by Eliza Raine
The branch currently acting as a pier for the ships in the Trials was broad enough to accommodate ten people across its width, and ran all the way up to beautiful arched wooden doors set into the trunk of the central tree. Rising from the wood above were more seamless structures, weaving in and out of the trunk and its branches. They stood out from the lower buildings not only for their size, but for their shining patterns painted everywhere. Dancing golden lights made the patterns look like they were moving in the shadow of the trees’ foliage.
The Alastor and the Virtus were already docked on the other side of the branch. Evadne wondered for a moment about the Orion until a shadow fell over their own sails, and the giants’ Zephyr came overhead and descended in front of them, drawing level with the flat branch. Hercules vaulted over the railings and onto the branch without a sideways look at her. She hopped lightly up onto the railings after him, adjusting her belt as she landed on the wood of the tree. Captain Lyssa and the brown-haired boy Evadne remembered was called Phyleus did the same on the other side of the branch.
Theseus and the beautiful Hedone were already standing there, waiting. Evadne watched as Hedone’s eyes fell on Hercules and stayed there. There was a thud as Antaeus joined them on the branch and she suppressed a small smile at the sight of Eryx next to him, five feet shorter with his dark hair tied up in a knot. She was glad his chest had healed. And surprised by the fact that she was glad. A shimmering light in front of the double doors caught everybody’s attention and they all turned as Dionysus appeared. He seemed to grow in front of them until it was easy to see him clearly. He was wearing leather fighting trousers, no shirt and a beaming grin. His hair flopped over his forehead as he threw both hands in the air and bellowed, ‘Heroes!’
Evadne couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face.
‘I’m so glad you’re here!’ Dionysus walked towards them, his ruddy face crinkling in a genuine smile. He didn’t look like the other gods, Evadne thought. ‘Come, come, we must feast before we begin this Trial. It is very important to enjoy the finer things in life,’ he said with a wink. ‘But I see none of you are dressed for an occasion. We can fix that,’ he said to himself, nodding. ‘Yes, yes we can definitely fix that.’
Evadne took a sharp breath as she felt movement against her body and looked down. Her fighting leathers were gone and in their place was a tight-fitting red floor-length gown. She took a step backwards, putting her hands to her bodice as she did so. The dress was low-cut and pushed her breasts up so that they looked bigger than they really were. It was cinched at the waist with a long ribbon, making the material flow out over her hips and giving her a shapely look that her lithe, athletic form didn’t usually have.
She looked around at the others. Captain Lyssa looked the most different. The headscarf was gone from her flowing red curls and they fell around her shoulders, drawing attention to the one-sleeved gold satin toga clinging to her body. Deep gold brocade lined the edges and the expensive-looking material flattered her beautifully. Evadne almost laughed at the look on Lyssa’s face, though, as she surveyed the dress, picking up the folds of fabric and dropping them again in confusion and frustration. Phyleus said something to her and she punched him in the arm, making him stumble back laughing.
A pang of jealousy took Evadne by complete surprise, and she turned to Hercules. He looked resplendent in a traditional black toga, revealing half of his fine chest, and a fine circlet of gold topped his dark hair. His gaze was nowhere near her, though. It was fixed on Hedone.
She was now dressed in a gossamer silk gown that wrapped tightly around her chest and was held up by ribbons that came around her neck and crisscrossed all the way down her back to the low-slung skirt of the dress. Jealousy fully took hold of Evadne and she screwed her face up. Was she jealous of the way Hercules was looking at Hedone? Or was she just jealous of Hedone’s beauty?
‘Come,’ boomed Dionysus. We must feast with our hosts.’ He turned, and the carved doors swung open.
Dionysus wanted to travel from Ikaria to Naxos so he hired a ship of pirates to take him. But they took him captive to sell on as a slave in Asia. In response, he turned the mast and the oars of the boat into snakes and covered the whole boat in ivy and filled it with the sound of flutes playing. The pirates all went mad and jumped into the ocean, where they were turned into dolphins.
EXCERPT FROM
The Library by Apollodorus
Written 300–100 bc
Paraphrased by Eliza Raine
8
Lyssa shifted uncomfortably in the heavy satin dress, fiddling with the skirt as she tried to pay attention to what King Augeas was saying. She was all too aware of Phyleus’s eyes drifting to her bare shoulder, and it was making her cheeks flush.
They were seated at a dining table ten times the size of the one in the galley on the Alastor, in a room carved from a hollow of the giant tree itself. Antaeus, the giant, hadn’t been able to fit through the carved doors and had looked horrified when Dionysus had waved his hand and shrunk him by five feet. Although Eryx hadn’t needed shrinking, he had looked equally as uncomfortable as she was about being dressed in a formal toga and she certainly wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of either him or Antaeus now.
The dining hall was lit by what must have been a hundred dancing fairy lights, suspended in mid-air and casting a warm flickering glow over everybody in the room. The lighting, the clothes: they were clearly meant to flatter everybody. Dionysus sat in the centre of his side of the table, still bare-chested, laughing uproariously at everything that was said to him. The royal family of Elis sat either side of him, King Augeas and his eldest son on his right and the King’s wife and daughter on his left.
Phyleus and his father had so far only traded polite nods but Lyssa hadn’t failed to notice the glares the King kept throwing his estranged son. They were sitting at the far end of their side of the table, Theseus and Hedone next to them, then Hercules and Evadne and lastly Antaeus and Eryx.
A feast rivalling that of the starting ceremony had been laid out before them; olives, meats and fruits, including even strawberries. Lyssa had loaded her plate with the tiny red fruits and had a steaming mug of hot black coffee in front of her.
‘Are you going to eat anything other than strawberries? asked Phyleus. Lyssa shrugged. ‘It’s just, they’re not very nutritious, are they?’ he said.
She snorted at his pile of whitish flatbreads.
‘And those are?’
‘Probably not,’ he conceded. He tore off a chunk and used it to scoop up a thick red paste. ‘But I missed this,’ he said.
‘Why did you leave?’ Lyssa asked before she could stop herself.
His face darkened. ‘I’m the second son. That means my father has little use for me. He sent me… He sent me to do something that most people would not survive.’
Lyssa stopped eating and looked at him. ‘Why?’
‘Because on the off-chance I did survive, I might come back with something he needed.’
Lyssa’s eyebrows drew together. ‘And did you?’ she asked.
Phyleus looked at his father, deep in conversation with his older brother.
‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘But he doesn’t need to know that.’
‘Huh.’ Lyssa turned back to her plate of strawberries. ‘Maybe we have more in common than I first thought,’ she said without looking at him.
‘I did tell you that, some time ago,’ Phyleus said.
‘Yeah, well. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but…’ She met his eyes, warm and honest and open. ‘… sometimes I can be a little stubborn,’ she said quietly. A smile that lit up his eyes took over Phyleus’s face and she couldn’t help but give a small one in return.
‘Phyleus.’ They both turned to the source of the voice. It was Phyleus’s mother. She was a delicate-looking woman, with slight, high cheekbones and a well-defined jawline. Her eyes and hair were the same warm brown as Phyleus’s. ‘How have you been?’
Phy
leus shrugged.
‘Well, I was kidnapped by a slaver, caught as a stowaway on a smugglers’ ship and have recently been fighting for my life, and immortality, in the Trials. So pretty busy, really.’ He tore another lump off his bread. For once, Lyssa admired his arrogance. He was acting like for all the world he didn’t care that he was back in the place he had deliberately left. But the way he had just spoken about his father… Lyssa wasn’t so sure.
At the tinging sound of metal against glass, everybody looked towards Dionysus, who got to his feet holding a glass of red wine.
‘I would like to propose a toast,’ he said. He waved his hand and identical glasses appeared in front of each of the captains. Phyleus looked sharply at Lyssa as she picked hers up. She frowned at him. ‘Captains, raise your glass.’ Lyssa did so, wondering why she could see slight panic in Phyleus eyes. ‘You have taken on a grave responsibility for the ultimate prize. You are heroes. To the heroes!’ Dionysus said, lifting his glass high in the air, then swigging deeply from it.
‘To the heroes,’ chanted everybody else in the room.
‘Wait—’ Phyleus started to say as Lyssa tipped the wine into her mouth. Exasperation crossed his face for a second, then he grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her.
He did it so fast Lyssa didn’t know how to react. She was stunned. Wine sloshed from her mouth to his and she felt his tongue against her lips. Energy fizzed across her skin, her body reacting without her permission. Her brain kicked in, though, and she pulled back from him.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ she hissed.
‘I’m sorry, I really, really am sorry.’ He looked it, too. Dionysus clapped slowly and Lyssa’s eyes snapped to him.
‘Nice try, young Phyleus, but she must drink it all.’
Phyleus looked at her glass, still half full of red wine, then back at Lyssa. ‘The wine,’ he said resignedly. ‘It induces madness.’
Panic and outrage erupted around the room and Dionysus held up a hand to silence them all.
‘He’s right. God of wine and madness, remember?’ Dionysus pointed at himself with a massive grin. ‘You have about fifteen minutes until the effects kick in. Captain Lyssa, if you please?’ He gestured at what remained of her drink.
Madness? Why would she drink something that would make her mad? Her hand moved towards the glass of its own volition and she started.
‘Don’t make this difficult for yourself,’ the wine god chided. She seethed, knowing it was pointless to resist, but still refusing to yield.
‘Lyssa,’ whispered Phyleus. She barked a cry of anger and picked up the glass, throwing the wine into her mouth. It tasted so divine that for a moment she resented Phyleus for stealing half of it away from her. As she swallowed and the taste faded, though, the implications of what he had done sank in. She’d swallowed none of that first mouthful. He had taken it all. She would have had half of what the other captains drank. That could be all she needed to beat them.
For his fifth labour Hercules was asked by King Augeas of Elis to remove all the dung from his stable of cattle in just a day. Hercules agreed with him that if he succeeded he could have the tithe of the cattle. Augeas’s son, Phyleus, bore witness as Hercules diverted two rivers through the stables, cleaning them completely. Augeas refused to pay and Phyleus was called to confirm what Hercules had done. Augeas exiled both his son and Hercules from Elis.
EXCERPT FROM
The Library by Apollodorus
Written 300–100 bc
Paraphrased by Eliza Raine
9
Eryx looked from the empty wine glass in Antaeus’s hand to his furious face.
‘Madness?’ the giant growled through his teeth. ‘If this is true, Eryx, I will need you to help me.’
Eryx nodded, silently. He prayed that by the time they got to whatever they had to do, Antaeus would be returned to his normal size again.
‘Excellent,’ said Dionysus, and clapped his hands together. ‘Now that we have all had our fill of refreshments, let’s get on with the Trial!’ He gestured to the king. ‘Good King Augeas here keeps many exotic creatures in his palace stables. And by exotic, I do of course mean the bloodthirsty killer type. Each of you will get a stall in the stables to clear out. A cord at the back of the stall will flood the animals’ pens with water; all you have to do is pull it. But it must be the captain who pulls it. Oh, and then get back up through the palace to the throne room. First one back wins.’ He beamed at everybody in the room as he drew his hands to his mouth. ‘And as a little bonus, you’ll also win the loyalty of whatever creature you were mucking out. Don’t say I don’t care about you lovely folk!’ He grinned, wagging his finger at them all.
Eryx stared, trying to make sense of what he was saying. They had to muck out animals?
‘To the stables!’ Dionysus sang happily, and everything went black.
When he opened his eyes a second later, Eryx was standing in line with the others, facing a closed stable door. Antaeus was beside him, blinking in confusion but mercifully back to his full height.
Eryx turned slowly on the spot. There was a wall behind them, but when he looked up there was no ceiling, just a thick canopy of trees shading them. The line of stable doors seemed to stretch forever in both directions and he saw the others looking around nervously too, each in front of a different door. How did they get out once they had pulled the cord?
‘On my mark, good heroes,’ came Dionysus’s voice. Eryx tensed, facing the stall again. ‘Captain Lyssa: you, my dear, will be facing…’ The god paused overly long and the girl snorted with impatience. ‘… a chimera! Good luck with that!’ he boomed. ‘Captain Hercules, you lucky thing, you have a manticore! Clever Captain Theseus gets a clever monster, a sphinx! And lastly, but oh so not leastly, Captain Antaeus gets my favourite, a panther! Go!’ he bellowed, and the stable doors swung open.
10
‘Phyleus, did he say chimera?’ said Lyssa, uncharacteristically nervous.
‘Yes,’ Phyleus answered, looking left towards all the other heroes, who were cautiously approaching the stalls.
‘It was a chimera that took Ab’s legs,’ she said quietly. He looked at her, sympathy and warmth filling his expression. ‘Thanks for taking half the wine,’ she murmured. ‘But wouldn’t it have been better to have one of us sane?’
Phyleus shook his head. ‘The royal families on Taurus give the wine to their children, so they develop an immunity to it.’ Lyssa looked horrified.
‘You send your children mad?’
‘Nobody believes a drink is poisoned if you are also drinking it. They’ve been doing it for centuries.’
This time Lyssa’s face filled with sympathy. ‘They did that to you?’
Phyleus sighed and took her hand.
‘Come on, we need to get going, before the madness kicks in,’ he said, and tugged her towards the stall.
Lyssa thought it might already be too late. There was a short passage in front of them, with rakes and shovels propped against one wall and she was sure they were whispering to her. She gripped Phyleus’s hand tighter, and he glanced at her.
‘Can you fight a chimera?’ he asked her.
She laughed, surprised by the sound. ‘Why would I want to fight a chimera?’
‘Well, you won’t have to if we can get past it and pull the cord. But just in case… Are you ready to fight?’
Lyssa thought about the question as they reached the second stable door. There was no roof above them, she realised, and she tipped her head back to look at the huge green leaves overhead. Was she ready to fight? No. She didn’t want to fight. She wanted to fly.
‘I want to fly,’ she told Phyleus.
‘Shit,’ he said. She frowned at him.
‘Will you fly with me?’ she asked. Vines were growing from behind his ears, curling up and over his thick hair and intertwining to make a crown. ‘I’d like to fly with a prince.’ She smiled.
A loud, angry snort pulled her attention back to th
e door. ‘What’s in there?’ she asked.
Phyleus blew out a long breath. ‘Lyssa, listen to me. I need you to get angry. Call your power.’
Something was scratching at the stable door and she reached out.
‘No!’ said Phyleus but she ignored him, pulling on the rope handle. It wasn’t fair to keep animals cooped up.
Lyssa screamed as the door swung open. A lion stood before her, spreading its huge red leathery wings and flicking its scaled dragon’s tail. Not a lion, she thought, and that word rang through her head again: chimera. Chimeras had three heads. The goat head looked harmless enough, its dull ivory horns curled in and unable to do much damage. But the dragon head… As red as the massive wings and horribly reminiscent of the Hydra with its jutting horns, it opened its mouth, showing glowing embers deep inside its throat. There was a metallic thud next to her and she looked down, surprised to find she was sitting on the dusty ground, a shovel tumbling to a stop beside her.
‘Pick it up!’ yelled Phyleus.
A chimera took Abderos’s legs. The thought stilled her hand. She couldn’t fight a chimera. They took people’s legs. Heart-stopping fear gripped her chest and she looked desperately at her own legs, pulling at the golden gown. They weren’t there. Bile rose in her throat as she scrabbled frantically at the fabric. She had no legs!
Tears spilled from her eyes as she screamed, drowning out the sound of the lion’s roar.
