by D. S. Murphy
“Don’t you have anything less conspicuous?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the sports car.
“It’s black. It’s fast. What more do you want?”
“Nevermind, let’s just go.”
Sitri pushed 80 on the way to my parent’s house, hugging the curves of the road smoothly. Pine trees flew past us. It reminded me of the first time he picked me up, when Puriel was chasing us on a bike with a flaming sword. Now he was squeezed awkwardly in the backseat.
Forty minutes later, we pulled up across the street from what used to be my parent’s house. My house—the only home I’d ever known, apart from a juvenile detention facility, and a mansion full of Greek gods.
The lights were off.
“You think everyone’s asleep?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” Sitri said, nodding to a boarded-up window. “Looks like it hasn’t been lived in for awhile.”
That’s when I noticed the peeling paint on the walls, and the long, uncut grass in the front yard. I’d always imagined strangers living in my house after my parents moved away, but it was even worse seeing it abandoned like this.
Sitri check the perimeter and I heard the sound of breaking glass. A moment later, he opened the front door and gave us a stiff bow, like he was welcoming us home. Inside was completely empty, apart from a layer of dust. No furniture. Even the light fixtures had been removed. Tangled wires spilled from holes in the walls.
Sitri turned on a flashlight and pointed it towards the stairs. I climbed slowly, my hand on the rail. It was surreal to think that the last time I went up these stairs, I was half as tall. Could the shears really still be here, after all this time? I pushed the door open to my bedroom. It was so dark I could barely see the floor until Sitri shone his light inside. I remembered what I’d seen in the dream, how the room lit up when I was looking for the scissors, and I tried to picture the shears in my mind. Nothing happened.
“I’m here,” I said, to no one in particular. “I need the shears, the golden scissors. I’m ready for them now.”
“Maybe there’s a secret password,” Puriel said.
“Only those who live without can look within,” I said. “Look beneath.”
Still nothing.
Then I unfocused my eyes, the way I’d learned to do to see the threads, and saw the subtle golden glow beneath the floor, just like my dream.
“They’re here,” I breathed, scarcely believing it. I’d travelled all the way around the world, to find out that the scissors had been with me my whole life.
“Show me,” Sitri said. I pointed with my foot at the floorboards in the center of the room. He pulled a hunting knife out of his coat pocket and dug it into the narrow gap between boards, until he could pry one up. The old nails gave way with a screeching noise that made my skin crawl.
And then, there they were. A pair of golden scissors, about seven inches long. The onamentation engraved on the surface sparkled under the flashlight. Neither of us moved for a long moment, and then I kneeled down and reached for them with shaking hands. That’s when the house exploded like a pinata.
***
The walls and ceiling eviscerated like they were put in a blender, until I was standing on a raised platform, surrounded by sawdust and pieces of what used to be the furniture. I shouted as Puriel and Sitri were flung backward by the tempest. They clung to the exposed edges of the floor as the storm raged.
And then the wind was still, and in front of me was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was strong and well-built, with the light fuzz of a golden beard and perfect hair that framed his face like a work of art. It wasn’t until he opened his mouth that I realized it was Zeus.
“That’s far enough,” he said. He grabbed my arm and ripped me away from the shears. I winced in pain as he twisted my arms behind my back. Sitri pulled out his pistols and tried to get a shot. Puriel dove for the shears and pulled them out of the floor.
“Down, or she dies,” Zeus roared. Sitri put his guns down relunctantly and Puriel lowered his golden weapon.
“Very good, Puriel,” Zeus said. “You always were one of my finest warriors. Bring those here please, before you hurt someone.”
I watched as Puriel’s feet started moving towards Zeus. His face contorted, like he was trying to stop himself. He clenched his fists when he was halfway across what used to be my room.
“Don’t be stubborn,” Zeus said. “You wanted redemption, didn’t you? Bring me the shears, and I grant it. You’ll be captain of my army. Do you remember what it feels like, to be filled with my glory? Here, have a taste.”
Puriel’s body flooded with blue energy. For a second, his face lit up with pure bliss. When it was gone again, he stumbled, gasping for breath.
“Don’t you want to feel that way all the time?” Zeus asked. “Powerful. Confidant. You don’t have to live this way, anymore, as this thing. Filled with doubt and desire. Come back to me, and you’ll never have to feel pain again.”
Puriel was bent over, breathing heavily. When he raised his head again, he caught my eye. I could have sworn I saw him wink at me.
He continued towards us, holding the scissors out towards Zeus’s outstretched hand. At the last moment, however, he tossed the shears to me. I pushed off of Zeus and grabbed the shears in mid-air. They lit up in my hands, glowing with power.
“Do it!” Sitri yelled.
I whirled around, searching desperately for Zeus’s thread. But when I finally found it, I didn’t understand the tangle of knots that I was seeing. Thousands of threads had been tied around Zeus’s. One of them led straight to Sitri.
“What are you waiting for?” Sitri growled. “Kill him!”
“I told you, I took precautions,” Zeus said, laughing at my hesitation. “You saved his life, by joining it to mine. And your feelings for him now protect me.”
“What did you do?” Sitri asked, his face paling.
“You were dying,” I said, my eyes brimming with tears. “It was the only way to save you.”
“A little trick I picked up in Mesopotamia,” Zeus said with a smug expression. “A charming spell, that links a person’s destiny with my own. They live out their natural timespan—it doesn’t increase the length of the thread—but it does make them much harder to kill. I’ve been doing it for years, and I’ve saved countless lives. If you kill me now, they will all die instantly, Sitri included.”
I looked again at Zeus’s thread, knotted and tangled with thousands and thousands of others. It would take years to untangle them all.
“Seriously,” Zeus said, “I’m a little disappointed. Humans are so predictable. So weak, in their concern for one another. Did he even tell you who he really is? Why don’t we show her, hmm boy?”
Sitri’s face contorted, and he doubled over in pain.
“Do it!” he yelled. “Cut his thread, now!”
Sitri’s muscles bulged, and his fingernails turned to long, dark claws.
“You’ve heard of Cerberus, I presume?” Zeus asked
“The three headed hound of Hell?”
“The hound of Hades,” Zeus corrected. “Though the story has been confused. They only have one head each, and they’re not exactly hounds. Before I decided to clean up my image, I was sometimes known as Zeus Lykaios. Do you know what that means?”
I shook my head.
“A long time ago, when I was much, much younger, one of favorite temples was on the slopes of Mount Lykaion—wolf mountain. The tallest peak in Arcadia. Each year we held a grand festival, and out of the ephebes who worshipped me, I chose one to serve me. I gave them strength, speed, ferocity and fidelity. All the traits of a good watchdog.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Sitri growled. Gray hair sprouted over his arms and back, and his teeth were long and pointed.
“They guarded my temples, and tore out the throats of anyone who challenged me. But I got bored,” Zeus said. “They were too wild, too animalistic. When I started over with the hunters, I put them down.
”
“You slaughtered them,” Sitri snarled.
“Three escaped,” Zeus said, “and my brother took them in. Able’s first guardians were my rejects. The runts of their litter. Sitri is the last one left. And even though he hates me, he can’t help but obey me. I trained him too well.”
“I’m sorry,” Sitri said, sinking onto all fours. “I thought I could resist him.”
“This is what’s going to happen,” Zeus continued. “You’re going to kill Able and join me. We will usher in a new era, and all the warring nations shall bow in perfect obedience to the rule of one god.”
“Why would I ever do that?” I asked.
“Because you’ve been lied to, and you’re smart enough to choose the right side,” Zeus said. “Let me tell you a story, about how it was before the war. One time a woman named Niobe made a joke at a party, that she was superior to Leto, because she had fourteen children, while Leto had only carried two—Apollo and Artemis. When the twins learned of this insult, they flew to earth and killed Niobe’s children. When her husband Amphion tried to avenge his children’s death, they killed him as well, and left the bodies unburied for nine days.”
“After Niobe lost her whole family, she came to me, in deep anguish, and asked me to end her suffering. It moved something inside me. That’s when I knew that things had to change. Humans looked to us for justice, and we were cruel. They needed something better to believe in. So I improved my act. Forgiveness instead of punishment. But it only works if there are no other gods to distract them. Otherwise it would be chaos, everyone just worshipping the god that offered them the most benefits. It would be a marketplace, not a religion. But with you at my side, we could rule together. We would bring peace, stability.”
“I’ll never join you,” I said.
“Well, you can’t say I didn’t try,” Zeus sighed. “Just remember, what happens next, you brought on yourself. Sitri,” he called, pointing at Puriel. “Please tear apart this despicable creature.”
Sitri snarled and charged towards Puriel. He was almost all wolf now—a great, shaggy beast with dark gray hair. Puriel slashed with his sword, trying to keep his distance.
“Don’t hurt him!” I yelled. Puriel looked at me with somber eyes, but nodded. He kept deflecting Sitri’s attacks, which grew more and more fearsome. Sitri leaped at Puriel’s throat, pinning him down and snapping his jaws at his neck. One of them was going to get killed.
“Stop this,” I begged.
“It’s too late for that now,” Zeus said. “This is for your own good. You need to learn that every time you disobey me, someone you love is going to die.”
I squeezed my palms together in anguish, biting my lip. I couldn’t cut Zeus’s thread without killing Sitri, but if I didn’t stop Sitri soon, he was going to kill Puriel. No matter what I did, I’d lose one of them. That’s when I realized, I was standing next to Zeus with a sharp object in my hands. Even if I couldn’t cut his thread entirely, that didn’t mean I couldn’t hurt him.
I plunged the shears into Zeus’s thigh and twisted. Sparks of pure magic escaped from the wound like shooting stars. The golden shears lit up like molten metal in my hand, and my leather glove burned, sending up plumes of thick black smoke. I heard screams, and I wasn’t sure if they were his or mine. Then he vanished, and we were plunged into darkness. I sank to my knees, clasping the scissors to my chest, cradling my broken arm. A piece of smoldering wreckage, surrounded by the ruins of my former life.
Bonus Chapter
I always planned to end The Golden Shears here, but I thought of one more scene I’d like to add. It’s not included in this edition, but when it’s ready I’ll add it here:
Read the bonus chapter!
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