Chapter 8

8

Alcides

T rickles of sweat glisten on Nemea’s skin in the morning light, rivulets tracking through the dust that settled from her blast through the wall. I’m too stunned to speak as she strides away with purpose. She’s fierce, more of a force of nature than I imagined after tearing through stone like it was paper. The sight of her round backside departing sets my heart racing in a way that’s too complex to untangle right now.

My first introduction to her was the glimpse I had while she was tangled up with Typhon and Asterius, seemingly a victim to their whims, though it was clear she was enjoying herself. Prior to that, my desire for her was merely an awareness in the back of my mind that took root the moment we learned of the Titans’ escape and Pan’s disappearance from the prison.

I’d never felt that pull to another creature before, not even my long-dead wife when we first met. As much as it pains me to admit, my attempt at domesticity was an effort to escape the debauched life of a god. My legacy at the time, it seemed, was to be my father’s son, and I wanted no part of it.

There’s a new pull now, though, and it isn’t to Nemea. This is at least familiar to me in a way that wrenches my heart. Before I murdered them in a rage incited by a bitter goddess, my sons were my entire world. Their loss left an emptiness I’ve carried ever since. And while Nemea may be the missing half of my soul, the hole in my heart cannot be filled so easily. I want to fill it. But where do I begin?

Turning to Eleutheria, I’m at a loss for words, still dumb after Nemea’s display and doubly so with this monumental introduction. How do you start a conversation with someone you’ve only just learned exists? Someone who’s lived thousands of years without you? The weight of missed time presses down on me like the labors I once bore.

Eleutheria glances at me, her expression open and unburdened by the same tangled emotions that knot inside me. Her strength is apparent, not just in the lean muscle of her frame, but in the steady gaze she offers, so much like her mother’s. Her hair is lighter, like mine, and her eyes are a shade of blue that reminds me of my mother’s eyes, from the sparse memories I retain of her before my father spirited me away to Olympus.

“Hello, Father,” she says as if she’s always known me.

I find my voice at last. “Hello, Eleutheria. I am... Alcides.”

She smiles faintly, the first hint of uncertainty at this meeting. “I know who you are.”

“Right,” Hippolyta says, as if the introductions are sufficiently settled. “Let’s go eat. You two can get acquainted over breakfast.” She takes our daughter by the arm, and they head up the path. I quickly stride forward and fall into step beside them, grasping for anything to start getting acquainted with my daughter.

“I’ve missed a lot,” I say, my voice gruff with emotions. The statement strikes me as ludicrous, and I let out a soft snort. “I’ve missed everything .”

“You’re here now.” Eleutheria shrugs. “That’s what matters.”

Her forgiveness is a gift I’m not sure I deserve, but one I accept gratefully. “I want to be part of your life... if you’ll have me.”

“We’ll see,” she says, hedging. But there’s warmth there. A start.

We walk toward the mess hall together in silence, my mind racing with all the things I want to say and ask. But for now, this is enough—just walking beside her.

Melanippe leads Nemea ahead of us, and though my eyes are drawn to Nemea’s powerful stride—a confidence she didn’t have even a day ago—I force myself to focus on Eleutheria. My heart tugs in two directions: the protective pull of fatherhood, and an undeniable attraction to Nemea that defies explanation.

Eleutheria breaks into my thoughts. “She’s something else,” she says with a nod toward Nemea.

“Yeah,” I agree, pride swelling within me at Nemea’s display of strength. “She sure is.”

We reach the mess hall where the scent of fresh bread and sizzling bacon fills the air. My stomach growls, but it’s the last thing on my mind as we step inside together.

Heads turn when I cross the threshold, more than a hundred eyes settling on me at once, whispers erupting from around the room. I stop in the doorway, letting Hippolyta and Eleutheria move ahead of me. This is not a place for men, and for the first time I’m painfully aware of how out of place I am.

Hippolyta moves to the center of the room and raises a hand; the room falls silent.

“This man is here as my guest. He is Ele’s father, Alcides. He’ll be staying with us for a week only. But the reason for his arrival is one everyone here needs to know. My most senior warriors have already felt the ripples of a shift in power. Entities as old as time have risen from the bowels of Tartarus, where Alcides has served as guard these many centuries. Four Titans have broken free of the prison and returned to the mortal world. These are no mere men, and if they are not brought to heel, their power may yet exceed that of most gods. The destruction they could wreak on our world is indescribable. We must prepare for a battle the likes of which we haven’t seen in millennia.”

Nemea has already made a beeline for an empty seat between two women I saw leaving the training field when Hippolyta and I passed by. She flashes an apprehensive look at me over a bite of toast, then at Hippolyta. But Hippolyta makes no mention of the new trainee here, or her power, nor the expectation that she will likely be the weapon to help us win this battle.

The alarmed murmurs rise in volume until Mel places fingers between her lips and emits a sharp whistle. Hippolyta nods her thanks and continues.

“Everyone, please gather at the amphitheater at sunset for a longer discussion on what this will mean for us. I have more to share, but now is not the time, nor is this the place. Please continue to enjoy your breakfast and the rest of your day.”

She directs me to a table at the far end of the dining hall, still empty but with bowls of food laid out down the center, waiting to be served. Antiope waits by one of the seats, along with their other sister, Penthesilea, and three other Amazons who seem familiar, but whose names I don’t recall. Hippolyta pulls out a chair and sits, and as if waiting for her, so do her sisters and the others.

“Areto, please let Alcides sit with us for today,” Hippolyta says to the Amazon seated to Eleutheria’s right. The stocky woman eyes me warily, but nods and moves to another table.

“What more is there to share?” Antiope asks. “Surely it isn’t that he intends to stay. You remember how that went before.”

“Water under the bridge, sister,” Hippolyta says, shooting me an apologetic look.

“Right. But we don’t need him to hang around in order to train the girl. He’ll just be a distraction if what he said last night is true.”

I grit my teeth, unwilling to cause a scene that would just serve to make me appear more threatening than I intend to be. But Eleutheria smacks her palms down on the table hard enough to make the heavy wood creak.

“Just stop, Antiope. He’s here for me as much as her. I have waited my entire life to meet him. If I want him here, he can stay, got it?”

“It truly is only through the week,” I finally say. “The Titans have cursed several dragons outside the Temple of Olympus. We have made a bargain to trade the key to the temple for lifting the curse. Tartarus and I must be there, with the key, at the end of the week to fulfill our end of the bargain.”

“That doesn’t give us much time to prepare,” Antiope snaps.

“We didn’t exactly have any warning that they would escape,” I shoot back.

“And you’re just going to give them the key? We may as well just surrender now!”

My nostrils flare with my effort to hold back my ire at this insufferable woman. Antiope is a formidable warrior, but has never been a fan of mine.

“No,” I say in as even a tone as I can muster. “We intend to capture them and avert whatever destruction they plan to cause if they are given access to the Temple. The kernels of their power are locked within. Aside from their confrontation with the dragons, they’ve been lying low since escaping. That will change if they are allowed to reclaim their power. We won’t let that happen.”

Antiope’s continued scrutiny bites like a blade at my throat, but I don’t let it show. Instead I lean forward, my voice a low rumble that only those at the table can hear.

“We have a plan,” I begin, locking eyes with each of the women before me. “But for it to work, Nemea needs to be at her full potential. She’s more than just a trainee—more than just my fate. She’s a weapon.”

I keep to myself the fact that I still don’t know all the details of the plan, only that Vesh was working on them before I left. All I am sure of is that he still needs me to unlock the Temple, and I don’t intend to let him down, despite my betrayal in taking Nemea away from him. As far as I’m concerned, her desire to leave was his fault, and my loyalty is as much to her as it is to him.

I glance over to where Nemea sits, laughing now with the two women beside her. The sight of her relaxed and unguarded eases a tension in me I hadn’t realized was coiled so tight. She looks free. Relaxed. I only wish we didn’t need her to capture the Titans.

Antiope’s gaze follows mine. “We need to train Nemea quickly then,” she says.

Hippolyta nods. “She’ll be ready. If her display on the course is any indication, all she needs is a little discipline and her talents will be razor-sharp.”

My gaze lingers on Nemea again. Discipline isn’t the only thing she needs, but the women at this table don’t need to know that detail. For her to be at full power, she’ll need to complete her bonds with all the guards of Tartarus, including me.

“You’ll have to forgive Antiope,” Hippolyta says when the meal is finished and most of the residents have departed. Nemea has been commandeered again by Melanippe for more training, while Antiope has disappeared to go tend to the horses, which were always her preferred companions. Penthesilea and Eleutheria remain at the table with us.

“I hold no animosity toward your sister,” I say. “Even though I’ve done nothing to earn what she shows to me.”

Eleutheria shares a pointed look with her mother, who gives a curt shake of her head. Pen rises to clear the dishes as if this is her cue to disengage from the conversation.

“Shortly after you departed last time, she made a visit to the Temple of Zeus. She was still bitter over the bargain you and I made, and perhaps a little bit more so over the baby you left in my belly. She prayed to the god to teach you a lesson. To make you fail your next labor.”

I grimace at the thought of any woman willingly summoning my father to aid them. He always exacts a steep price for his favors. Hippolyta sees my reaction and shakes her head.

“Perhaps she thought that as our grandfather he would have some shred of affection for her and would grant this favor. But he is so far removed from his various progeny it’s unlikely the familial tie mattered to him.”

My skin prickles at the gravity in her tone. I know I’m not going to like what she says next.

“His price was her body, and when she changed her mind, he took what he wanted anyway.”

The ceramic mug in my grip cracks under the strain of my hand wanting to curl into a fist. It’s only Eleutheria’s hand on my arm that makes me ease up and take a breath.

“He did not deliver on their bargain,” I say. “I succeeded in stealing Gerylon’s herd. All the remaining labors I undertook after that were a success.”

Hippolyta’s lips are a tight line as she nods. “That was when we destroyed his temple. None of the gods are welcome here, and few of the goddesses. Being only slightly removed from him in stature and likeness, she is still reminded of that one bad decision when she sees you.”

“I am not my father,” I say, staring at my knuckles. I turn to Eleutheria. “I am not him,” I repeat with more vehemence. “Would that I could denounce our ties entirely, but I cannot. But I have undergone my own torture because of my blood. The best I can do is try to balance his heinous acts by doing good where I can. I had hoped serving Tartarus would help me atone, but all it has done is teach me that the gods are more capricious than ever in who they choose to sentence or let roam free. But if there is anything I am certain of, it’s that the Titans must not be allowed to.”

“It shouldn’t be your responsibility to make up for the wrong your father has done,” Eleutheria says. “You deserve freedom and happiness too. And from all the stories I have heard, you have more than earned it.”

I place my hand over hers and squeeze. “You’ve raised our daughter well, Poly,” I say, earning me a sad smile at my use of my old nickname for her.

“She’s her own woman now, and has been for a long time. Ele, why don’t you give your father a tour of the compound? He hasn’t seen it in a while. Just be back in time for the gathering tonight.”

“I will, Mother. Shall we go, Father?”

She rises and moves toward the door, and I follow, still uncertain whether I’ve earned the right for her to call me Father at all.