by Eliza Raine
Eryx crossed his arms as gently as he could over his tight chest. It made him angry that he wanted to believe her. He didn’t, of course, but his traitorous mouth opened anyway.
‘Talk to me about what?’ he asked.
‘About the Hydra. About how brave you were.’ She smiled at him. ‘It really was impressive.’ Her long ponytail fell across her bare shoulder as she cocked her head at him. He swallowed as he unintentionally followed the movement down to the tight leather vest she was wearing. ‘Eyes up, big boy,’ Evadne said. His face flushed immediately and she laughed. ‘Well, at least you’re getting some colour back.’
‘I’m not talking to you. You shouldn’t be here.’
‘You’re always saying that to me,’ she pouted.
‘You’re always in places you shouldn’t be!’ he snapped. ‘Why are you really here?’ Evadne looked at him a moment more, then sighed and stood up.
‘Fine. I wanted to ask you about Poseidon.’
Eryx raised his eyebrows in surprise.
‘Then you’ve picked the wrong giant to talk to. I don’t know anything about him.’ He looked down at his folded arms as he spoke.
‘He’s your father. You must know something,’ she pushed.
‘That’s not how it works. Poseidon, Zeus, Hermes, all of them, they all have abandoned children all over Olympus. I’ve never met him. Never spoken to him.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah. Why did you want to know about him?’ he grumbled.
‘I read… I read something interesting about him. About his realm, Aquarius. Have you been there?’ Eryx nodded.
‘I grew up there. Moved to Ares when my mother died.’ He tailed off and looked down again, guilt washing over him that it had been so long since he thought of her. It would be ten years since her death this year.
Evadne was silent for a moment.
‘Ares, huh? Dangerous place, I’ve heard,’ she said eventually.
He looked up at her, pushing his chin out.
‘Not for a champion boxer.’
‘Ahhhh, you had a taste for life as a gladiator, did you?’
‘Gladiators fight because they have to; boxers fight because they’re good at it,’ Eryx said. He knew he should tell her to go. He knew he shouldn’t be telling her about himself. But she seemed genuinely interested. And he wanted to talk to her. He couldn’t help it.
‘What’s Aquarius like?’ she asked.
‘You’ll see it during the Trials. Why do you want to know?’
Evadne shrugged.
‘Just curious. I know it’s underwater and that everyone lives in sealed domes. Does Poseidon live in one of the domes?’
‘I don’t know. I told you, I don’t know anything about him.’
‘But you must—’
‘Stop asking me about him!’ She wasn’t interested in him. It was clear she only wanted to know about his father. ‘You need to go,’ he said, meaning it this time. He wasn’t playing her games. He was smarter than that. She sighed again, then stepped close to his side and leaned down towards him. She smelled of citrus and his breath caught as his muscles tensed.
‘You really were impressive,’ she whispered, and kissed him gently on the check. He felt a red flush roar across his face and she laughed again as she sashayed to the door, winking as she silently let herself out.
It took him nearly an hour to relax again. He’d heard nothing from Antaeus, or any of the rest of the crew about an intruder. He didn’t know why he wasn’t telling his captain about her visit. Women had talked to him in the past, sure, but rarely human women. And the giants and warrioresses he had spent time with on Ares were nothing like Evadne, who was lithe, quick and completely fascinating. He knew for certain that he would need to be on his guard around her when he got his strength back and re-joined the Trials.
12
Hercules kept his longboat low to the ground as he approached the Virtus, trusting that the ship’s long front sail would keep him from view. The thought of Hedone when he’d last seen her, the desire obvious in her intense dark eyes, made him will the boat on faster. As he came up alongside the ship he turned to the minotaur.
‘Come back for me in one hour.’
‘Yes, Captain.’ Asterion nodded. Hercules reached out of the longboat, grabbed the edge of a ballista window and pulled himself easily up and through, onto the Virtus. The weapons room was empty of people, just housing the long row of massive wooden crossbows lining the edge and the barrels filled with lead shot beside them. Hercules had been on Typhoon-class ships before, and knew they had lots of space dedicated to living quarters. With only four crew members needing rooms most of them would be empty, but he needed to make sure he found Hedone without letting anyone else know he was here. He had told her to expect him and it was unlikely Theseus needed much help with his longboat. He would find her rooms and if she wasn’t there, he would wait for her. He wasn’t leaving the Virtus without knowing the feel of those beautiful lips on his.
He crept out of the ballista room and turned down the wood-panelled corridor, towards the back of the ship. It smelled different to his ship – a citrus scent lingering in the air. Did it smell like her? He hurried past a series of open doors until he heard voices. He stopped and pressed himself against the wall, listening. There was the steady clinking of metal and the noise of water splashing. He’d found the galley.
‘Here, I can wash that up for you. It’s the least I can do.’ The soft, husky voice belonged to Hedone. Hercules’s muscles constricted slightly.
‘It’s fine. You’re getting better, you know. Not with the knife, perhaps, but at least you can lift a spear and aim a slingshot now,’ an older female voice replied.
‘The slingshot is easiest. I don’t have to be near my opponent.’
‘If you’re half-decent, then you don’t need to be near them to use a spear either. We’ll start again in three hours, when that meal’s gone down. Go and get some rest.’
‘OK.’ There was the sound of wood scraping on wood and Hercules held his breath as a door a few feet ahead of him swung open. Hedone swept out, before turning in the opposite direction to him and making her way down the hallway. She was wearing a tight leather fighting-vest, much like Evadne’s but filled out in all the right places, and dark leather trousers. Joining her vest to her trousers at the back were flowing ribbons of sheer turquoise silk, looking remarkably like wings. Even in fighting garb she looked like a goddess. She held her arm out as she walked, running her fingers along the dark wood, humming softly. He let out his breath slowly and crept after her.
They walked past another four doors and then she pushed one open and went inside. Hercules gave her as long as he dared and then went in after her. He found himself in a lounge that looked a little like his own, save for the white silk draped over the mahogany walls, softening everything. There was a large white day-bed by a low table in the centre of the room and a well-stocked bar and bookcases against one wall. He couldn’t see Hedone but he could hear her humming through the open door at the back of the living room. He stepped quietly across the room. She was leaning over a huge bed, almost as large as his own, pulling back sheets and arranging cushions. Lust pulsed through him. He took one long stride through the open door and as he came up behind her he covered her mouth and spun her around to face him. Her wide-eyed panic subsided as soon as she saw him and he moved his hand from her mouth to her cheek.
‘Hedone,’ he breathed.
‘Hercules,’ she whispered back. ‘How did you…?’
‘I have one hour.’ She let out a breath as he pushed his hand into her soft hair, his thumb stroking her jaw. ‘You are so incredibly beautiful,’ he told her.
Her face broke into a smile. ‘Wait, I have to tell you something,’ she said.
Hercules softly tilted her head to one side, exposing her long white neck. He leaned forward and kissed the bare skin. Goosebumps rose across her neck instantly and she gasped. ‘I heard Aphrodite and Theseus talking.
They said Zeus had to deal with something to do with Hades and that he wouldn’t be able to help you,’ she said in a rush.
He straightened up, meeting her eyes.
‘I don’t need any help.’
‘I can help you,’ she said, staring up at him. ‘Let me help you.’ He could spend forever lost in those deep, intoxicating eyes. ‘I can make you feel better than you ever dreamed possible.’ Her voice was breathy and deep and she had that dark, hungry look again. ‘One hour with the goddess of pleasure.’
Every part of his body responded to her as she pushed him gently onto the bed and brought her soft lips to his.
13
There was no way around it. She would have to accept the centaur onto the Alastor. For an hour Lyssa had been trying to work out a solution to Nestor’s proposition but she couldn’t shift the memory of the feast, the sound of the centaur’s legs breaking, the maniacal look on Hercules’s face. Epizon was right. There was nobody in Olympus who shared Nestor’s pain or need for revenge more than she did. Any anyway, if Artemis wanted her on the ship, that was what would happen.
Lyssa was standing with her back to the rails, leaning on her elbows, waiting for the centaur to return and glaring at the back mast. It had shallow square patches of wood missing in a neat line that spiralled up the wood like steps. If she were being honest it was actually quite pretty. She pushed herself off the rail and hesitantly stepped towards the mast. She almost didn’t want to touch it, just in case. In case her bond was damaged, or broken. In case her ship was angry with her. Her crew had convinced her it was a risk worth taking but they didn’t know the Alastor like she did. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and laid her hand on the mast, concentrating. The thriving hum of the ship filled her at once, the sense of the massive sails and the unending sky fierce and strong. Relief washed through her as she broke the connection, her hand dropping back to her side. They’d been right. She let out a long breath. If they were right about the transplanted bits of mast carrying the bond over to the longboat...
A small flash of white light caught her attention. She turned to where Nestor was standing on the deck, exactly where she had been before. The centaur bowed her head.
‘Captain Lyssa,’ she said.
‘Nestor.’ Lyssa inclined her head in return. ‘Please wait, while I summon my crew.’ She’d barely finished the sentence before Epizon had bounded across the deck from where he’d been working on the longboat. He bowed low to the centaur.
‘I’m Epizon. Welcome…’
Lyssa grabbed his shoulder, stopping him mid-sentence, and stepped past him towards Nestor. She stood in silence while Abderos wheeled his chair over, Len trotting on one side, Phyleus sauntering on the other.
‘Nestor. I have decided to accept your help, with gratitude,’ she said when they were all gathered. The centaur bowed her head again.
‘You will not regret it. I will make sure your father does not see the end of the Trials.’
Lyssa’s fists clenched at her sides.
‘I appreciate your conviction, but if you ever refer to him as my father again you will lose your place on this crew.’
Nestor flicked her tail. ‘I am sorry. It may take me a short while to understand some of the customs on this ship. We are a private race, and unfamiliar with the ways of modern humans.’
‘Epizon and Len will fill you in, I’m sure. Phyleus,’ she turned to him. ‘You’re going to have to share quarters with Abderos so Nestor has a room.’
His mouth fell open.
‘Captain, I paid to furnish that room! You can’t just give it away!’
‘Yes, I can.’
‘Len’s the smallest, surely he should share!’
Len snorted, scraping his hooves on the deck.
‘Trust me, nobody is ever sharing with Len,’ said Abderos. ‘Do you know what satyrs get up to in private?’ He raised his eyebrows at Phyleus and shook his head. ‘Don’t ask. I wish I hadn’t. Plus his room looks and smells like a forest.’
Phyleus looked back at Lyssa and she shrugged.
‘It’s true. Two human men sharing is the most sensible option. Deal with it.’
‘I am sorry for causing upset,’ said Nestor. They all looked at her.
‘It’s fine,’ said Epizon quickly. ‘Do you have belongings to move onto the ship? We have a large cargo deck to store them if so.’
‘No. All of my belongings are tied too closely with Cyllarus. They are safe here on Sagittarius until I avenge him and can take pleasure in them once more.’
Lyssa shifted uncomfortably. She knew it was a selfish thing to think as soon as the thought entered her mind, but she couldn’t help it: Nestor’s solemn grief was definitely going to change the mood on board the Alastor.
‘Captain, we’re ready for you to try the longboat,’ said Len.
‘Good.’ Lyssa was relieved to hand over the intense horse-woman to Epizon for a tour of the ship, and anxious to see if their plan had worked. She hopped up on the crate and into the longboat. The sail was up, the bench secured and the mast clad in the slightly dark patches of wood from the Alastor. She laid her hand on the mast and willed the boat up. It responded instantly, rising a foot above the deck of the Alastor. She let go of the mast and the ship hovered in place. So far, so good. She moved along the boat, checking the repairs Phyleus had made to the hull. She reluctantly acknowledged he’d done a good job. With his shirt off. She shook her head, clearing the image.
‘Do you need any help testing your Rage?’ Phyleus clambered into the boat beside her, struggling now it was a foot higher.
She scowled. ‘You’re certainly the best person to make me angry.’
He winked at her as he stood up straight. ‘I know. That’s why I volunteered.’
‘It’s not just anger.’ She looked at him and sighed. ‘Anger is the easiest way, but anything that produces adrenaline…’ she paused. ‘Excitement. Fear. They all trigger the Rage.’
Phyleus tilted his head at her.
‘Huh. Must make for some… interesting experiences in your love life.’
She reached out, punching him in the arm. He yelped.
‘Line crossed. Captain, remember?’ she said, pointing at herself.
‘I’m just helping you test the Rage,’ he grimaced, rubbing his arm. She glared at him and reached out for the mast. She closed her eyes and concentrated. The truth was, she’d never tried to power the ship with anything like the kind of fuel Phyleus had just suggested. She’d only recently discovered that her power responded to physical excitement.
As soon as she remembered that night on Pisces she heard the sail snap taught. She allowed herself to remember the details, the deep kisses and soft caresses. Energy thrummed through her body, flowing fast and powerful. She willed the ship up and heard Phyleus shout as they shot into the sky. She felt a broad smile split her face as the wind whipped through her hair, her imagination soaring with the longboat.
‘Lyssa!’
She opened her eyes. Phyleus was in front of her, sitting in the bottom of the boat, clinging to the bench. She slowed their pace, looking up at the blood-red sail. ‘Gods, you should warn me if you’re going to do that!’
He was panting. Her eyes fixed on the rise and fall of his chest, the beads of sweat glistening on his skin. Power flowed through her like electricity, her own skin humming. She wanted him. ‘We’re too high. Artemis told us not to leave the plains, we need to go back down.’
His words filtered through her haze. Artemis. The Trials. She took her hand from the mast and leaned over the edge of the boat. They were high. The Alastor was far below them, looking tiny so close to the other, larger ships.
‘Huh,’ she said.
‘Yeah. So the Rage works on the longboat. Get us back down.’
‘Get us back down, Captain,’ she said, looking at him. He rolled his eyes. For a moment, she wanted to toy with him. To drop the boat now, watch him scream as they plummeted back towards the earth. She wanted him o
n his backside before her, calling her captain. Epizon wasn’t here to cut in, to stop her, to remind her what was important. She could show this arrogant man that he should respect her. Even fear her.
‘Please.’ Phyleus said. She blinked. ‘We don’t want to risk upsetting Artemis and being expelled from the Trials. Especially as I reckon we can win this one.’ He smiled a twinkling, excited smile that reached his eyes. She willed the boat down, gently, flexing her fists and forcing out the images of Phyleus kneeling before her.
The Cerynean stag was sacred to Artemis and had golden horns. Hercules did not want to kill or wound it so he chased it, for a full year. Eventually the stag took refuge on a mountain and Hercules shot and wounded it as it crossed a stream. He was now able to catch it and he threw it over his shoulders and started to head back but Artemis and her brother Apollo stopped him, angry that he had tried to kill the sacred animal.
EXCERPT FROM
The Library By Apollodorus
Written 300–100 B.C.
Paraphrased by Eliza Raine
14
‘Are you ready for this?’ Epizon asked quietly. They were standing together on the deck, watching the purple twilit sky slowly getting lighter.
Lyssa hadn’t slept well. She put her unsettled feeling down to anxiety about the race, crushing the memory of how she had felt about Phyleus the previous day. She didn’t want to work out if it was lust or something else she was feeling. Something dangerous.
‘Of course I am,’ Lyssa said.
‘Who are you going to take with you?’
‘Nobody. The lighter the boat, the better.’
Epizon shook his head.
‘If you’re channelling Rage and steering you need somebody with you. Somebody who is light, and a good shot. You can guarantee the others will have a navigator and a gunner.’ She looked at him and sighed. She knew where this was going. Epizon shrugged. ‘I’m too heavy, Abderos is a terrible shot and Len’s too small. It’s got to be Phyleus.’