by JoAnna Grace
“Welcome to Olympia, lads,” Andreas said as a broad smile stretched across his face. His arms encompassed their surroundings. “Welcome…to the Heavens.”
“Holy Zeus,” Charles whispered in awe.
“No words. There are no words. How am I supposed to document this place when I have not the vocabulary?” Hayden spoke in a daze, taking in every detail. Surely he would find a way to write his experiences down to share with future generations.
They all followed as Andreas made his way down the hill on a white, stone-paved path. Ryse turned back to see the building they’d come from. It was a small temple with round columns, just enough to hold the portal. More soldiers stood guard at the doors.
“First, you must all be purified.” Andreas directed them to another white-stoned building. “Enter and allow the priestesses to cleanse you. The gods want to get this matter sorted. They don’t like havin’ all of you here and yer homes unattended. The great council convenes as soon as all the Deities are done.”
“Have the others arrived?” Hammon asked. His inquiry was for one Deity in particular.
“Yer son has arrived, Master Hammon. He anxiously waits in the temple of Zeus,” Andreas replied with a kind smile. He slapped Ryse on the arm and then gripped his forearm. “You and I will catch up later. I have missed you, old friend.”
“And I you.” Ryse’s voice was thick with emotion.
Andreas bowed to them all, his hand fisted over his heart, and turned to leave.
“I will see you again, right?” Ryse asked.
“Aye, I got a pint with yer name on it!”
“They have pints here?”
Andreas spread his arms to encompass their surroundings once again. “It is Heaven, after all.” His carefree grin stretched ear to ear. Seeing Andreas so happy, so full of purpose and—life—gave him the greatest sense of relief and hope he’d ever experienced. If Andreas had found such overwhelming peace in the afterlife, surely his father would have the same peace. Ryse didn’t know what he expected of the afterlife, but thus far, it was everything he could imagine and more.
“Brother?” Hayden called from the entrance of the cleansing temple.
“Coming.” Ryse allowed a smile for Andreas.
The cleansing was both a physical and mental exercise. Having maidens in white robes wash down his body as he stood in a shallow pool caused him great humiliation, even if he did have a towel draped around his waist. The women’s faces were covered, but they saw enough. Going from public nudity to meditation didn’t work so well for him. He was wound tight again.
“Only when you clear your mind and heart can you enter the holy temple,” a woman whispered. “Close your eyes, warrior.” He could have sworn there was a hint of laughter in her tone.
Ryse closed his eyes and tried to get rid of the noise that had taken up permanent residence in his head over the last few days. He tried to concentrate on the one thing that always soothed his soul. Avery.
With eyes closed, he remembered the way her hair felt as the soft curls sifted through his fingers. As he took a deep breath, he caught her scent: soap and berries sprinkled with sugar. By the gods, she had smelled so sweet the night she had taken him into her body. His mouth watered to taste her again, to kiss her lips and taste the richness that was dynamically Avery. He’d give anything to hold her once more and hear her laughter or her southern voice of honey as it caressed his ears.
“And you shall, Ryse Castille, Master Thracian and Deity Prince.”
He opened his eyes to see the owner of the voice that ended his trance. The woman stood tall and, even when Ryse rose to his full height, she was still taller. Her jet black hair was loose and fell in a silky wave to the floor along with navy-colored robes. Her eyes, the most intense glacier blue he’d ever beheld, stayed steady on him. In his heart, he knew this woman.
“Rhea.” Her name was whispered in awe.
“I am.”
Ryse stood quickly. “Avery? Where is she?”
The woman never blinked, but she did curve her lips into a ghost of a smile. “She is well, Master Thracian. Walk with me.” She linked her hand in the crook of his elbow. They left the temple and crossed a field full of lavender blooms, the purple sea spreading out for miles. “She was not supposed to die.”
“Then…why?”
“Free will. When I created the Olympians in the dawn of time, I fashioned a civilization of intelligent creatures who knew their place.” Her hard tone surprised him, but he remained silent as she spoke. “My people worshipped me, they adored me because I created them for that purpose. Over time, I saw where I had made a mistake. The people didn’t worship me out of thanksgiving or appreciation. They were simply created to. Their affections were stale and tasteless on the tongue. Their prayers were but a series of meaningless, memorized words. Which would you rather have, Master Thracian, an army of soldiers who follow because they were programmed or an army of those who choose to do so?”
Ryse nodded his head. He fully understood. Loyalty out of choice and faith ran much deeper in the soul than loyalty out of habit or tradition or fear.
“Upon realizing my mistake, I bestowed upon my sons the obligation to watch over my creation. I spent millennia scrutinizing the decision to endow free will to the people. I determined that if we, the gods, gave them something worth following, they would choose us on their own.”
“That’s where the Deities came into play?”
“Yes,” she said and smiled. She flicked her wrist and the purple blooms of lavender turned into yellow tulips. Rhea made a soft noise of displeasure and flicked her wrist again. The field changed to an endless vista of blue roses, just like the ones he’d given Avery when they first met.
“The gods were to guide you. Zeus, in particular. He wanted the responsibility and I gave it to him. Over time, he has forgotten his duties and he has let the people fall into disarray. The bloodlines are diluted. Olympians breed with humans and those of different lines. The original gifts of the gods have died out or mutated. Take your Elite, Brenden, for example. He should not exist. He is a genetic anomaly, a monster in the truest sense of the word.”
“He is a good man,” Ryse snapped defensively.
Rhea held up her hand. “I speak only of his blood, not his heart. I see the value in the man. He is loyal and will be of service to Avery. My point is that my creation has shifted the balance of power and I cannot have that. They forget who gave them life and who can take it away. A people without religion, without purpose, and without a moral guide are doomed. Look at the myriad of human civilizations that imploded because they became lost to greed and power. I cannot have the Olympians doing the same. I would rather destroy them all than watch them kill one another slowly by giving in to selfish desires. That is why I created Avery. She is of pure blood, no matter who birthed her. You are twice-blessed by the gods, a son of a Deity; no purer blood exists. The two of you are the beginning of a new lineage, one that must guide our people back to the gods. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do.” Ryse’s jaws clenched.
Rhea touched his cheek and brought his face up so she could see his eyes. “Salina is only the beginning. There are others out there who are far more destructive. You must take up your sword and wage war against those who threaten your world.” Her face hardened and, for the first time since their walk began, he saw the creator of the universe in her eyes. This goddess was power personified. “I was not exaggerating when I said I would rather extinguish the Olympians than watch them fall to ruin. And I have the capacity to do thusly.”
Ryse swallowed the lump in his throat. The goddess was quite literally putting the fate of the Olympian world in his hands. If he didn’t take care of the problem, she would.
“Go. You have a trial to attend and I have a Grace to raise from the dead.”
***
RYSE ENTERED THE temple. The combined auras of all the gods and Deities in the room left him breathless. How long had it been since suc
h a monumental gathering? All the earthly Deities in one place, the gods and goddesses perched high on their thrones and the lower gods filling the standing room.
The white marble temple was cold and hard, but with the many bodies filling the space, one would never know. Soaring three stories into the air, suspended under the dome ceiling, was a massive sphere resembling the Earth. Continents and oceans, brown and blue shapes swirled with the white of clouds. The sphere rotated precisely as the real Earth would.
Light spilled in from the tall windows around the sphere and flooded the circular room below. On one side were the thrones of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. The three sat higher than the others that stair-stepped down from there. For once, he was thankful for his mother’s teachings on the gods. He knew each of them. Ares, Athena, Artemis, Apollo, Hera, and Hestia sat on the next row. Hermes, Hephaestus, Persephone, and Aphrodite were nearest to the floor.
“Come now, son of Zeus and Ares,” Hera called out to him, her elegant hand stretched forward. “We’ve been waiting.”
The room hushed and many faces turned to him. As he made his way through the throng, he wished like hell he could be invisible for once.
In the center of the temple was an open area surrounded by a continuous marble bench. There sat the other Deities. Charles represented Europe. Hammon and his son Eekon represented Africa. Dimitrious of Russia, Gabel of Australia, and Amais of South America. The only continent that didn’t have a Deity was virtually uninhabitable. Hayden sat near Hammon and visibly sighed when Ryse made eye contact. He’d saved his brother a place.
Ryse greeted each Deity, some he had not seen in many decades. Each man offered his condolences on the loss of his father. But each man also said Troy was lucky to have found the afterlife, after experiencing it for themselves.
The conversations in the room started again and created a low hum. Ryse was thankful no longer to be the center of attention. Yet he was soon the center of a goddess’s attention.
“Master Thracian. You are made of flesh and blood after all.” Athena made her way over to him, her body barely covered in the leather strips that held up her weapons. Her eyes traveled down his body and back up again, pleased with what they saw. “I was beginning to believe you were only a myth.”
Ryse bowed his head to her. “My goddess.”
Making one complete circle around his body, Athena came to stand directly in front of him, so close he could smell the leather she wore. “I contributed my blood to your Grace, did you know that?” She raised a single brow. Her face was hard and square, more masculine.
Ryse was a pro at his poker face; even in front of the goddess of war, he would not show his intimidation. “Thank you, Athena.”
The goddess leaned in and her cold eyes met his. “It will come in handy later.”
Athena winked and turned away, dismissing Ryse to take his place with the other Deities.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hayden whispered from beside him.
“We shall see, brother. We shall see.”
Ryse’s attention went to Zeus. The god, clad in gold and so beautiful to look upon, stood and held out his arms. Every person watched him. The room went deathly silent, as if even the walls awaited his next command.
“Sons and daughters, gods, goddesses, and earthly deities; what joy it gives me to have you gathered in my temple. If only it were for celebration and not for this solemn event.” Zeus lowered his hands and motioned for those who could to be seated. All the gods on the tiers below him sat on their thrones.
“Never in the history of our race has there been such a meeting of power. Perhaps that is why this council is necessary now. We will hear the testimony of those associated with the murder of my son, Troy. Who better to recall the death, than he?”
Zeus waved one hand towards a door. The marble slab swept open and Ryse’s heart stopped.
“Father,” he and Hayden exclaimed in unison. Ryse reached for his brother instinctively, but Hayden had already gripped his sleeve.
Troy, or at least the spirit of him, floated into the chamber.
“You may embrace your father,” Zeus said. “For your parting was sudden and painful. You shall be gifted this chance to once more be together.”
Troy looked to the men and a huge smile crossed his face. Spirit became flesh with each step he took toward them until Ryse felt his father’s arms around him, solid and strong. Troy pulled both his sons against him and wept.
“My boys. My beloved sons. How I love you. Forgive me for not telling you every day how proud I am of you.”
Hayden cried on his father’s shoulder, but Ryse simply closed his eyes and wished Mother was here to see her husband once again.
Charles stood back and waited until the men had separated. Then he dropped to his knees in front of Troy. “Forgive me, my oldest and dearest friend, for the circumstances that led you here.”
Troy took Charles by the shoulders and helped him to his feet. “You are a good man, Charles. I do not hold you accountable for Salina’s actions. Do not trouble your heart, my friend.”
Charles’ lip quivered as he bowed his head to Troy and took his seat again.
“I forget how emotional the humanoids can be,” Athena said to Ares. He tilted his head and looked at the men like bugs under a microscope.
Troy grimaced and urged Hayden and Ryse to sit down again. “Shall we continue?”
Zeus brought out the Thracian traitors and Salina. Soldiers threw her down onto the marble floor. It took her a couple of tries to sit up with her hands tied behind her back and her ankles bound together. She finally sat on her knees before the chorus of gods. Her blonde hair fell down her back in matted sheets. Ryse felt pity on her until she looked over her shoulder at him and snarled like a feral animal. He growled back, memories of her hands plunging a knife in Avery’s chest staining his mind.
“Cast your eyes away from him,” Zeus bellowed at her. “He is the least of your worries…for now.”
Ryse saw Charles in his periphery. The Deity sat straight and poised, never once looking at Salina, but focusing on the gods.
The last person brought into the chamber was Nikki. She was still unconscious and appeared to be closer to death than when Ryse saw her last, as if her spirit was clinging to life with an iron grip. The soldiers gently lowered her to the floor, using much more finesse than they had with Salina.
“Apollo,” Zeus commanded.
With a nod of acknowledgement, Apollo left his throne and knelt beside Nikki’s weakened body. He touched a finger to her forehead. Healing words, spoken in ancient Greek, entered her body as a river of light. As if evacuating the disease, light chased a black mist from her mouth, ears, and eyes. The particles of shadow drifted in a tornado above her head. The thicker the cloud of evil became, the more Nikki’s body came to life. Her cheeks filled in, the bruises from her eyes disappeared. Color returned to her face and her breaths deepened.
As if the mist might infect him, Apollo slowly backed away from Nikki and the swirling black cloud.
All around the temple, people began to whisper. But their voices were muted by the rumbling growl of Hades.
When the god of the underworld rose from his throne, Ryse realized he was made of the same black mist. The implications were unnerving. Particles formed legs and arms and a torso. Ryse could even make out ghostly, skeletal facial features. Hades was not like Zeus or Poseidon. He did not consist of a human-like body.
The cloudy figure floated down over Nikki and absorbed the blackness that sprang from her mouth. A hand formed as Hades touched Nikki’s cheek. “Poor child,” he rumbled like thunder, his voice more of an echo of great power. “Your body was not created to survive such black magic.”
Hades whipped his head around to Salina and red eyes formed against the darkness. “Such magic should not be on Earth. You have been a busy girl.”
Pure, unadulterated fear sent chills over Ryse.
Salina shivered, but tilted her chin up in de
fiance. She said nothing. Then again, why bother denying anything to a god? Hades knew. They all did. The evidence of her deeds had come from inside Nikki.
Salina had been consorting with demons.
Hades floated back to his throne and the mist formed a body as he sat. His red eyes never left Salina.
A female scream broke through the moment of silence. Nikki sat up with a jolt and gripped her head with her hands. Apollo touched her once more, ending her terror. She slowly lowered her hands and looked about her.
Her hazel eyes went wide when Hestia, goddess of the hearth, extended a hand to help her up. Nikki gawked at the goddess and accepted her aid. She had trouble gaining her balance, but the goddess was patient and held Nikki’s arms until she could support her own weight.
“Am I dead?” Nikki whispered.
“No. You are in the temple of Zeus to account for your actions.”
For a second, Nikki looked confused. She glanced around and finally saw Ryse and Hayden. Her first reaction was one of relief. Then, she eyed Troy and recognition dawned on her face.
“Oh no. Oh dearest gods, no. What have I done?” She gripped her head again and lost her footing. Nikki slumped down to the floor and would have fallen over had Troy not gone to her.
“Easy, Nikki. Breathe.” Troy held her shoulders.
“Forgive me. Oh, Troy, please forgive me. I’m so sorry.” Nikki sobbed uncontrollably, gripping Troy as though her life depended on it.
Ryse couldn’t stand the hysterics any longer. Nikki was emotionally damaged and if her testimony was to be of any use, she had to calm down. The reality of what she had done was too much for her gentle soul to bear.
“Can someone not calm her mind? Is there any way to help her?”
Zeus held out a hand and Nikki’s crying faded. She was still aware of her surroundings, but she wasn’t in a frenzy of emotion. “Stand, Shadow Lady. Speak your truth and recollections.”
