Storms of Olympus

by Eliza Raine

  ‘Wait,’ he said, dragging his gaze away from her body and up to meet hers. ‘Does Theseus know you are here?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Yes. I told him yesterday that I am in love with you. I told him just now that I would be wherever you were, that you needed me and I needed you.’ The words had been easy to say and now she was rewarded with the look on Hercules’s face.

  ‘Hedone, my love. You are strong. You are magnificent.’

  ‘And I am yours.’

  17

  ‘I was this close!’ exclaimed Lyssa for the tenth time since they’d returned to their cabana, falling back on a daybed and slamming her fists into the sumptuous pillows.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’re still in the running. I’m not even sure why Hercules or Theseus would compete tomorrow. They can’t win now,’ Phyleus replied, handing her a glass of wine. Lyssa sat up to take the wine and drank deeply, still scowling.

  ‘Maybe they won’t,’ said Nestor.

  ‘Fine by me. Two less to worry about,’ said Phyleus.

  ‘Captain?’ The voice in Lyssa’s head took her by surprise.

  ‘Epizon?’ she answered aloud, sitting up straight.

  ‘Captain, well done so far. I… I wonder if you could do me a favour.’ He sounded nervous. She’d never heard her first mate nervous before.

  ‘Of course, Ep. What’s wrong?’

  ‘The woman fighting Antaeus. The tall, dark-skinned woman. Antiope.’

  ‘She’s your mother.’ As soon as Lyssa said the words, she wondered how she hadn’t realised it the moment she had seen her.

  ‘Yes. Could you talk with her? As we’re staying the evening now, I thought… I thought maybe she would like to meet with me.’

  ‘Of course I will. I’ll go and find her now.’

  ‘Thank you, Captain.’

  Lyssa looked at Phyleus and Nestor.

  ‘How do we call those escorts?’ she asked, setting her wine glass on the floor and standing up. She walked down the stone steps, towards the courtyards, looking for one of the younger girls who had brought them there. She could see nobody.

  ‘Maybe you should go and find Antiope yourself?’ Phyleus said.

  ‘She might be with Hippolyta, though. And the Queen might not take kindly to the idea of one of her warriors meeting with her son.’

  ‘True…’

  ‘Although I’d love to thank her for what she did to Hercules.’ Just thinking about the kick Hercules had taken to the throat made Lyssa feel stronger. Not only was he no closer to immortality, the world was being shown just how mortal he really was.

  ‘Well, they’ll probably be in the main palace. No harm in going for a little look.’

  ‘There’s plenty of harm in you going,’ said Nestor.

  ‘Me?’ Phyleus frowned.

  ‘Yes. You are a man. You will not be allowed anywhere inside the palace.’

  ‘What about the feast? Tonight?’

  ‘Hippolyta said it would be in the gardens.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Lyssa cocked her head at the disappointment on his face.

  ‘Don’t worry, Prince Phyleus,’ she teased him. ‘I’m sure there are plenty of places you can go that I can’t.’

  ‘And I’ll take you to all of them, rules be damned.’ He grinned at her.

  A pulse of excitement shot through her. She believed him. He would take her anywhere. And she wanted to go with him. A warm feeling that she’d not felt in a long time spread through her chest as her mind raced, picturing them flying through the skies together, new places theirs to explore. The feeling was hope. Excitement about her future. Those lively, warm, beautiful eyes held the promise of a life she’d written off.

  ‘I…’ she started to say, but trailed off. He raised his eyebrows at her, in question.

  ‘I want to go everywhere with you,’ she said, in her mind.

  A smile lit up his face, broad and true.

  ‘Then that’s where we’ll go.’

  Lyssa barely got through the first stone arch of the courtyards when a young girl, maybe twelve years of age, stopped her.

  ‘Excuse me? Can I help you, Captain Lyssa?’

  Lyssa smiled at her.

  ‘I’m looking for Antiope. Can you take me to her?’

  The girl stared at her for a moment, then said, ‘Why do you want to see her? Is it about her losing today?’

  Lyssa shook her head quickly.

  ‘No, no, nothing like that. I… I know somebody from her past. I just wanted to talk to her about it.’

  ‘Oh. Wait here, and I’ll get her,’ the girl said, pointing at a stone bench set opposite a series of mounted practice targets.

  ‘Thank you,’ Lyssa answered and sat down as the girl darted off. She was wearing the same coarse fabric tied with ropes that the warrior women did. What would it have been like to grow up here, Lyssa wondered. And did the women, the mothers, ever wonder about their discarded sons? She stood up again, reaching for the stack of bows by the bench. Why did these women refuse to live with men? She fished an arrow out of a shallow stone bowl on the ground and notched it, aiming at one of the targets. She loosed her arrow. It hit, but barely, right on the edge of the circle. Blowing out a sigh, she grabbed for another. She’d always been bad at archery. But practising hadn’t appealed to her, when she could fight so well. Archery left her Rage unsatisfied.

  She fired arrow after arrow, some hitting closer to the centre than others, but as many again completely missing the target.

  ‘It’s a good job you’re practising,’ said a disdainful voice behind her, as yet another arrow flew wide. She spun around, lowering the bow as she came face to face with Antiope.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, laying the weapon down on the bench.

  ‘I’m told you wanted to see me?’ the woman answered. She looked even fiercer this close than she had on the stage. Her skin was tanned, darker than many of the other Amazons, but nowhere near as dark as Epizon’s. Her eyes were hard, and her mouth a straight line as she appraised Lyssa. Her biceps bulged as she folded her arms across her chest.

  ‘Yes. I, er, I know someone from your past,’ Lyssa said awkwardly.

  ‘I doubt that,’ Antiope said.

  ‘He—’ Lyssa started, but Antiope turned away.

  ‘I have no interest in talking with you about any man from my past,’ she spat as she took a long stride towards the palace.

  ‘Even if he’s your son?’ Lyssa called after her.

  Antiope froze, then turned back to her slowly.

  ‘He lives?’

  Lyssa nodded.

  ‘He thrives. He is my first mate on the Alastor.’ Thrives was a bit of an exaggeration, Lyssa thought, but she couldn’t help bigging him up a bit.

  ‘He serves under a woman?’ Antiope said slowly.

  ‘That surprises you?’

  ‘A little. In my experience, the men who survive the Amazons grow to hate women.’

  ‘Why do you hate men so much?’ Lyssa couldn’t help the question.

  ‘They are unnecessary,’ Antiope shrugged. ‘Other than to procreate, of course.’

  ‘What about love?’ Phyleus’s grinning face flashed in her mind as she said the word.

  ‘My duty is enough for me. And I love my queen.’

  Lyssa nodded. The Amazons were a war tribe of Aries. She supposed they wouldn’t have survived if they could be distracted by emotions like love.

  ‘Epizon would like to meet with you. While we are here.’

  Antiope took a long breath, her face the most expressive Lyssa had seen it.

  ‘Epizon? Is that his name now?’

  Lyssa nodded.

  ‘Why did he not come to Themiscyra and take part in the tests? Is he weak?’

  ‘He is the strongest man on my ship, but he was gravely injured, by Hercules. I assume you’ve not been watching the Trials?’

  ‘No. We have no interest in such things. Hippolyta only allowed all this to happen because Ares himself wil
led it.’

  ‘Well, Epizon is recovering well now, but I had stronger crew-mates for the test.’

  Antiope nodded.

  ‘I understand. And I think I would like to meet him. But I will need to ask the permission of my queen.’

  Lyssa’s heart sank. Surely Hippolyta would not allow it.

  ‘What do you think she will say?’ she asked.

  ‘I think she will say yes. I am her sister.’

  ‘You’re her sister?’ Lyssa stared in surprise. ‘So are you… a daughter of Ares too?’

  ‘The families of the Amazons are complicated. Hippolyta has the true power of the god of war in her. I carry a fraction of that. But it is enough.’ Her eyes were fierce again.

  ‘I saw, today. I couldn’t have fought a giant like that,’ Lyssa said.

  Antiope held her gaze for a moment.

  ‘I have heard you are as strong as any Amazon, Captain Lyssa. I would like it very much if your father died.’

  Lyssa blinked.

  ‘So would I. And please don’t call him my father.’

  ‘Very well.’ Antiope nodded. ‘I will talk to Hippolyta and let you know her will presently.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Lyssa, praying for Epizon’s sake that the Queen would say yes.

  18

  Eryx twirled the long, thin pasta around his spoon, watching the tomato sauce slide off in the warm glow of candlelight. He was sitting at a large, sturdy feasting table that filled one of the courtyards, and the light from the sky had grown dim enough that candles had been lit in lanterns everywhere.

  ‘Why so glum, Brother?’ asked Antaeus, slapping him hard on the back. ‘Are you nervous about tomorrow?’

  ‘No, of course not, Captain,’ he answered, before shoving the food into his mouth.

  ‘Good. You’ll do great.’ Antaeus beamed at him. He had drunk far more wine than he usually did, and Eryx suspected he was feeling the effects a little. He swallowed his pasta and smiled back.

  ‘I know, Captain.’

  ‘This is going to put us in the lead, Eryx. We’re going to win!’

  ‘Slow down, big man,’ called Theseus from the other end of the table, with a laugh. ‘You’ve got to beat Lyssa tomorrow before you can take the lead.’

  ‘No, I haven’t!’ the giant exclaimed. ‘Eryx has to beat the small, puny man!’ He pointed at Phyleus, who was pulling apart a large lump of bread opposite them.

  ‘Hey!’ he said, looking up indignantly. Lyssa coughed back a laugh.

  ‘He’s very fast, Captain Antaeus. Eryx,’ she said, looking at him, ‘you’ll have a real race on your hands.’

  Eryx smiled weakly at her.

  ‘Good,’ he said.

  ‘What’s wrong with you? Looking for Evadne?’ Busiris said quietly from his left. Trust that snake to notice he was preoccupied. He was right, though. None of Hercules’s crew had arrived in the gardens for the feast. Nor had Hedone.

  ‘What kind of race is it?’ Psyche asked, turning to Hippolyta at the head of the table.

  ‘I can’t tell you that.’ The Queen smiled, lifting a chicken leg off her loaded plate. ‘Can I assume your Hedone will not be taking part, though?’ The table fell quiet, everyone wanting to hear the answer.

  ‘She’s not our Hedone any more,’ Psyche answered sharply.

  ‘No, I’m afraid we will be withdrawing,’ said Theseus more calmly.

  ‘A shame, Captain Theseus,’ Hippolyta said.

  ‘You cannot control matters of the heart, my queen.’ He shrugged, staring at her.

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ she answered, eyes sparkling, and bit into the leg of meat.

  Theseus’s words rang through Eryx’s mind, the rest of the banter around the table fading. You cannot control matters of the heart. Was that true? Was that why he couldn’t stop thinking about her? He felt something flitting at his back and swatted at it absentmindedly. Then he felt it again, harder, and he turned, frowning in irritation. There, half-hidden in the lush plants surrounding their candlelit feasting table, was Evadne. She beckoned to him, then vanished into the greenery.

  ‘I’m calling it a night, Captain,’ he said, pushing his chair back as he stood up.

  ‘Good idea. Get your rest, Eryx,’ Antaeus said.

  ‘Eryx, I’ll see you tomorrow. May the best man win,’ Phyleus said, and stood up too, extending his hand across the table. Eryx took it, surprised, dwarfing it in his own as he shook it.

  ‘Tomorrow, Phyleus,’ he said and turned towards where he had seen Evadne.

  He wandered through the gardens for five minutes or so before he found her, sitting on a stone bench. Her hair wasn’t in its normal high tail but tied in a messy knot at her neck, and she was wearing trousers and a plain shirt instead of her usual tight clothes. She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

  ‘Eryx,’ she said, standing up as she saw him. ‘I’m really glad you came.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have,’ he said gruffly. ‘I meant what I said.’

  ‘I know you did. And you were right.’

  His eyebrows rose.

  ‘I’m not playing games, Evadne.’

  ‘I don’t want to any more either. I swear. I didn’t realise how far into one I was. Honestly. I… I didn’t realise until I saw what he did to Abderos. I didn’t realise how real the game had become.’ She bit her lip as she spoke, wringing her hands. ‘Eryx, I couldn’t live with myself if I took a life,’ she whispered. ‘Hercules is a monster. And I’m not saying that he forced me to do anything, because he didn’t but… I was so consumed by the thought of being famous, having people love me, care about me, that I… I lost sight of what it would cost to be like him.’ She looked up at him. ‘Can you forgive me?’ she asked, her voice small.

  Eryx hadn’t expected to see her like this. The Evadne he was used to was tough, and sarcastic, and flirty and… not this. When he had followed her, he had thought she would argue with him, tell him to toughen up, to play the game. Had Abderos’s death really made such a difference to her?

  ‘Why? Why have you changed your mind? Do you not want immortality any more?’

  ‘Of course I do. But not at that price. I saw Lyssa. I saw her grief. I don’t want to make a person feel like that. Ever.’ Some strength seeped into her voice. ‘There’s a better way to win. Your captain, and Theseus, they both care about their crew, and they won’t kill to get ahead.’

  ‘So she wants a different crew now?’ Busiris’s voice startled them both and Eryx spun around to see him approaching slowly through the gardens, the candlelight making his skin shine. ‘And who can blame her, now that the lovely Hedone has replaced her?’ he continued, his voice sickly-sweet. ‘Poor Evadne. Hercules isn’t going to pay you any attention now, is he? You probably won’t last until the final Trial now that you’ve been replaced.’

  ‘No, no, it’s not like that!’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Eryx—’

  Busiris cut her off. ‘Eryx, she’s using you. Again.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘She has no place on her crew now that her captain has a new pet, it’s as simple as that.’ Busiris’s voice had turned hard and cold and he came to a stop next to Eryx.

  ‘That’s not true,’ Evadne said, glaring at him.

  ‘It’s not true that you’ve been replaced? You think you’ll be anything more than a servant to him now?’ His mocking tone made Eryx want to hit him, but he couldn’t help hearing the half-giant’s words. He was right, it was a very convenient time for her to find her conscience.

  ‘It’s not true that that’s the reason I wanted to talk. I just wanted… forgiveness.’

  ‘Why? What have you done?’ asked Busiris.

  ‘You know what I’ve done,’ she spat.

  ‘Why don’t you remind us both?’

  ‘Eryx, please, don’t listen to him! I’m just trying to say sorry.’

  ‘Why, Evadne?’ Eryx said quietly. ‘What are you hoping to achieve?’

  She clenched her fists by
her sides, and closed her eyes.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said tightly and looked at him intently. ‘I have no agenda. I just needed somebody to know that I’m not a damn monster.’

  She whirled around and walked quickly out of the courtyard clearing, without looking back.

  ‘Don’t go after her, Eryx. She’s trouble, for us all,’ Busiris muttered.

  Eryx said nothing, her words replaying in his head. I just need someone to know I’m not a damn monster. Someone? Or him?

  ‘She nearly killed us, sabotaging the longboat. I would say I’m surprised she’s chosen us as a refuge, but with you so willing to talk to her, I guess I can see why she’d try. She’ll try Theseus next, you mark my words,’ Busiris said.

  It was like ice water being thrown over Eryx, dousing at once the spark of hope that had been kindling inside him. Busiris was right. Of course he was right. Evadne was a snake, deceitful and self-serving.

  That really was the last time he would talk to her.

  19

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to eat?’ Hedone asked.

  Hercules shook his head.

  ‘No. Let the fools feast,’ he answered, glowering out at the dark desert beyond the cabana. Before she could reply, a flash of white light forced her to throw her hands in front of her face with a cry. A god? When she lowered them, hesitantly, she gasped and pushed herself from the bed onto her knees.

  ‘Zeus,’ she breathed, bowing her head.

  ‘Father,’ said Hercules. Hedone lifted her head and peeked at the lord of the gods. He was human sized, standing in the middle of the cabana and looking around in distaste. His hair and beard were shining silver, his body hard and lean in an ancient-style toga.