Doric columns rose from the cliffsides and temples that had held the fires of divine countenance. Anastasia's body no longer hungered for blood, and her wounds no longer plagued her. She stared at her flesh in the golden light and looked back to the goddess.
“How am I whole? Why don't I burn in the light?”
“This place is not powered by the sun you knew on Earth. It is the place of the old gods, and the power that remains here only answers to their whims.”
Anastasia looked back to the many steps that led to the palaces on high. The marble was cracked and dated, yet it was still impressive. There had been great power here once, and Anastasia felt that there might be once more.
“This is Olympus?”
Artemis smiled. “It is time that the ways of the old gods returned.” Artemis pointed to one of the temples on the high steps and the plume of white smoke that rose to merge with clouds from it.
“Come, my new disciple. It seems we are not alone. Surely one of my ancient brothers or sisters raises fire to welcome us home.”
Anastasia walked with the goddess up the steps and towards the temple of the white smoke.
“How long has it been, Artemis? Since you've been to this place?”
“Ages.” Artemis gained a spring to her step; she seemed excited to traverse the great steps. Anastasia followed as best she could and her eyes took in the wonder of it all.
Artemis walked into the temple with her arms spread wide. She was a gleeful as a schoolgirl. Anastasia took in the visage of the golden statue at the temple's entryway. A great warrior woman: cast in gold, wielding a spear, a hundred feet or more in height.
The woman at the fire pit who tended the smoke was dressed in a white cloak and hood, her back to the Goddess. Anastasia could hear the great echoes of Artemis's sandals on the stone floor of the temple.
“Athena?” Artemis was making a big show, as a long lost sister should. “It has been lifetimes, sister.”
Anastasia saw the woman rise from the fire and turn to face Artemis's open arms. “Sister. I have so missed being called that, Artemis,” sang the woman back to the goddess.
Anastasia could just make out the woman's delicate hands and the movement of her white dress. The fingers taking hold of the hood of her cloak and letting it fall off her tresses.
Anastasia shielded her eyes from the great flash that came from the woman toward the goddess Artemis. Anastasia wasn't lucky enough to be able to shield her ears from the scream the goddess let slip from her lips.
The woman raised the cloak back over her hair and stepped around the stone statue that Artemis had become. Anastasia was hiding behind a column, watching the woman step around the stone goddess.
When Anastasia looked away, she turned to her left and found the woman in the white cloak standing beside her. The vampire looked quietly into what could be seen of her face. Her tiny nose and pleasant lips.
“Hello?” said the woman cautiously.
“You've turned Artemis to stone?” Anastasia looked away from the woman's face.
“Of course I have.” The woman was speaking right into Anastasia's ear. “Just as you would have drained the blood from her neck, given the chance.”
“Why?” Anastasia already knew the answer.
Medusa said it just the same. “Because being monsters is all we truly know how to be.”
THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES IN BOOK 3…
BILLY PURGATORY:
TACOS BEFORE
ARMAGEDDON
…COMING SOON!
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