《Almost with Apollo》


 CH 1: Lost and Saved

    The Mediterranean air doesn¡¯t taste like anywhere.


    It isn¡¯t just the salt on your tongue, the heavy fragrance flowering the air. It¡¯s the whispers of memories of history, that which lingers from great love and war, lost to all but few who still hear the silent cries.


    Cora didn¡¯t know the myths and stories as well as she''d have liked, but she knew great passions left footprints that time could not erase. Certainly that was true of her own experience, leaving behind everything on this trip but her regrets, and what little she could fit into her rolling suitcase. Closing her eyes to the wisps of sea mist spraying over her, she feels the energy on this ship, relentlessly advancing into the maleficent waters which engulf her.


    Tonight it felt like the Gods were fighting.


    Cora feels the electricity tingling along her skin, raising the sensitive hairs of her arm without hint of a storm to mask the brilliant stars.


    ¡°Don¡¯t go, don¡¯t go, don¡¯t go...¡± Cora mutters, not to anyone who needed to hear. She could feel some of the ship¡¯s crew watching her as she looked out to sea. Great big oafs, their prodding eyes asking unwelcome favors. She realized what they must see: a girl barely twenty years old, thin and wilting without sun, hair tangled in the salty humid air, and a thin skirt damp and clinging against her skin. And to make it worse, she was alone and muttering to herself at night, an easy target that no one would miss.


    ¡°Which of you is the man my father plans to fire when we land?¡± Cora calls out loudly to the shadows. She silently congratulates herself when her voice doesn¡¯t crack.


    ¡°I¡¯d imagine the one who wasn¡¯t good to his daughter." One of the three men laughed darkly. He was more handsome than the other two, which is to say: his flat, broad features inherited from the lumpy brown potato in their family tree was a generation farther removed.


    That might have given him the misplaced confidence to add in a deep, graveled voice: ¡°I¡¯m good for a few things, but sailing isn¡¯t one of them.¡±


    ¡°Good for nothing I need, I¡¯m sure. I was getting by fine on my own,¡± Cora chides.


    The sailors laughed, but there was no joy in it.


    Cora felt embarrassed and vulnerable, wishing they would go about their work and leave her alone. At the same time, she didn¡¯t want to be too rude and make enemies. They¡¯ll be stuck together on this ship for the next week, after all. And potatoes were no doubt nutritious and good for you, in their own way.


    ¡°I¡¯m Nikolaos. You¡¯re Cora,¡± the sailor said with some concentration.


    ¡°Yes. Okay.¡±


    ¡°Your father wanted you out of Athens. Thought the city was a bad influence.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I was a good influence on the city. Did he ever think of that?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to startle you. I just thought you¡¯d want to come below deck before the storm.¡±


    ¡°You feel it in the air too? But I can see a thousand miles out here, and there aren¡¯t clouds anywhere.¡± Cora scanned the darkening horizon to confirm, quickly looking back to Nikolaos when she realized his eyes never left her.


    ¡°Not a rainstorm. We have all kinds of storms out here.¡± The man grinned broadly, causing his eyes to disappear into the underbrush between his heavy black eyebrows and his bristling beard. The sailor couldn¡¯t have been much older than her, but his weight and size looming over over her made him feel much older. The sea had not been kind to him, but Cora would do her best.


    ¡°What other kind of storms are there?¡± Cora asked uneasily.


    Nikolaos scratched his head with a hairy knuckle, glancing over his shoulder to find the other crewmen had abandoned him.


    ¡°My Uncle once said ¡®Whenever something is meant to be one, but is broken in two, there will always be a storm.¡¯ I think it¡¯s true for us, when one heart is divided, and true for the Gods, who shouldn¡¯t be fighting like they are tonight.¡±


    ¡°Your Uncle sounds like a wise man,¡± Cora said. Her inner hedgehog bristled, reluctantly letting down her defenses. ¡°I wish my father had sent me to stay with him, instead of my Aunt Zoe. I hardly even know her, except a few parties where she pinched my cheeks and called me names. I would have slapped her, if she¡¯d been a man.¡±


    ¡°You almost slapped me,¡± Nikolaos laughed, the stars of his eyes twinkle in and out from the forest.


    ¡°I still might,¡± Cora said, deadly serious. ¡°Why do you think the Gods are fighting tonight?¡±


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    ¡°Over you, I¡¯d guess.¡±


    His words hung unsupported in the air for several cold seconds. The heavy pressure in the atmosphere was growing. It felt as though the distance between the sky and the sea was squeezing down to a point, merging into some primordial element which both were born from.


    ¡°Or you know, Poseidon could be angry,¡± Nikolaos added hastily.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a thousand years since anybody¡¯s been afraid of Poseidon. How¡¯d you piss him off?¡± Cora expected another hearty laugh from the big fellow, but instead he appeared as shocked and offended as though she really had slapped him.


    ¡°I would never.¡± The sailor hardly dared to breathe. Then coughing and muttering to himself, he cast another glance over his shoulder to make sure the other crew were gone. Hardly a vacation, she was trapped on her father¡¯s freight ship. She didn¡¯t know what they were hauling, and made a point of not asking, since nobody asked her whether she wanted to go.


    It wasn¡¯t a huge ship, but Cora had spotted at least a dozen of sailors while she was boarding this morning. They all must be below deck now. They showed respect for the storm without clouds which brewed moodily over the black choppy water.


    ¡°Apollo probably played another trick on him,¡± Nikolaos said in a hushed voice. He leaned in while he talked, close enough to casually brush through a tangled strand of Cora¡¯s hair. She recoiled instinctually, but stayed close, needing to know more. ¡°The two of them have been fighting most nights this week. Sometimes if you close your eyes on a night like this, you can make out the words of Gods in the wind.¡±


    Cora closed her eyes, drinking deeply of the night. The waves lapping rhythmically, the breeze rustling through the sails, the creaking wooden boards, and there -- somewhere in the midst of it, from nowhere and everywhere, the sound which was not a sound, and yet was all of them combined to whisper the words for her:


    ¡°I won¡¯t go this time."


    So the sea seemed to say. If ever the wind ever were to speak a lie, it would be that cruel mockery of what she wished inside.


    ¡°Don¡¯t go,¡± Cora whispered back.


    ¡°I thought we''d both go downstairs, but I¡¯ll stay if you want,¡± Nikolaos replied eagerly.


    Cora felt the warmth of his breath on her face. Her eyes flashed open in time to see him leaning close to her again.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking to you!¡± she nearly shouted to be heard over the imagined whispers of the night.


    ¡°You¡¯re a real brat, you know that?¡± Nikolaos raised his voice in return, a threatening growl. ¡°I¡¯m the only one out here being nice to you. Your own father didn¡¯t want you around. Who are you too good for?¡±


    The wind whipped through the sails with more intensity, rising to match their tone. The water lashed more urgently against the side of the boat, but Nikolaos didn¡¯t seem to notice anymore. His face was flushed, his bright eyes all but vanished within his scowl.


    ¡°Watch your voice with me. Poseidon is listening,¡± Cora said sternly. She pushed away from the railing of the boat, and made to move toward the stairs leading below deck.


    Nikolaos stepped in time with her, an unwelcome dance in rhythm to block the way with his broad chest and crossed arms. ¡°You know nothing about the old Gods. Don¡¯t speak their names like that.¡±


    ¡°Why not? Are you scared of them, like you¡¯re scared of my daddy?¡± Cora taunted. She tried to duck under and around the sailor, but his grasping hands sent her lurching back. Her bare feet scrape and stumble along the tilting wooden deck.


    ¡°Poseidon! Apollo! Do you see how he treats me?"


    "Not tonight. Stop it. You must stop!" Nikolaos was beside himself with agitation. His hands clamp over his ears, a vice against her blasphemous words.


    "Apollo! Why do you fight tonight? I need you here with me!"


    Nikolaos howled furiously. The whites of his eyes flashed feral as he lunges toward Cora.


    She was ready, pivoting on her back heel to change directions, away from the stairs and toward the railing.


    The big man was faster than she expected though, barreling straight toward her.


    The mercy of man on one side, the mercy of Gods at the other, Cora felt her back against the barrier. The sea grew frenzied now, inoculated by unseen winds to pitch the boat back and forth.


    Too much, too fast, too desperate to get away. The breath was knocked from Cora, the hard railing slamming into her back. The boat rose and fell, crashing down the other side of the mountain of water.


    A giant splash. Hissing spray of the sea comes like grasping hands to seize Cora by the legs and hurl her over the side.


    "Apollo don''t go!" A last gasp to escape her throat before plunging down. The dark cold water swallows her and drowns her cry.


    "Not this time." The words were with her, encompassing her as surely as the sea. "This time Poseidon has gone too far."


    Powerful arms pressed her to him, as hard as marble. Strong and unyielding, yet the warmth of life flowed into her through his touch.


    Her eyes clenched against the stinging salt, but she could not bear to feel him without seeing. She peeked through her eyelashes enough to see his radiance which shone as though lit from beneath his skin. Smooth and unblemished by mortal hurt, but withdrawn and wearied from bearing what no mortal could. His blue eyes the ocean she sank within, fair hair unburden by the waters weight. Her wonder reflected in his eyes, as though holding her, he discovered that which his immortal years taught him was impossible to exist.


    An aura of safety and confidence perhaps, or pride and arrogance, written sharply across his high cheeks. But more than his face was the presence which dominated sky and waves. To look at him was to hate the weakness in herself which did not let her turn away. But not to look would be to surrender to his challenge, he who would disdain such weakness.


    "Don''t go," was all she could gasp, holding her head above the dark roiling sea.


    The fragile moment breaks. What surely was his wonder turns sour with contempt. He looks away from her, the line of his jaw colder than stone, though his arms still bear her weight above the water.


    "Poseidon!" the God roars, a battle hymn like percussions against Cora''s brain. "Where have you gone, Poseidon?"


    Then glaring down at her, with a passion and hatred she never wished to see again, Apollo said:


    "I would have had him, if I''d not stopped to pluck you from his kingdom."


    "Don''t go." What else could the poor girl say? All the force left in her body in those words. She clung helplessly to the angry God, praying for the warmth she needed to survive.


    "I should have let you drown," he said, offering only ice.

 CH 2: Take me with you

    Cora was the crest upon the waves, breaking and reforming again by the moment. She clung desperately to Apollo, her arms locked around his marble neck as he rose through the water. Powerful strokes of his legs propelled them, while his arms hung limp at his side, unsure and clumsy with the girl. Cora allowed herself to press her body against the God, wrapping her legs around his midsection to ensure her grip. His warmth was hope, and she clung to him as she clung to life itself, lost in those dark waters.


    They were headed back towards the ship which tossed treacherously upon the waves nearby. The tempest was all about them now, raising the waves into towering mountains before hurling them to shatter in endless violence. Yet the night sky above was unmasked and brilliant, the moon undisturbed by cloud or storm. It was as though the water moved with will of its own, or that of Poseidon, who sought to drag them down into his domain.


    ¡°You can¡¯t take me back there!¡± Cora protested, as soon as she could get a mouthful of air.


    ¡°You will be safe on the boat while I finish my business with Poseidon,¡± Apollo replied curtly.


    ¡°No I won¡¯t! I only fell into the ocean in the first place because I was fleeing for my life!¡±


    Apollo hesitated. He turned from his course and looked at Cora, his face only inches from hers. His breath was warm against her freezing skin: an unfamiliar scent of far off worlds intoxicating amidst the salt. They were so close in that stolen moment, but so far away too, as he seemed to be looking into the distance over the horizon even as he looked at her. No more than several seconds could have passed, but the tension of the connection was too much for her to bear. She bit her lip and turned away, fumbling for the words which might stay her return another moment.


    ¡°I was a prisoner on the boat,¡± Cora said. Half truth, and half a lie. But it gave her an idea to continue with: ¡°I was a prisoner, on my way to jail. If you take me back there, I¡¯m going to be locked up for the rest of my life!¡±


    Okay so that wasn¡¯t true. But the idea of living with her aunt certainly felt that way. By the time she found the courage to look at his face again, he had already turned away to search the dark horizon.


    ¡°I will take you to the shore,¡± Apollo conceded. ¡°I do not want you involved in this dispute.¡±


    ¡°Not good enough! They¡¯ll find me! You have to take me where my father¡¯s men won¡¯t think to look. Somewhere they wouldn¡¯t find in a million years.¡±


    ¡°Mount Olympus?¡± Apollo mused.


    ¡°Absolutely what I was thinking.¡± Go for it, girl, she thought. When else would you get the chance?


    ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Apollo arched his eyebrows, cold against the moonlight. ¡°Mortals are strictly forbidden. Hera insisted after an incident with Zeus.¡±


    Cora made a mental note to find out more about that incident, and perhaps congratulate the cause of it. She was surprised to find herself so accepting of the idea of ancient Gods still living in hidden places of the world. But of course, after a night like this, it would be madness to think anything else. She could tell Apollo was headed towards the shore now, although his intentions beyond were inscrutable.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t you ever done something you¡¯re not supposed to?¡± Cora asked amidst the stinging salt.


    ¡°Is that the reason they are putting you in jail?¡±


    Cora fumbled, forgetting for a moment she was a criminal in this story. Flustered, she shot back: ¡°Why are you and Poseidon fighting? Are you telling me that there¡¯s something shameful about saving a girl from drowning, but nothing shameful about fighting your brother?¡±


    ¡°The Gods are just as petty as men.¡± Apollo chuckled. A ghost of his smile lingered on his hard features. She watched it fade like a ripple in the water. A haunted look came over his face, dwelling on a past best left buried.


    ¡°What do you have buried?¡± Cora barely breathes the words, not expecting Apollo to turn his head. The ripple of his smile came and went.


    ¡°Who are you to wish to be involved with Gods?¡± Apollo asked. ¡°Tonight should have been enough warning for how dangerous that can be.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Cora.¡±


    ¡°An answer fitting a mortal: shallow and empty.¡±


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    The shore was getting closer. Numb with cold, chest burning for air, throat raw and parched from the salt, limbs aching to the point of dropping off, Cora wished the journey would never end.


    ¡°I¡¯m Cora,¡± she repeated, stubbornly furrowing her brow. ¡°That means something to the people who know me.¡± In a moment she summoned a thousand pleasant lies, making herself a noblewoman, or a bandit queen, or anything else to make her seem more interesting than she was. But he was looking at her again, curiosity lighting his eyes, steel gray in the darkness. Wonder opened his face and softened his features as though seeing her again for the first time. She could not lie to him and steal that wonder.


    ¡°I make a lot of mistakes,¡± Cora said, resting her head against Apollo¡¯s shoulder as he swam. ¡°I¡¯m not graceful. I tripped half the class trying to learn how to dance. And I wanted to be a musician, but I could never keep the rhythm. And I wanted to love myself, but somehow I couldn¡¯t, and so let someone else tell me they loved me instead. I thought I wasn¡¯t good for anything, until someone came along and told me I was good for him. And then I thought I needed him, even though he wasn¡¯t good to me, because I wasn¡¯t good for anything else. I give my heart away like it costs me nothing, and I¡¯m still paying off my mistakes. So if you want to know who I am, then you will know me by the ones who hurt me, know me by my father who wanted to get rid of me, and know me by the love I have to give. I¡¯m Cora: the girl who is starting again in the most unusual way. The one who holds onto what¡¯s beautiful in life for as long as there is strength left in me. Mortals are not so simple that you will find a shortcut to understanding who a person is.¡±


    They arrived now on shore. Cora reluctantly undid the lock of her fingers behind Apollo¡¯s back. She staggered on frozen numb legs from the shallow water to the sand, tripping as an unseen wave swelled behind her. Apollo caught her by the arm, wrapping his own arm around her to support her until they were clear of the waves. Then kneeling beside her, he guided her to rest on the ground, effortlessly holding the weight of her body as he lowered her into the dry sand. He remained leaning above her, his hands dug into the sand on either side of her, staring down.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked breathlessly.


    ¡°I¡¯m Apollo. You know that already.¡±


    Cora shook her head.


    Apollo sighed and allowed himself to collapse into the sand beside her. He took a double fistful of little shells and flung them into the air, scattering them into the moonlight.


    ¡°That¡¯s me. The seashells.¡±


    Cora giggled, unsure whether he was trying to answer, or making fun of her.


    ¡°Washed up on a beach where I don¡¯t belong,¡± Apollo continued. ¡°An empty shell, once full of life, now hollow on an alien world. And so what if I fight with my brother? We are rivals, it is no wonder that we would be at each other¡¯s throats. But it¡¯s been worse ever since Poseidon cheated in a competition for my father¡¯s favor. I would have had my revenge tonight and proved how he was a cheat, if I hadn¡¯t stopped my chase to save you.¡±


    ¡°What would you have done if you caught him?¡±


    Apollo laughed: warm, real mirth which sounded too human for the cold exterior he portrayed. ¡°How should I know? No more I know what to do with you, now that I¡¯ve caught you in my net.¡±


    ¡°You should have let me drown,¡± she teased, and he laughed again. ¡°Why did you save me, if you think so little of the mortal world?¡± Cora pressed.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know mortals were¡­¡± His voice trailed off. Did the God blush? Apollo sat up abruptly, and she couldn¡¯t tell for sure. He rapidly dusted the sand from his muscular frame. Flexible and swift, with a motion that could have driven a spear through a man¡¯s chest, Apollo beat at his body with unexpected savagery until the sand fell away.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said, his voice cold once more. ¡°I have no business with mortals. I will not meddle anymore.¡±


    ¡°Take me to Olympus, and then you can be done with me if you want,¡± Cora said indignantly.


    ¡°You will not like it there.¡±


    ¡°I like it more than here already.¡±


    ¡°The nymphs will be cruel to you.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ve been so kind?¡±


    ¡°I saved your life.¡±


    ¡°Not yet, you haven¡¯t.¡± Cora was on her feet now, facing his curt remarks without flinching. ¡°Do you really think of yourself as some selfless hero? If you leave now, then I¡¯ll be captured again, and you might as well have let me drown.¡±


    ¡°So?¡± he growled. ¡°Mortals have an end. Sooner or later, you¡¯ll be gone either way. Who will care?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll care. You didn¡¯t save me for me, you saved me for you. Because you saw something in me that you won¡¯t easily forget.¡±


    ¡°Maybe there¡¯s something beautiful about a mortal fighting for their life in a way the Gods never do,¡± Apollo admitted. ¡°If Gods ever had a weakness, it is for beauty.¡±


    ¡°Will you be happier with yourself knowing I¡¯m rotting in prison, instead of being drowned?¡±


    ¡°As long as you are in prison, I will not be free,¡± he confessed, unexpected emotion cracking his voice.


    ¡°And if Poseidon takes me instead, to live out the rest of my days at the bottom of the sea. If he hurts me, for no other reason than to torment you, then will you be happy?¡±


    ¡°I would sooner see him crowned the king of the Gods.¡±


    ¡°Because you care for me. And if being a God means anything at all, it means not letting harm come to those you care for.¡±


    Apollo nodded stiffly. ¡°I will take you to Olympus.¡±


    A thousand years at the bottom of the sea could not rob Cora of the heat and excitement she felt flooding through her body. She did not expect the boldness of her own words, or the feeling of the return. She never would have spoken that way to anyone else, but with Apollo she felt an understanding so deep that there was no harm in acknowledging their connection. Cora tried not to think about what she said next, knowing she would never say it if she were thinking.


    ¡°Because you love me. Even if you don¡¯t yet know what that means.¡±


    Apollo laughed. ¡°We cannot swim to Olympus. I will put a spell on you so that we may fly. Do you trust me?¡±


    ¡°I trust this feeling,¡± she replied.


    ¡°So do I,¡± the God replied.

 CH 3: Flight to Olympus

    Cora was captured by the magic of the night even before the God worked his spell to take them to Olympus. The sands of the beach were glowing embers beneath the moon, and the rhythm of the waves created music Cora had never heard equal to.


    Her father couldn''t have planned this when he intended her to leave the city. But away from the noise and the lights, out of sight from the world, lost in a secret fantasy which was too precious to be real, she never wanted to go back. Not to the city, not to who she was, hurt and guarded. She went straight from feeling too much, to being hurt and guarded and afraid to feel anything at all. If Cora hadn''t almost drowned tonight, then everything would have been perfect. No, even so, she needed the thrill and the fear to break through her defenses and wake her to the possibilities of the moment. Cora marveled at her own courage and tranquility as she said:


    "I will go anywhere you take me."


    Staring up at the tall God, as pale as the moon with a light of his own, it was impossible to be afraid.


    "First let me ask why you trust me?" Apollo asked her cautiously.


    "I suppose it''s silly, isn''t it? I''ve heard all sorts of stories of the trouble that mortals get up to when they get involved with Gods.


    "I''ve lived them. It doesn''t end well." His voice rolled slow and deep, heavy with regret.


    "Maybe I don''t trust you at all. But I''ve decided -- decided tonight, actually, that I do trust myself. I''ve been right all night after all: I was right about what the sailor wanted before he chased me. I was right about feeling the storm, even without clouds in the sky. And I''m right about this: that I would rather be unsafe with you than safe anywhere else."


    Apollo took Cora suddenly by the hand to led her down the beach. He seemed shocked by his own action, pausing to stare at their hands clasped together. Then without looking at her, he briskly pulled Cora along the beach.


    "The way to Olympus is secret from mortals. Will you still trust me if you must make the journey blind?"


    Cora tensed for a moment, but relaxed within Apollo''s strong grip. "I will."


    "Then I shall trust you to close your eyes and keep them shut. I would not cover your face with cloth -- I wish to look at it upon the journey."


    Apollo led Cora onto the trunk of a fallen olive tree at the edge of the sand. He walked behind, putting a hand on each of her hips to help her balance. The fresh bark was smooth beneath her bare feet. Her toes crunched and gripped for balance. She was vaguely conscious that the old her would be so afraid of falling and making a fool of herself that she would never risk it. But vague thoughts were no match for her simple joy, her smile so wide and persistence that it was beginning to hurt.


    "Then close your eyes. You''re going to count ten steps, then we''ll be off."


    Cora did as he said. His hands released her suddenly, and she flailed in the open air for a moment. She didn''t open her eyes despite the moment of panic. An instant later, Apollo caught her by the hand again, holding her arm as he led her down the length of the trunk.


    "One, two, three," he began counting in time with her steps.


    "You were testing me to see if I would open my eyes! Don''t do that!" Cora exclaimed, half amused, half annoyed.


    "Four, five, six."


    "I''m not going to have to walk to Olympus, will I?"


    "Seven, eight, nine." Apollo continued counting, his voice rising and falling in a melodic chant. Cora fell silent, suddenly aware that she might be disrupting the spell. The tree trunk wasn''t that long though, and she was surprised not to have fallen off the end yet.


    "Ten."


    The largest wave yet crashed against the shore as he spoke the word. Cora flinched at the cold spray of water which reached her all the way at the back of the beach. She kept her eyes clenched tight though. Keeping her word had never been so important to her before. The silence was unbearable though, because she could feel him staring at her. She could do nothing to hide.


    "Well?" Cora asked at last.


    Then she noticed -- there was no bark beneath her feet anymore. She took another step, gingerly, feeling a gentle cushion of air harden to catch her weight. Cora gripped Apollo''s hand more tightly now, then both of her hands wrapped around his arm. Her stomach lurched, her heart already nowhere to be found, she felt herself rising into the air. A cool breeze blew up, whipping her damp skirt around her legs, her wounded wings fluttering to still bear her on this miraculous flight.


    "How far is Olympus?" Cora had to raise her voice to be heard above the mounting wind.


    "I forgot. Mortals are very concerned with that sort of thing."


    Again the cautiousness creeping into his voice. The way he said mortal, as though it were some dirty word. It made Cora more afraid than her blind flight or the angry ocean. It was enough to make her catch her breath, listening for old doubts in forgotten dungeons rattling their chains.


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    How easy it would be for a God to forget her. Whatever magic this night held for her, it was probably a very ordinary night for a God. He might save the lives of ten girls a week just for the fun of it.


    "Have you known many mortals?" Cora asked, needing to know and wishing she never found out.


    "Of course. Over the years."


    "I don''t mean have you met any. I mean have you really known any. Well enough to know what it''s like to be mortal? Have you ever loved one?"


    There was a long silence. Cora wanted nothing more than to open her eyes to see what was in his face. Had his smooth brow furrowed in pain at a memory, eternally outlasting the one who inspired it? Was it disgust, his noble lip drawn into a sneer? Or perhaps his lips were parted in wonder, as he stared at her and saw the possibilities a mortal could promise which had never occurred to him before.


    "Yes, I loved one. It was a mistake."


    "What happened to her?" Cora pressed.


    "Hera turned her into a white stag."


    "That doesn''t sound so bad." Silence. Cora giggled. "Sorry. That must have been very difficult. Did you keep her as a pet?"


    "You don''t seem very concerned about the risk of what might happen to you."


    "It''s only a risk if you''re at risk of loving me."


    Apollo laughed. The sound was a barrier to the cold wind of their flight. She had the burning urge to open her eyes again. At the same time, there was a quiet confidence of being blind, throwing out her words and trusting they find their mark.


    "Oh Cora, it is more than a risk. I have seen Goddesses with less confidence than you."


    "What are they like? The Goddesses. Their skin and hair must be absolutely perfect. They probably don''t even need makeup."


    Apollo chuckled.


    "They are proud, and cold, and clever. Always planning or scheming something, never quite what they appear."


    "Like you, you mean."


    "I''m sorry. I did not mean to be cold to you. I suppose I was a bit in shock too."


    "Then why didn''t you kiss me after you saved me?"


    Apollo laughed again. There was a helpless exasperation in it that Cora very much liked. It made her feel like his defenses to her were breaking and being hurled to the wind.


    She hadn''t expected anything when she said it. With her eyes closed, she had no warning until his breath was on her face. Taking her other hand, he swung her through the air as though in dance. Then the salt of his lips, as soft as the clouds heavy with rain, brushing against hers. She did not draw back, nor move forward, nor dare to breathe as he pressed his mouth firmly against hers. And then he was gone, letting go with one hand and letting her spin into the empty air, so that only the strength in his fingers kept her from becoming a spinning meteor towards the ground.


    "That will have to last until we arrive."


    "And when we arrive?" Cora asked breathlessly.


    "Mortals are so impatient." Apollo laughed. It came so easy to him now, bubbling out of him like ecstasy. Apollo spoke more freely after that. He told her about Olympus, its marble pillars, its golden halls. He told her of the statues which dance to the singing nymphs. Of the great fires which rage day and night, and the banquets thrown by Dionysus, with rivers of wine and cascading falls from the mountain tops. He told her of its gardens which hung from the walls and ran wild for miles around the secret palace, and Cora was mesmerized.


    Soon she began to breathe the heavy fragrance of the air. They were slowing now, the wind growing warmer and mild. They must be closer to the ground, although it seemed that they only increased their elevation through the entirety of the journey. Olympus must be high in the mountains, although she wouldn''t mention even this trivial observation, knowing the location to be secret.


    "You can open your eyes now. Thank you for keeping your word."


    Cora did so, breaking the crystals of frozen tears which formed during their flight. They were passing low over jagged stony peaks of mountain tops. Heavy clouds hung about them. They descended through pastel clouds of lavender and light blue and pink, revealing a vast forest of wild and tangled gardens. Fields of oleander bushes ran wild, their blossoms smoldering colored smoke of red and pink and white to rise and join the scented clouds.


    "I thought Olympus was a palace? Where are the marble pillars? Or the banquet actually sounds best. I haven''t eaten anything since before I boarded the ship this morning. This morning! Had it really been so recently? An entire lifetime seemed to have passed since then.


    Cora¡¯s feet grazed the grass for several seconds before touching the earth, so gently did they descend. What appeared to be low shrubs from the air distorted in perspective, seeming to grow out to reach them until they rose above as strange trees with twisted limbs.


    Softly glowing orbs hung from the branches, more spirits than they were fruit.


    "This is as close as I will bring you, or else you will be seen."


    Apollo let go of her hand. He stepped back to stare at her, saying nothing. Behind him the horizon was beginning to lighten with the first promise of morning.


    "What are you looking at now? Didn''t you get enough chance for that on the journey?"


    "Not on a hundred journeys," the God replied.


    He looked as though he wanted to say more, but they were interrupted by the face of a woman forming in one of the twisted trees. A knot in the bark parted to reveal emerald green eyes, and lips like autumn''s glory. With a dry old voice, the tree asked:


    "Where have you been all night, Apollo?"


    "Quiet nymph," Apollo commanded in a voice much harder than he¡¯d used with Cora. A voice that was accustomed to being obeyed without question.


    "Who have you got with you?" the nymph pressed suspiciously. "I don''t recognize her as one of your usuals."


    "One of your usuals? And pray, dear Apollo, how many times do you usually catch a girl when you go fishing?¡±


    "The nymph doesn''t mean it that way. She will mind her own business, if she knows what''s best for her."


    "I know I''m safe with you. I''m not going to hide. I want to see the palace. And don''t forget that mortals really do need to eat!"


    "Mortal? Did she say mortal?" the nymph cried shrill.


    "Cora!" Apollo scolded.


    "What? I''m sorry, I thought she knew. When she said you bring others..."


    "Not mortals!" Apollo howled.


    But it was too late. More faces were forming in the trees. The whispered word ¡®mortal¡¯ ran between them as wind through the leaves.


    "Mortal... mortal... mortal..." The words came louder and louder as they bounced back and forth, one tree to the next, then onto two more, then back to the first who repeated it louder. A storm in the forest, building from whispers all the way into shrieking cries. The morning peace was shattered, and every God and creature within miles could not help but be woken.


    "I''m sorry!" Cora wailed. She had felt so safe, so confident, so sure. She wasn''t thinking, and now it was too late. Clumsy, stupid, just the same as she¡¯d always been.


    "Mortal! Mortal! Mortal!"


    The entire tangled garden shouted the evil word. The heavy air bludgeoning them with the accusing cry. The alarm was out. There was no going back. Love¡¯s spell a fragile thing which shatters in the morning light.

 CH: 4 The Nymphs Secret

    Cora was terrified. The trees were against her. The world was against her. The very air, once deliciously fragrant, now heavy and choking for her rapid breath. She looked helplessly at Apollo to do something. His silhouette against the morning light was more ghostly and insubstantial than throughout the night. The light from the sun seemed to magnify and reflect from him, so that his skin glowed an ivory moon. How had she become lost in him so quickly: knowing so little, being so different.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be turned into a white stag,¡± Cora said. ¡°What are we going to do, Apollo?¡±


    ¡°Nothing bad will happen to you. As long as you are not seen with me. It will go better for you if we part ways for now.¡±


    ¡°Part ways? Do you mean you¡¯re going to leave me here in the wilderness in a world I don¡¯t belong? And without even breakfast, I might add!¡±


    The light was so bright she could barely make out his features anymore. Was he laughing at her, or in tears? She couldn¡¯t bear the silence, and pressed on:


    ¡°Did last night mean so much less to you than it did to me?


    ¡°I will protect you, always.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t go!¡± The words locked, but always breaking free. ¡°Please don¡¯t go!¡±


    Blinding the radiance, a nova of light like a sunspot echoing through her eyes. She rubbed them and could see the outline of the bones in her hand from the brightness. And then it was gone ¡ª and then he was gone ¡ª the morning sun returned to the sky. Cora rubbed her eyes with her hands, bitter beyond words.


    ¡°Don¡¯t go, don¡¯t go,¡± she muttered.


    This adventure turned out not to be an escape. She was not a new girl, after all. She was the same old fool who believed every smile and promise, casually given, and casually lost.


    Cora had done her best not to think about her mistakes, but here in the wild tangled trees with their leering faces¡­ old thoughts came tumbling to bury her and send her to her knees. Apollo had been no different than Konstantin after all. She had spoken those words first to him, begging him not to go after he was satisfied with her. And the worst thing about it was, the humiliation of asking for love which could only be freely given. She never really loved Konstantin, but she still begged for him to stay, because Cora needed to be loved.


    Cora didn¡¯t care about the whispering faces of the nymphs in the trees anymore. On her knees in defeat, she cradled her right hand in her left. She remembered what it felt like to only hold his hand a little while, and how much more she would have felt if he had only stayed. But maybe she didn¡¯t really love Apollo either. Maybe she only needed to be loved, and thought the love of a God would give her a value that she could not find for herself.


    ¡°Don¡¯t go, don¡¯t go.¡± In a sing-song voice now.


    Of course the answer must be to love yourself first. But as brave as she felt she had been with her feelings, she was not brave enough for that. She had been a fool too many times to forgive. She had known her wicked, petty thoughts that only she can know. She laughed at herself thinking how jealous she was of the white stag which Apollo might be going to even now.


    The whisper of the wind in the trees was growing louder again. Cora looked up into the green eyes of the nymph carved into the tree. She was sure a face hadn¡¯t been in that particular tree right beside before, but now the red leaves that were lips parted with a sigh.


    ¡°Oh you poor thing.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t pretend this isn¡¯t your fault!¡± Cora was too angry to be frightened. She didn¡¯t even bother to rise from her knees.


    ¡°Hera instructed us, and we obeyed. That is the way of things here.¡±


    ¡°I thought Zeus was in charge of Olympus.¡±


    ¡°Technically, I suppose.¡± The nymphs chattered and laughed through the leaves. ¡°Unless Zeus has been caught with another mortal, as he was again last week. Then we know that Hera will be in charge. At least until the next council of the Gods.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s it, ah¡­¡± Cora blushed and paused. ¡°What¡¯s it like for a mortal to be with a God? Nothing bad happens to the mortal, does it? Physically, I mean. They don¡¯t burn up in a puff of smoke, do they?¡±


    The leaves were a hurricane of laughter. When it seemed they would not answer, Cora asked:


    ¡°What¡¯s Hera so jealous about anyway? If she thinks so little of mortals, why should she care what Zeus does for fun?¡±


    Cora mentally congratulated herself on how tolerant that made her sound. Although of course she understood Hera perfectly well, and would have done the same to Apollo had she ever caught him.


    ¡°Because mortals are a threat to her,¡± the nymph whispered conspiratorially.


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    ¡°Hush Meliae!¡± Another tree hissed. ¡°We are Hera¡¯s servants, after all. We would not betray her secrets.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Oreads,¡± Meliae said from beside her. ¡°There is no reason Hera should fear mortals. They are dust in the wind.¡±


    ¡°What is Hera going to do with me, exactly?¡±


    ¡°Nothing much, dear. As long as she doesn¡¯t catch you with one of the Gods, she will send you on your way back home.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t got a home anymore. Nowhere I want to go back to,¡± Cora said.


    ¡°Then you will find a home among your own kind.¡± The wind sighed with compassionate.


    ¡°So Apollo was right to leave. I am safer this way.¡±


    ¡°Apollo does what Hera says. If she says mortals are forbidden fruit, then you will rot of age before you¡¯re plucked.¡±


    ¡°So he always does what his mother says, is that it?¡± Cora rose from her knees at last, turning in a slow circle to look at all the nymphs. There must be two dozen faces at least, all watching her and murmuring to each other.


    ¡°He is a good son, but now more than usual.¡± The second nymph Oreads laughed. ¡°Apollo and Poseidon have been competing in a tournament of challenges for their father¡¯s favor. They have been at each other¡¯s throats for the last hundred years now, and it is finally coming to a close. Apollo would not commit himself to this competition so fiercely for so long, only to throw it away by angering Hera. With Zeus so fearful of Hera, and Hera so intent against mortals, there is no possibility of your love coming to bloom.¡±


    ¡°Who said anything about love?¡± Cora asked testily.


    ¡°And who could blame you if you did?¡± The soft murmur, an ocean wave. ¡°Who could be more glorious than Apollo, God of the sun? Who else would you more long to touch, than feel the warmth of healing that is his gift? A gentle soul, Apollo is known for his music and song, but his words are no idle things. For in them too bears prophecy, a foresight to know what even the wisest Gods are blind to. Who could not love the light that shines from him?¡±


    Meliae sighed. And with her the sigh of half the forest, nymphs swaying in their own wind. It seemed to Cora that the forest itself was in love with Apollo. She felt like such a fool for thinking his spell on her had been for her alone. He had his choice of any mortal or Goddess who looked upon him. The warmth of his touch was not a magic connection, but simply the healing that flows from his aura. And she felt like a stupid little girl to be swept away in such an impossible fantasy.


    Yet in Cora glowed too a secret hope, that she dared not voice, even in her own mind, for fear of it melting with the light. For Apollo when leaving said ¡®I will always protect you¡¯. His words are not idle things, said the nymph, but they are bound in prophecy. How could he offer such a blessing without love to hold him to his word?


    ¡°The poor thing.¡± Meliae laughs. Cora doesn¡¯t care.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going back down.¡± Cora smiles defiantly back at them, shielded by her secret hope. ¡°You¡¯re not going to tell Hera that I¡¯m mortal.¡± Then shouting: ¡°Not a single one of you!¡± into the listening forest.


    ¡°And what will we tell her?¡± Meliae asks in a conspiratorial whisper, red leaves trembling with excitement.


    ¡°You¡¯ll say that I¡¯m a nymph.¡± Cora crosses her arms stubbornly. ¡°You¡¯ll say that I¡¯ve been turned into a woman by Poseidon, who was trying to use me to play a trick on Apollo. I wanted nothing to do with the plan, and you can all confirm that you know me as Cora, the immortal nymph. Someone who belongs to stay here, just like the rest of you.¡±


    ¡°You are too friendly with this girl,¡± Oreads scolds. ¡°We will do nothing to anger Hera.¡± The branches of the tree swayed in a threatening manner.


    ¡°There is no harm in this game,¡± Meliae laughs. ¡°We feel for the girl, don¡¯t we sisters? We will keep her secret from Hera.¡± The whisper rattled the branches. ¡°And in return!¡± Meliae says, even louder. ¡°You will bring us Apollo¡¯s walking staff. A simple stick, he would never miss it, once he has you in his sight.¡±


    The whisper was a storm again. The branches overhead dipped so low to the ground, the whole trunk swaying to sweep their upper boughs across the earth. Cora thought they might be attacking her for a moment, before realizing this was a sort of dance. It spread form Meliae to the others, all bending in different directions, shaking leaves into a blizzard. Even Oreads joined in, swinging and thrashing and celebrating with the rest.


    Then Cora heard it too: the faint music which the nymphs were dancing to. A simple melody of a plucking lyre. Rising and falling, but returning always to a lower beat which stirred the hearts of the nymphs and drove them into dance. It was softly sweet in its longing, a grief full of beauty, a heart content not being whole.


    The music soon faded again, but the nymphs kept dancing for several minutes to the sound only they could hear. When the wind of their whirling stills, the whisper returns to say:


    ¡°We will keep your secret, girl. Your prophecy has not yet been told.¡±


    Apollo was known for his music. Was this him protecting her now?


    ¡°Do not forget the walking stick,¡± Oreads grumbled.


    ¡°I will do my best!¡± Cora promised.


    Cora could see Hera¡¯s crown before she saw the woman. A star on earth caught the light of the morning sun and held it within its giant diamond. The crown seemed to float through the air, not quite touching the perfectly straight black hair, which fell as an iron curtain to protect her eloquent neck. The approaching Goddess also seemed to float, taking the motion of steps, but never quite reaching the ground. Cora had never imagined such a beautiful creature in her life. But not quite beautiful like a woman, but more beautiful like a tiger, muscular and poised, stored destruction ready to be unleashed.


    ¡°Are you the reason for the alarm?¡± Hera asked Cora. If Apollo was simply afraid of his mother, then Cora couldn¡¯t fault him anymore. Her words were a noose around Cora¡¯s neck, tightening her throat into a pinhole of air.


    ¡°The alarm was a mistake,¡± Oreads was the first nymph to speak. Then repeating Cora¡¯s story, told Hera that Cora was the victim of Poseidon¡¯s trick.


    ¡°The girl is not to blame,¡± Meliae added. ¡°Cora, the wood nymph, is one of our sisters, and your faithful servants. There are no mortals here.¡±


    Hera nodded, and immediately the pressure of her presence relaxed enough for Cora to breathe. She touched her neck with her fingers, gingerly in case there was an unseen wound. Her skin was whole, but she was shaken to her core.


    ¡°I think we will all be relieved when their stupid competition is over,¡± Hera snapped.


    ¡°Your watch for the night is over, nymphs. Come, it is time to prepare the feast. We will see what trial Zeus has prepared for his sons today, and celebrate the glory of his power he has given them.¡±


    Cora was in. She was going to be staying at Olympus now. She as going to live in the same palace as Apollo. She would see him about her day, and they would have all the time in the world to find themselves alone. And perhaps most magical of all, the idea of a waiting feast, to drink the nectar of the Gods and forget she ever was mortal at all.

 CH 5: Tournament of the Gods

    It didn¡¯t matter what else happened to Cora. No matter what journeys or torments lay ahead, even if she were thrown from the mountain heights to her ruin among the rocks. No matter if she was a slave in this palace for the rest of her days. It was worth it, just thinking of the feast to come.


    The tree nymphs were not themselves part of the tangled trees. They pulled themselves free as gently as a spirit passes dying lips. They bore the shape of humans, but unmistakably their skin was textured like bark; the veins of leaves ran bright beneath. The servants of the Gods were half plant themselves. Their heads were all twigs and branches, with sprouting flowers and leaves in place of hair. They bowed their heads before Hera¡¯s storm, not looking up again until the pressure of the Goddess faded. Whispering, giggling behind Hera¡¯s back, they followed. Beckoned to Cora, laughing, sharing her secret. She was one of them now.


    They traveled through the tangled garden a good distance behind Hera. More Nymphs peeled themselves free of the trees and joined their procession toward the palace. Some of them were beginning to sing, and it seemed music played through the wind and the branches. Cora half imagined the notes of a lyre. There was no sign of Apollo since his departure, but she felt his eyes on her still, just as when she flew blind through the night.


    Cora was tired and said little. She listened to the Nymphs talk to her about their duties at the palace. Things were kept clean by magic, and the ambrosia of the Gods was prepared in secret without the nymphs. Mostly they would attend to the Gods directly, caught up in their willful passions of the moment.


    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous work, of course.¡± Meliae, the younger nymph, smiled too wide for a human. Her skin split and reformed as healing bark. She was more proud of being in danger than she was of the duties. ¡°We¡¯re often tasked by one God to do something which runs contrary to the plans of another. We know one of them will be angered by whatever we do! They often punish the messenger, unless we are artful in our delivery and method.¡±


    ¡°So it is with our passions,¡± Oreads said sagely. ¡°One desire always conflicts with another. If we are too hasty to satisfy one, then surely we will suffer the consequences.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for helping me, all the same,¡± Cora said. ¡°I do hope Hera won¡¯t do anything bad to you.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s too distracted by the tournament of the Gods.¡±


    ¡°I do not understand. What are they competing for? What could the Gods possibly want that they don¡¯t already have?¡±


    ¡°Their father¡¯s love,¡± Oreads said. There was always a sad note to her song.


    ¡°Apollo told me that Poseidon cheated. Is this true?¡±


    The nymphs laughed, a chorus of yes and no at once. And that made them laugh all the harder.


    The trees gave way to low shrubs here. The gardens were becoming more tame as they progressed up the mountain. Then Cora saw the palace itself, shining marble in the dawn. The rocky crag which cradled Olympus was an island in itself. It was built an impossibility, rising from the center of a steaming sea of magical currents. Innumerable marble stairs rose from the water, all the way up to soaring heights amidst the colored clouds. Great pillars of the palace bore soaring halls which entered the mountain itself. Those outside were capped with golden domes, brighter whose glory must spark jealousy in the sun.


    ¡°I do think Poseidon cheated,¡± Meliae said firmly. ¡°The tournament is much more than a squabble. Zeus plans to announce the true prize at the feast tonight. All the Gods have attended the trials for years. All have been eliminated one by one, by failure or surrender to the impossible tasks Zeus set them to. Now only Apollo and Poseidon remain.¡±


    ¡°How did Poseidon cheat? I can¡¯t say I¡¯m sympathetic to him, after he tried to drown me.¡±


    ¡°You will see for yourself at the feast.¡±


    Cora was so tired she thought she would never arrive. And when she got there, she still had to be a servant! At least she was able to rest for a while on the ferrywhich carried them to the base of the marble stair.


    It wasn¡¯t a feast like Cora imagined it though. Sure, there was the music, and the bonfires roaring. The ground trembled beneath the dancing Gods. It was a party no doubt, but there was no food, or anything for her to sink her teeth into. Instead, a fountain flowed with rich orange mist. It poured from the mouths of marble statues, depicting fearsome beasts, or leering titans and ogres. The ambrosia pooled in stone basins where the Gods dipped chalices into. Each God brought their own chalice, unique and masterful in its craftsmanship. But the nymphs were allowed to drink too. Cora followed the guide of Meliae as they dipped into the stone basin and drank Ambrosia with their hands.


    Ambrosia more satisfying than any corporeal food. It wasn¡¯t liquid, or solid exactly, but more like drinking a dense cloud. It was soft and delicate, and melted in your mouth, only to expand within you and fill you with the most incredible intoxicating warmth.


    Cora wiped her mouth, though nothing was there. Then turning in shock, she found herself facing the giant horns of a golden bull. It began to charge, and she dove aside to cower on the other side of the fountain. She would have been trampled a moment later if she¡¯d stayed. The bull ran straight into the stone basin, leaping to splash. It rolled to bathe itself, sending up a massive plume of fragrance like a bomb. The Ambrosia floated softly through the air, only to break up into clouds which rained and dribbled the heavenly orange drink back to earth. If earth they still remained at all, with such wonders all around.


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    ¡°Careful now,¡± Meliae sang in Cora¡¯s ear.


    ¡°Where did a bull come from? Who invites a bull to a party?¡± Cora asked in shock.


    ¡°It came from Apollo. It was his gift to his father, the fruit of their last competition. Each God was given the task to create the most powerful animal, as befitting a gift for all powerful Zeus. To give falsity or weakness would be an insult to the King. Apollo has given his creation the strength of the sun.¡±


    The creature was glorious to behold. Its fur shed the ambrosia which flowed as beams of light.


    ¡°Did Poseidon create one as well?¡± Cora asked.


    ¡°Yes, but you will see how he cheated.¡±


    There it came now, announced not by roar or challenge, but a slow heavy pounding of the earth. Poseidon¡¯s champion was made of steel and brass plates, a metal machine which plodded relentlessly through the parting Gods. Steam hissed and leaked from the joints in its legs, and its eyes were burning embers.


    ¡°Poseidon didn¡¯t make a real bull at all,¡± Meliae said. ¡°Instead, he asked Hephaestus, smith of the Gods, to make a metal thing for him. Apollo was so angry at this mockery of life, and at his brother for not making his own champion, that they had a great fight last night.¡±


    ¡°I know. I was there,¡± Cora said. ¡°If Apollo hadn¡¯t saved me, he probably would have gone on to destroy Poseidon¡¯s mechanical bull. No wonder he was angry.¡±


    Even these wonders were still not as glorious as the Gods themselves. Cora could only laugh at herself again for thinking herself in love so easily. Every God was glorious and powerful. Every Goddess was an impossible aspiration, a walking dream. With what crude brush has man been formed, to live in such false imitation of the perfection of Gods.


    Apollo was just one like all the rest. And she would not be fooled again. Those were the words in Cora¡¯s mind as she turned away from the ambrosia fountain. Those words lost their meaning when she suddenly found herself facing prince Apollo once more. No longer dressed down for battle, he wore a red cloak which the setting sun must envy. Gleaming metal armor in overlapping plates, secured by leather, ready for war. Upon his soft hair rested a crown of golden laurel leaves. In his hand he held a walking staff as tall as he, which appeared to be carved from a single long bone. Which animal could possess such a bone, Cora could not imagine. Apollo looked so noble, and so proud, and so distant. He could not hide the light in his eyes when he saw her.


    Looking at him was not like looking at the other Gods, as she suspected. For he alone saw her. The moment was fleeting though, and Apollo swiftly moved past her to the fountain.


    ¡°Out of my way, nymph!¡± Apollo bellowed. Cora flinched at the sound. His words weren¡¯t for her, but they were to her.


    Cora bowed low and stepped aside. Apollo moved past her without looking again to fill his silver chalice with ambrosia. Then raising it above his head, he assaulted the night with a wild roar which frightened Cora. It was a challenge, made as though by a wild boar.


    ¡°Your fishes are waiting for you, Poseidon!¡± Apollo shouts. ¡°You will admit you cheated the last challenge, and you will leave the tournament tonight!¡±


    The other gods and nymphs and strange creatures howled with delight. Others jeered and laughed. The music played louder, the fire roared higher. Apollo stole a glance at Cora, but she didn¡¯t look at him. Of course he must conceal his feelings, but couldn¡¯t he at least treat her with respect? If he wanted to talk to her, then she was right here. Could he not even spare a smile in her direction?


    But Apollo did not pay her any more mind. Taking his silver chalice with both hands, he drank deeply. Other Gods came to him that Cora did not recognize. He laughed with them, and they clapped him on the back. He would act no different if she was gone. Cora didn¡¯t want to be angry. She didn¡¯t want to want anything at all, but there her Apollo stood so close, but more distant than the Gods had ever been. His words were not for her, his glance was not for her. His joy was not hers. And yet she was fool enough to think his heart might be.


    Then Cora spotted Apollo¡¯s bone walking stick. It rested on the side of the fountain while Apollo was busy laughing and boasting with the other Gods. She didn¡¯t know what the worth of his word was in that moment. But she knew the worth of her own. She made a promise to the nymphs, and her anger bound her to it.


    Cora discretely stepped in front of the walking stick. Apollo did not notice. His back was turned to her. Cora snatched the stick, wrapping it in her skirt to conceal as much of it as she could. A hobbling run, she dashes from the fountain to follow the other nymphs. Each of them seemed to know which God to serve and how, doting on them with ambrosia, and music, and dance. She found the other nymphs gathering at the edge of the large crowd around the two bulls.


    A ripple of wind went through the nymphs at the edge. ¡°Zeus is here. He will speak!¡±


    ¡°First we gather to drink, and to celebrate our glory!¡± Zeus¡¯ words were thunder, physical percussions against Cora¡¯s ears. She couldn¡¯t get a good look through all the people.


    ¡°Second, we will let the bulls test their strength. We will see which of my son¡¯s brings me the greater gift.¡±


    The music was growing louder and more frenzied. Cora was starting to feel a little strange, a buzz in her mind and body. What was the ambrosia doing to her? She didn¡¯t try to look at Zeus, and instead kept her head low, hurrying along behind the crowd with her awkward burden. Soon she found Meliae and Oreads together.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it. Apollo¡¯s stick, like I said I would.¡± Cora unwrapped the stick from her skirt and gave it to the nymphs. Her green eyes flashed, her red leaves smiled. Other nymphs were gathering swiftly, all pressing around to conceal their prize. It seemed as though a forest was growing around them. The music even seemed to fade.


    ¡°Third and chiefly, the reason we are here tonight,¡± Zeus bellows. ¡°Is for Apollo and Poseidon to test their own courage in battle. I will now reveal that I am going away on a long journey, and that one of them will sit as King of Olympus. The winner of the challenges tonight is worthy to sit on my throne, wield lighting as though it were my hand. And the loser shall be his servant until I return.¡±


    The nymph Oreads took the stick from Meliae. She kissed it, rubbing it against her face. Cora felt embarrassed by this. She wished the nymphs did not love Apollo as she did, her feeling cheapened by being so common.


    Before her eyes, the bone walking stick transformed into a brilliant sword. The handle remained bone, while the blade gleamed as stars forged into a deadly edge.


    ¡°It won¡¯t be easy for Apollo to win the tournament without his sword,¡± Meliae mused. ¡°Don¡¯t you think Poseidon would want us to give it to him?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to take his sword!¡± Cora was horrified. ¡°You have to give it back!¡±


    But the nymphs only laughed, dry leaves promising the chill of winter.


    ¡°We will keep Apollo¡¯s sword. Soon Poseidon will be King of the Gods. We would rather have his favor. If you are going to be a nymph, then you should know how it¡¯s done. We do what we must to survive,¡± Oreads said.


    Cora kept her word, and lost everything else. How could she allow herself to be angry and betray Apollo over nothing? If she destroys his chance for the throne, how will he ever forgive her?

 CH 6: A New King

    The ambrosia must be more intoxicating than Cora realized. The crowd of Gods and beasts grew frenzied now. The music lost its pleasant harmony and ravaged an infernal rhythm. The bonfire in the great court yard roared with a spirit of its own. More than one threw their head back to howl wild at the sky, unearthly and savage what echoes through the jagged peaks.


    Cora was reminded again how much she did not belong. The appetites of the Gods were strange to her, but there was no mistaking the blood they tasted in the air.


    "You have to give Apollo''s sword back!" Cora tried to snatch at it, but it was gone. Overgrown and engulfed within the vines and bark of the pressing nymphs. They giggled and cheered, turning their backs to block Cora away.


    Some strained their long sapling necks to the sky to join the battle hymn.


    "Let the final competition begin!" Zeus cried.


    The crowd began to part. Cora felt dizzy, and wasn''t sure where they were going. The nymphs all hurried one way, and Cora would have followed if the golden bull hadn''t returned to block her path. Snorting, pawing the ground, Cora could only flee the other way. A large clearing formed in the middle of the crowd.


    When the dust had settled, Cora was startled to see a bull head in front of her once more. Not one of the champions though -- there was a minotaur sitting cross legged on the ground before her. Its mighty hooves were drawn underneath, and was almost as tall as Cora, even while sitting. It took Cora awhile longer to maneuver around the creature and get a view.


    Once Cora could maneuver to see through the horns, the battle had already begun.


    Apollo rode the golden bull without saddle. His bronze armor shone, his helmet low over his eyes. Apollo reached to a golden clasp at his neck to release his red robe. It flew through the air towards Cora on wings of its own. The robe gracefully folded at the edge of the arena. Without thinking, Cora rushed into the clearing to snatch it, and pull it back to safety behind the sitting minotaur. The great snorting head turned to look at her, but Cora glared straight back until it turned away. The red cloth was velvet, with trim of real gold. No one tried to stop her, but when she turned around again, she saw Poseidon looking in her direction.


    The ground shook as the mechanical bull plodded and pounded the rock to sand. Poseidon rode opposite Apollo, his own trident leveled and ready to charge. He wore colorful armor of coral, with a great spiral shell shield in his opposite hand. His hair and beard were long and dreaded green, seeming intertwined with sea weed.


    "Let this battle be the end of it then," Hera declared.


    At the far end of the clearing, Queen Hera sat on a throne made of rough hewn purple amethyst. Beside her must be Zeus. He stood with his hands clasped together, wringing them eagerly, lightning sparking between them in his excitement. He had a long white beard, but was strong and youthful as his sons. Most surprising of all was seeing Zeus''s clothing: no royal robes or bronze armor, but the jagged lightning letters of a metal band Cora didn''t recognize. He wore cargo shorts and sandals. If Cora had to guess, Tommy Bahamas brand.


    Cora could only shake her head and wonder. Fragile mortal thing, there was nothing she could do to stop the tremendous stampede. The two bulls flung themselves into each other and locked horns. Zeus clapped and cheered, and cheering with him the sky filled with lightning at the clash.


    Apollo''s spear was fast and sure. The shell shield was indomitable, rolling the point without harm.


    Across the battlefield, Cora spotted the nymphs laughing and cheering along.


    "He cheated!" Cora yelled, pointing at the bull. "Hephaestus made the bull, not Poseidon!"


    No one heard, no one cared. The spear thrust a flurry, and was deflected again. But it was enough to knock Poseidon a little loose on his perch. Apollo reversed grip and let the spear fly, burying it in the shoulder blade of the metal bull. The gears locked around the spear. The shaft shattered, the joint locked. Poseidon was thrown to the ground as the creature collapsed. He rolled sprawling. The crowd cheered. Lightning lit world.


    "Where is your sword, Apollo?" Poseidon taunted.


    Apollo circled on his golden bull, giving his brother time to rise to his feet and retrieve his weapons.


    "Where is your bull, Poseidon?"


    The golden beast lowered its horns and charged. Apollo bent low, unarmed but clinging on. He looked ready to trample Poseidon. Trident braced into the ground. Crouched low, Poseidon roared as he met the charge. The trident pierced straight through the neck of the golden bull. Cora gasped in horror, only to see the creature dissipate in soft golden light. It was never alive at all, but for the grace of the sun god. Poseidon''s trident was at Apollo''s neck before he could rise. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Do you concede the challenge?" the sea God asked.


    Apollo hung his head, but said nothing.


    The crowd was silent, holding breath with anticipation. Cora was devasted. She couldn''t undo what was done so quickly in anger. She couldn''t turn the battle. But neither could she allow Apollo to lose because of her.


    "Poseidon cheated!" Cora shouted again. She waved the red cloak, catching Zeus''s attention this time now that the arena was subdued.


    "He didn''t make his own bull. Hephaestus the smith built it for him." Cora felt all the eyes on her, but she couldn''t stop now. "That''s cheating, and he should be disqualified."


    The crowd upheaving, rage and laughter.


    Zeus raised his hand, and thunder quelled them all.


    "The King of the Gods should be resourceful. It was not the bull which made Poseidon win, but his power of combat."


    Apollo still wouldn''t rise. Why wouldn''t he acknowledge her? Couldn''t he see she was doing this for him?"


    "He cheated twice! Once with the bull, again by him planning to steal Apollo''s sword before the fight."


    The crowd would not be silent now, even with the thundering warning.


    Poseidon looked furious.


    "I recognize you now," he said. "You''re the mortal Apollo saved from my ocean last night. If I break the rules, then what of Apollo, who brought his mortal lover where she is forbidden?"


    "A mortal!" Hera was outraged.


    "Stealing his sword as well?" Zeus cried. "Now that is a dirty trick. How do you know?"


    "I know because I stole it," Cora announced. Her face was hot and flushed. She felt like a witch being tied to the stake. Her mortal secret was already out though, she had nothing left to fear.


    "The nymphs tricked me into stealing," Cora clarified. "And they said they were working with Poseidon for his favor when he won. How will anyone look up to Poseidon as King of the Gods, when he was too afraid to fight on even terms?"


    "Only Poseidon has not shown divided loyalties," Hera screeches. "Prove you choose the Gods over the mortals. Kill the girl, and I shall declare you victor."


    "What about a white stag?" Cora asked meekly. Her face went from hot to cold in an instant. She felt herself become ashen pale.


    "Gladly," Poseidon said with an evil grin. "No one escapes from Poseidon twice. The tide always comes again."


    Cora let the red robe drop helplessly from her numb fingers. Poseidon hoisted his trident. He flung it threw the air. Glittering gold in the sun, but how could the sun bless the shadow of death it promised? How could her sun God go dark before ever there was dawn?


    The glittering trident shone in the sun one moment. It was the sun the next. An incandescent light burst forth, such radiance to blind Cora. She fell to her knees and clutched at the red robe once more to shield her eyes from the light. As soon as it had come, it was gone. Uncovering her eyes once more, she saw Apollo standing beside her, once more his eyes only for her.


    In his chest the trident was buried. His bronze breastplate was ripped like paper, and light bled from his wound to color the air and leave sunspots in Cora''s eyes. He had taken the killing blow for her.


    "The winner of the competition is clear!" Poseidon howled. The crowd lit the air with fireworks of sound.


    "Apollo!" The god was falling to his knees. Cora rushed to catch him and ease him to the ground. "I''m so sorry, Apollo! This is all my fault! I told you I always make a mess of things, don''t I?"


    Apollo tried to speak, but only light poured from his mouth. His body shook.


    "You''re immortal. You aren''t going to die. I''m going to take care of you," Cora promised. Even as she said this, the sky seemed to be growing darker. As if the sun had passed behind a cloud, the light was draining from the world.


    "Someone help him!" Cora shouted desperately. "Meliea, Oreads, help us!"


    But no one would risk angering the rival of the new King of the Gods. One by one they bowed to Poseidon, and left Cora with Apollo shining in her arms.


    "Next we see each other..." Apollo''s words were wisps of their former strength. "You will not recognize me."


    "Don''t go! Don''t go... don''t go."


    "Poseidon will not find you. Hera will not find you. I have seen how this story ends. Go with the nymphs, they will lead you to safety."


    "I could never trust them again. Zeus! Hera! Do something! He is your son!" Cora pleaded. But they too were congratulating Poseidon.


    Apollo was growing lighter in Cora''s arms. His skin was becoming less solid, his heat and light all but gone. Cora bent over him and pressed her forehead to his. She had to feel his skin against hers, while there was still something left to feel. And then leaning in to kiss his glowing lips, but feeling only cool mist. Reflections and echoes, a distant melody of lyre, but he was nowhere she could find.


    "I will only love you," Cora promised. The red cloak she still clutched in trembling hands.


    "Do not worry yourself, dear," Oreads appeared at last. She rested a graceful branchy limb onto Cora''s shoulder. She shrugged it away angrily.


    "Don''t you dare touch me. This is your fault."


    "Apollo sees the future, and knows what even the wise do not," the nymph said. "Nothing has happened but what is meant to be. Apollo has seen this too, and you can take comfort knowing it is part of his plan."


    "How?" Cora wouldn''t cry. She wouldn''t feel anything at all if she could help it.


    "Hurry now, before Hera catches you. We will show you the secret ways."


    Oreads picked up an end of the red cloak. Cora tried to pull it away from her. Her bottom lip pressed up in a stubborn scowl.


    "You will not! It''s all I have left."


    "If you won''t trust me, then trust him!"


    Cora let the red robe go slack. She wouldn''t let go of her corner though, not for the world.


    Oreads took the rest of the robe and swung it around them both. It seemed to grow as it did, wrapping around them both. Then billowing into the air around them, it became the size of a tent. Then collapsing once more, it wrapped around them as snugly as a blanket.


    "Where is the mortal?" Hera shrieked. It sounded like it was coming from a long way off, and far above.


    Oreads rose a thorny branch to her lips and hushed Cora. They really were inside a flower, hidden in the garden where the Gods still roamed. The red velvet was even softer now that it was the petals of a curling rose.

 CH 7: No Going Back

    Cora wanted to scream. She wanted to cry and throw a fit. But of course Hera and the other Gods would hear. Part of her didn¡¯t care, and willed her own destruction.


    ¡°He¡¯s not dead. God¡¯s don¡¯t die!¡± she whispered hoarsely.


    Oreads hushed her again. Of course she was being reckless, but it needed to be said out loud. She had to convince herself. Apollo¡¯s death in her arms had felt too real.


    ¡°It must have been a trick,¡± Cora whispered anyway. ¡°He pretended to die to get away.¡±


    ¡°Where is the mortal?¡± Hera shrieked from a long ways off. ¡°Where are the nymphs who lied to me?¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t stay here,¡± Oreads whispered back. ¡°There is no one left to protect you. If their eyes don¡¯t find us hidden among the flowers, then their trampling feet will. Hold onto the petals, and don¡¯t let go when we start.¡±


    ¡°When we start? We can''t go anywhere! I have to find out what happened to ¡ª¡±


    It was not open to debate, and Cora had no say. Oreads the nymph was chanting under her breath, rhythmic and urgent. And then they were off: a sudden gust of breeze lifting the flower with them inside. Cora clung onto the soft petals with both hands. She was still pitched wildly from side to side as the flower danced through the wind. She tried to pull herself upright enough to get a view of the maelstrom of shouting Gods. Their already distant voices was swiftly swallowed up by the rising winds.


    ¡°Are you listening!" Cora shouted now, no longer afraid of being heard. "I¡¯m not going, put me down!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re both going, thank you very much,¡± Oreads scolded sternly. ¡°This is the last time I try to help a mortal. I thought when we agreed to keep your secret, you would be mindful of your own safety. Now that you broke our deal, nothing will keep us safe from Hera within her own domain. Not even if all the other Gods were on our side, which they are not.¡±


    Cora almost had her footing again before another swell of wind pitched them higher. She lost her grip entirely and slid on the smooth red surface. Cora could only hold onto the pink and yellow inner petals of the oleander. A shower of pollen dust the size of baseballs pummeled down on her as she grabbed hold. The petals were closed above them to form a protective room within the bud, but the wind still whistled between the petals. She was helpless, alone, lost upon the wind. There was no praying to any Gods who would listen. There was clearly nothing she could do without Oreads help. Part of Cora was grateful of course, but it was buried under a soggy mountain of resentment.


    ¡°Where are you taking me?¡± Cora asked suspiciously.


    ¡°Where you belong, mortal.¡±


    ¡°I belong with Apollo.¡±


    Oreads snickered. Cora could feel herself flushing with anger. She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying something truly nasty. That last bit of prudence might have saved her life, dancing upon the winds as she was. Oreads leaned this way and that, apparently steering the flower with the grip of her branchy fingers. When the Nymph saw that Cora was not responding, Oreads continued:


    ¡°An immortal God will not grow old. They will not grow sick. They will survive injuries that would be fatal to mortals. I do not know how they are slain, but if anything could do it, then perhaps it would be Poseidon¡¯s own trident. It was not made to spear fish, but to overcome the deepest monsters of the ocean abyss. Could a God survive what such beasts could not? I do not know.¡±


    ¡°Poseidon wouldn¡¯t really kill his brother.¡±


    ¡°How do you know? After a hundred years of this competition, I¡¯m surprised it hasn¡¯t happened sooner.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that. Apollo is alive.¡±


    ¡°You are alive, little one.¡± Oreads¡¯ voice had more compassion now. ¡°The Gods never were, not like you are. Do not worry your head or your heart over them. You belong with your own people.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t go! Put me back down in the garden somewhere. I¡¯ll hide from Hera on my own,¡± Cora replied stubbornly. ¡°I won¡¯t go live with my aunt and forget. How could you even ask me to live a normal life now, after what I¡¯ve seen? How could I ever be happy going to a university which knows nothing about the secrets of the world? How could I ever love a normal man, now that I have seen his grace? I would wilt and die without the Gods. Please don¡¯t take me back, Oreads.¡±


    The nymph sighed. She leaned her branches the other way, the flower shifting in the wind. Cora peeked through the crack between the petals. With her being small enough to fit in a flower, the jagged stone mountains were huge beyond imagining. She couldn¡¯t make any sense of where they were, except that they were headed down.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°You¡¯re leaving the garden,¡± Cora noted.


    ¡°As I told you, to serve the Gods is to choose sides. I have sided with Poseidon over Apollo, and that was correct, because Poseidon won. I sided with a mortal over Hera, and that was a foolish thing to do. Still, I feel pity for you, helplessly caught in a such spells. If you will not return to the mortals, then there¡¯s only one God who will show you mercy now. We cannot stay in Olympus where Hera still dwells. We must serve Poseidon, the new King of the Gods, until Zeus returns.¡±


    ¡°What, do you mean under the sea? Absolutely not.¡±


    ¡°You have too many opinions for a girl without options.¡±


    ¡°I will not serve the God who killed ¡ª who hurt Apollo! I will not serve the God who tried to drown me!¡±


    ¡°One does not hold grudges against the Gods,¡± Oreads scolds. ¡°One serves, for as long as their favor allows. This world is theirs, even when you do not see them. Poseidon will welcome you after his victory. Is there anyone else in the world of which you can say the same?¡±


    Cora considered this. She couldn¡¯t go back to her father, not after he¡¯d sent her away. She couldn¡¯t go back to Konstantin after how she¡¯d been hurt. She wouldn¡¯t be with her aunt, or with Hera. There really was no one else in the world she could turn to. It was a sobering thought.


    ¡°What would Poseidon want form us? Are you going to become a seaweed nymph?¡±


    ¡°As the Gods will, so I will be. So you will be too, even if you have not yet accepted it.¡±


    Cora bowed her head in defeat. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ve made such a mess of things already. I understand why you stole Apollo¡¯s sword, and do not blame you. Thank you for helping me.¡±


    ¡°It is the way of mortals to make a mess of things,¡± Oreads cooed, her voice betraying her sympathy. ¡°Gods cannot create perfect things, and man is the proof. But only mortals can find beauty in imperfection, and for that they are more blessed than Gods. You will do well to mind your tongue in Poseidon¡¯s palace.¡±


    Cora could only laugh helplessly. There was resolve in her again though.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be his servant. I¡¯m going to be a spy.¡±


    ¡°A spy, little one?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to find out what really happened to Apollo. And I¡¯m going to bring him back. Then they¡¯ll probably have a fight or something, and Apollo will be the true King.¡±


    ¡°And I suppose he¡¯ll be so grateful to you that he makes you queen?¡±


    ¡°No, of course not.¡±


    Oreads laughed.


    ¡°Not because he¡¯s grateful," Cora continued. "He¡¯ll make me queen because he loves me.¡±


    Oreads laughed harder now.


    ¡°Oh Hera will love that. A mortal, queen of the Gods. Hold the petals tight now, won¡¯t you? We¡¯re going down.¡±


    ¡°Down? Do you mean...?¡± Cora peeked out again just in time to see the wall of water rushing at them. She squealed and pulled the petals shut again. Her desperate hands patted along the smooth surface, finding no way to seal them against the approaching water. The flower would be smashed to bits upon the surface. Or fill with salt water and drown them both. Or perhaps only her, the mortal who Oreads was trying to get rid of.


    Oreads only laughed as they pierced through the waves. Her branches ripped away the petals altogether, to now reveal the smooth white spirals of a seashell around them. It was almost like a little house. There were chairs carved into the side of the shell, and windows with some kind of protective film which allowed them to look out without letting the water in.


    ¡°You could have warned me!¡±


    Cora scrambled to the window at once. She couldn¡¯t stay mad. The underwater world was mesmerizing. A few flat faced red fish nibbled around the corner of the shell as it sank. It was so comfortable and warm in the shell, so unlike before when she was drowning. Cora closed her eyes and imagined Apollo sweeping them out of the water again. To take her shell and fling it into the air, as he did when they were on the beach together. How did she let that chance slip without doing more? She would drown again, if only he would save her. But now it was up to her to save him.


    The water around them was getting dark around the shell as it sank deeper. Apollo, God of the sun, his last touch a memory. There was no one waiting out there to protect her now. What would he think, if he knew she was going to serve in the house of his rival, the one who killed him? Would he ever forgive her? Could she ever forgive herself, for the role she had already played?


    Oreads began to mutter again. The shell lit up with an internal light which bled through the near-transparent white walls.


    ¡°My magic is at its end,¡± Oreads said. ¡°I cannot steer or propel us now. If I am correct, then our shell is directly above Poseidon¡¯s palace. It will still take some time to reach the ocean floor.¡±


    Looking out the window, the light of the shell faded swiftly in the pressing water. Strange shapes swam at the edge of their light, and glowing eyes followed them as they sank. Every so often one of the deep fish would make a dash for the shell. They would bump it and retreat, curious and afraid. Cora shivered despite the warmth.


    Was she making a huge mistake already? Letting herself be caught in a wave of emotions, that¡¯s how she got tangled up in this already. Maybe her aunt wasn¡¯t as bad as all that. Maybe a normal life could have its own, everyday sort of charm. But Cora was convinced now that she could not love again so easily. And how could she ever live even a normal life, without love to give magic to the mundane? Cora had never felt so alone.


    But Cora was not alone. A great gliding manta ray slid silently over the shell, sweeping back and forth to descend with them. When the other fish strayed too close, the manta ray would surge through the water and send them dashing away. Perhaps it was drawn by the light, perhaps it had a light of its own.


    Cora did not see the creature above them. But she felt that Apollo had not stopped watching her. Not in battle, when he dove before Poseidon¡¯s trident. Not after, when his soul shattered into fading light. Gods do not die easily, and even in death, their purpose carries on. Cora felt that Apollo was in the air which carried them safely from Olympus. He was in the light which glowed from the shell. And he was in the water somewhere, protecting her even now. She would not lose faith. She would not lose hope. Because to lose hope in him would be to lose hope for herself at every finding happiness again.


    ¡°Where is Zeus going, do you think? And how long will he be away for?¡±


    The manta ray swam closer, as though to listen.


    ¡°Long enough for a mortal life to ripen and rot. For the rest of your days, Poseidon will be King of the Gods.¡±


    The manta ray thrashed unseen in the dark water. It didn¡¯t like that at all.

 CH 8: The Harpies

    What secrets lie hidden beneath the waves in Poseidon¡¯s palace? Zeus¡¯ watchful eye peered through every cloud along the great expanse of his empire. But the light failed in the depths of those waters, and it was as much mystery to him as to the mortals. He was watching that night when Apollo saved Cora from the waves though. He chuckled to himself, thinking of Apollo always so high and mighty. But there he was, chasing the mortal girls, not so different than his father after all. Zeus showed no concern that one of his sons drove a trident through the other earlier that day.


    ¡°Where are the nymphs?¡± Zeus bellowed. ¡°There is packing to be done. I leave tonight.¡±


    The slow, stalking tap of high heels across the marble. The echo spread between the great columns of the palace of Olympus. Zeus knelt by a rushing stream of fresh water. The stream meandered its way through the marble as though naturally carving a path through the millennial. He splashed water on his face, raking his fingers through his thick white beard.


    Hera was the only one here. She only rose to the chest of Zeus, but you couldn¡¯t tell for how he cowered at her thunder.


    ¡°Where is he? Where is my son?¡± Hera screams at a normal volume, speaking but for the strain.


    ¡°Poseidon is going to his undersea palace. If he expects to sit as King of the Gods from there, I hope he keeps an eye on things above. To be honest, I wanted Apollo to win.¡±


    ¡°How can you act in such a way, thinking only of your horrid trip and your cold throne? I do not mean Poseidon. What has happened to Apollo?¡±


    Zeus shrugged and rose to his considerable height. ¡°Why should I be concerned about the one who lost?¡±


    ¡°You will not leave on your trip without telling me whether Apollo is alright.¡±


    ¡°Of course he is. The sun will sink many times into the sea, always to rise again.¡±


    ¡°Have you spoken to him? How do you know?¡±


    Zeus strode toward the side of the marble hall. Hera circled behind him like a vulture.


    ¡°Apollo sees things the rest of us do not. When he sets his mind on something, there¡¯s nothing that can keep it from him.¡±


    ¡°Such nonsense. He has fought in your games for a hundred years for the privilege to sit on that throne. But he gave it away with hardly a fight. Are you telling me he foresaw that end?¡±


    Zeus slapped open a oak wardrobe. He began flinging robes onto the floor. ¡°Nymphs! Where are my nymphs!¡±


    ¡°Do not ignore me, Zeus! You will be rid of me soon enough, but you must answer.¡±


    The King of the Gods chuckled, with an echo of a storm. ¡°I think Apollo knows what he wants. He just chose something else he wanted more than my crown.¡±


    ¡°Impossible. The sun demands glory. It wants nothing more.¡±


    ¡°Except for love, perhaps. Where are my javelins? It seems I will have to prepare on my own. Sometimes I wonder whether those nymphs really serve us, or something else entirely.¡±


    ¡°Do you mean Apollo gave up his chance to be King of the Gods for¡­ for the mortal?¡± Hera slammed the wardrobe shut, nearly taking one Zeus¡¯ fingers with it.


    Zeus shrugged and grinned. ¡°He probably didn¡¯t think you would allow it. Even if he was King.¡±


    ¡°Do you find humor in this tragedy, dear husband?¡± Hera growled. She began to pace in thought. Her long white robes whipped the air around her into little hurricanes by her feet. ¡°There is nothing funny about Apollo betraying his own kind, and shirking his responsibilities to chase a mortal. You are right, that he would have made a better King. He sees far more of the world than Poseidon, both now and what has yet to pass. You should not have kept the purpose of your journey secret from your sons. If Apollo knew how dangerous it was, then he would not have forsaken us.¡±


    ¡°Be easy on the boy. We do not know what future he sees.¡±


    ¡°Then blame him at least for losing your nymphs. They must be afraid of me, and are now taking in with the mortal. They are serving her no doubt, doting on her and calling her a Goddess. Filthy liars! I shelter them, and they stab me so!¡±


    ¡°Peace, Hera. Be a dear, and find me my javelins. The titan Cronus is difficult to reach without a good throw.¡±


    The clatter of heels on marble floors accelerated. Hera was pacing faster, lost in thought, wringing her hands together. ¡°I cannot let this pass. Not for my family¡¯s sake. I will get rid of the mortal girl, and remind Apollo why you do not love such broken things.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going too far? Let the boy have his fun. He will return when he¡¯s ready.¡±


    ¡°You mind your business, husband, and I will mind mine. Apollo is not so like you, to act on such impulses. It will all be part of a greater plan for him. He will not forgive his brother Poseidon, who he thought cheated to win. And mortals are never satisfied with their power, no matter how little they cling to. Do you not see where this will end?¡±


    ¡°I am not Apollo, I have no prophecies. Only instincts, which I trust.¡± Zeus was in a closet now. The dark space lit brilliantly with lightning as he searched.


    ¡°You do not need to see the future, but only the present clearly! Pay attention to know what will happen!¡± Hera scolded. ¡°Apollo will not follow Poseidon as King of the Gods. The first order he receives, he will rebel. The mortal will tell Apollo to take the throne for himself. There will be a war between the Gods before you return.¡±


    Zeus poked his head out of the closet. He stroked his beard thoughtfully. Then he nodded.


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t considered that. It is a real risk.¡±


    ¡°Then you will help find the mortal before you leave. Or you will worry your entire trip about the chaos you left behind at home.¡±


    Zeus shook his head. ¡°My quest is urgent, and there is no more time for delay.¡±


    ¡°Why is your quest always more urgent than mine?¡±


    The God¡¯s ponderous brow furrowed. ¡°Anyway if you harm the mortal, won¡¯t Apollo¡¯s anger fall on you, instead of Poseidon?¡±


    ¡°So what if he is angry at me? He will respect me. There is no war that will come of it.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure he will forgive you? You are not his mother.¡± Panic flashed across Zeus¡¯ face the moment he said it. The clatter of Hera¡¯s heels slowed to a dangerous prowl. She stalked toward Zeus, who scrambled away.


    ¡°Thank you for reminding me of your last visit with Leto, daughter of the titans. Will you be seeing her again on this trip?¡±


    Zeus shook his head violently.


    ¡°Are you asking me to trust you to stick to your business?¡± Hera asked sweetly. She ran a finger down Zeus¡¯ chest.


    Zeus nodded fervently.


    ¡°Then if you will not help, then you will at least trust me to attend to mine. You will find your javelins in the hunting lounge.¡±


    Zeus melted with relief. ¡°I will trust you, dear Hera. Do what you think is right. Just do not let there be war while I am gone.¡±


    Hera slid her fingers like claws through Zeus¡¯ hair. She pulled him down to her and kissed him firmly. Zeus wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She was completely swallowed up in his embrace, so small yet so fierce.


    ¡°I will miss you. I will be with you. I will watch you. Wherever you go,¡± Hera whispered in his ear. ¡°You will always return to me.¡±


    ¡°You will always be my Queen.¡±


    That night Hera stood on the edge of the marble cliff. She watched Zeus below in the distance as he steadied his canoe in the water. No nymphs or servants would accompany him. A spark of his eyes as he looked up through the darkness at her. Then he pushed away, drifting into the lake that surrounded mount Olympus. As he sailed smoothly through the water, the clouds bled down from the sky to swirl around him. Soon the clouds were on the water, beneath the boat, gently lifting him into the sky.


    Watching his nobility and confidence in his lonely quest made Hera smile. It did not matter who was sitting on the throne of Olympus. She would always be the Queen, always in charge. Poseidon was likely to stay in his under water realm, leaving Olympus to her. She would need to find new servants, now that the nymphs have abandoned her.


    Hera waited until Zeus was completely out of sight. Then standing on the cliff edge, she began to sing. The language was strange, the melody haunting. Dark shapes perched hidden along the golden domes of Olympus. Shadows stirred the night to life. One by one, they dropped off the edge and spread wide leathery wings. Red eyes glimmered as they circle overhead.


    ¡°Have I not been good to Apollo?¡± Hera calls to them. ¡°From the line of titans, his ways are not ours. But my harpies will know how to find him. Daughters of titans themselves, of Iapetus and Clymene. You know how to hunt, don¡¯t you pretties?¡±


    Serpentine tails lashed the air. The harpies circled and lowered. One or two made short dives, raking their talons forward as though to slash at Hera. But she would not flinch. She only looked their way, and they would veer aside and circle again.


    ¡°I have entertained my husband¡¯s lovers for long enough. I have tried to be patient with his sons. Even catching once Apollo before, I allowed his mortal plaything to live on as a beautiful stag. I was too kind to them, my winged ones. They have not suffered as you have suffered.¡±


    The harpies screeched. The chorus to an infernal song, harsh and discordant. Hera trembled straight down to her spine, although of course she didn¡¯t show it. The harpies can smell fear. It made her smile, knowing that the song which shook her could also rip mortal minds to ruin.


    ¡°You will find the mortal girl Cora. The nymphs have run and hidden her somewhere.¡±


    Hera then pulled a great red cloak from the shadows. It was stained with blood, and torn where Poseidon¡¯s trident punctured through. Hera lifted the portion of bloody fabric to her lips, and kissed it. Then rising it into the air, she let the stained fabric swing back and forth as a beacon. The harpies swooped down at it with raking talons. The faces of the women emerged from the darkness, their beady red eyes and crunched features, their long curved noses like pointed beaks.


    ¡°Apollo might find her first. You will follow his smell. If you catch Apollo with the girl, then you will kill her. If you find her alone, you will return her to the mortal world. You will follow them over mountains, and oceans, to the bottom of the sea, if that¡¯s what it takes. You will not rest or sleep, but one of you will return each day to tell me what you found.¡±


    The harpies were working themselves into a frenzy. They made a few more dives at the cloth. Sharp talons dug into it, refusing to let go. One of the points pierced Hera¡¯s hand. Crying in shock, she released the cloth into the air. The harpies swarmed in now, a dozen at least. Needle teeth, taloned fingers, ripping and gnashing. The bloody cloak disintegrated in the air, ripped to shreds. Red scraps rained back down around Hera.


    ¡°That was not yours to destroy! Get off with you, stupid things!¡± Hera scolded.


    Shrieking, chittering in the same strange language of Hera¡¯s song, the harpies swooped away into the night. Hera gingerly stooped to pick up the shredded pieces of cloak. They were scattered all over the grass, concealed in the dark. But she took her time and collected every piece she could find. Whatever disagreements she may have with Apollo, he was still a God, and that deserved respect. And if he really was dead¡­


    Hera closed her fingers around the shredded fabric, her fist shaking.


    Well, Zeus wasn¡¯t here to protect the wretched mortals anymore.

 CH 9: Paradise Lost

    The descent was long, and Cora slept while the seashell drifted along the ocean tides. She didn¡¯t wake until they settled at last to rest on the ocean floor. It was too dark to see anything but a stretch of sand outside the windows now. The only light came from the shell itself. It was dark inside too, but Cora could still see Oreads change her shape before her eyes. The tree branches and leaves of the nymph were presently coral reefs. Vibrant waving purple sea anemones extended from her head to wave softly in place of hair.


    ¡°So that¡¯s it then. I¡¯m going to be a fish.¡± Cora sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can do it, Oreads. If I see Poseidon, how can I resist slapping him across his face? How can I serve the one who killed my love?¡±


    Oreads sighed too. It sounded like the waves pulling back to sea.


    ¡°If he was a man, then you might be right to hold your grudge. But we are not equal to the Gods. You will only harm yourself by thinking so.¡±


    Oreads poked her fingers through her new hair to pull out an orange starfish. Its legs curled in luxorious slow arcs as she passed it to Cora.


    ¡°You will need to put this over your face to breathe underwater. Go on, like a mask.¡±


    Cora sullenly snatched it, putting it up to her face without a second thought. She only realized after how ridiculous that was. The tender caress of the starfish snagged hold of her skin in stinging discomfort. The starfish mouth was right over her own nose and mouth! How was that supposed to help her breathe?


    Oreads only laughed as Cora flung the starfish away from her. ¡°Only kidding, dear. The palace has an enchantment that allows visitors to breathe quite easily. But if you have not learned this lesson yet, then it is good to remember also: You aren¡¯t the center of the world. Everyone who seems to be doing something for you has their own end in mind. Do not trust sweet words from man or God. But instead be patient, and be watchful, and learn the true heart of what each desires most. It is not enough to say ¡®love me, for I deserve to be loved¡¯. You must instead understand what each heart desires. Then you may choose whether to satisfy it or not, and that becomes your power.¡±


    ¡°What is it that you desire most, Oreads?¡±


    The nymph smiled sadly. ¡°The wise never say, because that is giving another power over you. But I am silly, and not wise, and my fickle mood changes with the season. So I will trust you as you have trusted me. I desire to be the Goddess of the moon, and watch over the sleeping world.¡±


    Cora giggled. ¡°That is silly. Isn¡¯t there a Goddess already? Selene, I think.¡±


    Nymph scowled fiercely. Her skin seemed to ripple with a current below. ¡°No more silly than asking the sun to love you. Go on then, get out. Into the water. If you don¡¯t trust me, then I¡¯ll even go first.¡±


    ¡°I do trust you though.¡± Cora intercepted Oreads on her way to the little door in the shell. She held onto the forearms of Oreads and looked her sincerely in the eye. She was right, she had only been thinking of herself. She thought the nymphs were as divine as far removed from herself as the Gods, but it wasn¡¯t so. They really were much more like her, stranded and helpless in someone else¡¯s world.


    Oreads pressed a tight smile and pulled away. She opened the door and flung her arms wide at the dramatic release. The dark water poured in a crashing wall. To her ankles, to her waist, to her neck, in less than a second. Then submerged completely, but not as an assault like the night before. The water was warm, and insubstantial like heavy air. Underneath, Cora could see easily even without even the sting of salt in her eyes. It even seemed brighter now that she was underwater.


    Cora followed Oreads outside the seashell.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t so bad! Maybe I should trust your advice after all. It all sounds reasonable, and if reason was enough to convince me, then I probably would have been home by now.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t much to be seen outside the light of the little shell house. The seashell was larger than the flower, but she was still not her proper size ever since hiding like ladybug inside the flower at Olympus. It was a conch shell of ivory white with swirling pinkish hues. A little cottage in a strange new world. How happy she could be living a simple life there. Why did she think she needed the Gods at all? Yet how could she really let go of Apollo and pass the years wondering what could have been?


    Oreads stopped short outside the shell. She froze, her hands straying behind her to feel for Cora who grasped them.


    ¡°If Apollo is really dead or gone, then why do I still feel him near me?¡± Cora asked distractedly.


    Oreads didn¡¯t respond. She looked up, and Cora followed her gaze. A massive dark shape passed over their heads. It must be twenty feet from side to side. The majestic manta ray felt like an spaceship flying low: so alien, yet so familiar. It would have been large if she were normal size, but as small as she was, the manta ray seemed like the entire sky was rolling overhead. It curved gracefully to arc back toward them. It danced through the water so beautifully Cora didn¡¯t even consider being afraid. She reached her hand above her to reach for it as it passed lower over their heads. Her finger ran down its cool rubbery skin that went on forever. The ends of its wings curled, gliding past in slow motion.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Apollo said ¡®I will always protect you¡¯. Isn¡¯t now a part of always too?¡± Cora asked in wonder. ¡°I feel him still watching me.¡±


    ¡°Your hopes will come to drown you if you do not let them go,¡± Oreads replied sternly. She fished within her purple hair once more to pull out small cloth pouch which glowed from inside. She opened it to pull out a handful of golden shining maggots. They squirmed and wriggled between her fingers.


    ¡°I would not put that in my hair!¡± Cora said in shock.


    Oreads ignored her and released the glowing things into the water. They began to slowly sink toward the sand. The water churned before they landed though. Dark fish as large as Cora swarmed in from every side. Oreads yanked on Cora¡¯s hand and pulled her back a few paces to the safety of the seashell house. The fish gobbled up the swimming maggots, prompting a stunning transformation. As soon as the golden worms were inside them, the fish themselves shimmered and turned to gold. Their scales were like polished mirrors, and soon the entire undersea world was lit with their swimming frenzy.


    ¡°Wonderful!¡± Cora marveled.


    Something screeched at the sudden light.


    ¡°Danger!¡± Oreads pointed urgently above them.


    Now that the water was lit, they could see the surrounding rocks which loomed above the seashell house. A monstrous vulture with the head of a woman perched above them. But she was so much larger she seemed a mountain to herself. Her head was thrown back, and the terrible sound was coming from her. Then snapping her neck down, the harpy launched herself through the water. The sleek black leathery wings without feathers propelled it toward them with powerful strokes.


    ¡°Back inside the shell!¡± Oreads shouted. There was no other escape. They dove back inside and slammed the door shut. An instant later and the entire house was snatched and launched away. The floor swung wildly below them, worse than her ship in the storm. If Apollo was really there, he would reveal himself. He wouldn¡¯t let her be taken.


    ¡°It¡¯s one of Hera¡¯s harpies! How could she?!¡± Oreads wailed. ¡°Zeus always forbid her to use those vile servants. Is he gone already?¡±


    Oreads seemed to root herself to the wall as coral might cling to the rocks. Cora had to hold onto the nymph for dear life as the seashell swung wildy the other way. Then back again ¡ª the Harpy must be zigzagging in its escape.


    Cora pulled herself hand over hand along the grooves in the shell wall. She made her way to the window, bracing herself each time the seashell swung back the other way. Outside the glowing fish lit up the giant manta ray which soared towards them. But the Harpy was quick to turn, and the manta ray was so slow. At each turn it was falling farther behind.


    ¡°You have to do something! Use your magic to help the manta ray!¡±


    ¡°I will not cross the harpy!¡± Oreads insisted. ¡°They are evil creatures who could only be free with Hera¡¯s blessing. The harpies would delight in any excuse to crush the seashell in their talons with us inside.¡±


    ¡°Silence prisoners!¡± the harpy shrieked with a voice like the harsh warning of a bird.


    On cue the pressure tightened around the shell. The walls began to crack in places. Cora pressed her face to the film covering the window. She couldn¡¯t even see the manta ray anymore. But it could be anywhere in the water. It could even be above them, waiting to ambush the harpy before it escaped. It would save her, because Apollo was protecting her still, and nothing could ever be wrong.


    They burst through surface of the water and soared into the air. And with that explosion vanished Cora¡¯s hope. The manta ray was left far behind, and no one would save them now. Oreads was right. Holding hope too long was a painful thing.


    Exhausted and defeated, Cora collapsed into the bedding at the corner of the shell. She rocked back and forth and closed her eyes, imaging herself back on her father¡¯s ship. Always a prisoner of circumstance beyond her control. Wasn¡¯t it better to live an ordinary life where she was at least in charge?


    ¡°Where do you think it¡¯s taking us?¡± Cora asked at last.


    Oreads only shrugged and sighed. Her undersea appearance was fading already. Her purple hair relaxed back into twigs and leaves, her skin returning to its barky texture.


    The harpy was much swifter than her previous forms of transportation. It wasn¡¯t long at all before they came to a rough halt. The shell rocked back and forth where it had been dropped, then settled.


    Cora flung the door open at once. She was ready for a fight. She didn¡¯t care what was on the other side. She was going to get past it, and get away. Cora ducked and dodged out the door, ready for those talons to come raking down at her. But she was even more surprised to see an ordinary backyard with a crab apple tree out front. And a very ordinary looking suburban house, quite the right size again. But how could that be when she was so small¡­ Cora turned back to see the seashell house was still only a sea shell, about five inches across. She picked it up and looked through the door. She couldn¡¯t see very far inside, and didn¡¯t see Oreads at all.


    ¡°Cora?¡± a tense, anxious voice. A woman¡¯s voice. The harpy couldn¡¯t be making that sound, could she?


    There was no monster so foul as her mood. But Cora wasn¡¯t prepared for this.


    ¡°Aunt Zoe?¡±


    A woman in her early sixties with streaked black hair. She looked like she just woke up, even though it was now afternoon. Her hair was much like a bird nest after a hurricane, her face tired and sour. She stood in the front door of her house, fiddling with the tie of her bathrobe, staring in disbelief.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you for a few more days.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Me neither.¡± Cora coughed. She became suddenly self conscious of her ripped dress, still stained with Apollo¡¯s blood. ¡°There was a storm,¡± she began, but stopped. How could she even begin to explain what had happened to her? How could she understand herself?


    ¡°It must have been quite a storm to save you a few days. What a mess you are, are you alright?¡±


    Cora looked around her on the quiet residential street. There was no harpy in the sky. The sun was just the sun, and not a God. The wind was just the wind, and not the sighing of the nymphs. A car was honking in the distance. Cora looked at the seashell still in her hands. At the little windows and door in the side. It was all she had left of her magical journey.


    Aunt Zoe didn¡¯t wait for Cora to reply. ¡°Couldn¡¯t you have called to let me know you were coming early? Does your father know about this? That¡¯s very rude of you, you know. I am already doing so much looking after you. This isn¡¯t going to be a vacation, you know. You¡¯re really going to get a job. You¡¯re going to work hard around the house. You¡¯re going to turn your life around here.¡±


    Cora smiled. ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°Yes, I think I will.¡±

 CH 10: Aunt Zoe

    There¡¯s more magic to be found in a normal life than Cora gave credit. For all her adventures, she forgot how wonderful it was to have a hot bath and sleep in a real bed in Aunt Zoe¡¯s house. She didn¡¯t have to worry about what was watching her, or being turned into a stag, or drowned in the sea, or something even more horrible. The sweet ambrosia might be effervescent and divine, but it couldn¡¯t match a stack of pancakes for reviving her. She now wore the clean blue dress that Aunt Zoe left for her, although it was too short for her comfort. Or at least, for that¡¯s how she would have felt last week. Now she didn¡¯t think much of anything could bother her.


    Cora munched and stuffed the pancakes in her face at the kitchen table while Zoe sat impatiently across from her. Cora was exhausted and ready to collapse even before the sun set. In truth, she didn¡¯t want to see it set ever again, knowing the hopes within her must set with it.


    Aunt Zoe wasn¡¯t happy. Cora didn¡¯t know why. She just hoped she could finish eating before she found out. Glancing up at her aunt, the woman clutched a cellphone in her hand.


    ¡°An ungrateful girl. You know that, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Hmpph.¡± Cora was as stubbornly obtuse as her mouthful of pancake. ¡°Who is?¡±


    ¡°Not everyone is so lucky to have a family taking care of them. I see your father was too soft with. A spoiled girl becomes a brat, I always said.¡±


    ¡°What did he tell you exactly about why I¡¯m here?¡±


    Aunt Zoe¡¯s eyebrows, which must have been penciled in, performed some light yoga.


    ¡°He said you had loose morals.¡±


    ¡°I do not.¡±


    Zoe gave a wicked smirk as she worked her mouth in silent motion before speaking. She was really enjoying this.


    ¡°He did too. He said you didn¡¯t take your classes seriously, and you didn¡¯t want to work. You would rather be chased by boys. You don¡¯t realize how hard your father struggled to give you opportunities in life. And what have you done with them?¡±


    Cora steamed. ¡°I¡¯ve done more already than you will in a hundred lives.¡±


    Zoe¡¯s smirk faltered, with a swift revival. She handed Cora the phone. They glared at each other with fresh intensity. But Cora had stared down Hera in her own palace and wouldn¡¯t surrender to this old hag.


    ¡°Call your father this instant.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because I have loose morals.¡± Cora stuck out her tongue. ¡°I mean, isn¡¯t it obvious? He practically kidnapped me! I didn¡¯t choose to come here! He wasn¡¯t trying to save me. He was trying to get rid of me. And it worked, because I¡¯m not ever going back to Athens. I¡¯ve seen better palaces now.¡±


    ¡°What nonsense is this? It is not how you will behave as long as you live here. You will treat me with respect. You will say ¡®Yes Aunt Zoe¡¯. ¡®I would be happy to, Aunt Zoe¡¯. You will do chores without being asked if they need to be done. There will be rules. And curfews ¡ª no later than 9 PM. There will be no boys allowed. And you will work.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Then I¡¯ll get a job, and I¡¯ll move out. You won¡¯t have to deal with me for long.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine with me.¡±


    They glared fiercely at one another. Zoe thrust the phone toward Cora again.


    She had enough of being an outsider. It was bad enough feeling that way among the Gods, but she couldn¡¯t do that with her own family too. Cora sighed.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m sorry. I appreciate you letting me stay here.¡± Cora took the phone and dialed her father. She didn¡¯t like Zoe watching and listening in, but she didn¡¯t want to make a fuss about getting up to leave now.


    ¡°Cora?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here, Dad. I¡¯m with Aunt Zoe.¡±


    A long silence. ¡°The ship hasn¡¯t arrived yet.¡±


    Aunt Zoe leaned in a little closer on her elbows. She didn¡¯t disguise listening in. Cora had forgotten all about arriving ahead of the ship. She didn¡¯t know what to say.


    ¡°I took a different one,¡± she stammered.


    ¡°What are you talking about? Freight 247. I saw you get on. I watched you leave. You didn¡¯t have a ticket for another one.¡±


    ¡°Um¡­ I met someone. He had a faster ship. A yacht, actually,¡± Cora lied. ¡°He¡¯s kind of like a prince. But don¡¯t worry, he¡¯s gone now. Nothing happened between us. It was just a pleasant dream.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    She could feel her father fuming through the line.


    ¡°You will only hurt yourself, falling in an out of love like you do.¡±


    ¡°Yes father. To be honest, I may never fall out of love again.¡±


    ¡°You will forget all about that while you¡¯re in the country. Good luck finding a rose in those barren fields. When you come home, you will be an honest woman with a serious goal in life. Put your Aunt on the line.¡±


    Aunt Zoe took the phone. She silently mouthed the words ¡®You lied to me¡¯. And maybe something else too, something not so nice.


    Cora took her plate to the kitchen, washed it, and then went to the guest room she was assigned. She stood in the window and let the fading sun wash her briefly before pulling the shades against it. The sun no longer felt like it was on her side.


    She undressed in the dark and lay down in bed. The heavy air of Olympus already seemed like a dream. Apollo was gone. The Gods were gone. No one was going to look out for her except for her, and she had better get used to it. On impulse, she got up and retrieved her old dress stained with blood from the hamper. She put it on, discovering a full length mirror on the inside of the closet door. She stared at her silhouette in the dark and imagined herself a warrior Goddess fresh from battle. She meant what she said: she was done falling in and out of love. If she wanted to ever see Apollo again, she would have to bring him back through her own efforts. What gates could bar the sun for long?


    A little giggle in the dark behind Cora. Dark shapes like claws appeared on either side of her in the mirror. She shrieked involuntarily with a most un-warrior like sound, and nearly leaped straight into the closet to get away. That only made the nymph laugh harder. Oreads laughed so hard she collapsed back onto Cora¡¯s bed and shook her leaves in the air to rain down on the sheets.


    ¡°Oreads! You stayed with me!¡±


    ¡°Look at you! You¡¯re a mess! You need me.¡±


    Cora turned on the lights and looked down at her bloodstained dress. She crossed her arms defiantly. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you mean.¡±


    ¡°You really are in love with him.¡±


    Cora shrugged. There was no point in denying it. Then she nodded. ¡°Forever.¡±


    ¡°How can I leave you in such a sorry state?¡± the nymph giggled. ¡°It is my role in life to serve the Gods, and there is nothing so divine as boundless love. I will help you to love again, and to let go of what is gone.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not gone!¡± Cora insisted. Her eyes stung like she was back in the sea.


    ¡°The Gods do things on our time, but their own. Remember that the tournament of the Gods lasted a hundred years before Poseidon won the final battle. Now that Zeus has gone on a trip, he may not be back again in your lifetime. And if by some miracle Apollo rises from his own death, then you will be fortunate to see him again when you are old and gray.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. I¡¯ll still love him then. And he promised to protect me forever.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you will, day by grieving day,¡± Oreads cooed softly. ¡°You will love him, and you will wait for him. And that love will grow heavier through the years. It will keep sinking deeper and deeper, until it leaves a pit inside you to fill with poison and regret. You are young and do not know how heavy love can grow. Poor child, you only think you wish to love Apollo. When truly you only wish to love. And now that you have learned to do it once, it will be so much easier to learn to love again.¡±


    Cora threw herself down on the bed beside Oreads. She buried her face in the pillow. She didn¡¯t care if the dried blood came off on her bed. She hoped it would bleed into her skin and never come out again.


    ¡°Come with me. I have something to show you,¡± Oreads said.


    Cora sat up again and rubbed her eyes. ¡°Did Aunt Zoe see you? I don¡¯t want to have to explain why I brought a bush into the house on top of everything.¡±


    ¡°A bush! How rude! I¡¯ll have you know I am the spirit of an olive tree. And don¡¯t worry, I have been undetected.¡±


    ¡°Did you use more magic to get in?¡±


    ¡°The window. You can crawl along the roof there for a bit to reach the tree in the yard. And you had better get used to it too. My magic isn¡¯t going to be saving you anymore.¡±


    Cora followed the nymph to the window and drew the shades up. She looked skeptically out at the thin ledge. The rough gray tiles of the roof were steep and daunting.


    ¡°What do you want to show me? Why can¡¯t you magic us there?¡±


    The nymph crawled out of the window. The branched leaves extending from her body gracefully folded behind her like wings to let her slip through the window.


    ¡°My magic is given to me by the Gods to serve them. I am here with you now, and am not so blessed. But one day perhaps Apollo really will return. And I think in serving you, he will be grateful to me then, and forgive me for stealing his sword.¡±


    ¡°How about you crawl on the roof, and I go out the front door and meet you outside?¡±


    ¡°This will not be the only time you need to escape this house. On the roof, if you please. Oh, but you¡¯re sure that¡¯s what you want to wear?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Cora ran her hands down her bloody dress.


    Oreads smiled and shook her head. She crouched low for balance and made her way along the slanting roof. Cora looked about frantically for a rope, or something to secure her first, but then changed her mind and ducked her head and body out the window. She stepped onto the roofing ledge, deliberately choosing not to be afraid. She pressed her back to the side of the house and inched her way along a few steps before making it onto the broader roof. There she crouched low like Oreads and followed her higher up the slope.


    Cora was so focused on the grip of her hands and feet, she didn¡¯t see anything else until she got to the very top. Then swinging a leg over, she straddled the pointed roof and secured herself. Only then did she look up into the face of the dreadful woman mounted on a giant leathery vulture. The harpy opened its beakish mouth to squawk at her.


    ¡°Quiet Nictate! Or no fish for you!¡± Oreads snapped.


    The frightful creature hung its head low below its jutting shoulder blades. Now that Cora was her proper size again, the harpy was a little smaller than her. There was a leafy vine knotted into a rope which bound one of the creature¡¯s legs. The other end was tied around the chimney.


    ¡°How did you catch it?¡± Cora asked in amazement.


    ¡°Tricks and lies!¡± the harpy wailed, more softly this time. ¡°Nasty mortal. Should have eaten her straight away. But no, the lady says. Only if she is with Apollo do we have a taste. It isn¡¯t fair!¡±


    ¡°Hera sent her harpies looking for Apollo,¡± Oreads explained. ¡°We might be able to use her to find him.¡±


    ¡°Then Hera knows he¡¯s still alive!¡± Cora would have leaped for joy if she hadn¡¯t been on the roof.


    The harpy squawked and pulled against its taunt vine. ¡°If he is alive, I know how to find him. Set me free, and I will show you before I return to Hera.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a dangerous deal ¡ª¡± Oreads warned. She cut herself short. Cora wasn¡¯t listening. She was already reaching toward the harpy¡¯s outstretched talon trapped in vines.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to save him this time,¡± Cora said.