A Reckoning so Sweet (The Reckoning Book 3) Read online

  Just two hours? Jeez, these gods need to learn a few things. Manners, how to be good hosts, what not long at all means. I’m sure there are others. The list isn’t exhaustive.

  I stand. “Is there a reason you were watching me sleep?”

  “You were dreaming. It seemed rude to interrupt.”

  My cheeks grow hot, even though there’s no way Hermes would be able to tell what I was doing in my dream, or even that I was self-aware in it to begin with. I cough. “When’s my meeting?”

  “Now,” Hermes says, reaching into his robe to pull out…a dove. An actual, live dove came from his pocket. I’m never getting used to this place, or these weirdos. He whispers something to it, and the bird takes off, flying from the room. “We’ll walk there, if that’s all right. I’d like to see if the mannerisms of mortals have changed at all.” Apparently he hadn’t snuck down like Aphrodite.

  All I can do is give him a fake smile. I love being watched and scrutinized.

  As we go, we walk mostly in silence. Hermes studies the way I walk, the way I hold myself, how much my arms move with our pace. He asks about the sicknesses that were common millennia ago, if there are any new ones. Our homes, whether we still travel in caravans, our government. In thirty minutes, I’ve given him a rundown on the U.S., though I’ve said nothing about other countries for fear of getting anything wrong. When we stop in front of what must be Zeus’s temple, I do give him the disclaimer that everything I said was about my people, and that there are a lot of other people out there.

  Or, well, there used to be.

  Hermes, after digesting everything I’ve told him, takes the lead of the conversation: “Now, there are some rules if you wish to come out of this meeting alive and unsullied. First, do not insult him. Second, do not reference anything sexual. Hera will also be there, and sometimes her punishments are worse. Third, be honest. He does not like liars. Do not dally. You came for an audience; get to the point quickly. He does not like to waste his time.”

  “I should’ve brought a notebook,” I joke. “Is there going to be a test on this?”

  Hermes itches near his winged headband. “I do not know what that means, so I am going to assume no.” Once he’s overcome his confusion, his thin arm sweeps to the temple, and I head on in.

  Here I thought I was nervous before, asking for Athena to bring me here. That was nothing compared to this. My hands are clammy. It’s not every day one is able to meet Zeus. It’d be a lot cooler if the world wasn’t ending. I could really bask in it, because it is pretty sweet. Olympus, the gods, the colors. I wouldn’t mind having a world like this.

  My sandals click on the marble floor, and I head into the temple. The numerous columns give way to a type of throne room. Twelve stone chairs sit on a raised platform facing me. Most are empty. I spot Athena and Aphrodite, sitting to the right. A god I don’t recognize sits on the rightmost chair, eyes in her lap. Hermes floats to his seat on the left, a few empty chairs away from Aries. Hades is, of course, elsewhere, as are many of the other gods.

  I glare at Aries, and his dark eyes meet mine in a challenge. He wears the same leather vest, his lightning tattoo thick on his muscle. He even sits in his chair like a cocky bastard; one leg up, his knees spread. How badly I want to lunge at him, dropkick him off Olympus. But I hold back, mostly because of the two imposing gods directly in front of me, on the biggest thrones.

  Zeus sits on the largest, his greying beard down to his chest, his curly hair held back by a thick band of gold. Most of his chest is visible from his low-hanging robes, and I’m able to see just how built he is, even though he’s the oldest-looking of them all. For a middle-aged man, even he’s attractive.

  Beside him, Hera sits, her dress so long it cascades off the platform. Her long nails gently tap on her chair’s armrests, her crowned head tilted. She’s probably waiting for me to make a move on Zeus or something. He’s a good-looking guy, sure, but everyone here is, even the women. This group would make nearly anyone question their sexuality.

  “Uh,” I say, my voice echoing in the room. “Hi.”

  Wow. That’s what I got? My inner smartass is disappointed in me.

  None of the gods say anything. They don’t even move.

  I continue, “I’m sure you know what Hades is up to. He wants the earth and the heavens for himself. I’m here because I can’t let that happen. My home needs to stay free. Freedom and freewill are what separates us from the animals. Hades will take that away.” I draw my eyes to each of the gods before me. “As long as I am breathing, I will not let that happen. The odds are against me, I know. But they usually are.” Bringing my stare back to Zeus, I add, “I need to know the rest of the story. What is so important about the beast under the earth’s surface? Why is Hades preparing to fight it? How can I use it against him?”

  “You cannot.” Zeus’s words come out as waves of energy, strong and commanding.

  “There must be a way.”

  “If there was a way to defeat them, to end them, I would have done it. Sealing them away on your world was the only thing I could do.” There’s a pause before he says, “Hades will be unable to conquer them, even with his army of amassed souls. It will be impossible for you to defeat them. Though you are Marked, you are mortal.”

  “Them. You keep saying them. What are they?”

  Hera speaks gravely, “They are our beginning.”

  I try to think back to English class. What came before the Greek gods? But I draw a blank; I can’t remember.

  Zeus frowns deeply, rubbing his beard. “Hades’s work will be for nothing.”

  Growing impatient, I yell, “What are they?”

  The head honcho doesn’t like my raised voice. He gathers a lightning bolt in his hand, stands and throws it at me. The bolt hits the ground two feet in front of me, sparking and growing until its yellow, electrical power takes up nearly the entire room. The lightning surges into a form—multiple forms—all giant and twisted shapes of creatures I’ve never seen before. I stumble back, and a shimmering yellow shape remains where I stood, shrinking until it’s no more than a dot on the ground. The dot is nothing but a speck compared to the creatures of zapping electricity.

  Don’t tell me that’s to scale.

  “They are the Titans,” Zeus booms, his voice reverberating deep within my chest. “And they won’t be defeated by you, by Hades—Satan or the Seraphs. They are the beginnings of our time, and they will be the end of yours. Tell me, Champion, do you still wish to fight them? Or has your confidence frozen in the face of your death?”

  While it might be true that I’m a bit stunned, I’m not going to waver. I stare past the shimmering beasts, straight at Zeus. “Clearly you don’t know much about me, and you’ve lost touch with humanity. As we like to say, if there’s a will, there’s a way—and I definitely have a will, and it won’t be swayed by your parlor tricks or your magic.”

  As the lightning thickens in the room and Zeus grows enraged, Aries starts to clap. “I love it, I love it,” he repeats, laughing. Hermes looks uncomfortable, while Athena is smiling at me.

  I open my arms wide. “Hit me with your best shot, Zeus! Give me all you got!”

  The creatures of lightning subside as Zeus readies another bolt, this one hits me. Directly in the chest, right at my heart.

  I fly backwards, my back colliding with a stone column. Athena and Aphrodite stand, concerned. The nameless goddess actually tore her gaze from her lap to watch. Aries remained amused, while Hermes’s mouth is ajar. Hera barely flinches at the attack. The heat, the electricity nearly swallow me. But they don’t, because of my Mark.

  Zeus, whose confidence sickens me, takes a step back as I stand. Though my knees wobble, I manage to stand straight.

  “I,” I hiss, downright angry now, “am a little tougher than I look. I’ve been skewered, cut, shot, eaten. I’ve been to the Underworld and back. I’ve watched those that I love be taken before their time. I’ve been betrayed and lied to, deceived by both my frien
ds and one of your own. I’ve lived my entire life knowing my soul was not mine. I will fight Hades, I will fight Lucifer—and while I’m at it, I’ll also fight the Titans. You could either help me, or not. I don’t care. Either way, when the fighting starts, I’ll be there with fucking bells on.”

  Swearword spoke aloud? Go me.

  “When was the last time you’ve seen a mortal take a direct blow from Zeus and dust it off as if it were nothing?” Athena speaks, standing. “She is the Champion of men. If anyone can find a way to end the Titans for eternity, it is she.”

  Hermes, amazed at what he witnessed, whispers, “I have never seen a Mark so powerful.”

  Zeus’s tempter subsides, and he sits on his throne, sighing as he rubs his beard. “If I knew of a way to end them, I would’ve done it. Your quest here is meaningless. Be gone from Olympus, mortal, and return to your dying world. There is nothing for you here.”

  I can’t stop a skeptical laugh from coming out. “And here I thought you were Zeus, the all-powerful. So much for all the legends, huh? My world dies, it’s only a matter of time before they come here, and I have a feeling you don’t have enough power to lock them up again. You better hope I find a way.”

  “No,” Athena shouts. “I will take her to the vault. Perhaps there is something there that we have missed.”

  “Very well,” Zeus mutters. “Get her out of my sight.” As he waves his hand, Athena appears near me. She grips my wrist over the owl-adorned brace, and before I can close my eyes, we portal.

  And when we reappear wherever we are, I throw up.

  Yuck.

  Wiping my mouth, I regain my posture and turn to Athena, who tries not to look at the pile of vomit. “Sorry,” I tell her, “it just happened so fast, and there was no way I was going to swallow it back down.”

  Athena holds in a frown as she says, “It is beginning to smell. We should go.” With her back to me, she waves a hand, lighting the torches on the wall. A door stands between us and the vault, its face carved into clouds and lightning bolts. Her armored arm reaches for the door, her hand flattening on its surface. A spark of recognition crosses it, sending a tiny shockwave through the hall. Taking back her arm, Athena stands by as it cracks open.

  Through the door, I can see a long, narrow hall, murals on both sides. The torches between them light one by one, all the way down.

  It’s a long, long hall.

  Athena is the first to travel down the hall, and I hurry to catch up before the vault door closes behind us. I have no idea where we are on Olympus, but judging by the coldness, I’d say we’re under it.

  “It’s said that in the beginning, there were the Primordials. They were the original beings of life, who then gave birth to the Titans. The Titans overthrew them, and in our mythos, that is how the different realms were born.”

  As we walk, the murals we pass tell the same story, though the Primordials and Titans are all depicted in the form of man—which they definitely are not, if the giant red eyes are any indication.

  “The Titans birthed us, and history has a way of repeating itself. Zeus rallied the other gods against them.” We stopped in front of a painting of Zeus and his fellow gods, all wielding their chosen weapons, running head-first to the Titans. “The Titans could not be killed, thus Zeus had a prison forged, deep within the earth, where Poseidon would always reside and watch over them.”

  We move to the next mural, where a shadowy figure—Poseidon—hovers over a great darkness in the ocean, his trident glimmering. I reach out and gently touch the painting, where the Titans are at the bottom.

  I meet Athena’s stare. “And the Primordials, what happened to them once they were overthrown?”

  Athena shakes her head as she says, “I cannot say. That was long before our time. Perhaps they faded away as history forgot about them.”

  Just as I’m about to ask another question, a woman appears in the hall—the same goddess who I did not recognize in the throne room. When she comes closer, I see a vaguely familiar face. Quite a few years younger-looking than my own mom, but older than me by at least a decade, I know I’ve seen her face before, and I don’t just mean in the temple.

  “Demeter,” Athena says her name.

  She bows her head. “Athena. Forgive me, but I heard your story, and I heard your questions.” Her bright blue eyes move to me. “I do not believe the Primordials are gone. I think they reside in the other realms. If you find Gaia, she may give life to your world once more.”

  Athena sighs. “Demeter…”

  The other goddess takes my hand, turning it to look at my Mark. Her pale fingers trace the skeletal design from my elbow to my wrist, where Athena’s boon sits. “This feels…like it’s from her.”

  Athena steps between us, breaking Demeter’s grip on me. “That Mark does not belong to your daughter. You know that.”

  Her daughter? Her daughter, as in…as in Persephone.

  “No,” I say. “But it does belong to her son.”

  “She bore Satan a son?” Demeter’s eyes grow teary. When I nod, she asks, “Does he look like her?”

  Persephone was paler than Dagon. He got his middle-eastern darkness from Lucifer, along with the pitch-blackness that is his hair. But his eyes are not the same as his father’s. While Lucifer’s eyes are a dark, stormy blue, Dagon’s are bright like the sky, full of life and (as cheesy as it is) love.

  “He has her eyes,” I finally say after a moment of thought.

  “And has he…”

  “He’s better than I ever would’ve imagined. He takes after his mother more than his father.”

  Tears fall from her eyes, staining her flawless cheeks. Even while crying, Demeter is pretty. I can see where Persephone got her looks from. “I never thought…I never saw his birth. I thought her child would be lost to Hell.” She smiles through the tears. “Not once did I ever think that I…do you think I could meet him?”

  I’m momentarily taken aback, and look to Athena for support. All the goddess does is wait for my response, as Demeter does. “I don’t see why not. Come back to earth with me, meet your grandson.”

  Athena speaks, “I will take you both there, then.”

  “So, to wrap this up: all I have to do is find out if the Primordials are still around, where they’re hiding, and convince them to help me fight the Titans.” I laugh. “Seems a bit easy, don’t you think?”

  Athena’s perfectly shaped brows rise. “Your version of easy does not sound like mine, but I applaud your boldness, Champion.” She offers Demeter and I each a hand. I grip her forearm, and Demeter does the same.

  This time I remember to close my eyes.

  Chapter Five

  When I once more feel solid ground beneath my feet, I open my eyes. No longer in the paradise of life and greenery that is Mount Olympus, I’m back on earth, surrounded by dead grass and skeletons of trees. No hills, no mountains. Nothing but flat, dead terrain. Even the wind is dry. The sun above our heads would burn us and send our flesh on a bubbling, boiling rampage, but Athena and Demeter are goddesses, thus they’re immune.

  And I’m just a special snowflake, thanks to my Mark.

  Demeter’s breath catches as she surveys the area. “This is not what I remember earth being.” She brings her familiar gaze to me, adding quietly, “I am sorry your world is dying. Nothing deserves this fate.”

  I’m about to thank her when I hear Dagon emerge from the cave’s entrance, climbing out. He calls my name, thrilled that I’m back, but when he sees I’m not alone, his happiness fades instantly. For a moment, I’m reminded of the old Dagon, the I’m-better-than-you-because-of-my-bloodline Dagon.

  AKA the douchebag.

  Dagon opens his mouth to question me, but Demeter steps forward, studying him intently. They’re both quiet for a bit, and she holds his stare with her own. In the blink of an eye, she falls onto him, wrapping his chest in a hug.

  “I…” Dagon manages to speak, awkwardly patting Demeter on the back. “…am confused.�
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  While Athena merely smiles, I outright laugh. “Dagon,” I say, “this is Demeter.”

  “Okay,” he says. “That’s…a very nice name.” It’s clear he’s still not getting it.

  Demeter pulls away, grinning as she places both hands on his face, touching his cheekbones and tugging at his hair, looking at his nose and ears and giving him a once-over. Satisfied, she folds her hands across her stomach and says, “You are beautiful.”

  “Thank you?” he speaks it like a question, unsure. Dagon looks at me, wordlessly asking for help.

  “Demeter is Persephone’s mother,” I say, “your grandmother.”

  He grows serious, the confusion gone. “Oh. I…am sorry for what my father did to her.” Dagon keeps the soul stuck in Hell part to himself, which is good, because I think Demeter would turn into a blubbering mess.

  She comes to a decision instantly. “You would make her proud.” It could be because his words or because he’s not with Lucifer, or maybe Demeter’s just a good judge of character. She turns to me, gripping both of my hands in hers. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I say, feeling slightly awkward myself once I realize she hasn’t let go of my hands.

  “I cannot interfere with the earth’s harvests until the Reckoning is done, but I can give you this, to use after.”

  I feel something form and shape in my palms, and when Demeter pulls hers off mine, I see a tiny golden circlet of wheat, twisted in the shape of a ring.

  “Once you defeat the Titans, and the world has a chance to heal itself, plant it, and you and your people will never be hungry again,” she explains, plucking it from my palm and sliding it onto a finger in my right hand. For now, though, its powers lie dormant.”

  “That’s assuming it’s even possible to beat them,” I say.

  Demeter returns to Athena’s side as she says, “Find the Primordials.” She grips Athena’s wrists.

  Before portaling away, Athena gives me a smile. “Good luck, Champion.” And they’re gone.

  However, a new goddess stands in their place. Aphrodite looks a little less goddess-like on earth, but still gorgeous. She has her hands on her wide hips as she giggles. “Hermes is going to be so irritated with all these unchronicled sojourns.” Her black eyes dart to Dagon. “Hey, there, handsome. The last time I saw you, this missy was saving your cute, firm butt from the Underworld.”