No Mortals Allowed

by Honey Beezleigh

  She couldn’t imagine what the sobbing boy’s family had done to get a child less than ten sent to be killed by the Minotaur. His sister, holding his hand was just this side of fully grown. Ariadne couldn’t imagine how Athens sent anyone at all. There wouldn’t even be bodies to send home. There never had been.

  Daedalus had been the one who to design and oversee the production of the labyrinth. He had felt responsible for the senseless tradegies taking place. So he had been the one to retrieve the pitiful remains, chancing an encounter with the hopefully sated Minotaur. Then he would bury them with coins so they could have speedy passage to the afterlife waiting on the other side of the river Styx.

  He did that for two sets of tributes, until he got caught doing so by the King’s personal guards. He had escaped the King’s personal savage beating alive, but would forever walk with a limp like his patron god.

  Seven years later, after the next batch of tributes died, Daedalus’s son and apprentice Icarus just buried the coins for them without any bodies. He did so with a brief prayer for their souls to cross the river Styx peacefully. It might not count without their bodies, but at least it was more than not trying anything at all.

  Perhaps the gods of the dead would have mercy on the souls of the dead tributes. Maybe they would grant them passage, despite the unorthodox method of payment.

  Shortly after that, Icarus died during his and Daedalus’s desperate flight from the country. His body had never been retrieved from the sea. Ariadne had followed his example and buried coins for Icarus to cross over with a prayer.

  There had been no tributes in the seven years since. If any of them heading into the Labyrinth died this night, there was no one left to bury coins. It would be a long hundred year wait on the banks of the Styx for passage to the peace of Asphodel Meadows.

  The tributes followed her silently, clinging to one another.

  The traps had been disabled, making their winding passage in the pitch darkness almost easy. “I thought there were traps in here?” Whispered one of the braver ones from behind Ariadne’s lead.

  “They were disabled for this night so that nothing interferes with the Minotaur’s hunt. A number of the previous group of sacrifices chose to commit suicide that way.” She was silent a moment, the memory of their bodies overwhelming her briefly. “That displeased King Minos.”

  Several of the sacrifices had a few choice words about that.

  “And you just lead people in to die horrifically?” A belligerent voice from the line spoke up as they approached the final wall. “How are you any better than him?”

  “I ran away to avoid doing just that.” Ariadne said tiredly. “I got caught. Notice me being in here with you rather than out there giving out directions? My father doesn’t like anyone.”

  The discontented murmuring went quiet after that, but Ariadne didn’t believe that meant it would be gone forever. Hopefully their obedience would last long enough for all of them to make it out of the labyrinth alive.

  “Now everyone take off your clothes.” She ordered when she found the notch in the wall she was looking for. The shrieks were more manly than feminine, which was amusing. “Unless one of you wants to stay behind and be minus an arm?” No one said anything, and Ariadne realized how strange her order was from their perspective. She explained, “I need something to trigger this trap. It will squeeze whatever is put in it and lift the wall, but only briefly and not very high so we will have to be fast.”

  “Here.” A girl handed her a wad of clothing. “I’m dedicating myself to Artemis after this shit. I don’t care if anyone sees me naked.”

  Hearing this, the rest of the male tributes hand Ariadne their clothes without grumbling. She made a large, compressed roll of clothes. “Ready?”

  She waited for their affirmative noises and shoves the bundle in the hole as hard as she could. The wall rumbled and began to lift, the full moon spilling light into the dark labyrinth as bright as day. The painfully young tributes sprung into action and rolled out under the grinding, slowly lifting wall. They go one after another in quick succession.

  When Ariadne was the only one left, she stopped pushing the bundle into the wall sconce and the wall slams down like a striking sword. She sighed, and pressed the back of her head against the stone wall. She began to shake with adrenaline and fear, sliding down until she was kneeling at the bottom of the wall. She caught her breath after a few minutes and then got up, wiping her tears away.

  Either Theseus would meet her back at the entrance, or she would follow the thread to him. If he was dead, she would steal the sword off his body and kill her way out. It was more likely that she would be killed, by either the Minotaur or the guards but she would try.

  ARIADNE was at the entrance only moments before the demigod Prince Theseus returned, carrying the Minotaur’s bull shaped head by the ear. Blood still dripped quickly from its mangled stump of a neck, pooling on the floor and hot against her bare feet. Some part of her brain whispered to her, ‘That’s your twin’. She brushed it aside, along with the angry accusing stare of the head.

  The rest of her was occupied by the fact Theseus dropped the head and pressed her against the wall, mouth once more on her. This time his hands were digging under her dress, dragging feverishly on her underclothes. She shoved him back.

  “There are guards!” She hissed, trying to cover her shaking. “They patrol to make sure no one escapes. If they catch you off guard like that, they’ll kill you.”

  This common sense seemed to cool his ardor. He nodded, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. “You’re right. Let’s get out of here.” He picked up the head as large as her torso one handed with apparent ease and brushed past her.

  Ariadne swallowed, closing her eyes at the thought of being alone on a ship with him and then took a breath and followed.

  Chapter 3

  ARIADNE HADN’T EVER really liked Phaedra before, but was quickly changing her mind. Her sister had managed to force her way onto the Athenian ship by sheer ego and ambition.

  “If there’s going to be a queen of Athens, it’s going to be me.” Phaedra sneered at her, tossing her silky hair over her shoulder.

  Ariadne quietly found a corner of the ship by the dozing tributes. She hunkered down by a coil of rope, hoping she was out of sight of Theseus.

  Phaedra moved up to the prince, cutting him the rest of the way out of Ariadne’s line of sight. “Oh, Theseus, you’re so brave!” She plastered herself against his torso, shooting a dirty look over her shoulder. When she didn’t see anyone, she buried her face in the bloody, dirty chest of a flattered looking Theseus.

  Mentally wishing them the best, Ariadne tried to sleep.

  THEY docked on an island in the middle of the night, tucking the ship into a hidden cove to hide from their pursuers. Dawn broke, pale light washing the long beach in pastels and soft edges.

  Ariadne disembarked onto the island to avoid being alone with Theseus, despite his apparent distraction with her sister. She helped gather fresh water with the sailors and ate breakfast with the tired men.

  The wine was terrible but their food was more than passable. She certainly wasn’t a master of making delicious wine, so tried not to judge them for the terrible tasting wine. It was better than what she had made and offered to Dionysus, after all.

  ARIADNE woke up with a hammer pounding the inside of her head, ears ringing with a sound she couldn’t place. She sat upright and almost fell over, ground lurching under her.

  Something was bothering her. What was it?

  It was too quiet. The sailors were loud, boisterous even when exhausted and talking excitedly about their brave, heroic Prince. No one was on the beach. Ariadne turned her head slowly, vision swimming. There was no boat, or ship either. The sea stretched in front of the beach, empty but for a distant storm on the water.

  It took several minutes for Ariadne to understand what had happened. They dumped her. They left her on the beach. She leaned back on the fishy smelling sa
nd, closing her eyes against the brightness of the sun.

  It was probably for the best, she told herself. Better than marrying Theseus and his octopus hands. She fell back asleep, sun baking heat into her like a blanket.

  ARIADNE dreamed of her lover. Lost lover now, she supposed. Not like Dionysus was going to hunt down a singular mortal two night stand, and finding gods was like finding a diamond on a beach. Possibly harder.

  But she dreamed of him. The way he cradled her head in his lap and brushed gentle hands over her face. He picked her up and carried her close to his chest for a long time, wind whipping her face that she couldn’t quite feel. It felt like they were going up, higher and higher into the sky.

  Maybe she would meet Icarus, she thought, then recalled he had fallen to his death and felt herself falling.

  ARIADNE woke with a start, sitting up before her mind was fully awake, the sensation of falling still tingling her nerves.

  “Whoa there, you’re safe now.” A dark man with an infinitely gentle demeanor got up from his desk, setting down his papers. He is dressed like a wealthy doctor, subtle but fine linens over broad shoulders.

  She glanced around the room. There was only a bed. The desk had vanished. The window showed only open cloudless sky despite it being rainy season soon. “Where am I?”

  “You’re on Olympus.” He told her, pulling up a chair next to her bed that hadn’t existed prior to that moment.

  Ariadne eyed him cautiously. “I’m listening.”

  “You believe me. Good.” The doctor looked relieved. “That will make things easier.” Ariadne didn’t tell him this place was so obviously other it was either a dwelling of the gods or the dead. “Right. You were brought here with an... shall we say advanced case of poisoning. Possibly accidental.” He added in a hopeful tone. His face fell at her pained expression.

  “Right, well, I cured the poisoning. You’ll be fine.” He finished deliberately cheerful, teeth almost bared.

  Ariadne went for the basics. “Why am I on Olympus?”

  He stared at her. She stared back. He coughed, breaking eye contact. “Your lover?” He offered gingerly, then nodded firmly. “Yes, you can ask your lover that.”

  Ariadne dearly hoped he meant Dionysus. If he meant the King of the gods she was jumping out of that window, painful stop or not. That fool was known to vaporize lovers on accident. Case in point, Dionysus’s mother.

  “When?” Ariadne prodded.

  “You don’t have any further questions?” He sounded plaintive.

  He had saved her life, she could be courteous even if she was desperately wondering what was going on. “What’s your name?”

  The god of doctors tells her his name. “Asclepius.”

  “Thank you.” She told him. “I appreciate not being dead. Or in horrible pain.” Asclepius practically glowed at the minimal praise. Emboldened, she went further. “Speaking of lovers, do you have anything to prevent pregnancy?”

  He blinked, reached into his robe and pulled out a bundle of tiny pills and handed it to her. “This is the mix for immortal couple’s contraceptives. Massive overkill for a mortal of course, but given you’re involved with a fertility deity it might be better to be safe than sorry. Side effects are permanent infertility after more than a month of use.” Asclepius informs her, tone brisk and professional. “Take one by mouth per day. You can chew, swallow or let it dissolve in your mouth, it won’t effect how it works.”

  “Permanent infertility.” Ariadne repeated. He nodded. She smiled, and tucked the bag into her dress pocket. “Awesome.”

  “I’m always happy to prevent unwanted children.” Asclepius told her with a proud smile.

  A man walked into the room and it was to her relief, actually Dionysus. “You’re awake!” He said as he flung himself on her, arms around her neck.

  She hugged him back, breathing in the scent of flowers and the faint tang of wine. They both stayed like that for a long while, reveling in the warmth and presence of each other. Asclepius coughed awkwardly and leaves the room, door closing with a quiet click.

  “You found me,” Ariadne breathed into his neck. “I didn’t think...” She rested her face into the curve of his shoulder.

  Dionysus pulled back to look at her. “You didn’t think what?” He asked, eyes green and faintly luminescent.

  “I didn’t think you would even look.” She admitted to him, amazed that he had. “I’m aware that I’m certainly only one of many lovers for you. I know we had fun-” She gave him a curious look, “I can’t imagine it was enough to stand out in any way for you.”

  Dionysus gave her a quirk of the lips that might’ve been a smile. “True. But you are my lover.” The wine god said possessively, settling in on top of her heavily. “Mine. Not some upstart little demigod’s wife.” he added, eyes narrowed in such a way to leave them looking sharp. The winged eyeliner certainly added to the impression.

  “My sister is the one you need to thank then. She was all over Theseus.” Ariadne grinned.

  Dionysus winced. “Your sister is the one that drugged the wine.”

  “Then the poisoning was definitely an accident. Phaedra is quite good at manipulating men, but not measuring and numbers by a long shot.” Ariadne told him with a snort.

  “A little bit is good and a lot is better?” Dionysus guessed and shook his head at her agreement.

  “Listen, Ariadne. Mortals aren’t allowed on Olympus.”

  Chapter 4

  HE CONTINUED, “ASCLEPIUS is a sucker for a mortal, so he won’t say anything. But I’ll need to disguise you.”

  Ariadne tilted her head to the side and smirked. “To get me off?”

  Dionysus leered at her. “I will definitely get you off. But I was thinking, if you're alright with wearing a disguise you could stay up here, with me.”

  Ariadne didn’t want to misunderstand that he was offering. “You mean to have sex?”

  He shrugged, flipping a hand back and forth. “That too. Have some fun together.”

  “I’d love to.” She smiled him, feeling shy. “I was going to go with the camp anyway, before I was caught.” Ariadne ran a hand through his long hair, curling it around a finger and gently tugging it. “Sticking closer to you is hardly a hardship.”

  The smile she received was blinding and she was suddenly pulled to her feet. “This is going to sting a bit.” Dionysus warned her before the sensation of bee stings covered her skin head to toe.

  She barely had time to yelp in pain before it stopped. Dionysus propped a materialized mirror in front of her. In the mirror a male satyr with her face wearing her dress looked back in shock. She had tiny curving horns sweeping back from her temples, and small horse ears almost lost in the fall of her hair. She twisted around and saw the tip of a horse tail is barely visible under the edge of her skirt.

  She looked down at herself and saw her normal self. “How does this work?”

  “Magic.” Dionysus told her solemnly before he cackled at her expression. “Nah, it just makes you look and feel like the image I constructed. To everyone but you, that is.”

  “Even you?” He nodded and she ventured to ask, “Why am I male?”

  “My maenads are lovely, lovely women but they are also mortal and thus utterly forbidden to be up here.” Dionysus pointed out with a brief sigh. “Satyrs are both male, immortal and generally found in my company. The perfect disguise.” He finished with relish, tweaking her tail and making her jump at the phantom sensation.

  She swatted his hand away from her tail. Then curiosity overwhelms her and she asked, cheeks heating, “How does this work for sex, if I’m the only one to see or touch my real self?”

  Dionysus smile widened to all teeth and large eyes narrowed hungrily and Ariadne feels herself grow warm. “I was hoping you would ask that.”

  DIONYSUS introduced her as Ampelos, his new companion. No one batted an eye at this or the fact the male satyr wore women’s clothes.

  No one really looked at her much at a
ll. Apparently, satyrs are below the give a shit threshold of the more powerful gods and the lesser ones trying to seem more powerful. Her lover on the other hand, was quite popular, and he dragged her everywhere with him.

  She heard one god tell another that ‘Ampelos’ was Dionysus’s newest accessory in front of her face. He held her tightly on the nights he was not passed out in another lover’s bed. Ariadne felt more like a teddy bear to be honest and liked it enough she was worried about when she would lose his attention eventually. All mortals were only temporary to the gods, a fact she saw reinforced the longer she was on Olympus.

  The sheer desperation in Dionysus’s frequently to tight sleeping hugs worried her. So she didn’t struggle to break free unless he was actually impeding her breathing. She tried stroking his hair and back gently, and that helped the fierceness of his grip.

  But what helped most of all, she learned by accident.

  “Did you have a nightmare?” Dionysus asked her, sleep slurring his speech as he petted her hair gently.

  “Yes.” Ariadne admitted, feeling her fingers dig into his flesh as she pulled him and his heat closer to her.

  He hummed and continued stroking her hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She did. She didn’t. “Maybe.” She conceded.

  He dragged his nails across her scalp and goosebumps ran down her arm. “That felt amazing. Do it again.” She ordered with a happy sigh.

  “Tell me about your nightmare.” Dionysus countered.

  Ariadne huffed, but conceded the head scratching was worth it. “Walked right into that. Fine.” She took a deep breath, “I dreamed Theseus got me pregnant. And that I died on that stupid island he abandoned me on giving birth to twins. Alone. In the dark. During a horrible storm.”