“Because if we sacrifice him, perhaps our grandmother will come!”
“What!” I flapped my hands. “Go! Shoo!”
“Have you lost your mind, Cenia?”
“Have you!” She pointed the knife at me then seemed to realize herself dropping it to the ground. “Oh. What am I saying? Sister, I’m so sorry.” More tears and then a long yawn. “I’m rather tired. I think it’s the wine. I will lay down, all right?”
She settled herself in my bed, and I gazed at her slight form, thinking how before I would have fought for Cenia. Even to the death.
I thought perhaps our doors would be bound with enchantment. They were not even locked. The king was so assured that we would do his bidding, I suppose.
I opened the door to my room and walked the hall. It was night—only one torch lit tens of feet between, so each turn was dark with shadows.
I was wary, but still missed the lump of darkness in one such turn.
He moved into the light, his hood in place, only this time, I could see green eyes floating within.
“Ascalaphus,” I said.
He leaned on the wall, scoffing. He had a knife that he played with. “Even on your lips that name is hideous.”
“Well, what should I call you? God-king…?”
He made the noise again. Derision. “King is fine for now.”
“And may I see your face?”
“The face of your killer? Should I back up? Will you stab me once more?”
I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to beg him to listen to me and let us go. But I was tired, and the wine had softened my spine. “I will not, king.”
Another sound. This one of disappointment.
But the cowl was removed. He plucked the edges, drawing it back in a quick movement.
I gaped upwards at Ascalaphus, my eyes hardly believing what I saw. His hair was long and darker than my own. Black as the depths of the sea, it held no light within. He had green eyes that casted a hazy reflection. Instead of glowing golden skin of the Olympians, he was as moon-made as I was. Now that we stood face to face, even with him leaning, he was taller and broader than Arman, but far darker.
In a contest of darkness, I would lose. I would not even hold a black candle to his depth.
“Not what you expected.”
I stifled a gasp. When he spoke, his incisors appeared—they were sharpened ever so slightly. His green eyes were creased by high cheekbones, giving him an animalistic nature.
“No,” I said quietly, trying to adapt this image to the one I’d pictured before.
“You expected a golden Olympian. A son of Zeus.”
He held his hands out as if to say, “Sorry to disappoint” and I gazed at him overlong to my embarrassment. In my darkest dreams. In everything I’d ever imagined about the Olympians, Ascalaphus was closer to Hades in appearance from what I’d been told than Zeus. Other than the green cat eyes, he was night.
“And I?” I said. “Had you pictured a glowing daughter of Hyperion?”
He smiled revealing those sharp teeth. “I had. Your sister was what I imagined. Her obvious beauty was easy to expect.”
“Obvious. Yes.” Cenia being beautiful was as breathing air for the rest of us.
I frowned at him, longing to hold my pale glowing skin next to his to compare. “We are, both you and I, moon children then?”
He laughed, deeply. “No. Lady. I am a child of the underworld.”
Damn the wine. I gasped my shock loudly enough to echo. Acheron, his father, was in the underworld, I knew. The river of pain was not a story I’d missed in my studies, but to be a child of such a place…
“How?” I asked.
He cocked his head. “It is very strange to you…?”
It was. It was death and fire and rotting and punishment. Its walls would steal your power if you stayed overlong. And its king was meant to send you to your doom…I shivered.
The humor bled from his face when he noticed my expression, and he straightened. I had offended him and had no way to repair it because the wine had made me careless.
Here I was, the strangest of moonchildren, and my judgement, much like Cenia’s, was cast so easily. I felt shame. But I had come for a reason, so I lifted my chin and met his moss-colored eyes. “My sister’s betrothal. You know that a human is beneath her. Please. Why can you not let her go? You have me…willingly.”
He arched a dark brow. “Willingly? Is that what you call attempted murder? You gave your word and then you struck me down.”
“You look very well for being struck down, Olympian.” The sneer was well met as he curled a lip in return.
“Your word is as good as all titan’s.”
I huffed, copying his sounds to perfection. “And your abuse equal all of your ilk. Besides, I gave my word to… Arman. And he was…”
“Dead. Yes.” Pain flashed across his face, and I felt my stomach drop through my soles.
“I am sorry for that, king.”
He waved it away, but I could see the slight tremor in his hand. “Is a human truly beneath her?”
I was becoming exhausted. “Yes,” I said in exasperation. “Of course, they are.”
“Good. Then perhaps it will teach her a lesson.”
I practically snarled. “It is not your place to teach Cenia lessons.” It was mine.
The king stepped forward; his chin tucked to look down at me. “She’s spoiled and she’s pretty. The Olympians will love her. If your father has his way, he will trade her for more power. That. I cannot abide.”
I scoffed. “You speak as if you are not one, sir. And pretty? Cenia is…”
“Petulant…?”
“I was going to say…”
“Witless…?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” My fists were balled up at my sides. “She could take Aphrodite’s place.”
He laughed, full out to the belly. “Who told you that? Your father? Utter pride! It will be his downfall!”
But I felt like it was a farce covered by humors. He had taken one look at Cenia on his shoreline and he had her now. Just another god maneuvering what he felt was his to take. Just another man lusting after the jewels in flesh that women are. Rarer than jewels because we could end.
Even immortals can die.
I tried another approach. I leaned even closer until the heat and power of him mingled with mine. I was surprised to see the reaction of my powers. They coiled and purred instead of rebuffed. “She is special, and you know it, or you would not have kept her.”
His eyes turned to slits, narrowing on me.
My voice was softer because I was too tired to fight. “She could be traded for power, you said it yourself. So why not let her have a choice of the Olympians and gain that power for your kingdom? But please, she is just a child. Ascalaphus, I cannot bear to see her given to a man who would harm her.”
“Alec.” His voice was tight with strain.
“I’m sorry…?” I searched his gaze in confusion.
“I have not gone by Ascalaphus since I was a child. My name is Alec.”
“Alec,” I said bowing my head in respect. “She is so young, barely fourteen in human years. That is even young for a mortal to marry. Can you not…”
His voice was as weary as my own. He reached for my chin to lift it as he had in the forest, but I did not stay still. I moved out of reach. His touch stirred something in me. “She would merely be betrothed until she was old enough to marry. And she will marry a human. A good man of my choosing. A man of status. It is what’s best for her.”
“Best for her? Or best for him? Tell me, have you already promised one of your regents a pretty bride? A powerful titan-blood to breed them heroes. Be honest with me. Is that what this is?”
He could not hold my gaze. Guilt made his cheeks tinge ever so slightly.
Knowledge was a weapon and every bit he gave me a part of my arsenal now.
“Child of the underworld, indeed.”
His reaction was a
s I’d hoped.
I spun on my heels and stalked to my rooms.
Cenia was awake and very drunk. “Has he relented?” she slurred.
“He has not.”
She pillowed her head on her arms. “It is no matter, sister. I will kill the man who tries to touch me.” She hiccupped and nearly fell back to sleep, but I roused her.
“Sister, has father told you who Alec’s mother is?”
“Who is Alec?” she murmured.
“The king. He has another name.”
She snorted. “Perfect for him, isn’t it? His mother was Orphne or that’s what mother says is what she learned.”
And then the exquisite Cenia snored like a piglet in deep sleep, and I brought a blanket to cover her.
From my balcony, I watched the ocean. My father had always taught me that names had such meaning.
For the gods, they were prophecy almost. My name meant goddess of love and night. At least one part was correct.
Orphne, Alec’s mother was to mean darkness. How exact.
And Alec was a good choice for the king. For it meant defender of men.
Chapter 6
My sister was given dress after dress to choose from. Jewelry and perfume. Gifts from the king. I tried not to be jealous of the attention and was also quite curious for what purpose he had in giving her such fine things to wear.
Did it please him?
Had it been a ruse and he really meant to marry my sister after all?
Cenia flourished outside the shadow of my father. She ate, and danced, and had musicians into our suites. Into the main room of our part of the castle, she’d brought servants for us to use, making certain that all of the candles were lit from dawn to dusk and then even later. We had no need to sleep.
Rather, I had no need.
Cenia was sleeping like a human, what with all of the wine she guzzled each day.
And the king made sure we had all that we ordered. It was as if he preferred us fuzzy-brained.
Like a siren, she sang into the wind, luring ships to shore. She enchanted servants until they left her gifts as well. Little carved horses. Beads strung together of every color.
The king did not seem to mind. Rather, he seemed to encourage her bawdiness. He allowed us into the village and onto the shore with only a few guards. He gave us freedoms as if we truly were guests.
One night, I happened upon him there lurking in our halls once more, and I asked him what would happen should we tried to leave.
“I supposed you’d both drown. You may be many things, Freya, but a sailor is not one of them.”
I had opened my mouth to argue, and he’d laughed that deep laugh he used as a barrier between us. “Absolutely none of my men, enchanted or not, will aid you and your sister in an escape. You’d sooner learn to fly.”
“Maybe I will.” In my coolness, I’d hid my smile at his surprise.
As little as I knew about the Olympians, the king knew even littler of us.
My sister and I collected the shells we wanted. Our room overflowed with the thing that had started it all, but they were so beautiful and smelled of the ocean, so we continued our quest. It spread far and wide to the heroes of the neighboring countries, that through the fog, on the shores of the largest of the seven islands, you might spot the titan sisters, one bright as the other dark, hunting for shells in bare feet and wet robes. Laughing like children and singing like sirens. Though it was mostly Cenia who did the singing.
Every day there were new visitors to the castle.
Every evening new, curious eyes watched us from just out of reach.
For the king forbade visitors to our suites and to our shore. If we were in the village, it was a fair bet that the gods and goddesses who longed to greet us would not be visiting on the same day.
Tourists also came, men and heroes, warrior princesses, and basic merchants. They needed to know, “Were the tales true?”
We had been a secret all our lives. The men and gods alike longed to be a part of this moment in history where Titus himself was thwarted by an Olympian.
Perhaps the Olympians saw Alec as one of them, but truth be known, I knew that he did not.
Still, he seemed very pleased of what we did to his island.
It made me wary.
I found Alec one day in his throne room, my feet still bare and wet, and my shells in my bucket. My hair, drying and crusted with salt.
He wore his cloak. He had just been riding and smelled like a horse and sweat.
He liked doing human things.
If I were honest, I’d say I was charmed by it.
Instead, I was a coward, and turned up my nose at the strangeness of these actions. My sister had rubbed off on me since arriving, and the humans grew more distant by the day. And with them, their defender king. “Why do you allow this?”
I gestured with the bucket at how he let us roam free and attract the attention. He shrugged.
“I mean, more ships come every day. Was this your plan?” I lifted my shoulders in a mimicry, with a glare. “We must be interrupting the day-to-day here in your palace. You don’t seem like one to crave attention.”
“It serves a purpose,” he said carefully. “Those ships are not mine and they are not your fathers. They create a hedge between us. As long as the Olympians sail in, your father’s men will not dare to sail through their passage.”
“The gods have no need to sail.”
“Ah,” he said lifting a finger. “But they do. How else will they see you on the shoreline? They cannot come there; I have forbidden it.”
I was struck by how strange it was. The gods would obey this king of men and his tiny islands and fortress?
He read my thoughts. “Be wise in your allies, Freya. Be wise in your friends.”
It would be the best advice I’d ever received; I just didn’t know it yet.
His peculiar eyes glanced at me up and down before his mouth lifted on one side. “You are enjoying my shores. It does you good, I see.”
“I am.” I smiled ruefully and much like a human. But I felt ashamed. Shouldn’t I hate my prison? “It is such a beautiful place. It is impossible not to be charmed by it.”
“Truth,” a deep voice said from behind me. “And we joke that Alec did not wish to marry a queen but a place. And now you see why. Her mounds are incomparable, are they not?”
I turned to find a man who in every way was Alec’s likeness. Even the tilt of his head and the gleam of his piercing green eyes. The only difference was, his skin was just slightly more golden, and the hair was bright red. He smiled at me and dipped his head. I tried to curtsy, but my robes stuck to my legs making me clumsy. He laughed, and I saw the two sharp teeth.
If Alec was as a cat, then his brother was the fox.
“Brother,” he said striding over to hug Alec, pushing back his cowl, unhooding the king playfully. “Still hiding in the daylight, I see. It is still so strange up here, isn’t it?”
“Up here?” I asked. For me, this was low. I pictured Olympians high on their mountain. The islands were nearly down in the sea. Poseidon’s rule. “How much lower can we be?” I laughed, and the brother crossed his arms and watched Alec for an answer.
“Who let him in here?” Alec yelled at his guards, apparently humored.
He ignored my question, but the brother must have seen the rudeness in the gesture.
The redhead almost had to squat to be eye level with me, but he managed. “We are from a place much lower, goddess. Has my brother not told you that our home is the underworld? We hail from the rivers of pain and sadness. We frolicked the places of the dead as children. It is true—my brother kept the orchards for Hades, himself, when he was your age.”
“How…” I swallowed with fear. The underworld stories were something you told to children to make them behave. “How old do you think I am?”
“I know your age, Freya,” he said straightening. “Because we know the day you were born. It was a very special...”
I gazed at Milos then Alec in surprise, but Alec would not let the conversation go further. He cleared his throat and it was obvious that he would not let me venture further out of my ignorance. “How did you get through, Milos? I thought I’d have to send a ship. The sisters have caused quite a stir.”
“I forced my way through the throng. So, it’s true,” he said turning towards me, his eyes glittering with excitement. “I thought Apollo mad or drunk on wine. But he was right.” He glanced between me and Alec as if I’d disappear. “You have two titans….Sorry—beauties—here under your roof. When were you going to tell me?”
Alec’s face sobered immediately, and he sighed. “I meant to write but then I thought a visit would be best. I have not been able to leave to come to you, Milos. But I have news…”
“I see that you’ve been too busy hiding the….what? What is it?”
Alec’s face was grave. “The battle was great. I am sorry. I….”
Milos glanced between us, but I shook my head that I had no idea what Alec meant to tell him.
“It’s Arman.”
“No.” Milos searched the hall and then his countenance fell. “Not Arman.”
“He fell in the battle. I’m sorry.”
Milos hung his head in sadness.
I turned away to let them mourn, leaving them to their time for their friend. Secretly, I wished to mourn with them, but I was just a topic of conversation not a part of their lives.
I heard Milos say as I exited the hall, “You have all of Olympus nearly at your shore. Heroes and those who can tell his tale. Shall we not celebrate your victory against the titans, brother? Shall we not have a celebration to bury our friend?” I did not miss the way he inflected the word “titans”. It was the same as when my sister said “mortals.”
“We shall.”
Kanani brought even more dresses for my sister. My clothing had to be cleaned again and again and it was starting to affect my mood, how poorly I was left. I refused to go to the shore anymore in my rags. My hair was always dirty from dragging the floor.
Beware the Fallen: Young Adult Mythology (Banished Divinity Book 1) Page 5