by Amy Braun
Meaning, we were posing as a Dangerous Artifact Retrieval Team. I’d worked with DART multiple times in the past, so it was easy for Persephone, Athena, and the computer geniuses they hired to hijack the phone call Selena had Seen Adelae making. I told a few lies over the phone, borrowed and modified some of the armor worn by Persephone’s guards, accepted the enchanted box Athena made to hold the Timeweaver the same way we’d contained the Heart of the Devourer, and now we were here. Part of me felt bad for deceiving Adelae, a genuinely flustered and sweet girl who might know Mason, but if the Timeweaver was here, it was putting innocent lives at risk.
“What’s been happening?” Selena asked as we arrived at the stainless steel elevators.
Adelae swiped an access card along the card reader. It beeped and flashed green. “The contractors were replacing the concrete floors when they found something. They wouldn’t say what it was, but they became hysterical. We sent security down there to see what was happening, but they hardly got within twenty feet before they started seeing things and yelling at the air.” She looked at us, her dark eyes filled with worry. “It’s like they were seeing something that wasn’t there.”
Selena and I looked at each other. It sounded exactly like something the Timewaver could do.
The elevator alarm pinged, signaling its arrival. Selena and I walked in, but Adelea stayed back.
“There are a few construction tools down there and some debris, but no cameras or doors. Please be careful. I would come down with you but…”
“It’s all right,” I smiled at her. “We don’t want you to get hurt. If you don’t hear from or see us in an hour, call the police and ask them to bring the Polemistés.” I didn’t want either of them anywhere near this place, but I also wanted to keep anyone from getting hurt. I would risk enemies to protect innocent people.
Adelae bit her lower lip and nodded. She handed me her keycard for the elevator, stating that she would be in the offices upstairs waiting by a phone in case something happened.
The doors slid closed, and then we were descending.
Selena shifted beside me. “Last time I went in an elevator with you, we were at the Strató̱nes.”
“I remember.” In the basement of that dark, dank place, she’d been taken to the Black Box and mentally tortured for half an hour. Then she was imprisoned, taunted, harassed, and cut by me. “I hate that it happened, Selena. I hate what I put you through.”
“It wasn’t you,” she replied quietly. “We didn’t expect things to go the way they did. But I knew it wasn’t your fault.” She glanced at me, her silver-blue eyes bright. “And I meant to add that this is different. Last time I didn’t feel safe with you. But I do now.” She grinned. “How fucked up is that, since we’re about to come face to face with the brain of a crazy Titan?”
I smirked. “You have an awkward way of flirting.”
The words slipped past me before I could stop them. Gods, she constantly threw me off balance. And threw me further when she smiled.
“Not a lot of practice. Maybe one day I’ll get the hang of it.”
Selena smiled. I was about to add another quip or test her bantering again, when she suddenly went completely rigid. Her eyes fixed on the elevator walls like she was about to smash them.
I lightly touched her wrist. “Hey. You okay?”
“Something’s wrong. Something else is here.”
Before she could go on, the elevator bells chimed, and the steel doors peeled open.
The basement walls were made with pasty gray concrete. Construction lights remained plugged in the wall and blasted light through the rooms. Broken rubble and debris covered the floor. It looked like the contractors had begun hammering the space out, only to abandon their work. Straight ahead was a hallway that diverted to other smaller corridors, which I assumed would be offices, workstations, or electrical rooms. Aside from the construction equipment, this was little more than a bland space.
Which made the energy of the room so jarring.
The power threading the air was immense. It brushed over my body like a cold wind. The hairs on the back of my neck rose in response. My entire being felt uneasy and tense. I didn’t want to be here in this basement.
Selena remained stiff inside the elevator, not eager to move from it, either.
Adapting my skin slightly in case any traps sprang––knowing there had been always been a challenge or two with the other artefacts we found––I stepped out of the elevator.
Nothing happened. No spikes jutted from the floor, no ceilings dropped, no monsters sprang out of the shadowy corners.
And yet something still felt so, so wrong.
You do not belong here. You need to leave.
I shook my head. That thought was similar to what I was feeling… except it wasn’t my thought. It wasn’t even my voice.
More whispers slid past my ears. Words I couldn’t understand in voices I didn’t recognize. With every step, the whispers became more intense, more aggressive. I didn’t know how to Adapt to this. I stopped walking and glanced over my shoulder. Selena grimaced uncomfortably and followed me out of the elevator.
“Do you know what this is?”
She shook her head. Her fingers were threaded through her hair, pulling at the roots. She would rather focus on pain than whatever she was hearing.
I moved back toward her. “Hey.” I put my hand on her shoulder. She blinked, her eyes bright and full of worry.
I offered my hand. Selena took it and squeezed tight. I gave her a gentle squeeze back. It was as much for her as it was for me.
Selena, regaining her focus, took a step forward into the hallway ahead. The whispers got louder, and while I still couldn’t catch any words, I heard familiar voices.
Corey. Thea. Mason. Liam. Ares. My father. My mother.
I wanted to ignore them because I knew they weren’t here. But the thoughts lingered––
Selena jerked to a stop at the first open door on her left. I bumped into her back and felt her shaking. I turned my head to see her expression. One of raw fear.
I looked into the door and saw an empty room.
I turned to her. “Selena? What do you see?”
“They’re all dead,” she rasped. “Every single one of them. I couldn’t do anything. Now they’re gone, and you…” she turned to me, her eyes widening. Suddenly she lunged, swiping at my chest and pushing her hands against my head.
“Bleeding,” she whimpered. “You’re bleeding.”
The mutterings grew louder. I glanced at the rooms, seeing nothing in their open spaces. Yet each one had a voice in it, some phantom playing havoc with my hearing. What the hell was going on?
Heat filled the space between my chest and Selena. I looked down and saw a fireball clenched in her fist. She was going to cauterize me.
Reflex kicking in, I lightly clasped her forearm and pushed her hand back. She blinked rapidly as I ducked my head so she would look in my eyes.
“Selena. I am not bleeding. I swear. I’m okay.” I pressed her bare palm to my chest. “Feel that? Still whole. Still beating.”
Selena’s tremors continued, but the fire doused from her hand. I curled my free hand around the back of her head and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Come on,” I murmured.
I walked past the next office, ignoring the rising voices and wincing when a piercing scream rattled in my skull. I pressed the heel of my palm to my forehead, telling myself that it wasn’t real and that it would never be real, even though I didn’t know what I was lying to myself about.
I passed one more room, and then another scream crashed into my mind.
This one I remembered clearly. It was Liam’s the night my father stabbed him.
My eyes, once closed as if that would help the chaos in my head, snapped open. I whirled around, looking for my brother––
My eyes locked on an open door on my right. Through the door was a picture of my past. The moment that broke me.
A torrent of rain po
ured down from the night sky, blurring the distant trees and the muddy ground. Liam lay in that mud, thirteen years old and bleeding from his middle. My father stood over him, the knife in his hand dripping red. He knelt down next to my brother, whispered in his ear before raising the knife again.
I didn’t think about the other voices. I didn’t care about anything else. I raised my hand to loose a ball of flame––
A pinprick of fire spiked into the back of my skull. I winced at whirled around––
And suddenly I was back in the basement, Selena standing behind me with a flame flickering on her fingertip.
An illusion. That was all it was.
I relaxed, my magic stirring beneath my skin. Selena crushed my hand in hers. I focused on that strong grip, let it anchor me to reality. It was the first time in over five years that I’d endured that memory while waking.
“This must be what the Timeweaver does,” answered Selena. “It creates powerful illusions. The user can even harness its power to control minds or create new realities. It might even show us the past or the future.”
“Gods, if Ares gets––”
My hand broke. I choked on my words and cursed as the hex splintered my bones. Unleashing every swear I knew, I curled my damaged hand in my unbroken one and healed the bones. My hand was whole again, abut it was another dose of magic that I wouldn’t have against the Timeweaver.
“We should keep going,” Selena said quietly. “If we stay here too long…”
But I knew from her eyes that we were thinking the same thing. Staying here would be bad but going forward would be worse.
LIAM
BEING ALONE IN the Clouds was a serious problem for me.
Not only was it a pain in the ass to navigate (walking anywhere took ages, every corridor looked identical, and there wasn’t exactly a directory), but I was constantly watched.
When the Olympians wished it, there were hundreds of subordinates living in the Clouds with the gods. They dressed in gold silks, knotted in various styles to make them togas, chitons, or skirts. Simple gold bands wrapped around the heads of each subordinate to make a simple crown. Every man and woman chosen to be a subordinate was unfairly stunning. Men looked like chiseled statues come to life, and the women were typically so curvy I had to look away so they wouldn’t see me blush.
Subordinates waited hand and foot for the gods. They often worked as liaisons when the Olympians couldn’t be bothered to do a task, but they also cleaned, fed, and serviced the gods however they asked.
Subordinates would call themselves the ultimate loyalists to the Olympians, but I worried they confused the word loyalty with slavery.
I kept my eyes away from the subordinates, even more out of place in my gray T-shirt and black jeans (Demeter and Hestia insisted their subordinates clean our clothes even though we said we could do it ourselves). After three months, I had a better handle over where my friends typically stayed.
I just didn’t know who to talk to first. Mason and Corey would ease my stresses and worries, but Thea needed a friend.
Gods, why am I even thinking about easing my stress, she needs someone––
“You seem lost, son of Ares.”
The voice was so close and unexpected, that I whirled around and threw a punch.
The speaker stepped back casually, as if he had punches thrown at him all the time.
Waiting for my heart to calm, I took the man in and felt my insides twist.
His slim frame towered over mine, the black suit stretching like a shadow from his body. His hair and skin were alarmingly white against his sharp bones. Dead, pale gray eyes stared at me, assessing and finding me wanting.
Holy shit. I nearly punched the King of the Underworld.
“My… My lord, I apologize, I didn’t…”
“Tell me what you seek, and I shall guide you.”
Unease filled me. I would offend him if I said no, and I seriously wanted to say no.
“I… would like to see my friend Thea. After what happened, I’m worried about her.”
“Ah,” rasped the Underworld King. “You wish to see how to become a god.”
“No, no, I––”
“Come. I shall show you. If you truly are her friend, you ought to understand what she is to become.”
I didn’t trust Hades’ kindness any more than I trusted Ares’, but he was already turning away, expecting me to follow.
Hades was the God of Death, and I genuinely tried not to fuck with people who could instant-kill me.
Just remember you’re bait. They won’t kill you because they might need to use you against Derek.
If there were ever a truth to make me feel worse about something, that was it.
Hades wove through the pillars, his black shoes making no sound as they pressed against the marble floor. I sounded heavy by comparison.
Though that could have been some of my anxiety peeking through as I followed a death god through the Olympian’s household maze.
Suddenly, he stopped. I dug my heels into the floor, not wanting to touch the god. Hades turned, and the once bright corridor seemed dimmed in shadow.
“Do you know how we gain our power, Liam Areios?”
Mortal belief was the answer I’d always been taught. Looking at Hades now, I didn’t think it was the right answer.
“I… don’t know more than the basics.”
“Of course not. We would not want the truth to be unveiled. It might alarm those who devote themselves so wholly to us.” He breathed deep. “In the past, the process was simpler. A deity stepped onto the world and felt it shake. Armies slaughtered in our name. We enjoyed daily offerings and sacrifices. Watched festivals and debauchery just so we could be amused.” His pale eyes darkened. “Now it is not so simple. Much of what we stood for is seen as primitive. As if fairy tales are all we are good for. So, we must adapt.”
He turned again, and I saw the door. A door I was confident hadn’t been there when we walked into this hallway.
I saw two towering bars of gold, imprinted with a visage of a man and a woman pouring a jar of shimmering ruby liquid onto the head of a lounging god.
I was getting some serious Elizabeth Báthory vibes here, and I was not okay with it.
“You seem ill at ease with what you are about to see, Liam Areios.” He sounded amused.
“To be honest, I’m not a fan of surprises. And I’ve nearly walked into Dionysus’ orgies more times than I can count.”
Hades didn’t even blink. He studied me, a cold assessment.
“I see why my wife loves you.”
The only way he could have shocked me more was if he had actually electrocuted me.
“Your brother is the Bringer of Shadow and Fire. Did you think I would not piece together his origin, as well as yours?” He reached for the curved door handles. “Rest assured, you are safe here.”
Because Demeter was here, his mother-in-law. A woman who hated him and stood close to Zeus.
His tone implied such safety remained finite.
Satisfied that he’d freaked me out, Hades pushed open the door handle. The door sighed open, spilling a shadow over Hades and me. He opened his arm, inviting me inside.
I was the fly in a gilded parlor.
With no choice, I walked in and brushed past his frosty aura.
I stepped into a room filled with gold and fire. Walls tinted in warm colors, circled with gold pillars and silver filigree. A circular chandelier hung from the ceiling, burning red and yellow like a small sun. Beneath the chandelier were two stout bronze pedestals with ornate glass goblets on top: one empty and one filled with thick crimson liquid.
Bile rose in my throat.
Three figures stepped out from the shadows. Zeus and Hera, dressed in their same expensive clothing, followed by a girl with thick black hair and dressed in a simple white shift.
My stomach knotted again.
“Thea?”
She didn’t react. Nor did the Olympian king and q
ueen.
“She cannot hear you,” Hades grated in my ear. “I have merely brought you to witness.”
In other words, he wanted me to see something terrible and do nothing to stop it.
“What is this?” Thea asked, her voice low, as if it could hide her anxiety.
Zeus pushed up the sleeves of his suit jacket and unbuttoned the cuffs of his dress shirt. “Today you proved that you are not strong enough to wield the powers of Poseidon. You cast great shame on our kin. Yet as you have no brothers or sisters, transition of power demands that you take his place. You have avoided the Shift for too long, Thea Eldoris.” He rolled up a sleeve, revealing a muscular forearm. “It is time for that to change.”
Hera stepped forward and removed a dagger from her robes. I tensed and took a step forward. A cold, bony hand clasped my shoulder and yanked me back. For all his apparent skinniness, Hades proved strong.
Thea watched the goddess, hands curled into fists and feet braced, ready to fight. She watched Hera like a hawk.
Unperturbed, the goddess stepped toward her husband and sliced his wrist.
Zeus didn’t flinch as gold blood welled on his skin. He even held open the wound without a sound and poured the gleaming blood into the empty goblet.
Thea’s eyes widened with horror and disgust.
Finished his bloodletting, Zeus smeared the golden gore from his wound. Not even a scratch remained.
“I have offered you a great treasure,” Zeus declared. “Your path is now simple. Drink the red and gold goblets. Then you shall ascend.”
“Just like that?”
The Olympian stared at her. “It may take a few days. You are the first heir to rise to godhood. There is a chance you may not survive the transition at all.” An empty smile rose on his face. “Yet you have proven to be strong of will and constitution. Traits that have persisted through your bloodline when Poseidon marked it for heirdom.”
My heart lurched to my throat. The gravity of this fell heavy on me. Thea, a boat shop owner, would be the first person to transition from a human to a goddess—to leave the mortal realm behind and become immortal. She would literally command the seas and every creature in them. Festivals would be dedicated to her. Blessings and prayers and sacrifices. It would be her name in history and mythology. She would become a legend.
