by Juanita Kees
Arian’s head spun as the sulphur she’d smelled earlier reached in, making her dizzy and nauseous. “Jax … it’s not —”
He squeezed her hand. “Trust me, my love. You go inside with the others and I’ll take care of our friend here.” She hesitated a moment and he stroked her cheek with a gentle hand. “Go, I’ll deal with him.”
Panic squeezed her throat. Did Jax know? “Jax, that’s not Craig,” she whispered.
He frowned but said nothing as he nudged her towards the courthouse. Trust me.
Arian nodded and walked to where Zeus had paused to wait for her.
***
Jax waited until the doors of the courthouse swished closed behind them before he turned back to face Craig. “Arian is not a possession. She is a woman with a mind of her own who deserves more respect than you give.”
Craig snorted. “Not much between those ears, my friend. She’s not much good in the sack either.” The few people around them gasped at the insult.
Jax smiled patiently at him, refusing to bite. McMahon’s arrogance would be his downfall as Zeus kept reminding him of his own, he thought, as even the picketers backed away, physically withdrawing their support of the Demons’ star player. If he’d learnt anything over the years in Purgatory, it was that arrogance gained you nothing but false security. “What will it take to make you go away?”
Craig narrowed his eyes, his smile smug. “Is that a threat or a bribe? On national television? I can see the Twitter posts now ...”
“Here’s an idea,” said Jax, ignoring the jab. “If we win the game on Saturday, you walk away. Stop this infernal haranguing by the press and leave Arian in peace.”
“What? You’re playing the charity match? I didn’t see your name on the playlist.”
“Ah, it looks like your coaches may have forgotten to mention the game change. You see, the Redbacks had to pull out due to injuries. You’re playing against the Hellenics … and me.”
“They can’t do that.” Craig’s face flushed, anger radiating in his stance.
“They have.”
“Since when do you play football? You don’t even exist. This is all some scam, I can prove it.”
Jax scowled at him and Craig took a small step back. “You can prove nothing. My lawyer has delivered a sworn statement to the press, and the details of my practice and law degree are listed on the National Register of Legal Practitioners. So, unless you want to find yourself in court on charges of harassment and defamation — back off. Your little attention-seeking game has backfired, McMahon. Arian doesn’t want you, and you’ll never be the world’s next big football star. You couldn’t come close to such skilled perfection. Now, do we have a deal?”
Craig hesitated and then smiled broadly. “You’re on. Hellenics are at the bottom of the league ladder. It’ll be an easy win. Tell Arian to pack her bags, she’s coming home with me on Saturday, because when she sees me trample your arse on that field, she won’t want to know you. That girl likes the spotlight more than I do. I can make her famous. What can you do for her?”
If only the stupid little prick had a clue … Jax grinned and took his satisfaction from the look of frustration on Craig’s face. “I guess I’ll see you on the field.” He acknowledged Hades with a nod, where he stood behind Craig disguised as a reporter clearly in control of the footballer’s mind.
“See you in hell,” said Hades.
Jax smiled. If a game of football was Hades’ idea of a battle, he was in for a surprise when they arrived in Paradise.
Chapter Twelve
“Why can’t Craig leave it be? I’ve never seen him so nasty — arrogant, self-absorbed and egotistical, definitely, but not mean like he was today.” Arian stood with Penny on the patio of the home in Oakleigh and sipped a goblet of Zeus’ brew.
“Must have something up his butt because he’s like a dog with a bone lately, he just won’t let go. He’s an attention-seeker, yes. He always has been. You were too blinded by his charm to see it. Maybe he’s finally showing his true colours.”
Under cover of dark, the harpies had come out to play. Arian wished she could feel the same joy and freedom as they laughed and frolicked about, careful to keep their wings hidden from view. To anyone wanting to spy over the fence or dense hedges, they would look like normal human beings wearing shawls against the night chill.
Unease crawled up her spine, their whole situation totally out of her comfort zone, despite the acceptance in her heart. She scanned the topographical geography of Earth from the safety of a Cessna 172 Skyhawk, not from the saddle on a harpy. Yet here she was sipping magical potion, watching the mystical creatures play, and holding an audience with the great god himself who was currently in a closed door meeting with Ajax the Great, Odysseus and Helen of Troy, discussing secret squirrels’ business. Helen of Troy, for God’s sake.
“Am I just as blind this time around? Are you seeing what I’m seeing here, Penny?”
Penny shrugged. “I’m the one who should be having doubts. I’m the mortal here. Deep down, you know this is real. You’ve never felt like you belong here, Arian. Your gran always said you were more fey than she was.”
“Gran was old and forgetful near the end. One day she was the Faerie Queen, seeing her minions dancing around her in a ring, calling her home. The next she was simply Rhoda, the aromatherapist from Caer Sidi. What if Zeus is wrong?”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do.” Penny put down her drink to hug Arian’s shoulders. “Remember the tea she used to brew whenever we got a cold or a tummy ache? It worked to make us feel better and take the pain away every time, and now we know why. She was a special lady with special powers.”
“Yes, she was. I guess I simply didn’t recognise them as magic. I wish she were here now. I could really do with some guidance, some confirmation that this —” Arian waved her hand towards the harpies, “— isn’t hereditary madness.”
“I’m seeing the same as you are, so either this is one potent brew or we really are hobnobbing with the gods of Olympus.” Penny moved away to pour another drink — water this time.
Arian giggled. “Well, when you say it like that ...” With a sigh, she put down her glass. “I guess I just want confirmation that this is real … that Jax is real.”
Strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind and she squealed as Jax drew her tightly against his chest. The brush of his light beard against her neck made her shiver with pleasure even as her heart pounded with love.
“I have no problem proving I am very, very real,” he whispered in her ear. “But first, I have Zeus’ permission to show you something.” Jax stepped away and she missed the solid reality of his warm, hard body against hers. “Come.”
Her hand clasped tightly in his, he led her inside, along a corridor and into the garage. Shaking his head, he pushed aside the clutter of the twin harpies’ beds. “Typical teenagers, they never make their beds. If only they were as tidy as their mother.”
He pulled a device from the belt of his jeans that looked like an ancient key but instead of inserting it in a lock … he drew a square on the floor of the garage. An area the size of a manhole glowed orange in the dull light of the moon that shone through the little window on the wall. It opened to reveal a staircase spiralling downwards into darkness.
“I’ll go first. Stay close behind me. The stairs are steep and we have quite a way to go down.”
Arian nodded, hitched a finger through a loop on his jeans, ready to stick as close as she could to him. For a moment she questioned her sanity again. What if this was a trap? Perhaps she trusted him too easily?
Sensing her hesitation, he turned around and she let go of him. Tell the truth and shame the devil. Gran’s words of wisdom echoed in her thoughts. “I’m scared, Jax,” she whispered. “This is all too much to take in.”
“Ah, my sweet love,” Jax murmured, taking her face gently between his hands and placing a soft, butterfly kiss on her lips. “You have nothing to be a
fraid of. I could never harm you. You are my heart, my soul, the very breath in my lungs. The only way I can prove beyond reasonable doubt that I am who I say I am is to provide you with tangible evidence.”
“That’s pure lawyer speak.”
Jax chuckled, the sound so sexy against her lips, it quivered through her and set her nerve endings on fire. “No, that’s Zeus speak.” With a teasing kiss below her ear, he whispered, “I’m under orders from the big man himself.”
Arian relaxed against his solid chest and allowed her hands to wander from the waistband of his jeans. “I kinda like him a little too.”
“More than me?” He nibbled lightly at her earlobe.
She shivered against him, delighted at the hiss of breath in her ear when her hands reached their target. “You have a much nicer arse,” she said, giving it a firm squeeze as she pulled him closer.
He reciprocated by mirroring her move, and kissed her breathless as they balanced precariously above the trapdoor in the floor.
“Oh for the love of Aphrodite, would you two please focus on the task I’ve set?” Zeus’ voice boomed around them. “Get on with it.”
Jax withdrew his arms from around her with a grin. “Hold on tight.”
Together they made their way down the narrow, winding staircase. Each step lit before them and darkened again as they passed. Arian drove down the need to peer up into the darkness behind her to see if the way out still glowed above. This was a test of trust as much as it was about what lay concealed below, so she tightened her hold on Jax’s waist and plucked up courage, the solid feel of his body beneath her hands a comfort.
Finally they reached the bottom. A little light-headed from the descent, Arian swayed against Jax, seeking the stability he provided. Drawing her close, he snapped his fingers and lights flickered to life. Suspended on air and encased in a protective force field, the exquisite workmanship of the armour before her stole the remaining breath from Arian’s lungs.
“The Shield of Achilles,” she whispered.
The air around them pulsed with a power the force field could not contain. Jax edged her closer and the pulsing grew stronger, as if the shield was alive and its heartbeat reached for them.
It shimmered with vibrant and unexpected colour under the light as the force field around it dropped away. Gold, silver and the cyan Arian recognised as coming from the paste created with low-fired glass, the shield was alive with etchings, each with a story to tell.
The centre of the orb drew her attention as she stepped out of Jax’s hold. The Mask of Fear stared back at her with empty eyes, gorgon-like teeth bared in a snarl — a warning of danger to come. She shivered and let her gaze wander to the circle of constellations surrounding it instead, and the happier scenes of weddings and dancing.
“My God, Jax, this is awesome. The workmanship in this shield is … incredible. How?” Arian reached out, wanting to run her fingers over the crazy mix of smoothly crafted sheep and bulls, the sweep of the dancers’ skirts and the warriors wielding their swords in battle. She held back, knowing the damage body oils could do to ancient artefacts.
“Pure magic, my love.” Jax drew her against him and held her tightly. “One day I will tell you each of those stories represented on the shield. It represents everything we have fought to protect — our women, our children, our land and our honour.”
His voice vibrated with pride and Arian closed her eyes to listen, absorbing the timbre and depth of it, the warmth of his arms as they banded her waist and the strength in the lines of his body. No-one could possibly fake such pride in telling Achilles’ story, his gruesome death, unless they had truly been there to witness it. The pain in Jax’s voice told of the loss of more than a friend and fellow god — he’d lost a brother.
Arian turned in his arms, her hands splayed on his chest as she listened. His eyes were on the shield as he spoke, seeing something she couldn’t. She reached up to stroke his jaw, his beard soft and comforting against her palm, the movement of his lips mesmerising. In that moment she knew for certain … this man was her soul mate, the one Gran had promised would come for her.
She stilled his lips with her fingers, drawing in a breath when he pressed a kiss against the tips. “I believe.”
One hand in the small of her back, the other pressing her hand to his heart, he kissed her, sweetly, tenderly, with the smallest hint of the passion they would share later alone in their room.
“Save me, Arian. Save me from the purgatory I have endured these thousands of years, from the clutches of Hades who snaps at my heels,” he said, lifting his head, his green gaze pleading with hers.
“How do I do that?”
“By loving me and making me whole.”
“I can do that.” Arian kissed the pulse that beat at the base of his neck, revealed in the vee of his shirt. Her hands slipped up under the material to touch the warm skin of his body. Her fingers traced the scar on his chest. She knew the cause of it now.
“Enough.” Zeus appeared from nowhere, snapped his fingers and the force field drew up around the shield once more. “It is not as simple as only loving each other. There is work to do yet. Paradise awaits its queen. We need to prepare for battle.”
Arian bit her lip. Her biggest battle yet had been for shoes in her size at the Boxing Day sales. What did she know about battle strategies and swordfights?
“You really need to trust your own strength and abilities, Arian. Paradise can’t have a queen with trust issues. I have your grandmother’s weapons in the safe upstairs. I’ll need to show you how to use them.” Zeus eyed the circular staircase with disdain. “No bloody way I’m going up that thing. You two are on your own. Meet me upstairs.” Then he was gone.
***
Below them, the Earth was dark. From the sky above, the twinkle of streetlights formed dotted patterns on the landscape. Sitting behind Jax on Electra’s back, she touched the Celtic war sword — with its black wooden grip and silver half-moon guard and pommel — in the sheath at her side. It hummed with power at her touch.
The moment Zeus had placed it in her hands, it had glowed with a white-blue light and the hilt had moulded into her hand for a perfect fit.
“If you doubted before, Your Highness, there lies the proof. The sword only moulds to the grip of the true Faerie Queen.”
She would have liked to deny it, but even as the thought formed, a warm strength had flowed through her, bringing with it a sense of belonging she hadn’t felt since Gran died.
As they’d planned their arrival and attack in Paradise, her confidence had grown as she recognised landmarks Gran had mentioned in her book, and the fantasy had turned to reality. A far better, more comfortable reality than she’d ever known.
Jax reached back and squeezed her thigh. “You okay?”
“Yes, just processing.”
“You think too much.”
Beneath them, Electra dipped to the right and curved towards an island cloaked in semi-darkness below. “Welcome to Leuke. Once it was Paradise.” She cruised in to land on a bank of dark red soil where it bled into an empty creek bed. “The dirt is soaked with the blood of those who defended Paradise against Hades.”
She crouched so Jax and Arian could climb off. As Arian’s feet touched the soil, green grass began to sprout under them. Fascinated, she took a few steps forward. Beside her a bed of brown, bedraggled plants lifted their heads and bloomed.
“Jax, what’s happening?”
He smiled. “It’s true. You really are Arianrhod, Restorer of Life and Souls.” A roar in the distance followed by a ball of flames shooting skyward caught their attention. “Come, we must hurry to the palace. The water faeries are doing their best to stop Hades from burning the castle. They can’t hold off much longer.”
They ran through the bush that sprung up around them, swords ready. Ahead, the land was strewn with the whitened bones of those who’d battled with the devil and lost. With a sweep of her sword, Arian raised their souls from the dirt as she we
nt. A war cry lifted behind her as they followed, gathering life as they went.
Arian felt her power grow along with her confidence as they reached the village outside the castle wall. With only a few thatched cottages left standing on the blackened earth, the destruction tore at her heart. These were her people who’d suffered and she would have no more of it. She shook off the pain of devastation as pride and determination seeped into her soul, stiffening her spine and squaring her shoulders to give her the regal bearing and strength she needed. Her sword sang as she raised it to the sky.
“Hades, you miserable son of a bitch, get your lousy arse out here now and face me like the devil you are,” she roared.
“Arian, we must follow the plan —”
“Screw the plan, Ajax. He’s already breeched the outer wall. If any of my people are still alive, they won’t be for much longer.”
Hades appeared at the battered gates dangling from the hinges, his black cloak billowing around him against a wall of fire. “Oh, God damn it,” he yelled. “If it isn’t the bloody Welsh witch’s offspring. You’re too late, Arianrhod. You can’t save them now. All I need to do is breathe on them and they’ll drop like tenpins.” His laughter shook the walls. “You plan to fight me with a bunch of useless ghosts and a coward, Your Highness?”
Rage filled her. She didn’t even try to stem it, instead she let it drive her forward. “The only coward here is you, Hades. You trick people, play with their minds, drug them with ouzo — that’s not the work of a hero or leader. Fight like a man if you want to own Paradise.”
“Oh, you stupid, stupid girl. You are no match for me. I won’t waste my strength on anyone except Ajax the Great. Today his soul will be mine and he will become my slave in hell, doing my bidding day and night.” He stepped towards them. “Even now, you hide behind the skirts of a woman, you yellow-bellied weakling. Perhaps I should leave you to Athena to finish off? She’d love that, I’m sure.”
Jax stepped in front of Arian and pulled her in behind him. “I’ll never be your slave.” He raised his sword and shield. “But may Zeus be my witness, I will kill you today.”