by Anne Ursu
“The half-breed Philonecron is here! On Olympus. He has the trident and he’s blasting his way to Zeus.”
“Oh, is that what that’s about?” Athena mumbled, distractedly brushing off a small pile of ash from her Sudoku book.
“Yes!” cried Persephone. “He destroyed the lobby! Didn’t you hear anything? And what about this?” She waved her hands in the air to indicate the falling ash.
“Philonecron!” snorted Dionysus, his mouth full of grapes. “Didn’t he get defeated by mortal children?”
Hera snorted. “Even my pathetic husband is more powerful than mortal whelps. Though apparently”—her eyes flicked over to Charlotte—“not by much.”
“He has the trident!” Persephone repeated.
Charlotte was trying hard to stay focused, but the very air around Persephone was thrumming with anxiety. Charlotte was anxious enough on her own.
“He can’t use it,” dismissed Athena.
“Yes, he can. I saw him. Remember, he is the grandson of Poseidon. Perhaps he—”
“Well, perhaps it’s time we had a real leader, then,” Hera said, picking a piece of ash from her peacock.
“What?”
“It would serve Zeus right, don’t you think? Anyway, at least Philonecron has goals.”
“Goals? Goals! Do you think he’s going to just let us go on as we are? He’s going to depose us all. He’ll lock us in with the Titans!”
“Why would he?” Hera replied. “We’ll be no threat to him.”
“Besides,” said Aphrodite, “if he has the trident, he’ll kill us if we fight back.”
“She has a point,” slurred Dionysus.
Charlotte couldn’t take it anymore. She had been watching the conversation with her mouth hanging open, but it had gotten too absurd.
“You’re not going to do anything?” she cried.
Persephone shot her a warning glance. The peacock hissed, and Hera’s head snapped to look at her. “Don’t tell us what we should do, mortal…. And what are you doing with her, anyway, Persephone? Don’t tell me your time in the Underworld has turned you into a mortal-lover.”
The goddess rolled her eyes. “A mortal-lover? Like your husband?”
The peacock hissed again, and Hera drew herself up to her full height, the whole room trembling with her rage. Persephone scoffed, and then suddenly the goddess was gone, and Charlotte was being borne aloft in the air again, flying across the terrace into the open blue sky, up toward Philonecron.
Before Zee or Zeus could react, there was a great blast of light from the trident that slammed into Zeus. His thunderbolt fell from his hands, and Zeus flew backward into the wall. As Philonecron cackled, thick steel-like ropes sprang from the trident and began winding their way around Zeus like snakes. The Lord of the Universe struggled and shouted, but could not break free.
“Philonecron, you evil, scheming half-breed!” roared Zeus. Philonecron raised an eyebrow and lifted the trident again, and a thick red velvet gag wrapped its way around Zeus’s mouth.
“Whoa,” breathed Steve.
Zee watched in horror. Philonecron had told him, once, back on Poseidon’s yacht, about an attempted overthrow of Zeus by Hera and Poseidon. They’d done just this—bound him up, separated him from his thunderbolt—and the only thing that saved him was the intervention of another goddess who sent a giant to free him.
Zee saw no giant here, no one to intervene. The Lord of the Universe had been trussed like a cow, and instead of being brave and defiant, instead of showing the cocksure attitude of the more powerful, Zeus was looking at the trident in utter terror.
“Is that really him?” whispered Steve, eyes aflame, as the ropes continued to bind Zeus up. “This is incredible—” He glanced around the room and noticed Zee and gaped. “What are you doing here?”
Philonecron turned his head toward Zee very slowly, and when he saw him, his red eyes flared. “You!” he hissed, clapping his hand on his chest.
“You know him?” Steve asked Philonecron.
Philonecron looked from Steve to Zee, then sighed languidly.
“Well, this is awkward,” he said. “Zero”—he turned to Zee and took a deep, reluctant breath—“I’ve met someone.”
“How do—,” Steve began. But whatever he was going to ask went unsaid, for Philonecron gracefully swung the trident so it touched Steve, and the boy was still.
Philonecron turned back to Zee, took a few tentative steps toward him, and clasped his hands together over the trident as if he was about to break it to Zee that there was no tooth fairy. “It’s better if we discuss this alone,” said Philonecron gravely.
Zee did not, could not respond. In his shock and anger and hatred, every muscle had seized up. He was planted there, a board stuck in the mud. Philonecron’s voice insinuated itself in his brain, his blood, moved through him like poison, curdling everything inside of him, changing Zee from the inside out.
“I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” Philonecron said, his words an ooze. “I never meant for it to happen this way. I know it must hurt, but rest assured, it’s not me, it’s you.”
Zee’s jaw was actually going to fuse closed, his hands would remain clenched for all of eternity. He would never move again; he would have to stay here for all time in his own metaphorical Tartarus with Philonecron driveling at him.
“Now, Zero, don’t look at me like that. I gave you every chance, didn’t I? You were my protégé, you were like a son to me, and how did you pay me back? You ran off with that sour, scheming little cousin of yours.”
Zeus’s thunderbolt lay on the floor about fifteen feet from Zee. If only he could get it, if only he could move—
“You know, Zero, the first time you betrayed me I was ready to forgive you. Yes, I know, it is impossibly noble of me, but I am impossibly noble. I forgave everything! I welcomed you back with open arms! I offered you a place, a home, family. I took you under my wing, I gave you the finest of everything! I was ready to give you the world, Zero! The Universe!” Philonecron’s voice cracked with emotion, and he bit his knuckle to control himself. “And what did you do? How did you pay me back?” He shook his head despondently. “You have no one to blame but yourself, Zero, no one!”
In his corner, Zeus grunted through his gag. Philonecron whipped his head to the god and snapped, “Quiet! I’m having a moment here!” He took the trident and blasted a hole in the ceiling. A pile of crystal came tumbling down on top of Zeus.
“Now,” he said, turning back to Zee, “I will admit to being a little…hurt. I am a very feeling soul, you know. But it was all for the best, of course, for if you had not committed such a foul and despicable act of betrayal, I never would have made the acquaintance of my friend here.” He stroked the trident lovingly.
Zee’s head spun. How did it happen? How could it have happened? He hurled the trident into the Ketos’s mouth, that was all. How had Philonecron gotten it? Was this his fault too?
No, no. It was not time for Zee to be crushed with his own burdens. It did not matter. Philonecron had the trident. Philonecron was going to take over the universe. He had the trident, he had Zeus in chains, and he had—
Steve.
The realization smacked Zee across the face. Everything became clear: Steve was prophesied to overthrow Zeus. Philonecron had found out somehow and had brought him up to fulfill the prophecy. Steve would overthrow Zeus, then Philonecron would kill Steve and turn the whole universe into his sick little playground. It would have been better just to let Zeus flood the place.
“Ah, yes,” said Philonecron, eyeing Zee. “And my other friend too.” He squeezed Steve’s shoulder possessively. “Oh, Zero. He is not you, I must admit. He does not have your bravery, your nobility, your je ne sais quoi, and all he talks about is some magical place called ‘Canada.’ But he is wonderful in his own very special way. And I have you and your fiendish spot-faced cousin to thank for leading me to him. The first time I saw you, I knew you would lead me to greatness. I
just did not understand how.” Philonecron’s head began to twitch as if a fly were buzzing around it. “Ah, I can’t stand it anymore!” Philonecron hoisted the trident again and blasted the wall behind him. A dark spot appeared where the spell had hit, and blackness began to spread through the walls like a stain. Soon the whole room was covered in black marble—except for the missing wall and the blue sky Charlotte has dived into.
Philonecron exhaled. “That’s much better. What did happen there?” he murmured silkily, nodding to the place the wall used to be. “Careless. Well”—he turned back to Zee—“speaking of your cousin, my moment of triumph has arrived. Where is she, off destroying other people’s dreams? Hmmm? Is she planning on swooping in here at the last minute for our final apocalyptic battle?” His voice rose to a screech. “Does she think she is going to stop me? Where is she? I want to squash her like the tacky bug that she is!”
Zee could not fight off the wave of despair that crashed into him. Charlotte was not coming. She was never coming again.
Philonecron’s head snapped toward him. Eyes on fire, he strode up to Zee and grabbed him by the shoulders, staring penetratingly at him. Zee’s stomach turned in revulsion.
Philonecron sucked in air. “No? No!” He tilted his head and watched Zee’s face carefully. “Where is she? Not…dead, is she?” His eyes sparkled as if someone had just told him a most marvelous secret, and his wide mouth turned up in a terrible grin.
Zee tried to keep his face impassive, but it was too hard, too much.
Philonecron threw his head back and cackled. “Dead! Ha! Dead!” He threw his arms up in the air giddily. “Ha ha ha ha ha! Why, it’s too marvelous, too marvelous for words! Tell me,” he breathed, turning back to Zee, “was it painful? Tell me it was painful!”
“No,” Zee hissed, struggling with all his might to say the words. “Stop it.”
“Was it at least slow? Oh, let me believe it was slow.” He squeezed his eyes shut and grinned, as if imagining something most wonderful. “It is too bad, really, for I so would have liked to kill her myself. Ah, well, the Universe does not always make sense. And she fulfilled her purpose, didn’t she? She brought me here. If it weren’t for your cousin I never would have sought the Universe.” He beamed at Zee. “And, Zero, my boy!” He danced over to Zee and grabbed his chin. “Don’t you see? There’s nothing standing between us now! I will take you back into my warm bosom, yes, even after everything! We can be a family again! Really, Zero, there is no joy like the joy of fatherhood!”
Zee narrowed his eyes and, mustering all his strength, spat on Philonecron.
The god yelped and jumped backward. His red eyes narrowed. “That,” he hissed, “is a very expensive dinner jacket. I am very disappointed in you, young man. I know your cousin’s venom is still in you. We will have to find a way to get it out. Now”—he whirled around to Zeus—“as for you, Stormbringer. It is time.”
Zeus was moaning beneath the gag and squirming in his bonds like a kidnap victim in a movie. His behavior did not inspire confidence.
“What is that?” Philonecron said, cupping his hand to his ear. “I can’t understand you. Oh, wait!” He slid over to Zeus and tore off the gag, the force causing the god’s head to bang against the inky wall. “That’s better!”
Zee looked around the room frantically. It was all on him. Everything that had happened—the shadows, Hades’s Palace, the cruise ship, the Flame—it had all led to this. The gods were no help. They could have stopped Philonecron—in the Underworld, after the Underworld, anytime before he got his hands on the trident, on the heir of Zeus. But they didn’t—all they cared about was the two thirteen-year-olds who had dared to interfere with them. Zee wanted to scream at Philonecron, attack him, spit on him some more, but he could not indulge his vengeance. There was nothing else but him between Philonecron and the universe.
Oh, how he wished Charlotte were here.
Zeus’s thunderbolt lay halfway across the room. He didn’t know if he could use it even if he got to it. But he could give it to Zeus. Somehow…He had to be careful; Philonecron had shown in the Underworld that he could control Zee with just his voice; he made him do all kinds of things against his will, and that was not a feeling Zee ever wanted to experience again. Carefully he took a step closer to the artifact.
“You vile, trident-thieving, half-breed scum,” growled Zeus. “You are not worthy of carrying that.”
“Oh? Really? Goodness. That hurts my feelings,” said Philonecron, looking aghast. “Not worthy? That’s too bad, I really wanted to—” He aimed the trident at Zeus. There was a flash of light, and Zeus screamed so loudly it rattled Zee’s soul.
Zee stared at Zeus in horror. His arms were gone. Smoke poured from their stumps.
“There,” said Philonecron, as the ropes bound more tightly around Zeus. “That’s what you get for hurting my feelings. Hard to lose appendages, isn’t it?”
Zeus roared, his face a mask of rage. “You will pay for this, demon! You will not overthrow me. You cannot. There is a way to these things.”
“You’re right, I can’t,” purred Philonecron. “But he can.” He turned and indicated the motionless Steve.
Zeus peered in Steve’s direction. “A mortal boy?” he sneered. “I think not.”
“Oh,” said Philonecron, dancing over to Steve and stroking his hair. The very air in the room was buzzing with Philonecron’s unabashed glee. Zee truly had never seen anyone so happy. “He is not just any mortal, my Lord. Do you remember the Titan’s prophecy?”
Everything grew very still. Zeus’s eyes, which had been a deep black, turned suddenly white.
“Prophecy?” he repeated.
“Yes, you see, I had thought that I would kill you myself, but it is not fated to be. I am not foolish enough to toy with fate. Though you are, aren’t you? You tried to get Prometheus to tell you the name of the son who was destined to overthrow you so you could kill him, but he would not give it. You tortured him on that cliff face for it, but he never wavered. Having an eagle gnaw on his ever-regenerating liver, now, that was very clever”—he raised his hands in Zeus’s direction—“praise where praise is due. But it didn’t work, did it? You never found out. But I did. Zeus, meet your destiny.”
With that, Philonecron touched the trident to Steve. “Wake up, son,” he cooed. “It’s time.” As Steve blinked dumbly, Philonecron tilted his head toward Zeus. “Do you even know him? Do you remember his mother? You don’t, do you, you vile cad. You care nothing for anyone but yourself. Ah, well.” He exhaled philosophically. “The son overthrows the father. Isn’t it always the way of things? Steve is young, of course. He will need someone to help him with the Universe, a mentor of sorts, to show him the way.”
“It will not work,” Zeus breathed. “Not if you’ve enchanted him. Not if it’s not his own will.”
“Oh,” said Philonecron, pacing dramatically, his cape billowing behind him. “It will be. This is a fine young lad, very loyal, as you will see.”
Philonecron was standing between the thunderbolt and Zeus now. There was no way to get it.
Steve’s eyes unclouded, and he began to look around the room. “Wha—what happened? I was—” He looked up at Philonecron, confusion and doubt on his face.
“Oh, nothing, nothing!” sang Philonecron. “Just momentary befuddlement, could happen to anyone, but you’re better now, aren’t you? Now—” He grabbed Steve by the shoulders and steered him to Zeus. “Steve, meet Daddy.”
Silence in the room, thick and expectant. Zeus stared at Steve in utter horror while Philonecron watched rapturously. The Lord of the Universe was terrified. Steve looked at Zeus, disbelief and pain and anger and shock on his face, and Zee took one more step toward the thunderbolt.
“Is it really true?” Steve asked.
“No!” said Zeus quickly.
“Yes,” cooed Philonecron.
“You’re Zeus?” Steve asked.
“No!” said Zeus.
“Oh, yes,”
cooed Philonecron.
Steve gaped at Zeus. “You broke my mom’s heart! You said you would marry her, that you loved her! She gave everything for me, she gave up her life!”
“No,” said Zeus again. “It was not me.”
“Self-centered and a liar, too,” sneered Philonecron. “You won’t even own up to your own son. There is nothing you can do, Zeus. It has been prophesied.” He turned to Steve. “He takes the shape of a mortal, seduces women, leaves them devastated. This is what he did to your mother. Didn’t you always know? Didn’t you know there was something different about you? You know the truth now, don’t you?”
“Yes,” whispered Steve, face flushed, unable to take his eyes off Zeus.
“No!” said Zeus.
Philonecron put his hand on Steve’s shoulder comfortingly. “You poor boy. It must be so hard, imagining someone treating your mother this way. She’s always been sad, hasn’t she? And you never knew why.”
“Yes!” said Steve.
“Yes, yes,” dripped Philonecron. “He hurt her. And she is not alone. A real heartbreaker, that Zeus. He has done the same thing to countless women through history. Used them and discarded them.” Carefully he placed the trident in Steve’s hand. Zee could almost see it humming, still charged with Philonecron’s power.
“Do you know who my mom is?” Steve asked Zeus, his voice trembling.
“Who—?”
“Do you remember her? Do you know her name? Tell me her name!”
“Um…” Zeus’s mouth hung open. “Beverly?”
“NO!” yelled Steve.
“You can do whatever you want to him,” said Philonecron in a low musical voice. “You can turn him into the lizard he is. You are destined to, for abandoned women and sons everywhere. You are their champion. Someone must stop him. You can make the Universe better, Steve.”
Steve was staring at Zeus with a mixture of indignation and contempt. He clutched his hands around the trident as Zeus trembled like a cornered mouse.
“Steve!” said Zeus. “My son! You can rule by my side. And your mother, uh, Melinda!”