"Calm yourself, daughter," he murmured into my ear. "It won’t bring him back."
As he leveled his black gaze at Moros, his voice turned into malicious steel.
"Why have you done this?" he gestured toward my crumpled soul mate and my heart broke into pieces. From behind Ares’ thick arm, I glared at Moros with all of the ice I could muster from my frozen heart.
"Why?" she sounded surprised. "Harmonia knows why. I told her a moment ago.
According to the prophecy, she will experience a great loss before she seeks Zeus’
sword. I have just given her that great loss."
I shrieked again and flailed helplessly against my father as he held me as easily as a rag doll. My mother, however, was not restrained and blurred into motion, instantly standing in front of the old Keres.
"How dare you?" she demanded, with more malice than I had ever heard coming from her lips as her chestnut hair fluttered in the night breeze. Her face, which was perfect in its beauty, was contorted in barely contained rage. "The prophecy does not say that it should be you that brings Harmonia a great loss.
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"Do you think that you can meddle with the gods so easily and there will be no consequences? Do you think that Harmonia will find the sword and simply hand it over to you so that you can reign over Olympus, bringing tragedy and sadness to us all?
I think not, you ancient hag."
Aphrodite’s anger was so great that it fueled the nearby torches and they exploded into the night sky, orange sparks spitting onto the thick damp grass before dying quietly in the dew.
But Moros did not shirk away. She stood hunched as she always did, meeting Aphrodite’s unflinching gaze with eyes that were so faded that they seemed strangely opaque. The blood that fell from the corners made her seem that much more grotesque.
It dripped down her creased cheeks, running down her arms and streaming into a puddle to the ground around her feet.
She watched Aphrodite silently, something that infuriated my mother even more.
Aphrodite lunged at her, grabbing her by the front of her long cloak and hurling the old woman forcefully against a nearby blooming Lotus tree. The Keres collided into the massive trunk and on impact, the brilliant blue Lotus blossoms shriveled and died, falling to the ground in dried black petals.
Moros lay crumpled at the base of the tree, curled into a heap, but her stare was still firm and focused with laser precision on my mother.
"The prophecy is specific," she stated simply, her voice thin and fragile.
"Harmonia will suffer a great loss before she finds the sword. It will benefit all of Olympus when she finds it."
"Especially you?" Aphrodite pressed stubbornly. "You feel that you will benefit as you step into your sisters’ shoes? Now that we’ve imprisoned the Fates you think to take their place as the usurping rulers of the Spiritlands in Zeus’ absence?" She was so furious that her arms shook and her cheeks flushed in red streaks.
"Aphrodite," Ares interrupted, handing me to my sister Ortrera as he stepped carefully toward my mother. "Be still."
She turned to him in surprise and agitation.
"Be still? You mean… be silent?" Her voice raised an octave. "How dare you?
This pathetic heap has rendered your daughter’s husband lifeless and you stand idly by and tell me to be silent? This… coming from the god of war? Ppft."
She turned up her nose but gasped as Ares’ sword sliced the air directly next to her ear. She whirled, only to find that the sword had impaled one of the many children of the Gorgons.
With the body of a snake and a human head, the creatures were scary enough, but coupled with their ability to turn anyone to stone with their stares, the Gorgons were simply terrifying. This one had wound its way silently from the branches above Courtney Cole 6
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Aphrodite’s head and had been preparing to dangle in front of her, forcing her to meet its deadly gaze. But luckily for her, Ares had seen it first.
As the lifeless Gorgon hung limply from the tree trunk, impaled by Ares’ sword, Aphrodite gasped again, staring at the bloody half-reptile. She took a shaking step toward Ares, but she was too slow.
In a blur of motion, he was already standing next to the wounded Keres. Staring down at Moros, his voice boomed like thunder.
"You thought to turn my beloved to stone?"
His voice was as dark as a hurricane and I flinched from the threat that it contained.
He lifted a muscled leg and smashed his heavy foot into the old Keres’ chest. Her frail bones crunched and I watched her deflate as she wilted into the ground, her ribcage shattered. Her vague moans didn’t move me at all. She deserved all of this and more.
Her ragged pants faded into the backdrop of the night as against my will, my gaze sought out my lifeless husband once more.
He lay perfectly still, his beauty unbearable, even in eternal sleep. I collapsed to the ground and scrambled to his side. Curling into him, I held his hand and wept. His limp hand was still warm and I wondered how long it would take before his strong body cooled.
I had never actually seen an immortal rendered lifeless before. I had no way of knowing what to expect. Would he remain just as he was now? Warm and vibrant? I traced the outline of his hand, weaving my fingers through his long ones, wrapping his limp arm around my body.
If I didn’t find Zeus’ sword, he would remain as this… a lifeless shell of the man that he was. Only the sword could bring him back to me and Zeus could have hidden it anywhere in the world.
The crowd around me was hushed as they waited for me to move. But I didn’t. I lay motionlessly with my husband for longer than I knew. As I inhaled his familiar scent, curled into his warm side, I pretended that nothing was wrong…that we were simply laying together as we would any other time. Time passed impotently by. It didn’t affect us anymore. We were immortal.
Finally, Aphrodite knelt at my side, her voice gentle.
"Sweetling, let us move Cadmus into the palace. We’ll post guards with him. He’ll be safe there while we begin our quest for the sword."
"What about the hags?" I whispered, my eyes flitting to the Keres.
Moros was still crumpled on the ground. She hadn’t healed yet from her wounds.
Each ragged breath she took rasped in her throat and I took joy in that fact. Thanatos hovered near her sister. Her face was unconcerned. She knew her sister would heal quickly. All immortals did. She also knew that she had nothing to fear from us. Only Zeus’ sword could truly kill them, just as any other immortal. I swallowed hard.