“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It means nothing.” She turned to leave but I stopped her with a hand.
“Wait,” I said quietly, finally letting the last of my stubbornness fall. “Forgive me. What does he say? Do you already care so greatly for his words? Then tell me sister, what they are. What is the great Apollo like?”
“Do you want to know? Truly?”
“Yes.”
But she was angry with me still. Her temper would not cool so quickly. “He says that if I were to separate myself from you. And soon. There is no limit to what I could have. A kingdom twice as large as ours with father. Three times, even.”
I felt old looking at my sister then. I felt as if I’d birthed her out from between my legs and there she was, seeing me aged, and weak, and nothing but a burden. “Does Apollo promise you this kingdom, sister?”
“Does it matter?” she scoffed. “You would never let me have it. You and your king will not let me be free.”
I guffawed. “My king!” My island. My rooms. Perhaps I had started to think of Alec as my king, but I would never admit it.
“If you will not go and beg Hades, then I will have no choice, Freya. I will disown you just like father.”
My misstep…it had spread like fire. And already Apollo was in her ear promising her that her life would be so much better if we did not remain as we were. Sisters.
“And what would we be then, Cenia? Enemies…?”
She shrugged and a fresh horror dawned. She meant to go and announce this separation immediately.
I turned, embarrassed by how desperate my voice sounded when I said, "Don't do this, Cenia. Not here and now. Our father has abandoned me, given his first born to his enemy with hope that the king will ruin me or kill me. Of which he wishes more, I am unsure. Our mother has been absent since the first, a frail creature, fleeing the nest in the face of predators. Everyone at this gathering has taken me apart piece by piece, and now, my own blood—my sister, rises to take the last bite...?"
"And you call me dramatic."
"I call you my only friend."
"And perhaps it's time that changed."
She pulled away from me, going back to her new place beside the Olympians, and I shuddered from the cold feeling of loss.
I hid in the shadows of the gardens. I knew she might not truly announce it, but I wondered if I would feel her say it the first time to Apollo himself. “Who is Freya?” she would ask, and he would laugh and answer, “Indeed,” swept away by her beauty now unmarred by my blight.
Tears chased each other down my face and onto my neck. They made their way onto my bosom, a place where I’d held Cenia as a babe, mimicking my mother’s way of cradling her to her breast.
A part of me was gone forever in that moment, burned away.
“I know you’re there,” I said, and a dark presence shifted in the shadows just beyond the alcove. “Why have you tarried? Do you enjoy my pain?”
A soft and lilting male voice replied, “On the contrary. I only wished to bring you something for your tears.”
His bone-white hand reached into the light, handing me the fabric before he immediately withdrew.
“Thank you,” I said, sniffing and wiping my face. “Who might I be thanking?”
He strode into the light, his black robes dragging behind him, filling the small space.
He was familiar but not.
“Charon,” he said, bowing slightly at the waist, “at your service.”
His hood was back where it had cloaked him before. “The ferryman,” I said, curious.
“It is I.”
He had long silver hair and eyes to match. One half of his face was unblemished while the other held a scar from hairline to neck. It bisected his eye and part of his lips.
This was the one who carried the souls across the rivers of the underworld. He brought them for Hades’ judgment.
“And why are you alone in the gardens and not with your court?” I asked.
“Some would say…that I have no court.”
“Then some would call you blessed.”
He made to leave but I touched his sleeve. “Please stay.”
He laughed softly. “Some would call you ignorant of the court’s politics.” He sat on the bench, his hair pooling around him. “I mean no offense, Freya. It is only that…” Traces of color appeared in his pale cheeks. “I’m considered a bad omen by all. To be seen with me is to predict your own death, as it were.”
I frowned.
“I know that sounds strange, but they have their reasons.”
“It sounds ridiculous.”
“Perhaps.”
I passed the cloth into his hands. “Here is your napkin back. I’m sorry that you had to see me blubbering like a child.”
“Nonsense. I’m rather used to young women crying in my boat. And men. Well, humans and immortals of every age and gender, I suppose.”
“I suppose that you would. How much did you hear?”
He didn’t play coy with me. “Enough.”
“Any thoughts?”
“About what? Your sister betraying you or your attempt to beg yourself back into Hades’ good graces again?” His voice was level while speaking of things so monumental in my life.
“Would it even work?”
His elegant features pinched making the scar glow. “I should think not. They respect strength most.”
I rose and straightened my dress and cloak. I made to leave but turned. “Do you happen to know anything about these gardens?”
“I do.”
“Could you perhaps tell me about the plants?”
“Are you sure?” He stood but was hesitant. “Should anyone see us…”
I waved a hand laughing a dry and sad sound. “Don’t you know, Charon? I am Freya the Fallen. Predicting my own death would only solidify it, don’t you think?”
Charon was quite knowledgeable. He could name every continent and place where each plant hailed from. He explained the medicinal uses for many. He also told me the plants that could even affect an immortal. “This will place one of us under a deep sleep.” He smashed the petals into his palm, and they smeared into a glowing, blue powder.
We stopped before what I called the “face tree” and I asked about its origins.
Charon spoke clearly but with a touch of someone lost in memories. “When Alec conquered the seven islands, he found that the kings of the islands had taken the islander natives as slaves. He also found those native to the islands had worshiped a foreign goddess and the conquerors had found her in their rule. They also figured a way to chain her and abuse her powers. The islands flourished and they made strong weapons with her help. Strong enough to attack the immortals who they turned their backs on. When Alec finally put an end to their darkness, he learned the atrocities committed against the original islanders and the goddess. His wrath was tremendous.”
“Is this one of the kings?”
Charon lifted an elegant hand and traced the face in the wood gently. “If you look closely, you can see the imprint of a crown.”
I had entered the gathering before on the arm of the king, and now, I entered on the arm of the one who would ferry my soul to my eternity.
It did not go unnoticed.
Those who valued their lives cut a path away from us, and Cenia’s gaze was fit to burn me alive.
“Chin up, little one,” Charon said for my ears alone. “They may hate you, but they’ve hated themselves for far longer.”
“Except for that one,” I murmured, and my anger burned hot and bright for Apollo.
Alec strode over, his expression thunderous. He came to my side and nodded at Charon who turned and lifted my hand for a kiss. “It has been a pleasure, Freya the Fallen.”
When he said it, it felt like a compliment.
Charon passed me to the king before moving back to his place alone in the shadows. He had seemed lonely. I made it my mission to be seen with Charon as ofte
n as possible.
Alec brought me the rest of the way across the room. He took me into the halls we’d waited in before, watching, where he rounded on me in anger. “I sent Charon to watch over you…at a distance. Not to further create a barrier between you and…”
“And what? Oh, yes, they were just loving me up until that point, right?”
He wiped a hand across his face in frustration. “I’ve been trying to figure a way to remedy whatever…that was.” He motioned at where Hades stood. “He was only supposed to be here for the night, now, it’s been said he will be here tomorrow night, perhaps all of them.” His eyes flashed at me. “Because of you.”
“I…”
“No. Don’t tell me. I’m not sure I want to know.”
“So now what?”
He laughed but it was a dark sound. “Now every immortal from here to Tartarus will be plotting. You are in his bad graces; you have none to support your place here. Freya, if you are nothing but an enemy prisoner, you’re a prize to be won in the worst way. Nothing makes the gods happier than conquest. I wanted you to stay away. Why couldn’t you have stayed away?”
I frowned. Why did he care? Didn’t he want to see me punished? I bit my lip instead of asking questions I might not want the answer to.
“I have ideas about protection, but you won’t like it.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.” His gaze was sad. “Give me the cloak.”
“What!”
He sighed. “The only option is for them to see that perhaps I am so enamored with my young prisoner that they’d be crossing me to approach you.”
“So, you want to…” I held the cloak more tightly to myself, my face heating.
His eyes flicked up in exasperation. “I am asking you to dance with me, Freya. We can start there.”
He pulled the tie before I could argue and the cloak fell to the ground, revealing the very thin fabric of my dress. Alec’s eyes flicked up and down before away.
He gave me his arm and asked, “Are you ready?”
“No.”
But he pulled me through the door anyway.
Chapter 8
I woke in Alec’s bed and sat up. The room was foggy and blue tinted, murky with smoke. Bright green vines climbed the walls, their tendrils inching their way upwards to the ceiling. They were blocking the balcony light so that I could rest.
How long had I slept? And I had slept. Deeply.
The night before and how I’d ended up in his bed came rushing back to me with the clarity that only something so traumatic could bring.
First, we had danced. Oh, how we had danced.
Alec was a swordsman; I knew from before during the battle. I had not really seen him fight, but he stood often in the position of someone who’d held a sword for most of his life, one foot being predominately in front of the other, his heart away from those who stood opposite.
I knew it because he’d allowed me to stab that heart, opening the side that he usually held away from everyone else. He’d needed the proof that I was treacherous, and what a way to prove it? Vulnerability. But still, his punishment for my choice to appease my family with his murder was not as severe as I’d feared.
His mistress. That was the first payment it would seem. He had not needed to say it. Alec unveiled me to the crowd by removal of his cloak, and he had paraded me around those who’d sneered at me moments before. The king had been so convincing in his attempt at newfound desire, played his role with such intensity for me, that I forgot my place. I forgot all but the touch of his hand at my hip, our fingers entwined palm to palm, and when his lips lingered at my bare neck. I had let him prey upon me in front of the others because he’d made it seem that in a way he was protecting me from the likes of Hermes. Was he?
Even now I could not decipher the thoughts behind his beguiling feline grace.
Hermes…who did indeed watch with raptor eyes that glistened with greed, only resulted in pressing me closer to Alec’s game. Though he looked his fill at what my gown revealed.
The fabric weaved magic, making it seem as though one could catch a glimpse of my form, but only a glimpse, before it was whisked away—and oh, how I was whisked away.
Alec being a swordsman meant he’d danced his entire existence, which I had realized only then, how long that must have been. Effortlessly, he drew me into him, bending me to his will, arching my back over steel arms or pressing me close. We played a role and it was convincing.
Should I have been wary of appearing as though I was at his leisure? It bothered me little, because the more we danced, the less I cared. No one had ever dared to lay a hand on me until I’d come to this place, and Alec’s touch had awoken in me a new thing of desire. I was not an idiot. I knew it was naïve to think that he meant any of the caresses and gazes that lingered.
He used me to crush any disputes. He wanted to keep me all to himself because to lose me was to lose whatever he gained by holding Cenia and I over my father’s head. I just hadn’t realized how important that was until he’d pretended this infatuation.
Again…I cared very little for the politics in that moment. More. I wanted more of his hands and more of his green cat eyes that slid over me like velvet. I wanted more of his smirking, sarcastic mouth lifting in a small smile.
We had a secret together, he and I, and I wouldn’t have ruined it for anything under the sun or above it. I was like Alec’s sword that he wielded with precision against his foe. The largest being my father who would learn how my name was sullied, though I knew my life giver cared little. So, it felt rebellious. It felt like my choice.
And most definitely it was a weapon against those like Hermes, which made us allies.
Nothing happens in this kingdom that the king does not see a hundred different ways. Arman had said. So, when Alec’s expression tightened when noticing Hermes’ gaze roving over me again and again, I saw the challenge in his eyes. Somehow, he knew. He already was aware of what Hermes had offered in his vulgar way.
Mine, Alec’s clutching arms said to the sultry messenger.
For now, I chided myself to assure that I didn’t fall too deeply into our own trap.
It made me so very low to be his mistress, so why did I feel the power of it in my veins?
When the music ended, Alec was not finished.
“A better song,” he said, clearly displeased with the choices. “This new music is lively and unfitting for a funeral.” His voice boomed with authority and dancers moved off the floor when Alec signaled for something else to be played.
My eyes searched him. “What….”
Oh! I knew this song.
I moved out of his embrace to my position and his eyes shined. How could I know it? I bet he wondered. Because to be a titan alone for all of your life, is to read and learn through travelers who visit. I had an enchanted book from the age of three that would show me the ancient dances in motion. And this was one of them.
It was my favorite and told a story of a young human girl ensnared by Zeus. She was tricked and trapped into being his mistress and then died a tragic death far too young. I should’ve been horrified by the implication, but my heart beat fast when I curved my body gently into what I’d practiced so many times in secret as a girl in my room.
The music, haunting and darkly mysterious built—I knew it well.
I took my place across from Alec, bending my knees to bow low and cover my face.
I had not missed the shocked Olympians around me. Perhaps the song was disrespectful to Zeus. Forbidden. A thrill shot through me at the thought.
Alec strode around me, his hands behind his back. Deciding something, he reached for me and I took his hand.
Alec surprised me with his roughness, tugging me against him full length. My legs were tight against the iron of his own, my hips flush to his, and my breast crushed to his chest. The heat that moved through me was dizzying.
But I did my duty and quickly pressed free. This was not a dance but more
a battle. Her for her innocence, him for his conquest.
Alec would bring me into his arms again, this time he was behind me and I bit back a sigh as his hands gently traced my body. My heart squeezed tight to notice the care with which he kept from actually accosting me before a crowd. I was of two minds. One wanted him to take the liberty, to whip my feelings into a frenzy. The other told me to remember the game we played.
Then the crescendo. We spun faster and faster together in a display of affection turned mad with lust.
Alec stopped, and I was happy to see him breathing as hard as I was. Arching me back, he gently brought his mouth to my collar bone. With my head upside down, I dared to open my eyes. And the black gaze of Hades was upon me. Disapprovingly so.
Alec distracted me with his hand gently grasping my throat before cupping my head.
It’s just a dance. I told myself over and over as I became overwhelmed.
The touch of his hand on my hair brought a ripple through my skin, and he was not unaffected. He pulled me up and into his arms, my nose touching his, our eyes locked. His held a question that I was not ready to answer.
That confused me. I shook my head slightly. At what? I knew not.
Alec’s mouth held a smirk as thoroughly as he did everything else. “Try to relax. They can smell your fear.”
“What! Can you?” I whispered, leaning in.
“No,” he whispered back, pressing even closer. “I can taste it.”
The green eyes swirled with power, a power that pressed against mine and I pressed back instinctively. His eyes flared and I remembered that perhaps when we’d struck out at one another before in the woods, he’d not realized how low my power had been. He was powerful, but so was I. I pressed even harder, flexing it freely, and was happy to see surprise fill his countenance.
The song ended and many clapped, some laughing in surprised excitement.
We bowed. Nymphs flocked around me, touching my dress, my hair, and asking me how I knew the dance. They wondered how I had learned to move so well if I’d been hidden away from their courts.
Beware the Fallen: Young Adult Mythology (Banished Divinity Book 1) Page 8
