by Eliza Raine
She raised her eyebrows. ‘No.’
‘You haven’t even heard it yet!’ he said indignantly.
‘Hear him out, Cap,’ said Abderos. She shot him a glare, and he wheeled his chair back half a foot. ‘Or not.’ Abderos shrugged.
‘I have a lot more silver than what’s in that little box you got from Lady Lamia. Enough to give you a decent shot at the Trials,’ Phyleus said.
‘No,’ repeated Lyssa. ‘No way.’
‘In return I’d want a place on the crew of the Alastor.’
Lyssa pushed herself to her feet. ‘Is this a bloody joke to you?’ she yelled. Epizon rose to his feet beside her. ‘You heard Zeus; we’ll likely all be killed!’
‘But if you win, we all become immortal!’ Phyleus protested.
‘I think you should consider his offer,’ said Epizon levelly.
Lyssa shot her first mate a foul look. ‘Well, I’m not interested, and I’m the captain, so he leaves.’ She folded her arms and sat back in the creaky wooden chair.
‘Captain, how are we supposed to compete in twelve deadly Trials with no money? We have no idea how long they’ll take, and we’re already dangerously low on rations.’
Lyssa narrowed her eyes and stared at the deck.
‘If this is going to be as dangerous as Athena and Zeus implied, then we could definitely do with stocking up the infirmary,’ said Len quietly.
Guilt washed through Lyssa. She looked at the satyr. ‘Phyleus is an arrogant, glory-hunting idiot who wanted nothing to do with this ship before he had a shot at immortality. He has no place here.’
‘I can hear you, you know,’ Phyleus said from the railings.
‘I’m well aware of that.’ She looked directly at him. ‘I don’t care how much bloody silver you’re offering us. You don’t buy your way onto this crew!’
‘You clearly need the money!’ Phyleus protested, pushing away from the railings and turning his hands up beseechingly. ‘You can buy new clothes, stock your galley to bursting, fix your broken longboat—’
‘How the hell does he know our longboat is broken!’ Lyssa exclaimed, looking straight at Abderos.
The navigator looked away meekly. ‘He was here for ages, Cap, and he asks lots of questions. Sorry,’ he mumbled.
‘The point is, I’ve not seen your living quarters, but I bet they could do with some new blankets, your washrooms some soap …’
A pang of longing shot through Lyssa. Soap. Gods, she’d love some soap.
‘The Alastor needs some love, and I can fund it,’ Phyleus said. He had moved closer to the crew as he spoke.
‘New blankets. Imagine new blankets, Cap,’ said Abderos.
‘He doesn’t seem so bad,’ shrugged the satyr. ‘Not bad enough to turn down food for.’
‘We really need to fix that longboat, Captain,’ said Epizon.
Lyssa sighed and closed her eyes. She didn’t like that Phyleus reminded her of her past, and she hated his arrogant haughtiness, but he didn’t seem dangerous. He was brave and ambitious to want to compete in the Trials, and he looked fit and strong enough to work on the ship. And, gods, they needed the money.
‘Well. It seems I am outnumbered. You’d better be able to get us this silver before the feast tonight.’ She stood up and looked him in the eye. ‘Welcome to the Alastor.’ Sarcasm dripped from her voice.
‘You won’t regret this, Captain,’ he beamed at her, emphasising the word Captain.
‘I doubt that,’ she growled.
8
Hedone rolled onto her back, letting out a long breath. The plush silk sheets tangled around her legs as she turned. She ignored them, staring at the wood panelling on the ceiling. The Trials started tomorrow, and she knew she should be excited about her first day on Theseus’s new ship, the Virtus.
He had been so proud when he unveiled the ship, excitement buzzing through him as he showed her and her fellow crew members the huge, shimmering sails and big, spindly navigation wheel. His eyes had shone as he had presented her with the luxurious living quarters she now lounged in, white silk draped over rich mahogany everywhere she looked. And while it was all beautiful, she couldn’t help feeling like something was missing. She was aware, dimly, that Theseus’s enthusiasm used to be infectious and that his presence in her bedroom when he was showing her the ship should have been important to her. When she thought of him and his laughing eyes, she got a fleeting rush that was instantly replaced with a bored melancholy. It was confusing her.
She sighed again and sat up in the huge bed. She hated being alone. It was one of the many drawbacks of being the demigoddess of pleasure. Every night she spent in the company of another seemed to deepen her feeling of isolation, but her power compelled her to share herself and be with others. More than anything in the world, she wanted to love somebody, and feel their love in return. Theseus flashed in her mind, but his face vanished almost immediately, and the hollow loneliness settled again.
Psyche and Bellerophon, her two crew mates, had suggested they get some sleep this afternoon so that they were ready for tonight. They had been so much more excited than her about the Trials. Everyone was competing to become immortal. There was nobody in Olympus who didn’t want eternal life, surely, Hedone told herself. But it was almost too much for her to consider. She ran a finger down the side of her cheek, feeling the soft skin of her face. What would she do with a never-ending life if she had nobody to share it with? Maybe that was why she felt so unsettled. The thought of being lonely forever filled her with dread. Again a surge of emotion rose in her but was so fleeting she couldn’t hold on to it. It was almost like she had forgotten something important. She reached for it mentally, scrunching her perfect face up as she tried to place it, but nothing came. She began to speak aloud.
‘O Aphrodite, hear my prayer. Please send me somebody to love who will love me eternally in return. Please, end my loneliness.’
She sat for a while longer, imagining a perfect life. She pictured her beautiful home on Pisces, her children running up the beach towards her. She hugged her legs to herself as she imagined the big strong arms of a beaming man, scooping all of them up in an embrace, telling them he loved them and would always be there for them. She heard the laughter in her head as they played together, not a worry in the world. She felt the warmth on her skin as her dream man ran his hands along her shoulders, down her body, whispering his need for her. Her eyes filled with tears as the longing grew.
‘Please, Aphrodite. Send me love,’ she whispered.
As he passed through Pholoe, Hercules was entertained by the centaur Pholus. He roasted meat for Hercules to eat whilst he ate his own meat raw. Hercules called for wine, but Pholus only had sacred wine that belonged to the centaurs. Hercules told him to be brave and not to worry and opened the wine. The centaurs smelled the wine and came to the cave, armed with rocks and trees. Hercules killed all who fought against him, and the rest he shot with arrows as he chased them.
EXCERPT FROM
The Library by Apollodorus
Written 300–100 BC
Paraphrased by Eliza Raine
9
Lyssa didn’t think she had ever seen Len so excited. Admittedly, he didn’t get off the ship as much as she and Epizon did, but she still marvelled at his enthusiasm. It couldn’t all be down to the prospect of seeing so many members of the opposite sex, could it?
Her whole crew was crammed into the little wooden longboat, which was moving slowly with so many passengers, on its way to the feast. She felt tiny as they moved through the maze of ships hovering motionless under the platform. A gentle breeze rolled over them as the longboat drifted along, but the temperature never changed this high above Olympus.
‘Is he always like this?’ Phyleus asked, pointing at Len, who was sitting next to Epizon, telling him at length about the last encounter he had had with a maenad. ‘And what’s a maenad?’
‘He’s not usually quite this bad,’ she answered. ‘And most of what he’s saying righ
t now is untrue, anyway. A maenad is a follower of Dionysus; they’re basically party girls. Always drunk and often dancing. The one he met last year did show him her bottom, but not on purpose. She just didn’t know he was lying on the ground, and danced right over him in a short skirt.’
Phyleus laughed. It was a nice sound, and it annoyed Lyssa that she liked it. She had half hoped he wouldn’t come through on the silver, but the Alastor was now, as he had promised, full to bursting with rations and a fair few luxuries to boot. They hadn’t had time to get the longboat fixed, but she was sure it could wait.
‘We’re about to see a whole lot more than maenads,’ she told him, frowning. He was staring out at the cluster of silent, hovering ships. ‘I bet you know nothing about Olympus at all.’
His features sharpened as he snapped his head round to her. He wore defiance like a mask. ‘I know plenty about Olympus.’
‘Do you know what kind of ship that is?’ She pointed to a gargantuan ship they were passing, with a full-sized pool set between masts twice the size of the Alastor’s, and what she assumed were fake palm trees lining the deck.
Phyleus stared at it, the muscles in his strong neck twitching. He clearly didn’t. Lyssa didn’t feel bad about making him look stupid. It was his own fault for being so stuck-up.
‘I’ll take it from here, Cap,’ said Abderos. His chair was wedged between the rows of seats in the longboat, and he didn’t look very comfortable, but his eyes sparkled at the talk of ships.
‘You’re about to get a lesson from the best,’ she told Phyleus, leaning back.
‘That big ship with the pool is a Zephyr,’ Abderos began. ‘They’re the largest class of ship in Olympus. They were originally designed as cargo ships, so the cargo deck is massive, and really tall, but now they double up as luxury cruising ships, like that one. Apparently, Achilles has a Zephyr with the cargo deck turned into a show hall for all his longboats. Man, I’d love to see that.’ Abderos’s soft blonde hair blew up off his forehead as he let out a long sigh. ‘Anyway, they have three masts and three sails on each, where we have two, ’cause they need the extra power.’
‘Do the ships ever run out of power?’ asked Phyleus.
‘Nope. Not as long as there’s light for the solar sails. And it’s never dark in most of Olympus, so we’re all good. Zephyrs also have a quarterdeck at both ends of the top deck, so you can steer from either end, which is pretty good. Course, the best ships ever made, that’ll be the Whirlwinds.’ He started swivelling in his seat, trying to find one to point out.
Lyssa coughed.
‘After the Alastor, obviously,’ he said distractedly. ‘There’s one!’ He waved excitedly at a ship that was nowhere near as big as the Zephyr, but stood out all the same.
‘Is it made of metal?’ Phyleus asked, squinting at it.
‘No. Just the outside is encased in metal. They’re battleships. Those towers all along the edge are weapons turrets; they all have ballistas in them. They’re basically giant crossbows. And you see how the back of the ship is raised really high? The quarterdeck is high up so the captain can see what’s happening in all the ballista towers. Three masts again, but the sails are much higher up so they don’t block the view from the quarterdeck.’
‘One of many reasons my Crosswind is better,’ said Lyssa. ‘I wouldn’t trade the view of my sails for any number of weapons.’
‘Then it’s just as well Crosswinds can outrun ballistas, Cap,’ Abderos grinned at her.
‘The Alastor is faster than any normal Crosswind, and you know it,’ she said.
‘What’s that long ship?’ asked Phyleus.
‘That’s a Typhoon. A two-mast ship but much longer, and they have ballistas and a small sail on the front. You’ll see how much pointier the front is when we go past in a minute.’
Lyssa stopped listening to Abderos and looked again at the Whirlwind battleship as they floated past, trying to read the name on the side. Hercules had a Whirlwind named Hybris, which meant ‘pride’. That Hercules could take pride in anything that he had done made her feel sick. This ship was called Pali, meaning ‘fight’. She looked back at her own ship, looking small moored between the dozens of larger ships. Small, but solid. She could just make out the word Alastor printed on the bow. It had been easy to name her. Alastor meant ‘blood feud’. Lyssa gritted her teeth. She would beat Hercules.
As the longboat came up over the edge of the platform, Phyleus drew in a breath, and even Len finally stopped talking. The area between the two temples that had held the crowd earlier was now lined with long tables of all different sizes and heights. Benches ran down either side of the tables, and they were covered in food and drink. There were ornate bowls of fruit, giant platters of meat, small dishes holding olives and pastes and dips. There were vegetables Lyssa didn’t even recognise on every bit of tabletop she could see from the boat, and the smell was divine.
At intervals between the tables were tall stone columns that matched the temples, and on top of each was a large, flickering flame. Nothing was holding the flames in place; they just burned gently and impressively on top of the columns. Each of the stages in front of the temples had torches at their corners too. The temple with the blue curtains now had a band set up on the stone stage. A beautiful blonde woman in a silken white toga played an enormous golden harp, and three men sat behind her, playing a variety of stringed instruments that glittered with gold. The music was soft and pretty.
The longboat halted beside the platform, and Len hopped out quickly. Epizon stepped onto the stone platform and then leaned over to grab one side of Abderos’s chair. Lyssa stood to help, but Phyleus got there before her. Together the two men lifted Abderos out of the longboat and onto the platform. Lyssa looked around as she climbed out of the boat last. They weren’t the first to arrive, and there were lots of others around them, chattering excitedly as they left the boats and saw the food.
‘Where shall we sit, Cap?’ asked Abderos, looking up at her.
She scanned the tables and spotted what she was looking for. Hercules was sitting in the centre of the platform, positioned so that he could see everyone. He looked straight back at her. Fire surged across her skin, and she swallowed down the Rage. She looked away and pointed at a table close to the red temple. It was the furthest from him, but they would need to walk past him to reach it. Epizon laid a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at his warm face.
‘It’s fine, Ep. I’m fine,’ she lied, and headed towards the table.
The closer she got to him, the more the Rage flooded her body. Her muscles began to shake as she fought to contain the furious energy. Hercules held her gaze as she approached. She glared back, filling her look with as much hatred as she possibly could, trying to give the anger an outlet. His handsome eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.
‘Daughter,’ he said as she passed in front of him, and he lifted his wine glass.
She froze, her stomach lurching at the word. Epizon stopped a few paces ahead of her and turned to her slowly.
‘Don’t you dare call me daughter, you fucking monster,’ she hissed, turning to Hercules.
He gave a bark of laughter. ‘I’m glad to see you have some fight in you. You must have inherited some of my qualities.’ He took a long drink from the glass. As he lowered it, she spat in his face. He leapt to his feet, his bench clattering to the marble floor behind him.
‘That and your strength, Hercules. Don’t underestimate me,’ she growled.
The fury contorting his attractive face was hugely satisfying, and she gave her own bark of laughter as she whirled on her heel and strode towards Epizon. He turned too, and they made their way quickly down the tables.
‘That wasn’t smart, Captain,’ said Epizon out of the side of his mouth.
‘I know,’ she answered, her heart pounding as adrenaline rushed around her. ‘And I don’t care.’
10
As the red-haired girl got further from him, Hercules calmed his anger. Let her r
un away. He wouldn’t stoop to her level in front of all these staring people. They all knew he was unbeatable; he had no need to prove it here. He would save it for the Trials.
‘Pick that bench up,’ he barked at a servant. A small boy hurried to pick the bench up, and another offered him a piece of cloth. He wiped the girl’s spit from his face and sat down.
‘She’s pathetic,’ purred the girl to his left. He put his hand on her bare leg and felt her tense in anticipation.
‘So was her mother,’ he replied, a hard smile on his face at the memory. His daughter looked like her mother. He wondered if she really had inherited his strength. It seemed unlikely, given that shoddy ship she captained. He forced himself to relax. This child was no threat to him or his ends. The reluctant admiration he felt for her fierceness was just going to make it more satisfying when he made sure she didn’t survive the Trials.
‘Evadne, fetch me more of this wine. These are empty.’
The girl pouted. ‘There are servants for—’
He cut her off by squeezing her leg hard. She stopped talking but didn’t make any noise of pain.
‘Go,’ he said, and let go of her.
She leapt up. He watched her lithe figure move as she sashayed towards the closest servant, her shiny blue-black hair skimming her bare shoulders. It had been hard to find a gunner as young and pretty as she was. He could get any girl he liked whenever they docked, but he had wanted someone on board the Hybris who he could play with whenever he wanted, and there was no way he was letting more members of crew than were necessary on his ship. Not when they would all be granted immortality. The more immortals there were in Olympus, the less special they would be. And he would have to put up with them forever.
