The Korinniad

by A. K. Caggiano

  “Uh.” Nikeros placed the book and ink onto his desk and sauntered to the far side of the room. “I am not sure I can properly explain, especially as I am not a god.”

  Korinna pushed herself up onto her elbows to see him flipping over a portrait hung on his wall. She’d already seen the half-naked siren on it and rolled her eyes. “Well, demigod then—whatever the difference is.”

  “If I tell you, will you agree that we can leave?”

  “Maybe.” She giggled again into the pillow. This time it did not feel so strange to her, as was the intention of Aphrodite’s ambiance.

  Nikeros cleared his throat, his hands behind his back. “Demigods are the offspring of the gods, sometimes with one another, sometimes alone, sometimes with mortals. Not all demigods are blessed with godlike powers, and not all demigods are capable of properly using those powers.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Korinna yawned, laying back again. “I mean, what’s it like not having to deal with stupid, mortal minotaurshit?”

  Nikeros chuckled, “I can assure you there is plenty of divine minotaur—you know.”

  “Niko,” she sighed, “You can say shit. It’s all right.”

  “I will keep that in mind. Now, we need to get going. Hermes will be back for us shortly.”

  “No, come on.” She crawled to the end of the bed and sat on her knees, pouting. If she could have seen herself, she would have been disgusted, but clouded by the enchantment of the palace, she bat her eyelashes at him. “Show me what you do all day when you’re not shooting people.”

  He staggered back into the wall then tried to lean casually against it. “I don’t shoot people.”

  “Hey!” She pointed at him, her jaw dropping open.

  “What?”

  “Don’t! Instead of, like,”—she put on her best imitation of him, stuffing up her voice and nodding her head back and forth—“Petty mortal, I certainly do not refer to my profession as shooting, blah, blah, blah.”

  “I do not know of what you are speaking.”

  She fell back onto the bed once more. “Drop the fancy-talk, flyboy, just be yourself.” She poked at another of the books on the table beside his bed. “You sound like a dummy when you talk that way.”

  He was quiet a moment. “Really? I thought it was more impressive.”

  She laughed and yawned again. “I do not think so.”

  He made an indiscriminate noise in the back of his throat.

  “I mean, your mom’s an Olympian, that’s impressive enough all on its own. I’ve never thought much about the gods, but that’s gotta be cool, right?” Korinna folded her hands over her stomach and let her eyelids drift down.

  She could hear Nikeros shuffle about at the foot of the bed. He cleared his throat. “Well, she didn’t raise me, if that’s what you’re asking. I wasn’t a thoughtform like Athena or born to age very quickly like some of my brothers. I’ve aged like a mortal, so I lived with my father until I was old enough to go to the academy and fulfill my true purpose.”

  “Oh, so you’re not, like, actually super old or anything?”

  “Mortal, do I—” He stopped, then sighed, “Korinna, do I look super old?”

  She lifted up her head and her gaze wandered over his sturdy jaw, his toned arms, the bit of his chest that peaked out from his tunic, then she dropped her head back down and snapped her eyes shut again. No, he absolutely did not look super old, but the thought she’d just had certainly couldn’t be spoken aloud, so instead she changed the subject. “I wish I had a true purpose.”

  “Oh, but you do.”

  “If you say something about finding my true love, I swear on your mom, I’ll…” Korinna thought hard about how she might threaten the demigod. Ripping off his wings seemed a bit too severe, and punching him seemed a waste of a perfectly good face. Maybe she’d jab him with one of his own arrows and make him fall for a sheep or a tree, but if the enchantment lasted forever that also seemed like a waste. Try as she might, Korinna could not come up with a single cutting threat appropriate for the man, and before she knew it, she wasn’t thinking about anything at all.

  CHAPTER XV

  Korinna’s eyes were bleary when she tried to open them, so she didn’t try very hard. The bed was too comfortable to be real and the chamber too homey to be any place she truly belonged, so she rolled onto her side and curled into a ball. It was a nice dream, and she wanted it to last.

  “Boy, Nikeros sure screwed this one up.”

  Korinna gasped—that voice had been real—and she sat upright.

  “I’d say I’m not surprised, but I actually am.” Standing at the bedside was a tall, blond man, arms cross, smirking down at her.

  “Who,” she stammered, scurrying back against the headboard, “Who are you?” Then she saw the other two, and the shock scared any lingering sleepiness away. “All of you?”

  “We might ask you the very same, Mortal.” Mortal. Of course, the fiery-haired man standing at the other side of the bed was a demigod, who else would be at Aphrodite’s palace?

  Her heartbeat quickened. “Where’s Niko?”

  “Oh, it’s Niko is it?” The third man lounging at the foot of the bed winked when they made eye contact.

  Korinna pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. It seemed whatever had made her feel comfortable enough to fall asleep here in the first place had worn off. The ginger demigod smiled kindly at her, his freckled cheeks warm and inviting. “My name is Potheros, and these are my brothers, Anteros and Himneros.”

  “More Erotes,” she said quietly to herself. Hadn’t one been enough?

  At the foot of the bed, Himneros stared her down with obsidian eyes and a wicked grin. “And what exactly are you doing here? Or were you doing?”

  Korinna felt her cheeks burn despite being guilty of nothing. “Sleeping,” she told them quickly, and they all laughed in their own way.

  “You’re Nikeros’s charge, aren’t you? Carmen?” Anteros cocked his head. She didn’t like the look of him. Not that he wasn’t brilliantly handsome, but his smile seemed to say mischief, and not the good kind.

  “Korinna,” she corrected him.

  “Right.” He ran a hand through his short hair in a way that told her he didn’t really care. “So how’s it going then?”

  She cleared her throat and tried to sit up. He was challenging her, somehow, and she wasn’t about to lose. “Fine.”

  “That means awful.” Himneros was quick to cut in. “As if there were any other way for it to go.”

  Korinna felt heat on the back of her neck, and she leaned toward him on the bed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” They didn’t even know her, how could they have any idea if she was bound to muck things up or not? “I’m doing my best.”

  “Are you?” Himneros took the invitation she didn’t realize she’d given and began climbing toward her. “Prove it.”

  “Oh, honey, it’s not you.” Potheros put his arm out to stop Himneros.

  She couldn’t tell what he meant and looked from one demigod to another, but they only smirked back. Finally Anteros sighed, “So how’d you end up here and not wrapt in the arms of your earthwhile lover?”

  Korinna pursed her lips. “Well, it’s complicated.”

  “Hopefully not too complicated.” Anteros rolled his eyes, a bright blue like Nikeros’s, but distinct, colder, dangerous. “Nik can’t mess this up, you’re his last chance.”

  “I thought that little Athenian girl was his last chance?” Himneros cut in.

  Anteros chuckled, “The one who ended up killing her adelphi psychi?”

  “Mother said that was fated, and there wasn’t anything he could do,” Potheros was quick to say, “Still—”

  “What do you mean last chance?” Korinna shouted over them, and they all stopped to look at her. She regretted it immediately.

  Potheros was hesitant. “Our dear brother has…how can I say this delicately?”

  “He screws up,” Anteros said, “A lot
.”

  “Like every charge he gets.” Himneros was openly laughing now. “No happy endings with that one.”

  “Aphrodite is giving him one more opportunity to swing things back around, and that’s you.” Anteros poked her in the shoulder. Korinna felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. “We don’t have great expectations, no offense.”

  “It’s just that he’s half mortal, so he’s not really cut out for this.” Himneros displaced the foot of the bed as he crawled toward her again. “I, on the other hand, have been blessed with the blood of two gods, and am more than willing to help.”

  Korinna slipped around Potheros and slid off the bed in one quick movement that seemed to surprise them all. She straightened her chiton and cleared her throat. “Nikeros is Aphrodite’s son, right?”

  They all gave her half-hearted nods, and Anteros shrugged. “But Ares isn’t his father.”

  “I’ve met Ares.” Korinna rolled her eyes as she backed towards the door. “Nikeros is probably better off.”

  “Don’t fool yourself, Mortal.” Himneros followed her, an eyebrow cocked. “War is an integral part of love.” His dark features were probably the most attractive, though the competition was narrow—all three of them were ridiculously gorgeous—but the closer he got, the more uncomfortable she felt. And he was very close now.

  “That doesn’t sound right.”

  “You may want to consider the help,” Potheros suggested lightly as he joined his brother.

  “Yeah, Nik’s been giving us all a bad name.” Anteros was suddenly at her side as well.

  “Um, well.” Korinna tripped over herself as she took another blind step backward. She couldn’t tell what they meant by help, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out. She felt behind her for the doorway and grabbed the frame. “I appreciate it, but—”

  “What are you doing?”

  Never had Korinna been so happy to hear Nikeros speak. She spun toward him. “I was just—”

  “Not you.” His voice was flat as he cut her off, his face devoid of its characteristic grin, his blue eyes set on his brothers darkly. “You three.”

  Himneros chuckled, “We’re just getting to know your last,”—Potheros elbowed him and he jumped—“latest charge.”

  “Her name is Korinna, and she has a lot of work to do, so if you’ll excuse us.” Nikeros grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her out into the hall. She was practically tripping with how quickly they walked away, the voices of the three calling goodbyes and good lucks after her. “What did they say to you?” he asked when they started down the stairs.

  Korinna’s mind raced. It wouldn’t be helpful if he knew, she thought. “Nothing.”

  Nikeros stopped mid step, and she found herself suspended beside him, waiting. His eyes were studying her face intently, she gave him a toothy smile, and he sighed, “Well, come on, we’re already late.”

  Hermes had been napping out in his cart, to Korinna’s surprise, but had assured her that Aphrodite was making his services worthwhile. Korinna chowed down on the cheese and bread Nikeros had apparently been off wrangling up for her as they took flight once again and headed for Theopopolis’s heart.

  The Erote was quiet, and Korinna didn’t needle him about what lay ahead, but she did watch him more closely. His face betrayed a heaviness she hadn’t noticed before, and it tugged at something inside her. It was a something Korinna hadn’t really bothered to access before as it held little use to her, though she’d experimented with the edges of it a few times when Daphne or Simone were looking particularly somber. It was usually frightening, and always uncomfortable. But now, something pushed her toward exploring it. Whatever it actually was.

  After the rams made another abrupt but smooth enough landing in a secluded area behind a large building, Korinna was not as quick to exit the cart. Instead, she watched Nikeros as he stepped down, his brow still furrowed in silent contention. This time, Korinna properly thanked the god after hopping out, even giving the snake a little pat on his head, and then followed Nikeros around to the main streets.

  The market of Theopopolis was laid out before them, a berth of tumult and excitement. From the alleyway, they could scarcely see above the sea of heads passing before them with hurried steps, but the sounds of the city rose up nonetheless: merchants hawking their goods, villagers bartering back, children squealing with laughter, oxen bells and donkey brays. Korinna felt like a bubbling stew pot. Never had she seen so many people, smelled so many strange scents, been surrounded by so much life.

  “We must get to the harbor.” Nikeros’s voice was still dismal as he strode out into the throng of patrons. Korinna followed closely behind, her eyes darting about at the flashes of colorful materials, bright fruits, and oil jars. The sun reflected in the metals of delicate jewelry worn around necks and wrists, and over-encumbered baskets riding on skilled traders’ heads blotted it out, but Nikeros saw none of it, his eyes set only on the task at hand as he led them down a path that cut straight to the docks.

  “Wait.” Korinna grabbed his shoulder, and he stopped to look back at her. He wasn’t smiling this time. She didn’t like that. “If we’re already late, we may as well take the long way around, right?”

  He screwed up his face. No, of course that didn’t make any sense to him.

  She pulled the coins she’d snagged in Ares’s tunnels from the opportune pocket Athena had blessed her with, holding them up and grinning. “Let me buy you a drink.”

  “I do not need a drink,” he told her, covering her hand and looking about nervously at the crowd.

  “Yes, you do! I might not be able to read, but I saw all those books and things—you spend all your time studying. You need to have some fun!”

  His face changed then, and he grabbed her arms, pulling her to the side. She nearly fell, but he kept her upright, a massive cart passing right where they had just been standing.

  She blew out a long breath. “See, now I just owe you.” The Erote was considering it, she could see his face softening, and so she leaned in a little closer to him and whispered, “You deserve it.”

  Nikeros opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead he took a step back from her and cleared his throat. “I guess, at this point, it couldn’t really hurt.”

  CHAPTER XVI

  “Yes!” Korinna could not contain her excitement as she whirled away from the street leading directly down to the harbor and instead set her sights at the top of the hill where the vendor carts were packed the most tightly together. It certainly helped that bringing Nikeros out of his funk aligned with getting what she wanted. She reached back and blindly grabbed his hand, pulling him up the street.

  At the crest of the hill, the road spilled out onto a cobble-stoned space that spread as wide as Zafolas’s temple beside itself, ringed with columns and statues depicting deities and heroic feats in white, shining stone. Carts squeezed in beside one another beneath makeshift awnings of brightly dyed canvas, the spaces between them filled with bodies of peasants and royals alike, shuffling from wagon to wagon. The air smelled of hot spices and searing meats, and Korinna found herself rooted to the ground, trying to take it all in.

  “Are you all right?”

  Korinna nodded then grinned at him, and he returned the look. It was working. “Let’s get you that drink!”

  Nikeros declined again, mumbling something about not holding his wine so well, and instead the two wound their way through the carts. Korinna sniffed and touched everything, amazed at the soft tapestries, the floral teas, and the fine silks. She could see Nikeros’s mood improving with each quip she made about how Ares might look good in the most feminine, sapphire chiton she could find or how the Theopopian archers could benefit from the spyglasses lined up on another merchant’s cart. By midday he’d returned to what Korinna would consider normal (that big, dumb grin), but she’d also successfully distracted him from the task at hand.

  Helios was bearing down on them, and the townsfolk were getting a bit more aggressi
ve in the heat, so when Korinna spied a heavily shaded alley, she pulled Nikeros down it. The path was narrow, with tall buildings on either side, and had been appropriated by a vendor selling lanterns and pipes. Above them, thick cords ran from wall to wall, strung with colored glass lamps that cast rainbows on the floor around them, disorienting but beautiful. Korinna slowed for the first time that day in the dazzling space. The bustling crowds beyond the alley were blocked out by soft pan flute music drifting from one of the widows above them.

  Only a few other patrons roamed the alley, speaking in hushed tones and keeping to the shadows, but Korinna walked down the center of the place, watching the colors play over her arms as she went. “It’s so pretty,” she said, turning back. Nikeros stood at the alley’s entrance, ducking in under the lowest lanterns. He was carefully following after her in the cramped space, but still managed to knock his head on a lamp with a hollow thunk. Korinna giggled as he rubbed at his temple. “Maybe you’d be better off as a mouse or something in here,” she whispered, going to him.

  A cat darted out from a set of barrels then, scurrying behind Korinna and making her jump so that she bumped right into him.

  “Or not.” He chuckled and took his hand away from the spot. It was already turning red.

  Korinna distracted herself from her embarrassment by focusing on the lump that had begun to form on his head. “I didn’t know demigods were so sensitive.” She pressed her thumb into the red spot.

  “Ow!” He recoiled and slapped a hand over the bump again. “Why would you do that?”

  “I don’t know!” She waved her hands about frantically. “I’m sorry!” Korinna peeled his hand up, gently this time, and bit her lip. “I guess I just thought your body would be different.”

  “Well, it’s not.”

  Korinna wanted to quip about how there were clear differences, like the wings he was now hiding and how he could completely change his anatomy at any moment, but then she remembered what his brothers had said: Nikeros was half mortal. That meant he was in more trouble back in the cave with The Thing than she had realized. He was at least a little human, and humans could get hurt. She asked sincerely this time, “Are you okay?”