“How dare you say such a thing,” Artemis scolded, skin flushed. “I would never abandon you like that. And even if I wanted to, I can’t. I’ve made my oaths, and I intend to see them through. Justice must prevail.”
“I don’t want you to follow me because you think I’m something I’m not, is all.”
Artemis snorted. “Sister, I’ve known you for eons. I know all your embarrassing secrets and dirty little stories. If there’s anyone who knows what you are and what you are not, it is I.”
“I’m supposed to be the Goddess of Wisdom,” Athena said. “I’m not supposed to make mistakes. Yet I’ve made many, especially as of late.”
“Being the Goddess of Wisdom doesn’t mean you don’t err,” Artemis countered. “It means you’re wise enough to acknowledge when you do and do better next time. What other Olympian can claim the same? They never change, never learn from the past—though I suppose Aphrodite has shown a little promise lately, yes? Are you going to give her your title now?”
Athena remained silent for several moments. Her gaze drifted to a chessboard, and she picked up one of the pawns and toyed with it in her hand. Eventually, the toying stopped. “I wonder how many mistakes I’ve made, though. How many I loathe to acknowledge.”
“Don’t we all,” Artemis said. “Don’t we all.”
Chapter Achlys
A sharp pain stabbed through her fingers. Euryale jerked awake to find herself in the muck, slumped against the tree, with a skeletal creature firmly latched on to her hand.
The thing was about the size of a thirty-pound dog with four legs sporting claws and a skull that looked like it belonged more on a dragon than a canine. The moment it saw the gorgon wake, it let go of her hand and jumped back in surprise, only to launch itself at her neck a split second later.
“Stheno!” Euryale yelled, diving to the side with her arms up to try and block the attack.
The monster clamped down on her forearm, its teeth piercing flesh and digging into bone. Euryale howled and channeled her pain into anger. She grabbed the creature by the back of its neck and drove forward, using it as a battering ram against the tree.
The creature shattered on impact, sending fragments of bone in all directions. Euryale ripped its skull free of her arm and spent the next few seconds driving it into the tree as well. The damn thing was resilient but not indestructible. On the third hit, it, too, shattered.
Sensing that danger still loomed, Euryale spun around as three more similar creatures pulled themselves out of the black mud. They staggered at first, like marionettes being brought to life by a demented puppeteer, but they quickly found their footing and coordination.
Euryale didn’t wait to see what they’d do. She bellowed, loud and fierce, before pouncing on the nearest one, which happened to be larger, but thinner, than the one she’d destroyed moments ago. It met her charge by leaping at her face with an open maw of broken teeth.
The gorgon caught it under the chin with her right hand, and using its momentum against it, spun it in a circle and launched it at the next monster. The two collided, breaking limbs in the process.
An instant before she tore into the third, Stheno dove on top of it, coming seemingly out of nowhere. Her sister dug her claws into the spaces of its rib cage and flung the bones, laughing all the while. “Finally!” she cried out, ripping it apart further. “And here I thought this day would be dull!”
The fourth backed away, keeping its head low, its eye sockets fixated on the two sisters, before lifting its head to the sky and baying mournfully.
Stheno shot forward, grabbing it by the neck, narrowly avoiding the snapping of teeth in the process.
“What are you going to do now, I wonder,” she said, holding it up in the air. The thing struggled vainly against her grip before reaching up with its back claws and tearing a set of deep gouges in her flesh.
“Stone for you, yes?” Stheno purred. Her eyes narrowed, but nothing happened. Surprise splashed over her face, and she grunted in disgust, at which point she grabbed the creature’s rear legs and tore them from their sockets. “Not immune to that, are you?”
The skeletal beast answered with more thrashing and snapping, to which Stheno began plucking its bones off its body one at a time. Euryale watched her sister play with the thing, pulling off the front legs before tossing the body. As soon as it hit the mud, the ground rumbled, and countless dozens broke free of the muck.
“More? More, Euryale! More! They want more of us!” Stheno laughed, scooping up her spear and charging headlong into the fray.
Euryale followed, and together the two decimated the undead monsters’ ranks. Blood, bone, and scale flew, and with each wound Euryale suffered at the jaws of one of the monsters, each slash across her chest and face she took from a claw or hooked tail, she further sank into an uncontrolled rage.
Her world turned into a familiar blur of chaos. The snapping of bone filled her ears, and the taste of blood—hers and her sister’s—lingered all around. Shadows slammed into her, latching onto her arms and tail, only to be beaten back by nothing but her sheer ferocity. She would not fall here. She would not allow these abominations to keep her from finding Achlys, from getting an antidote to save her sweet Cassandra. She’d sooner carve out her own heart before she let any of that come to pass.
Gradually, the attacks lessened in number and strength. As they did, she left that world of madness. Her vision sharpened, and everything faded back into view.
“You’ve come a long way,” Stheno said, smiling and panting a few feet away. Her sister was covered in wounds from scalp to toe, and her blood lay caked across her body. In one hand, she held the remains of the last monster, which she dropped to the ground and then drove her spear through its skull. “That said,” she added. “By my count, I killed twice as many.”
“It’s not a contest.”
“Says the one who lost.”
Stheno’s reply had an edgy, confrontational tone to it, but before Euryale could respond, the bog heaved one last time upward, sending mud and water spraying in all directions. From the eruption rose a massive amalgam of rotted flesh and bone. Its head spanned a dozen feet at its narrowest point, and it had teeth the size of a giant. Fiery red orbs filled its eye sockets, and skeletal, bat-like wings shot out from its shoulders nearly a hundred yards in each direction.
“You should not have come here, interloper,” the monster said, bringing its head low. “You have no power here.”
Stheno backed and threw a glance at her sister. “Perhaps we ought to take this one together.”
Euryale narrowed her eyes and shook her head, not at her sister, but at the thing that dared threaten her. “Take us to Achlys,” she said. “I will not ask twice.”
“Or what?”
“Or die.”
A rolling, thunderous laughter poured from its mouth. It then reared back and tried to swat Euryale where she stood.
The gorgon held her ground. Her eyes turned to midnight, and her curse flowed.
“Impossib—” the monster shrieked.
He never finished the word. His body hardened, cracking as it did. For a few seconds he stood there, petrified, with his head turned to the side and his claws outstretched. Then the weight of his new form took over. The cracks spread and turned into fissures before he crumbled and sank back into the swamp.
Still seething, Euryale took several deep breaths, all the while staring at the remains of the petrified thing.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Stheno said, groaning and crossing her arms over her chest. “Even thousands of years later, you’re still the one favored by the Fates.”
Her sister’s words caught Euryale by such surprise, her anger vanished, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you talking about?”
“That!” Stheno said, gesturing to the petrified remains. “You get to do all that!”
“So?”
“So? It’s not fair! I swear, once we’re done here, that’s going to be
the first thing we change.”
“Fair? Whoever said life is fair, my cute little gorgon,” chimed a new, sweet voice from behind.
Euryale twisted around as a figure broke through the fog and into the light, a figure that had to be Achlys herself.
The gorgon had always heard tales regarding the primordial Goddess of Death and Misery growing up, but not a single one of them did her justice when it came to offering an accurate description. As she hobbled toward them through the fog, a constant drip ran from her nose while blood seeped from sunken, pale cheeks. Her eyes looked clouded over, vacant and empty, and her torso, barely clothed with scraps of dirty rags, caved in on itself as if she’d been starving for a thousand years and had somehow lived to tell the tale. Mats of grime infested her ratty hair that fell in clumps to muddy shoulders, and her knees and elbows were so swollen, it had to be excruciating for her to even think about bending them.
Despite all of this, Achlys grinned as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “Euryale. Stheno,” she said, cackling between their names. “I’ve been dying to meet you.”
Of the two sisters, Euryale spoke first. “You have? Why?”
The goddess, who barely stood to each gorgon’s chest, reached up and grabbed them both by the shoulder. “Why? Because I’m always dying!” she laughed. “Isn’t it grand? Now come here and let me get a good look at you both.”
Achlys dug her long, dirt-encrusted nails into Euryale’s cheeks and pulled her head down so that the two were face to face. “Such pretty, pretty fangs you’ve got, dearie,” she said. “Have you killed a lot of men with them lately, or do you simply turn them all to stone now?”
“Lately, I haven’t done much of either,” Euryale said. “I’m trying to keep it that way.”
Achlys threw the gorgon back as if she’d just been scorched. “You are? Why, dearie, why? Such gifts. Such raw power. All to be wasted? Say you’re having some fun with me, love, and this is your play at humor. Please say such a thing and make an old goddess happy.”
Euryale shook her head. “I don’t like killing anyone.”
“How dreadful! Are you bored with it already?” she asked, frowning. The corners of her mouth turned back up as she nodded to herself and tapped Euryale on the nose with a finger. “I could teach you, will teach you! Better ways to gut a man, ways to tear apart his family, see his wife boiled, and his children gnawing at their own entrails. Ways you’ve never thought of before. What a lovely time you’ll have then, yes, yes.”
“I only want to live in peace,” Euryale said.
“How you tease!” Achlys replied, pointing a playful finger at the gorgon. “You think I was born only an eon ago? As if a fearsome creature such as yourself would come see sweet, little old me about peace.” She laughed again and shuffled over to Stheno. As she had with Euryale, Achlys grabbed the gorgon by the cheeks and pulled her head low. “And what about you, red one? Are you going to tell me, too, that you want to waste your Fate-given talents petting puppies and planting precious little flowers till the end of time?”
Stheno flashed the goddess a predatory smile and gently took the goddess’s hands in hers. “I want you to make me the deadliest thing you can,” she said. “I want empires shredded by my claws, and the gods to tremble at the sight of my spear.”
“Oooo, I knew I was going to like you,” Achlys said, clutching her sides with a deep belly laugh. “Athena, such a fool. Thought it was a curse to turn you into what you are but look at you! Who could want more? Took on a titan, I hear. Took him on and sent him running.”
The enthusiasm in Stheno’s face faded, and she pressed her lips into a thin line before replying. “That wasn’t me,” she reluctantly admitted. “That was her.”
“Her? Are you certain?”
“Much to my frustration, I’m certain,” Stheno said before tossing her sister a quick smile. “No offense.”
“I can’t believe it! Your claws are so much sharper than hers, and your vipers! Oh, I love the color of each one! Bright red. Full of venom second to none. I’ve got a nose for that, you know, sweet thing.”
“I do! Make me strong, stronger than ever,” Stheno said, squeezing the goddess’s hands eagerly.
Achlys retreated a few steps, tilting her head and eying the gorgon, all the while gnawing on her fingertips. “Decisions, decisions,” she mumbled. “Always decisions.”
It was at that point that Euryale jumped back in the conversation. Enough time had been lost already. “We came to you for something else,” she said. “Something personal.”
Achlys hobbled over to her and stood on her tiptoes, grinning. “Oh, this sounds like something I’d be interested in,” she said. “What’s so special about little old me that you’d come all this way? It’s not my secrets you’re after, is it? Wanting to steal them, perhaps?”
Euryale shook her head. “No, we’re—”
“No? NO!” Achlys wailed and recoiled, swatting the air all around. “No. No. No! Such an awful, awful word, I never want to hear! Do you understand? Never! Never, ever, ever! It makes me so…so angry, and you. I like you. With all the great plans we’ll make, we mustn’t be angry with each other. Promise me you won’t make me angry. Promise me now, will you?”
“I promise,” Euryale said, tensing every muscle in her body. “I only meant that the reason we came was to seek help for my daughter. She’s been poisoned, but lives, for now. We need to find some hemalander.”
The Goddess of Misery relaxed, and then hunched over with a devious look upon her face. A tiny sparkle formed in her otherwise lifeless eyes, and she clasped her hands together and rocked back and forth as she spoke. “Hemalander? That’s a lovely flower. Very lovely indeed, and I can help you find it, dearie dear. I most certainly can. Want to use it to make an even better poison, yes? One that can kill that nasty little brood of yours once and for all. Put her in the grave where she belongs.”
“No!”
Achlys reared back again, her face twisting in anger. “No? You dare say no to my gifts?”
“You dare threaten my child?” Euryale shot back, rising up on her tail. “I’ve come to save her! Not kill her!”
Confusion marred the goddess’s face as if the words Euryale spoke were the words of a madwoman. “Save? Whatever for? Everything dies. Everything. Men. Women. Gods. Gorgons.” Achlys stopped and giggled. “Your sister died well. Such a shame you missed seeing her body fall to the ground, headless. I can still picture every twitch she made.”
“I will not suffer your words any longer, goddess,” Euryale growled.
Achlys hushed, like a toddler being reprimanded but not caring in the least. She then inched toward Euryale and stood on her tiptoes so she could whisper in the gorgon’s ear. “Do you know who else dies? Daughters of gorgons. Wait till you see how their little lips quiver those last…few…breaths…”
“Quiet!” Euryale yelled.
“Quiet? No, no. Not quiet. I’ll never be quiet, just like she’ll never live, and there’s nothing at all you can do about it. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Can you picture it now, I wonder? The small grave you’ll dig? The frail body you’ll lower into its depths? What words will you run to for comfort, I wonder, when the worms feast on her corpse.”
With a dreadful bellow, Euryale lunged at the goddess, claws and fangs eager to strike, but the blow never landed. Achlys vanished into a fine mist, and the gorgon struck nothing but air.
“Such a fight, dearie,” the goddess cackled, instantly rematerializing behind her. “How angry can you get, I wonder?”
Euryale growled, spinning as she did, only to catch a slap across the face. The goddess’s nails burned like fire as they tore through her skin, and in the blink of an eye, Euryale could feel the wounds already festering. Her strength gave out a moment later, and she fell to the ground, barely managing to catch herself with her hands before her head hit the muck.
“I’ll kill you!” Stheno screamed, sprinting forward. The gorgon drove the tip of her dory st
raight for the goddess’s chest. Long before the broad, adamantine head could pierce her skin, Achlys twisted, unnaturally so, and the weapon slid by harmlessly. Stheno whipped the spear around, trying to score a hit with the spike on the bottom end, but again, the goddess ducked out of the way with ease.
“Fast, but not fast enough, I’m afraid,” Achlys chided, darting forward and giving Stheno a set of wounds across her forearm.
Stheno howled in pain, falling back into a defensive crouch. Euryale pushed herself up and attacked. She rammed into the goddess from behind, wrapping her arms around Achlys’s chest so that her fingers could reach for her neck. In a flash, Euryale sank her claws into the leathery flesh. Dark coagulated blood oozed forth, carrying with it a putrid smell that made the gorgon’s eyes water.
“I told you to stop,” Euryale spat, ripping out the goddess’s throat and shoving her body forward.
Stheno seized the moment and lined her spear up perfectly so that when Achlys stumbled forward, she impaled her on the tip of the adamantium head. The spear pierced the goddess’s dark heart and shot out her back with ease.
For a few moments, no one moved, and Achlys hung limply on the weapon’s shaft. Then Stheno grabbed her matted hair and yanked her head back. “For all your bluster, you died far too easily,” she said before spitting in her face.
Achlys’s lips curled upward as her head rolled from side to side. “I don’t think this is quite as over as you thought it would be.”
Chapter Bargains
Stheno roared and tore her claws through the air, intent on ripping the smirk right off Achlys’s face.
The blow, as before, never connected. Achlys turned to mist. For a few tense moments, Euryale and Stheno scanned every inch around them, looking for the goddess, before going back to back to fend off wherever the next attack came from.
To Euryale’s ever-building fear, all that she saw was the gloom of the bog on all sides, and all she could hear were the sounds of their heavy breathing.
A Storm of Blood and Stone (Myths of Stone Book 3) Page 16