by D. S. Murphy
“You were so innocent,” he said, lowering his voice and stepping closer. “So frail and helpless, yet you stood up to me to save your friend. Unarmed, unadorned. It disarmed me completely.”
“Look!” Sarah said, stepping between us and breaking the tension. She was waving a thin staff like a baton. One end held an elongated glass tube, with two twisting coils inside. The other end was a tapered spear, almost a foot long.
“She’s here for protection, not to fight,” I said, frowning.
“It’s just decorative,” Heph said. “Look, I added a rubber tip to the end. It’s as blunt as a walking stick. Plus, check this out.” He rearranged Sarah’s fingers to touch small metal pads on the staff, and the bulb crackled to life, with twin arcs of raw electricity.
“Wow,” she said, waving it in front of her like a lightsaber.
“It’s symbolic,” Heph said. “For hope. Inspiration. Nobody actually thinks Sarah is going to lead our troops. It uses static electricity, and pulls out just enough energy to light the bulbs. But only when she touches it.”
“And this is for you,” Able said, handing me Athena’s staff. It was heavier than I remembered. I looked up the shaft at the golden owl, spreading its wings into a wide circle, and framed by olive branches. While Sarah’s short staff came up to her nose, mine was so long and tall I had to be careful walking through doors. As if I didn’t feel awkward enough already. I was surprised Able hadn’t given me the golden shears to hold. Surely that was a more powerful, and more suitable weapon for me. Puriel’s comments about me being dangerous rang in my ear. I wondered if Able was more afraid of me than of Puriel. But whatever. It was his pageant.
“Friends,” Able said, holding up his palms to the crowd. He spoke quietly, but his voice boomed through the compound. I wondered if Heph had set up some kind of broadcast system, or if Able’s natural power did the trick.
Able had no need for a weapon or show of force. He radiated power. Stephanie stood on his left side, wearing a dark veil that hid her face, and he’d positioned Puriel directly to his right. I was surprised to see the elevated state. I looked around for Sitri, but he wasn’t on the balcony with the rest of the family.
I knew how powerful they were, and I wondered if the others could sense it, too. The lesser heirs and roots, they must know, they know magic. For the seekers and humans, this was a rare experience. They were literally in the presence of gods – and not just one, but several. This much energy, in one place. I could feel it. A low key hum, a tingling on my skin and the back of my neck.
“We welcome you to Nevah,” Able continued. “Some of you, over the centuries, have criticized this stronghold. Still, you are welcome. You have called me and my family cowards, for disappearing, for locking ourselves away, while magic was systematically purged, desecrated, destroyed. Those of you we have saved, the torches you see here – once part of our common enemy – earned their place by their refusal to do his will, his bidding. Now you’re here as well. Some by choice, others by necessity. You are here for protection, but you worry about the terms of your sanctuary. I will have you know, you have not traded one dictator for another; nor the threat of death for a peaceful tyranny. Here, you are not only safe, you are free.”
There was a shift in the crowd, and murmurs. I knew what they were thinking. Were we really free, or imprisoned on Able’s estate?
“But freedom does not come without a price. I have heard the whispers. I know some of you doubt whether Zeus’s forces can be defeated. But we have not been sulking or licking our wounds, cowering before my brother’s might, unable or unwilling to take a stand. We have spent centuries developing strategies and weapons strong enough to defeat Zeus, so that when the day comes, we have a chance at survival. That day is today, and we have not one, but three weapons of unimaginable power.”
He swept his hands towards us, and I felt thousands of eyes study my appearance. I wondered if he meant the weapons Puriel, Sarah and I were holding, or if we were the weapons. He didn’t clarify. I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, hoping I looked more confident than I felt.
“Already, Athena has been defeated.” A ripple swept through the crowd, along with gasps of surprise. Apparently not everybody had heard the news. Able held up one hand for attention, and the whispers ceased.
“You will see that we don’t expect you to fight this battle for us. The battle has already begun, and the first victory was ours. The death of Athena was a decisive blow. Zeus is brash and powerful, but strategy and planning was always left to his favorite daughter. Without her, he will be reckless and irritable. We will not be. Our strength lies in our unity, and our common aims – to preserve magic, not just for ourselves, but for the world, and to bring about a future where every being is accepted, and free.”
I searched his face for double meanings or treachery, but his calm inspired confidence. And I couldn’t find fault with his speech. Freedom from persecution, the freedom to be ourselves, without needing to fight for the privilege every day? Who wouldn’t want that? The crowd below seemed to agree. Shouts and applause from the crowd had become a roar, washing over us like a soft wave. They shook their weapons towards the twilight sky – I could see Venus shining brightly on the orange horizon, which faded upwards into a cloudy purple. Movement caught my eyes and I focused on a flock of birds coming towards us. Something was wrong about the way they were moving. It was too rigid, too uniform. And they sparkled, like mirrors reflecting the fading light.
“Hunters!” I shouted, pointing towards them.
A shadow crossed Able’s face. He seemed more annoyed by my interruption than the fact of an imminent attack by Zeus’s forces. Gasps came from the audience as a shadow fell over us. The swarm of hunters were a black cloud that blocked out the sky. I bit my lip as they got closer, there were thousands of them, more than I’d ever seen in one place.
Shouts turned into screams, and I could see the seekers pushing back towards the forest for cover. The roots shifted uncomfortably, holding their weapons tightly. Only the heirs seemed undisturbed.
“They can’t hurt us,” Heph said under his breath. “If they get past the boundary, they’ll be cut off from Zeus’s power and fall like stones. Even if they survived the fall, they’d be disoriented and easy to kill.”
“He’s not trying to hurt us,” Able said, “He just wants to remind us that he’s there. It’s a display, to weaken our resolve.”
“They’re holding something,” Sarah said quietly, pointing up. I squinted, and could just make out pairs of hunters holding some kind of bundle between them. I gasped when they started to fall and I realized what they were from their flailing arms and legs. Corpses. It was raining corpses.
One of them fell just past us, its white eyes peering up at me, then smashed on the stones below the balcony with a sickening squelch. It was holding something shiny in its mouth. Sam raced down and came back holding a golden apple, and handed it to Able. A note was tucked inside the hollow core, sealed with red wax.
“To the fairest,” Able read out loud, after breaking the seal and unrolling the scroll.
“What’s it mean?” Sarah asked.
“It means conflict, division and strife,” Stephanie answered, raising her veil. “And also, time for dinner.”
4
“It’s just an old joke,” Dion said, sinking into the sofa. “And a bad one.”
Able had dismissed his audience, and a row of torches framed the main entranceway to the mansion holding enchanted lamps to light the path. I could see guests lining up downstairs, while we retreated to the drawing room and closed the doors.
“This is no joke,” Jessie said through clenched teeth. She’d been waiting for us inside, and sat next to Sarah. “Those are people out there. Were people, at least.”
“A dozen,” Mist said. With her leather pants and the longbow strapped to her back, she looked like some kind of pirate assassin. “More humans die every year by penguin attacks. Tens of thousands die each da
y of natural causes. Twelve dead, it’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” I said. “It’s a warning. Zeus is telling us, maybe he can’t hurt us, but the rest of civilization is still vulnerable. Today it’s twelve. Tomorrow it could be twelve thousand.”
“But why the apples?” Sarah asked with round eyes. Sarah, who’d always been tough and stoic, even though her face had aged, somehow her expression was more vulnerable than I’d ever seen it. And I understood why. Those weren’t warriors. They just looked like regular people, probably picked off the street at random from the nearest small town. Someone’s mother, or father. My heart broke thinking about the empty dinner tables, waiting for them to come home. Maybe calling the police. A man search. But they’d never find them, never have closure. Their bodies would stay in Nevah and rot; whisked over to a supernatural world they never knew existed, meaningless casualties in a divine war between ancient gods.
“Have you ever heard of the Apple of Hesperides?” Sam asked.
I shook my head.
“A long time ago, there was a wedding. Most of the gods were invited, but not everyone. One of the slighted lesser deities wanted to spoil the ceremony, so she played a trick. She tossed a golden apple into the middle of the party with a note, for the fairest. It’s basically where the wedding tradition comes from – only now the bride throws a bouquet, and the one to catch it will be the next to marry. But at the time, the gods were proud and ruthless; always looking for an opportunity to show off our strength. So when the apple came in, all the women competed for it, until the three strongest were left.”
“Hera, Athena, and me,” Tori said, taking over the story with a wry smirk. “I mean, even if it was meant as a joke, I think it’s clear the apple was mine. Hera’s a mother, not a model. Athena was more striking than beautiful – all hard lines and angles. The only goddess who deserved that apple was me, but Hera always feels left out of everything, and is determined to make herself feel validated by injecting herself into every story. She probably thought Zeus would back her and she’d win unfairly. And Athena just hates losing, at anything. She thought she could trick us or manipulate the vote somehow, I’m sure.”
She crossed her legs, showing off an obscene amount of smooth dark thighs, and I noticed the bright fuchsia of her heels matched the shade of her lipstick.
“But Zeus refused to comment, and instead passed us off to a prince of Troy. Each of us promised him gifts – Hera, a kingdom, Athena, wisdom – which just shows how little they knew about beauty. Beauty isn’t something useful or practical, desire for something to be used to another end or true desire. Sexual desire is to be consumed in the object of the beloved, to extinguish oneself, not to enhance oneself.”
“So what did you offer?” Jessie asked. “Yourself?”
I gasped, then kicked her under the table. I couldn’t believe Jessie would be so bold, but Tori didn’t seem upset by the comment.
“Of course not,” Tori said, flicking her hair back. “When mortals look at me, they are spoiled to the world; they’ll search the world for a beauty as fine as mine, and never be satisfied. And to actually touch me, they’d be driven mad with desire. I wanted to reward him, not punish him. So I offered him the most beautiful human woman in the world.
“Helen,” I said, putting the pieces together. “Helen of Troy. But she was already married. When Paris took her from her husband, it started the Trojan War.
“All of that, because of an apple?” Sarah asked.
“It’s not about the apple,” Able said. “It’s about discord. The conflict was already there, the apple just brought it to the surface. Zeus thinks he can create discord among us, like a worm in an apple, by dividing us. We just have to show him we can’t be so easily manipulated.”
“Then let’s not keep our guests waiting,” Stephanie interrupted. “We don’t want to be late to our own party.”
I was jealous of Jessie’s casual attire, and itching to get out of the black dress, but there was no time to change. Plus, I knew Able wasn’t done showing us off yet. I followed the others downstairs, my eyes going wide as we entered a ballroom I hadn’t even seen before. The high ceilings and crystal chandeliers made us feel like we were stepping back in time. The ceiling and walls were decorated with bright flowers and cherubs. Rows of windows were set into evenly spaced alcoves and fringed with ostentatious gold decoration; each with its own small bench looking out towards the gardens. At least there was food – long tables filled with every kind of delicacy I could imagine.
“I’m changing my mind about this whole banquet thing,” Jessie said, grabbing a sticky piece of baklava with her fingers. I didn’t know if we should expect another dinner, so I piled up my plate with shrimp rolls and fried chicken. Apparently, Able wanted everyone to feel at home, so there was local cuisine from all corners of the world. Sarah and I found a table near the corner. I’d just finished eating when I noticed Eligior and Puriel standing against the wall awkwardly, more like they were on guard duty than at a party. Puriel had changed his fancy battle armor into a more boring tuxedo.
“Hi,” I said as I approached them. “Did you want something to eat, or drink?” I didn’t actually know what torches ate. Sintri told me once they preferred simple fare, for nourishment but not pleasure – at least they were supposed to. But Puriel wasn’t really a torch anymore, and I’d watch him scarf down three bowls of cereal when we were holed up in that abandoned house.
They both shook their heads. Jessie joined us, then grabbed two glasses of champagne off a passing tray and handed one to me.
“When was the last time they opened the ballroom up?” she asked.
“Able said centuries ago,” I said.
“Were you here then?” Jessie asked.
Eligior smiled sadly, “This is the first time I’ve been in the house.”
“Wait, really?” my eyes widened. “What about during the attack, when the hunters were here?”
“Torches can only enter in an emergency, or when summoned. The heirs are more than capable of taking care of themselves. Things got more complicated once you and your friends started staying there. You’re much more fragile than we’re used to. It put Able on edge, and he told me to keep the guards on high alert.”
“But normally, the main house is off limits. I believe this rule is true for roots and lesser heirs as well; most go no further than the lower floors. The upper areas are strictly forbidden.”
“Then, why now?” Jessie asked. “What changed?”
“You did,” he said, nodding at me. “Things are changing, because of you.”
I blushed, tightening my grip on my champagne glass.
“Look over there, humans,” he said, pointing towards a group of seekers. I noticed Taylor and Maddie, and waved at them from across the room. They looked out of place, compared to the finery of the other magical creatures. Maddie’s dress had patches on it, and her shoes were scuffed. Taylor wore his nicest flannel and jeans.
“They’re our friends,” I said, frowning. I didn’t like to think about them being judged for their appearance. “We invited them.”
“Still, it’s different,” Eligior said. “Mingling, different species and races. It’s disorderly. Though I mean no disrespect.”
“Not everyone is happy about it, I heard,” Jessie said, nodding towards a group of lesser heirs in the corner. They looked like aristocrats, with regal bearing, and fine clothes, but I knew they lived out in the camp, like everyone else.
“It will take adjustment,” Eligior said. “The social hierarchy at Nevah is fragile. Things always shift with newcomers, proving their place and their worth, vying for attention. But an influx like this – so many new people, and humans are so volatile anyway.”
“Watch who you’re calling volatile, old man,” Jessie said.
“Unpredictable,” Eligior amended.
“Well, I hate to disappoint,” Jessie said, grabbing Puriel’s hand and pulling him towards the dance floor. There were on
ly a few couples dancing, something that looked like a waltz. I laughed as Jessie positioned Puriel in the center of the floor and started doing erratic moves around him. I was pretty sure she learned them from an old movie we used to watch at JDRI.
I’d never seen Puriel look more awkward, but he seemed to relax as more couples joined in, and started moving his feet back and forth. More seekers hit the dance floor as the music picked up the pace, and I even saw Sam and Sarah rocking back and forth in the crowd. They were nearly the same height, and looked like siblings. Sam was wearing a blue shirt that matched Sarah’s dress, just as my dark dress had matched Puriel’s earlier. Able really had thought of everything.
Twenty minutes later, the music shifted to a slow ballad, and I saw Sarah look up at Sam, before resting her head on his shoulder. She was a teenager now, I realized, her hormones must be going crazy. I wondered if she knew what he was, and how old. I’d have to talk with her later about managing expectations. But tonight, I was just glad she was having fun. I was on my second glass of wine, and my cheeks were warm, so I headed towards the veranda. On the way outside, I passed the group of heirs Jessie had pointed out earlier. I paused in the doorway when I heard what they were talking about.
“Can we even trust the refugees?” One said, waving his hand. “They could be anyone. How do we know some of these people aren’t working for Zeus directly, as spies?”
I resisted the urge to toss the rest of my glass in his smug face. I probably would have, but my feet were starting to hurt in these stupid heels. I went to the edge of the balcony and took them off, feeling the cool stone below my bare feet and looking out at the transformed landscape.