A Storm of Blood and Stone (Myths of Stone Book 3)

by Galen Surlak-Ramsey

  “What are you going to do now?” Achlys whispered, her head suddenly appearing next to Euryale’s.

  “Stop toying with me!” Euryale yelled as she lashed out, but the goddess was gone as quickly as she came.

  Nails stabbed her skin across her back and shoulders, each one cramping her muscles and sending waves of agony through her body. Euryale gritted her teeth and shook her head, trying to regain her strength and not to succumb to her wounds.

  “Down, down, down you go,” Achlys sang, her voice coming from all around. “Forever will your daughter know, her little bitty mommy tried, but no matter what, she only died.”

  Stheno’s hands went under Euryale’s shoulders as she helped keep her sister upright. “She’s not better than us,” she said. Stheno lifted her head and raised her voice. “You hear me? You’re not better than us! You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

  Mist condensed behind Stheno, and before Euryale could think about saying a word or reacting, Achlys was on Stheno’s back, legs wrapped around her waist, her spidery fingers clutching her throat. Stheno froze, eyes filled with terror the likes of which Euryale had never seen before.

  “And who am I dealing with, pray tell, little gorgon?” Achlys said as she pressed her cold, sticky cheek against the side of Stheno’s face.

  “It only took one of us to send Typhon to the Abyss,” Stheno said, regaining her defiant stance. “What do you think two of us can do?”

  Achlys’s body shook with delight as she laughed. “Typhon? A waste of a monster if there ever was one. First war he gets in, he loses, and ends up spending how many eons trapped under a mountain?”

  “She’s blessed by Cronus, too,” Stheno said.

  “Cronus?” Achlys repeated, her eyes drifting to meet Euryale’s. “Are you now?”

  “I am.”

  “Ha! Cronus! I love it,” she said as she stroked the side of Stheno’s face. “I’ll tell you a secret, gorgon. I don’t care if that old wretch of a titan gave you all of his power. I can wither his body with a single spit from my mouth. His command of time will never, ever, ever, ever, ever save him from the clutch of death. I come for everyone. Anyone.”

  The goddess continued to ramble, and Euryale, realizing this fight was not one she could win through sheer strength alone, studied her adversary. It was clear now that Achlys was a far more terrible foe than the stories about her had depicted, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t without weakness. After all, for as much as she loved sowing death and misery, life still flourished. Something had to keep the goddess in check.

  “Then why do you hide here, if you’re so dreadful?” Euryale asked.

  “I hide from nothing and no one,” Achlys replied.

  “I’d wager the Fates would disagree.”

  Achlys shot Euryale a wry grin. “Want to see how afraid I am of such a funny little trio of siblings? Listen to this: I swear by the River Styx I’ll never put as much as a scratch on your precious sister’s body from this moment forth.”

  “No!” Euryale cried, lunging with her arms outstretched.

  Achlys used her feet to kick off Stheno’s back while slicing her nails across the gorgon’s throat. Stheno’s neck ripped open, pus and blood pouring forth and black rot spreading across her skin.

  “Euryale…” Stheno gurgled. She staggered a moment and collapsed in a heap.

  Euryale scooped her sister up and cradled her body. “I’ve got you,” she said. “You’ll be right as the blue sea before you know it.”

  Achlys hobbled over to the pair, rubbing her hands together and licking her lips with a sore-encrusted tongue. “Will she, now? I’m surprised you would lie to her so.”

  Stheno reached up with a shaky hand and grabbed Euryale by the back of the head, drawing her close. “Thank you,” she said with a shaky voice. “Thank you for setting me free.”

  With her eyes clouded by tears, Euryale shook her head, refusing to entertain where her sister was going with this. “Quiet,” she scolded. “You’re not allowed to give up. You’re immortal, damn it. Start acting like it.”

  “Immortal? Is that what you think?” Achlys said, taking Euryale by the shoulder. “Who’s been filling your head with such silly nonsense, dearie?”

  Euryale shrugged the goddess off, keeping her eyes fixed on her sister. Her skin burned like fire, and her breathing sounded raspy and uneven. “Don’t you dare listen to her,” the gorgon said. “We’ve still got a city to burn, remember? A god to topple. You wouldn’t want to miss out on that, would you?”

  Achlys straightened. “A city to burn, you say? Now, there’s the first sensible thing you’ve said this whole time. Pray tell, dearie, what city?”

  “Olympus.”

  “Olympus? Olympus!” she shouted, jumping up, hands reaching for the heavens. “I love it! But…but there are so many gods there,” she muttered, shaking her head. “So many. They’ll not like you setting fire to the place. Especially Zeus. He’ll likely stop you. Sweet talk you, even. Make you his lover, caress your body till you forget all about your troubles.”

  Achlys had scarcely finished her sentence when Euryale spun around and attacked one last time. She howled, driving a shoulder into the goddess’s chest. Her hands pinned Achlys’s wrists to the ground. An instant later, the gorgon sank her fangs into her neck and her vipers struck time and again.

  As Euryale ravaged her body, the goddess lay there, giggling. “Such wonderful fury,” she said, dancing her fingertips down Euryale’s spine. “Such burning hatred for Zeus! I could only dream of finding one like you, my sweet harbinger of death. Tell me, dearie, what did he do to earn such ire?”

  Euryale reared at the unexpected question. “He…” the gorgon paused, hating how hard it was to get the words out. She took a deep breath to finish. “He raped me in my own bathhouse.”

  To the gorgon’s surprise, the cachectic woman didn’t laugh or bathe in her misery. She did, however, offer her a vengeful smile. “Made you feel small and worthless, no doubt,” she said. “Still channeling that anger at yourself, though, yes, dearie?”

  “No.” But as soon as she spoke, Euryale shook her head, knowing it was a lie. “More than I’d like to admit.”

  “And you want to kill him now? Make him pay for his terrible crimes?”

  “Yes.”

  “And all those who stand with him?”

  “Yes.”

  Achlys wheezed and grinned broadly, as if trying to force out a sinister laugh that shriveled lungs hadn’t a prayer to expel. “I like you, gorgon. Your sister even more, and your desires the most,” she said. “So, I make you this offer, dearie. I’ll tell you where to find this flower you seek. I’ll even steal the poison that now snuffs the life of your sister, but I want something in return.”

  Euryale grabbed the old goddess’s hands tight. “Anything.”

  “Anything?” she repeated. “Oh, even I’m not that cruel to hold you to that. But what I do want from you is a written confession of everything you plan on doing.”

  Euryale let go and furrowed her brow, not following the request whatsoever. “A confession? Why?”

  “Because I’m going to send it to Zeus himself,” she said. “And the war born from the two of you will be terrible, terrible indeed.”

  “But my daughter!”

  “Might not make it if Zeus has his way with you,” she chuckled. “So if you fail in this quest of yours, what sweeter suffering could there ever be for a mother to know she had the cure in hand her daughter so desperately needed, only to be killed by the god who ravaged her.”

  Stheno coughed, drawing Euryale’s attention. “Don’t. You don’t need me,” she said. “Find it on your own.”

  Euryale looked down at her sister, cleared her eyes, and traded her pain for determination. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I need you, and together no one will stop us.”

  “Lovely, dearie. Lovely,” Achlys said as she placed her hand on Stheno’s forehead. “This will only take a moment,
and then we’ll get to writing this letter of yours.”

  The black lines of rot that marred Stheno’s neck withered and withdrew as pus formed on the goddess’s fingers and ran up her arm. Euryale gagged at the fetid substance, but Achlys reveled in it. Once all the poison was removed from Stheno’s body, Achlys tore some cloth from the rags she wore and used it as a makeshift bandage.

  “There you go, sweet thing,” she said, patting Stheno’s head. “That body of yours ought to heal now. You’ll be back to killing in no time.”

  Stheno swatted the goddess’s hand away and rolled to the side to take to her feet. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

  “Are you going to stop me?” Achlys chuckled while shuffling around the pair. “Let’s not play silly games. I want to like you. Use you. Watch you grow and bring forth a plague like no other.” The goddess paused and leaned her head forward as she pointed a gnarled finger at the pair. “But I’ll not tolerate the rude. I can find others who share my love, use you as a warning to everyone else. A long time has it been since I’ve made an example out of someone. Might be time to do it again.”

  Stheno growled, and Euryale caught her by the shoulder and pulled her back. “You’ve made your point,” she said. “Where do we find this flower?”

  “You’re as smart as you are deadly, gorgon,” Achlys said with a nod of approval. “We’re going to do such wonderful things together. Such wonderful things.”

  “Please, tell us where to find it already.”

  Achlys brought her fingers under her chin and tapped them together, turning unspoken thoughts in her mind. “A long time ago, I saw one growing on a rocky outcropping overlooking the River of Chaos,” she finally said. “I’ll draw you a map after you write your letter.”

  “The River of Chaos?” Euryale repeated, scarcely believing what she’d heard. “Beyond Nyx’s realm? A place that tears reality apart a thousand times in a blink of an eye?”

  Achlys chuckled. “At the edge, but yes, that’s the place.”

  “How are we ever supposed to survive there?”

  The goddess grinned and shrugged. “That’s your problem, dearie. Not mine. Not mine at all.”

  “If you won’t help, who will?”

  “Perhaps Mother will,” Achlys said. “But then again, she’s still irked about Aphrodite being so blasé about coming to her home, uninvited. I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

  Chapter About That Vault

  A few yards outside of Aphrodite’s abode, Alex paced with his stomach in knots. He hated every ounce of the deal he’d struck with Hera. Not only because it involved a massive amount of risk to himself, his wife, and his children, but also because he couldn’t shake the feeling that Hera’s dirty work could end in disaster if he wasn’t careful, despite her promises.

  After all, her reputation for being vindictive till the end of time was well earned.

  But any second thoughts about it all mattered not. He’d struck his deal and now could only pray the Fates would show him some kindness.

  “You can do this, Alex,” he muttered. “Aphrodite is…sort of your wife’s friend now. They’re practically BFFs. She’ll hardly think anything of you popping by. Right? So…just go. Just go. Just. GO.”

  Alex didn’t. He stared at the front door, rooted in place, and swore up a storm before throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. “GAH! This is so stupid.”

  After hammering a fist into an open palm at least a dozen times, Alex forced himself up the stairs. He was a hero, damn it, one who battled cyclopes, wrestled immortal lions, and hung on to a wheel of fire for the fun of it. Well, maybe that last part wasn’t entirely true. He hadn’t had any fun doing that, but he had done it, regardless. Those memories would forever be scorched into his mind. Talking to Aphrodite should be simple. Hell, they could probably bond a little over their mutually shared experience of being horribly disfigured.

  “Hello?” Alex called out as he wrapped loudly on the door several times. “Aphrodite? Are you there?”

  No answer.

  Alex tried again, and again he was met with silence. He tried pressing his ear against the door, hoping that something would come of it, but that effort also proved to be a fruitless endeavor. So, he knocked one more time and tried the door.

  It opened without protest, revealing the entryway to Aphrodite’s estate. Alex wasn’t sure what to expect in terms of what would be on the other side. He hadn’t even given it any thought. That said, however, what lay before him turned out to be exactly Aphrodite. All of it.

  Extravagant pink silk hung from the ceiling while a myriad of sculptures lined the walls, with a particularly large and impressive piece front and center inside the circular room. The figure, Aphrodite herself no less, wearing a single piece of sheer cloth, stood in the middle of a crystal-clear pool, arms raised with her hands behind her head as if fixing her hair, while she smiled and looked down at something not depicted a few feet away.

  But it wasn’t simply the art that screamed this place belonged to the Goddess of Love. The air held a sweet, enticing fragrance that sparked memories of a first love in Alex, and the light music of a far-off lyre carried in the air. Even the marble used for the floors and columns was tailored to her persona, as not a single inch seemed short of perfect smoothness and, in a strange way, softness, too.

  Alex shook his head, snapping himself out of the trance he’d stuck himself in admiring it all. He didn’t dare step foot inside without her permission, and a part of him wondered how much goodwill he’d already used up by simply pushing the door open. He hammered on the door again and tried calling for her one last time.

  “Hello? Aphrodite?” he said, hands cupping around his mouth. “I really need to see you. I tried calling, but your phone was off. And…um…the door was open. I swear.”

  A few beats passed, and then he heard a door slam somewhere in the back of her home. Alex tensed, and a few seconds later, the goddess stormed into the entry room from the other side, hastily brushing messy hair with an ivory comb.

  “What is it, Alex?” she snapped. But before he could answer, she glanced down at her disheveled chiton and huffed as she smoothed it out. “It better be important. I’m not exactly in the mood to entertain guests.”

  “It’s important,” Alex replied. “It’s about the kids.”

  Ares joined them right as he finished, bounding into the room with unbridled enthusiasm. Though he was as naked as a newborn, on his skin, he wore a sheen of sweat and countless fine scratches across his chest and shoulders. “Something’s wrong with the littles?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

  “It’s Cassandra.” Alex swallowed, only now realizing how hard this conversation was going to be and how helpless and terrified it made him feel.

  Ares growled and clenched his fists together. “Ends of Chaos! She’s disappointed with the howitzer I gave her, isn’t she? I knew I should’ve given her a bigger gun.”

  “No,” Alex said, finding some relief in how predictable Ares’s thoughts were.

  “No?” he said, brow furrowing. “Something even bigger? A tank maybe. No, a hundred tanks! A battleship! By the Fates! Why didn’t I think of that before? What little girl wouldn’t want to fling three-thousand-pound shells and watch her enemies blow away like chaff? I’m such a fool!”

  “Cassandra, she’s…dying. Or…petrified. Or both I guess,” he sputtered.

  Aphrodite’s eyes grew, and she stumbled over her words as much as Alex had. “What? When? How? Why?”

  Speaking on the facts, somehow, helped Alex simply go about the motions of relaying things. Facts were cold, easy to handle. Emotions, feelings, not so much. “We went to the aquarium to free Stheno. Someone tried to kill Euryale but ended up poisoning Cassandra instead,” he said. “Apollo tried to cure her, but he said he couldn’t. The poison was acting too fast, so Euryale petrified her to buy us more time.”

  “Oh, Alex,” Aphrodite said, hurrying over to him and giving him a hug.
“I can’t even begin to imagine. You have my word. We’ll see you two through all of this. It’s the least we can do.”

  Ares strode over to the pair and clasped Alex’s shoulder with an iron grip. “Yes, Alex, we will find this cowardly assassin and slowly tear him apart over the next thousand years.”

  “That part might be a little hard.”

  “No, actually, it is quite easy and enjoyable,” Ares said, chuckling. “I suspect you’ll pick up the finer points of torture in no time at all, especially with the need for vengeance coursing through your veins. A hero of your strength will be able to rip sinews as easily as you could parchment.”

  Alex laughed again at the unexpected, but once again, typical Ares response.

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, shaking his head. “I meant, Stheno already tore him to pieces. Literally.”

  Ares perked. “Stheno? Euryale’s sister?”

  “Yeah. The same. I told you, we went to get her at the aquarium.”

  “But you mean she’s no longer a whale. She’s a gorgon?”

  “Well, not sporting the uber tail like Euryale right now, but yeah, she’s a gorgon,” Alex said. He then let loose a long whistle. “And holy hell, that girl is vicious. I mean, Euryale stopped her before she could bathe in the blood of every park-goer there, but I’ll be damned if Stheno didn’t try her hardest not to top the slaughter charts.”

  Ares arched his eyebrows and squeezed Alex’s shoulder again. “I wish to hear more about this gorgon.”

  “Ares!” Aphrodite cut in.

  “What?” he said, throwing up his hands. “Do you not wish to know more about this creature of bloodshed? She sounds as if she’s more of an instrument of death and destruction than even Euryale—when she gets worked up, that is. Otherwise, she is a little docile, no offense, Alex.”

  “No, dear, I’m not interested.”

  Ares continued, lost in his own thoughts and oblivious to the continued sour look upon his lover’s face. “I wonder if her beauty matches her ferocity,” he mused, rubbing his chin. “Tell me, little Alex, would she stop the heart of any male who gazed upon her?”