God of War 2

by Robert E. Vardeman

  “Kratos has always been your pet mortal. No longer. I declare him nothing more than a stag to hunt, game to bring down. I want him dead! For good! I want my brother Hades to imprison him in the deepest hellhole in the Underworld for the rest of eternity.”

  “Destroying Sparta only stiffened his resolve,” she said.

  “How do you know this, daughter? Where is he?”

  “I know Kratos. Wherever he is—”

  “I know where he is,” came a clear, lilting voice that rang out as clear as a bell.

  “Hermes!” The name slipped from her lips before she realized it. She raised her hand to motion him away, but the god paid her no heed and flew forward to the bottom step leading to Zeus’ throne.

  “I banished you! You defy me!” Zeus jumped to his feet and drew down the power of lightning to slay Hermes.

  “I venerate you, Sky Father,” Hermes said, bowing deeply. “I bring you news of Kratos that will allow you to destroy him.”

  “You were banned from Mount Olympus,” Zeus said, but his tone moderated.

  Athena stepped to one side, marveling at Hermes’ foolhardiness. Or was it bravery? She looked at him with new appreciation.

  “I serve you, no matter where I go. And always I seek the truth that you have been denied.”

  “What are you saying?” Zeus tossed a glowing sphere of lightning from one hand to the other.

  “Ask Lord Poseidon why he sent the Kraken to kill Kratos.”

  “He did what?”

  “My brother!” Poseidon roared into the audience chamber. “I know nothing of what this fool is saying.”

  “Lord Poseidon loves and honors you above all and wanted only to stop Kratos,” Hermes said in his clarion voice. “He did not know he had been deceived.”

  “Deceived?” Poseidon shook his trident in Hermes’ face. “What are you saying?”

  “You did what you had been told was proper, sending your Kraken against Kratos. You did not know the Sisters of Fate had decreed that the Kraken would fail.”

  “Fail?” Poseidon looked uneasy.

  “Why did you send the Kraken, brother?” Zeus continued to toss the glowing sphere back and forth but now squeezed it, compressing it, intensifying the power within.

  “To aid you, Zeus,” Hermes answered for the Lord of the Oceans. “He did not know the Sisters of Fate had forbidden the Kraken’s success. Iris led him astray and put him in conflict with the Sisters.”

  “Iris? What do you mean, Hermes?”

  Athena started to intervene, then forced herself to silence. Hermes was proving more diplomatic—more cunning—than she could ever be. His banishment had forced him to mature and become more circumspect.

  “She has lied to you, my king, to disgrace Poseidon in your eyes. In this way she would gain more influence among the Olympians.”

  “That’s so, Zeus,” bellowed Poseidon.

  “Is it?” Zeus frowned.

  “It is, Sky Father,” Athena said. “My uncle speaks the truth. He was misled by Iris.”

  “Iris thought to anger the Sisters of Fate and turn them against you,” Hermes went on. “She seeks your throne, Zeus. By pitting the Sisters against the gods, Iris thought to emerge the victor.”

  Zeus looked from Hermes to Poseidon and then to Athena. He had no trouble interpreting whom Hermes meant by “the gods.” Athena kept her face solemn, although she wanted to cry out in triumph. Hermes might embellish Iris’ plans, but the kernel of truth was obvious, even to Zeus.

  “I once more greet you as Messenger of the Gods, Hermes,” Zeus said. “Your first mission as courier is to tell Iris she is banished. Never again will she be allowed to walk the earth save at sunrise or sunset and then only when it is raining.”

  “I hear and obey, great lord,” Hermes said, bowing deeply.

  “You are to return and tell me more. Kratos destroyed my brother’s Kraken? This can only be possible with the acquiescence of the Sisters of Fate. Gifts must be sent to them in the name of all gods and goddesses.” Zeus turned to Athena. “Since Poseidon sent his Kraken, you are less likely to stir their ire. Send what tribute is appropriate.”

  “They were our allies during the Great War,” Athena said. “We must never lose their cooperation.”

  “No, we must not,” Zeus said. His dour expression returned. He sat heavily and crushed the lightning ball in his hand, sending sparks exploding outward. “But I will not allow them to protect Kratos. He will die. I will see Kratos dead!” As his wrath cooled, a look of determination settled on his craggy face. “Iris told me Kratos was dead, when she lied to use him against me.” Zeus’ right hand closed, leaking a lambency that increasingly turned to rainbow colors. “She will rue the day she sought to deceive me.” His hand opened and rainbow colors exploded in all directions until nothing but a dull gray fog remained.

  Athena had nothing to say to this. Not now. Hermes had returned to his wonted position and Iris had been relegated to a minor role again, stripped of her spectrum. There would be time to plead Kratos’ case to Zeus. Soon. But not now.

  She bowed to her father, then left. Perhaps Aphrodite or Artemis would accompany her to an audience with the Sisters. For the first time since Ares had been killed, she felt that serenity for all Olympus was within her grasp.

  “WE MUST CONSULT CLOTHO,” Atropos said. Her voice almost broke with strain.

  Lahkesis nodded slowly, thinking about all that had happened.

  “You are right, sister. Your meddling has—”

  “Mine! What of your silly dallying with Kratos? He is yours, and you have allowed him to come this far!”

  “We must share some of the blame for that, sister,” Lahkesis said. “We have worked at cross purposes. The Warrior of Destiny was too hesitant with the use of the Spear of Destiny and allowed Kratos to recover it.”

  “Cut his thread now. I will measure it, you cut it,” Atropos said, her voice shrill. “Kratos is aided by Gaia.”

  “Gaia,” Lahkesis said, waving her hand in dismissal. “The Titans dream of bygone days. They will never be a threat. What worries me more is the Kraken. Did you weave the monster’s attack into Poseidon’s thread? No, of course not. Neither did I.”

  “That’s not possible. You must have. You were teasing Kratos and had Poseidon send his monster,” Atropos said. She fell silent when she saw the answer on her sister’s face.

  “We who are mistresses of the fate of the world are not supposed to be surprised by such things, especially when the attack occurs on our doorstep.”

  “If you didn’t weave the Kraken’s attack into a thread and I didn’t, could Clotho have done so?”

  “Come with me to the Loom Chamber,” Lahkesis said, “and we will settle this matter. We must decide on a destiny for Kratos immediately.”

  “We had done so,” Atropos said. “He defies the fate that we set for him.”

  “Impossible,” Lahkesis said, though she had an uneasy feeling that her sister might skirt the truth. She shook it off. The Sisters of Fate were supreme. This problem with Kratos had occurred only because Atropos had dabbled in what she thought would be an adventure, just as she had. Their work on Kratos’ thread had proven to run at cross-purposes, creating the current situation with him prowling about the Island of Creation.

  “Clotho!” Atropos called the instant they reached the Loom Chamber. Their immense sister hunkered on her pedestal, working to spin countless fates. A huge eye turned toward them.

  “Sister,” Lahkesis said, keeping her own tone level. “We must discuss Kratos.”

  “Have you cut his thread too soon? That is all right, though, there is still tension,” Clotho said, reaching out to pluck at a black thread. She rested her hand on the thread, then slowly stroked it before turning to her sisters. “What have you done? This is outrageous! Cut the thread now, Lahkesis. Now!”

  “Note how his thread intertwines with so many of the Titans,” Lahkesis said. “Gaia mentors him and has allowed him to come as far
as he has.”

  “You and Atropos are responsible, meddling individually. Cut the thread now!” Clotho plucked it again, but the vibrations died out quickly. Too quickly. Such a tweak should have crippled Kratos. It didn’t.

  “I should face him,” Lahkesis said. “There is more to Kratos than we know.”

  “No!” Both Atropos and Clotho cried out in unison at such a heretical thought.

  “The Ghost of Sparta is Gaia’s pawn, but there is more to him. He is developing a will not controlled by our determination of his fate.”

  “This cannot be,” Clotho said. “We are sole arbiters of destiny.” She looked at her sisters and said in a cold voice, “If he has somehow escaped our rule, others might, also. Can it be an effect of Pandora’s Box?”

  “The gods are becoming agitated,” Atropos said, “but doing nothing to contradict our destinies for them.”

  “Yet,” Lahkesis said, “the evidence is mounting that we must more tightly monitor our work. The Kraken, Gaia and the other Titans, the gods’ behavior after Ares was killed … and at the center of it all is Kratos.”

  “Very well, sister,” Clotho said. “Put the worst possible obstacles in his path. If those do not stop him, then confront him. Find out if he has somehow escaped from his thread of destiny, though I feel it is only your and Atropos’ poor judgment and poorer execution that is responsible.”

  Lahkesis bowed slightly, then left the Loom Chamber with Atropos trailing. Kratos would return to the Underworld soon. The Phoenix would be his bane. And if he somehow survived, she would face him to see what made the Ghost of Sparta able to evade his fate.

  THE PHOENIX TRIED to bank away from the opened mouth of the stone Phoenix, but Kratos forced it back onto course. As they flew nearer, he saw a pool of water in the gaping mouth. The Phoenix flared all over and sent fiery sparks everywhere as it fought to avoid entry. Kratos gathered his strength, put his feet against the firebird’s side, and then launched himself into space, diving into the pool. By the time he surfaced and looked out the mouth, the true firebird was winging its way out of sight.

  He swam strongly to a platform and pulled himself up. The large bell in the center of the mouth, where a uvula might have been expected, could be rung with a swinging pendulum clapper. Kratos placed his hand on the huge bronze rod that could be sent crashing into the side of the bell. To announce visitors? Why would the Sisters of Fate not know who came to their palace when Lahkesis had twice visited him in the form of a red-hued ghost as he fought his way to this point? Some other secret lay hidden in the bell and its clapper.

  Kratos examined the structure and saw how the clapper could be rotated using a capstan. He began turning the crank, repositioning the huge bronze rod until it hung at a right angle to the bell. Only then did Kratos hop up and draw it back to the full extent of the arc permitted by its chains. He released it to smash into a wall. The masonry collapsed in a pile and created dust clouds. Kratos stepped away and peered through, hunting for traps or foes. After the dust settled and he saw nothing to impede his advance, Kratos rushed through.

  On the far side of the wall he found an impeccably maintained corridor that led to a chamber so huge, he could hardly see to the far side. In the center some hundreds of feet below was a round platform, as if for supplicants. Kratos spread Icarus’ wings and glided down, barely touching before he heard a commotion above. Looking aloft he saw Lahkesis step off a platform, then slowly float lower until her feet were only a few inches above the platform where Kratos stood. The intent was obvious. She was superior and he was a mere mortal.

  “We’ve been expecting you.” The upper part of her face was hidden by a black mask, and her voluptuous body was more beguiling than any houri Kratos had ever seen. Sleek, bare legs extended down, but her feet did not touch the floor. She floated inches above the tiled flooring, as if she disdained sharing the act of walking with a mere mortal.

  Kratos reached out an arm to grab the Sister.

  Lahkesis smiled and brushed off his hand.

  “Your resolve is admirable, even if it is misguided. I truly thought you would have given up by now.” Lahkesis rose a few more inches and orbited about Kratos, as if seeing him for the first time. The amused smile grew.

  “None can change their destiny, Kratos,” she went on, coming to a halt in front of him. “We sisters determine the fate of all. It was I who deemed that the Titans lose the Great War and I who have allowed you to come this far, because it pleased me.” The smile disappeared. “It is not your destiny to kill Zeus.”

  She floated around him and reached out to touch his shoulder, but he drew back.

  “You no longer control my destiny.”

  “Gaia has filled you with her lies—”

  Kratos grabbed Lahkesis by the throat and squeezed hard so she could not finish the sentence.

  “Give me what I want. I would go back in time and kill Zeus.”

  Lahkesis made a small gesture, knocking Kratos’ hand away with the contempt born of total power.

  “You have always amused us, Kratos. But know this, mortal, there is no power greater than the Sisters of Fate.”

  She held up her staff with the shepherd’s crook edged with a knife blade, but no shepherd’s staff ever produced such eye-searing light. It exploded outward toward Kratos. Barely was he able to raise the Golden Fleece to deflect the magicks. Many battles had been won through aggression. Kratos attacked rather than waiting to see how Lahkesis would further employ the staff, now completely bathed in green light. He rushed forward, the Blades of Athena slashing furiously.

  Lahkesis gasped as the edges cut into her coppery flesh. She tried to flutter higher, but Kratos prevented it with a high strike that arced above his head and came down on the Sister’s shoulder. The blow knocked her to the floor. Kratos pressed his advantage with a flurry of thrusts and cuts. Somehow Lahkesis once more gained the air and floated high, the hem of her long, intricately woven robe barely brushing the platform.

  Kratos unleashed the Rage of the Titans and again knocked Lahkesis to the floor, but this time she used the long staff as a sweep and caught his leg. A quick yank sent him sprawling onto his back.

  She soared above him, her glowing staff aimed at him. Kratos caught the new bolt of energy on his crossed swords but felt the shock all the way up his arms and across his shoulders. It was as if he had been hit with the Barbarian King’s maul.

  A second bolt narrowly missed him. He rolled to the left and scrambled to get his feet under him. He faced away from Lahkesis and she swooped in for the kill. War hammer in hand, he spun about. The full power of the rotation and his incredible muscular strength powered the spiked head directly into the Sister’s body. Lahkesis turned a flip in midair and crashed to the floor, lying on her face and moaning in pain. Kratos walked over, the hammer raised for a killing blow.

  Lahkesis looked up at him.

  “You do not deny fate, Kratos.” She slammed her staff onto the floor. At first Kratos wanted to laugh at the ineffectual gesture. It was nothing more than spite and not a real attack or attempt at defense.

  “We have woven the events of your life …”

  The crook grew brighter yet and cast a shadow against the far wall. Lahkesis tapped her staff against the floor and caused an inky mist to expand slowly, roiling and taking form in front of a tall mirror.

  “Atropos,” he growled, recognizing the sister flowing from the mirror. In place of legs she rode on the ebon mist, floating toward him.

  Both Sisters of Fate intoned, “… and now that life is at an end.”

  Kratos backed away to confront the two Sisters.

  Atropos screeched as she swooped down, her long, talon-like fingers clawing at Kratos. He caught her up and threw her to the floor, but holding her was difficult. She proved stronger and more agile than her fragile appearance suggested as she writhed away from him.

  Atropos screeched again and grabbed him, carrying him through the mirror.

  It was Krato
s’ turn to scream. It felt as if every muscle in his body was strained to the breaking point. Bones cracked and nerves sang with pain. And the brightly lit throne room of the Fates had turned to inky night. He took a step and sank to hands and knees, fighting the dizziness. His gorge rose, but he forced it back, despite the burning bile in his mouth.

  He looked up, got to his feet, and stared into the distance, where he saw himself as a giant battling with an equally outsized Ares. A curse came to his lips when he saw that distant self wielding the Blades of Chaos, their chains still welded to the bones of his forearms showing he was a minion of Ares.

  “We control your destiny, foolish mortal,” cackled Atropos. “With a whim, we can end your life … or allow you to live.”

  Kratos looked at the ground and realized he stood on a broad strip of steel. Then his attention was drawn once more to the distant fight. Ares fired a massive fireball that whirled and spun and formed a vortex so powerful, it sucked up everything around it. Kratos cried out, but his other self was sucked into the tornado. Ares threw back his head and laughed, then vanished in a sheet of lambent light.

  Kratos swung his sword as Atropos swooped past. Her impossibly long talons lightly raked his cheek, and then she soared away, hovering high above him, her feet hidden by the blackness.

  “Search your memory, Kratos. The sword on which you stand delivered your victory against Ares. Without it, you will be the one who dies this day, not Ares. We can change your past and set your future. This is the power of the Fates!”

  Kratos spun and saw that the Sister spoke truly. He stood on a long bridge made from a sword—a sword he knew all too well.

  The steel blade cracked under his feet, causing him to fight to retain his balance. He fell to one knee and saw Atropos preparing to release a glowing sphere of pure energy at him. Drawing Typhon’s Bane, he released one icy arrow after another. One caught Atropos and sent her spinning back.