OF WAR Anthology Novels 1-3

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OF WAR Anthology Novels 1-3 Page 63

by Lisa Beth Darling


  “Raven wants to see the world.” She said it as though she was commenting on nothing more than the lovely weather they were having lately. She didn’t turn around to look at her Husband, instead Alena just kept staring off at the world below. “Why are we here?”

  “Why are we—” For a long moment Ares wondered if she even knew where ‘here’ was. “I made a deal with Hera, remember?”

  “Yes, but where is here and why is here here?”

  The absurdity of the question jolted through Ares’ brawny body, making him shake his head as it tried to sink in and make sense. “Where would here be if it is not here?”

  The vacant haze in her stormy eyes lifted just a little as Alena turned her head away from the breathtaking view and to Ares. “He is a God yet his home will be here on Earth. Why?”

  Alena hadn’t even come to broaching the subject of just what exactly an Olympian was or how they came to be. Ares felt that was because she just didn’t want to know. That was all right with him because he didn’t want to tell her. “Why isn’t Olympus a place in the Stars? Why has the home of the Gods turned out to be a cold, dusty, drafty, desolate place on top of an earthbound mountain?”

  “Yes,” Alena readily agreed, her eyes coming to life just a little more as she anticipated the answer he was about to give.

  “Why don’t you come back inside with me, sit by the hearth, and I’ll answer your questions.”

  It was getting very chilly and a spot by the fire, maybe with a steaming cup of hot chocolate, sounded nice to Alena who looked down at her belly as she tilted her head downward.

  Ares began to grow angry. Here she was shivering in his arms so hard she was chugging away like a little freight train and she didn’t seem to care or even notice. Worst of all, she wasn’t listening to him, her Husband; she was waiting for someone else to tell her what to do. “Are you waiting to see what Raven has to say?” Ares asked curtly. “He cannot hear you. He cannot hear me. He cannot see through your eyes, Alena. He has nothing to say and even if he did, you’re his Mother; he’ll do as you tell him and not the other way around.” The arm around her shoulder tightened as the one in front of her turned her away from the cliff and back toward the Fortress.

  Inside, Alena settled down on a deep layer of thick pillows. When Ares helped her settle he more or less just let her drop onto the pillows before swaggering off to his Throne of Bones. Sitting upon it, he simply glared at her without saying a word.

  Onya picked up the mess Ares had made and brought them their afternoon meal along with a very large mug of hot chocolate for Alena. Ares slithered from the throne to the table where he sat brooding over the food he’d been waiting to devour earlier and his onyx eyes smoldering at his Wife.

  “Why are you so angry?” Alena asked innocently as she tried to sip the warm cocoa. The mug wouldn’t stay still; it was jittering around in her shivering grasp, sloshing the sweet warm beverage over the side of the ceramic mug and onto her white robe. “Ray—we—I just w-wanted to take s-some air and s-s-ee the v-v-view.”

  “Really?” Pushing his plate aside, Ares stood up, heatedly crossed the Throne Room, kicking pillows out of his way as he made his way over her to her. Without warning, Ares stooped, grabbed a hold of her foot and brought it up high in the air, causing Alena to spill the cocoa all over her face, hair, neck, and dress. Spitting it away from her face as the mug fell out of her hand, she started to protest when he started shaking her foot in her face. “It’s BLUE!” Ares railed. “So is the rest of you!” Tossing her leg aside he got down on his haunches. “What in the name of the Gods would ever possess you to go wandering around out there without your coat and your shoes? Raven wanted you to freeze to death, is that what you’re going to tell me?”

  Wiping the last of the cocoa away from her face, Alena sat up on the wet pillows and tried to remember why she hadn’t put on her coat or her shoes before she went outside. Truth was, she didn’t even remember going outside, or coming down from the bedroom where she had been taking a long nap. She only knew that she woke up standing on the edge of Olympus. From the way Ares was glaring at her, telling him that wouldn’t be such a good idea. “That was…un-nah-ru—”

  “You’re babbling.” If he weren’t so pissed off he’d be more concerned about that fact.

  Yes, she was, and she knew it. It frightened her. For the life of her, in those few seconds Alena couldn’t find the words ‘unnecessary’ and ‘rude’ if the Gods demanded she spit them out or lose her life. Taking a few shallow and then one deep breath, Alena tried to calm herself as her brain fiercely scrambled for the ordinary words. Unable to find exactly the phrase she initially wanted to say, she came up with another one. “Why did you do that?” Her words were uttered slowly, perhaps a bit too slowly. “You didn’t have to, I’m alright.”

  “You endangered your life and the life of my Son.” Ares stopped and looked her square in the eyes. “You expect me not to be angry about that? If so then you married the wrong man.”

  “I won’t fr-eeze to death. I’m Immortal, remember.”

  “Not like me,” Ares asserted, “your Immortality will always be tenuous at best and so will whatever Powers you prove to possess. You could have frozen to death out there or fallen from the icy rocks if I hadn’t seen you.”

  Alena hoped that wasn’t true and she would not have fallen from the heights of Mount Olympus to the world below; then again, she had been terribly close to the edge and she had been completely unaware of it. “I’m sorry if I…” Alena stumbled here not just in her search for the word that was eluding her but also in the hope such a word, once found, would not anger Ares further, “scared… you.” The idea of the God of War being scared of anything was ludicrous, of course.

  Ares snorted and then let out a grunt as he knelt by her side. “You’re a mess.”

  “I believe that’s your fault,” Alena returned with a slight smile.

  “So it is.” Waving his hand in the air, the cooling pools of cocoa disappeared. The pillows were once again clean and dry and so was Alena, who was now sporting a pretty new nightgown.

  “Thank you.”

  Tossing his head around on his shoulders for a moment and letting out a puff of air through his full lips, Ares mumbled, “I’m sorry.” For whatever reason, his shy apology made Alena smile wide. “I’ll get you more cocoa.”

  “Then you will tell me why History is wrong and why Olympus is not in the stars?”

  Taking the empty mug in his hand, Ares rose. “You, or Raven?” he asked offhandedly in his growing concern for Alena’s mental health.

  “Both of us.”

  With a snarl, Ares turned away from her and for once was grateful she insisted on having most things done the Mortal Way. Standing over the new stove and a pan of warming milk gave him time to think of what to tell her. What would satisfy her curiosity yet not be a violation of his Family’s Unspoken Laws. Hot cocoa in hand, he came back into the Throne Room only to remind Alena their time was short; soon they would be expected at Hera and Zeus’ table. To that, she rolled her eyes and let out a loud grunt. “We won’t stay long, ok?”

  “They hate me,” Alena complained as she struggled to sit up. Ares offered his hand and she took it without complaint or hesitation.

  Other than these little Family Dinners, the majority of the Olympians kept their distance from the Fortress since the newlywed couple returned from their honeymoon. “They hate everything that doesn’t directly concern them,” Ares corrected.

  “True,” Alena agreed begrudgingly, not looking forward to suffering through another Family Dinner with the Olympians. She could always pretend she wasn’t feeling well and they wouldn’t argue as Ares whisked her away back to the warmth and safety of the Fortress. “Now, when did Olympus fall from the stars?” she asked as she gazed at him from over the rim of her cup of cocoa.

  “Fall from the stars?” Ares stuttered. “What makes you say that?”

  Alena could be honest in her answer and
tell her Husband that her Son insisted Olympus had once been a True Place in the Stars and a much grander place than this long-forgotten hollow. “History,” she muttered, taking another sip of the sweet chocolate.

  “You want to know where I come from, don’t you? What I, and the others, am? Is this what you’re asking me, my lovely Wife?” Ares brushed a few errant strands of silver hair away from Alena’s haggard face. Her eyes sparkled with the answer; yes. “If that’s the case, then why don’t you ask me what you are?”

  “I’m a Fey,” Alena stammered. Everyone knew that Feys were Earthbound creatures, unlike Humans but still of this planet. Ares was good at sidestepping questions and excellent at being deceitful. Alena was rather proud of herself for finally getting up the nerve to ask her Husband just what he was and now she wanted an answer. The air between them grew thick with silence. “I’ll love you no matter what you say; it won’t change anything.”

  Willful and stubborn, Ares knew Alena wasn’t easily deterred from her goals. “Just like you, I was born of this Earth and so were my Father and my Mother,” Ares answered truthfully. “Olympus is on top of this desolate rock because Mortals are hardly ever so bold as to venture up here. Even if they did, they would pass right by these grand buildings without ever suspecting they or we are here. Humans created History and they think it’s a Place in the Stars and call us Gods, worshipped us and put us high on pedestals because we’re not like them.”

  “So you took advantage of their ignorance?”

  Shaking his head and letting out a sigh, Ares gave her an unapologetic smile. “If you want to put it that way then fine. Just remember, they started it. We didn’t demand worship from the humans on this planet, they thrust it upon us in their desperate, unending and futile attempt to justify their own pitiful existence. To give them a sense of purpose because they deem themselves worthless and therefore need outside validation and praise.”

  With one hand on her belly and her inner-self listening to the small but clear voice of her growing Son, Alena mulled over her Husband’s words, searching for the deeper or even double meaning in them. “So then you’re…” she paused again searching for the right word, the one that would make her point but anger him the least and couldn’t find it. Instead, “freaks,” slipped from her indecisive lips. “Like Cernunnos.”

  Just before the wave of anger could overtake his mouth, Ares eased away from his pretty but curious Wife. “Careful, Alena. You’re treading near something you can’t understand.” As well as being something that he couldn’t speak about to outsiders like his Wife. The History of the Olympians was strictly a private Family matter. “If…freaks…is a word you can grasp then, unhappily, I will accept it and tell you that yes, many of us who were once called Gods are like Cernunnos. However, we are all of this Earth.”

  The slow pace of Ares’ voice and the eyes that burned fire at her told Alena she needed to stop prying now. Yet, the voice that she was certain came from Raven wanted to press onward. “You all come from the same place?”

  Ares’ shoulders squared as his jaw jutted forward. “Yes, and that’s enough. You either accept me because I love you and because you married me for the same or not.” The tone and his posture clearly indicated the seriousness of his warning. “It’s time to go to dinner.” He started to rise but Alena grasped a hold of his forearm.

  “Where is that place? In the Stars?” she asked quickly, her eyes bright and alive with curiosity that Ares feared was not her own.

  “In case you couldn’t tell, this conversation is over. There’s nothing more to discuss.” Rising to his feet and his full height, Ares extended his hand to her to help her to her feet. “My Mother is waiting,” he insisted when she didn’t immediately rise.

  Not wanting to risk making him truly angry, Alena slipped her hand into his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. With her arm around his waist and his around her shoulders, she slowly waddled up the stairs to their bedroom to change out of her comfortable nightgown for another Sunday Dinner with her insane in-laws.

  Chapter Two

  For Worse or For Better

  As always, Family Dinner was a regal affair. The long marble table—which, to Alena, appeared to have been fashioned to suit a dining party of thirty or so—was laden with tasty exotic treats from one end to the other. They were just the appetizers, set out in sumptuous banquet the likes of which the children of Ceres Agar would never see. Thinking of Da’Jave and Sha’Quanda made her melancholy as she took in the plates of antipasto overflowing on the table. Just one of those alone was more than enough to fill all of those starving children’s bellies for at least a day. The bowls were overflowing with Greek Salad so deep, Alena thought she could wade in them. All of that food for just the eight of them, and the worst parts about it were that by the end of evening almost all of it would have been devoured by them, and what was not would simply be thrown away. The castoff of the Olympians was probably enough to feed the starving children in Ceres Agar lunch. So much wasted when so many went wanting, it was a crying shame.

  Between the feast every three feet or so sat candelabras of pure gold intricately decorated with angels, grape leaves, olive leaves, doves, dragons, and more. Each one held a dozen candles in tapered sconces, below which glittered diamonds cut into teardrops.

  The large Spartan room with its lavish furnishings was one of the most beautiful places Alena had ever been, but for all of its opulence it was a cold and desolate place just like the rest of Olympus. Everything in Zeus’ Grand Palace was black, white or gold and usually in a balanced combination thereof. No one color outshined the others or was used solely as an accent. If the floor was black marble, the walls were white marble, the ceiling gold—solid gold. Alena thought that was ostentatious, almost as bad as those ultra-rich people who had their toilets made from twenty-four karat gold. Who needed to hang their ass on and poop through a solid gold loop? Possibly Zeus, although Alena had yet to see that particular metaphorical Throne Room here in the Grand Palace.

  Tonight the soft tones of music played by the Muses stationed discreetly in a far corner helped fill the unseen void and ease the tensions of the heavy silences that were all too prevalent among this most dysfunctional Family.

  The Graces—Aglaia, Euphrosyne, and Thalia—nearly danced as they floated around the room, barely clad in anything but happy smiles as they passed ornate silver trays full of wrapped grape leaves, cheeses, fruits, vegetables and, of course, wine and Nectar to all in attendance. They were so beautiful and full of good cheer that they made it difficult to be in a sour mood when they were around.

  Still, even the Graces themselves weren’t enough to banish totally the heavy atmosphere riddled with the ghosts of wounds old and new. Perhaps if they were dining some place other than Olympus and with people other than the Olympians, Alena might enjoy herself. But they were not somewhere else or with anyone else, no matter how much or how often Alena wished otherwise.

  Hera greeted her new daughter-in-law with a warm smile and open arms as always. After the hug, the Queen of the Gods put her hands on Alena’s round belly to feel the baby move and said the same thing she had for the past several Sunday nights; “Oh, that’s lovely, isn’t it, my Child?”

  “Yes, Great Mother,” Alena replied slowly as she carefully considered each word she spoke. Her lapses were becoming more noticeable and harder to catch; the last thing she wanted was to slip up in front of Ares’ Family. The God of War did not tolerate weakness in those around him and he would not care to be embarrassed by her. “Ra—he’s very active today.” She almost slipped but she caught it. Alena hated not being able to call her Son by his name in front of the Olympians and couldn’t wait until Raven was three days old when she could shout his name from the top of Mount Olympus for all the world to hear if she wanted. If she said his name out loud, Great Mother would frown deeply, shake her head and glare at Alena with those disapproving peacock eyes. Being one of Alena’s few allies and the woman who would bring Raven
into the world, Alena didn’t want to do anything to upset Hera. Dealing with one’s mother-in-law was bad enough—or so she’d heard—but when that Mother-in-law could turn you into a toad with a swish of her finger, it brought the game to an entirely new level. Besides, Alena already had enough eyes staring daggers at her with Zeus. Those old eyes latched onto her the second she waddled into the room and the King of Gods wouldn’t stop staring at her until she retreated through his door at the end of the night.

  “Then you must be starving. Come, sit, eat,” Hera invited with a pleasant smile. “Dinner isn’t ready quite yet but I have a variety of things for you to choose from until then, whatever your heart’s desire, my Child.”

  “Thank you, Great Mother.”

  Waving a dismissive hand in the air, Hera tilted her head back before she shook it. “When are you going to stop being so formal with me? Great Mother. My name is Hera, please, Hera.” Taking Alena’s hand to lead her further into the ornate dining room, she exclaimed, “Oh, so cold. Are you feeling all right? Ares, Ares, what’s wrong?”

  “Hello, Mother.” Ares leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Nothing’s wrong, it’s very cold out there tonight.” That and Alena had yet to fully warm up from her little walk earlier today. Three cups of cocoa, a half an hour standing in front of the blazing hearth, and she was still shivering when they walked out the front door of the Fortress to make the short but frigid journey to his Father’s home. He’d made sure that she bundled up in her full-length lambskin coat with matching long gloves and boots. Still she shivered, her teeth rattled together as she huddled next to him for his warmth. On the way here she stumbled twice and fell once, even though she was clinging to his arm. After that short but adventurous journey here tonight, Ares wasn’t sure just how many more of these dinners Alena would be able to make.

 

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