Their Goddess (Daughters of Olympus Book 5)

by Charlie Hart

  Persephone

  On the ground next to my friend, I sob, screaming at the Fates.

  "What have you done now?"

  "We took her life," Lachesis says with a murky smile and a shrug. "Someone had to pay for ruining our day."

  "How dare you," Remedy screams, lunging for Clotho and grabbing the scissors from her bony hands, tossing them to me. Remedy is very pregnant, but she doesn't hesitate. It's as if her animal instincts are taking over. Her claws are out. Before my very eyes, she shifts into wolf form and shoves Clotho to the ground, snarling at her.

  "Did you want to fix that?" she hisses.

  "She is already gone."

  "I don't believe you," Lark says, her beautiful plumage swishing as she moves. "You don't have it in you, Clotho. You say you hold the strings of life, but it is just a farce, just like you. There is no such thing as the strings of life."

  "You're wrong," the old woman hisses.

  But Lark stands firm. "No, I am not. I grew up with a mother who was a witch and I know magic when I see it. You tell people you hold the strings of life, but truly you hold nothing but thread that you've enchanted."

  "It's not true," Atropos whines. "It's not."

  "No?" Lark asks, completely in control of the room. "Then why glamour the room to make us see what isn't there?"

  The Fates fall silent.

  Harlow steps forward, her shimmering skin and sandy hair sweeping past me, looking directly into the Fates' eyes. "If you are as powerful as you want me to believe, then why did you kill my lover, Eric?"

  The Fates turn green as they coil back, and I turn to Gaia's face, desperate to see the rise and fall of her chest.

  Nothing.

  Tears fall down my cheeks. She can't be gone. Not after all she has done for me.

  She can't lay down her life as well.

  "See, you can't answer," Harlow scoffs. "Because you didn't have a role in his death. You've cast a magic spell and it has scared people into submission. You make a potion and say it's your innate power. But it isn't."

  Tennyson steps closer, and I watch as my daughter with her practically translucent skin -- the girl from the River Styx, who saved my life and risked her own -- stands up for me. For Gaia.

  For the future of Mount Olympus.

  "You're not goddesses," Tennyson declares. "You're frauds. Nothing more than witches who work in black magic."

  Standing from my dying friend, I pull back my shoulders as anger races through me. "What did you do to the gods?" I step closer to the Fates, no longer scared of being sent away.

  Where might I go? The Underworld? Fine. I've faced it already.

  "It doesn't matter," Lachesis groans. "It's done."

  "It does matter," Lark presses. "What did you do to our fathers?"

  "It's too late," Clotho cries, burying her face in her wretched hands.

  "It's never too late to make our wrongs right," Tennyson says. "I know that better than most. So, tell us, now." She takes the scissors from my hand and raises them in the air as Remedy sets free her wolf growl. It is terrifying; her bite full of venom. She is ready to pounce.

  "Fine," Atropos sobs. "It was the toast."

  "The toast?" I ask, my voice catching. "What toast?"

  "At the wedding, you stupid brat," she hisses at me. "You were so young and in love, without a care in the world. But you were a greedy little girl, weren't you? The love of one god wasn't enough for you. You needed the love of four gods to satiate your desire."

  "That isn't how it happened," I tell them, shaking my head. "We can't choose who we love."

  Lachesis throws back her head, a grotesque laugh filling the decrepit room. "But you can choose who you hurt." She turns to look at Gaia, dead on the floor.

  "Take it back, what you did to her, what you did to the gods." My eyes burn with fury, they stole my life from me. Stole my chance to hold my babies close to my chest and watch them grow. They stole the love of my husbands from me on my wedding day. They took every trace of happiness away from me, out of jealousy.

  And yet they have no remorse for what they have done to my family.

  Hades told me this love would ruin us and he was right.

  Oh, how I long to salvage what they stole.

  "Why should I take it back?" Clotho asks, raising her eyebrow.

  I shake my head, biting down on the hatred I am tempted to unleash. Instead, I choose hope. Instead, I choose to forgive. "Because you can choose love instead of hate,” I tell her. "You have a second chance."

  Just then a crash erupts outside and a wild cry forces us all to rush to the door. Outside the gods are raging, ready to fight, shouting our names.

  My heart tightens with conflicting emotions. Part of me wants to run to my husbands and tell them it was a spell. That they don't truly hate me, that they've been tricked by the Fates.

  But I can't reason with them until the spell is broken.

  And right now, I can't let their anger steal my joy. I reach for my daughters' hands, clutching them tightly. Falling to the floor beside Gaia, we all stare at Mother Earth, the one who spent two decades fighting for our return.

  This moment can't become about the gods. It needs to be about my oldest friend.

  My daughters sense that, too. We won't give those gods the power.

  "I'm so sorry, Gaia," I whisper. "I'd do anything to keep you alive."

  "Anything?" Lachesis asks with a greedy grin. Behind her, my four husbands stand in all their glory. Wild anger whips through the room but I refuse to let it ensnare me.

  My husbands are not in their right frame of mind.

  But I am.

  "Anything,” I repeat.

  Bring it on.

  19

  Zeus

  She is beautiful.

  She always was. Hair like silver stars and moonlight, eyes like the sky at dawn. Clear as day.

  My mind is twisted.

  I hate her.

  Don't I?

  Seeing her after all this time cracks something inside of me.

  Resolve?

  But between her and I, are three monsters.

  "Who are you?" I shout at the old women, all bones and brittle hair. Withered skin and faded hearts. They are not of this world.

  Are any of us?

  "It's the Fates, Father," Lark says, in her phoenix form.

  My jaw tightens. Is this creature truly the blood of my blood, the flesh of my flesh?

  "The Fates?" Hades asks from behind me. As we stand in the small house, we overpower it... but then I realize it isn't just us.

  There is so much strength in this room.

  If only it was harnessed for the same thing.

  Right now, the power the gods and goddesses hold is at odds.

  "Yes. The Fates," Tennyson says, her purple hair swishing as she walks toward us, fearlessly. "And you may hate me, but you have it all wrong. I'm beginning to think men usually do," she says with a salty smirk. Her arms cross and she stares down the ruler of the Underworld. "I don't believe we've met," she says, offering him her hand.

  It catches him off guard. Lark, Harlow, and Remedy wanted nothing to do with us once they knew who we were... but Tennyson faces Hades without flinching.

  She is her father's daughter.

  "Tennyson?" Hades asks. Something shifts in the room when he speaks her name. Some of our power seems to diminish as he takes her hand in his.

  "Don't, Ten," Lark screams. "Don't trust him. Any of them.They tried to murder us."

  Tennyson shakes her head. "I'm not scared of dying."

  For the first time in his life, it seems as if my brother has met his match.

  Hades looks past her, to Persephone. She's on the ground, her hands on Gaia's face.

  "We came to kill Gaia," I remind Hades.

  "It's too late for that," Persephone whispers. "It's all too late. Unless the Fates agree to save her. I offered them anything in exchange for her life."

  I face the Fates, confused at the
women before me. "Clotho?" I ask. "Lachesis, Atropos, is it truly you?"

  They cower in the corner. "It is. Just don't... don't kill us..."

  I look at the other gods. Poseidon and Ares shake their heads. Don't back down from the plan, they seem to be saying.

  But something doesn't add up.

  "Why would I kill you?" I ask.

  Remedy shifts to human form and scoffs, her vivid red hair swishing as she moves. Her pregnant belly reminds me of her mother the night she conceived.

  "You'd kill them because they tricked you. You may be badass gods of Olympus, but you let three witches ruin your life."

  "Witches?" Ares asks, the veins in his muscles surging. He is not one for games. "You aren't goddesses?"

  Suddenly the Fates begin begging us for forgiveness, but I'm still unclear as to what we're being asked for.

  "What the hell is happening?" Poseidon yells. "We're here for Gaia, and she is already dead. Next, the girls."

  "You're focused on the wrong fucking thing, Dad!" Harlow screeches. "Stop acting like a fool! You are a god, not a child. Listen to us!"

  The room falls silent as she lets out a loud scream, louder than the screech.

  Then her water breaks.

  Gaia is dead.

  Persephone is hysterical.

  The Fates are frauds.

  The gods are filled with righteous anger. But it is perhaps directed at the wrong person.

  And Poseidon is about to become a grandfather.

  I may have been a fool, acted like a child. But I am still Zeus. The ruler of Olympus and a god in my own right.

  But ever since I walked into this broken-down house I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Like what I believed to be true might not be.

  Like something has cracked open. Light has been allowed in.

  I look at the Fates as Persephone rushes to her daughter’s side, easing her to a chair as her contractions begin. "What did you do?" I ask the Fates, and even as I say it, I see it all clearly.

  The wedding feast. Their toast.

  "Now," Clotho said. "Raise your glasses and close your eyes."

  We did as she asked, laughing. "The wish is simple; the wish is wise. Love never fails unless it dies."

  The Fates killed our love at our wedding feast.

  We closed our eyes and sealed the spell.

  They say as much to the other gods standing beside me, and I feel the surge of anger rushing toward them.

  "There are no strings of life, are there?" Ares asks.

  The Fates hang their heads, the truth is plain.

  We've been fooled once, but we won't be fooled twice.

  "Why?" Poseidon asks. "You know we loved her."

  "Loved?" Persephone asks, turning toward us, her hands gripping Harlow's tightly. Her face is streaked with tears, but she looks even more beautiful than the day we met.

  "Love,” I say, with all that I am and all that I was. " I love her."

  Her chin trembles, her shoulders shake.

  Twenty-one years locked in a cage. What kind of god am I to not see the truth sooner?

  To let three witches play such wicked games on my mountain?

  "Don't kill them," Persephone says in a whisper. Her daughters surround her, so much strength, so much glory. We've missed so much. "Gaia is already gone. That is enough death for one day."

  "So, we let them go? Ares asks. "After all they did to us? After all they took from us?"

  Persephone shakes her head. "No. They should pay."

  The Fates are hysterical in the corner, but none of us pay them any mind.

  "I have an idea," she says. "Hades, could we make a deal?"

  20

  Hades

  The chill that has covered me for twenty-one years begins to thaw. For the first time in two decades, the frost around my heart begins to melt.

  After everything, Persephone still reaches for me.

  She chooses me after we cast her away.

  The Fates took so much from us. Yet, she chooses to withhold the ultimate punishment, one they surely deserve. One, in truth, we all deserve.

  We tried to kill our own daughters because of their wicked spell.

  Shame rushes over me at how twisted I allowed my heart to become. How fooled. After spending eternity in the Underworld, I have learned a few things about black magic. Specifically, only those with jealousy already brewing in their hearts are susceptible to such dark magic.

  In some ways, the four of us must have harbored some fear in order to let ourselves succumb to such ruin.

  "Anything, Persephone. But I won't make a deal with you." I fall to my knees, desperate for her to believe how sorry I am. "Anything you want, I will give."

  Tennyson looks down at me, shock written in her eyes. But then tears begin to fall down her cheeks as she watches Persephone reach down, cupping my cheek with her hand. "Maybe it is too cruel, but it's the only way I can see how to save my oldest friend. Send the Fates to River Styx and allow Gaia to stay in their place."

  "Your will is done," I say without hesitation. I know time is of the essence, and not just for Harlow, who is close to delivering her babies, but also for Gaia, who has been straddling life and death for longer than is safe.

  But there is still time to bring her back from Styx, to deliver her heart, mind, and soul here to Olympus.

  The Fates scream, begging me to reconsider, but I reach for them, my arms wrapping around their frail frames, but I can't take them to Styx. It isn't my place to go there, it's why Tennyson was safe there for so long.

  "I'll take them for you," she offers, her face bright. "It's my pleasure, really." She gives me a look that could kill.

  Persephone squeezes her daughter’s hand. "Hurry back. You're about to become an auntie."

  Then Tennyson asks Remedy for a surge of wind to draw the Fates to her, she then asks Harlow to make a fishing net -- which she manages to conjure between her contractions -- and she wraps the Fates in it, then she requests Lark to fly her to the River's edge.

  The girls work in harmony and then Lark and Tennyson are gone. Persephone sends Remedy to get their harems, knowing Harlow’s partners need to get here before she delivers her babies. And Gaia won't return to the land of living until Tennyson and Lark have deposited the Fates.

  "Is there anything you goddesses can't do?" Ares asks, clearly stunned by our daughters' prowess.

  Persephone steps toward us. "I think we've got it pretty well covered," she says. And for a moment I think that means she has no need for us. "But there is one more thing you can do for me."

  "What is it?" Zeus asks.

  She crosses her arms. "You can say you're sorry."

  21

  Persephone

  "Of course, I am sorry," Hades says, sincerity filling his eyes. "More than anything in the world, I'm sorry."

  His words hit home. It feels so good to hear him say them. But I don't need any of them to grovel.

  Still, the idea of all of them on their knees, begging for my forgiveness, isn't exactly unappealing either.

  Twenty-one years is a long time to pay for a crime you never committed.

  Before they are able to properly apologize, though, Harlow begins to progress in her labor. She needs me.

  "It's okay, Harlow," I tell her. I rush to her side and drop to my knees. I run a hand over her brow, then yell for a glass of ice water and some ice chips. Poseidon snaps his fingers, and immediately he procures what our daughter needs.

  He is the God of water, after all. He brings me the ice chips and the cool glass of water. I offer the soothing drink to our daughter, who sips it readily.

  "You're being so brave," I tell her. Memories of when I labored for my girls rush over me. I was so happy, so elated to be giving birth to my daughters.

  I want this moment to be a positive and happy one for her too. I pray that her partners get here in time.

  "I'm so scared," she says. "I need my guys with me. To be here, holding my hand." But then her
soft voice is quickly replaced with a loud cry as her contraction hits and echoes through the room.

  When it passes, she speaks again, "The doctor said I was going to have four babies. Just like you did, Mother."

  My heart aches at the word. Mother. My little girl is becoming a mother herself. We lost so many years, but now we will get a chance to make up for lost time.

  "You're so beautiful; so strong," Poseidon says to her. "Please, daughter, forgive me for what I did to you. Forgive me for the harm I caused."

  Tears are in Poseidon's eyes as he looks down at his daughter, whose eyes are also filled with tears.

  "I forgive you, how could I not? You knew not what you did."

  And that is the truth of it for so many of us in this room. We knew not what we did.

  The Fates deceived us.

  But in the end, love will conquer all.

  "You're gonna be okay, sweetheart," I say soothingly. "Your boys will be here any moment."

  I press my hands on her belly and relief washes over her face. "Don't let go," she says. "Your touch is so soothing."

  My face lightens, I've never been able to use my gifts as a goddess. As the Goddess of Fertility.

  Just then, her four sailors rush into the house, and Harlow's face brightens.

  "You made it," she says. "I was so scared you'd miss it."

  Crew quickly comes over and drops to his lover's side. "Your fathers showed up and were trying to kill us this time."

  Beside me, I feel Poseidon tense, and a hush falls over the room.

  "It isn't what you think," Harlow tells him. "We've made amends."

  "With those killers?" Eric asks.

  "It's not like that," she says, and she begins to explain what happened since we were apart.

  The anger seems to fall from the men’s faces, but I still sense a lack of trust between the mortals and the gods. But I understand that -- the gods have spent months trying to capture and kill the women they claim to love. It would be insane to think they would automatically trust them after everything they have been through.

  As another contraction rages through Harlow, I step away, giving the lovers space. I press my knuckles to my lips, watching as the men cover her with kisses and encourage her. Tell her how well she's doing.