After Life

by Jacquie Underdown

  She shook her head. “I can’t do this … I don’t know how. I’ve not even thought of alchemy since my father was alive.”

  “Never you mind about that. I’ve got a recipe book.” He faced Theron. “You be a sweet boy and climb into that cage, will you?”

  Theron shook his head. “No. I stay near Zoe.”

  Marcus smirked and raised the obliterator. “No, you go into the cage like a good little boy.”

  Theron didn’t budge. “You won’t use that. You need me, too. Zoe won’t do a thing for you if I’m dead.”

  Marcus arched a brow. “Want to test that theory?” His finger slid over the trigger and an arc of energy exploded outwards, soaring barely a centimetre beside Theron’s left ear and hitting the wall where it burned an enormous hole.

  Zoe’s heart thudded. Shock stole her breath. “Go to the cage, Theron. I’ll be fine.”

  Theron met her pleading gaze. She tried to communicate in that moment that it would be okay, and she would come up with a plan. In some way, he must have understood because he nodded and marched to the small cage that was fitted to the back wall.

  Marcus closed the gate and deadlocked it. “That’s a good boy.”

  Theron’s expression didn’t change, instead, he continued to glare at Marcus as though death could be contracted like a disease from that stare.

  Marcus collected a book from a shelf and carried it over to one of the long benches. He dropped it down, opened it, turning pages, then stopped. “Come here.”

  Zoe stood beside him. He jabbed the page.

  She looked to where he was pointing. The writing was familiar, the script of her ancestor Hermes. She had seen his script plenty of times while her father taught her the foundations of alchemy many many years ago. Though, she had never seen this particular page.

  She read aloud.

  Many murmurs for millennia surrounding the

  ‘philosopher’s stone’ has existed.

  Humans believe that once they have their hands

  on this substance, they could turn base metals into gold.

  But mostly, they believe this special substance

  will give them immortality; that they, too,

  could become a god and share our Kingdom forevermore.

  Humans with all their inherent short-sightedness

  failed to realise that the magical element

  they sought after was a part of them.

  Their memory.

  And we, here on Olympus, have had means of capturing

  that essence from the beginning of time.

  Through our process of transporting the dead

  from Earth to the divine, we are in possession of

  every single memory since the dawn of humanity.

  So to the human’s error, this magical element is not

  a mere stone, but rather a coin.

  With enough memories, along with the precious gold

  encasing them, through basic alchemical processes,

  we can concoct a drinkable elixir capable of creating

  immortality in even the most feeble of humans.

  Why we would ever choose to create such a potion, though,

  is another matter entirely. To this day, there remains

  no need for such a medicine.

  Zoe stopped and peered into Marcus’s menacing blue eyes. “You’ve gone mad for power. And here I thought you lusted after gold, but no, it was the immortality it could give you when combined with the essence of life.”

  Marcus smiled smugly. “Insane, sane, it all depends on perspective. Do I think I’m insane to want to restore my immortality? No. Honestly, I can’t believe no one has thought of it before now.”

  Zoe had to admit that she had the same thought. It had been millennia now that the god’s immortality had been declining. If Hermes wrote this account, why hadn’t he created the potion for himself? Or even her own father.

  Her first guess was that it didn’t work for gods. Because human memories were used to create the elixir, it was only humans that it could create immortality for.

  But she couldn’t know for sure. And she wouldn’t know until one of them tried it. And then how did one test such a potion had even worked?

  After a flip of the page, Marcus again stabbed the book with his finger. “Here’s the process. Now make it.”

  She quickly read the first few ingredients. “I need at least thirty kilograms of gold coins smelted down and pounded into fine dust.”

  “I’m always one step ahead. You should know that by now.” Marcus reached under the bench and pulled up five big sacks brimming with shimmering gold dust. “This part I could do. The rest requires an alchemist. An alchemist I most definitely am not. But, thankfully, you are. Now get going.”

  Zoe hesitated, glanced back at Theron. He met her gaze and mouthed, ‘trust me’.

  “That’s enough of that,” Marcus hissed and poked Zoe in her ribs. She groaned and flinched away.

  But she had got the message from Theron. She, again, had to trust him. And if there was only one person left in this kingdom that she could trust, it was Theron. Always. Forever.

  What he could have planned, she didn’t know. He was stuck behind golden bars and doubly bound by golden chains. No god, without the key, could ever break free. And she, herself, was so injured that she could barely stand, let alone carry out an attack or an escape.

  But dormant within Theron were inherited powers long suppressed by vows he had sworn to keep. Could Theron be planning to ‘raise these powers from the dead’ so to speak? A little excited acceleration of her heartbeat confirmed she might be onto something there.

  For the next few hours, Zoe carried out all the steps required to create the immortality elixir. She was near exhaustion as she titrated the last chemicals, then placed the final concoction in a beaker and stood it over a purple flame.

  The elixir bubbled and steamed. From the steam came a torrent of whispering voices as the memories within were stirred to life: men and women, boys and girls, babies’ cries.

  With pliers, she took the beaker from the flame and poured its thick gold contents into a stone cup.

  Marcus rushed over, his eyes wide. “That is it?” he asked, excitement rich in his tone.

  Zoe swayed as she nodded. She had reached the limits of her strength. Her body and mind were shutting down. But she searched deeply for remnants of energy to stay upright, to stay alert. Now was the time. There would be no other.

  Within a few moments, Marcus would drink the elixir.

  Within a few moments, he could be immortal.

  A shadow fell over his face as he stared at the cup. “How can I trust that you’re not going to poison me?”

  Zoe rolled her eyes and huffed out a long sigh. “You don’t. That’s the risk you’re going to have to take.”

  Marcus turned to face Theron, then looked at Zoe. His eyes flickered to the cup, to Theron, to Zoe again. His hands trembled.

  Zoe took a step back. She hadn’t had the strength of mind or body to conceive that once the elixir was concocted that Marcus wouldn’t trust her enough to be able to drink it.

  “You drink it first,” he said pointing to the cup, the sludgy liquid still bubbling like molten rock. “No. No. What if it works? Then you’re immortal. Give it to Theron. I can always just trap him in that cage for eternity…” He stopped, shook his head. “No. Not Theron.”

  Zoe glanced at Theron. He stood stone-faced in his cage.

  “Don’t you look at him—” Marcus stopped, gaze darting around. Zoe followed his line of sight, especially when it landed on the obliterator, which he had left on the other side of the room. He sprung away from her, bolting for the weapon.

  But as he did, an icy wind rose and within that wind, a howling and moaning began as a thousand wasted waifs rose from the dead.

  Marcus was nearly at the obliterator, he dived for it, but the waifs picked him up in the air, whirling him around.

  The knobbly black sh
adows of wasted men and women thickened and darkened. The familiar skittering and scattering sounded. And Zoe realised now what that noise was—teeth clacking together. Teeth clacking as they bit and chewed and picked the meat from Marcus’s bones like a pack of blood-thirsty rats.

  Marcus’s shriek was tortured, agonised. It moved through Zoe in a way she never wished to experience again.

  And just as soon as it began, it stopped. What was left of Marcus dropped to the floor. His skeleton thrashed from side to side, still alive. One of the downsides of being stuck somewhere between mortal and immortal. The way Zoe felt at the moment with the extent of injuries to her body, she could empathise.

  “Quickly, the key,” Theron said. “Be careful, though, he’s not dead yet.”

  Zoe staggered toward Marcus’s remains. A rotten stench rose from his remaining flesh. His jaw clacked open and shut. The eternity spear was in his hand and beside that hand was the key.

  When she moved closer, Marcus jabbed the spear in her direction. Zoe jumped back, jerking her broken ribs. She groaned and buckled over.

  She hadn’t the strength for this anymore. There was only so much more she could take. Keeping a wide berth, she stepped around Marcus and grabbed the obliterator from the bench.

  Without hesitation, her finger fell into position over the trigger. Cool to the touch. Hand steady, she lifted the gun, pointed it at Marcus’s head and fired.

  A light flashed, and his skull disintegrated.

  Unlike with Dionne, she had no remorse. Keeping Marcus alive, even in his skeletal form, was too great a threat.

  And when Theron’s life and the fate of her people were at risk, she didn’t have to second-guess her decision.

  Zoe dropped the obliterator to the floor and picked up the key. She unlocked the cage, followed by the golden chains, releasing Theron from his prison.

  He smiled down at her. Doing his best not to hurt her any further, he carefully wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “After all that, I didn’t think it was possible, but I love you even more.”

  She smiled a watery smile and kissed him over and over again, so grateful that at the end of all this, he was still alive, she was still here and their love was still intact.

  Peering up into his green eyes, she saw him in a different light. Within him was enormous potential to cause harm, ancient dark powers.

  And as she saw today, darkness dwelled inside her too.

  Perhaps that was how it was for every living human and god. Within everyone was the potential to do bad, but what separated the majority from those that were evil was a respect for life, a strength and confidence in one’s own character, and knowing when to do what was necessary to protect the greater good.

  Sometimes good people had to do bad things in order to survive.

  Now Zoe had to find a way to reconcile those two distinct parts of herself in order to move on from this.

  Chapter 51

  Before Theron and Zoe headed back to Olympus, they set fire to the lab, alchemy book, immortality elixir, and all.

  Neither of them was willing to drink the potion. The risks were too great. Perhaps that was the real reason Zoe’s father and great grandfather hadn’t either.

  All the indestructible weapons, including the obliterator, were locked in an inaccessible vault and buried well below The Underworld, below Tartarus, deeper than the deep. The stash was covered by fire that would rage for eternity, hotter than lava. Anyone who attempted to recover them would burn trying.

  No more risks would be taken.

  After this, Zoe lay in her bed for many weeks. As her bones and wounds healed, she self-destructed.

  Her body violently trembled as she replayed the moment she stole Dionne’s soul.

  Her inner essence shone less brightly now. She had tainted the fundamental part of herself that made her the goddess she had been.

  Each night, Theron would lay beside her and pull her into his arms. He stroked the hair from her face. And despite herself, having Theron’s big warm body beside her, his soul loving her, she floated with the relief that it was not him she was mourning.

  They were the hardest two emotions to reconcile—relief and guilt.

  Bones threaded themselves right, and Zoe was finally able to get out of bed. And in time, she could move around with ease.

  One morning, after a long sleepless night, Zoe went to Theron as he sat in his ebony thrown in the sitting room. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  Theron smiled as he stood and gripped her hand. His touch was all she needed. His love was what she craved. She could never live without either.

  They strolled across the slatted bridge between their home and the The Underworld gates and stopped halfway. Zoe held the thin rail and looked below at the green fields. The Underworld, despite its reputation, was truly stunning.

  When she raised her gaze to Theron, she had tears in her eyes. “I vowed to never commit an act of violence.”

  Theron nodded but remained silent, intuitively knowing what she had to say simply needed to be said without interruption, no matter how long it took for her to say it.

  “For a while there, I didn’t think I’d recover from what I did. I lost myself. I become someone else. But, I’m okay with that. I’m okay that my past has changed the goddess I am now because life does change people. But it doesn’t dictate if I am still good or loving. Only I can choose to be that. And I do. Nothing will take that away from me.”

  She squeezed harder on the rail and looked down at the lush hills below and out to the rippling rivers that encircled The Underworld. “What I’ve done won’t define me negatively. I won’t let it. But I will allow it to give me a renewed perspective that what we are doing here in Olympus is right, and it is just. And I know now, more than ever, that I want all this to continue into the future with all the beauty we have worked hard at creating.”

  Zoe wiped a tear from her cheek. “And I’ve forgiven myself. Do you want to know why?” she asked, not taking her eyes from the landscape beneath her feet.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Zoe inclined her face and gazed at the man she loved more than anyone who had ever existed. “If I had done nothing and let Dionne or Marcus kill you, or wipe out the people of Earth, I would never have been able to forgive myself. Ever. I can live with sacrificing Dionne and Marcus, and breaking my oath if it means you and our family on Earth stay safe.”

  Theron smiled warmly and pulled her to his chest. He kissed the top of her head. “I’m so proud of you, Zoe. You are the strongest goddess I know.”

  “I love you, so very much.”

  He kissed her again. “And I love you. I always have and I always will. Forever. Human. God. I will always love you.”

  She lifted onto her toes and kissed him deeply. Since arriving home, she hadn’t had a moment of intimacy and being in his arms now, she craved his touch, his kiss.

  “So what do we do now?” she asked.

  “We go on with our life. We make Olympus as great as it can be. We continue to protect Earth. We do our duties. We stay strong. We continue to live in peace.”

  Zoe sat down on the slatted bridge and let her feet dangle over the edge. Theron sat beside her. She inhaled deeply, eyes closed, taking in a renewing breath, then stared out at the world below.

  The Underworld and all of Olympus belonged to her and Theron. Now marked the first day of her new life.

  Theron turned to face her and gently ran his thumb over her cheek. “You will always be the Goddess of my Heart and Soul, Zoe.”

  Zoe nestled against his warm touch. Her body sighed, leaned closer. Now that she could, once again, accept herself—though a different person, she was a better person—Zoe was able to open her heart and receive all of Theron’s love. And give him all the love she had in return. This god was her world. This god was the reason she had stolen lives.

  And his love was what rescued her from the dark abyss and breathed life into her once again. The
ir love was life and peace and everything she ever needed.

  Life was not memories. Life was love.

  Theron’s fingers drifted to rest at the hair at her nape. Flickers of sensation worked through her body, arousing a desire that had remained dormant since arriving back in Olympus. But she allowed it to blossom now.

  When his lips met hers, she sighed. She had missed this, the intimacy of Theron’s touch. He rested his forehead against hers with his eyes closed. They stayed like that, breathing each other in.

  After a long moment, he gazed into her eyes. “I think we need to spend some time, a lot of time, making up for lost moments.”

  Zoe read between the lines and giggled. “I think so too.”

  Theron pulled her onto his lap and cradled her in his arms as he stood. “You’re my captive, Zoe, Goddess of my Heart and Soul,” he said as he carried her across the bridge, back to their home.

  This possessiveness of Theron’s, another trait inherited from Hades, was something she was going to have to work on. But for the time being, she couldn’t see a reason to.

  She draped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. “A willing captive.”