Quickly, she freed them both and pulled them in place. Her hands shook violently as she got their bridles, fit their harness, and attached them to their yokes. More than once the leather straps slipped from her grasp, or her fingers lacked the dexterity to work the buckles. Thoughts of Alex finding her here only added to her panic, but those fears never came.
Once Euryale managed to ready the chariot, she wasted not a moment climbing inside the carriage. A flick of the reins sent the ponies bolting out of the stables and then into the air.
She never looked back, not even when she heard the gods call to her.
* * *
Athena cringed, her grip tightening so hard on her spear that she nearly broke the shaft.
She knew that wail, and even if half of Olympus separated her from Euryale, she’d never mistake the sound of the gorgon’s cries. Those, however, were different than the lonely cries Euryale had once made on her island or the bursts of anger she’d always been infamous for. No, this time something horrifying struck Euryale’s soul, and as furious as Athena was over the Perseus affair, she feared something dreadful had happened to the gorgon’s children.
Athena shook her head to rid herself of the shriek lingering in her ears before racing out of her home. Her sandaled feet made long strides, picking up speed every second, and soon all of Olympus blurred. She bounded through the Asphodel Gardens, covering the three-hundred-yard width in less than a dozen heartbeats before effortlessly leaping over a wide stream. When she landed on the other side, another Olympian landed right next to her, one with bulging muscles, glistening sweat, and an elated war face everyone knew.
“Ha! I knew this day would come!” Ares roared. “Typhon has finally stopped cowering and sent war to our doorstep!”
Athena shook her head in disbelief, then scolded herself for doing so. It was always war with her brother. Always. But as the two broke into a run toward Alex’s and Euryale’s home, her brother’s point couldn’t be completely dismissed. Perhaps Typhon was behind this. A full-scale assault? Probably not. But an assassin? Certainly. And as for the Father of Monsters, Euryale was a prime target for revenge…or worse, her family.
A minute later, the two Olympians reached the gorgon’s estate, Ares singing songs of war while Athena’s vision sharpened and hearing heightened to keep her ready for whatever lay ahead.
Athena heard a door slam to their right, likely coming from the inner courtyard. She grabbed Ares by the arm, but he quickly shrugged her off.
“I heard!” he cried out with glee before bounding forward with a speed and lust for blood she could never hope to match.
“This is her home, Ares!” she yelled to him. “And there are children here! Try not to destroy everything!”
“Bah! What do you know? They each have their own guns I personally gave them. Guns they no doubt long to use to level everything around!”
“Just don’t, okay?” Athena said, trying not to get drawn into an argument. She then bolted through the main welcoming area, slowing only a moment to ensure that nothing looked out of the ordinary. If her brother ended up giving in to his desires for wanton violence, she wanted to have a snapshot of as much of the area as possible for a later postmortem.
She did the same when she crossed the inner courtyard, and then through the kitchen and dining area, following the sounds of someone fleeing. Or maybe it was her following Ares who was following another. It was hard to tell, especially since whoever she was chasing seemed to be fleeing through the estate at random.
Eventually, she found herself toward the back of the home, about halfway between the vineyard (which for some reason was covered in tiny blobs of paint) and the stables (which suffered a lot of the same damage). Ares stood nearby, crouched and grinning.
“They’re close,” he said, sniffing the air.
“Who? Alex? Euryale?”
“Yes,” he said. “But hopefully our foe, too.”
The stable doors burst open, and Athena barely caught her brother’s arm before he hurled his spear and skewered Euryale in the chest. The gorgon, with eyes wide and white-knuckled fingers gripping the reins to her chariot, shot into the sky.
“Euryale!” Athena called out. “Come back!”
Ares spun, taking a half step in a few random directions. “She’s running from someone,” he said. “We must find them and crush them before they get away.”
A door leading into the servant quarters shot open and out spilled Alex. He was still covered in mud on the quote-unquote chase he’d led her on, but instead of the misguided amusement he’d worn on his face not even an hour ago when he thought he was being clever, now all he wore was confusion and worry.
His eyes found Athena’s and quickly narrowed. “What did you do to her?”
“Alex,” Athena said as evenly as she could, given his insubordinate tone. “I didn’t do anything to her. We quite literally just arrived.”
“Then why did she tear out of here like that?”
“You tell me, Alex.”
Euryale’s husband shrugged and threw up his hands with a helpless look on his face. “I have no idea,” he said. “I came home. She was in the bath, took one look at me and ran, screaming.”
“Madness, perhaps?” asked a new, soft voice. “Induced by some creature that’s hidden from our eyes.”
Athena glanced over her shoulder to see Artemis trotting up to join the three of them. The goddess wore her usual attire of a silky, white chiton fastened with gold clasps with her crescent-moon circlet neatly resting atop her head of brown hair. However, she also had her chlamys, a dark hunting cloak, drawn about her shoulders, and kept a bow and arrow in hand.
“I get the feeling whatever pursuit you were on led you here,” Athena noted, pointing to the ensemble.
The Goddess of the Hunt nodded. “Something’s been slinking around Olympus,” she said. “I don’t know what it is, but I intend on finding it and killing it.”
“There wasn’t any creature,” Alex said, shaking his head. “She was scared of me.”
Athena cocked her head at the unexpected development. “Of you?”
Alex ran his fingers through his hair once more. “Yeah, of me. And she wasn’t crazy. She was scared out of her mind.”
“That sounds like insanity to me,” Artemis interjected.
Athena held up a hand, stopping Alex’s protest before it even began. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. I think we need to see the scene of the crime before we speculate any further.”
Ares grunted and drove a fist into an empty palm. “Bah! We need to capture whatever monster Artemis is tracking, and as we tear it limb from limb, we need to find out where it came from so we can strike at our foe with the full fury of the gods!”
Athena hummed to herself, trying to decide what to do, but also knowing that every second she spent thinking things through might be one she didn’t have to spare. “Ares, scout the perimeter,” she said. “We need to make sure there aren’t any surprises whilst Artemis and I look around.”
“Scout?” Ares scoffed. “My skill should not be wasted in such pathetic tasks.”
“You have my permission to beat into submission anyone you find who shouldn’t be here as much as you like.”
Her brother’s eyes brightened, second only to the enormous grin that spread across his face. “It shall be done!”
While Ares ran off, Athena then turned to Alex. “Your children, has anything happened to them?”
“I don’t know,” Alex stammered, face losing all of its color. “I would assume they’re fine.”
“Don’t assume,” she said. “Find them. And when you do, take them to my temple.”
“But—”
“No buts, Alex,” she ordered. “Something happened to your wife, something I fear might be bigger than any dispute between her and me, given Artemis’s words. If that’s the case, not only do we need to preserve any evidence here, but they need to be safe.”
Alex nodded. “Okay,” he said. “They
should be in their room, assuming they haven’t freaked out with their mom running off like that.”
“Good. Now go.”
Once Alex left, Athena motioned with her head for Artemis to follow, and the two made for the bathhouse. Along the way, they were careful not to disturb anything and tried to take note of everything, but Athena had so many unanswered questions, she wasn’t sure what she should be looking for whatsoever.
“You know something,” Artemis said as they drew near their goal.
“I have a suspicion,” she admitted.
“One that doesn’t involve my hunt.”
Athena shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t want to taint your opinion inadvertently. So, I’d rather not speculate in front of you.”
“My opinion?”
Athena nodded. “There is no better tracker to have ever lived than you, my sweet Artemis,” she said. “I need you to tell me what you see once we reach the epicenter of this event.”
The goddess opened her mouth as if to say something else, but ultimately nodded and briskly walked in step with Athena. Once they reached the stairs leading into the bathhouse, they slowed, being careful not to disturb a thing. To the untrained eye, even the stairs were devoid of anything, but to Artemis, Athena knew, a tracker without equal, there was a wealth of knowledge.
What the Goddess of the Hunt saw, she didn’t say, at least, not at first. It wasn’t until after the two had stood quietly about a dozen paces from the edge of the sunken tub that Artemis finally shared some of her thoughts. “Euryale came here alone,” she said. “Relaxed and wanting to soak. Aside from the obvious wine bottle and glass, her path was lazy.”
“You could see those?” Athena asked, genuinely impressed. She’d picked up on the wine in an instant, and even saw a number of places on the floor where water had pooled. But traces of Euryale’s entry? Even with Artemis’s motion to the floor, Athena was at a loss as to where they were.
“She picked up some dust from the wine cellar.”
Athena laughed and clapped her half-sister on the shoulder. “Plain as Apollo riding through the sky to you, I’m sure.”
“Even more so.”
“What happened next?”
Artemis pointed to the bath and then nodded her head to the stairs. “She bathed, likely fell asleep—her arms rubbed some of the dirt away from the floor—until someone else joined her.”
“Was that someone Alex?”
“Someone mimicking Alex,” she said. “Same stride. Same foot size. Came without worry, but definitely not Alex. You can easily see the muddy trail Alex left coming and going. It would be very strange that he came in, engaged with Euryale, left, and came back muddy.”
“Agreed,” Athena said. “Could it be this mystery intruder you’ve been hunting?”
Artemis shook her head. “I don’t see any signs of whoever it is here, nor on the stairs,” she explained. “Even though I don’t know who or what it is, only that its tracks felt more watchful.”
“Watchful?”
“Measured. Careful. Someone trying to see as much as they could without being seen themselves.”
“I see,” Athena replied, not liking where this was going. “We’ll have to deal with that later. What happened next?”
Artemis blushed, which told Athena exactly what was about to be said as well as lent credit to the scenario she was building in her head. “The gorgon was intimate with whoever came,” the goddess went on. “Everywhere.”
“Everywhere?”
Artemis went around the room and pointed to a dozen different places. “There, there, there, and so on. I’d say that’s everywhere. Then whoever came left while she lay on her back. Soon after, I assume, she rose, and Alex entered, at which point she ran out, screaming.”
“Any idea where she went?”
“Game that flees with such reckless abandon usually won’t stop until exhausted or somewhere it knows is safe,” Artemis said. “And if Olympus is no longer that place, I’m at a loss for where she might head.”
“I’m not,” Athena said, shaking her head. “She’s going home. Back to her island. The one place no one could ever harm her, even if she did live in exile.”
“But Medusa—”
“Was not her,” Athena finished. “Trust me on this. She’s going there. This thing, however, bothers me. Its tracks led you to this estate?”
Artemis nodded. “Circling it, but yes.”
“I’m not yet sure what that means, but it’s nothing we should ignore. That said, I need a favor that will take you elsewhere.”
“Where would that be?”
“Euryale’s island,” she replied. “I’ll need you to win back her trust.”
“Me?” she asked, clearly surprised. “She knows you more than me. You should go.”
“I can’t,” Athena said. “We’re…having a disagreement already.”
“Then send another,” Artemis replied. “Harmonia, even. She’s the Goddess of Concord, after all.”
“True, but you have a heart, too, and more importantly, you’ll be here for this phone call.”
Artemis dropped her brow. “Phone call? To whom?”
“Father,” Athena replied, taking out her Olympi-phone.
“What does he have to do with all of this?”
“Everything, I fear, and I want a witness to what he says.” Athena swiped past the picture on her lock screen, a snowy owl perched on a stump with a frozen lake and full moon in the background, and called Zeus. It took a few rings before her father answered. Though she couldn’t see much of where he was, the warm glow coming from off the screen made her think he was lounging in front of his fireplace.
“Athena,” he said with a merry cheer that soured her stomach. “To what do I owe the honor of this call?”
“What did you do?”
Zeus chuckled and tilted his head. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean, what did you do to Euryale!” Athena yelled before turning her phone so she could pan it around the bathhouse. “Tell me!”
“I did what I had to,” he said. “Precisely what I said I would.”
“No, you did what you wanted to. Again.”
Zeus’s face hardened, and lightning crackled in his eyes. “I am your father, Athena,” he said. “You’d do best to remember that.”
“Something I’m completely ashamed of at the moment,” Athena said. “Pray tell, Father, was it worth it?”
“Cronus wants her to steal my throne, so I’d say it was very much worth knowing who’s after me.”
Athena snorted with disgust and felt bile rise in her throat. “She doesn’t want the throne,” she scoffed. “She never has. Never will.”
“She said as much, but—”
“No buts, Father!” Athena yelled with such force Zeus snapped back and cut himself off. She cursed under her breath in the momentary silence and rubbed her temples. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” she said, dropping her tone so it was only a degree below irate. “No idea whatsoever.”
The shock at being berated by his daughter wore off a split second later. “I know exactly what I did,” he said. “Not that I have to justify my actions to you, but I gave her a chance to tell me, twice even, and instead, she chose to keep her secret—a secret that could spell the end of us all.”
“She would’ve told us eventually,” Athena said, crossing her arms. “Now, it’s likely you’ve made her our enemy.”
“To her own end.”
“To yours!” Athena retorted. “Her father alone is no one to be trifled with.”
“I can handle the Old Man.”
“Can you? What about the others?” she asked. “Everyone in Olympus loves her, especially after ferreting out Hera, thwarting Hephaestus, and putting a stop to Typhon! Who do you think they will rally behind? One who risked her own existence to save those who mistreated her, or a brutish ruler who thinks it’s okay to defile one of our own? She’s an Olympian, remember? And even if
she weren’t, that’s no excuse to…” Athena halted her rant and groaned out of frustration, balling her fists at her side. “I can’t believe you did this.”
Zeus’s face turned hard as stone. “You think they won’t understand or say they wouldn’t have done the same?”
Athena pressed her lips together so she didn’t say anything else that would make things worse. “Meet me at the acropolis at noon tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll call everyone together, and you can make your case to them there. Then we’ll see which of us is right.”
Chapter The Island
Euryale flew for hours, rocking in her chariot, numb in body and mind.
By the time the tiny, barren island she’d once called home, which was stuck on the western edge of the world, crested the horizon, the sun had nearly set. Its golden rays reflected off the sea, giving it a bright sheen but also casting long shadows across the island’s bay where a myriad of mismatched, ancient ships whose crew had long perished, still lay at anchor.
The sight of those ships put a smile on her face. Those were things she knew. Real things. Not illusions she couldn’t see weren’t true.
Euryale set the chariot down near a trireme that listed sharply to one side. Its sail had long disintegrated, and most of the deck had rotted away, but despite the decrepit look, that one was her favorite. It was the first ship that had found her island thousands of years ago. Though the soldiers who came with it had proven to be arrogant and hostile—and were dealt with accordingly—she’d always liked to sit atop the cliffs, stare at the vessel, and dream about what it would be like to roam the world, free of exile, and see what it was like.
She didn’t have to wonder anymore, sadly, because horror lingered everywhere.
The thought, born from nowhere, stabbed Euryale’s heart, and she squeezed out a few tears before hurrying up a rocky footpath. It snaked its way up a sharp incline before coming to rest near the mouth of a cave. Several statues flanked it on either side, their faces forever twisted in anguish, and beyond them, her old fire pit made of rough stone still stood, and it even had coals inside.
A Storm of Blood and Stone (Myths of Stone Book 3) Page 6