CHAPTER XXIX

CHAPTER XXIX

Prometheus was escorted to Zeus and Hera’s palace by an eagle so large he could pick up Prometheus himself and carry him back to Olympus if he had to. Instead, the bloody bird decided to keep a discerning eye on him, squawking in warning whenever it looked like Prometheus was not going to follow the clear flight path of Zeus’ pet. Eventually they arrived, Prometheus dirty, parched, and exhausted from the journey with no break. Exactly how Zeus intended him to be.

Like the last time he was here, he was escorted to the courtyard, for the weather was still warm enough to eat outside. Unlike last time, there was a hustle and bustle about. The long stone table, which could seat all twelve Olympians, was set in colours of deep ruby red laced with gold, gilded utensils, goblets, and other finery. The nymphs fanned about like mother hens, clucking as they laid the table. Raised by Hera, they were matronly in their demeanour and dress, with long gowns made of chiffon that covered all their attributes and hair coiled back under maiden caps. Most of them had learnt to avoid Zeus’ gaze so as not to infuriate their mistress, and so they too ignored Prometheus, who appeared to be the only one present.

The table was laid for onlythree.

Taking one of the side seats at a nymph’s request, for the head of the table was surely Zeus’, Prometheus waited. The time walking here had given him a chance to clear his head after his summons from Zeus had been ... unmalleable. The time at the table gave him clarity to prepare for the calamity he knew was about to hit. Ever since Amara had looked him in the eyes, the words unspoken between them, his foresight had returned with a roaring vengeance. Now it prowled behind his eyes, cagey, pacing, desperate to get out.

Instead, his eyes tracked as Zeus made his way into the courtyard, followed shortly by … Dionysus. Prometheus stood. Zeus didn’t even acknowledge the formality with so much as a nod.

“Prometheus.”

“My Lord.” Despite the fact Zeus was not his Lord, it was the proper term for occasions such as this. And Prometheus made no mistake − this would be an occasion, for he couldn’t understand why Dionysus was here unless he was to serve as a witness.

Both the men sat, Zeus at the head of the table and Dionysus opposite him.

The God of Wine produced a bottle and began to pour Zeus’ cup first. In his eager haste, the wine sloshed over the rims of the goblets and onto the table.

“It is a new blend, gentlemen,” heannounced.

“What have you decided to call it?” Zeus asked, taking a sip before scowling at his goblet in displeasure. By the pinched look of his mouth, the grapes were far too tart for his liking.

“I don’t name them; the humans do! I simply drink them and observe that their effects take hold as they should.” A coy grin from the god. Many a baby had been sired thanks to Dionysus’ input.

“And right you are, Dionysus,” Zeus raised his own goblet again in a mock toast.

Prometheus sensed the trap and said nothing.

“Speaking of ... who is that delightfully enchanting human I’ve seen you hanging around with Prometheus?” Dionysus asked, taking a large gulp of wine before leaning back in his chair, balancing precariously on two legs.

“Yes, Prometheus,” said Zeus darkly. “Why don’t you tell us of this human woman it appears you have been spending all your timewith?”

When he didn’t answer, Dionysus continued digging. “She must be someone special. I’ve seen the way you two are together. Warm smiles shared over fire-breathing whisky, the odd nightcap. Why just the other night there was a rather heated discussion over a bottle of wine or three, wasn’t thatright?”

Prometheus wanted to kick the legs out from under the chair and send the god toppling backwards onto his sorry arse, where he belonged.

When the silence stretched on, Zeus growled. “You’ve been holding out on me, Prometheus. Come, I would have you tell us all about this woman who has captured yourattention.”

Prometheus had no intention of doing any such thing. It was already painfully apparent Zeus knew everything he needed to know, or at least he thought he did, in order to pass judgement. At that moment, Prometheus’ thought of Jesus, a man named Judas, and a table laid for twelve.

He chose to answer the question with one of hisown.

“Tell me, Dionysus, who bore the bloodline of Judas with a human lover thanks to my acts, how did youknow?”

Dionysus stroked his wisp of a beard that still looked like bumfluff on his chin and shrugged. “I keep an eye on Tyche’s proclivities. I found it rather interesting when she stopped going to visit yourcabin.”

Prometheus remained silent as he rocked back in his own chair observing hisaccuser.

“I’ve never known her Highness of Chance to ever bestow such favourable odds to anyone before as I have you,” Dionysus continued.

“Perhaps that’s because you forever skew her odds with your wine,” Prometheus finally answered, giving him a pointed look.

Dionysus and Tyche had a ... complicated relationship. Given her influence, and Dionysus’ penchant for not wanting any responsibility, there was once a time when the young god had wanted to woo the Goddess of Chance. However, true to form, Tyche had proven to be fickle ... stringing the young upstart along until revealing her hand, which had not swung in Dionysus’ favour. Humiliated in front of the family, Dionysus had started taking his responsibilities a little more seriously from then on, often at the frustration of Tyche. It would likely be a cat-and-mouse game that would last for millennia, though Prometheus knew who he would place his money on. She would be pleased, he thought, to learn that he had finally learnt the lesson of loyalty over logic.

“What did you say this human woman’s name was again?” Dionysus asked coyly.

Prometheus specifically hadn’t mentioned her name. It shouldn’t have been a problem. The gods often treated the humans as little more than toys; they certainly didn’t care for names. But Dionysus had a bee in his bonnet, as the humans would say, that Tyche and he got on so well. And now Prometheus couldn’t very well claim not to know her name, not given the amount of time he’d spent with her. Then there was the fact that he had always prided himself on learning the humans’ names. It was a point he had been teased for relentlessly in Olympus in thepast.

“Amara,” he saideventually.

“Amara … Amara. Now where do I know that name from? Hold on a moment. Isn’t that the name of the priestess Athena and Aphrodite have been arguing over the last fewmonths?”

Prometheus stared at him.

“How the hell did you know about that?” he growled.

Dionysus tsked. “My name’s been mentioned in passing as they squabble. I keep an eye out for such things.”

“How diligent of you.”

“Is it true, Prometheus? That this woman of yours was a priestess of ours? That you plotted behind my back to give the humans my power for a mere priestess turned mortal?” Zeus asked so menacingly, so quietly, that even the birds stopped singing. Silence so sharp it engulfed all ofthem.

Prometheus could have mentioned the others’ involvement, but he didn’t. Where Amara was concerned, he would always bear the brunt of punishment. He’d turn the world to rubble before he saw her harmed and he entrusted no one else with her safety.

“I did not lie to you. The humans are dying …”

Zeus stood, rising to his full height, and Prometheus rose with him − not one to back down.

“You lied byomission.”

To that Prometheus could say nothing. It was true.

“To dare to try and pull the wool over my eyes … to make me look a fool. You truly have gonemad.”

“I am as sane as I’ve ever been,” Prometheus statedcalmly.

Zeus looked at him and continued as if he hadn’t heard Prometheus. “It must have been all that time alone that caused it. The first woman you see you decide to ruin the world for! Imagine that! By my name, I should have sent you a dozen whores! It is my fault. I should have given you a punishment the first time, not solitude, but I wanted to see if your allegiance had truly changed over time. Clearly it has not. It will not be a mistake I make again,” he warned, pointing a finger at Prometheus.

Stepping out from the table, Zeus began pacing. No doubt he was thinking things through in his head … or actually discussing them with Athena’s mother. Meanwhile, Dionysus leaned back in his chair, a sly curve across his face.

“Why?” Prometheus asked. “What good does your interferencebring?”

“I asked myself the same question when you wouldn’t let that little priestess of yours die. You ruin my plan, I ruin yours.” Dionysus shrugged.

“And how do the goddesses feel knowing that you have ruined their plantoo?”

Dionysus shrugged again. “They’ll get over it. That’s what family does. You wouldn’t know that though, would you? After you sold your family out forours.”

“You always were a petty child,” Prometheus replied with a look of distaste on hisface.

Before Dionysus could retort, Zeus turned back to the table. “Has anyone bar this priestess-turned-mortal been exposed to the whitefire?”

“No.”

Zeus nodded. “Good. Bring her here tome.”

“My friend, you cannot …”

“I am not your friend, Prometheus. It is a decree from the King of Gods. If you will not fetch her, in fact − no, you shall not fetch her. I will send Hermes. You are no longer to be trusted. I have given you far too long a leash, but your Titan blood betrays you once again.

You are not to go near this woman until I have spoken to her. That you have betrayed me for a woman, all because you needed to get your cock wet and you wanted her to remember you were a Titan …”

“That was NOT my reasoning.” Prometheus growled, for he knew shouting would get him nowhere but he couldn’t not speak up. The intention of the white fire offering had never been for his own selfish gains.

Zeus stopped and finally looked Prometheus in the eye. In them, Prometheus saw storm clouds, hurt, and betrayal. A deep sadness etched into eyes of cobaltblue.

“Did you or did you not petition me for the white fire on her behalf?”

Overhead, Zeus’ eagle circled and large clouds of thunder began toform.

Prometheus sighed, because, yes, his intention had primarily been to save Amara. He hung his head. Tyche and her good fortune that she’d bestowed upon Prometheus had been wiped out by Dionysus’ cunning jealousy and wounded pride.

He felt Zeus’ arm curl around his shoulder, a friendly gesture as he delivered a killing blow. “Then you betrayed me. And I am sorry for your actions, for you fought bravely by my side once upon an eon. But now you mustpay.”

“Zeus—”

“You will wait with the Gorgons until your mortal arrives.”

With that, Zeus turned on his leather-bound heel and left. Dionysus followed behind him, whistling, after throwing one last I-told-you-so smirk at Prometheus, who collapsed back into his chair, his head in his hands, his eyes racing behind his eyelids, as he searched his mind desperately for a solution.