Rise of the Goddess (****All proceeds from the Rise of the Goddess anthology will go to benefit the Elliott Public Library**** Book 1)

by Catherine Stovall

  Pushing herself slowly, as if she feared she might collapse, Kel forced herself to stand. Unwilling to use magic to maintain a flame for light, she asked him to call in a lantern and sent a spark to the wick. A warm and natural glow formed a globe of luminescence around the pair, and Kore had to fight to conceal his shock. Deep circles ringed Kel’s eyes, making her look as if she had recently suffered a broken nose. Her body had begun to emaciate, and the exhaustion she felt was clear. Even the simple act of lighting the wick had drawn more life from her weakened form.

  He moved to her side, wrapping his arm around her waist, and Kel leaned heavily on him as she took shallow breaths. He could feel the sweat on her brow, and the texture of her skin had become clammy. Using his free hand to brush her hair back from her face, he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

  Whispering, because to speak aloud seemed disrespectful to the void around them, Kore tried to help her find the way. “We can do this Kel. Remember the love. Remember the way your father used to kiss your mother when he thought we were not looking. Remember Xavier, remember Artamus, remember Halan. You must remember the nights on the beach, dancing under the moon after sipping too much ritual wine. Remember how the world once was. Remember how your mother’s people once treasured her. Put all of the bad behind you, and just hold those precious memories in your heart.”

  Kel nodded, acknowledging that she remembered those days, but the memories did not seem to push past the dark shroud clinging to her. Her mind replayed the scenes, but her soul had turned away. Staggering, she fought to find the light inside.

  Reaching up to wrap her hand around the seed that still hung from her neck, the one her mother had given her, she felt a spark ignite. The recollection shook her awake, and as she spoke out loud, the love returned.

  Her voice was still hoarse, but the tenor grew stronger as she asked Kore about those long ago days. “Remember when my mother would take us out beneath the peach tree and read to us from that old book?”

  He secretly cheered inside. “Yes, the story about the very first goddess.”

  Kel stood a little straighter. “Yes, the one that isn’t in the song, but all of Wade’s overseers believed to be true.” As she spoke, a light encompassed her, and next to it, the lantern seemed dull. “It was the peach tree.”

  Kore smiled down at her face, and saw that, within the blinding light, her features were filling out once more, and her eyes were a rich, lively brown. “She used to give us peaches, and we would laugh at how she called our kisses afterward sticky sweet.”

  Kel stepped forward out of the protective circle of his arms. “I know the secret.”

  Kore could not hide the triumphant smile that spread across his face. “Then let us watch the world be reborn.”

  She untied the leather strap that had remained with her for fifteen hundred years and held the peach pit in the palm of her hand. Kissing it gently, Kel held it up for Kore to do the same as she paid tribute. “Sticky sweet kisses in memory of Wade’s most beloved goddess, Nia.”

  Kel curled her fist around her last memento of her mother, and plunged her hands deep within the blackness near her feet. She felt life spring into existence at her touch. The emptiness became solid, but shifting, like the fertile soil that once covered Wade. The bleakness of the void lightened, and a hint of color bled through.

  The words to an ancient birthing song found its way to her lips. She sang the seedling from its core and guided it upward despite the sting of her vocal chords. Within seconds, it grew from the porous shell into a sapling with vibrant, spear-shaped leaves.

  Kel’s voice was the same deep and magical voice as it had been when she had faced down Vulcanus, but instead of anger, she spoke with love. “Do you see it, Kore? The spear is the symbol of the male, the root of the world, the strength of the colony.”

  The trunk and branches grew in length and girth as the tiny buds appeared. Kel bent her face close to one of the unopened flowers, and whispered. “The mother, the daughter, and the sister are born.”

  The flowers expanded from their leafy cocoons into beautiful pink petals. Their sweet fragrance filled the air. Kel reached out for her right hand, her warrior. Kore came to her side, helping to steady her. The smile they shared was one of love, friendship, and awe of the beauty around them. Hand-in-hand, they took in the wonder of the magic she had created.

  As with all things in life, the flowers began to die, their graceful petals falling to the ground. The fruit of the trees expanded from hard green buds into swollen and juice-filled delights. Kore gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

  “And the seeds that will go forth to carry the love are born.” Kel’s eyes were alight as she cast the final vestiges of her pain asunder.

  Finally able to look away from the miraculous transformation, the goddess and her warrior took in the changes all around them. The world was coming together, bit by bit. Not a fully formed landscape, but an existence of new, budding life. The smell of rich soil wafted on a gentle breeze, and millions of tiny plants began to poke their stalks upward. The darkness of night had lifted completely, and the sky, though not yet blue, held a tint of what it could be.

  Goddess Kel and the Warrior Kore looked out over a brand new world. The taint of the Vulcans was gone, along with every sinister-hearted god who had raped the old world of Wade. As all things do, the new land contained both dark and light in perfect harmony. Life gave way to death, and death gave way to life, as it should be in the natural progression of things. The moment was bittersweet, and the tears that rolled down their cheeks were filled with joy and sorrow. Victory and renewal could not mask the sense of loss that filled their hearts.

  Love, Lust, Beauty by Jackie McMahon

  Hunting the Dark

  Marion C. Lanier

  The gods were dead.

  It had been three months since Artemis had seen another god. That had been the night Hades killed her father. She had tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t believe her, not over his own brother. She had seen the pain in his eyes at the betrayal. After that night, she stayed away from other gods. She never stopped at the same place twice. She ran. It was a cowardly thing to do and she felt the shame of it. Still, she ran. He would come for her eventually, as he had the others. It was only a matter of time.

  She ran through the night, crossing rooftops as smoothly as a flight of steps. She ran under the silver moon and fading stars. There was no light or sound coming from the city below. It was a dead thing, like everything else, the only noise the faint breath of wind rustling her hair and the soft whispers her shoes made as she ran.

  She kept moving, heading towards the river, never slowing her momentum. Dawn was approaching, the dark of night holding tightly to the land. Her rooftop runway ended and she slid down a large signpost, landing hard. It was the first time she'd stopped in the last hour and she savored every breath. The chill air made her muscles cramp and twitch. She longed for the warmth of the sun. Soon, she could rest.

  A deep howl sounded from within the city and her heart skipped in her chest. Another howl, then a third joined the first, the eerie cries caused her skin to prickle and she lurched to her feet. The bays continued, and she could tell the hounds were moving towards her. She had to make it to the river. She forced herself to move faster and faster, until the broken city moved by in a blur of steel and concrete.

  All three howls were behind her and closing in. The river was more than a mile away and the sun would not be enough to save her. She slid to a stop and looked around. This place was as good a place as any. She took a few moments to prepare herself and stood in the dark, waiting for the hunters to find her.

  She didn’t hear them so much as she felt their presence. It was like being near a furnace that radiated despair instead of heat. She already had her pistols out, loaded and ready. Three shadows leapt over the cars in the road, landing quietly. The hellhounds stared at her with eyes full of hunger. They kept their distance, circling, but she could hear their dark whis
pers trying to weaken her resolve.

  “Why do you fight? You cannot win. Just give in.”

  “You’ve struggled so long. You deserve to rest.”

  “They’re all gone. You’re the last.”

  “You don’t have to hurt. He can make the pain go away.”

  “He’s coming for you. There’s nowhere to run anymore.”

  She fired a round in front of one of the hounds, the bullet sparking on the pavement. The hellhound returned a menacing grin, showing off rows of teeth like that of a shark. She thought it would charge then, but they threw back their heads and howled in unison.

  The sound seemed wrong, like it didn’t belong in this world. It distorted the air around them, causing ripples. A call answered the discordant cry and she heard a flap of wings before a patch of darkness that blotted out the stars coalesced in front of her. The shadows faded in wisps like black smoke and there stood a tall, pale-skinned man in a black suit. His long black hair was streaked with silver at the temples and pulled back with black silk. His goatee was meticulously trimmed and shaped. His eyes were soulless, dark and cold.

  “Hello, Artemis.”

  She sneered back at him, “We stopped being family long ago.”

  He smiled at her, a cold thing that didn't touch his eyes. “Granted. That doesn't change the situation. I didn't come to fight. I came to make you an offer.”

  “An offer? You're trying to recruit me? I'm no traitor, Hades.”

  “Traitor? Who would you be betraying, exactly? You are the only one left. The others have fled, joined the Dark, or have been destroyed.”

  “How far you have fallen, Hades? I will not betray the memory of those who fought against you and your master. I will not betray myself. I will die before that happens.”

  “You can't stop Him. No one can. Join us. You have no idea what it's like. How long has it been since you had any real power? Our temples have been destroyed for millennia. No one bleeds for us, calls out our names in worship. Everyone fears Death. They pay tribute to Him with every funeral and monument. You can't imagine how powerful He is. He can restore you, make you even more than you once were.”

  “At what cost? My soul? Our world is a dying husk, its people reduced to savages and scavengers. How many more will he devour?”

  “I should care for the people of this world? Ha! They abandoned us, left us to wither and die, replacing us with material idols and a damned Carpenter. We broke their idols and devoured their gods. There is nothing left for them to worship but Death.”

  “I mourn for your loss. You say He has granted you some great power, but you cannot fool me. You are a shade of your former self, bowing and scraping like some servant boy. You are broken, like this world and the master you serve.”

  His sneer sent a chill up her spine. “Have it your way. Cerberus.”

  The three nightmare hounds stopped pacing and growled at her, the sound so loud it made the windows in the nearby cars shake and rattle. They stalked towards her, moving as if one giant beast. With the order given, their aura of suffocating despair changed into one of bone-chilling malice. Their voices nearly drowned out her thoughts with promises of pain and torment.

  She raised her pistols, shooting with a single motion, and two bullets hammered into Hades' chest. The hellhounds froze and looked back at their master, cocking their heads in a very doglike fashion.

  Hades smirked as tendrils of darkness leaked from the bullet wound. “Really? Tell me you didn't think that would work.”

  She shrugged and put a bullet through the closest hound. The dog's head exploded into black ash and the rest of his body disintegrated into nothing. The other two hounds howled and charged her, but she put them down just as quickly, scattering their essence like smoke in the wind.

  “You bitch! How dare you defy me? I offered you a chance. Hell, I would have at least made your death quick.” Hades flexed his hand and a black fedora coalesced into existence. He dusted it off before placing it on his head. “My turn.”

  He vanished from sight.

  His laugh, dark and cold as the city around her, echoed with no source. She turned slowly, kept her breathing calm, and strained to hear any sound that might give away his position.

  He hit her in the ribs hard and she felt one crack under the blow. She got off a shot, and Hades' laughter drowned out the gunshot. The next attack busted her lip and knocked her off her feet, but she recovered quickly, rolling into a defensive crouch.

  He circled her, unseen, unheard, battering her with blows and insults. She was on her hands and knees, gasping and spitting blood, her head spinning and her eyes blurred. Her pistols lay out of reach and she had precious little power left to call on—having put most of it into her shots. She had hoped it would do more to Hades, but at least it had killed his monstrous dog.

  “Now who is the broken one? Where are your hounds, Artemis? Where are your maidens? Can you not shoot me down like your other prey? The great huntress, yet you cannot even find me. You are weak. You are going to die. I will send you to my master and He will use your soul to open the Way. It is a great purpose, more than you deserve.”

  She stood slowly, blood dripping from her fingers and her knees trying to give. She was tired of running, tired of fighting. Gasping for air, her broken ribs made it painful just to take a breath. She stood alone on a dark street in a broken city on a dying world and cried.

  “Goodbye, Artemis.”

  She turned and plunged her knife, red with her own blood, into nothingness. She felt the impact of the blow, the resistance and sudden give as the blade sunk in where there was only air. The blade vanished, the hilt floating in midair. The air shimmered like a mirage and Hades stood there, her hunting knife impaled into his heart.

  He fell to his knees, gasping and spitting blood. He looked at Artemis, his eyes wide and uncomprehending.

  “You're right. I am a hunter. I stalk my prey. I learn its habits. The way it moves, the way it hunts. I watched you butcher Hermes. I saw you kill Athena. I was watching when you brought down Zeus, Buddha, and Christ. I could not help them then, but I learned from their deaths. You killed them all the same way. You toyed with them, outmatched them with your power and taunted them for scorning you. When it was time for the final blow, you did it yourself. You stabbed them in the back.”

  Hate burned in Hades' dark eyes as he struggled to get his hands on Artemis, but she stood just out of his reach.

  “I'll be back for you, my dear. I'll be reborn, stronger than before. I'll hunt you down and rip out your heart with my bare hands.”

  Artemis looked down on him, her voice harsh and sharp as the blade of her knife, “Goodbye, Hades.”

  She grabbed her knife and jerked it from his chest with a twist. His scream pierced her ears and every window shattered at the sound. Black shadows boiled from Hades' eyes, mouth, and the gaping wound in his chest—spiraling up into the sky. Finally, the scream died with him as he collapsed to the ground and the darkness faded quickly as the light of dawn broke the horizon.

  She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and wiped the blood from her knife. She used a scrap of cloth to bandage the cut on her arm where she had bound her blood to the blade. Numbly recovering her pistols, she limped back over to Hades and stared down at his wasted corpse.

  “I'm sorry, Uncle.” Her emotions boiled within her, but she shoved them down. She had mourned the loss of her family already. There were no more tears to shed. Not for this one.

  She felt the sun’s rays warm on her back. Dawn had come. With its champion defeated and night fading, the Dark would be weak. The tension left her shoulders and she relaxed.

  Artemis reached down and picked up the fedora, turning it over in her hands. She flicked her wrist and the Helm of Darkness flickered, changing into a black beret. She inspected it for a moment before slipping it on.

  She had to keep moving. It was only a matter of time before someone else came after her. This time, Death would send
someone stronger. She took a deep breath and let it out slow as she found her resolve. She might be the last god this dying world had, but it was still her home. She would fight. She would win.

  Artemis adjusted her black beret, closed her eyes and vanished without a trace.

  Mother of Monsters

  Andrea L. Staum

  Erica didn’t usually go into the field, but there was no avoiding it this time; the danger was too connected to her to avoid. She had been reluctant at first, but Greely had assured her it would be all right and chosen her partner for the mission based on capability. Her partner would be able to handle the truth of her connection to the beast. Erica didn’t know how much Greely had explained about the mission to her, but he felt confident in the choice. However, the last thing she wanted was to babysit one of her students.

  It could be worse. Hestia Diedrich had proven herself capable even if she seemed timid. Not that the girl had reason to be cautious—her clairvoyant abilities had been used against her and she was lucky that her mind hadn’t been more damaged. It would make things difficult, since she couldn’t communicate telepathically. Erica had been surprised Greely had recruited her after witnessing what Hestia had gone through, but he always got the talents he wanted.

  Erica smiled at that. He had gotten more than he expected when he recruited ‘Madam Estelle’ from the circus sideshow. He thought he was getting a strong telepath, not a long forgotten goddess in hiding. She hadn’t felt safe for a long time, but something about the head of the Clark Agency had made her feel welcome. It hadn’t happened immediately, trust takes time to build, but eventually she showed him her true self. He hadn’t recoiled in horror, but the relationship she had longed for never blossomed. Then again, Greely Clark never mixed business with pleasure.