass and chew some mint leaves. And I’m all out of mint leaves.”
Don jumped down the stairs, followed closely by Shade. “Aww, isn’t that cute? Tell us where the brothers are, so we can go home.”
“Titans!” Menoetius spread his arms wide. “Tonight we dine on immortal bones!”
“I like mine crispy and well-done,” Atlas said, his voice lacking its usual swagger.
“Found your voice, hmm?” Anger dripped into my ichor bloodstream anew. “Crispy and well-done, eh? Is that a poorly veiled reference to my family on Crete? Huh? Do you know something? Was it you?” Energy began to swirl around both hands.
Shade moved his hands in front of his face and then disappeared, causing the crowd to gasp. Suddenly, Atlas was airborne again and landed straight on his back with a loud thud. As he got back to his feet, a large man in red and gold official robes pushed his way to the center of the throng. Dark curly hair ringed his head and chin like a lion’s mane. A notable hush fell over the crowd as many of them attempted to disperse.
Menoetius immediately tried to backtrack. His shifting and downcast eyes hinted at a deference, if not fear, that I’d never seen before. “We were just defending ourselves. Look at Atlas—”
“Everyone, stop,” the well-dressed man said. “Acknowledge and yield!”
Swiftly, every Othrys student shouted, “Iapetus!” and took a knee with bowed head. Even Atlas, Money, Epic, and Promo, which made sense given that Iapetus was their father. Thank goodness for the long conversations with Kreios at the Stone, Scroll, & Sword last term to determine the Titan lineage and family tree.
Shocked and confused by how the Titans responded to Iapetus’ request, we Olympians remained standing. Iapetus’ lips turned down at the corners. His eyes narrowed to slits as he approached us with steady, deliberate steps. Anger danced in his black eyes. “I said, Acknowledge. And. Yield. Do your ears work?”
Feeling confident in my new abilities, I quipped, “More like, I do not fear you.”
He got close enough to my face that I could smell the lamb on his breath. “Well now, we’ve not been properly acquainted. Allow me to introduce myself.” If scowls could also simultaneously be smug, he had it down to an art form. He extended his hand as if he were going to shake mine but then a knifing pain pierced my chest along with his hand. Crushing pressure engulfed my lung to the point that I could hardly breathe. He spoke again, evenly, “Now then, I am Iapetus, acting headmaster of Othrys Hall. When I appear, you must … acknowledge and yield. That means … say my name to acknowledge that I am in fact in your presence … and then yield to me by taking a knee. Are we clear?”
The pain in my chest was so great I grew lightheaded. My vision blurred. Voices sounded distant. I no longer smelled the charred air of the torches that surrounded us. I could scarcely even summon my energy. It’s as if he’d dampened it somehow. Metis rushed to my side to hold me up. A yell caught in my throat as I relied on one lung to breathe.
“Stop it!” Metis yelled. “You’re hurting him!”
“Isn’t that sweet? But Metis, you already know the drill. Now all of you …” Iapetus said. “Acknowledge and yield! I won’t say it again.”
“What do you mean?” Tia asked in a high pitch from behind me. “We don’t even attend this barbaric school.”
“Say. My. Name.” He growled. Veins bulged across his face as he began to actually lift me into the air. “You will all say it now!”
Without warning, I crumpled to the ground. Apparently, Iapetus had released his hold on me. I coughed and gasped ragged breaths. Metis embraced me tightly. By the time my vision returned and the scent of torch-lit air hit the back of my nostrils again, Rhea stood between us and Iapetus. An indigo-haired girl I barely recognized stood beside her, carrying a sack over her shoulder. Around her neck hung a leather necklace holding a huge shark’s tooth.
Great Gaia! I knew that my goose was going to be charbroiled later.
“Rhea, I hereby charge your students with gross insubordination, punishable by ten hemeras in The Hole,” Iapetus said. “They did not acknowledge me. And they did not yield.”
“Nor will they.” Rhea wagged her finger in the air. “My students answer to me, Mount Olympus Preparatory Academeia rules, Hellas scholastic system regulations and standards, and other agreed upon Pantheon League-wide conventions. Acknowledge and yield is not one of them. Now then, we’ve just completed the paperwork for Amphitrite to transfer schools. And we’ve concluded satisfactory diplomatic talks following last term’s escalated drama between our schools, yes? Let’s not ruin our gains with a pissing contest.” She paused a beat. “‘Cause, I’ll make it rain out here.”
Tall and athletic Amphitrite moved from Rhea’s side and slid into an embrace with Don. That’s when I remembered where I’d seen her, at the wrestling match last term. Don’s girlfriend.
“What are you all doing over here?” Amphitrite whispered.
“Later,” Don snapped.
“Rhea,” Iapetus said. “This is my academy now. I’m headmaster and I preside. An operation this large does not operate without order and consequence.”
“And yet, your predecessor needed no such infantile phallic displays of forced grandeur and circumstance. Students simply fell in line under Kronos. As do mine.” Her tongue remained on the roof of her mouth for a moment to emphasize the ‘mine’ part of things.
“Then you will do well to remove your students from my academy grounds before I subject them to Othrys Law. My law.”
“You’ll do no such thing.” Rhea pointed a long finger at the new Othrys leader. “Besides, I’ve not yet determined why they’re even here.” She turned to me. Her intense gaze slammed into me with the weight of a hammer as she spoke her next words through clenched teeth, “Why. Are. You. Here?”
“Headmistress,” I said, my voice pitched higher than intended, probably related to my nearly deflated lung. “Honestly, everyone else came along to support me. It’s my fault. I came here to confront Pallas and Perses.”
“Why, pray tell, would that be your objective?”
“We just returned from Crete.” My throat closed. I croaked out my next words. “They’re all dead. Aristaeus. Amalthea. Everyone.”
Rhea’s austere façade cracked. She whispered, “Amalthea … dead …” She brought her hand slowly to her mouth, and then quickly straightene
d. “Students, we must return home to Mount Olympus.”
“But I need to find out who—”
“Now!” Rhea thundered.
CHAPTER FIVE
After hurling back to Mount Olympus, Rhea herded us up the Cloudwell, a grand staircase composed of dense clouds, to behind the gymnasium. While she commanded all of our attention, she gazed directly at me.
“Listen, Zeus, you’re not wrong. And sadly, I think your instincts are as sharp as a sword’s edge. But something’s amiss. While we sort out everything, we need to stick together and lean on each other at our home base.” She paused, taking in our faces. “That means no running off alone on secret missions. I’m serious. I will get to the bottom of the Crete incident, whatever happened, even if it means bringing in the Khaos Council. Perhaps I can call in a favor.” She walked over to grip my shoulders tightly. The pressure applied beneath her fingertips was at odds with her signature soothing touch. “Zeus, and the rest of you … are you all absolutely certain of what you witnessed on Crete?”
We all nodded silently, our voices not quite strong enough to carry the weight of the answer.
Tia spoke up. Her voice shook. “W-we all saw it.”
Poseidon cosigned. “Honestly, I wish we hadn’t.”
“Very well then.” Rhea sighed slowly. “Everyone, go and get some rest. Classes begin tomorrow despite the chaos.” She grabbed Amphitrite’s hand. “Come with me, sweetheart. Let’s get you checked in before tomorrow. Ananke’s probably toiling late anyway. She’s a workaholic, that one.”
Don said, “Headmistress, you must let us go up to the Sky Throne tonight.”
“What?” Rhea turned to him.
“When we went to Othrys, Zeus and Shade were the only ones with offensive abilities. And we could’ve gotten crushed if you hadn’t shown up. We all need to sit on the throne to see what gifts we receive.”
“Tempting … but, no,” Rhea said. “I already have three hotheads with unwieldy deity magic. Gaia knows I don’t need nine of you running around with powers you can’t control, adding to the growing tension.”
Hestia scoffed. “You don’t have to worry about me, Headmistress. I’m not one of the hotheads of which you speak.”
Meter joined Tia’s side. “Neither am I.” She points to Shade, Don, and me. “Now those boys … they are the ones you have to worry about.”
“Poseidon,” Headmistress Rhea began, “you raise a compelling argument. I’ll take it under consideration.”
We all dispersed to our residences, except Don who clearly wanted to stick close to Amphitrite. “I told you going to Othrys would be a bad idea,” Don said to me as he turned to walk away with Amphitrite and Rhea.
Metis at my side, I reluctantly ambled along the trail back to my bungalow. I hadn’t wanted to leave Othrys in the first place. At least, not until I had some answers. Someone over there knew something. I didn’t trust anyone wearing the blood-red omicron of Othrys Hall.
My heavy heart tightened. How could Amalthea and Aristaeus be dead? And the rest of the Kouretes? What would happen to the goat operation? It wasn’t like I was going back to take care of them. But, I was absolutely going to visit a sack of kickass on those responsible.
Yet, I couldn’t discount that when I had confronted Atlas at Othrys earlier, I had nothing going in my favor. We were off campus. In hostile territory. And outnumbered, by Titans alone. And there was no true telling how many Oceanids and Potamoi there were. Hundreds maybe. They were nearly as plentiful as the rivers and streams themselves. Not to mention, I had not one shred of evidence for my claim. Just a gut hunch, really.
In the calm of the MO Prep landscape, it occurred to me that I’d almost ripped apart the fabric of the Olympian friendship bonds. To have my friends and siblings split over whether to help me was something I’d never imagined would happen. I guessed I thought they’d come willingly. But perhaps this mission hadn’t been the best one to test loyalties on. I had wanted so badly to be a part of something larger than myself. MO Prep was it. The Olympians were it. I hoped I hadn’t pushed them away permanently.
Metis remained quiet for the walk. Her presence was support enough. We reached my one-room bungalow, my home away from home, or away from Crete, rather. An oil torch burned outside the doorway. I crossed the threshold with the torch to light some candles inside, Metis rubbing a circle on my back. I loved when she did that.
“Hey, you,” she whispered. “There’s nothing I can say right now to make any of this better. Just know that I will always be here for you, to talk, to listen, to ride into harm’s way, to … whatever.” She slid both of her palms to my cheeks. They seared into my anger-warmed skin. She pulled my face to hers. Our lips touched and she jumped back, licked her lips, and then dragged two fingers across them. “Ouch!”
“What?” I said. My gaze roamed over her ivory skin.
“You just shocked me.”
“Really? I felt nothing.”
“Ohhh …” she sassed. “You felt nothing, huh?”
I sucked my teeth. “Not nothing… you know what I meant.”
“Well, I felt plenty. Electrified. And not in a good way.” She chuckled and wagged her finger at me. “You need to control that … whatever that is.”
I glanced downward. “Sorry.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I like positive energy as much as the next girl, but let’s try to turn the current off … at least when I’m kissing you.”
I looked from under my brows into her hazel eyes and flashed as wicked a grin as I could manage.
“Now … as for that punch you gave Atlas tonight.” Metis’ oval face brightened as she purred, “Baby, I haven’t been that turned on since … you toppled his ass at the wrestling match last term.”
“Wait …” I turned to face her. “You got aroused by that … all the way back then?”
Her cheeks blushed fiercely, even in the darkness. “And then there was that time you smashed Pallas at the wrestling match …”
Images of both nights flashed through my brain like searing jabs. The leg swipe that sent Atlas to the ground with a thud at the wrestling match at Othrys. The punch that landed on Pallas like a hammer striking an anvil at the wrestling championships here at MO Prep.
“Ummm, yeah …” I said. “The last time you got turned on, Tia was abducted, Ouranos was murdered, and I was the number one suspect for both. Bad things happen when you get aroused.”
Metis gripped my wrist with a feather-light touch, and then slowly applied more pressure until I could feel her pulse in time with my own. “I am so sorry about that. But—”
“Admit it. Violence makes you warm and tingly under that clingy chiton you’re so fond of.”
“I regret nothing.” She released my hand, pinched the sides of her dress, and inched it higher on her hips. She closed her eyes, and then smiled after a moment like she was reliving something. “You want me to protest, but I can’t. I won’t. Displays of unabashed manliness are my weakness. Virility arouses me. I know this about myself. It’s a good thing you supply me with my fix.” She bit her lip in such a slow, seductive manner that my breathing came faster. She moved close to me, sliding her hand around my neck, and then whispering into my ear. “But you’re incorrect about the last time you really had me ready to disrobe. It wasn’t the night of the wrestling championships after the Pallas take down. The last time you could’ve had your way with me was the night just before we went to the Underworld.”
I scoffed, “But I didn’t hit anyone that night.”
“But all that lightning and thunder,” she purred. “Mmmm, damn. One day you’re going to make some powerful children.”
Thinking back to that night, I closed my eyes and felt myself growing closer to Metis in many ways. I chuckled. Despite our humble beginnings, she had always had my back when it counted, even sacrificing herself in the Underworld last term.
“Yeah,” she whispered into my ear. “We have some un
finished business.”
CHAPTER SIX
The following morning, my feet indented the sand as Aegean surf crashed and hissed up to my toes. Before every transport of goats to various schools across the ocean, Amalthea had always recited the following to Aristaeus:
The water’s edge promises the full mystery of the sea, both the power of possibility and the power to imprison. The sea’s depth taunts all manner of dangers intent on keeping one beneath its surface. And the crowned dome of blue above, reflects the sea in every way.
Limitless … danger.
Safe Travels.
Always.
To my rear stood the two stout columns that had once greeted the bratty version of myself when I first arrived to attend Mount Olympus Prep almost a month ago. I shook my head at the thought of that moment. So much had changed since then. The grooves from where the Kouretes’ ships’ hulls cleaved the beachhead had long since been erased.
Hyperion’s mares hauled the fiery blaze above the distant early morning horizon. Helios commanded the chariot now in his father’s absence. Rage still coursed my veins every time I thought about Hyperion. The first time we’d faced off, back on Crete, I was ill-prepared—I wasn’t that kid anymore. I now possessed powers of my own.
Still, I chomped at the bit to get the upcoming trials against Kronos and Hyperion over and done. There were debts to pay.
I retraced my steps back between the giant columns and placed my hand atop the illuminated blue Hurler post. I closed my eyes and envisioned the Cloudwell back at school. By the time I blinked, my body had liquefied into minute particles and shot off toward my destination.
When I reformulated into one solid piece again, I took a deep breath, checking myself over to ensure I hadn’t suffered any ill effects from the ride. Then, I proceeded to climb the Cloudwell. No matter how many times I stepped on those pillowy, dense fog stairs, the first step always sent my stomach into my throat as if I’d fall forever.
The High Court Page 3
