The Immortal Game

by Talia Rothschild

  Like a blown-out candle, Galene’s aura flooded dark blue. “I’m not exactly here by choice, Chrysander.” She described what happened.

  Kostas watched the shifting colors around Chrysander, analyzing the feelings of sympathy and frustration rolling off him. There was no hint of shock or surprise.

  “Wait.” Braxtus ran a hand through his curls. “You were talking to Chrysander when the beasts were created?”

  Galene nodded. “I was with him at the Northeastern boundary line. We’ve been meeting every new moon since he left,” Galene admitted, toeing the ground.

  Iyana sighed but wasn’t surprised. Galene already told them about her alibi.

  “And you didn’t invite me.” Demitri shook his head at his old friend.

  Chrysander grinned apologetically. “Sorry. But she is my sister, and the meetings were risky enough as it was.”

  “You confirm she was with you that night?” Kostas asked Chrysander.

  “Yes.” The glowing amber sincerity that accompanied those words satisfied him.

  I’m convinced. She’s innocent.

  “But your dagger…,” Braxtus said, “and the vision…”

  Kostas nodded. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  Chrysander shrugged. “For all we know, Apollo could have made up that vision. The Olympians, they … well, you know what I think.” Chrysander closed his eyes and clutched his sister’s hands. “You’re better off here anyway. We’re your family now, Galene”—he turned to the rest of them—“all of you. Come, we’ll take you back to camp. We have hot food and warm tents for you to rest in.”

  Galene nodded her thanks and looked questioningly at the others.

  “This is what we came for, isn’t it?” Demitri grinned and slapped his friend on the back. “Let’s go.” He was all joy, with a smidge of self-satisfaction. Kostas pulled his mouth into a thin line. He probably thinks he’s the reason we found him.

  Iyana followed her best friend and boyfriend. Braxtus gave a sigh, but trailed behind. Taking the horses’ reins, Kostas took up the rear.

  The three other gods Chrysander had come with had lowered their hoods but watched them all warily, glancing frequently at himself and Braxtus. Kostas kept his eyes on them as well. Though their weapons were lowered and their posture casual, he knew these gods were kept away from Olympus for a reason.

  The nine of them wove through thickets and ruins, Kostas’s mind a storm. Galene had been set up. That could be the only explanation. Though Chrysander was clearly not an ally of Olympus, he was truthful. He and Galene had been together while the Decks were stolen. She would not have had time to create the beasts and meet with her brother.

  So someone had stolen one of her daggers and framed her, but Apollo had seen her in the vision.

  None of it sat right with Kostas.

  Through the misty darkness, specks of light began to appear in front of them—campfires and torches. Dozens of tents were set up throughout a large clearing. Fires blazed between each, but the sentries seemed fully at ease. There must have been a vicious territorial claiming—the taraxippi hadn’t bothered the group at all since Chrysander found them.

  Chrysander’s companions stopped at the edge of the camp, taking up their posts. Sentries, Kostas realized.

  Eyes followed them as they were guided through the tents. Gods and goddesses, some Kostas vaguely recognized, wandered throughout the complex, busy with what, he couldn’t imagine. Though the rebels and exiled watched them all, most of their haunted eyes lingered on Galene. Everyone’s emotions stayed mostly between red-orange curiosity and pale turquoise hope.

  Hope, he considered. They probably think we’re joining them.

  Someone intercepted him and offered to take the horses to water and rest. He silently handed the goddess the reins, keeping an eye on where she took them. Chrysander himself led their group toward the back of the complex, where the largest tent now came into view.

  “I must introduce you to someone before we can really catch up.” He pulled back the flap of the tent, disappearing inside.

  Galene swept after her brother, Iyana and Demitri on her heels.

  Braxtus hung back, meeting eyes with Kostas. “Tell me I’m not the only one with a bad feeling about this.”

  Kostas nodded, glancing around. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”

  They entered the tent.

  Furs and fabrics hanging from the ceiling split the space into compartments. Even though the main area was smaller and the floor covered, it wasn’t anything Kostas would have described as cozy. The colors were dark and there were few comforts.

  A single chair was placed against the far canvas. In it sat a stunning, forbidding goddess draped in purple robes. Her flawless pale skin looked to be carved from stone. Unnaturally silky, ink-colored hair fell around her shoulders and arms. Black eyes ringed with long lashes stared at them, but the aura around her was one of pleasure and surprise.

  “Well, Chrysander.” The woman’s full lips curled up in a smile. “How ever did you manage to get her here?”

  Chrysander bowed. “Galene, this is the commander of our movement, Poinê, Goddess of Retribution.”

  A shock ran up Kostas’s back. Goddess of Retribution.

  Poinê had been exiled for a serious revolt. Though the Olympians couldn’t retract immortality, her temples, both in the human cities and on Olympus, had been destroyed.

  Galene nodded at Poinê, caution in her aura.

  “She has been forced off the mountain, wrongly accused of causing great destruction on Olympus.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that you’re not responsible, but unsurprised that you were framed.” Her voice was sickly sweet, and she closed her eyes, shaking her head in supposed remorse, but her aura showed no sign of pity or sympathy. “Hopefully, my dear, you will now be able to see what your brother and I have been trying to accomplish out here. Perhaps, after Chrysander explains a bit more, you will also be willing to join us. And who are”—she dragged her eyes across the five of them—“the rest of you?”

  “Demitri Unnamed.” He stepped forward.

  Poinê’s focus seemed to sharpen as she appraised him. “We do not use that term here, Demitri. It was established by the Olympians as a way to elevate themselves.”

  Demitri nodded slowly. “I am Demitri, Son of Ares.”

  “Welcome,” she said softly, turning her eyes on Iyana.

  “Iyana, Daughter of Zeus.” She took Demitri’s hand. “We chose to exile ourselves with Galene to protest the injustice.”

  Braxtus cast Kostas a wary look. “Braxtus, Son of Apollo.”

  Poinê’s eyes turned to Kostas, and he returned her gaze calmly. “Kostas, God of Games.”

  “An Immortal.” She cocked her head, a flicker of maroon suspicion rippling around her.

  “Like yourself,” he returned with a small smile.

  “And why are you two here?”

  They’ll never let us go if they think we can return and report them to the Olympians. “Braxtus chose to exile himself as well, and I left without any favor in the eyes of the Olympians. Even on Olympus, there is much unrest about how things are run. We joined the others later due to an injury Braxtus attained during the attack.”

  To their credit, no one showed the surprise or admiration he could see in their auras.

  Poinê paused. “Well then, I am glad you are here. I’m sure you will all be great assets to our cause.”

  Chrysander nodded, a satisfied smile on his face, aura now reflecting Poinê’s pleasure. “With your permission, I will take them to settle in for the night. They’ve had a long journey.”

  Poinê nodded, eyes sliding back to Galene. “I am sure. I trust, Chrysander, you will keep them out of trouble. For your own safety, my friends. As you know, this is dangerous territory.”

  “Of course. Thank you.” He bowed again and turned to exit the tent.

  Galene kept her eyes on the goddess, giving the smallest dip of her head, befo
re turning after her friends. Kostas waited for her at the entrance, getting one more look at the Goddess of Retribution. Her eyes were fixed on his, her aura calm as ice.

  The canvas flapped shut behind them.

  Chrysander and Demitri took the lead, an old friendship instantly renewed.

  Kostas strode beside Galene, analyzing her downturned eyes and muted orange aura. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  Galene blinked up at him. After a moment she turned forward again. “I’m nervous to hear what Chrysander has to say. What are you thinking?”

  Caught slightly off guard by the return of his question, he hesitated. “I … am still taking in everything.”

  “There’s a lot to sift through. I imagine you’re still wondering about my part—how much of this is my fault.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “I am sorry for what happened, especially to Braxtus.”

  Despite everything that has happened to her, she still shows only sincerity and kindness. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I believe you.”

  Her aura flared with surprise, then melted into the light colors of gratitude and relief. “Thank you, Kostas. That means a lot.” She glanced away, but not before he caught the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

  His footsteps faltered. He reached for her, then stopped himself. Galene cannot spend the rest of her life with Olympus’s condemnation.

  He cleared his throat as she dashed away the tears. “It is quite the mystery, though. Which intrigues me. There’s not much I wouldn’t do to solve a good riddle.”

  She pulled her mouth to the side. “My life isn’t a game, Kostas.”

  “Everything is a game, Galene.” He raised his eyebrows. “But believe me when I say, I do not take any of this lightly.”

  He watched her think through that, appreciating her careful consideration.

  Chrysander led them to a bonfire where sizzling meats roasted and incredible smells rose from a steaming pot of stew.

  “Refreshment as promised. I’ll have some wineskins brought, but for now, sit and rest.”

  Braxtus didn’t wait before sinking onto one of the logs circling the fire. Demitri and Iyana sat opposite him, Demitri seeming completely at ease, joyful to be reunited with his friend. Kostas took a seat beside Braxtus, and Galene settled herself between him and Iyana. After Chrysander made the request for wine, he walked around, ruffling Galene’s wavy hair before sitting next to Demitri.

  Beside the fire was a stack of bowls, which he began to pass around, and by the time the stew was ladled out the wineskins had arrived.

  “Thank you for your hospitality, Chrysander,” Galene said. “I knew we would be able to stay with you for a few days while we decide on what to do next.”

  “Why not just stay here? Now, Galene,” he hurried on, “before you say anything, let me tell you exactly what we’re planning.”

  Galene shifted uncomfortably. “Say your piece.”

  “For the benefit of everyone”—Chrysander looked around—“I’ll start from the beginning.

  “The Twelve Olympians were once the only gods the humans worshipped. They were all-powerful, all-encompassing. But naturally, as they had children, there became more deities to ask for guidance, other gods and goddesses to send sacrifices and payments to. Power began to slip away from the Twelve, and they have taken action to steal it back.

  “I saw it years ago. I requested audience after audience with the Olympians to improve things for the Unnamed. I tried to get better mentors for us to train for our Trials, more supervised outings from Olympus, better weapons … When those requests were brushed aside, I started gathering others to petition against the Olympians. When the Twelve got wind of it, those meetings were forcibly shut down, and I was punished for ‘disrespecting authority.’” His eyes darkened. “I began to explore and study and quest as much as I could, trying to train myself to be stronger against them, but there is only so much you can do within the boundaries of Mount Olympus. I was considering running when…” He faltered, dark, painful blue smothering his aura. “The unthinkable happened.”

  “Telamon,” Galene murmured.

  Chrysander nodded. “He was a gifted son of Dionysus. He was … my friend. They didn’t stop his Immortality Trial when things went badly, and he didn’t make it out of the arena alive.” Red anger sparked. “I left the next day. To see if anyone out here would listen. Here, I found my people.”

  Kostas looked around at the gods and goddesses settling in their own groups around the campfire. Beneath dark auras, they looked weathered, eyes continually shifting, seemingly permanent scowls on their faces. None of them looked like allies he would want to keep.

  “I found Poinê, and together, we began planning for the new future of Olympus.” He leaned forward. “The Olympians’ regime must come to an end.”

  Iyana’s and Braxtus’s jaws dropped. Galene pressed a hand to her face, and he felt her frustration, her patience shaking.

  Chrysander’s aura radiated confidence.

  “Why do you think that you and this Goddess of Retribution will be better rulers than the Twelve?” Kostas kept his voice calm and flat, simply a question out of curiosity.

  “If you promise to hear me out until I’ve finished speaking, I’ll tell you everything you wish to know.”

  Five pairs of eyes moved to look at Galene. Hers stayed fixed on Chrysander, aura simmering gray with worry, but she nodded at him to go on.

  “We have found a way to retrieve the avyssos.”

  13

  GALENE

  Silence fell.

  Galene gaped at her brother, unsure if she’d heard him right. “The … the avyssos?”

  Chrysander held up a hand. “You promised to let me finish.”

  Though a feeling of foreboding ran through her, Galene pressed her mouth shut.

  “Leading through the Aegean Sea is a trail of markers, directing those who follow it through tests and trials meant only for an Olympian to pass. At the end of the trail is the avyssos. All of you know what it is, yes?”

  “I’ve heard the name,” Iyana murmured.

  “It’s an orb with the power to draw gods and goddesses in. To draw anything in: people, creatures, objects…” Braxtus kneaded his knuckles on his forehead. “The avyssos keeps them captive inside, preserved. Only the person who holds the avyssos, with the knowledge of how to open it, has control over what goes in or out.”

  “It keeps things inside of itself. So it’s large?” Iyana asked.

  Braxtus shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. No one really knows where they go. They’re just … drawn in because of the avyssos’s power. So maybe it’s a gateway to a place only the avyssos can reach.” He dropped his hand and looked around. “It doesn’t matter. Either way, when its power is directed at someone, they vanish. They can be held captive for eternity.”

  Chrysander nodded. “This is the key to everything we hope to achieve.”

  Galene clenched her fists in her lap.

  “You’re going to trap the Olympians inside,” Kostas said gravely, voicing her thoughts.

  “That’s not all.” Chrysander smiled. “The Olympians used to use the avyssos for crowd control, when there were too many monsters running rampant. They trapped hordes of them. Now they only use it on occasion, when there’s a god or a beast that poses a real threat to the humans. So within the avyssos is an army of Olympus’s enemies. Poinê and I will release those who pledge to fight, and together, we will lead them in an assault of the mountain. Then, when we’ve captured all who oppose us, Poinê will set a new rule over the world.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Braxtus demanded.

  Chrysander ignored him and turned to Galene, eyes shining. “Galene, it will be a rule of balance and freedom, where no one is pushed down because they have potential for power. And when we have taken the mountain, you and I can return. We can build our temples! Travel the world as Gods of the Sea. We will be worshipped and loved!”

  He sound
ed giddy, almost drunk on the thought. But Galene’s imagination tumbled with visions of a battle, the downfall of her home, their parents and leaders. Even if they could return, what would they return to? What would the world look like after that?

  “And now that you’re here,” he went on, “you can help us get it.”

  She straightened. “What?”

  “Galene, you are one of our father’s most powerful children. You have been given power over tides and the ability to breathe water. Reaching the avyssos will be easy for you.”

  “Why can’t you go?” Braxtus asked. “You’re a son of Poseidon and Amphitrite, too.”

  Chrysander shook his head. “My power is limited to drawing water from the earth. I can’t even do anything with it once it’s there. And not all the children of Poseidon can breathe water. It’s a rare gift.”

  “You said there were tests and trials only an Olympian could get through.” Demitri watched his friend with unreadable eyes.

  Chrysander leaned forward. “Yes, but only Poseidon is truly meant to be able to reach it. Galene, with you we could achieve everything we’ve dreamed and planned within the month.”

  Even as he spoke, Galene shook her head. “How could you think I would ever agree to this? That I would join you in”—she struggled with the words—“destroying Olympus!”

  “We’ll rebuild it better!”

  “You’re talking about killing gods and goddesses, about trapping the Olympians for eternity—”

  Chrysander shot to his feet. “About restoring justice!”

  “Are the Olympians so unjust you feel the need to overthrow them?” Galene raised her voice to match his. Nearby gods turned to stare, muttering.

  “You’re saying they were right to exile you for the crime you didn’t commit?”

  “No, but—”

  “Have you considered it was them that set you up? They’re growing more desperate, cheating us out of what we rightfully deserve!”

  Galene threw her hands up. “They did not set me up. And even if they did, do you realize what would happen if the Olympians were gone? Have you thought about it? The seas would rage, storms would ravage the land. Earthquakes and volcanoes would tear this earth apart. Do you have people with power enough to keep this planet in check? Do you have people to take over every facet of each Olympian’s power? Poseidon: God of the Sea, Earthquakes. Apollo: God of the Sun, Prophesy, Healing. Athena: Wisdom, Warfare, Strategy. And that’s not close to all they do and represent.