CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XI

“A game of dice myfriend?”

Prometheus chuckled. “Against you? No.”

The woman across from him managed to maintain a pout worthy of her mother for all of two seconds before it fell and the creases around her mouth turned into laughter lines. Prometheus grinned back at her, his large forearms crossed against his chest as he leaned against the countertop and watched her. Tyche truly was a beautiful woman. She was as voluptuous as her mother, Aphrodite, but athletic like her father, Hermes. Her cleavage peeked out from behind a modest dress, while her strong, lean arms were bare as she leaned towards Prometheus from her position.

“Go on, you know you wantto.”

It was a taunt between old friends, for it was a running joke who would prevail. Tyche, Goddess of Fair and Ill Fortune, or Prometheus’ foresight. So far, in all the years they had known each other, Prometheus had only managed to win three hundred of the thousand or so games between them. Not that he was counting.

“Chess then,” she countered, for she knew he could not resist a game of logic.

“Chess,” he agreed before slowly making his way back to the table now that he had cleared the dishes of their supper away. Tyche went to the wall behind her that held cavern spaces for books and pulled out the old stone chess set. She knew where almost everything in this cabin was, having been one of the only ones Prometheus allowed to visit since he’d been sequestered to the confines of these walls in the mountain.

Night had descended, but there was a light that hung above the table that emitted a soft yellow beam so Tyche could see as she began to methodically polish and place the pieces in their rightful squares on the board, one by one, starting with the white first. Prometheus allowed himself a small smile. It was often an overlooked trait of Tyche’s, her organisation. Most people often just associated her with chaos. Prometheus himself had been guilty of that in the past and was surprised when she’d revealed her Virgo nature. There was a messy imperfection to chaos, she had once told him. He had never forgotten it.

“Still as compulsive as ever,” he jested, a rare joke from a man who rarely let anyone see this side of him.

“Look who’s talking,” she quipped back. “I hear you managed to get yourself entangled in the affairs of humansagain.”

“Who told you that?” Prometheus scowled.

“Aphrodite, ofcourse.”

“Is that why you’re here? To do your mother’s bidding?”

Tyche narrowed her hawk-like eyes, the same colour as her father’s, at him and looked momentarilyhurt.

“You think so little of our friendship?”

It had been Tyche that had appeared on his doorstep first, despite Zeus’ decree that he was to be shunned for two thousand years while the God of Gods decided on Prometheus’ punishment for presenting the humans with fire. Two thousand years was enough to set anyone’s teeth on edge. Of course, as mistress of good fortune, she had known the time when it would be favourable to visit. And as mistress of ill fortune, she was used to being accused and blamed for things the humans could find no logic for. On paper, the two were unlikely friends. Tyche seemed impulsive and unpredictable, Prometheus logical and persevering, but they had found similarities in their rebellious, risk-taking natures ... and their absolute defiance to apologise for their stances. This, however, was not one of those occasions. Tyche was slowly teaching him the value of loyalty over logic.

“I ... apologise.” The words came out like sandpaper in histhroat.

“By Zeus, you really don’t like to admit when you are wrong do you?” Then Tyche laughed, for she was not one to hold a grudge. Instead, she spun the chessboard around so that Prometheus faced the black. He scowled again but this time it held a playful edge.

“Really? You get toopen?”

“Really? You think getting involved with the humans again is wise?” Tyche countered as she made her opening move.

“It’s the right thing to do,” he eventually answered. “Amara, the priestess, she ... deserves support in hertask.”

Tyche paused, momentarily stunned. In all the time they had known each other, she had always known her friend to be impartial unless his foresight was in play.

“What do you know?” sheasked.

“Nothing, it’s ... foggy,” he growled, running a hand through the curls on his head in frustration before making a countermove. Tyche immediately responded in kind. A grunt was her only response as he kept his eyes on the board and she watched his facial expression inturn.

“Rusty from misuse, arewe?”

“Something likethat.”

A comfortable silence broke out between the pair as they continued to play, making moves and countermoves until Prometheus was quietly confident he could win.

“Perhaps you are overdue a visit to the human realm,” Tyche commented lightly as she moved her queen into check. Prometheus looked at her warily as he slowly moved his King into a more fortunate position.

“Tomorrow when the sun is at the highest point, you’ll be able to leave unseen,” she continued, moving a rook into a square that seemed to serve no purpose. “There’s an exhibition in Edinburgh on the constellations I think you’d particularly enjoy.”

“Why’s that?” He grumbled.

“Because you should have been able to spot what I was doing six moves ago,” she said as she moved her final piece into position and a checkmate was written between the pieces left on the board. “You are clearly troubled by this plight, and a troubled god − a Titan no less − is a dangerous one.”