“It will be my pleasure to deliver the message to the Olympians. The looks on their faces will prove entertaining.” Eros chuckled. “I will see you soon, brother.”
I offered Agamedes my hand and pulled him to his feet. He gripped his arm to his chest where a gash on his forearm lazily dripped blood onto his white tunic. His knees were scraped and bleeding. His hair hung in a disheveled mess very out of character for my fastidious advisor. I gathered the fallen scrolls and placed them into a haphazard pile on the table. Agamedes winced as though my handling of the scrolls hurt worse than his injuries.
“Find the twin Olympians and have them heal you. Tell Tartarus that he may have Thermopylae and keep the six horses. I will take the brooches and his pit servant for training Fiamouria. That should appease him slightly for the eruption that Nikomedes and his pet caused. No doubt I will still be subject to his complaints.” I turned away and started for the cavern exit.
“Yes, my king,” Agamedes responded, shuffling along behind me.
“Send Nikomedes to me after you are healed. Find out where his nursemaid was this morning while he was off touring the pits.” My leniency toward Nerine was over. “Then find Lyannìa and assist her in any way that she needs. The preparations for tonight’s celebration must be completed. If necessary, gather servants from my brothers’ and sisters’ houses.”
“It will be done, my king.” He wheezed behind me as he struggled to keep pace.
“I will be outside the palace walls for some time while I survey the damage done this morning and make sure the Olympians do their share of the work.” Without warning, I teleported, following the bond that would lead me to my wife. I would give her the news of Nikomedes’s latest adventure and be there to catch her when she swooned. The dragon had not gone over well. I doubted hearing that our son had caused a volcanic eruption while inside the volcano was going to endear Lyannìa to his new pet.
11
The gloaming was upon us by the time the landscape had been repaired. I stood upon the border of Tartarus’s lands, admiring the harsh beauty of the red sand that gave way to bare rock cliffs and arches in the distance. It had taken some time to calm Lyannìa. Then Nerine had been nowhere to be found, and a new servant had to be assigned to Nikomedes until we could find another nursemaid.
I teleported to the area where I could feel the others congregating only to find a skirmish had broken out between the Olympians and the other Chaonians. Eros was laughing as he dodged Artemis’s fist. Dionysus was drinking—wine no doubt—from a large goblet as he halfheartedly swung a staff at a couple of Nyx’s descendants. My patience already worn thin, I sent out a blast of wind that knocked most everyone off their feet. At least the fighting stopped, even if the grumbling had continued while we worked.
My attention shifted to where Gaia knelt on the lush green carpet of my lands, coaxing the last of the replacement trees to grow. I could feel her power digging deep into the ground to anchor the roots. Between her cupped palms, a sprout pushed through the dirt. Gaia rose to her feet as her magic swirled around the sprout. Her golden hair whipped about her head as the power she unleashed swirled even faster. Her green eyes shone like lit emeralds to match the tendrils of her power weaving about the tree. The tree’s base grew thicker and its limbs longer. Dark green leaves unfurled along the branches as the sapling grew into a towering oak tree. Gaia shakily stepped back, her work complete.
Her skin looked pale in the light of the fading sun. She quickly clasped her hands together to hide their trembling. Even if I hadn’t caught those telling signs of power fatigue, I could see it through my connection. My link to her was usually a vibrant green thread humming with energy but was now a dull, sickly color. My hand settled on her shoulder, and I pushed my energy out through our connection.
“All is back as it was. It is time to rest and refresh,” I said as gently as was possible for me. “You did more than any other. Why did you not draw from me?”
The color returned to her cheeks as she absorbed the energy, and the thread between us returned to normal. Her small hand covered mine on her shoulder. “The Great Mother was hurting. I could not let her suffer. Enough drink greedily from your well, my brother. My powers were up to the task. Though I thank you for restoring me.”
Gaia referred to the Earth as the Great Mother and said she was as alive as any creature. I had never felt anything other than energy from this world. I had been birthed in the darkness of space. I first became aware when my father pulled from the very fabric of space and ripped apart thousands of stars to form me. I had existed there for some time before my father molded me into this form and sent me to Earth. I called this planet my home, but I was not part of it the way my brothers and sisters were.
I uncomfortably slipped my hand from beneath hers. Affection and compassion were not something that we siblings shared. Gaia, though, had never been as restrained as the rest of us. “Come. It is time for the feast. Perhaps you will—”
Fear and a soul-deep pain lanced my chest. My heart stuttered. My vision went fuzzy as images flashed through my head. A purple butterfly. A bridge. A shadow separating itself from the dusk. People dancing around a fire. A woman with her throat slit. A child lying broken on the steps. Blood. So much blood. Then darkness.
“Titan! What is it? What is happening?” I found myself on my knees with Gaia’s small form the only thing keeping me from toppling onto my face.
My heart beat rapidly, but there was no echoing answer. I felt empty, like someone had carved out every part of me that mattered and only left behind the shell that made up this form. I shook Gaia off and stood.
“Lyannìa!” I searched deep inside for the cord that bound us, only to come up against a wall. “Wife, answer me!”
The images had come from Lyannìa. Something was very wrong. I teleported faster than I had ever traveled before. I heard my siblings calling out to me through our connection as if from a great distance, my sole focus on finding my wife. I stepped onto the edge of the bridge in the gardens and my vision narrowed on what lay at its center. My feet felt weighted down by stones, each step heavier than the last as I approached.
There upon the ground lay a strand of white jasmine flowers torn from the column of the bridge. The perfect petals were marred by splashes of crimson. Just beyond that, a puddle of crimson spread across the stone, a garish anomaly in a world that had suddenly gone colorless. Carefully placed at the center of the puddle of blood was a familiar object. A bone-deep cold blew through the hollow cavity that used to house my heart. Slowly I reached out to pick up the delicate black crown. The crown that I had made for Lyannìa, to match my own. I gripped it to me, paying no heed to the blood that coated my hands.
Gaia dropped to her knees next to me. “Is she—” Her tear-choked voice cut off before she could state her fear.
“NO! She cannot be dead. I cannot reach her, but I would know if she had passed beyond this world.” My voice was a hoarse rumble that I barely recognized.
“That much blood . . . Brother, I pray to Chaos that it is not so, but you must prepare yourself—” Gaia reached out to me, but I quickly got to my feet, avoiding her sympathy.
“I tell you I would know. She is alive. Someone has taken her and blocked our connection.” I gripped the black crown tighter until the material warmed beneath my hand. Painstakingly, I used my power to shrink the crown down into a solid black ring and slipped it over my finger.
I scanned the garden that was bathed in the hues of the setting sun. It was eerily quiet, like the whole world held its breath. Where were my people? Where was the dancing and singing? Where was the drunken revelry and games?
“Nikomedes?”
There was no response to be found from my son either.
“Gather your handmaidens,” I growled, “and search out these traitors.”
Gaia went quiet beside me, and I turned to find her expression filled with horror. “Melos. Tanika. They are dead. My other handmaidens are gathering thos
e they can. They felt the trees mourning. Their roots bathed in blood. I was too drained to hear their call.”
The ruthless calm that had served me well through centuries of battle took over. “We are under attack.” I sent the message to all of my people. “Arm yourselves—”
Suddenly an explosion cut through the air. The blast wave punched into me like a giant fist, knocking me back several feet. Gaia was thrown from the bridge and into the waist-deep water of the pool. A large fireball bloomed into the sky, momentarily blinding me. Rock flew in every direction as pieces of the spiraling tower over my family’s rooms came raining down. Then the wind shifted and rushed back to fill the voided space. Jasmine petals pulled from their branches, mixing with dust and embers to form a punishing storm that battered my body.
Finally, the wind died down, and I was left staring at the scene of destruction. The acrid smell of smoke stung my nose. Grit crunched between my teeth as I inhaled the dust-laden air. My mouth felt as dry as Tartarus’s desert as I surveyed the wasted gardens that my wife had spent so much time tending. The crushed birdcages and burnt flower beds taunted me with yet another piece of Lyannìa that had been taken from me.
Gaia levitated through the air to return to my side. Her dripping green dress vanished as she approached. A small section of the bridge’s surface turned to liquid rock as she passed over it, and the dark gray matter twined around her ankles and slithered along her naked form, hardening over her torso like armor. Scattered petals of jasmine, their once pure white dulled by scorch marks and blood, circled her hips to form a skirt. I nodded in acknowledgment of her tribute to Lyannìa. Just as her feet touched the bridge once more, sound abruptly returned. Screams and shouts rang out around us.
“They used air manipulation to block the sounds.” It was a clever move that I had used in battle numerous times. “Gaia, save those that you can. Take them through the tunnels beneath the palace. There are weapons in the treasury. Arm yourselves as quickly as possible and follow the tunnels to the docks. Do you remember which to take?”
She nodded.
“Board one of the Olympian ships and set a brisk course toward the Mediterranean.” When she looked like she would argue, I swiftly cut her off. “You will leave behind any who are not able to make their own way.”
Defiance sparked in her bright green eyes.
“Sister, you cannot save them all. You risk the death of many to save a few. Go now.” I paused a moment as anguish gripped me. “If Nikomedes lives . . .”
“If Nikomedes lives still, I will find him and protect him unto my last breath,” Gaia vowed.
12
Gaia teleported away before I could respond, granting me a reprieve from having to deny her vow. I should not put my son’s life before the rest of my people, but I knew, if the time ever came to choose, who the winner would be. My family had become more important to me than all else. Perhaps my God and Father had forsaken me for this very reason. How could I be the great balance when I would choose them over this world?
“Titan!” The voice bellowed, cutting through the sounds of battle to vibrate against my skin.
The ability to wield Voice was not a power many could claim. It was a combination of projection and compulsion. Outside of the Order, there was only one man I knew who could wield it with such skill. My gaze landed on the lone figure standing upon what was left of my family’s rooms. Lightning struck the spot where the figure stood, and he vanished from sight. The air behind me shivered with the coming charge, but I was not quick enough.
Lightning struck my side, searing my flesh. I staggered backward only to be swept up by a tendril of water that wrapped around my throat. My feet kicked uselessly as I was hauled into the air. My muscles strained against the tightening noose. Another lightning bolt struck my chest and knocked the air from my lungs. The smell of my charred flesh stole what little breath I could manage. I wrapped my power around myself and teleported to the edge of the bridge.
Gulping great lungfuls of air, I called out with my powers. The familiar heavy weight of a sword settled into my hand. Deep within the black blade, a blue flame sparked to life and words in a long-dead language floated to the surface. The sword had been a gift from a Sumerian priest in thanks for creating the wheat that helped found their empire.
During that time, a part of my father had walked the Earth with me. He had found the Sumerians interesting enough to aid them for a short time. The being made of pitch-black space from which stars and galaxies shone had prompted many Sumerian tales. This sword was all that remained of the link between that race and the “aliens” who aided them. My father had sealed our alliance by plunging this sword deep into his coal-black chest and depositing a piece of himself within the blade. As such, it was a deadly weapon that could kill a Chaonian with a single blow.
“You pledged your loyalty and life to me. To the Order of Chaos. Now you attack us.” My words vibrated with anger and disgust.
“Illusion only. We vowed nothing to your pathetic Order.” Zeus smirked.
“Hermes. His skill must have grown greatly to accomplish such a feat.”
“Chaos has taught us all much these last years. Lessons that you kept from us.”
“You lie!” I shouted in denial. “My father would not aid you in overthrowing me.”
“Where is your father now? Has he spoken to you? I think not.” Zeus sneered. “You have chosen to put a woman before your duties. Your father despises what you have become, as do I.”
I struggled to draw breath as the weight of what he said washed over me. My family was more important to me than my duty, but I had maintained the balance. My father would never work against me.
“Father?”
The silence lanced my heart like a knife. Could it be true? No! I would not believe this traitor. I raised my sword. “You have betrayed your king and the Order. The penalty is death.”
“You think to bring us down with the Achlys, the great poison that can banish our kind to mist.” Zeus laughed. “You who have done so much to save us weak halflings? I think not.”
“We were as close as brothers once, but your bitterness has poisoned you. I have forgiven you many things these last years. This I will never forgive.” I growled. “Where is Lyannìa?”
“Keep your forgiveness,” Zeus spat out. “As for your whore, she will soon no longer be of any concern.”
“Bring her to me, and I will grant you a quick death.”
“Even now all you think of is that bitch while your people are slaughtered.” Zeus sneered in contempt. “The once-mighty Titan is no more than a pathetic boy clinging to the skirts of a woman.”
Guilt was a foreign concept, yet I felt it all the same. I could not save my family while damning my people. “Then stop this. They are your people as well.”
“They are weak. Barely able to wield even the most basic powers.” A ball of light formed on his hand, then his fist closed around it to snuff it out. “We will cleanse the lines of this weakness and begin anew.”
“Then you leave me no choice.” Rage filled me and I used Voice to project my message across the island. My words fueled by compulsion, I sealed their fate. “The Olympians are all traitors. They are sentenced to death. It is your duty to cut down any that you encounter.”
Zeus clapped. “Very good. No matter though. We have already killed most of your people, and the rest will be dead before dawn.”
Poseidon created two long whips of water and snapped them my way. I summoned water from the pool to shield me, and the whips snapped harmlessly against it. “It is you who first betrayed us.” He curled his lip into a snarl.
“Poseidon, enough,” Zeus said. The whips disappeared, and I let my shield fall like rain upon the bridge. “His time is coming soon enough. Poseidon speaks truth. It is your betrayal that has led to this. We wanted back the leader who laughed as he gutted these weak humans and simpering halflings. You refused to rise to the challenges we offered.”
Lightning flash
ed struck in the distance, setting the forest on fire. “It was you who took us from our homes when we were mere babes. Trained us in our powers and combat. It was you who kept us prisoner on this cursed island, making us fight each other and everyone else for a scrap of your praise.” Another lightning strike and more of the forest burned. “This was the only home we could remember. Our families had long since died. Then you turned us away and brought in other children to replace us.” Jealousy flashed through Zeus’s eyes.
Had that been what they all thought? Yes, I had been ruthless in my training of the halflings, especially the Olympians. I hadn’t much cared if they lived or died. “It was never a matter of replacing you. I could not allow the halflings to fall into the hands of the humans. You rode out with me to track them. You saw what became of those we did not reach in time.”
Lightning slammed into the hedges of the maze nearby and set them ablaze. Zeus bellowed. “We rode with you because you were the only father we could remember! What else were we to do? We had no home. No purpose but that which you gave us. Centuries of gathering the halflings and battling by your side. Then you abandoned us yet again—”
“With your whore and that weakling boy you call ‘son.’” Poseidon’s disgust-filled voice broke in. “Even the death of your beloved Greeks could not pry you from under that she-bitch’s spell. Soon you will know the pain we have felt. My people will finish what they have started with the Greeks. Then we will tear your woman and your whelp into pieces.”
How had I been so wrong about the Olympians? They were not willful children but the treacherous enemy that had been looming all this time. “The sea people invading Greece. They are yours?”
A smug smile curled Poseidon’s lips. “The great warrior who taught us all we know fell for my lies. There was never a band of human invaders. My children will wipe the Greeks from existence.”
Dawning Chaos Page 6