My Life as Athena: The Private Memoirs of a Greek Goddess

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My Life as Athena: The Private Memoirs of a Greek Goddess Page 3

by Daphne Ignatius


  “Go on,” he urged. “I’ll keep clearing the way so that Zeus can get back out.”

  I nodded to him with a smile. Here at last was someone who actually thought me capable enough to do things. I bent to ease my body into the hole, the sharp edges of the surrounding rocks scraping me and tearing my chiton. Nevertheless, I got through and fired up my trusty fireball. Zeus lay limply in a corner, his eyes blinking in the dim light. I scrambled over the stony floor to reach him.

  “Father, I have your tendons. How do we get them back in?” I asked, untying the tendons around my waist. Zeus regarded me silently, seemingly in shock.

  “Father? Are you all right?”

  “I thought this was the end for me,” he said in a rusty voice. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “I’m sorry, we need to move quickly. Echidna had your tendons and I don’t know if she has a way to communicate with Typhon. If she has told Typhon that I have them, he will be here very shortly. We need to get you on your feet!”

  Zeus nodded. “First, we must clean the tendons.”

  I cursed my lack of foresight. In my rush, I had not brought a water skin with me.

  “No matter,” Zeus said, placing one palm on the cave floor. After a few seconds, water seeped around his hand, forming a small pool. Swiftly, I rinsed the grime from the tendons and handed one to him.

  My father shifted and sliced into the back of his leg with his thumbnail. Blood oozed out as he pushed the tendon deep into the gash, pinching the edges of his raw flesh together afterwards to seal it again. Once he was done, I handed him the other tendon and he repeated the process on his other leg. Once he was done, he fell back onto the floor and lay there, gasping in pain.

  “I need a short time to heal. Tell me, do you know about what Poseidon and the others are planning?”

  I told him what little I knew, adding that Hermes was outside and would have a better idea. In due time, Zeus attempted to rise, using the cave walls to support himself. He gained his feet and took one shaky step and then another. Thanks be to Gaia! I moved forward to lend him my shoulder and we weaved our way back to the cave entrance.

  “Hermes, stand back!” shouted my father through the hole I had wriggled through.

  “Yes, Sire,” came the faint reply.

  Raising one hand and gathering the last of his strength, Zeus fired a thunderbolt at the blocked entrance, blasting through the layers of rubble and debris. There was a rumbling as boulders from above the cave entrance fell, leaving just enough of an opening to get out.

  Exhausted, Zeus sagged, his weight dragging my body down. Luckily, a pair of brown arms came through the hole and together, Hermes and I got my father out into the open and laid him on the bare ground.

  Now with sunlight to aid me, I saw thick angry scars running up the backs of his legs, all the way from his ankles up to the point where his flesh disappeared under his chiton.

  Hermes thumped me on the shoulder with a wide smile. “Well done, Athena! You did it!”

  I smiled weakly at him and said in an undertone, “Father is in terrible shape. I don’t know if this actually changes anything.”

  “I’m not decrepit!” came a rough voice from the ground. “Or deaf, for that matter! I just need a good feeding and I’ll be on my feet once more. Now, take me to the others!”

  Typhon

  Zeus limped into the hall of Helios’s palace in Rhodes. Poseidon, Hermes, and Ares stood at his arrival, evaluating his condition.

  “Well met, brother,” said Poseidon with a broad smile as they grasped forearms in greeting. “You look better than I expected.”

  Zeus gave him a crooked smile and gestured for us to sit. Ares and I exchanged victorious glances, pleased to be included in the strategy session. Hades was away, working on freeing Hephaestus from his prison, but Zeus had already decided not to wait for them. The reason was simple: The faster we moved, the less likely Typhon would learn that Zeus was free. It would be the five of us against Typhon, and we needed every advantage we could garner.

  “Typhon is still on Olympus, methodically destroying our homes,” began Hermes gravely.

  “Then that is where we will meet him,” replied Zeus.

  “His size could be a disadvantage,” mused Poseidon. “He stands five times our height. On Olympus, that would mean that his head would be in the clouds. He would have to bend over to see us, putting him off balance.”

  “Good, good,” replied my father. “If we could somehow push him over and restrain him, we could finish him off with a combination of weapons and my thunderbolts.”

  “Ah, I see,” said Hermes, getting excited. “Once he’s down, we could bind him with magical chains and push him over the edge of Olympus.”

  I sat quietly listening to the ideas flow, rubbing my bitten leg absentmindedly. I couldn’t help thinking that the emerging plan was built on a succession of ifs. It seemed that everyone was hoping for Typhon to cooperate and fall over at the correct moment.

  “What happened the last time you confronted Typhon?” I asked, hoping to learn what had gone wrong. Silence reigned for a moment, Poseidon shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

  Finally, Zeus answered. “Hades raised the earth in a dark cloud to confound Typhon, while I fired at him with my thunderbolts. To my surprise, my bolts glanced off his scales, leaving only a smoking spot. Poseidon then attacked him with his trident, but once again his scales shielded him.”

  “Is he completely protected by scales?” asked Ares.

  “His lower half is scaled, but he wears armor to protect his chest and torso. If we are to get him on the ground, we must trip him somehow.”

  I mused on that particular problem, while the others continued their conversation. Our greatest weapon was my father’s thunderbolts. If Typhon’s scales resisted their power, it nullified that advantage. But without the thunderbolts, how would we ever pierce the scales? The answer came to me in a sudden flash of inspiration.

  “Water!” I blurted. All eyes swung towards me.

  “What about water, girl?” asked Poseidon, annoyed that I had interrupted the discussion.

  “Water can go anywhere,” I explained. “Into the smallest of cracks and even under scales... Your water could carry father’s thunderbolts under Typhon’s scales to fell him!”

  My father sat up, excitement kindling in his eyes. “Interesting! Poseidon, we have always used our capabilities in concert, but never combined them. It would be worth a try. If it doesn’t work, we will be no worse off than we are right now.”

  We materialized behind Hephaestus’s workshop on the far end of Olympus. Hera had vehemently opposed Ares’ and my inclusion in the group, but to no avail. Zeus was adamant that we accompany the war party. Hermes flew away to find Typhon while the rest of us took our positions. Only Poseidon stayed visible, stationing himself in front of the workshop’s door to lure Typhon towards him.

  I slipped around the protective berm in front of the workshop to secret myself in the trees while Ares did the same on the other end. Our jobs were to keep Typhon distracted while Zeus and Poseidon conducted the real attack.

  I caught sight of Typhon while he was still a good distance away. He was most impressive. I had been told that he was a giant, but not that his lower half was made of four muscular viper tails. He was able to travel surprisingly fast by lifting himself and crawling forward much like a spider. In contrast, his upper body appeared normal, almost attractive, with a handsome face and long black hair flowing down his back, strong arms terminating in fingers that spat fire.

  Hermes led the giant towards us, flitting about and harrying Typhon by inflicting shallow cuts with his blade. Typhon appeared almost amused by this, slapping at Hermes lazily with his great hands. It was when he caught sight of Poseidon at the workshop door that his expression changed. His broad face darkened and he picked up the pace, flinging his coils forward at greater speed. I tensed. We had chosen this ground for a very specific reason. The berm that prevented
the spread of fire from the workshop could also act as a breakwater for a flood. It was vital that Typhon cross the embankment.

  Typhon slowed as he neared the workshop, his heavy head swinging from side to side suspiciously, looking for other adversaries. He paused, keeping the mound between himself and Poseidon.

  “Where are the rest of you, Olympian?” Typhon’s voice rumbled forth. “I do not believe that you have come alone.”

  At that, Zeus opened the door of the workshop and walked forward to stand beside his brother.

  “Indeed, my brother did not come to face you alone,” replied Zeus confidently, grasping a thunderbolt in his right hand.

  Typhon’s laughter assaulted my eardrums. “You again! This time I will break your body into such small pieces that your family will despair putting you back together again!”

  “Come on then, monster!” goaded Zeus. “You claim that you will destroy me, but you linger so far away that you reveal your fear of us.”

  Typhon growled. The ends of his fingers started to spark. The tails on his lower body pulled him forward again, building to a steady pace. Zeus and Poseidon stepped forward a few steps as if to challenge him. Typhon’s heavy body churned up and over the berm as he held his hands forward, shooting flame from his fingertips. That was the signal for Ares and me to reveal ourselves. We ran towards Typhon, swords unsheathed. He caught sight of us in his periphery but must have dismissed us as secondary threats, knowing that on this particular battlefield, Zeus was the greater danger.

  In front of him, Zeus and Poseidon darted apart to give Typhon separate targets. Behind him, Ares reached him first and hacked at his rearmost tail with his sword. With dismay, I saw the bronze of Ares’ blade begin to warp as it glanced off Typhon’s diamond-hard scales. The next moment, Typhon whipped that tail forward to take another step, knocking Ares flat. My brother’s sword spun out of his hand and landed a few feet away. Ares sat up, obviously reeling, and scrambled on his hands and knees to reclaim his weapon.

  By this time, I had reached Typhon myself. Like Ares, I selected the rearmost tail, but unlike him, I lifted my sword high above my head and thrust its point downwards between two scales. I was rewarded with a bellow as I threw my weight on the blade, driving it through the quivering flesh and into the ground beneath. Typhon tried to twitch his tail free but the blade held, pinning him temporarily in place.

  Typhon’s body blocked my view of my father and uncle, but I heard my father shout “Now!” Upon his signal, Ares and I followed our instructions and ran for the bank. After a few strides, my injured leg suddenly buckled under my weight. I stumbled to the ground and lost a few precious seconds as Ares reached the mound and hauled himself up its steep face.

  Behind me, I knew our plan was unfolding. In moments, Poseidon would spin his trident, plunging its tines into the ground to summon the flood that would engulf Typhon. I clambered back to my feet, and was limping the few remaining feet to the berm when the force of Poseidon’s flood hit me and slammed me into its face. Water whirled waist-deep around me and then receded as I scrambled up the incline, trying desperately to get clear of the water. I succeeded in climbing free, but to no avail. The wet soil acted as a conductor when Zeus fired thunderbolt after thunderbolt into the water. Typhon screamed behind me as streams of crackling blue fire sizzled in my wake.

  I can speak with authority as to why the thunderbolt is such a fearsome weapon. My muscles locked, spasming as every nerve in my body seemed to catch fire. I couldn’t even scream, my throat muscles frozen tight. Even my lungs ceased to function, breath locked in my chest. Blue fire flickered around the edges of my vision as, mercifully, everything turned to black.

  After the battle, Hermes carried my unconscious body back to Rhodes, while the rest of the group stayed on Olympus to deal with Typhon. Ares told me later that they bound Typhon with magical chains and used them to drag his struggling form to the edge of Olympus before pushing him off. Far below, Hades opened a great, gaping hole in the earth, through which Typhon dropped like a stone, straight into the pit of Tartarus.

  As for myself, it turned out that the creature that had bitten me was Typhon and Echidna’s child, a young Titan named Chimera. Chimera’s bite was poisonous, fatal to humans and harmful to immortals. Zeus’s thunderbolt may have felled me, but it was the raging infection in my bloodstream that laid me low. To their eternal credit, Hera and Hestia took turns nursing me back to health, never once leaving me alone. It was thus a surprise when I awoke one day to find Zeus sitting in Hera’s chair beside my bed.

  Disoriented, I lifted my head and regarded him blankly, trying to work out whether or not he was real. A warm smile split his dark beard as he leaned forward to place a hand on my forehead.

  “You’ve cooled down, Athena. You’re going to be just fine,” he said quietly. “All is well.”

  “What happened?” I struggled to sit up in the bed. “Is Typhon defeated?”

  “He is,” Zeus confirmed. “It took several days, but we were able to cast him into Tartarus and pin him down with a mountain. He’s not going anywhere.”

  If I weren’t so weak, I would have shouted out in victory. As it was, all I could manage was a weak, “Can we go home, then?”

  “As soon as you are able,” he said. “Sleep now, daughter.” In an unexpected show of affection, Zeus leaned forward and placed his cool lips on my warm forehead. I felt a wave of his strength flow into my body, calming my infected blood. I signed aloud in relief, my eyes sagging shut as I sank back onto my bed.

  “You did well, Athena. Your loyalty and bravery will be honored.”

  Maiden Goddess

  The years passed, and I learned all that Hera and Hestia could teach. I had proved my loyalty to Zeus and, more importantly, I was the only child born “solely” of his seed (ha!) and thus was special in his eyes. I stayed close to him, slowly softening him as only a daughter can. Zeus made the error of trying to seat me as a council member after the Typhon affair, but that was universally protested by the rest of the gods. I was untested, and even if my body was that of an adult, my lack of experience with gods and humans alike made me unprepared for such an august responsibility. So, my father sent me to the river god Triton on Earth for seasoning.

  Life was good under Triton’s care, and I found my first true friend in his eldest daughter, Pallas. She wasn’t the genteel, well-behaved female that the rest of the goddesses tended to be (except for Aphrodite, who was delightfully improper!). That was what endeared her to me.

  I shared a cozy riverside cottage with Pallas and her sisters. I think they were meant to be my handmaidens, but that’s not the way it worked out. Pallas was far too spirited, and her sisters far too flighty, so we wound up companions rather than mistress and servants. If my aunt Hestia had known that Pallas and I sparred or rode most mornings, she probably would have thrown a divine fit before putting me to work at my loom or some other horrific task. Instead, I grew fit and strong, playing under the golden Boacian sun.

  It was Pallas who first told me that my eyes were unusual. She drew me to the bank of her father’s river and passed her hand over the waters to calm them. Once they settled into mirror-like stillness, she bade me lean over the water to look at my face.

  I had often looked down at myself and was well aware that my body was long-limbed, my skin the color of cream, my tumbling hair streaked sunlight. I had enough self-awareness to know that my face was attractive, but much less so than the other goddesses of Olympus. My looks tended towards handsomeness rather than outright beauty, but that was just fine with me, as my demeanor had always been rather stern. That was not intentional, but I didn’t have Pallas’s skill of relating easily to others.

  “Look more closely at your eyes,” invited Pallas, leaning over the water herself so that our reflections appeared side by side. “Compare them to mine.”

  I bent over till my nose was close to the water. So? My eyes were dark blue. Hers were a lighter shade of blue but, again, nothing u
nique. My gaze flicked between the two reflections, comparing. Then I finally saw it: The sparks that I thought were the glint of sunlight on the water resided deep in my eyes, but not in Pallas’s. I heard a gurgle of laughter from her when I finally figured it out.

  “You have the stars themselves in your eyes,” she said. “They must have come from your mother, as I’m fairly sure Zeus doesn’t have them. And what’s more, the color changes with your mood! When your fire is up, the stars brighten until your eyes look silver! Bright-eyed Athena!”

  I smiled at my reflection, pleased now that I knew there was something distinctive about my looks after all. With a snort, Pallas jabbed an elbow into my side, almost knocking me into the river.

  “Now, there’s no need to start preening! Please don’t tell me that you’re going to turn into one of those featherheads who can’t live without a mirror.” I sprang to my feet and went after her to wrestle her to the ground. She was faster than me and darted away, light as thistledown on her bare feet. We raced along the river bank, hearts pounding, hair flying, the very picture of carefree youth.

  Ahead of us, a shimmer of light appeared as my half-brother Ares materialized, one hand placed elegantly on the hilt of the sword at his waist. He was a golden youth, strong of limb, but had not yet gained his first beard. Hence, he had not yet been seated on Olympus, either. I know that he was deeply offended when our father tried to seat me ahead of him, but strangely enough, he bore no ill will towards me for it, and often dropped in to check on me and to spar with Pallas and me.

  Pallas slid to a halt in front of Ares, her eyes dancing. She found Ares attractive and wasn’t above a little flirting even when she was testing her sword arm against his. Ares found her amusing and tried to flirt back, but it wasn’t in his nature to be lighthearted and charming. He usually came off a bit wooden when he tried, but I thought it nice that he even made the attempt.

 

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