by Lizzy Ford
My mouth fell open in a gasp. Theodocia’s sharp intake assured me she hadn’t been the one to reveal my family’s secret.
“How can you possibly know of the curse?” she questioned.
“I have my ways,” he said. “What’s important is realizing what’s happening here. This isn’t the work of people. The Oracle may have been speaking the truth when she claimed the end of the world is here.”
His words struck me hard. I’d struggled not to begrudge the gods for the curse they placed on my family. Theodocia, ever a dutiful priestess, was constantly cautioning me against speaking out against the gods and advising me to control my anger towards them. But whenever I thought of my mother, who had been turned to stone when I was four, how did I not consider the gods to be cruel at the very least? How did I not feel fury towards them for forcing my own mother to abandon me when I needed her most? The older I grew, the more difficult it was not to feel that anger. I understood so much more as a young adult than I had as a child. Such as how unnecessary it was for my family to suffer and how any number of gods and goddesses could put a stop to the curse – but didn’t.
And now? When they turned on the people I was duty sworn to protect?
I was a symbol without power. My royal guard was forbidden by the other members of the Sacred Triumvirate from growing to more than a hundred members. I had no ability to be the guardian I was meant to be and yet, watching the City I’d called home my entire life being destroyed by the very gods who cursed my mother, who cursed me, to an eternity of living death, I began to think Lantos made more sense than anyone else in my life at that moment.
Only the gods could destroy a city, a country, for selfish reasons. Only the gods could stop such destruction, if they chose to. I knew from my family’s history that the gods rarely dealt with the consequences of condemning humans. If destroying everything suited them, then they wouldn’t think twice about doing it.
The day I discovered my true fate, I had started to hate the deities, with the exception of Artemis. This night, that hatred was solidifying. How many of my subjects were going to be massacred tonight? For what purpose?
“Perhaps you will be known as the Queen of Death because your reign will oversee the destruction of humanity.” The words were uttered by none other than sweet Tommy, whose eyes were glassy and face was blank.
The phone fell from Theodocia’s hand as she stared at her son in horror. Lantos appeared surprised as well.
I recognized the possession of a god when I saw it and tightened my grip around Tommy, not about to let the poor boy be taken away.
Who are you? I asked cautiously.
“Thanatos.”
Why are you doing this?
“I am here to collect souls and carry them across the river to Hades,” he replied through Tommy’s childish voice. “The underworld remains open, even when the bridge to our home is gone.”
My brows furrowed. What bridge?
“The one the deities use to pass between our world and yours. The Oracle has closed it.”
The Oracle’s diverse powers were somewhat familiar to me from knowledge passed on by my tutors. Many thousands of years ago, the first Oracle of Delphi had been powerful enough to build a bridge, thereby allowing the gods and goddesses to move between our dimension and theirs. But I didn’t recall my tutors discussing the ability for anyone to close the sacred bridge.
“This is godly vengeance?” Lantos asked.
“I do not know. I am only here to collect souls,” Thanatos replied. He faced me, and I shrank back a little when confronted by the empty eyes of Tommy.
Theodocia managed to speak at last. “I swear by the bow of Artemis, if you hurt my son –”
“Your son is touched by the gods, as you are,” came the sharp response. “You know I could not possess him if this were untrue.”
Theodocia’s face was flushed, and I saw the profound confusion in her eyes. As a priestess, she was duty bound to honor a god who chose to possess a body to pass on a message. As a mother, she wouldn’t let Tommy out of her sight.
She was about to explode, and I wasn’t certain if she’d cry or if she’d lash out at someone with the skills she’d been learning from training daily with the royal guard.
“I did not give you a blessing upon your coronation. I am permitted, I believe,” Thanatos said, his attention returning to me.
Please don’t hurt Tommy, I pleaded. I had never heard of a god possessing someone so young. Priests and priestesses were normally apprenticed at the age of eighteen.
“My blessing. Do you wish me to bestow it?” Thanatos repeated.
What kind of blessing? I swallowed hard.
“Death.”
My pulse quickened. I looked at Theodocia and then at Lantos. Neither spoke.
“What do you mean?” Theodocia asked.
“The ability to kill and to become invulnerable to death, save by my hand directly.”
I will not become the Queen of Death, I replied. I am already immune to death, am I not?
“You are. Look upon the City, heiress to the Bloodline, and tell me you do not wish for the ability to bring those responsible to justice.”
“You want her to take on the gods? You cannot put that kind of responsibility on a child!” Theodocia exclaimed. “And besides, it’s blasphemy to speak of such things!”
I am not a child, I argued. And I bear the gods no good will, not after tonight. These are my people, Theodocia. I am supposed to protect them.
“But you weren’t born for revenge. You were born to lead and to protect! Thanatos is too quick to offer you the blanket ability to commit murder in whose name? His?” She shook her head. “The Bloodline monarchs are guardians, not mercenaries. If this is truly an attack led by the gods, then who else will humanity have to turn to but the one woman who can bridge the gods and us? Thanatos must have some ulterior motive to offer you this!”
Theodocia’s dose of truth was as welcome as it was troubling. I was groomed to lead, to balance compassion and necessary action, to act as a mediator between heaven and earth, and to focus on my duty as a reigning monarch first and foremost in every situation. What did a queen do in this situation, when the gods were attacking her people, and she had no army to defend them?
What did I do, if Theodocia was right, and Thanatos’ offer was born of some hidden agenda, one that might serve the pantheon of which he was a member, rather than help me as he claimed he wanted to?
“A queen has many difficult choices to make. This is but the first,” Lantos said quietly.
I studied Theodocia, wishing we had some privacy so we could openly discuss my options. In truth, I felt like I had none at all. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. This was my first day as the queen – and I was failing the ultimate test.
What good am I, if I can’t protect my own people? Can’t stop the gods who favor me? I asked her, hoping no one else heard my desperation.
“We don’t know that you can’t mediate between them,” she replied. “Someone decided to save you. This, to me, means you have the favor of the gods still.”
“The Oracle sent me, not the gods. It’s foolish to assume anything when it comes to them,” Lantos pointed out. “Thanatos is sharing his power over death. Take his offer, Phoibe.”
“No,” Theodocia said quickly.
The two began a heated discussion, and I tuned out to gaze down at the blazing city below us. In a matter of minutes, most of the city was destroyed or burning. If the gods could do this to New York, what would they do to the rest of the country? The world? Even if I accepted Thanatos’ gift, what was one person against the wrath of the gods? How did I stop them?
At one time, my ancestors ruled over the known world and controlled vast armies whose goals were to conquer and then to defend all they’d taken.
Thanatos’ gift, while useful, wasn’t going to stop the gods from destroying everything I’d ever known or from taking someone else I cared about away from me.
My ancestors had the power to protect those they loved and the lands they possessed. I had wealth built up over thousands of years, influence over mortals and was favored by the gods. How did I turn what I did have into what I would need to protect my family, my people?
How did I stop the people I loved most from suffering? My eyes drifted back to Theodocia. I’d lost my mother when I was four. I couldn’t lose the woman who righted my world, whose arms I’d collapsed into and sobbed the first day we met. There were thousands of children who had a Theodocia in their lives, someone they loved with all their hearts.
The gods were taking their mothers away, too, right before my eyes, on the first night of my reign, and I could do nothing to stop them.
My forefathers and foremothers commanded great armies. It was how the balance used to be kept. The gods never did anything like this when my ancestors were in power. Why can I not do the same? I asked.
Theodocia and Lantos fell silent.
“What are you saying? You want to take over some country’s military?” Lantos asked after a pause.
Is it not in my blood to rule? To conquer? To protect?
“Phoibe, you’re smart, and you’re the heiress to the Bloodline. But heading an army? What do you know of such a feat?” Lantos asked. “Whose army would you take over? No country would just hand control of their military to you!”
Then we build our own army. We find every person who lost a loved one this night, every person who wants revenge and who is angry at the gods. I replied. We ask them to fight for me, to seek revenge against those who did this to us.
“You’re better off accepting Thanatos’ gift.”
Why else was I spared, if I’m not destined to right this wrong? I frowned, my face growing warm in quiet anger.
“You don’t get a vote here,” Theodocia snapped at him. She tilted her head and closed her eyes. I recognized her stance. She was listening to Artemis. When Theodocia’s eyes opened, she appeared puzzled. “Artemis says the queen must be the one to decide our course of action.” She was frowning. “Phoibe, please. Do not accept Thanatos’ gift. You know the gods give nothing without requiring something in return. The Bloodline has suffered enough.”
She was right in every way. I leaned back against my seat, pensive. To accept Thanatos’ blessing was to make my already hellish destiny worse without offering me what I needed now: the ability to stop the destruction of humanity. The gods were not benevolent; they were calculating, and they did nothing without reason.
“Give me the gift,” Theodocia said in a hushed voice. “I will become the sword of your vengeance.”
I hadn’t thought of this option – but I liked it almost immediately. Theodocia would be immortal, alongside me. We’d be together until Thanatos decided otherwise. I wouldn’t fear losing her.
But you might be made to kill, I objected. You know nothing of what it means to bear the curse accompanying a gift from the gods.
“I won’t let you suffer more than you already do, Phoibe. I would do anything for you. For Tommy. For Artemis,” she replied. “If Thanatos’ gift means I can defend my children, and help you protect humanity, then I will gladly bear whatever curse I must.”
My children. She considered me one of her own. My gaze misted over at the inclusion.
“I do this of my own free will, Phoibe. Let me help you.”
You have always helped me, I responded. Indecision kept me from accepting her offer outright.
“Let it be so,” Thanatos said via Tommy.
I didn’t object. I was torn. If I could have prevented the curse from taking my mother, I would have. But the order to stop Theodocia would not form, and I knew the selfish reason why. If we were both immortal, I would never be abandoned again. I’d never lose her if she were protected by death from Death.
Crippled emotionally from a young age by my fear of abandonment, I didn’t know what to do when faced with a situation that might guarantee the person I loved most in the world would always be with me.
Tommy stretched out a hand to his mother. She obediently knelt before the possessed child. He traced the symbol of an inverted torch onto her forehead, and then Tommy slumped back against me, released from the clutches of the god.
Uncertain this was the right course of action, I hugged him hard and buried my face into his shirt. The little boy was quaking and breathing erratically. He blinked rapidly and clutched at my arm.
You’re okay, Tommy. I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you.
A rush of air filled the cabin, accompanied by the scent of smoke and burning metal.
I lifted my head in time to see Theodocia shoving Lantos out of the helicopter and into the dark night sky. With a gasp, I watched him disappear. I stared at my guardian as she closed the door.
She sat heavily, her hands shaking.
What have you done? I asked.
“He’s a demigod. He’s not dead,” she replied. “And if he is, it wouldn’t matter. He will betray you, Phoibe. He is the worst kind of man.”
I studied her, uncertain what kind of changes to expect from someone bearing the touch of Thanatos and wondering if her callous act and words were caused by Thanatos or her history with Lantos.
“Artemis said the same thing Lantos did, that the gods are angry, because the Oracle has trapped them here. But she said there is too much happening for her to know the full truth, and that we must act in a way that will position you to challenge the gods one day.”
In the same way as my ancestors? I asked, genuinely surprised the goddess would approve of an idea to challenge her and the other deities.
“I don’t know how else it would be possible,” Theodocia replied. She held out her arms for Tommy. He crossed to her and crawled into her lap.
How do we build an army to challenge the gods?
“I don’t know.” Theodocia shook her head. “Artemis said to take you to DC, which is under the protection of Zeus, so that’s where we’re headed. We need to reach safety first and figure out where to go from there.”
Did you really just throw someone out of a helicopter? I asked in delayed shock.
Theodocia glanced at me then at the door. “Yeah.” She, too, seemed baffled. “I’m not sure what came over me. I wanted him gone, and so … I threw him out.”
Because you wanted to or because Thanatos’ blessing did something to you?
“I’m not sure.”
I didn’t say what I was thinking, that she’d disliked a great many people before this without throwing them out of helicopters. Not only that, but she’d done it in front of her son, who she was normally extremely protective of.
It was possible Thanatos’ gift had a side effect of dulling her sense of compassion. The God of Death was known for having absolutely no mercy. He claimed the lives of deities, demigods, and humans with the same unbiased zeal. I didn’t know how his blessing would affect Theodocia, but I was definitely going to keep an eye on her from here on out.
She hugged Tommy and slumped back against her seat. There were lines around her eyes and mouth, and her breathing was shallow, quick. She was too strong to show the depths of her worry, but I sensed it nonetheless. I felt her building panic and clenched my hands in my lap. I was too wired even to notice the weight of my crown anymore. I was too worried to dwell on Lantos’ fate. The friend I remembered as a child had to have been my imagination, because the man who came to warn me was nothing like him. The sense of loss I experienced when he left me seven years ago was missing, replaced by emotions I was having trouble controlling.
The world was crumbling around us.
Nothing seemed real except for my anger at the gods. A piece of me was vindicated to know I wasn’t alone in feeling forsaken, but mainly, I couldn’t stop thinking about how I was supposed to protect humanity against all-powerful deities when I had no means to do so. My ancestors would be appalled and ashamed to know the Bloodline had been reduced to a ceremonial, symbolic, useless entity at the mercy of lying politicians in w
hichever country had the mightiest military. Greece had not been relevant on the world stage in a thousand years. Despite being directly linked to the gods, its monarchy was a sign of the past, a piece of living history, in the minds of most people.
Maybe it was time for that to change. Maybe, by defeating the gods, I’d save those who came before me, as well as those who succeeded me, from the living death that awaited the heirs and heiresses of the Bloodline.
But how did anyone challenge a god?
As the helicopter took us closer and closer to DC, Theodocia and I could only stare at the television monitors. We watched, entranced, as the widespread destruction of cities spread from the US to other countries around the world. She was on the phone for almost the entirety of our trip. Each time she hung up, her phone rang seconds later, and she was once again speaking to someone else about what was happening. I half-listened to her terse voice as she coordinated our arrival with my security team and responded to the inquiries and reports from the offices of other government officials. My own staff in New York had yet to check in, though the skeleton crew we kept at the DC palace reported they were safe.
Finally, Theodocia turned the ringer off and threw the phone onto the bench beside me. My most trusted friend and advisor doubled over and covered her face with her hands in a rare sign of being overwhelmed.
“Mama?” Tommy asked, going to her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, baby,” she whispered.
But she wasn’t, and even Tommy knew it. He sat down beside her and rested his head against her shoulder. I waited for her to share what else she’d learned from the latest round of calls.
“It’s worldwide,” she said at last and sat back. Her eyes were bloodshot from stress. “Every world leader in attendance at your coronation was wiped out, including the Supreme Magistrate, Supreme Priest and the highest ranking military officials. There’s no one to declare martial law. Everything is … breaking. Social order, first response efforts, the country’s infrastructure. Everything.”