There were other images, ones that felt like the future, as though she’d suddenly been given some mysterious doorway to see what was going to happen. That was why she didn’t stop watching the television; the images always ran there, just underneath whatever show was on at the time.
Over and over she saw the young man; he called to her, wanted her to come home with him. When she failed to heed his call she saw terrible things:
Ares in bed with Aphrodite. They were laughing as they made love.
She saw herself alone in a small dank room filled with shelves of old books and her old bed from the island. She was in labor, Raven was coming and she was alone. She cried out for help but no one came.
And snakes.
The snakes were always there today, just after Hera left the bedroom and she sat up there watching “Bones”, snakes kept running past her eyes. At first, they were so vivid she thought they were on the TV as she watched the pair of black slithering serpents with glowing amber eyes go by. When ‘Bones’ didn’t say anything about the snakes Alena saw at her feet, she knew they were in her head. They were menacing and so very real as they reared up at her as they made to strike, their sharp fangs dripping venom, and Alena cringed and pulled back away from them. It took all she had not to scream. Sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference between what she was seeing on the TV and what was only in her mind.
She saw it right now, clear as day, its head rearing back to strike—she just couldn’t say it! Trying with all of her might to shout out the word at the top of her lungs, all she could do was hiss.
“Alena?” Ares asked as his eyes narrowed on hers only to see that vacant stare return as her face fell ashen. Before he could say anything else, someone upstairs let out a bloodcurdling scream followed by a loud:
IV
“HELP!”
It sounded like Onya.
The shrillness in her voice pushed the fog away from Alena’s mind for a moment as she saw the alarm on Ares’ face and knew what was up there. “Go,” Alena hissed at him, wishing she could run up there to see if Onya was all right. “Now! Go!”
“Don’t you dare move from there,” Ares warned before vanishing. Rematerializing in his bedroom, he found Onya standing on one of the chairs by the hearth nervously jumping around as she scanned the floor. Arianna was standing on the nightstand, having knocked over the oil lamp and starting a small fire. With nothing more than a puff of air from his gigantic lungs, Ares put out the budding flame before turning to Onya, who was red-faced and stuttering as she pointed to the floor.
“Snnna-snna-snnannana—”
“What is it, woman!”
“SNAKE!” Onya finally managed to shout.
“There are no snakes on Olym—,” Ares’ words were cut short by the sight of a very large and extremely deadly asp slithering up the back of the chair serving as Onya’s retreat. Its black head turned toward the God of War as its forked tongue lapped at the air searching for its prey. For half a second, Ares couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Wondering about where the snake came from was quickly pushed aside when Onya screamed again. “Stop!” His command was directed to the intruder but Onya thought he was talking to her. Shutting her eyes tightly she tried very hard to stand still even though her legs had other ideas. The snake did not stop; in fact, its soulless black eyes seemed to taunt him as its head reared back and the asp prepared to strike. Even as the fireball appeared in his palm, Arianna shouted out:
“Kill it! Kill it, my Lord!”
Ares let the ball of flame fly, hitting the asp directly in its ugly head. The snake’s body convulsed as it jolted into the air and then fell dead to the floor in a charred clump. “Where the hell did that come from?” Ares roared.
“I don’t know but there’s another one!” Onya returned in her panicked shriek. “I saw it! I saw two of them!”
Standing on her tiptoes on the nightstand Arianna nodded her agreement. “I think it went out the door.”
The growing confusion in Ares’ mind turned to sheer and utter rage. “Alena!” Bounding out the door with his eyes fixed to the shiny black marble floor, it was most difficult to tell if the second asp was ahead of him or behind him. “Where is it?”
Onya and Arianna hurried out of the master’s bedroom just in time to see Ares running down the corridor toward the massive marble staircase. They wasted no time in chasing after him.
With an eerie stealth, the asp slithered quickly down the steps, dodging fireballs as it made its way toward its goal. Black marble blew apart in chunks, sending heavy debris through the air before it crashed to the ground, breaking into dust.
Ares took the stairs two and three at a time as he struggled to catch up with the snake that was faster than he’d ever seen. Hot balls of fire ripped through his palms but he couldn’t get a bead on the damn thing as it zigged and zagged its way toward the Throne Room.
Alena was struggling to rise as she listened to all the commotion when the asp suddenly came into her view. “Oh dear Gods, its real,” she muttered. At first she thought it was a Black Mamba, and for one terrible moment she was back in Jaakim’s tent strapped to the bench and feeling the sting from the venomous bite of the snake.
Unlike the baby Black Mamba that tried to coil as it hissed and struggled to be free of the men, the asp seemed to recognize her. It seemed to stop for the briefest moment and stare at her before swiftly sliding across the slick floor toward her.
Alena’s belly was so big and Raven never stopped moving, even though she tried to raise her legs off the floor and bring them up close to her body, it was no good. The idea of springing to the seat of the new throne was nothing but a fantasy. All she could do was bring her knees up partway and wrap her arms around her stomach to protect her Son. Raven tumbled and kicked inside her as though he felt the nearing danger.
Rising up high into the air, the snake stared at her undulating belly. Its forked tongue tasted the air as its head danced around. Sensing the fear radiating from its victim, the asp froze in place as its pitch black eyes locked with her frightened gray ones. Alena let out a gasp as the horrid thing seemed to smile at her.
“Don’t move,” Ares said quietly as he froze in place, seeing the asp eye his Wife and unborn Son.
“Ares?”
At the sound of his voice, the snake turned its head to look back at Ares, who saw the same smile on its thin lips. Rising higher into the air until only the very tip of its tail was supporting it, the asp opened its mouth with a steely hiss, revealing sharp fangs dripping poison.
Whipping its head around for the final strike, Ares let a fiery lariat fly from the palm of his hand, which wrapped around the snake’s neck. The asp let out a hiss as the flames began to cook its scaly skin and its slippery body rose off its tail, high into the air. It was propelled backward by the rope of fire, sliding across the black marble floor, flapping and hissing until the flames burnt all the way through, severing its head from its body.
Thick acrid smoke rose from the smoldering serpent; Alena held her shaking hands to her face to block it from her lungs as she started to cough.
The women, who had stopped on the bottom of the staircase seeing what was happening inside the Throne Room, now rushed inside.
“Don’t breathe it in,” Ares warned as the three of them entered the room. Waving their hands hurriedly in the air to clear the smoke away from her as they held their own breath, the women made their way to the Lady of the House.
“Open a window,” Onya told Arianna. “Hurry up!”
Arianna didn’t hesitate to do as Onya told her; she threw open the nearest window as high as she could and went on to the next. Biting cold winds flew into the Throne Room, making the air in their lungs exit in puffs of white.
With the wind blowing back his midnight hair, Ares fell to his knees in front of Alena, wrapping her in shaking arms. “Are you all right? Did it bite you?”
“I—I—I’m…oh-kay.” Holding on tightly to her Husband, Alena
buried her nose in the nape of his neck as the last of the foul smelling smoke cleared from the room.
From behind, Onya wrapped another blanket around Alena’s shoulders to ease her shaking. “Where did those things come from?”
“Good question,” Ares returned as he held onto Alena. If the lone fact that the top of Mount Olympus was far too high and far too cold of a place for snakes to inhabit weren’t enough, there was the secondary fact that they didn’t seem like ordinary asps to him. He surprised the first, caught it off guard and killed it easily. The second moved like a guided missile. “I’ve got a really good answer.”
Just earlier today he’d been thinking how odd it was that Zeus had been so quiet. True, they were unable to attend this week’s Sunday Dinner due to Alena’s temporary incapacitation, but that shouldn’t have stopped the Old Man from stirring the pot. Now it was clear Zeus was only biding his time as he lulled them into a false sense of security.
“I’m taking you to a safe place. Onya, you follow me.” Ares picked up Alena and carried her down to the basement, where he opened the padlocked door to the old armory. As he made his way through the room at a swift pace, the torches lit up as he passed. Winding his way behind the armor that had captured Alena’s attention, Ares held Alena in the crook of his thick arm as he waved his free hand in the air and the wall of black marble disappeared.
Inside the secret room the air was dank and cold. The wall behind them sealed shut and the three of them stood in pitch darkness before Ares commanded the hearth to spring to life, showing them a rather large room covered in dust. Fashionable it was not, but it was functional. Two walls contained floor to ceiling shelves stocked with food. The other two walls contained floor to ceiling shelves stocked with weapons. A crude wooden table and chairs took up the center of the room while scattered about the sides were eight bedrolls, each with a pillow and a woolen blanket. On the far left side of the room was a more proper bed. “I know it’s not the Ritz, but Onya will fix it up any way you want,” Ares said as he laid Alena on the dusty bed. “It will be warm in here soon,” he assured as he covered her with the equally dusty blanket.
“What is this place?” Onya asked as she looked around and wandered over to the bed.
“It’s a bunker,” Ares replied, knowing he didn’t have to tell Alena that. By the look in her eyes, she already knew this was the Fortress within the Fortress, and she wasn’t happy to be here. “No one can get in here without me. You’ll be safe here, understand?”
Alena let out a grunt and then nodded. Even in her slightly addled state she knew snakes did not live on Olympus. Someone sent it to attack her and to kill Raven before he could draw breath. That was what her vision had been trying to tell her and everyone knew who was responsible. If that was true—and certainly it was—then her visions of giving birth alone might also be true. This seemed to be brought home to her by her new and oh so familiar surroundings.
How soon would it be until Ares and Aphrodite began their affair?
Had they already?
“Sweet,” Onya replied, taking in the dark masculine quality to the room, “could definitely use a little help.”
“No sass now, huh?” Ares warned sharply. “You just stay with her. I’ve got serious business to tend.”
Hera said she was going to visit with Poseidon; this was something she did on all of their birthdays from time in memoriam—except during Ares’ exile, and then she never showed. Zeus used this most opportune moment to strike at Alena and Raven, but he wasn’t going to get away with it. With Hera gone for the day, Zeus thought he was free to play, but so was Ares.
The Old Man was going to pay for this.
Chapter Ten
An Old-Fashioned Greek Tragedy-Part II
I
Rage boiling within him, Ares made his way to Zeus’ Palace through the bitter cold and biting wind. He was so full of fiery fury that each step he took left melted snow in its wake. “Father! FATHER!” Ares shouted his warning as he stormed up the steps to Zeus’ Palace with two dead asps clutches in the palms of his burning hands. “I know it was you!”
Before Ares could beat his fists against the heavy oak door, it opened. “Problems, Lover?”
Ares found himself stopped cold and staring into Aphrodite’s blue eyes. “Don’t ever call me that again.”
“Oh, I think you’ll change your mind about that in a minute.” Aphrodite stepped aside to allow Ares entrance to his Father’s palace. “What’s that? Dinner?” she asked, pointing the remains of the asps.
“Perfect for you, you little viper,” Ares sneered. “Where’s my Father? What are you doing here?”
“Me?” Aphrodite feigned innocence by putting the flat of her hand against her heaving chest and batting her eyelashes at him. “I just came to visit with my Brother. Follow me; I believe he’s waiting for you.” Taking her hand away from her heart, she waved it in the air with a titter as she walked away.
Already not liking where this was heading, Ares followed at a safe distance while his eyes scanned around him until they came to Zeus’ opulent Throne Room. There the God of Gods was lounging upon his Grand Golden Throne stuffing his old mouth with grapes as Apollo sat next to him.
“Ah, Ares, my Son,” Zeus said brightly as he rose from his throne and smiled. “Come in, come in.”
“My Son, is it?” Ares heatedly tossed the dead snakes at Zeus’ feet. “You tried to kill my Wife, and now you want to have a little pow-wow?”
“I just wanted to make sure that I had your full attention,” Zeus said coolly.
“How did you get these into my home? Don’t lie,” Ares warned.
“I put them under your Mother’s cloak. She brought them in with her without even knowing it.” Once the snakes were inside Ares’ Fortress, Zeus was able to see through the cold eyes of the asps as he controlled their every movement. “Grape?” He tried to hand Ares the silver tray laden with fruits and cheeses but moved it away before Ares could send it flying out of his hand. “Still the same Ares, I see. Your impending Fatherhood has done nothing to smooth out those rough edges.”
“This isn’t a social call, you foxy old bastard.”
“Manners are still important,” Zeus chastised and then proceeded to remind his Son of something very important. “I didn’t have to wait until your maids were in the room. I could have made them attack the moment your Mother left her alone.” Plucking a grape from the bunch and turning it around between aged fingers, he leaned forward on the Grand Golden Throne sitting upon its solid gold platform ten steps high and gazed down at Ares with an icy stare. “If I wanted her dead, she’d be dead.” The grape between his thumb and forefinger split open under the crushing weight of his grasp, juice and pulp spurting into the air before the God of Gods popped the remains of the fruit into his mouth and licked his fingers clean, never taking his eyes from his Son. “So show some respect, hummm? Take a seat.”
Still standing behind Ares, Aphrodite rudely shoved a velvet padded wooden chair behind Ares’ knees, forcing him into it from the unexpected impact. “Comfy?”
“Go over there with him,” he pointed to Apollo, “or isn’t he getting the job done anymore?”
Bending in close to him so that her nearly bare bosom nestled below his eyes, she ran her fingers through his long dark hair and cooed in his ear, “No one does it like you, Lover.”
Tempting as those big tits always were, Ares wasn’t in the mood to play with her. Raising his eyes to meet her gaze, he planted a hand against her heaving breasts and gave her a harsh shove. “Get away from me.”
While Zeus found it very entertaining to watch Ares squirm, they had serious business to attend. “That’s enough, Aphrodite. Get over here.” With an extra wiggle in her hips, Aphrodite nearly glided over to Zeus and Apollo. She stood next to her current Lover while salivating over her prior one.
Ares came here with a full head of steam ready to do battle with his Father if necessary, but now he felt like a rat in a trap. �
�Cut to the chase, Father. What do you want?”
“An heir.”
At first, Ares thought he hadn’t heard Zeus correctly—indeed, upon first hearing he thought Zeus said he wanted some air but that didn’t make any sense. “You mean other than me?” Ares was next in the succession for the Golden Throne of Olympus.
“You’ll never sit on this throne.”
That wasn’t news to Ares, and he didn’t argue the point that Zeus had the power to name his successor and skip right over his oldest Son. “Even though it is my birthright and all that, fine Father, whatever you want. You still have several heirs.”
“I want new blood.”
“It’s good to want.” Ares eased back in the chair.
“It’s better to have,” Zeus politely lobbed. “So you will give them to me.”
Turning his smoldering eyes upward to meet Apollo’s gaze he ventured, “You dying or something?” Not that Ares would ever get that lucky but still it was a pleasant thought. Apollo didn’t answer; he just stood there stone-faced. It seemed Apollo wasn’t good enough to sit on the Golden Throne, either, and that was news to Ares. Now Ares leaned a little forward to look his Father squarely in the eye. “Again, Father, I already gave you an heir. If Eros doesn’t suit you, that’s not my problem. I won’t insult you by suggesting that Raven…”
“Never. I won’t have any half-breed offspring of that Dark Fae sitting on my Throne.”
“Alena’s not a Dark Fae,” Ares countered swiftly.
“Any Fae,” Zeus hissed. “Besides, we all know what happens to the Sons you bring into this world, Ares. After their mothers suffer and struggle through the pregnancy, if the birth itself doesn’t kill them then they get to stand by and watch as their beloved boys lose their minds. When they do, they’re dangerous. They turn into the Hitlers, Ted Bundys, and Jim Jones’ of the world, don’t they? The same will happen with Raven, mark my words.”
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