Storms of Olympus

by Eliza Raine

  ‘You’re defending him?’

  ‘No! I’m saying those are the two reasons you shouldn’t trust him.’

  Eryx drew his eyebrows together.

  ‘You’re smart,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Yeah. And I’m driven,’ she replied, looking back down at her drink.

  ‘So I shouldn’t trust you either?’

  She turned to him and the frustration on her face caught him by surprise.

  ‘Eryx, you’re a fool.’ He scowled and folded his massive arms and Evadne let out a long breath. ‘Of course you shouldn’t trust me.’

  He stared at her for a long moment, her words forcing him to admit what he didn’t want to believe.

  ‘You sabotaged the longboat. On Sagittarius,’ he said eventually.

  She nodded. Anger spiked in him.

  ‘They could have been killed,’ he hissed.

  Evadne looked into her drink again.

  ‘The prize is worth it,’ she whispered.

  Eryx took a step back from her.

  ‘You would shorten others’ lives to extend your own?’

  ‘That’s what these Trials are!’ she answered fiercely. ‘That’s what everyone is doing!’

  ‘No.’ Eryx shook his head. ‘No, they’re risking their own lives, and making their own decisions. The only hero who has attacked another is your captain.’ He spat the last words. ‘I saw what he did to Captain Lyssa under the water on Scorpio. He wasn’t trying to win the Trial. He was trying to kill his own daughter.’

  Evadne said nothing and Eryx suddenly felt sick. She didn’t care. He’d hoped that she was better than Hercules. That she was under his influence, scared or confused; but looking at her now, defiant and cold, he knew that wasn’t true.

  ‘You could have killed my captain. If you’re so driven by winning that you can justify murder, then you’re on your own, Evadne,’ he said quietly, his gut twisting as he turned and walked away from her.

  10

  ‘So what about your parents?’ asked Hedone.

  ‘My adopted parents were kind enough, but simple,’ Hercules answered with a shrug as he strolled along the fine sand, swinging Hedone’s shoes in his right hand. His left gripped hers.

  As soon as he had seen her in that dress, his brain had been unable to process anything. She’d slipped from the feast hall moments after arriving, and he had followed her. She’d led him through the palace to a bedroom, covered in red drapes and cushions. Aphrodite’s palace was filled with such rooms, prefect for private trysts, and they had been left completely undisturbed.

  His desire sated for the time being, they walked along the beach, holding hands because nobody else was around. Though Hercules was ceasing to care whether Theseus knew of his feelings for Hedone. He still didn’t want to force a confrontation with the man, not yet, but he couldn’t not be with her. Her body, her voice, her lips, her scent, they were all intoxicating.

  ‘I never met my parents,’ she said, kicking lightly at the sand. ‘They left me at the temple when I was born, and Theseus brought me to Pisces when I was sixteen.’

  ‘They knew you would be powerful,’ Hercules told her, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it. She smiled at him, and his whole body reacted.

  ‘You think I’m powerful?’

  ‘Very.’

  She looked thoughtful.

  ‘Do you think I am strong?’

  Hercules thought for a moment, before answering.

  ‘I think you are strong of mind.’

  She laughed, a twinkling laugh.

  ‘Not simple like your parents, then?’

  ‘No, no, definitely not,’ he smiled.

  ‘Would you…’ Hedone trailed off, looking back at her feet nervously.

  ‘Go on.’ Hercules gave her hand a squeeze of encouragement.

  ‘Would you ever be able to have children again? After what Hera made you do?’ Hedone looked at him hopefully, from under her thick lashes.

  Children? He hadn’t ever considered having more children. If he were to be immortal, what would be the point? But he could see the answer Hedone wanted, clear on her face. And how could he deny her anything?

  ‘Of course. In time,’ he said.

  She beamed and squeezed his hand.

  ‘We should get back,’ she said, looking over her shoulder at the palace, the white marble dazzling against the deep pink sky and the bright blue ocean. ‘Aphrodite will be arriving soon.’

  Hercules nodded, and stopped walking. He spun her close to him, shuddering with pleasure at her giggle.

  ‘Kiss me, my goddess,’ he whispered.

  ‘Always,’ she breathed back, as her lips met his.

  Aphrodite showed off her flawless beauty by being naked save for a thin, silk robe that covered her enticing parts. A curious breath of air would suddenly, and excitedly blow the robe aside, revealing her virgin bloom. Then it would blow directly on the garment, causing it to cling to her, clearly outlining the pleasing promise of her body. Aphrodite’s appearance gave contrasting colours to the viewer, her skin shining white and her robe a dark blue like the sea she was born from.

  EXCERPT FROM

  The Golden Ass by Apuleius

  Written 2 AD

  Paraphrased by Eliza Raine

  11

  ‘You really love strawberries, huh?’ Phyleus smiled at Lyssa as she picked a plump red fruit from a passing tray.

  ‘Yup,’ she said, dropping the strawberry into her mouth and closing her eyes.

  ‘They’re not my favourite,’ said Abderos. ‘I like oranges.’

  Phyleus pulled a face.

  ‘Oranges? Over strawberries? No way,’ he said, shaking his head.

  A loud gong sounded, interrupting the impending argument.

  ‘Please, honoured guests, welcome your host.’ A low seductive voice echoed through the hall. The room stilled, guests turning their heads this way and that, in search of the goddess. Lyssa looked around too. She had seen everyone from the Trials except Hercules, along with a number of famous faces, but no gods. All the beautiful nobodies desperately trying to be somebodies made her uncomfortable, so she had stuck like glue to her crew-mates. And every time Abderos had tried to wheel his way over to somebody else she had either found a reason for him to stay or gone with him, so that she would not be alone with Phyleus.

  She realised people were pointing at the pool, hands to their gasping mouths, and she craned her neck to look. Rising from the water, bone-dry and breath-taking, was Aphrodite. She was wearing a gossamer robe of deep, royal blue, draped effortlessly over one shoulder and tied at her waist. It was so sheer it covered none of her modesty and Lyssa cursed herself for blushing. She glanced sideways at Phyleus’s gaping face and narrowed her eyes. White-blond hair the colour of Nestor’s tumbled over Aphrodite’s bare shoulder, shining with its own light, and ruby red lips stood out on her alabaster skin.

  ‘Good evening, honoured guests,’ she said, spreading her hands. ‘Thank you so much for joining me.’

  Lyssa’s jaw twitched. Like they had a choice.

  ‘Tonight we welcome the heroes of the Immortality Trials, as they stand on the brink of taking on their eighth Trial.’ She stepped gracefully across the surface of the pool and accepted a glass of sparkling liquid from a waiting dryad. She raised it in the air. ‘To the noble heroes,’ she said.

  ‘To the noble heroes,’ the room echoed, everyone raising their glasses in a toast. Lyssa didn’t drink. She scanned the hall, looking for Hercules, but she couldn’t see him. He would be loving this, she thought darkly.

  ‘So we have the Alastor, the Hybris and the Orion with two wins each, and the Virtus with one. Hmmm. As much as I have enjoyed watching the Trials so far, I think Hermes let you off pretty easily.’ She smiled. ‘I’m going to add a little more… danger to the next one. But as always, with great risk comes great reward. The winner of the next Trial will be granted any wish they like.’

  A murmur of excitement ri
ppled through the room and Abderos looked up at Lyssa.

  ‘Captain—’ he started, but Aphrodite spoke again and he fell silent.

  ‘The Trial will begin in one hour. Dance, drink, eat, love,’ she said, her seductive voice spurring people’s feet to move. Music began playing and Lyssa was swaying in time with it before she realised what she was doing.

  ‘Captain! Captain, she said any wish!’ Abderos’s face was alive with excitement. Lyssa stilled, staring at him. ‘My legs! This is it! I’m going to be able to walk again!’

  ‘Ab…’ She said slowly. ‘We may not win.’

  He dismissed her words with a wave of his hand.

  ‘This is what I’ve been waiting for, Captain, a wish from the gods!’

  ‘She said this one would be dangerous, Ab,’ said Phyleus.

  ‘So? They’ve all been dangerous. Captain, please, please use the wish on my legs?’

  Lyssa looked into his eager young face, her chest tightening.

  ‘Of course I will, if we win, but you can’t get your hopes up like this. The goal is to stop Hercules from winning.’

  A flicker of doubt passed over his face, but it was gone in an instant.

  ‘You can win, Cap, I know you can.’

  ‘I’m injured. Epizon is still out of action. We don’t even know what the Trial is yet! Please, Ab, don’t get too excited about this,’ she pleaded.

  ‘I know you’ll do it,’ he insisted.

  Gods, she wanted to. Winning Abderos his wish would be incredible. But the Alastor wasn’t at full strength, they were on Theseus’s home realm, and there were too many things they didn’t know.

  ‘I’ll try, Abderos,’ she said quietly. He beamed at her and she turned away, guilt washing through her.

  ‘You will try, and we’ll be here too,’ said Phyleus, his voice in her head. She looked at him, drinking in the steady reassurance showed by the small nod he gave her. Nestor’s hooves clicked on the marble as she approached them.

  ‘Are you ready, Captain?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ said Lyssa, and downed the remainder of her wine. ‘Aphrodite told us to dance, drink and eat. So that’s what I’m going to do.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Phyleus, and he followed her to where everyone was now dancing.

  The music was different to what she had heard on other realms. There was a slow, steady pulse under the melody, and keeping time with it was effortless, her body moving of its own accord to the beat. Phyleus caught her hand and spun her around, and she let him. Why not? Epizon had said go with it.

  ‘Abderos doesn’t understand the pressure he’s putting on you,’ Phyleus said, in her head. ‘But don’t let it affect you.’

  ‘I don’t want to think about it now,’ she answered, closing her eyes and wishing the music was louder. It seemed to respond, the volume increasing and taking over her thoughts.

  ‘You need to. The Trial is in less than an hour,’ he cut across them.

  She opened her eyes and glared at him.

  ‘Don’t tell me what to do, Phyleus.’

  ‘I’m not! I’m trying to help,’ he protested, still holding her hand.

  ‘Then give me an hour off! An hour off from being everybody’s captain, from making decisions that may kill my friends, from risking their lives. An hour off from thinking about facing him again!’ She was shouting at him, aloud, but nobody noticed. The music was too loud, and they were all as caught up in the song as she wanted to be.

  Phyleus stared at her for a heartbeat, then pulled her to him. Her body slammed into his, pain registered in her shoulder, and then his hand was in her hair, pulling her face towards his. Their lips met and desire erupted through her whole body. Her mind emptied, nothing but heat and longing and pleasure rippling through her in streams. She kissed him hungrily, pulling her hand free of his and finding his chest. She pressed her palm flat to his skin, feeling his heartbeat thudding against his ribs as his now-free hand wrapped around her waist.

  ‘Gods, I want you,’ he whispered, breaking the kiss and moving back to look at her. ‘You’re… You’re incredible.’

  Lyssa stared at him, panting slightly, her skin vibrating with power.

  ‘Dance with me, Phyleus,’ she said. ‘For one hour, take me away.’

  He leaned in, kissing her again, softly this time, and shivers flitted across her skin, nerves tingling.

  ‘Anything for my captain,’ he murmured, moving his hips against hers as the music beat through their bodies.

  12

  Eryx leaned against a column, watching the waves lap gently at the sand, the twilight sky beyond reflected in its calm surface. How little like Scorpio’s oceans it was, he thought. The beat of the music pulsed through him, making his muscles tense and his brain feel foggy. He was relieved when it abruptly stopped. Fighting the urge to go and find Evadne was exhausting.

  ‘Heroes,’ sang Aphrodite’s voice. He turned towards the pool, where she was once again standing. He scanned the throng of dancing bodies, and he saw Evadne, chest heaving, smiling at a barely dressed maenad. His breath hitched, and he forced himself to concentrate on the goddess. Once his eyes were on her, it wasn’t hard to keep them there. She was like every dream any man, or woman, didn’t know they had. All possible desires in one place. Her robe clung to her perfect body and he swallowed hard.

  ‘It is time for your eighth Trial. There are some stables not far from here, run by the vicious Diomedes. He has four horses that are quite exceptional in that they breathe fire. They are also quite mad, for Diomedes has fed them since birth on human flesh. Capture one of these horses, and you shall be the victor.’ Aphrodite smiled a heart-warming smile, and suddenly Eryx was outside the palace.

  He looked left and right. His crew were there, standing beside him in the dim light, the giants looming tall. They were on earthy ground, trees dotting the landscape. Far in the distance he could see firelight, and a low building.

  ‘Is that the stables?’ he asked, pointing.

  ‘I guess so.’ Antaeus shrugged, and lurched off towards them.

  They walked quickly, and the sky dimmed ever more dramatically the further from the palace they got. As they got closer the low building revealed itself to be a single-storey wooden hut.

  ‘Didn’t she say they breathed fire?’ asked Busiris quietly.

  ‘Yeah. Why?’

  ‘I wouldn’t keep anything that breathed fire in a building made from wood,’ he answered.

  Eryx thought about it. Busiris was right. That didn’t make sense.

  A distant neighing sounded, though, and Antaeus raised his eyebrows and kept walking. They slowed as they got close, straining to see or hear anything. There was a light flickering between the planks of the back of the building, a brazier perhaps. They crept closer, just a few feet from the hut, veering towards the left wall. Where were the other crews? Suddenly, bright flickering light framed the building, accompanied by a loud screech. Eryx ducked instinctively, but the light died down quickly, along with the eerie sound.

  ‘What was that?’ Antaeus hissed.

  ‘The fire-breathing horses, I would imagine, Captain,’ answered Busiris. Eryx glared at him.

  ‘Keep moving,’ Antaeus grunted. They edged their way around the building, the calm quiet of the place forcing silence upon them. When they reached the end of the building they all stopped, craning over each other to peer around the wood.

  Tethered to an enormous brazier in front of the hut were four giant white mares. They were so large Antaeus could easily have ridden one. Their coats gleamed in the firelight as they ducked their heads, feasting on something that lay on the ground. Eryx leaned forward to look, but he already knew what they were eating. He could smell the bloody tang of raw meat in the air. Albion let out a long breath beside him.

  ‘They’re beautiful,’ whispered Antaeus.

  One of the horses raised its head, snickering at another as it tore a large chunk of meat off the carcass and lifted it high. The first horse bare
d its teeth and Eryx saw that its eyes were as solid and black as Busiris’s were. A light in the creature’s mouth caught his attention, and he jumped as the horse roared flames at the beast with the meat. The blaze shot forward at least six feet and the other mare leaped backwards, kicking and snarling. The mares continued to scrap with each other, the meat becoming charred as they fought over it. Eryx dropped to a crouch.

  How in the name of Zeus were they going to catch one of those things?

  The eighth task Hercules had to complete was capturing the mares of Diomedes the Thracian. The troughs the horses fed from were made of brass because their teeth were so savage, and they were only kept in one place by strong iron chains. They did not eat natural produce of the earth like other horses, rather they fed on the flesh of strangers, tearing apart their limbs.

  EXCERPT FROM

  Library of History by Diodorus Siculus

  Written 1 BC

  Paraphrased by Eliza Raine

  13

  Hedone leaned against the tree and watched the horses as they fought, blasting shots of fire at one another and tossing meat between them. They were at the same time quite beautiful and incredibly ugly.

  ‘Where’s Diomedes?’ whispered Psyche. ‘And why do I have to do this in a damn dress? I thought we’d be sent back to the Virtus first or I’d have worn something different.’

  Hedone cast a glance at Psyche’s impressive dress, then looked down at her own open-fronted garment. She wasn’t expecting to get close to those things, so she wasn’t all that worried. She scanned the darkening plain, looking for signs of the other crews. For signs of Hercules.

  ‘The giants are behind the stable,’ murmured Theseus. She looked, and caught sight of movement, too high up to be human.

  ‘The others?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Look!’ One of the black-skinned giants was creeping around the side of the stable, towards the horses. Movement in the other direction caught Hedone’s eye, and her heart skipped as she saw the distinctive outline of a lion-skin cloak, growing clearer as it got nearer to the firelight.