Marie Phillips

Home > Other > Marie Phillips > Page 19
Marie Phillips Page 19

by Gods Behaving Badly


  “Who should I be apologizing to?”

  “Alice.”

  “But Alice is dead,” said Apollo.

  “Yes,” said Neil. “I know.”

  “And I already apologized for that,” said Apollo, “so I don’t know what else you want from me.”

  “I don’t want anything from you,” said Neil. “I want you to leave.”

  Apollo made no move to go.

  “The thing is,” he said, “I don’t like being rejected.”

  “I’m not rejecting you,” said Neil. “Please go home.”

  “I’m not talking about you,” said Apollo. “I’m talking about Alice. And usually, if someone like that turned me down, I’d just take it out on them there and then, and if I could have hurt her, that would have been fine—”

  “No, it wouldn’t,” said Neil.

  “—but I couldn’t,” said Apollo, “because of Artemis—”

  “What’s Artemis got to do with this?”

  “She made me swear not to harm any mor—” He broke off.

  “Any more what?”

  “Anymore. Anybody, anymore.”

  “You’ve harmed a lot of people in the past, then?” said Neil.

  “Oh yes,” said Apollo. “But mostly they deserved it.”

  “Oh well, that’s all right, then,” said Neil.

  “But because I couldn’t punish Alice there and then,” said Apollo, “it all got a bit out of hand. I didn’t really want her to die. Well, I did, but only because I was hungover and angry. If I could have done it straightaway, I wouldn’t have got drunk. And I wouldn’t have been so angry. And she wouldn’t have died. This is all Artemis’s fault.”

  Neil suddenly realized that he had to get Apollo out of his flat as fast as possible because he was going to cry and there was no way he was going to cry in front of Apollo.

  “Look,” he said. “It’s nice of you to come round. But you didn’t kill Alice. She was struck by lightning. It was a horrible accident. And I don’t want to sit around talking about it to you. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to ask you again. Please leave.”

  “No, you don’t get it,” said Apollo. “I know she was struck by lightning. It was my idea.”

  “It couldn’t possibly have been your idea,” said Neil. “Lightning isn’t an idea. And you didn’t make us go out when we did. You didn’t make her stand . . . there . . .”

  “He would have found her anywhere,” said Apollo. “He would have found her inside a lead-lined tennis ball. She didn’t have a hope.”

  “He?” said Neil, despite himself.

  “Zeus. I’m really sorry, Neil.”

  Zeus. That’s what Artemis had said too. He thought of the photograph in the newspaper and the face of the man in the sky. But it couldn’t be true. It couldn’t possibly be true. If it was true, he would have to rethink everything in his life, and he wasn’t going to rethink everything in his life, because he’d already had to do that when Alice died, and he wasn’t ready to do it again, especially not at the behest of—of all people—Apollo. Apollo! And suddenly all of the anger that he had been holding back broke through the dams and flooded into him.

  “You’re sorry,” he said. “You’re sorry?”

  He felt like he had been electrified, like every atom in his being had unexpectedly been awakened. He jumped to his feet. Apollo was cowering, wearing the face Red Riding Hood must have worn when the wolf pulled off its grandmother costume. Neil felt something completely unfamiliar: he felt powerful. It rushed into him like a drug.

  “You didn’t kill Alice,” he said. “You did not kill Alice! You’re delusional! You think you’ve got power over lightning—you should be in an institution! And then you come over here, to my home, where I’m grieving, and you tell me you’re sorry, like I give a fuck whether you’re sorry or not, like that’s going to make it better, like that’s going to bring her back!”

  “B-but,” stammered Apollo, “I thought you would forgive me. I thought I would feel better. That’s what Eros said. I thought that was the deal.”

  “That is not the deal!”

  Apollo was almost shrinking, his proud warrior’s body hunched up and whimpering like a timid schoolboy in front of the headmaster.

  “You do not apologize because you feel guilty and you want the feeling to go away,” said Neil.

  “You don’t?” said Apollo.

  “No. You apologize because you feel guilty and that guilt is how you know that you’ve done something wrong. And then you want to make amends. You don’t apologize because you want to make yourself feel better. You apologize because you want to make the other person feel better.”

  “But why should I want to make you feel better?” said Apollo. He was beginning to uncurl. “I couldn’t care less how you feel.”

  “Yes, I think I gathered that.”

  “But I do care about how I feel.”

  Now Apollo got to his feet, but Neil wasn’t scared. He’d tasted power and he wasn’t going to let go of it that easily.

  “I need you to forgive me,” said Apollo.

  “Forgive you? As if.”

  “I don’t think you understand. I demand that you forgive me.”

  “No.”

  Apollo swung his arm round as if to hit Neil, but then staggered back, as if he himself had been hit.

  “Forgive me now! I command you!” he shouted as he regained his balance.

  “You can’t command me to do anything!” Neil shouted back. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  “I think I am your lord Apollo, god of the sun,” Apollo spat.

  “God of my arse,” said Neil.

  “Oh really?” said Apollo. “Watch this.”

  Apollo strode over to the window and, his eyes fixed on Neil’s face, pointed into the sky with a flourish, like an impresario about to reveal an exciting new act.

  A split second later, two things happened at once. Apollo collapsed to the ground. And the sun went out.

  30

  ARTEMIS WAS ON the Heath when it happened. Even though she felt every movement of the moon as if she and it were umbilically linked, she hoped for one wild second that it was a total eclipse of the sun, but she already knew, with a stab of horror, that something terrible must have happened to Apollo. Day had turned into night. She knew, without having to see them, that birds would be returning to their nests and nocturnal creatures emerging from their lairs. Across the park, she could hear the screams of mortals. Someone would have to return them to their homes as, inferior even to birds, they couldn’t make their way back by themselves. But she didn’t have time to help them herself. Undaunted by the darkness, Artemis turned and ran home as swiftly and precisely as if the sun had been blazing high at the peak of its arc.

  On the doorstep she met Aphrodite, who spoke to her for the first time in decades in tones untainted by superciliousness.

  “Are you okay? What’s going on? What’s happened to Apollo?”

  Artemis shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said.

  They went inside. Upstairs they could hear feet running and doors slamming—no doubt someone checking for Apollo, going from room to room. Hermes was standing in the hallway, his phone in his hand.

  “I can’t find him,” he said. “I can’t feel where he is.”

  This was a painful admission for Hermes, who could usually locate any god, anywhere in the earth and heavens, in a matter of seconds.

  “We have to do something,” said Aphrodite.

  Artemis was too worried even to point out that she was stating the obvious.

  “This planet won’t last long without the sun,” she said, “but with all the other powers that we’ve got we should be able to keep it going for a short while, at least long enough to find out what’s happened to him. And if there’s any way we can help him.”

  They all considered the dark implications of that if.

  “But it’s going to take all our power,” said Artemis. “And once that’
s gone . . .”

  Ares came thundering down the stairs. “Have you seen him?” he said. The two goddesses shook their heads. “What about the others?”

  “They’re all on their way,” said Hermes, “aside from Hades and Persephone.”

  “Persephone should already be here,” muttered Aphrodite.

  “Maybe we should leave them where they are,” said Hermes. “Who knows how long we’ve got before the mortals start to die.”

  “How are the tides?” said Artemis.

  “Unaffected so far, according to Poseidon,” said Hermes.

  “The moon will do her best,” said Artemis, “but she can’t give out heat, or any light, without the sun.”

  “Can we bring one of the stars nearer?” suggested Ares.

  “Do we have enough power?” said Aphrodite. “Even between us. What if we try and we run out of steam? And then all of us will be—”

  “Hesperus and Phosphorus will be here soon,” interjected Hermes. “We can talk to them about it then, see what they can do.”

  “What about Zeus?” said Artemis.

  The question did not need elaborating.

  “Eros is upstairs now, talking to Hera,” said Ares. “Seeing if she thinks it’s worth the risk of letting him out.”

  Aphrodite’s phone rang, its music piercing the collective anxiety with its cheerful tinny tones. She yanked it out of her handbag.

  “Apollo?” She listened for a couple of seconds. “Use your imagination, limp prick, I’m busy,” she snapped, and returned the phone to her bag.

  “I take it that wasn’t him,” said Artemis.

  “Mortals!” said Aphrodite. “Even I wouldn’t think of sex at a time like this.”

  “So should we all go and look for him, or is it better to stay here?” said Ares.

  “I don’t know,” said Hermes. “I don’t know where to send you. I’ve no idea where he is.” Hermes sounded almost tearful in his admission of failure. “I’ve spoken to Dionysus, and Apollo isn’t there. Of course he had no idea what was going on. That club of his hasn’t got any windows.”

  “Where’s Dion now?” said Artemis.

  “He’s just locking up the club and he’ll be on his way,” said Hermes. “Even he sounded pretty worried when I told him what was going on. Apollo might be in Hackney. He was asking me about a mortal address—”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t worry so much,” said Aphrodite. “Maybe we should just let it happen.”

  They all turned to her. Her perfect face was cold.

  “Give up,” she said, “let the planet die. Conserve our strength until we can create something new, somewhere else. Somewhere better than this. Aren’t you sick of it? I’m sick of it.”

  They all stood in silence for a few moments, absorbing this suggestion. Only a goddess as selfish as Aphrodite could have thought of a plan like that, reflected Artemis, and yet she couldn’t deny that it had a certain logic to it.

  “It might happen anyway,” said Ares eventually. “Even if we manage to keep the mortals alive without the sun, they’ll probably just go and kill each other anyway. They don’t like change, it makes them skittish.”

  “This is a pretty big change,” said Artemis.

  “But we don’t know if we would get stronger, waiting without doing anything,” said Hermes, “or if without the world we would weaken completely and . . .” Die, he didn’t say, but they all thought it.

  “We should discuss it with Athena,” said Artemis. “Where is she?”

  “Upstairs with Demeter, trying to get her out of bed,” said Hermes. “If we are going to keep the mortals going, Demeter has a lot of work to do. The plants won’t survive without her. Then what are they going to eat?”

  Another phone interrupted them, this time Hermes’s.

  “Is it him?” said Ares.

  Hermes shook his head and handed the phone to Artemis.

  “It’s for you,” he said.

  Artemis put the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she said.

  “Okay, I believe you,” said a voice at the other end of the line.

  Hearing it, Artemis felt an odd sensation, like a surge of strength coursing through her body.

  “Is that Neil?” said Artemis.

  “Yes, it is,” said Neil, “and you’d better come quick. I’ve got a god passed out on my kitchen floor and I think the world’s about to end.”

  31

  ARTEMIS RAN ALL the way to Hackney. The temperature was dropping fast and the pavement was beginning to ice over. Traffic blocked the streets as mortals rushed to get to their homes, or perhaps some were already trying to flee—though where they were fleeing to, Artemis could not fathom. Shopkeepers were closing up their stores, slamming doors and yanking down shutters, those without grilles boarding up their windows for fear of looting. Artemis thought about what Ares had said, how disaster brought out the worst in mortals, how they would start killing one another if the gods did not act soon. But she could understand it: they had so few options. She thought of how a cornered animal on a hunt will turn and fight, no matter how little hope it has. Survival at all costs.

  With her innate sense of direction, she didn’t take long to find the address that Neil had given her. It was a small terraced house down a curving side street that looked grimy and abandoned in the darkness. At the far end of the road, she saw a fox sniffing at some dustbins, confused into thinking it was night. For once she felt no urge to chase after it. Instead she rang, as instructed, the middle of the three doorbells. Before long the door opened, revealing Neil, looking rumpled and disheveled, fully clothed with a dressing gown over the top to protect against the growing cold. Seeing him, Artemis burned with unexpected energy.

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” said Neil without greeting her, “but I know you were telling me the truth.”

  “Where is he?” she said.

  “In the kitchen,” said Neil. “All things considered, I thought it best to keep him away from the hospital.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “Gods can die?”

  “Sometimes,” admitted Artemis.

  “I didn’t check. I thought he must be. I hope he is.”

  Artemis followed Neil down the corridor and into his flat.

  “What happened?” she said.

  Neil explained about how Apollo had come over to apologize, how they had argued, and how Apollo seemed to have switched off the sun in revenge for Neil’s doubt in him. He couldn’t offer any explanation as to why Apollo had collapsed.

  “It could be that switching off the sun used up too much of his power,” said Artemis as they approached the figure of Apollo, stretched out across the floor tiles in a strange posture.

  “Gods don’t have unlimited power?”

  Artemis didn’t really want to answer that one. “Unfortunately not,” she confessed eventually. “But don’t tell anyone. I’m only trusting you with this knowledge because it’s an emergency.”

  Neil glanced out the window to the darkness outside. “I won’t tell anyone,” he said.

  “The other explanation could be that Styx punished him for turning off the sun, because of the immense harm it would do mortals. He swore a vow on her not to hurt any mortals, and she doesn’t take kindly to her vows being broken. If it is Styx, he’ll be out for nine years, that’s her standard rate. And we can’t keep the world going for nine years without the sun.”

  “Who’s Styx?”

  “She’s a river in the underworld.”

  “A river could do this?”

  “She’s not any old river.”

  Standing over Apollo now, Artemis tried to think of what she could do to revive him.

  “Did he fall like that?” she said.

  “No, I put him in the recovery position,” said Neil. “I wasn’t sure if it would help, but I didn’t think it could do any harm.”

  Artemis knelt down beside her brother. He was lying turned half onto his side, his arrogant face drained of color
and lifeless. She felt her throat constrict like a fist holding on to a sob. He looked so vulnerable. There was no worse way for a god to look. She called into his ear, felt for a pulse, lifted and dropped his arm, and slapped him, which was fun at least.

  “Well?” said Neil.

  “He’s definitely still alive,” sighed Artemis.

  “Isn’t that good?” said Neil.

  “I’m not sure,” said Artemis. “If he were dead, we could go down to the underworld and bring his spirit back to the upperworld, which might be easier than waking him out of a coma. But I don’t know if that would do any good anyway, if he’d have any power left or would be able to use it. I don’t know what happens to a god’s power when he dies, and I’m not prepared to kill him just to find out. As he’s alive, I suggest we keep him that way. So we need to find a way to wake him up.”

  “So you can’t wake him up, then,” said Neil.

  “It takes a lot of power,” said Artemis. “It would be easier if we had the god of healing to help us.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Apollo.”

  “Oh.”

  Artemis sat back on her heels.

  “Let’s at least make him comfortable,” she said. “I don’t think this recovery position of yours is going to help him to recover. Why do they call it that?”

  She picked up Apollo like a baby in her arms.

  “Do you have a bed or a sofa I can put him on?”

  “This way,” said Neil, leading her into the living room. “So,” he said as they walked, “how many of you gods are there?”

  “Far more than you’d expect,” said Artemis. “The most important gods are based here in London, but there are many others scattered across the globe, all incognito. There’s a god for everything. God of time, god of sleep, god of revenge . . .”

  “If you group together, surely you’d be able to bring him back,” said Neil.

  Artemis shook her head.

  “Unfortunately it’s not that easy,” she said. “The life force of a god is the strongest force there is. So it will take a huge amount of our power to revive Apollo. And we’ve been . . .”

  She hesitated, but the utter blackness outside the window spurred her on. If necessary, she could always wipe his memory later.

 

‹ Prev