CHAPTER I

CHAPTER I

Athena stared at the table in front of her, the words of the Moirai fresh in her mind. Before her was a browned-with-age spread, a map of the world ingrained into the fabric of the table. It was a large, ugly thing, taking up the majority of the room. The wooden top was scored with marks from the years Athena had planned, acted, and executed battle plans, while its dark wooden legs curled and gnarled their way to a sandy stone floor. The rest of the room was carved from stone too. Opposite the great doors, made of the same dark wood as the table, were huge archways that showed spectacular views of Athens from high in the mountains. There were no shutters, nothing to stop the elements from breaking in, but then Athena always said working with the elements was an essential part of strategy. Despite the exposure, the room was pristine. There were a few potted plants dotted around the room, and opposite the large war table on the east-facing wall, there, instead of a fireplace, stood a small freshwater fountain by the chaises where she would retire for the day, for she had always thought of water as far more intelligent an element than the bruteness offire.

One of her tawny owls watched her with a cocked head, quizzically, for there were currently no war pieces, which were usually placed in a chess-like pattern, across the table that Athena was staring hardat.

“This is no ordinary battle,” she told her companion. “The humans aren’t fighting some known enemy. They’re actually fighting themselves, theirinstincts.”

The owl hooted.

“I have absolutely no idea how to win this battle,” she muttered to the only confidant she would ever say such a thing out loud to, for to admit weakness was to invite the vultures of her family to vie for her place.

“There is one who might be able to shed some light on the matter. Fetch Aphrodite forme.”

The owl hooted again, spread its wings the width of the windowsill, and took off with a powerful beat of its wings. Athena watched it until it was a speck against a light grey sky that reflected the colour of her owneyes.

An hour passed before Aphrodite appeared before her in a light white sheath that matched her hair − so translucent and dewy, it appeared as if she had walked out of the ocean ... again. Athena rolled her eyes.

Aphrodite raised an eyebrow. “You called for me while I was bathing. What did you expect?” She draped herself over one of the chaises as she squeezed droplets of water onto thefloor.

“Do you mind?” Athena glanced at the water on thefloor.

“Not at all.” Aphrodite dismissed with a wave of her hand and a sharp smile. Anyone who believed the Goddess of Love was anything less than a savage was afool.

“Why have you called for me? The owl didn’tsay.”

“Tell me of your son, Phobos of Fear. Does he still follow his father, Ares, around like aschoolboy?”

A warmth invaded Aphrodite’s eyes. For all her petty, vengeful behaviour with lovers, there was one thing Athena could not deny her and that was that she loved her children.

“He and his twin brother are terrors − quite literally − but yes they still follow their father. Why do youask?”

Athena relayed the conversation she had had with the Fates, the tapestry they had shown her, and the creeping fear spreading through the humans. Aphrodite hissed out a breath between pursed, rosy-red lips that were often laughing. Right now they were not. “I am afraid, dear sister, Phobos is not capable of such afeat.”

“I thought as much.”

The sisters shared a grim look. For while it was common knowledge that Athena was a goddess of war, many did not know how well-versed in the art of war Aphrodite was.

“You know the human scope of emotion better than anyone. After all, it was you who gifted them with emotional intelligence. Tell me, Aphrodite, how would you stopit?”

The Goddess of Love continued biting her full lower lip. “In truth, the only way I can see their own fear being eradicated is if they alchemiseit.”

“Intowhat?”

“All emotions transmute into their opposites. Sadness to joy, anger to acceptance, fear to love,” Aphrodite explainedimpatiently.

“This is your remitthen.”

“Yes,” Aphrodite said, rising to stand at the opposite end of the table to Athena. “But you know the ruling. Hera is still on a warpath and I, for one, would prefer to avoidher.”

Athena scowled. “Surely you can put aside petty title squabbles forthis?”

“It’s not petty,” Aphrodite countered petulantly. “Our stepmother might not like me being associated with the Queen of Heaven when she wants the title for herself, but that gave her no right to demand Zeus have me married off to that … ogre.”

Athena’s scowl turned into a savage smile and a bark of a laugh. “Oh yes, how is that wretch of a husband ofyours?”

“Just as wretched as you remember.”

For while Hephaestus was currently married to Aphrodite, she had not been the first sister he’d had his eye on. Originally, he had been after Athena. But Athena − cunning, brilliant Athena − had vanished from their marital bed before it was consummated. Aphrodite, on the other hand, had experienced what she liked to call ‘a momentary lapse of judgement’. After Hera had caved to her son’s demands − and who fell for such a stupid trick as to be stuck to a throne? − Zeus had demanded Aphrodite be married off to Hephaestus as per his request. Her father had tried to reason that it would prevent other gods from fighting over her, but Aphrodite had liked other gods doing that. Still, she preened at the attention from Hephaestus at first. He may not have been the most attractive god, but he had lathered her with honour and attention, and when he had presented her with a beautifully adorned, saltire-shaped girdle that accentuated her breasts and enhanced her beauty, she had agreed to consummate the marriage.

It had been many moons − and lovers − since they had been that happy and Hephaestus’ attitude now matched his ugly exterior. Aphrodite couldn’t bear it, but she could bear agrudge.

“I blame you, you know,” she said, laughing. “If Zeus had not borne you out of his head, Hera would have never felt the need to bear that greatheffalump.”

Athena shrugged. “She says she loves me. Until she says or does otherwise, I’ll choose to use that to myadvantage.”

“What Hera feels for you is not love. She tolerates you as Zeus’ favourite.”

Athena let out a small smile at the acknowledgement she thought her sister couldn’t see. They weren’t sisters in truth, which is perhaps why Aphrodite could make the remark without seething in jealousy, unlike the rest of their siblings. She was technically Athena’s great aunt, but politics in the family were rife and so she had been “adopted” by Zeus to keep the lineage all neat and tidy. No one could tell the difference anyway, for Aphrodite’s skin was as pure a white as milk and with a glow that made her look ever-fertile. She would never look heryears.

“Regardless of how I feel about Hera,” Aphrodite continued, “and even if we did ignore the ruling that we can’t meddle in the affairs of humans anymore, I can only gift them love. It won’t transmute the fear. It will just mean they hold both at once. What you need is analchemist.”

Athena nodded in understanding. Hera had, more specifically, forbidden her husband from actively participating in the human realm, given his penchant for other beautiful women. She hated how Zeus had petted over them, cosseted them. The nymphs had been bad enough, but to keep follying with the humans? No, to that she’d put her foot down. But, so as not to embarrass him, Hera had made the decree for all Greek gods and goddesses alike. It had been in place for the last two thousand years, give or take a couple of extra centuries, for time meant little to immortals. Of course, that hadn’t stopped Zeus or any of the rest of them meddling, but the decree had been declared as a rule in Olympus, nonetheless.

The unspoken rule remained. If you were going to meddle in the affairs of humans, it had to go unnoticed. It was why the humans didn’t believe in them, the gods, anymore.

There was a quick three-tap knock on the door.

“Enter.”

A wizened older woman shuffled into the room. Her hair, the colour of straw and curls cropped close to her head, was held together by a woven band that was detailed with snakes and olive branches intertwined and spoke of how she held the office of High Priestess for Athena.

“Ah Lysia, your arrival couldn’t be any moreopportune.”

“My Lady, I come with matters of state you have been asked to oversee.” She walked over to Athena’s desk by the arched window closest to Athena and placed the papers exactly in the order of importance and in a precise spot so as not to disturb anything else on the desk. She then stepped back and bowed deeply to both goddesses.

“You would think,” Athena muttered, “that after the Romans ransacked my office and we relocated here, I would have less to dealwith.”

“I’ve taken care of most of it, my lady. Your keen eye to make sure all is as it should be, as well as your seal, is all that isrequired.”

“Ah Lysia, must you take your leave this season? You truly are one of the most adept high priestesses to hold my office.” In truth, she was the tenth in her family to take the title of High Priestess. Athena would mourn her stepping away, but already Lysia’s daughter was training to take her place so that she might have a reprieve. She had certainly earnedit.

“I will leave you in capable hands, I promise. Is there anything else I can do for you, mylady?”

“Actually there is.” Athena pinned her with an eerie stare, and despite their relationship and her slight shuffle, from old bones weary from work, Lysia stood column straight with rigid shoulders as a soldier might stand to attention. “Do we have any in the Athenai sisterhood who are skilledalchemists?”

The High Priestess closed her eyes momentarily, stepping into a mind palace of archives. So great was the depth and breadth of this woman’s knowledge, Athena didn’t so much as appear startled when she received a reply.

“I will have to confirm with the parchment records, but I believe you have one who travelled to study under Circe, the firstwitch.”

“Who?”

“Amara.”

“Amara ... I know that name. Why do I know that name?” Aphroditeinterrupted.

“I believe she also served at one time under you, my lady.” Lysia inclined her head in acknowledgement. This did startle the two sisters, and Athena’s bright eyes swivelled to a woman whose intellect was as sound as her judgement.

“You are sure, Lysia?”

“Almost certain, my lady. What’s more, she also had a brief stint in Artemis’ court.”

Aphrodite let out a sharp whistle between perfect pearly teeth. “How did she manage to serve under each of us without the others ever knowing?”

Priestesses were allowed to serve under whichever deity they chose, but to serve as a priestess was to find favour with the goddess you chose and to serve her for the period of time agreed. Most chose to serve only one for the span of her natural born life, when they were allowed to take mortals for priestesses, but there were the occasional immortal priestesses that could find such favour that, should she wish to be released, her lady would grant her those privileges.

“That I do not know. But she clearly has a steel spine if she could maintain her chastity after her stint in your court before cultivating courage in my war rooms,” Athena said. For she would not have taken on a priestess whose maidenhood had been broken and Aphrodite was known to lavish her ladies with desires of the flesh as much as she was to dote on them with beauty and material gifts when they foundfavour.

“I remember her now,” Aphrodite nodded gracefully. “Oh, she was a delight. A beautiful creature too, if I remembercorrectly.”

“Someone who can hold polar opposites with such ease as to go unnoticed amongst the goddesses’ courts must surely be a talented alchemist.” Lysia looked at the two goddessespointedly.

“You are right as ever, Lysia. Fetch her for me, would you?” Athena asked. The High Priestess bowed in acquiescence and excused herself from the room. When she left, silence stretched across the table between the two sisters. Eventually, Aphrodite spoke.

“You always strategise better when you think out loud,” she admonished Athena. “I can practically feel your thoughts bursting against your head as Ispeak.”

That head, which was usually adorned with a gold-plated Corinthian helmet, was free today, Athena’s bronzed and honey-coloured hair falling in loose curls around hershoulders.

Athena blew out a sharp breath. “There is one major problem with sending an alchemist toEarth.”

“Whichis?”

“To send Amara to teach the humans alchemy, we would have to get her in a humanbody.”

Aphrodite stared at her blankly and Athena sighed infrustration.

“How do you get an immortal in a mortal body? We can transfigure them into just about anything. We can turn ourselves into mortal form for a time, but I have never placed an immortal soul into a human body. Haveyou?”

Aphrodite pursed her lips while a cute furrow appeared between perfectly manicured eyebrows. She could not say she had. For it had never been done before. Prometheus had shaped their original bodies from clay, sealed them with Zeus’ spittle and sintered them with the white fire of knowledge. Athena had breathed life into them and Aphrodite had gifted them with emotionalintellect.

“You could strip her from her immortal skin and build a new mortal body around her.”

Athena paused, tapping out a rhythm with her fingers on the table as she considered it.

“It’s brutal but it could work. How would we get her to agree to itthough?”

Aphrodite shrugged. Athena despaired at how mercurial she couldbe.

“Being gifted with a task of this magnitude by her lieges shows an incredible level of trust. What more could she want? It’s the highest honour we cangive.”

“She might not want to be stripped of her immortality,” Athenareasoned.

Aphrodite made a back-handed shooing motion in the air. “We can put her back if we claim her task is an apotheosis. After all, humankind will be benefited by her actions, no?”

“A rite of passage where she reclaims immortality she alreadyhas?”

“We could strip her of it simply for the fact she fooled each of us by omission by serving in three different temples.”

“You know there is no spoken rule that says she cannot do that.” The timbre of Athena’s voice held a warning.

“An unspoken rule is still arule.”

“No, that is not fair or just.”

Aphrodite rolled her eyes. “Fairness is not the judge of allfates.”

“It is in this room. No, I will appeal to her sense of duty. Like you so eloquently stated, the act is an honour. Perhaps we could reward her with more than her immortality should she completeit.”

There was another brief pause as Aphrodite considered her sister’s proposal before nodding.

“Kleos, a gift of glory, to cement her place in Olympic history. Yes, I will think of a suitablereward.”

“Good. In the meantime, we shall need help with the human vessel to put her in. Let us pray that Prometheus is in the mood for anaudience.”

Aphrodite laughed and, unlike her sister’s bark, it was a trillion trills that reminded anyone in its vicinity of tiny bells ringing. “That man is never in the mood for anaudience.”