by D. S. Murphy
The bright glow of over a hundred campfires revealed striped tents filled with games, cotton candy, balloons and games of skill and chance. It was like a state fair, but enchanted. Some people were dancing, while others were wearing elaborate costumes. There was music, guitars and flutes, but from this high up it was all mixed together – frantic and racing.
I saw more than a few shifters and halfbreeds, letting it all hang out, so to speak. I wondered if wearing a human skin made them feel as uncomfortable as I felt in this dress. Vulnerable, exposed. As my eyes followed another bulky figure with dark fur, I realized I was looking for Sitri. I hadn’t seen him all day, not even at the announcement. Was he out there celebrating with the others? Or had Able sent him on some secret mission without telling me? I’d gotten so used to him being around, his absence felt like a cold empty space at my side.
Fireworks exploded over the trees, and the balcony crowded around me as more guests came out to watch. I used the distraction to sneak towards the exit and duck down the stairs. I’d had enough of Able’s party. I headed towards my room, but stopped in the hallway and knocked timidly on Sitri’s door. When there was no answer I pushed my way inside. It was bare, the tables and counters were cleaned off, and the bed didn’t even look slept in.
“Looking for your boyfriend?” A sharp voice said behind me. I turned to see Mist, with a red fox pelt draped over her shoulders, its teeth bared in a frozen smile. Did she follow me here?
“I was just wondering where he was,” I asked.
“He’s in the doghouse,” she said coyly, “Literally.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He’s not staying in the house anymore,” Mist said, rolling her eyes. The necklace around her neck sparkled when she moved, drawing my eye. In the center was a diamond-studded skull, with antlers framing a crescent moon. “He’s moved out to his shed in the woods. Where he belongs.”
“He moved out?” I said, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. Why would he move out without telling me?
“Thanks,” I said, brushing past her quickly. I crept downstairs and went outside, not bothering to change my clothes. Besides, I’d draw more attention in jeans tonight than I would in my inky black dress. Once outside though, I wished I’d had time to at least change my shoes. I could barely walk in heels on the smooth floor inside the house, I wouldn’t make it far outside. I tucked them in the bushes near the entrance and set off across the grass barefoot. I had to push past the crowds in the garden. Men staggered past me, sloshing their pints of beer. One of them lifted up a woman and pulled her into the shadows for a kiss. The energy was building into a kind of hilarity, but it had a darker, dangerous edge. I was starting to understand what Eligior meant. This was supposed to be a celebration, but after Zeus’s surprise stunt, there was something desperate about it, like people had to have as much fun as possible, because we didn’t know how much time we had left.
Once I reached the trees, I turned back to look over the house and campfires. The full moon washed over the whole field brightly, a giving it a subtle glow. I slipped through the dark spaces between groups of creatures, gathered around the flickering orange light of the campfires. Now the music had turned soft and slow. A few couples were rotating around the dying embers, and moans from the bushes suggested more. Grilled meat was cooking over the coals, smelling of cumin and coriander. I realized I didn’t know exactly where I was going, or what I was looking for. Mist mentioned a shed; I assumed she meant in the camp. It would make sense if he lived out here. But everything looked different at night, and more than once I lost track of the main path. I was about to turn around when a man grabbed my arm. He materialized out of the trees, with a dark mustache and a gold earring.
“Hey there, beautiful,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “Need some company?”
***
His breath was foul. I leaned away, then pulled my arm out of his grasp. I could hear his footsteps behind me and I quickened my pace. We were on a narrow strip of path, shrouded by trees. I didn’t see the second man until I ran into him. He smirked and put his hands on my waist.
“What’s the rush, Darling?” he said. “It’s a celebration. Normally I’d want you all to myself, but tonight I think we can all share.”
“If you don’t get out of my way,” I said, “you’re going to wake up tomorrow with more than a headache.”
“Oh, feisty,” he said. The other man came up behind me. I was about to pull their threads when I noticed another thread, glowing bright yellow in the darkness. I saw a flash of teeth and claws, but then the vision faded.
“Hands off her,” a voice growled. Sitri emerged from the shadows, his eyes burning, his torso bulked out and furry. The men backed off and scurried into the darkness.
“What are you doing out here?” Sitri growled. “It’s not safe.”
“I can handle myself,” I said.
“That’s just what Able needs,” he said, “his secret weapon beating up a couple of visiting seekers.”
“They would have had it coming,” I said, annoyed by Sitri’s attitude. Stupid of me to think he might be happy to see me. “And I’m looking for you. Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”
“I haven’t gone anywhere,” he said.
I crossed my arms and stuck out my bottom lip. He hadn’t shaved, and the thick, coarse stubble around his chin made him look rougher, more dangerous. He sounded angry.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked.
“What? No,” he said. His face softened and for the first time he looked directly at me. The look of anguish there took my breath away.
“Come on,” he said, nodding down the path. “I guess we need to talk.”
It wasn’t exactly a warm invitation, but I followed him anyway. The cabins got sparser as we went further away from the main strip of the camp. They were sprinkled randomly among the trees, like moody beacons shining through the wall of leaves and bark. Eventually the noise from the party faded, until I could hear the sounds of the forest and my own bare footsteps. A bat whizzed by my head. Somewhere nearby an owl hooted, and something rooted around in the dirt, something large. I cursed as I stepped on a sharp branch.
I didn’t see the cabin until we were right next to it, and its dark shape carved out an angle against the starry sky. Sitri flicked on a light and the house came to life; porch lights on either side, thick door knockers in the shape of a wolf’s paw.
Inside, the building was shaped like a large chalet. On the bottom floor was a small kitchen, a long white leather couch and wide-screen TV, and a long wooden table with six chairs. Stairs led to a second level, where I could just see the corner of a bed, a bookshelf, and a skylight.
“This is yours?” I asked, marveling. “I thought you lived in the house?”
“I didn’t always. I’ve been doing grunt work for Able for a long time. I’m the family’s protector, the guard dog – not really a member. Not everyone appreciated my presence; Mist often told me I should sleep outside because I smelled like wet hair.”
“You’re Cerberus,” I said. It sounded ridiculous saying it out loud, but I needed to hear it from him. I still hadn’t had time to process it, and we hadn’t been alone since getting back. I didn’t even know if Zeus was telling the truth, until Sitri nodded.
“What’s left of him,” he said, leaning back on the couch and putting his hands behind his head. “The myths got it wrong of course. It was never a three-headed hellhound. It was just, three of us were all that was left. After Zeus created us, and abandoned us. Most of the others turned wild, consumed each other. Or they were hunted down and destroyed, by hunters or humans.”
“Werewolves,” I said.
“But Able found me. I was younger than the others, still a pup – with my brother and sister. After our parents were killed, slaughtered by Zeus, he took us in, fed us, trained us. But more than that... he loved us. He gave us a purpose.”
“Puriel said something similar,” I said. �
�About being made to serve. He said the torches need purpose, meaning, or they fall apart.”
“Basically,” he said. “The lycanthropes were Zeus’ first army, bred to be loyal and obedient, but we weren’t enough. So he created the hunters – empty shells, that could reflect his divine power like mirrors. More powerful, and more direct. He could execute his will through them, immediately, like having ten thousand finger puppets. So, the wolves were forgotten, then put down. I’m the last one left.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, stepping closer. He clenched his fists and leaned away from me.
“But you’re so valuable,” I said. “I’m sure Able appreciates you.”
“Not at the moment,” he said. “Besides, he’s found a new pet.”
I wondered if he meant Puriel, or Sarah.
“But, we got the shears,” I said. “I couldn’t have done that without you.”
“Don’t you see,” Sitri said, “You had the shears. Zeus was right there. But you hesitated. You didn’t kill him. Because of your feelings for me, feelings you shouldn’t have had. I told you, Able didn’t need to warn me away from you, because he knew I would never betray his trust like that. And then, I did.”
“But, we didn’t do anything,” I said. I knew Zeus wanted to keep me pure, so I could use the shears, but apart from a heated makeout session on Kos, Sitri had been careful to keep his distance.
“It’s not just about your body,” Sitri said. “He wants you to be clear-headed, and ruthless. Do you know why Tori is so dangerous, the most dangerous of all of us? Because she can make people fall in love with her, and love clouds judgment. It makes people foolish and risky, and desperate.”
My cheeks reddened as my brain fixated on the word love.
“It wasn’t just about you,” I said, crossing my arms. “There were thousands of threads. You just didn’t see it.”
“A thousand innocent lives, to take out Zeus?” Sitri scoffed. “Able would have taken that deal in a heartbeat. A hundred thousand. Ten million. There is no price too high – as long as only a few humans are left, it could all be rebuilt. You want to find a solution, a way to untangle the threads, to kill Zeus without collateral damage – but you may never get that chance. Able wants to prepare you, and he says you need to be properly motivated.”
He headed to the fridge and cracked open a brown bottle. He was halfway done with it before he thought to offer me one. I wasn’t a beer fan, but I needed something to do with my hands. I sunk into the low cushioned seat across from the couch and took a sip.
“I’m so tired of people making decisions for me,” I said finally. First my parents, then JDRI, now Able. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually made my own decisions about anything important. Sitri’s dark funk seemed to be spreading.
“So,” I said slowly, “you’re pissed off because, you can’t be with me. Which means, you kind of like me, don’t you?” It was bolder than I felt, but I wanted to get everything out in the open. I could deal with the guy I liked being torn between his duty to Able and his desire for me. My feelings for Sitri could wait, and it was better than being rejected.
“Yeah,” he smiled. “I guess I kind of do.”
I took another sip of beer, then moved closer to join him on the couch. “But it’s not just about that,” Sitri said, hanging his head. “It’s not just about you. All this time I’ve been working for Able, Zeus has never said as much as a word to me. I never thought he could still control me, against my will – not like that. What he did to me, I couldn’t resist him. I could’ve hurt you, or Puriel. I could have ruined everything. I did ruin everything. If it had been just Puriel and you, maybe Zeus would already be dead and the war would be over.”
Then we could be together, I imagined into his thoughts.
“But you didn’t,” I said. “We survived, and we got the shears.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I’ve been tested, and I failed. Now Able questions my loyalty.”
“But that’s not fair,” I said. Sitri smiled sadly.
“You saw the apples today, right? That message had a double meaning. To the fairest, it was a jibe at Able.”
“You’re kidding,” I said.
“Able is the fairest, the most fair. All the other gods believed in might makes right. Able, being less powerful than Zeus, always emphasized equal opportunity. Democratic, libertine ideas. Rule by nomination, instead of tyranny. Dividing up the earth, sky and sea into three kingdoms – that was his idea. It was too slow and calculated for the others, they didn’t have the brain for politics, they never needed it. It’s meant as an insult; Able has to be the fairest, because he’s also the weakest. But it’s not untrue: he doesn’t make emotional choices. He weighs everything out, for the maximum benefit, for everyone. It’s a calculation, and he’s rarely wrong. Which means, if he’s lost trust in me, I am untrustworthy.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” I asked.
“Because, it doesn’t matter how I feel about you, or how you feel about me. It’s not just about us. Not anymore.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Alice said Zeus may not attack for months. Years even. All I know is, I feel good when I’m with you. Can’t I have that, at least? If it’s all ending soon, why not enjoy the small bit of happiness we have now? Even if we can’t, you know.” I gestured with my bottle, and turning away as I felt my cheeks burning.
“There’s something else. Something Able hasn’t told you or the others. He knew it was coming, so he had me monitoring the media.”
He took a remote and flipped on a full panel TV screen. A woman in a white jacket with a blue blouse stood with a microphone in what looked like a hospital. Behind her were rows and rows of little cribs, about half filled with squirming babies.
“Did you wonder why Able didn’t mention the Fates today? Because the death of the Fates has consequences. This fight, it can’t wait years.”
He turned up the volume and I leaned forward to listen.
“Behind me at St. Jude’s Hospital,” the woman said, “the maternity ward is at only half-occupancy, and soon it will be filled with empty beds. It’s been nearly 72 hours since the last reported birth here at the hospital, or – our sources tell us – at any other hospital in the world. The average daily birthright is 360,000. Today that’s dropped to zero. After thousands of heartbreaking stillborns and unexpected pregnancy terminations, the babies in this room might be the last births known to mankind. Until we can find a solution to whatever is happening, these infants could very well be the world’s last humans.”
5
I ran back to the mansion through the woods. Sharp branches tore at my bare feet, but I couldn’t slow down. The Morai were dead, which meant, nobody was there to spin the threads of life or measure their length – roles once resolved for Clotho and Lachesis. That meant no new births. In other words, the end of humanity. And it was all my fault.
Sitri was right. He wasn’t just a potential distraction, for a battle that might never happen. The end of the world had already begun. It was like watching a lit fuse to a firecracker, watching the sparks inch closer. And we’d been celebrating. The house was dark when I arrived. I wanted to pound on doors and shout, but what use would it be? Able already knew, and he’d told no one. He’d let them drink and fuck and play games, when humanity was about to go extinct.
I felt ridiculous now, in my dirty feet and black dress, still wearing the black eyeshadow. All dressed up for ball, presented as a show of power. But it was all a sham. With the Fates gone, we were doomed. I’d only slept a few hours since facing Zeus and claiming the shears, and I was too exhausted to think straight. I decided it was enough for one day. I took a shower, changed into sweats, then collapsed on my bed, passing out before my head hit the pillow.
In the morning, I woke up at dawn and looked for Able immediately. I couldn’t just sit around, relaxing comfortably in this luxurious mansion while Zeus picked off civilians by the dozen. Not magical cre
atures or roots; regular humans. With jobs and families. Picked up by hunters and dropped to their death – to prove a point. That he could get to us... to me. Even though we were safe behind Heph’s protective walls, the rest of the world wasn’t. And it wasn’t just twelve people: it was 360,012; plus the daily death count of 151,600. I’d looked it up. Over half a million people, that’s how many souls we were losing, every day.
“So what’s our plan?” I’d waited down the hall to the dining room, nibbling on a raspberry and white chocolate scone, until Stephanie and Able showed up. I didn’t even know if they ate breakfast, or if all the food was just for me and my human friends, but I nearly accosted them when they came downstairs into the dining room.
Stephanie held up a long, perfectly manicured finger, then took a long, deep sip from her coffee mug.
“Okay, what now?” she asked, blinking and staring at me blankly.
“About the Fates,” I continued. “I saw the news. No new births. It’s because the Fates are dead, right? So how do we fix it?”
I hadn’t told Sarah or Jessie yet. That seemed like too big a conversation to have. It made it all feel more real. I understood why Able didn’t tell me; why he didn’t tell anyone. We’d find out soon enough, and we had enough problems already. But somehow, knowing that no new humans were being born, it felt like the sand was running out of the hourglass. I could almost feel the pressure of all those unborn souls, weighing down on me. Blaming me.
Yesterday was supposed to be a day of hope, of possibility; the illusion that we were safe, at least for now. But Zeus spoiled that anyway with his party trick with the apples. I needed to know we had some kind of a plan.
“You’ll resume training,” Able said, grabbing a handful of cashews from a silver dish on the table.
“Did you hear me? No new births. And Zeus is going to keep killing people until I come out to face him again, either to join him or fight him.”
“You think this is about you?” Stephanie asked.