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Chapter Forty-Three

The Newlyweds

Hebe:

“A re you sure you want to do this? You know the consequences if you fail.”

Atum’s concerned words rattle in my head as Sia and I crouch outside of Zeus’ temple because I am sure. All my life, I’ve accepted every fate laid before me because I was the least of my tribe and desperate to do the most good. I was married because of this mindset.

I won’t be widowed because of it.

Sia once again takes his scarab form and flies upward, soaring out of sight. I’m left with only the sound of my pounding heart as I consider every decision that led me to this point.

The last time I came to Zeus’ temple, it was to steal his Fire. Now I’ve returned to take back what was stolen from me.

Despite my new power and the spears from Dionysus, I still feel so small— like I’m an imposter trying to play a game meant only for Olympians. And I am an imposter. But I’m also Hebe, and my husband needs me.

Once, I fought to save him because I had nothing to lose. Now, I fight because everything is at risk.

Sia materializes beside me, and I nearly jump.

“Zeus is in residence,” he whispers. “He’s in the silver tower. Ares and Aphrodite are in the back gardens. The only soul I could find near the wall was a Nymph.”

“A Nymph?”

“Yes. Hopefully she won’t linger—”

But I’m already lunging over the wall.

I finally have a reason to fight for myself. Mayhap it’s not much of a reason, considering every kiss from Prometheus was a precursor to betrayal. But did my village really deserve all my goodwill either?

I land right in front of the Nymph who helped me before.

“Hello again,” I whisper.

Her eyes bulge without a hint of recognition. Then she yells, “Ares!”

Panicking, I open a rift to Prometheus’ temple. It’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Then I push her through and close the rift before transforming into her.

I take a moment to acclimate to this new form. It’s a slightly shorter height than I’m used to, but it’s definitely not as strange as so many other forms I’ve taken.

Suddenly, a shadow falls over the garden. Ares?

It isn’t Ares.

Fear almost sends me leaping back over the wall. However, I hold my ground and force a smile at the Primordial approaching me.

Zeus beams back at me. “Juventas, I’ve been looking for you.”

Prometheus:

A shadow falls over me, and I lift my head as the eagle lands. However, something far more beautiful steals my focus.

Hoping I don’t look too macabre, I force a smile. “Hebe. I’ve been hoping to see you again.”

Hebe offers me one of her tiny smiles in return as the Eagle squawks.

They reach me at the same time.

“I’ve missed you,” I tell Hebe. Unlike the eagle, who I haven’t missed the eagle at all .

The eagle takes offense, and its beak tears back into the tender flesh of my stomach.

Crying out, I almost forget about my amber. I bite it before the Eagle can reach it.

The amber brings reality to my trance, grounding me like I don’t want to be. Hebe isn’t here. All I have of her is this necklace. I can’t protect myself; all I can salvage is this pendant. I am still caught in the wretched purgatory of waiting to see whether the Creator or Zeus will show me any mercy.

Hands grasp my face and turn me to face Hebe.

I blink, glad to see her again and desperate to fall into this dream of her. Anything to escape the sensation of all that should be within me being pulled out.

“Such a frail creature you are,” she murmurs. “And so deceitful, too.” Hebe rubs my face gently. “But mercy is coming yet. Your suffering shall have an end.”

Tears flow down my face at the beauty of her lies— and because of the agony the eagle continues to cause.

Caressing my face again, the vision of Hebe presses her temple to mine. “Just as you laid down your life for your beloved, so will the Creator. But first, long before that time, another deliverer will come to you. The greatest mercies will be found in the greatest sufferings. You just need to wait a little longer . . .”

Hebe:

Not sure what else to do, I follow Zeus into his temple. Hopefully, Juventas is not a big talker since I cannot think of a single word to say.

My tongue has always failed me. That is why I depend on spears.

Thankfully, Zeus doesn’t seem to be looking for conversation as he collapses onto his throne.

I stand awkwardly by the table, unsure what Juventas would do in this situation.

Zeus gestures toward the table. “I thirst.”

Rushing forward, I grasp the first kylix and then kneel before him, hoping it’s something he finds worthy. Is this the pose Juventas would normally take?

Zeus’s brows rise, and something dances in his eyes that I dislike. “I have to say, my favorite little cup bearer, that I like this new level of service.”

Forcing a smile, I press the kylix to his lips and hope it silences him.

It does until Zeus drains it dry. Then his hand wraps around my wrist and draws that to his lips next.

I resist the urge to recoil. Instead, I tentatively reach behind me with my untainted hand and grasp another kylix . Then I swing it forward, replacing my wrist with the cup.

Zeus makes a surprised sound that turns into something I hate far more as he gulps down this kylix.

Pulling it away the moment it’s empty, I demurely lower my gaze. “Is there anything else you desire?”

“Yes, actually.” Zeus runs his hand through the mossy green tresses my curls transformed into. “I wish you were truly my daughter.”

I nearly choke. “Your . . . daughter?”

Zeus nods lazily before leaning further against the couch. “I actually have a gift for you in the sun’s locker. Why don’t you go see if you can find it? While it’s still just you and me. Unfortunately, I had to summon the foolish mortals and the wiser Entities for a speech later today.”

Swallowing hard, I nod and rise. Then I stride toward the golden tower as calmly as possible. Zeus doesn’t follow, apparently wanting to give me a moment with the gift I am to find.

This is my chance to look for rifts.

I step into the large tower room, my gaze falling on where the Fire was stored. All the dust of the disintegrated column has been cleared away.

There is a large reclining couch to the side of the room laden with several flowers. Is that the gift? Even though Juventas is a naiad, not a dryad?

Stepping toward it, I hurry out of any angle where Zeus could see me from the banquet hall.

And that’s when I feel it. The pulsing power of what must be a recently opened rift.

Hopefully, when Juventas doesn’t return, Zeus assumes I went out the window as a nymph and doesn’t realize a Primordial was in his presence who used his rift. The risks don’t matter, though.

I open the rift before I can stop myself.

On the other side is the most grotesque scene I’ve ever seen. A man is chained to a stone. Blood coats the ground in front of him as the largest, palest eagle I have ever seen tears into his stomach.

I press a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries of horror. This is far worse than any nightmare could have prepared me for. A weak part of me wants to close the rift and pretend like such inhumanity cannot exist.

But then the man on the stone lifts his face. Prometheus. He does not scream, his mouth biting down on something. Tears stream freely down his face and sweat flattens his fiery hair to his head.

Worst of all, though, are Prometheus’ eyes. They are still the color of the hottest fire, yet, the light in them has dulled from pain. It is like he is being extinguished from the inside out.

Without another thought, I step through the rift and let it close behind me.