Grace of Gods Boxset: Reincarnated Greek Gods YA/NA Series

by Kyleigh Castronaro

  The sensation disappeared immediately and I sucked in a sharp breath of frustration.

  I could do this. I could be awake and still connect to the magic. Affirmative belief had to count for something, otherwise all of Savannah’s yoga crap was nonsense. I could do this. I could do this. I could do this. I said it repeatedly, focusing on the trees in front of me while I reached out with my magic to reconnect to whatever it was I was feeling.

  The underworld, I hoped, or better – Atlas.

  My frustration grew and finally I broke from my open-eyed trance to punch the tree, my fist sinking right through the bark and would’ve broken through to the other side, if not for the thickness of the tree itself. With a growl, I pulled my hand out and surveyed the damage, no longer surprised by how my hand would magically stitch itself back together.

  “C’mon, damn it!” I could almost hear Zeus chuckle in my head which didn’t help the situation but before I got the chance to lash out at him I heard him softly say, try again. I did.

  The coolness was distant this time, not strong at first until I began walking, clinging to it like it was an invisible piece of yarn guiding me through the trees. I followed it, weaving through the sections of dense shrubbery until I realized the sensation had wound me through the woods, past the town and out to the edge of the ocean. My feet slipped on the sand, grains pushing into the cracks they could find in my shoes.

  The sensation led me to the edge of the water, probing me to get into it, it was stronger here and I had no doubt I was meant to get into it but I didn’t know what would happen. I knew I could swim, I sensed I could breathe underwater but if my magic was expecting me to swim the length of the Atlantic over to England to go to the entrance at Stonehenge, it had another thing coming.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the frigid water, my jaw tensing immediately as the cold water washed into my shoes and brushed my ankles.

  “Gods, I hope this works.” I kept walking, trying to concentrate on the cool sensation of magic instead of the feeling coldness of the water. I paused when I reached the point of my head bobbing above the surface, not ready to submerge myself and try to breathe. This was either going to be a massive success or a massive failure, and I hoped it wasn’t the latter.

  I took several deep breaths, each time with the intention of taking a step forward but my feet held fast in the sand, my will not ready. Waves crashed against my face, salt water burned my nostrils and eyes. I coughed, choking slightly and another wave hit me. I either had to do this or back up.

  I didn’t give myself to the count of three, I stepped and continued to follow the sensation of magic. Once underwater, I wanted to breathe. My lungs begged for it but experience kept me from opening my mouth, sucking in through my nostrils; that’s how it was supposed to be. When the burn became too much and I couldn’t take it anymore, my mouth opened and I gasped. Water filled my mouth and instead of the water filling my lungs, it sat in my mouth and I could breathe.

  Zeus laughed in my head, basking in the naivety of my mortal self. I breathed again, my lungs grateful for the oxygen. Once I was comfortable with the sensation of breathing underwater I refocused on my task, walking deeper until my feet led me to a series of rocks along the coastal floor. I had to swim amongst the rocks until I found an opening that led into the cliff face the water above me was crashing against. Through the opening it became a tunnel and the tunnel became open, water splashing against the edge like it was an indoor cave beach. I emerged from the water, pulling my shirt over my head and wringing it out before dragging a hand over my hair, shaking it out.

  I tucked my shirt into the pocket of my pants before deciding these were too wet as well and pulled them off to wring them out as well. The jeans held the water fast so I ended up folding them and leaving them on a rock with the shirt. It was only Atlas I was going to see anyways and once I was back to my time, I could get dry clothes.

  Looking around the cave, I sought somewhere to go from here before homing in on the sensation of magic once more. It pulled at my navel and I walked until I found a small crack barely big enough to squeeze through. I had qualms about entering it without knowing what was on the other side and it wasn’t like I had any light anyways. The magic pulled harder, I reached out and slid my hand into the crack, feeling around for a moment before deciding the crack opened into a larger cavern like this.

  Going feet first, I grappled for a foothold before heaving my body weight into the hole and shimmying through. On my front and back rock cut at my skin, perhaps deep but I couldn’t tell. Either way my immortal body healed itself and I managed to get all the way through. On the other side I took a precarious, blind step and found myself plunging all the sudden into a dark hole.

  Surprise overtook me as I cried out in alarm, reaching out to try and grab something but the walls were unusually smooth as I fell and fell and fell.

  It felt like eternity before I landed in a painful heap at the bottom. I groaned, turning my neck to relieve the pain shooting through me. The sick crack caused by my bones echoed around me. Thank the Gods, I couldn’t see what kind of damage the fall caused. Pushing myself to my feet, the pull of magic in my navel ached for me to take a step forward.

  “Light,” I managed to grumble, all but begging wherever I was to give me something to see by. Nothing happened as I took a reluctant step, frowning to myself. If I was in the Underworld, it would seem 17th century Hades still held a grudge.

  One hand remained outstretched in front of me to make sure I didn’t walk into a wall while the other slid along the rocky face to my left to ensure I didn’t lose myself in the abyss ahead of me.

  I don’t know how long I walked for but it felt like an eternity. The tunnel ahead of me seemed to stretch on forever until voices echoed back at me.

  “Aidan? Aidan, where are you?” I stopped mid-step, turning to look over my shoulder foolishly only out of reaction to the sound of Savannah’s voice. “Aidan, why did you leave me?” Cold seemed to wash down my spine, I shouldn’t be able to hear Savannah’s voice in the Underworld unless she was dead.

  “Baby?” I replied but she didn’t answer. I took another step forward, forgetting for a moment I was following the pull of magic and instead searching for something else. “I’m here Savannah, where are you? Why are you here?”

  “You need to grow up Aidan, you’re not a baby anymore.” I froze once more as the deep timber of my father’s voice echoed down the tunnel. “Only pathetic sissy boys hide behind their mother’s skirts. If someone has a problem with you, you deal with it. You don’t come home crying.”

  “Leave him alone Jackson, he’s six.”

  “No son of mine is going to be one of those queer mother-loving boys.”

  “Jackson.” I remembered this, it was a vague memory but I remembered it anyways. Some of the older school boys chased me home one day, throwing rocks at my bike until it struck a wheel and I went over the handles. My mother saw it from the kitchen and came running to help me. My father had gotten home and all he saw was my mom yelling at the other boys. My father was always afraid I was going to turn out homosexual as if there was something wrong with that. Every lesson he ever taught me was to ensure I was a real man, a butch man, a man who took what he wanted and screw the little man. I didn’t want to be a real man if that’s what it meant and yet…

  “Aidan, I love you. Don’t you love me too?” Another voice joined the fray, this one an old voice as well. One I hadn’t heard in a long time, my college girlfriend from Freshman year.

  “Love makes you weak.” I knew the words had once come from my lips but it was my father’s voice echoed around me instead. “I told you this was only supposed to be a bit of fun.”

  “You’re an ass, Aidan Cartwright, you’re only out for yourself and screw anyone else.”

  “Well, I’ll screw anyone I want.” This time it was my voice I heard and I winced at the words, knowing what came next, “and I’m done screwing you, Sylvia.” When she slapp
ed me, it only stung but this time the echo of the attack seemed to follow me.

  “How could you?” My stomach dropped, an all too familiar memory echoing toward me.

  “Savannah, stop.”

  “No. I don’t want to hear whatever excuse you’re going to use.”

  “Savannah, I’m sorry. I didn’t want this to happen, but you’re right. I’m no good for you. I’m going to do nothing but hurt you. It was only just a matter of time, so I thought I’d just get it over with. There’s no use in stringing you along and letting you believe it’s going to work out. We’re not the right people for each other. We never were and we deluded ourselves in the heat of the moment into thinking it could work.”

  I still hated myself for this moment. Wanting to save her from hurting her like my father did my mother but only managing to hurt her worse than my father ever did. At least he didn’t flaunt around his mistresses and I rubbed it right in her face – not that I had slept with Charlotte again. In fact, I had been putting her in her place, telling her she needed to lay off Savannah or else.

  She still didn’t trust me, I saw it in her eyes when I spoke to other girls. If I smiled, if I laughed, if I looked at someone the wrong way, Savannah suspected something. I knew it had to do with her insecurity, years of dating jackasses like I used to be but I knew I was never going to get her back to 100% trust.

  Another memory began, the words kept coming. The walls played back all those moments of my life I had buried and pretended to forget because these memories only told me one thing – in the end I had become the man I had tried hard not to be. In the end, I was a carbon copy of my father.

  Swearing to myself I stopped walking, standing there in the dark as the words kept echoing around me, haunting me with the realization everything I had tried hard not to be had become who I was. Sinking to the ground something cracked under my ass. I felt around on the ground, my hand enclosing around something round.

  My fingers moved around on the object, one finger dipping into a hole and coming back out before my finger found another hole. I tried once more and found more holes before jerking my hand away in surprise when I realized it was a skull. Jumping back onto my feet I brushed my ass off, feeling grossed out.

  I couldn’t see anything despite looking around before realizing this had to be one of the traps of the Underworld. I had almost fallen into it as well. Or maybe I had… The voices seemed to continue to echo around in my head. It was hard to concentrate on the pull of the magic. It seemed to have faded away now, overwhelmed by the tumultuous emotions going through me.

  The voices and memories continued to float toward me. Unable to bear it anymore, I started to run. I ran from the voices, from the memories and from the stark realization I was a terrible person. How did Savannah put up with me? How did Savannah love me? I was destined to hurt her the way my father hurt my mother.

  I had grown up watching him hurting her repeatedly, crying herself to sleep and wake up the next morning pretending she wasn’t hurting at all. My mother was the strongest person I knew and yet my father seemed to make it his mission to break her as slowly as possible. He wanted to chip away at her until he could hold her in the palm of his hand and crush her. I always suspected if I hadn’t managed to get her away from him he would’ve destroyed her, killed her with a broken heart.

  After a while the tunnel broke into light and I slowed, looking around to see where I was. Several sconces of fire hung on the walls, flickering orange light enough for me to see a wooden grate in the middle of the floor. The voices were gone. But their ghostly echoes continued to knock around in my head.

  I needed to focus on getting home, leaving this place behind for good. I could get home to Savannah, apologize to her, and make things right for all the Gods.

  Grabbing the wood grate, I pulled it and peered into more darkness. Looking at the flame, I decided to take one with me. Holding my hand into the hole, I tried to get a glimpse of what I was going down to when something reached out and pulled me into the hole. I felt like I was being vacuumed downward, my body squeezed tightly between two cement rollers.

  The chute opened and I landed in a heap on the ground, the flame in my hand out. Pushing myself onto my feet I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the feeling of magic, when all the sudden the lights turned on and I found myself blinded.

  “Who are you?”

  Chapter 19

  “Aid-“ I stopped before catching myself. My mortal name would mean nothing to him, “Zeus, God of the Gods. And you are Atlas, the Guardian of the Souls.”

  “Zeus? But, how?” He looked flustered and concerned, his eyes flicking to the walls. He looked exactly like the Atlas of my time, not a day of age difference between them. It would’ve been unnerving, if not for the fact the last couple of weeks had demanded my ability to accept things as they appeared because magic likely had something to do with it.

  “I’m not the Zeus of your time, I’ve come from the future.” Atlas at least had the decency to not look surprised. “You released the souls too early and when Zeus was free, he mated with another Goddess from the future. Their offspring plagues the future now, destroying the world and the pantheon as we know it.” He looked alarmed as he stared at me. I was confident not anyone could show up down here but he had reason to question whether I was who I said I was.

  Looking at my hand, I drew on the magic inside of me, closing my eyes and feeling the coolness flood through my veins until I concentrated it in my fist. I felt the sting of the lightning bolt before opening my eyes to see it. Atlas stared at the weapon in awe before sinking onto his knee in a deep bow.

  “My lord, I am sorry.” He held one hand over his heart and I reached out to tell him to stand.

  “It’s fine, I’ve fixed it. The purpose in my coming back to the past was to correct your error, which has led to many problems in the future. The release of Zeus’ soul has been dealt with and now I need to be brought back to my time.”

  “My lord, I am not a Titan of Time.”

  “No, I know you don’t have any way of dealing with my time issue. Which is why I wanted you to release Cronos’ soul and I will use his power to take myself back to the future.” I snorted, feeling nothing like Michael J. Fox when I said it.

  “Cronos?”

  “He is the Titan of Time, is he not?”

  “Oh, well, yes. Of course,” Atlas stammered, looking around the room. I sighed, rapidly losing my patience. This was a far different Titan than the one I was used to back in 2000-and whatever. This one was timid and meek, I could only wonder what kind of influence raising a Demi-God would have on him. “I can only release the soul, not keep it here.”

  “I know how it works, but you have the ability to track the souls, don’t you?”

  “Oh, well, yes.” He repeated himself, looking dumbfounded at the idea.

  “Can you do it?” My waning patience hit the end of its reserves and I got a little snappish. Atlas nodded his head and walked over to the wall, reaching for the stone and laying his palm against it as magic flowed from his fingertips and the walls began to move, revealing a niche where a small wooden chest sat. It was carved to depict images of the Greek Gods and the latches holding it together were gilded. He grabbed the chest and pulled it out of the niche, turning and looking around.

  He paused for a moment before balancing the chest with one arm against his stomach and using his hand to summon a rocky table from the ground before laying the chest on it and looking at me. I thought to myself how unornate the chest truly was to be the final resting place of the Gods. I expected something akin to a Pharaoh’s tomb, laden with objects and reliefs depicting the glory of each individual God. Instead this cheap looking, wooden box seemed to be all it was.

  Sensing my judgement Atlas reached out, laying a palm on the top of the chest. “Pandora’s box.”

  “Pandora like THE Pandora? Like, Hope is in there too?” I shouldn’t have sounded surprised given all the magic changes in my
life as of late but I had always thought since the story ended with Pandora leaving Hope inside the box and it never being released the box was destroyed or something to account for the fact Hope was never given to mankind.

  “Yes, that box.”

  “The first woman’s box.” I smirked to myself, marveling at the same time as I reached out and touched it. It still didn’t seem impressive to me but hell, it was important. “Alright, what do we do now?”

  “I shall reach in and call Cronos to me, I will need you to protect the sides to ensure no other souls escape. They are wily and will try to slip through the cracks. It wouldn’t have taken me as long as it did to find Zeus because I had to track the other souls first.”

  “Ah,” I didn’t sound too impressed but I got his point. Even if it did sound like he was making excuses. “Alright, let’s do this.” I reached out, setting my hands on the sides of the chest as Atlas lifted the lid and slid one hand inside. It was dark from what I could see but every so often a bright light jumped up, shining from the crack.

  “Cronos, come to me,” Atlas spoke, his arm moving as he felt around in the chest. I watched and waited as he worked, but leave it to Cronos to take his sweet ass time coming when he was called. After Atlas summoned him a couple of times, he still didn’t answer. I didn’t have time for his games I drew in a deep breath and with my firmest voice I spoke.

  “Cronos, this is your son, Zeus. Come out and face me like a man.” As I spoke, one soul used my distraction to try to slip through the crack, seeping out like slime from the chest. I caught it, stuffing it back into the chest. “Enough! Come out and face me.”

  Atlas pulled his hand out, holding in it a ball of light, no doubt the soul of my Godly father. He looked at me and nodded before opening his palm and releasing Cronos back into the world.

  He started to close the chest again when I spoke, “Wait, retrieve Hope for me as well.”