I flew around Olympus, and as I circled, my head was filled with a vision. The mountain burning, the gods all screaming, their forms turning to ash and they were left voiceless, alone, forgotten. I wasn’t sure what it meant, and it didn’t happen to me often, so I decided to stay away from that place. It brought me no comfort, and little good. I didn’t want to listen to their questions, and if Athena had gone home, they had surely heard of what I could do by then.
I found myself far from there, far from the land the humans called Greece, far from the cool waters, and the soft winds. I landed in the desert, the coarse sand beneath my feet as I regained form and hid my wings from view. I let myself walk, loving the feeling of the earth beneath me, and I closed my eyes, feeling the gentle hum of the humans and how they were all connected.
I wasn’t sure how long I wandered, but when I finally stopped, I was at a village. The people there had skin far darker than the Greeks, and they wore strips of cloth to protect against the sun. They lived in homes built into caves, and little huts near the immense, roaring river that rushed through the lush plains.
No longer did my feet touch sand as I walked through the villages, and they all greeted me with a smile. I could tell instantly that they did not like the sight of a traveler, but they could feel I was different. I wasn’t like them, not one of them, but several took me in and fed me breads laden with heavy spices, and beer.
“There is another like you,” one of the women told me after I filled myself. Like the other gods, I never needed to eat, but it was a pleasing sensation and it gave me the feeling of strength. I was surprised, though, and slightly dim in the head from the beer, so it took a moment to register what she’d said.
“What do you mean like me?” I asked her, feeling alarmed. Had the others followed me? It was possible they were angry at my sudden revelation that I could see the dead, and that I found them much like the gods.
“Winged,” said the woman, her toothless grin spread across her face. “We feel them, even though we can’t see them. She’s there, in the temple.” Her gnarled hand pointed up at the top of a small hill where a brilliantly white limestone temple sat.
I could feel her now, now that the old woman had pointed her out. She was like me, yet not, and she was most definitely female. I rose from the floor of the hut, thanked them profusely as they laid offerings at my feet, and I left.
Letting my feet carry me across the short distance, I gathered my thoughts as I made my way up the small mount. I knew there had been others born with me, and they had been spirited away. I had believed I was the only one left, the only one who survived. Otherwise they would have come looking for me. They would not have just left me to the wolfish Greeks.
The temple was dark, humid despite the dry, desert heat. There were torches burning, and I could hear falling water somewhere far in the back. Carvings marred nearly every space inside of the temple, a writing which I had never seen before, but could instantly read. This was a temple to a goddess of the earth. Winged, and fierce, she controlled the floods and crops. The people loved her, revered her, and she was lavished upon.
I found her lying on the stone, her eyes closed, and she was beautiful. She was tall, fierce black hair, robed in the finest silk. Her face was painted with human kohl, and she had gold adorned wrists and fingers. She had wings, spread out beneath her, and I knew that only I could see them.
But they were wrong, I discovered, as I grew closer to her. She was not like me. She was not of my kind, but perhaps descended from one of them. In fact, I could sense the gods as part of her being. She was a half-breed, though it was only the half belonging to my kind that interested me.
She had her eyes closed, but a small smile on her lips as I approached, and she stretched languidly, cat like, before looking in my direction. “A new face,” she said and rose. She was barely clothed, thin strips of cloth covering her very pale skin, and I found it no surprise that she was immediately worshiped as a goddess.
“Who are you?” was my only question for her, and one that made her grin even wider. She approached me slowly, cautiously, and I studied her. She was young, likely a newborn, her Greek side making her age to physical maturity faster than my kind did. Her hair was baby-fine, a rich black, shocking against the white of her skin, and her dark eyes were wide and piercing.
“The humans call me many names,” she said. “My mother called me Persephone.” She circled me now, taking in every inch as her eyes trailed up and down my body. How different I must look to her, covered in sand from head to toe, my appearance unkempt and careless. But she smiled all the same, and reached out gently to run her hand up and down my left wing. “Do you know my father?”
I had to assume her father was one of my kin, so I shook my head slowly as she moved over to the right wing. They were larger than hers, stronger, as even now I could see them slipping in and out of existence. She wasn’t strong, and I wondered if she had any power at all.
“Who is he?”
“My mother calls him Apollo. I’ve seen him once, but he doesn’t care for the humans, so he stays away,” she said, her voice drawling through the echo of the temple almost lazily. “What’s your name?”
“Hades,” I said, and she laughed.
“What kind of name is Hades?”
“One that was given to me, just like yours was given to you,” I said. I stepped away from her and ruffled my wings gently. Her touch was odd, different, and I wasn’t sure I enjoyed it. Something in me was stirring, and not just an excitement to meet others like myself. I was nervous and scared, I realized, such human emotions, but I cowered away from her inwardly.
“Hmm,” she hummed. She tugged on a long strand of hair and sat down on the cold, stone floor. “Have you come to take me away?”
I frowned, giving my head a slight shake. “No.”
She gave a sigh and crossed her arms. “Shame. What I’d give to be removed from this prison.”
The word prison froze me, and I stared at her for a long moment. “Prison? You’re trapped here?”
Before I could blink, Persephone was on her feet. She crossed the room and took my wrist in her impossibly hot hand, pulling me near the doorway to the temple. We stopped a few feet short, and slowly, she raised my hand.
“Do you feel that?” she asked in a quiet whisper. “Close your eyes.”
I obeyed her, and after a moment, I did feel it. Like passing my hand through something thicker than air, a tingling sensation shot up my arm, and I moved my fingers around, feeling the power of it flow between the digits. “What is that?”
“My prison. My father felt I’d be safe here.” She shrugged and dropped my arm.
I could feel the absence of her touch instantly, and I found I wanted it back. The very desire frightened me; her powers may have been weak enough to keep her in this place, but she had a pull on me that no one ever had. I backed away from her, but the desire to free her was building.
“Safe from what?” I finally asked. In order to distract myself, I began to wander around the temple, studying the pictorial writing adorning the walls. It was primitive, strange, but I liked it. It was different from my humans, yet I could see the thought patterns behind them and they were very similar.
A creation story rested behind the altar, a sun god, an all-seeing eye. There were stories of other gods, gods of the dead, gods of the sky, gods of the earth. I wondered where they were, who they were, and if I would be able to know them.
“They’re not around here anymore,” Persephone said, coming up behind me. She put her hand on my shoulder gently as she spoke, her voice flowing into my ear like silk. “Except that one, Amun-Ra,” she said, pointing to the sun god. “And except for her,” and she pointed to a winged goddess kneeling beside an altar.
“Is that your mother?” I asked with a frown.
“Ma’at, the humans call her. My father has no name for her, he’s terrified of this land, of these people. He’s more afraid of the others, the ones like my mo
ther. He says they exist in different lands far off, and would take my form from me if they could. He said they’re slowly losing their bodies, becoming spirits of the wind and sky, and they’re disappearing. He’s afraid if I leave this place, it will happen to me, too.”
“Your father, the one like me?” I asked.
She nodded slowly. “Though my mother is shown with wings, she is like them, the others. Slowly losing her form as the humans no longer care for her or worship her. They come here still, with offerings and sacrifices. I bring them knowledge, but even in here, as you can see,” she looked back at her wings which were fading in and out, “I don’t believe I am safe here.”
I gave a nod and moved away from her grasp. Her touch, her voice, it was addicting. I wanted to take her in my arms, but I didn’t let myself. I walked to the other side of the altar and sat, and for the moment, she respected the distance.
“If I am going to fade out, I don’t want to do it here,” she said, now begging. “Can you remove the barrier?”
“I don’t even know what it is,” I confessed.
“But you’re like him!” she cried out suddenly, the strength in her voice startling me.
“I’m not,” I said. “I’m not sure what I am. I see the dead, Persephone, and that’s all I have. I walk amongst the dead humans, and the others, the other gods like your mother, they are more powerful than I am. I have nothing.”
She shook her head so hard her hair broke free of its gold binding. It clattered to the ground with a loud crash and she brushed the locks out of her face with an impatient hand. “Please. Can you try?”
The desire to help her began to overwhelm me as she stared at me. In the back of my mind I knew it had to be her power, her ability to manipulate me, to make me do her will. Perhaps it was why she was trapped here, not to save her, but to save the others. But I couldn’t resist her. The desire began to overwhelm all reason and without even realizing I was doing so, I rose and walked to the edge of the temple.
I closed my eyes and reached out, and began to find the barrier. It was stronger near the door in the west corner, and I knew, without even really knowing, that was the source. The power behind the barrier felt at home to me, familiar, like kin, and I knew that I could control it if only I tried. Reaching out, I touched it. I could see the faint glow in my mind, the power and its source. Closing my fist, with a loud snap, it broke.
There was a shift through the entire building, knocking me back and throwing Persephone to the ground. A rumble sounded and then everything went still. I looked over at her as she peered at me under her curtain of dark hair, and before I could react, she stood with a cry of delight.
I thought she would be gone, being free of the binding, but instead she threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my middle, and all I could hear was her laughter and the fierce beating of my heart.
“Take me away, please,” she begged.
I looked down at her and at her fading wings. “Can you fly?”
“No,” she said, her expression falling.
It didn’t seem logical, yet it was the only thing I could do. I wrapped my arms around her, spread my wings, and then we were off.
I didn’t know where to go, so I went home. I moved faster than I ever had, holding her close to my body, and the world became a blur of colors as I crossed the distance from the desert to the sea. She clung to me tightly, her face in my neck as we made the journey, and what seemed like the blink of an eye, we were standing on solid ground.
At the base of the mountain where the gods had made their home, Athena was sitting, polishing a human blade, something I had never seen her do. She looked surprised as I landed, and her eyes immediately fixed on Persephone, who cowered behind me.
“Who is that?”
At the sound of Athena’s suspicion and anger, I grew immediately defensive. “I was traveling and met her.”
“And you just brought her here?”
“What harm could she pose?” I asked, confused as to why it was a problem.
“What harm? Do you know of her powers? What they are?”
“You’re gods, why worry?” I demanded.
But my defensive cries went unheard, and before long, they had all come down from the mountain, scared and angry. The earth shook and sky roared, and knowing that I couldn’t fight them, I took Persephone and I fled. I knew they would look for us, but they didn’t like to travel out of their lands, so we went to the north, where it was white and frozen.
There were whispers of old gods there, the ones who predated us and no longer existed in our corporeal form. They became the elements, the winds, storms and snow. I felt safe there with Persephone, but I was afraid, and eventually they would seek to capture us both.
Centuries we lived there, alone, just the two of us. We rarely spoke, and often I found myself among the dead humans in the village while Persephone simply lay in the snow, watching it fall from the sky, covering her completely. I didn’t know what to make of her, even after all of that time. I knew I should leave her, but I could not. I was drawn to her, bound to her, and I didn’t understand it.
It was strange, however, as the years passed, and I seemed to grow stronger while her form weakened. Her wings had gone completely, and as they had once flickered in and out of existence, her body did as well. It wasn’t all the time, but it was often enough that I was growing concerned.
Still, I didn’t dare leave, and it was spring the first time I was visited by one of the old gods. Athena, though she was weak, and had come on foot. She looked tired, and the moment she set foot in my realm, I was overwhelmed with the feeling of loneliness and grief.
“They’re all…dying,” she said by way of greeting. I was sitting in the forest, surrounded by the glowing light of the dead, and I felt at peace. I could talk to them, but they often had very little to say. They understood things no other being on the planet could, and though they were evolving, taking shape into something I barely recognized, I loved them.
“How many are left?” I asked, thinking of Persephone, who was likely not long for this world.
“Four.” Her voice shook as she sat beside me on the ground. The leaves barely gave way against her weight, and I realized she was barely hanging on to her own form. “Zeus is long gone. Nike lingers, though she’s mad. She’s been with one like you, who came searching for that girl. He’s called Apollo. He’s mated with some of us, but even his children have faded.”
“They’re still around,” I said softly. Although I couldn’t see them, I could feel them still around, much like the cold gods of the north, still here, still present, just no longer part of this realm.
“The portals here have begun to close,” she said, not responding to my statement. It was obvious she didn’t care that their spirit was around. What was the use if they could no longer be seen? They had no purpose, they would be forgotten. She reached out and touched me, gripping hard to my arm until her hand lost form. “You’re still here. You and Apollo. How?”
“I don’t know,” I confessed. “Persephone is fading just like you. I wanted to leave her but there’s something. I just…I can’t seem to go,” I confessed to my one-time confidant.
She smiled a little. “Apollo has a gift like that. He can put it into humans and gods alike. They worship him, and the humans go into such a frenzy that they eventually die. He doesn’t understand it, but he likes it. It’s cruel.”
“We’re all quite cruel at times, don’t you think?”
She let out a sigh. “Perhaps we were all wrong.”
“Or perhaps you’ve all served your purpose,” I replied.
She stood then, wiping the few leaves that clung to her white garment and she pushed her now-ragged brown hair back from her face. “I’m going through the portal. I don’t want to fade and be left here. The others, they learned that they can inhabit the bodies of the humans, and have been doing so. They’re afraid to go. The humans die after a time, but they just move on to another. I don’t wa
nt any part of that. I’m not afraid of what’s waiting for me on the other side.”
I leaned forward to kiss her cheek, but before I could make contact, I felt a warm hand on my arm. Athena and I both looked and saw Persephone staring at us with her wide, dark eyes. “They’ve been able to live in humans?”
“As I said,” Athena replied carefully, “the humans die and it doesn’t last long.”
“But they can still stay here?”
“It’s a half-life, a wasted existence,” Athena spat. “A fate I’d wish on no god or mortal alike. Don’t be foolish, when your time comes, Persephone, just go.”
With that, Athena was gone.
I turned to my companion and stared at her, but it was clear she was not swayed. Athena’s knowledge had sparked an interest in Persephone which frightened me. She laid her hand on my arm again and pulled me close. The familiar warmth spread through me as I held her close and felt like I never wanted to let her go.
“I can’t go. I don’t belong anywhere. I’m something that was brought into existence by two beings never meant to couple,” she said against my chest.
I stroked her hair while I still could. “That’s not right.”
“Will you come with me, then?” she asked.
For the first time I felt strength enough to say no to her. “It’s not my time.” Not sure how I knew it, but I did, and I was strong in that conviction.
“I can’t go without you,” she all but sobbed. She grabbed the front of my shirt and held fast to me. “Hades, I can sense the portals. I know exactly where they all are, and if we just avoid them, I can stay here with you. I can live in the humans, and what do they really matter in the end, even if they die? They are plenty. Enough to live with you for centuries.”
I felt sick to my stomach, but her desperation cut me right to the core. It was confusing. A woman I had no connection to, no bond with, a woman I spent hundreds of years beside but barely spoke ten words, yet I wanted to keep her by my side.
Cry, Nike! (The Judas Curse) Page 13
