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Chapter Thirty-Six

Hebe

“W hen you imagine shrinking or growing into an animal, imagine doing so wearing clothes.” Prometheus’ voice is cool as when we first wed.

“I already do that.”

“Not just your default form— you also have to imagine the animal wearing the same outfit. It won’t be, but you will be. This will drain more energy than a regular transformation, so be aware.”

I nod casually. “Are all Primordial powers based on what you know or can imagine? Like, for rifts, do you have to have visited the location before it opens?”

Prometheus purses his lips. “I wouldn’t say it applies to all Primordial power— there are individual giftings based on domain responsibilities and Entity callings. But, yes, for rifts, you have to know where you are going before you can open a rift. That is why it is so much easier for us to travel between our temples.”

Still nodding, I lean closer, trying to look interested but not too interested.

“There are two exceptions. One is if you sense a rift opened by another Primordial in the recent past; in that case it is almost effortless to re-open it. The second exception is when someone summons us by our Ren . Then a rift opens for us. That’s the easiest way to travel, and it’s the only way Nymphs can travel through rifts not made by another.”

“ Ren ?”

“Our True Name. Your people uttered Dionysus’ when sacrificing you. It’s how he was able to reach you in time to halt your slaughter.” My husband scowls at the memory. “I only know Hades’ Ren because Atum uses it to banish Hades back into the Underworld when necessary.”

“What’s your Ren ?”

“That’s not what I bargained to tell you.”

I purse my lips. “But I’m your wife .”

Prometheus’ gaze takes me in as melancholy saturates his words. “So, you are.” A long moment passes in silence before he nods. “Now, which form should you take next?”

All of them. I never want to stop exploring my abilities. “Actually, flying took a lot more out of me than I thought it would.” I lean heavily against the wall, my eyes drooping like his were.

“You’re fatigued?”

My eyes drift closed. “Terribly.” Well, he did tell me to lie to him.

Arms wrap around my knees and shoulders. Then I’m suddenly suspended in the air, my head falling against Prometheus’ shoulder.

“You’ve had an eventful day,” he murmurs, carrying me out of the map room. “And you expended a considerable amount of power.”

I mumble in agreement, though my day is far from finished and my power isn’t even close to spent.

Prometheus carries me up a flight of stairs to a smaller square room. This one has garments hung from the walls and draped over tables. There are chitons , Egyptian kilts, and clothes I have no name for. The only thing not covered in garments is the massive brass mirror taking up half of a wall.

“I have no bed,” Prometheus mutters, slinging me over his shoulder like that is an appropriate replacement for a cot. Then he gathers an armful of linens and piles them onto the floor like a nest. He sets me in the center.

I hastily adjust my linen so it doesn’t abandon me.

Prometheus gestures toward a tanned hide dress similar to what I wore when we wed. “That’s yours if you want it. It’s all yours.”

“But isn’t this your collection?”

“It’s yours now. And so is this.” Prometheus unclasps the lion’s hide from his back and lays it over me like a blanket. “To protect my most precious treasure.”

I stare at him, speechless.

Then Prometheus draws his hand through my curls. “Sleep well, wife. And know that once I have recovered my strength, I shall retrieve your kinfolk as you have requested.”

My lips part in surprise. I had thought he would try to delay honoring his promise as long as possible.

Prometheus takes that as an invitation to crouch down and press his lips to mine. “You will be happy here with me, even if there are no heroics to perform. You’ll see.”

The thought of someone concerned with my happiness is entirely foreign to me. It is such a strange concept that I cannot help pulling Prometheus closer and deepening the kiss.

He doesn’t break that kiss as I try to give myself distance to think. Instead, he follows me onto the nest of garments he made.

I want nothing more than to keep him here beside me all night. We could discover so much more about kissing and bonding traditions together. His prophecy about me finding happiness here with him could become true.

Except, I did not wed Prometheus for the sake of my pleasure. I did it to save my people, and save them I shall.

For all the power surging through me, it seems to take more strength than I possess to push at his chest until we break apart.

Prometheus stares down at me in hazy-eyed confusion. “Hebe, when this is all over and Zeus has used all his Fire, so there is none left to burn you ever again . . .”

I gaze up at him.

Prometheus clears his throat and glances away. “Then we can pursue Atum’s original strategy. We will go to Olympus and reveal our bond to spare the surviving mortals.”

“You would do that for me?”

“Yes.” He kisses the corner of my left eye.

My heart warms because I know how much Prometheus is risking to offer that.

But it’s not enough.

I close my eyes. “As I said before, I am fatigued. And so are you.”

“I’m not that fatigued.”

Daring to look at him again, I scowl.

Sighing, Prometheus pulls away and retreats to the stairs. At the doorway, he glances back. “I love you, Hebe?”

His words aren’t a question because he’s unsure, but because he wants me to answer him.

But I cannot. Not until I have fulfilled the true reason that I wed him. Then we will be free to explore our marriage and bond together. Until then, though, a warrior must not be swayed by temptations to turn away from trials.

I lie still, listening to his footsteps as he descends. Then I wait several moments more to ensure Prometheus doesn’t change his mind and return to my side.

He does not.

Springing to my feet, I hurry to the dress made in the style of my people and don it quickly. It is loose on me, but fits better than a linen I have to keep adjusting. The lion’s skin is a heavy weight on my shoulders, but a comforting one, too, knowing its power.

Properly dressed, I hurry to face the mirror and close my eyes. My heart is pounding in fear that I prove incapable of mastering the lessons Prometheus didn’t teach directly. Everything depends on them.

I remember the Nymph I met in Zeus’ temple. Except, I imagine her wearing the dress I now wear as I think myself into her shape.

When I open my eyes, it is not my reflection I see. Instead, the Nymph stares back at me.

Twirling, I see that I am here all the way through, just like with any of my animal forms. Nor do I feel any strain maintaining the disguise.

Still, I revert to my default form and smile to see that the Nymph’s strange lily pad dress has transformed back into my gown. That took no mental strain whatsoever, and I feel no depletion in my energy.

I have yet to find a limit to my newfound strength. Whether that is just a benefit of being newly Awoken or because of my still unbroken connection to the mortals I seek to serve, I know not. But I hope it continues long enough to do what I must.

Turning from the mirror, I close my eyes. Then I hold out my right arm and twirl it just like I saw Prometheus do before taking us here. I focus on the memory of Atum’s temple.

My skin tingles with power. When I open my eyes, I see a rift. On the other side of it, I can clearly make out Atum’s collapsed temple.

A sudden wave of panic washes over me as I remember when the ruins before me were engulfed by smoke and flames. I was prepared to be frightened when I faced Zeus’ temple, but this is far worse than anything I was anticipating— especially since is supposed to be my haven. This is terror engrained so deeply into my psyche that no rational thought can drive it from my mind.

I step through the rift anyway.