The Gatekeeper's Sons

by Eva Pohler

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Mount Olympus

  Poseidon stopped the chariot before a giant wall of clouds at the top of Mount Olympus. Nothing but white stretched up and into the sky. Poseidon said, “Spring, Summer, Winter, and Fall, open the gates of Olympus so I, Poseidon, may enter with my prisoner.”

  A loud roar carried through the air, and a tunnel of cold wind lifted in front of them, startling Therese. At its center was a single rain cloud. As the wind settled and the rain cloud emptied its contents right before their eyes and then dissipated, the giant wall of clouds opened, and Poseidon drew the chariot forward. The wall of clouds closed behind them, and, in front of them, at the center of a golden-paved plaza, was a round fountain spraying water into the blue sky from the spout of a golden whale. At the top of this fountain, where the water arched and fell into a pool bordered with golden bricks, was a rainbow. Therese looked on with amazement.

  Behind this fountain was a giant palace of white stone and ornate columns. To the right and left of the palace were separate buildings, as tall, but not as wide or deep. Poseidon guided the chariot to the right of the fountain to one of these separate buildings. The golden doors were latched open, revealing two golden chariots parked on either side with a space in between, into where Poseidon now backed his chariot.

  “It looks like Hades beat us here,” the god of the sea mumbled. “And Zeus’s chariot has a new ding. Wonder where that came from, and if he knows of it.”

  A beautiful young man with long thick eyelashes and golden curls stepped forward to unbridle the horses.

  After he had the chariot free of the animals, Poseidon said, “I’ll take them to the stables myself, Cupid. I think my prisoner would enjoy the tour.”

  Cupid gave a subtle bow and disappeared.

  So that was Cupid. She wondered if Cupid knew that she knew he had pierced Pete’s heart.

  Poseidon kept the golden net around Therese as he helped her from his chariot. She noticed the sandals on his feet had retracted so they no longer formed flippers for swimming. With the three stallions tied to leads, Poseidon led her and Riptide, Seaquake, and Crest across the golden-paved plaza, passing the center fountain, to the other building separate from the palace. It was the same size as the chariot shed and had the same type of golden doors latched open at the entry. As the god of the sea led his horses into the building, which Therese now recognized as stables, Therese caught sight of Than standing among a group of people at the back stall near two black horses.

  “Therese!” Than said, rushing to her side.

  She had barely time to blink from the moment she saw him, and now he was putting his arms around her with the golden fishermen’s net between them. Her hair had dried during the journey, and it curled wildly from having dried in the beating wind. Than put his fingers through an opening in the weave to touch her hair and hold it between two fingers.

  “I’m glad to see you safe,” he said softly.

  Her heart warmed at the sight of him, and she longed to wrap her arms around him, but the net prevented her. She gazed into his eyes and whispered, “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, but I promise to protect you.”

  From the direction of the black horses came another man, tall like Than, but older-looking, with the same dark hair, but eyes as black as coal, and a short beard. Like Than and the other gods, he was beautiful. He walked over to Therese with an air of authority. “So, son, I finally meet your sweetheart,” he said.

  This was Hades, Than’s father. “How do you do?” she said.

  “Better than you, apparently,” he replied.

  “This wasn’t what we had in mind,” Than murmured. “She wanted to play her flute for you, feed you chocolate. This has gone all wrong.”

  “Better to meet like this than not at all,” Therese said bravely.

  “Oh boy, an optimist,” Hades said with sarcasm.

  Therese’s face flushed. She could see the red color rise all the way to the tip of her nose.

  “And sensitive to boot,” he spoke again.

  “Dad, can you lighten up?” Than kept his arm on Therese.

  The god of the Underworld turned his attention to the god of the sea who lingered near the stall where the latter boarded his white horses. “Poseidon.”

  “Hades.”

  They each gave the other a civil nod.

  During this exchange, Therese noticed Meg and Tizzie standing with their prisoner in the back of the stable. The third sister was there as well. She had fire-red hair that stood up in a Mohawk, deep black eyes, and a choker of black stones around her neck. All three Furies wore tall black heeled boots and short skirts. Tizzie wore her emeralds and Meg her rubies, and their hair was down and wild. A large bird sat perched on Meg’s shoulder, and a wolf stood beside Tizzie.

  The man in the middle of them she recognized as McAdams. Therese’s eyes grew wide, and hot tears flooded them as she faced the mastermind behind her parents’ death. She would kill him. She would make him pay. Though now, as she looked at him—short, thin, bald, with spectacles and wearing a suit that looked too big—he seemed terrified, pathetic, and about to pee in his pants.

  “We will take the prisoner to court,” the redheaded Alecto, said, and then the Furies and their prisoner disappeared.

  “Poseidon,” Than sneered his greeting.

  “Thanatos.” Poseidon gave him a tired nod. “I will entrust my lovely prisoner to you for now. You cannot break the spell of the golden net, so I have no fear of losing her, especially here among so many.” And with that, Poseidon vanished.

  “Don’t be mad at him,” Therese whispered. “He was kind to me.”

  Than scowled. “Some kindness. Don’t you realize what he’s done?”

  She shook her head. “No. Oh my God, what?”

  Hades turned toward the back of the stables. “Cupid, make sure my black stallions get the same amount of oats as Poseidon and Zeus’s beasts. I won’t tolerate special treatment, understand?”

  Cupid appeared in front of him and gave a slight bow. “As always.”

  “I’ll see you at court,” Hades said to Than and Therese, and then he disappeared.

  “So what’s Poseidon done?” Therese asked.

  “Come on,” Than said. “They’re all waiting for us.”

  Therese trembled with fear as they entered the golden-paved plaza and walked past the fountain to seven steps, each a different color of the rainbow, starting with red and ending with violet. Her new fears made it difficult for her to appreciate the two giant columns flanking the entryway, and, just inside, the magnificent foyer. But her eyes opened wide and she did not fail to notice as she stepped into a large rectangular assembly hall open to the clear blue sky, from which nearly solid beams of sunshine shot down to form a bright canopy above them.

  Therese looked down from the sky to the white marble floor as she followed Than past Hades into the hall. Hades stood just inside with the Furies and their prisoner nearby. As Than and Therese passed them, a golden chair ascended from the floor, and Hades sat on it. It was apparently his throne. He sat opposite the long hall from two gods whom Therese presumed were Zeus and his queen, Hera.

  “Should I kneel or something?” Therese asked Than, staying close beside him.

  “No. I’ll introduce you to each god, one by one,” Than whispered. “Just give a subtle bow. Don’t go deep. They despise groveling.” Then Than spoke in a surprisingly loud and confident voice. “Gods and goddesses of the court, with your permission, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Therese Mills.”

  Zeus gave a nod. “Please bring her before each of us, beginning with Aphrodite to your left.”

  “Therese, I present you to Aphrodite, the goddess of love,” Than said.

  Still wrapped in the golden fishermen’s net, Therese stood before Aphrodite and gave her a bow. The goddess of love was the most beautiful of all gathered there. Her hour-glass figure was a
ccentuated by the white, form-fitting gown that ended just above her delicate sandaled feet. Without speaking, Therese met her crystal blue eyes and mouthed, “Thank you.” Before now, Therese hadn’t been able to properly thank the goddess for curing Clifford and leaving her the traveling robe. Aphrodite flipped her blond hair from her creamy bare shoulder and gave Therese a smile of pleasure, then dipped her head in polite greeting.

  Than continued. “To Aphrodite’s left is the goddess of the woods, Artemis.”

  Therese took four steps and faced the goddess on her throne. Also beautiful, her eyes and her gown were deep green, like the color of pine needles, and her brown hair was fastened into a knot on her head, a few stray hairs caressing her neck. Therese gave her subtle bow and again mouthed, “Thank you.” Artemis bowed in return.

  To Artemis’s left was a double throne, and on it sat a mother and daughter, very similar in appearance, with golden brown eyes and hair the color of corn. Their hair was long and straight, as were their gowns of pale pastels. Than introduced them as his grandmother, Demeter, goddess of the harvest, and his mother, Persephone, queen of the Underworld.

  “She’s lovely,” Persephone said.

  To their left sat a red-haired, brown-eyed goddess whose gown reminded Therese of Alice in Wonderland in that it was blue with a white apron. Than introduced her as Hestia, goddess of the hearth, Zeus’s unmarried sister.

  To the left of Hestia and to the right of Zeus sat gray-eyed, black-haired Athena, whom Therese immediately recognized. Therese clutched the locket at her throat, and as she had done with Aphrodite and Artemis, mouthed, “Thank you,” before she bowed to the goddess.

  Zeus and Hera sat together on a double throne at the center back of the great hall, and though all the thrones were ornamental in design, theirs stood out because of the golden birds perched behind them. Behind Zeus perched a golden ruby-eyed eagle, and behind Hera three golden finches. Both gods gave their subtle bow after Therese gave hers.

  Therese detected a hint of snarl in Than’s voice as he introduced red-haired Ares, the god of war, who, along with McAdams, was responsible for her parents’ death. Ares showed no anger or emotion as he gave his bow at his introduction. He was as beautiful as the other gods and as civil and polite.

  Therese recognized Hermes, who winked at her when he was introduced, producing a broad smile across her face. Her smile lingered when she faced Poseidon next, for despite the fact that he was the god who had captured her, she would be forever grateful for the dolphin ride across the sea.

  Beside Poseidon, across the hall from his twin sister Artemis, sat the most beautiful god of all the males. Than introduced him as Apollo, god of truth, of music, and of healing. He held his lyre upon his lap. His eyes were the same evergreen as his sister’s, and his hair was the same golden brown. Next to Apollo, and directly across from Aphrodite, was Aphrodite’s husband, Hephaestus, the god of the forge, who appeared opposite to Apollo in every way. Whereas Apollo looked young, Hephaestus seemed old; where Apollo looked strong and erect, Hephaestus appeared bowed and misshapen. His hands were gnarled and calloused, his black hair streaked with gray, and his black eyes lined with dark circles and bags beneath them. He was the only god among them not beautiful. Therese gave her bow, and he his.

  The Furies moved away from their father, pulling their prisoner to the center of the hall, so that Than and Therese could stand before Hades. Although he had already introduced them in the stables, Than formally presented her here before the other gods.

  Hades gave a deeper bow than the others and surprised Therese by saying, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Therese. I speak on behalf of all the gods when I welcome you to our court. I am only sorry that it could not be under better circumstances.” He gave Therese a pleasant smile, and his coal black eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

  Zeus cleared his throat. “Thank you, Hades. Thanatos, bring the prisoner to the center of the hall beside the Furies and the other prisoner.” He then addressed the others “I believe all present are aware of the situation at hand. The Furies want to avenge the death of two souls by punishing their killer, Steven McAdams. Ares and Poseidon have captured Therese Mills in attempt to negotiate for McAdams’s release. The girl for the man. We shall first hear from Ares, then Hades, and finally, Poseidon. If other Olympians have opinions, we will hear them, but remember that only the Olympian gods may speak in a court hearing unless I say otherwise. We will then come to our decision and pronounce our judgment. Ponder this: should Hades take both, one, or neither mortal soul before us?”

  Therese gasped. None of the outcomes would allow her to avenge her parents’ death and become a god. If Hades took McAdams’s soul, Than’s deal with his father would become impossible to carry out. You can’t kill a soul. And if McAdams were granted his freedom by this court, how would she find and kill him on her own? Wouldn’t the gods have to honor the judgment of the court? Wouldn’t that mean Than and his sisters would be prohibited from helping her? She looked at Than, and he met her eyes with sympathetic understanding.

  “No,” she said in her mind to all of the gods around her. “I can’t let this happen.” She clutched her golden locket and waited.

  Ares stood before his throne. “I do not deny the clear discrepancy between these two prisoners. One is vile, contemptible, though he has served me well; the other, kind and good. But sometimes good people must be sacrificed for the greater good. You all know as well as I that human power must be spread through many countries, and one among them has become too strong. It is no secret that I believe the fall of the United States will set this imbalance straight. McAdams, the prisoner who was not introduced and who cowers there in the middle like a pathetic toad, must be spared the torments of hell because in his crimes he served me. To make my demands more appealing, Poseidon and I have taken as our prisoner the object of Thanatos’s desire. We will free her upon the release of McAdams and with an oath upon the river Styx to never enact that punishment upon him.” Ares returned to his throne.

  Therese felt herself go limp. Than’s hand was fast around her waist. Ares was a persuasive speaker. She felt all hope was lost. She could never become a god and spend eternity with Than if the gods agreed with Ares. She had to be permitted to avenge her parents’ death.

  Hades now stood and took a few steps toward the middle of the hall. “Since when has Ares cared about the fate of his human instruments? He’s not here to protect McAdams. His real purpose is less noble. He knows that my son, Thanatos, struck a bargain with me. I swore on the river Styx to make his sweetheart a god if she personally avenged the death of her parents. Ares fears the conflict that might ensue, the leverage he may lose among us, if the daughter of his victims were to become like him. In fact, he would rather see me take both souls now and damn McAdams to a fate worse than that of Tantalus than see Therese Mills become a god. My daughters, the Furies, have learned that this cowering toad, as Ares has so perfectly described him, has been manufacturing and selling fake medicines to humans. Think of all those other souls in my care who have died because they did not have their proper drugs. If justice is our concern today, then choose justice. I urge you all to free the girl and watch her avenge the death of her parents and the death of those not represented here today.”

  Therese perked up with renewed hope. She felt a new respect for Than’s father, and, in her mind, she prayed to him, “Thank you, Hades. That was an awesome speech.”

  As he took his seat upon his throne, Hades met her eyes and gave her a subtle nod.

  Zeus cleared his throat. “Poseidon?”

  All eyes turned to the god of the sea who now stood before his throne. “I have nothing to add. I defer my turn to my cohort, Ares.” Poseidon sat back down.

  Ares stood and said, “I see the merit in Hades’s speech.”

  Therese’s mouth dropped open in surprise. She looked up into Than’s eyes, but he seemed wary.

  Ares continued. “Hades agreed to make the girl a god, and his condi
tion was that she should avenge the death of her parents. But I ask you, would that be accomplished by allowing her to simply walk up to him, imprisoned, and slit his throat? Haven’t the Furies already done the hardest part of the avenging? They have worked day and night tracking his whereabouts, and they have taken him captive. What role has the girl played in any of that? And so she walks up and cuts his throat and that merits her to be here among us gods? Any pathetic wight could do the same.”

  “What do you propose?” Zeus asked.

  Therese’s face fell. She looked again at Than and met his worried eyes. This was not going well at all.

  “I propose,” Ares started, “that we place the two of them in a contained arena with invisible walls far from civilizations; that we allow them each the same weapons—a sword and shield—equitable in all ways; that the gods may watch and make suggestions, but not intervene; and that these two humans fight to the death. The victor lives and is set free; the loser goes straight to the Underworld, a soul among the dead.”

  “That’s barbaric!” Aphrodite cried.

  “Unfathomable!” Apollo shouted.

  “Fair!” Hades said. “But I say let the girl choose between these three: first, set them both free to live and find their fates without interference from the gods; or, second, have me take both souls to the Underworld, neither made a god nor given his just punishment; or, last, fight the battle to the death, as Ares has suggested. If the girl chooses the latter and wins, she becomes a god.”

  “Agreed!” Ares snapped, eagerly it seemed to Therese.

  Than gave Therese a hint of a smile, but she could not return it. Maybe he assumed she would choose the first and live a safe, and perhaps long, life. But it would be a life without him, for her chances of finding McAdams and killing him on her own were so remote as to be insignificant. Maybe he assumed she would choose the second and go peacefully with him to the Underworld a dead, unfree, soul. She doubted he thought she would choose the third.

  “What?” he whispered.

  She shook her head.

  Zeus then said, “So, Therese, which do you choose?”

  She walked to the center of the hall and looked around at each of the gods, settling her gaze on Ares. “If I choose the third—”

  “What?” Than shouted. He ran to her side. “Don’t even consider it! Therese! Listen to me. McAdams will kill you. He’s small, but stronger than you. You might suffer abominable---”

  “Let the girl speak,” Ares said.

  Therese bit her lip. “If I choose the third, to fight McAdams to the death, which I have a feeling is the choice you most prefer, will you swear on the river Styx to protect my aunt and all my loved ones until they die their natural deaths?”

  “You have my word,” Ares said with obvious satisfaction.

  She met Than’s pleading eyes. “No, Therese,” he begged. “Don’t do this. Choose the first. I’ll find a way to come back for you.”

  If she chose the first, McAdams would be forever hunting her and her aunt. She didn’t want to live a life in fear. Plus, there would be little hope of killing McAdams without the Furies’ help, which meant life without Than.

  If she chose the second, she would die a painless death and join her parents in the Underworld, but there would be no chance of a happily-ever-after with Than since her personality and freedom would be gone.

  If she were to choose the third and die at McAdams’s hand, she would join her parents in the Underworld. And if she were to succeed in killing him, she would become a god and be with Than forever. Plus Ares would guarantee the safety of her loved ones regardless of the outcome. With the third choice, she couldn’t lose.

  Her heart hammered in her chest. “I choose the third,” she said. “I choose to fight.”

  Artemis and Athena lifted their fists simultaneously and shouted, with smiling faces, “Yes!”

  Aphrodite covered her face with her hands and wept.

  Ares smiled triumphantly.

  The others looked wary, even afraid for her.