“Get up!” Hecate hissed as she threw my covers back and pulled me to my feet, ignoring my question. “This is not you, Harmonia. You are strong. You are a fighter. You are the Chosen One, for god’s sake. You’re the goddess of peace—summon some of that for yourself. Get up!”
I stared at her blankly, then whimpered.
“Where’s Cadmus?”
She rolled her eyes and then snapped, “He’s with your parents. They don’t have the heart to do what I am doing now. This is called tough love. Why do you think we have taken so long to prepare for this trip? Because we have been waiting for you to regain your feisty spirit before we set off. And I was patient—you’ve been through a lot and you deserved a brief rest. But three days? Enough is enough! So many things hinge upon your actions, Harmonia. Your mortal mother is waiting on Calypso’s island and your daughter must be found, not to mention the Olympians. Pull yourself together.”
Staring into my eyes, she shook me hard. My head whipped back and I should have been angry. Or startled. Or something. I knew that was her intention. But I wasn’t. I felt numb and when she stopped, I stood still once more with my head bowed.
“Oh, god’s teeth,” Hecate muttered. “I’ve readied a bath for you in the bathhouse. Go and bathe. We will ride at dusk.”
“Why dusk?” I asked woodenly.
“Why not?” she threw over her shoulder as she walked out. “Just be ready.”
I stared at her for a moment, pondering my circumstances. I had always loved a good hot bath and Zeus’ bathhouse was the finest anywhere. But the mere thought of bathing was exhausting, much less actually doing it. However, the thought of suffering Hecate’s wrath if she returned to find me still here spurred me into motion.
It seemed to take too much effort to summon the energy to materialize in front of the bath, so I walked instead, one numb foot after the other. I kept my eyes straight ahead, ignoring the stares from the house servants as I descended the stairs of the palace.
As I passed through the courtyard, the beauty surrounding me faded into an insignificant backdrop. The falling blue lotus blossoms, the intricate arbors dripping with jasmine, honeysuckle and climbing wisteria, the sculpted gardens that stretched as far as I could see… all of it blended together. The scents filled the air and my nose. But I didn’t enjoy it as I normally did. The swirling sky above me, unique to the Spiritlands, was bright with daylight hues… pinks, whites, yellows and blues. The clouds swirled and puffed and it was a happy scene.
I should have felt brightened at the sight. But I did not. I felt empty inside.
Hecate was right. I had been through a lot lately. In the not so distant past, I had found out that for several millennia the Fates had lied to me, telling me that I was a Keeper of fate and that I was marked to carry out their plans for the mortal world. That was a lie. For thousands of years, I had lived their lie, which typically had tragic and heartbreaking consequences for me in each life. In reality, I was the daughter of Aphrodite and Ares. And if that weren’t bad enough, the Fates had somehow managed to imprison the gods.
I had already found Zeus’ elusive sword, which had saved my husband Cadmus from their clutches, but when Hecate had sheathed it next to Zeus’ throne, it had interfered with many things that the Fates had designed… one of them being my daughter.
Sweet little Raquel. I had only just discovered her. The Fates had hidden her from me throughout the millennia, erasing her from my memory so that I didn’t even know that she was mine. Until now—and right after I had found her, she had been wrenched away. She was just…gone. It was so devastating that I didn’t know if I could stand it.
“Chosen One,” I muttered as I kicked a pebble on the cobblestone walk to the Bathhouse. I might be the Chosen One, meant to return the Spiritlands to Zeus, but how could I do that when I had allowed my very own daughter slip from my grasp?
Pushing open the jeweled doors, I gazed inside the massive bathhouse. It was an opulent scene straight from ancient Rome. A massive sparkling pool heated to the perfect temperature filled the majority of the room. Open hallways on either side, sculpted with flying buttresses, housed several smaller pools each fed from fountains flowing from the marble walls. White marble statues of the gods lined the backlit alcoves.
The soothing bubbling sounds filled my ears as I padded across the cut granite floor, the stone cool beneath my bare feet. It was empty but for me. Letting my soft linen sheath drop to my ankles, I stepped out of it and into the water, wading into the largest pool wearing only my bloodstone.
My bloodstone. I sighed. A gift and a curse, it had been given to me by my step-father Hephaestus in his attempt to seek revenge on my mother, Aphrodite, for betraying him with my father, Ares. Zeus had donated a bit of his own blood to Hephaestus for the cause, which had resulted in the pendant possessing powerful abilities, as well as Hephaestus’ curse.
Because my memories were wiped clean in every mortal life that I had lived for the past couple of millennia, I had forgotten who I actually was and the history of my Bloodstone for a very long time. The Fates had allowed me to think that they created it instead, that it was part of their organization, the Order of the Moirae. Just another lie in an entire life filled with them.
I sighed again. The water was perfect, hot enough to steam, but not so hot that I couldn’t bear it. Pulling the water back with my arms, I dropped onto my back and floated. I imagined that the water smelled like honeysuckle and instantly the flowery scent surrounded me. I stared up at the stone ceiling. It was painted with an intricate mural of Zeus and Hera presiding over a royal banquet.
Everyone in the painting was happy and joyful, laughing like carefree gods should. Aphrodite was laughing into Ares’ ear while my step-father, Hephaestus, glared at them thunderously from across the room. Athena danced in lotus blossoms while Zeus wisely watched everything in front of him with a knowing smile, Hera’s hand lying gently on his arm. Everyone was laughing.
Those days were gone forever unless I found them and restored them to their rightful places on Mount Olympus. With a sigh, I ducked my head underwater and kicked across the pool to the other side. There was nothing like the weight of the world on my shoulders to make me feel less than buoyant.
As I kicked off the opposing wall to return, the water began kicking up and growing choppy. I planted my feet and stared at it uncertainly. And then I froze in horror as it turned to blood. The entire pool was full of churning blood and it spattered onto my face, dripping onto my lips. Spinning in a circle, I screamed, but no one came.