by James Hunter
I stuck a moss-covered hunk of dry wood into the firebox, listening halfheartedly to my Rune-Caster. My mind flashed back to the ambush as I watched the flames eat away at the log, tongues of orange and red flicking up over the damp bark. If only we hadn’t been so beat up. If only Antiope hadn’t stolen the Vambraces of Boreas. If only the Gorgon and her minions had struck sooner. So many variables, and if any one of them had been different, then maybe Sabra would be alive, and we’d still have the fucking Sower’s Glass.
Should I have engaged Necro Earl right away? If I’d destroyed the necromancer, his undead army would’ve gone back to decaying in peace. I thought again of the big hourglass we’d pulled from Entomo’s guts. We’d had it, we’d won, and yet Antiope had grabbed it. I did take some grim satisfaction knowing that the last of the Gorgon sisters had snagged it away from Necro Earl. Seriously. Fuck that guy.
“Why call it the Sower’s Glass?” I mumbled, still staring at the dancing firelight.
“That’s an easy one,” Phoebe said with a nervous grin. “See back in the day, Cronus was also known as the Sower—as in the Sower of Seed. He and his wife, Rhea, were originally agricultural deities, which I guess made sense, since time grows crops. According to legend, ol’ Cronus used the glass to change the seasons and manipulate time. But after he was banished here”—she waved a hand around—“by Zeus, he secreted the glass away with Entomo so that its power could never be used by the unworthy.”
“Why Entomo?” I asked absently, picking up another twig and tossing it into the fire. “It’s hard for me to believe that buggy freakshow has any friends with less than one million legs.”
She snorted, a lopsided grin turning up the corner of her lips. “Believe it or not, but Entomo and Cronus are brothers. Both children of Gaea. So it’s a family thing.”
I grimaced. “I’m guessing they had different fathers, unless Cronus looks wayyyyy different than I’m thinking.” I fell silent for a moment, but then Antiope’s face slipped into my thoughts again.
“Man, I really feel like I screwed the pooch, Phoebe. I mean, fuck! The Sower’s Glass was in our hands!” I stood up and instantly wanted to kill something. The godstone liked that idea. I was sure if I took a few steps I could find a dinomythic and hack it apart ... “I suppose I should be mad at Euryale,” I said, “but I knew we could never trust that snake charmer. Darling this and darling that. Whatever. But what really gets me is Earl. He’s been a thorn in my side since I met him. I figured I’d escape his assholeishness when I landed here, but guess what? Nope!”
“Assholeishness is not a word,” Phoebe said, frowning. “Jacob, there’s something I want to talk to you about. And after what happened with Sabra, I feel like it cannot wait.”
I stomped across the small spit of dry ground under the cypress trees, storming around in frustration, ignoring her. “If we go home without the Cyrstal Scythe, then what was the point of this? Plus, there’s no guarantee that Earl won’t show up and take the Sower’s Glass from the Gorgon. And remember, we have fucking monsters attacking Lycastia City every eight hours.
“It’ll only be a matter of time until they break through our defenses and shatter the sigil. Then, guess what? Hell on Earth. The gates to the underworld will be flung open and humanity will be in real trouble. Fucking Hades, and his fucking torture, and I can’t imagine what he did to Antiope to turn her against us. And he might be able to do the same thing to Sabra. That fucker. That motherfucker!”
I whipped the War Blade out of its sheath. The godstone flashed as did the sword, and both sent night creatures in the water around us swimming for their lives. I drove the lightning-wreathed weapon into the trunk of a dead cypress, lodging the blade in the trunk. I stewed for a second, imaging Earl’s stupid face, before jerking the sword free, ready to take another swing. I raised the blade high—
Which is when Phoebe tackled me, her arms wrapping around my hips, her shoulder driving into my gut.
I hadn’t been ready for the hit and abruptly found myself on the ground with her on top of me. It was so unexpected that I dropped the War Blade completely. Without my fingers around the pommel, it dimmed.
Her face glowed from the pulsating gem in my chest.
She grabbed my head in both of her hands and squished my cheeks. “Jacob, there is something I want to speak to you about. Talk to you … about … me, you, us, talking.” She worked my mouth to mimic speaking. “Talking with like words and shit. So pay attention, you knucklehead.”
I glanced to the side, to make sure nothing was creeping up on us. I had created a spectacle with my outburst, and yet, the godstone had loved the violence and anger. Now, it was feeling something else.
“Look at me, Jacob,” Phoebe said. “I know you’re upset. I know that you’re grieving Antiope and worried about Sabra. But, listen, we’re going to be okay, Jacob. And there’s nothing you can do about any of that stuff anyway—not right now—so put them from your mind and look at me.” She turned my head to face her. “Really look at me.” She faltered, unshed tears lining the edge of her eyes. “Please, Jacob. This is important.”
I did. She was so cute. She radiated that girl-next-door vibe with her brown hair, gray-green eyes, and easy smile. From the very start, she’d been my type: pretty, funny, smart as a whip.
“Okay, Phoebe,” I said, feeling a deep ache in my heart as I stared into her face. “I’m here, and I’m looking at you. What’s up?”
“After Sabra died, so sudden and final, I decided that if I got a chance, I would tell you about how I feel. It’s just … Well, life, I guess.” She shrugged one shoulder. “It seems so fragile, so quick to slip away. And then I remembered how Ariadne came to you and asked for more power.” Her voice was jittery with nerves, which was so unlike her. She took her hands from my face—they trembled just a hair—and planted them firmly on my chest.
“You said something to me after talking with her,” she continued after a beat. “Something that stuck in my head—honestly, I haven’t been able to get rid of it. You said, ‘It pays to be bold enough to know what you want and go after it.’ I’ll never forget that.” She paused, pressed her eyes shut, and bit on her lower lip as though she were fighting to keep the words in. After a heartbeat she opened her eyes and sighed. “This is hard for me, Jacob, but I need to say something. I can’t live with myself if I don’t. See the thing is, I’ve been thinking about us. You and me. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
I was speechless. I was also more nervous than I’d been in a long time. Things were so natural with Phoebe—so right—and out of all my Amazons, she was the one I connected the deepest with. Sure, Asteria was incredibly gorgeous and totally wild … she was beauty and lust made manifest … but what we had could barely qualify as a relationship. A word seemed to float into my mind, provided by the godstone, of all things. She was my Eros. My sexual passion. And Loxo, as amazing as she was, also fell into that category.
Truthfully, I sort of thought I was Loxo’s booty call. Another word surfaced. Ludus, playful love.
True, I had complicated feelings about Myrina—feelings I still hadn’t quite worked out yet—but Phoebe? Her I understood.
She was my best friend on Lycastia. She got me in a way the other Amazons didn’t. I’d thought about being with her on more than once occasion, but she’d never seemed particularly interested in me. At least not in that way.
She dropped her eyes. “Look, Jacob. I know I’m not perfect.” She trailed her fingers along her damaged leg. “I mean, you’re on an island of perfect 10s who all want to be with you, and me? I’ll never be able to compete against them, which is why I’ve never tried. I’m never going to be as capable as Myrina, as graceful as Loxo, or as beautiful as Asteria. And to make everything worse, you have like Oedipal-sized issues when it comes to sex. But I can’t die without saying this first …” She went quiet, those unshed tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks.
I was about to say something when she beat me to
it, her face transformed by sheer determination. “I want you. I’d given up on us being together, and I figured Asteria and you were fine as a couple, but then you brought Loxo in, and I was all like, ‘Fuck that guy. If he’s getting with other Amazons, he’s going to get with me.’ So, I’m going to be bold. I’m going after what I want even if I’m hideous.” She jabbed me in the chest with one finger. “And you, Jacob, are what I want.”
Anger raged through me, and I easily pulled Phoebe off me. In a flash, she was on her back and I loomed over her. She might be brilliant, but I was a helluva lot stronger. The godstone lit up her gorgeous face. “Listen to me, Phoebe. I feel terrible about your leg. It was my fault. But I don’t care about it. Not the way you think. You look at me and see this chiseled god, but I wasn’t always this way.
“In high school I was a loser. And then I joined the Marine Corps, thinking that would make me a badass, but nope. I was just a loser in dress blues. Still a social reject. I know what it’s like to be overlooked, to be the outsider, and it sucks. But that makes me like you even more. You’re my friend. Always have been. Always will be.” I hesitated. “I love you, Phoebe.” As I spoke the words, I knew they were true.
But I also knew the love I had for her wasn’t like Asteria, Loxo, or Myrina. No, the love I felt for her was different. Philia, the godstone suggested. The deep, true love of friends who could finish each other’s sentences. Who had fought and bled together. Who understood each other more than anyone else ever could.
Tears shone in her eyes. “I love you too, my dude. And it’s not just because it was in the blueprints you used to forge me. No, it’s more.” She reached up and ran her hand over my cheek and down to my chin. “I’ve gotten to know the real you, how caring, how sweet, and how brave you are.”
“Almost as brave as you,” I whispered.
“Shut up and kiss me already, you dope,” she said as the tears finally slid out of her eyes.
And kiss her I did. In a whirl of limbs and clothes, we found ourselves naked, back by the mech and bathed in the heat and light of the fire. I made sure I lavished her leg with attention to show her that even though she wasn’t perfect, I didn’t care. That her imperfections made her special to me.
And when we finished—as I held her tight, gasping and laughing—I knew that I had to be better, smarter, stronger. I now knew why Myrina worried over me so much. She loved me like I loved Phoebe, and I swore nothing would ever, ever hurt my Rune-Caster as long as I had breath in my lungs and a heart beating in my chest. Suddenly, I wasn’t so much interested in saving the world. I wanted to save Phoebe. I wanted to keep her safe.
And for that? I needed the Crystal Scythe.
It wouldn’t be easy, of course. We’d have to cross a swamp of dinosaurs and monsters, kill my nemesis, and face a Titan-God, but that didn’t seem so hard. Not in that perfect moment. After all, Phoebe and I were bold and brave, and just then, it seemed like no task was too great for us to accomplish. Not if we were together.
We should’ve posted a watch—the swamp was filled with nasty things no doubt looking for a midnight snack—but somehow, we both slipped into sleep, snuggled together, our limbs entwined, her face pressed against my chest.
We slept that way for a few hours and stirred as the first rays of reflected sunlight hit the crystal clusters high above and washed over us. We had a quick breakfast of cheese and olives—that Hestia’s Bowl was already paying some big dividends—then set to work repairing the mech. Not only did we fix the broken crossbow, we also used salvaged bronze to give the mech segmented spider-like legs. Now, when I say “we” I really mean “she.” I basically stood around and watched, a giant smile carved into my face as I dreamily thought of the night before.
As wild as my threesome with Asteria and Loxo had been … Well, it hadn’t held a candle to my time with Phoebe. Last night had been damned near a revelation.
Phoebe’s leveling up had increased her supply of Poniriá, the mystical energy she used for her engineering. She was able to shape the metal with her hands and fit it into the wood perfectly. Soon, we were tromping through the swamp water like a steam-powered daddy longlegs. And if we came to an especially deep part of the water, she simply adjusted the mechanical legs and we jacked up higher. She had levers she could pull to widen the frog-feet she’d put on the legs, which prevented us from sinking into the mud.
We were doing well until we came to a muddy ridge where a herd of the dinomythical stegosaurs and triceratopses were chomping on grass.
To the right and the left, the swamp water got seriously deep. The only way to get through was to take on the dinomythics head-on.
And for that, we needed a plan.
Luckily, I was with Phoebe, the smartest of the Amazons, and the one that I loved the most.
TWENTY-SIX
Out of Time
Phoebe and I crouched in the mud of the bank across from the ridge. We were hidden behind drooping lengths of moss hanging off a cypress tree, watching as the dinomythics ate the swamp grass above. My Rune-Caster had lowered her mech so it sat just above the waterline, nearly invisible and completely motionless. The dinomythics hadn’t noticed us yet, which was exactly how I wanted to keep it for the time being.
Above us, the emerald-colored plates on the backs of the stegosaurs caught the glint of morning light. Though the lumbering beasts looked relatively harmless, we knew from personal experience those plates powered their green-lightning breath. The triceratopses, likewise, seemed normal, but they could turn those massive horns of theirs into ballistae bolts at a moment’s notice and regrow new projectiles in a matter of seconds.
About as deadly as they came, though there were only a half dozen of the creatures—three lightning breathers, three horn-heads.
“Thoughts?” I croaked in a low whisper, never taking my eyes off the dinosaurs. The last thing I wanted was to glance away, only to be caught up in some sort of dino-stampede.
Phoebe turned to me and shrugged. “How about we play it straight up, huh? You go in there and wipe them out. I’ll slip up along the tree line just a bit, hit ’em hard from the side, and chop up the leftovers with my buzz saw.”
I thought my jaw was going to hit the floor. “Really?” I was surprised that her big plan to get past the dinomythics was for me to barrel into them like a divine battering ram.
“Hells yeah,” Phoebe replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “You gotta remember, Jacob. I’m not like Myrina. I don’t think you need to be coddled like some little baby. I’ve seen what you can do, and this?” She waved a hand at the dinos. “This you could handle blindfolded and hog-tied. Seriously, dude. You’re at full strength and these knuckleheads are ranged fighters. Get up close, and you should be able to cut through them without a second thought. And if they manage to fire on you …” She shrugged, clearly unconcerned. “Well, there’s an even money chance their pals will get caught in the crossfire. So, let’s just do the damned thing.”
I smiled, and the godstone flared up in approval.
Her words and her confidence—her genuine belief in my abilities—meant the world to me. And, moreover, she was right. After our night of rest and travel, I was up to my max of 451 Divine Essence Points and my Health was topped out at a sturdy 1010 points. If there was ever a time to go gonzo it was right then, and I felt the pressure of getting the fight over quickly. We had to get to the Temple of Cronus, get the Crystal Scythe, get back to Lycastia City, and resurrect Sabra before Hades got his dirty claws in her.
“Okay, let’s do this thing. You ready?”
“Born ready.” I couldn’t help but chuckle, since Amazons literally were born ready for battle.
I slipped into the murky, fetid water and glided to the riverbank, ripples spreading out behind me. Phoebe kept her mech low and used the line of tree cover on the banks to move south, unseen by the grazing monsters. I’d give her a second before I went charging up that ridge and put the hurtin’ on the dinomythics.
I counted
to ten under my breath, then rose, dripping swamp water, and padded forward in a low crouch.
As I moved on silent feet, I accessed my gaming menu and triggered both Defender and Fury. Defender would armor me up, granting me Steel Skin, and Fury would basically unleash Hulk-smash mode—improving my regeneration and attack damage the more I got hit. My Furious Defender combo, as I’d come to think of it, made me an almost invulnerable killing machine. Hurt me? Fine. I’d heal it back, then chop you into lots of itsy-bitsy pieces. And, best of all, it only cost me a very reasonable sixty Essence Points. A steal, considering what I was getting.
I drew the War Blade with a hiss. Both it and the godstone seemed to howl with delight.
Damn, but I’d grown addicted to battle.
My metal skin did not slow me down as I broke into a run, charging up the ridge and onto the grassy knoll. A trio of dinomythics spotted me and let out a roar of warning. In a heartbeat, all six creatures were gunning for me. Triceratopses fired long horns at me as the stegosaurs ignited their back plates, unleashing raw lightning from beaked maws. I juked left, dodging a horn as thick as my forearm. The stegosaur to my right wasn’t so quick, and took the bony spear right to the face, golden ichor spurting out as it died.
A green-tinged lightning bolt cracked through the air, but I dove into a blazing-fast barrel roll. The sizzling line of energy smacked into a triceratops, making it dance like it had been plugged into a light socket.
I gained my feet and wheeled around. While the beast was helpless and recovering from the brutal electrical attack, I plunged the War Blade behind the bronze ridge of its skull and through its throat. It slumped down, body sagging, blood leaking. Another tri-horned monster lunged, looking to spear me. The horns screeched off my metal skin. I drove my crackling blade into its chest and triggered Lightning Lance, searing its heart like a steak. Fried that sucker medium-well.