“I’m not going to war over something this stupid,” Alex said, not wanting his fate to be decided by another. “I’m no cheater, and I shouldn’t have to prove I’m not.”
Zeus slapped him playfully on the back. “That you don’t. No man need prove his faithfulness. If Alex does not wish to fight you, Ares, he does not have to.”
“Gather your men, mortal,” Ares said. The God of War leveled his finger to emphasize the rest of his statement. “You will fight, of that you can be certain. Mark my words, by the week’s end we shall be pitted against one another in glorious combat.”
Zeus rolled his eyes as Ares stomped off. “Don’t worry about him. He says that all the time.”
“All the time?”
“All the time. Two nights ago, he declared war on his soufflé when it failed to rise. If I were you, I’d forget him and take your wife home and make love to her while you can still stand the sight of her.”
Chapter Sixteen
Alex, inside the cave of their island home, stood behind his bride, stupefied. “What do you mean, no?”
“I thought that answer was clear enough, Alex,” Euryale answered as she braided her serpents. Sunlight poured in from the mouth of the cave, giving her ample light in which to work as she stood in front of a full-length mirror. She turned this way and that, inspecting the little, black, scoop-necked dress with matching gloves and heels, and making whatever proper adjustments the moment called for. “When I get back, I’ll relish your touch, but I’ve got to get going or I’ll be late.”
“Pfft,” he scoffed. “You can afford it.”
Euryale ignored his remark and smoothed out her dress for the fifth time. “I’m not sure I like this design your culture has developed. Jessica said I should give it a try. Do you think this looks good on me?”
“I think it would look better off you.” Alex’s fingers went for the laces on her dress, but when they were batted away, he decided to take a different approach to his seduction. “Did I tell you I won the javelin event? It was a thousand times more awesome than any fencing tourney I’ve been in.”
“Yes, my dear.” She turned around and kissed him on the cheek. “Only a dozen times. I also heard it from everyone else twice as much in the stands, and that was only moments after I saw it myself.”
Alex put his arms around her waist and leaned in close. “You know you want to.”
“Yes, I do. But the answer is still no.” Euryale squirmed free of his grasp. “I mean it, Alex, I do not want to be late. Aphrodite is hosting the party, and it’s not wise to cross her. She can be as vindictive as Athena, if not more so.”
Alex sulked. “What if I wither and die from lack of affection?”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Euryale grinned and pressed a small, leather pouch into his hands before kissing him once more. “Here, take this. It will alleviate this longing you have for me.”
Alex looked down. “What is it?”
“My first wedding present to you.”
Alex opened the pouch and peered inside. With hands that moved more slowly and more carefully than a surgeon’s, Alex pulled forth his small, plastic pony. “Where did you get this?”
“I found it in the wreckage after you left with Ares,” she explained. “I knew it meant a lot to you, so I thought you might want it back.”
Alex turned the toy over a few more times. “This was given to me by another.”
“I know,” she said. “It’s okay.”
“No,” he replied. Alex took a deep breath and gave it a squeeze, breaking the toy in half. He then threw the two pieces into a nearby brazier and never looked back. “I’m not married to her,” he explained. “Happiness should come from you, not the past.”
“I want you to be happy, but I’d be lying if I said your gesture wasn’t appreciated,” she said while pressing a second pouch into his hands. “But maybe you’ll find this to be more to your liking.”
Alex opened the next pouch and gave a look. “Money?”
“Yes, but I’m ordering you to buy something with it,” she explained. “A piano. Whatever the best money can buy. You were upset at what happened to your last one, so I thought the least I could do was get you a new one.”
“I’m buying my own present?” Alex looked at the gold coins once more. “I thought that was a faux pas.”
“It is. In your case, however, it’ll be therapeutic.”
“I’m not sure this is the best of ideas.”
“Why is that?” she asked, her excitement fading. “I was under the impression that you’d love a new one.”
“I would,” Alex explained. He leaned a shoulder on the wall and debated how much he should share before continuing. “I don’t think you appreciate the monster you’re about to create.”
Euryale laughed, her snakes seemingly joining in at the same time. “I think I know a thing or two about monsters. You are no monster, Alex.”
“I will be if you sit a piano in our home,” he said. “I’ll play it constantly and neglect you at best.”
“And at worst?”
“Berate you for saying something sounds good when it sounds terrible.” Alex tried to stay detached and as matter of fact as possible and kept his eyes away from hers. “It never fails. It’s driven away what few girls I’ve dated over the years.”
Euryale, to Alex’s surprise, giggled. “That’s it? I turn people to stone, and you yell at them and play music?”
“Well…yeah…” Alex replied, now feeling as if he’d made a mountain out of a molehill. “But it’s a mean bit of yelling. You’ll probably cry.”
“No, I’ll get even. I’ve spent thousands of years perfecting the art,” she teased. She pushed the monies pouch into his chest, leaned in, and kissed him softly. “I know what I’m getting with you, and I can handle it. Besides, I don’t need you at my side every waking moment.”
“You don’t?”
Euryale shook her head. “No. I don’t need you to complete my life, Alex. I only want you to share it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I want you to live your life as well and let me be a part of it,” she said. “Enthusiasm for music will not drive me away. If anything, I shall love to sit and listen to you play.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“That’s a good boy,” she said, patting him on the head. “I’ll be home in a few hours. Now go and enjoy yourself.”
Alex pulled her close and placed her arms around his neck. “I love you.”
“You still aren’t getting me in bed, Alex,” she replied.
“I know. I just wanted to tell you that before I left.” Alex kissed her, letting her lips hang on his for a moment before parting. And then off he went, wondering if he had indeed found the best wife to have ever lived, reptiles included.
Chapter Seventeen
Euryale had never been to Termessos before, and she wondered why Aphrodite would pick such a place for a party. Once she reached the city’s theater high atop the Taurus Mountains in Turkey, however, she knew the reason. Even with the city in ruins, scrub taking hold in both the streets and in the pockets of crumbling walls, the theater held a mystical air to it, a place where only the clouds kept one company, fresh, cool air kissed the skin, and the world bustled below, oblivious to anything that happened above.
“Right on time,” Aphrodite said the moment Euryale arrived. She stood in the center of the stage with a plucked rose in hand. She turned the flower over several times before offering it. “For you, my dear,” she said. “Though I suspect it will wilt without its roots in a day or two in such a dry climate. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
Euryale took the flower. She was perplexed by the gift at first, but when she looked around the theater and saw that there were no others about, nor food nor decorations in place, she realized the gift did not represent a token of good will. “There is no party, is there?”
“No,
there isn’t.”
“And there is no one nearby,” she said,
The goddess’s lips drew back into a thin smile. “There is no one nearby,” Aphrodite repeated. “Not for miles.”
A vindictive look shone in Aphrodite’s eyes, and Euryale knew she was about to bear the brunt of the goddess’s anger. “Why are you doing this?” the gorgon asked.
“Does it matter?” Aphrodite replied, trailing a finger on the gorgon’s shoulders as she walked around her. “The only thing that really matters at this point is that there is no one around to hear you scream.”
A massive hand with an iron grip clapped down on Euryale’s wrist. She jerked her head around just in time to see that Ares was attached to said hand before a sack went over her head and her wrists were bound behind her back.
Images of her being separated from Alex for untold swaths of time flashed through her mind. She strained against her bindings, and they cut into her hardened skin. Feeling her blood run down her wrists only fueled her anger, heightened her strength. Her lungs filled with air, and she bellowed while jerking against the ropes. The bindings snapped, and every creature for hundreds of yards in every direction fell over dead.
“A warrior’s spirit!” Ares said, laughing as he clamped down on her upper arms. “I admire the fire in you!”
“You’ve no idea what you’ve started,” she said.
“I know exactly what I’ve started.”
Euryale replied by trying to drive her forehead into Ares, but with the sackcloth over her head, her aim was terrible and she headbutted his shoulder. The God of War’s laughs only infuriated her more, and since she couldn’t see nor move her arms, she sent her serpents to do her bidding.
Seven vipers burst free from the sack, and all seven buried their fangs into Ares’ skin. The venom they dumped into the god’s body was enough to fell a thousand legions, but it was not near enough to cause Ares to drop her, only enough to cause him to howl.
“Good night,” he growled, thumping her once on the head.
Euryale’s world went black.
* * *
Pritch’s Pianos. That was the name of it. Its elegant, black and gold logo of a double P had cost a hefty sum and provided endless delight for kindergarteners in need of a laugh. The store’s showroom of exorbitantly priced pianos catered to a select group of people—people who filled Kleenex boxes with hundred dollar bills and could buy Ferraris with their lunch money.
Alex stood outside the store, staring through the full-length glass windows, and salivated over the selection inside. Would he buy only one? Or maybe a dozen to ensure that wherever he went on the island, a set of ivory keys would always call to him. He could have one on each beach, too, for when the sun rose or set, so that he’d have the perfect scenery for an uplifting ballade or a somber nocturne.
With a smile larger than a titan, Alex strode into the store. He walked past the Kohlers, the Kawais, the Yamahas, and headed straight for the Steinways. Most of the store patrons went about their business, looking at or playing with various models of uprights and baby grands. Only a couple took note of Alex’s entrance, and when they did, they offered themselves a handful of whispers and snickers. Precisely what those whispers said eluded Alex’s ear, but judging by their expressions and gestures, he suspected their comments were directed at the white chiton he wore.
Alex waved to each one and wondered if they’d truly appreciate the free concert they were about to witness. He soon reached the back of the store where the Steinways were, the least expensive one only a dollar below six figures. Nine feet long and almost a half a ton, they were beasts yearning to be tamed. No, they were not beasts, but rather perfection incarnate, having Sitka spruce headboards, sugar pine ribs, heavy brass pedals and a variety of high-gloss finishes.
Alex chose the nearest of three grand pianos and sat down, completely ignoring the Please ask for assistance card that had been left on its top. After flexing his fingers and cracking his knuckles, a practice his first teacher always hated but had never managed to stamp out, Alex let his right index finger drop on middle C. The tone resonated in his soul and seemed to hang in the air long after the strings stopped vibrating.
“Excuse me, sir,” the salesman said, dressed in a charcoal coat and tie and coming to a stop a few paces away. “Might we have a word before you try out that particular model?”
“Don’t talk,” Alex said, both his hands hovering over the keyboard. He needed to warm up. Some Czerny? No, no. Something more complete, more emotional. The perfect piece sprang to mind.
Alex dropped his fingers to the keys, ever so soft. As his left played descending octaves with a somber tone, his right started the perpetual triplets to Beethoven’s first movement of the Moonlight Sonata. Alex shut his eyes when his little finger delicately picked up the main theme, a single, grave voice that sang above a rhythmic undercurrent. Alex continued to play with a gentle touch born from decades devoted to constant practice. Only when his hands lifted from the keys and the performance truly sank into the hearts of all those around, did Alex direct his attention to the man at his side.
“Masterfully done,” the salesman said. “Now if we might—”
Alex held up a finger with such command that the man instantly hushed. Alex’s fingers took to the keys once more, skipping the second movement to the Moonlight Sonata and heading right into the third. The second was quaint, as Alex would put it if he were being polite (for he found it annoying and unworthy of his time), but the third movement was as much of a sight to behold as to hear.
Alex’s fingers blurred as they raced up and down the keys, giving Presto all new meaning. His notes came off as fierce and fiery. The chords he struck were nothing short of bolts of lightning. And when it was over, some five or so minutes later, everyone from the store crowded around and whispered in awe.
“Meh,” someone dared to say from the back, breaking the silence. “Your phrasing could have been better.”
“What the hell do you—” Alex said, twisting around and ready to disembowel whoever the blasphemer was. But when he saw Athena push her way through the crowd, he held back the rest of his comment.
“Quick study, Alex,” she said, smiling and coming to rest at his side. She leaned against the piano with one elbow. “Glad to see my lessons were not lost on you.”
Alex grimaced at the memory. “Yes, well, with all due respect, might I ask why you’re here now? I thought you were done with me.”
“Oh, I am, Alex. I am,” she said. Before she went on, she directed her attention to the salesman still standing near and shooed at him with her hands. “Be gone,” she said. “You have things to do.”
The man blinked and straightened, as if some long-forgotten thought suddenly came to mind. “I have things to do,” he stated. “Please excuse me.”
The small crowd dispersed, and once Alex was certain they were having a private conversation, he asked the only question on his mind. “You were saying?”
“Fear not, Alex,” she said. “I’ve not come to torment you.”
“Oh, thank god.”
“There is something you ought to know, however.”
Alex froze, both in breath and in thought. “Do I want to know?”
“Up to you,” said Athena with a shrug. “Though you’ll find out sooner or later, certainly by the time you get home.”
“Speaking of getting home, I need to get back before Euryale gets worried.” The corners of his mouth drew back into a smile as he reminisced. “She has the cutest expression when she gets anxious—even when she says she’s not. She flips her hair around and the snakes keep tasting the air.” Alex sighed a happy sigh. “Maybe I should get her something nice on the way back.”
“That would be thoughtful of you,” Athena said. “But if you do, don’t get her anything perishable.”
“Why not?”
“She’s been kidnapped, so your gift might spoil before she has a chance to get
it.”
The smile faded from Alex’s face and his mind tried to wrap itself around what Athena had said. “Come again?”
“My brother, Ares, took her,” she said. “It seems he’s still upset about you beating him in the Olympics. You really shouldn’t have used that javelin from Artemis. Of course it’s going to sail far, and of course that’s going to piss him off.”
Alex stared blankly. “This is a joke, right?”
Athena shook her head. “No joke, Alex. Your wife’s gone.”
Alex’s muscles tightened. His jaw set. He could smell the anger wafting from his skin and feel the temperature in his body rise tenfold. “This is insane!” he said, jumping to his feet and knocking the piano bench over in the process. “Why won’t everyone leave me alone?”
“Ares will, once he’s satisfied he’s pummeled you enough.”
“And how long will that be?”
“If you admit to cheating and beg for mercy, I’d wager a couple hundred years ought to do it.
“A couple hundred years?”
“Three tops,” Athena said. Though that response was cheerful, she grimaced a half second later. “Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Well, if Ares is still sore about an incident involving a hydra, you might be looking at spending three centuries at war instead of two,” she said. “Four tops. Definitely no more than four.”
“Now it’s up to four?”
“If you count by millennia, it’ll be over before you know it.”
“I’m not doing that,” Alex said. “I’m going to Zeus. He said he wouldn’t let Ares do this.”
“Dad really isn’t one to get involved in things like this,” Athena said. “Besides, he’s disappeared again. Young maidens and all.”
“Fine, you know what? I’ll get her myself then. Where is she?”
“Termessos. It’s a quaint mountain area, complete with an ancient fortress and a large tower that’s perfect to hold someone prisoner.”
“Then that’s where I’ll go to get her back,” he said, stepping over the fallen seat and heading for the door.
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