The two-headed Desmyr lingered before the villa doors, waiting. Their hunched body sagged under the weight of a great hump, and opening their eyes seemed to take immense effort. Thick yellow gunk clung to their eyelids, stretching into stringy bars before snapping back into place as they blinked.
“Look, the portal is ready,” the left head said as she pointed with a withered hand.
Ceto's focus peeled off the stooped escort and travelled to the swirling black hole just ahead. It would lead straight to Olympus. The very top of the mountain. To Zeus himself.
I don’t want to go.
I don’t want to go.
I don’t want to go.
The words clanged in Ceto’s head as she remained fused to the spot. Sweat dripped down her temple, and her stomach twisted with nausea despite having only tea that afternoon. Pressing her eyes shut, she drew the content of Phorcys’ letter to mind.
Before the ritual, drink the elixir in private and destroy the vial.
I am sorry. I am sorry.
Forgive me for bringing this shame and suffering upon you.
Burn this letter.
“You are soon to meet your merciful benefactor.” The second head’s voice was harsh and scolding. “Why the reluctance? Where is your gladness?”
“I—” Ceto gulped and took her first damning step forward. “Yes.” She flashed a shaky smile. “I am glad.”
Consuming the elixir had cleared some fog off her mind, making her recall what had happened that forced Phorcys to defy his punishment and use his powers. Medusa had done something strange, something that had to do with Athena.
Ceto suspected the elixir affected her mind and body in some way. Since Phorcys said nothing about why she was taking it, she moved with blind trust. Not that she trusted the Moirai; no. Phorcys could tell her to burn for eternity, and she would do it. The humiliation she was about to face was nothing—nothing. At least, she'd see his real face and touch his real body.
Still… still, dread and disgust gnawed at the fringes of her mind. She did not wish to see Zeus. The deities gathered. All that watching and mocking commentary. There was no humiliation deeper than what she was about to face, but…
At least I’ll see his real face. How many times in the past two hundred years? She attempted to count with her fingers but stopped when her mind revolted.
Remembering too much brought nothing but pain and madness.
Ceto shivered as she trailed after the Desmyr, then she bade Galene, who still lingered at the door, farewell before stepping into the portal.
Unlike portal doors, the Desmyr's portal offered instant travel. One moment, she was in Hesperides, and the next, she stood before the steps leading to Zeus’ palace.
The sun was up and gentle on the skin. It was early morning here, unlike the late evening in Hesperides. And deities were standing in clusters in what looked like a garden party. All conversation paused as they looked in her direction, then whispers erupted. Zeus must have sent invites.
Dragging in a fortifying breath, Ceto mirrored the Desmyr's measured gait up the steps while fighting not to fidget under the weight of their stares.
The building ahead was the grandest in all of Olympus. The impossible height of it. The towering pillars. Lush trees and gardens to the left and right. Twin colossal statues that weren't always statues. There had been a terrible war at the beginning…
War at the beginning? Ceto frowned as the memory danced at the edge of her consciousness but remained elusive.
She dumped her train of thought when they reached the doors. They silently swung open, and Zeus’ aura, dense and oppressive, slammed into her, causing her to stagger before she quickly found her balance.
Resisting the urge to hug herself and hunch, Ceto straightened her spine and trailed after the Desmyr. Ahead was another door that opened to a great hall with crimson marble flooring that reflected the high ceiling. The walls were blinding white, and to her left and right were portal doors, each leaking waves of energy that made Ceto's skin crawl.
Upon passing one of the doors, Ceto staggered to a stop when she felt it. Screeches that went off in her head, calling her. In a daze, she turned and took a step in its direction.
“What is it?” One of the heads swivelled her long tortoise-like neck, seeming to glare at Ceto through her tightly shut eyes.
“I… It's nothing.” Bunching her gown in a trembling fist, Ceto continued ahead.
The closer Ceto drew to the empty throne ahead, the more her terror spiked as she recalled even more details of the shame she was about to experience. First, they would get Phorcys, then move them to the hall. Gods seated in the shadows, watching.
A harsh shiver racked her body, every cell begging her to flee. But she had no choice. This was the consequence of disloyalty. Adding disobedience to that was an unthinkable sin.
Ceto’s palm grew sweaty as her heartbeat tripled. I don't want to be here. Any god out there? Moirai? Nyx! Even… even Gaia. Help me.
Zeus appeared so suddenly that it took Ceto a moment to realise he was physically present and not some twisted vision in answer to her prayer. That same small body that visited the villa days ago. Fathomless red eyes that peered at Ceto like he could see her very soul.
Ceto fell to her knees in reflex. It took great effort not to hunch or hug herself. Even if she no longer perceived his aura, there was a sharpness in the air. Was he still angry? What was she asking? Of course, he was furious. He was always enraged at the house of Phorcys. Ever unforgiving.
“Our great liberator,” the heads said in unison and bowed. “We have brought her.”
“Leave.” The single word reverberated across the hall, bouncing around and shaking Ceto's soul.
The Desmyr bowed again, summoned a portal and vanished into it.
Silence stretched between them. Ceto bit down hard and struggled not to weep for mercy. There was a harrowing feeling that she might break.
“Your child. The mortal one.”
Ceto snapped her attention ahead. He was off his throne and casually took the steps down the dais, a physical change occurring with each movement.
No. No. No. The youngest version of Zeus may be cold and weary of speech, but his older versions were tempestuous, vile and exceedingly lecherous.
She stared wide-eyed as Zeus morphed into a teenager, a young adult, and on and on until he was large, full-bearded, and sporting happy red eyes.
“Ah, my lovely rose. How are you so thin?” He lumbered over, arms spread as if to embrace her, then grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her like she was a doll.
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Too terrified to speak, Ceto could only stare as her breathing grew even more laboured. And there was another frantic part of her, a part that noticed something deeply unpleasant. This was the second time Zeus had asked for Medusa in mere days.
When Ceto said nothing, Zeus' voice grew stern. “I believe I asked a question?”
Ceto opened her mouth, but was filled with terror and useless rage to speak. Weren't they satisfied already? They would take the child when she turned thirteen. Why ask for her now? They always took her babies and turned them into monsters. But Medusa was mortal. She shuddered to imagine what Athena had planned for her.
And to Ceto's great sorrow, the child possessed the curse of uncommon beauty. It terrified her to imagine what she’d face if she left the nest—
“Your reluctance to speak angers me.” His voice was sharp with impatience, yet his cheerful eyes held a twisted glint. He resembled a perverted jolly grandfather.
“Please… let me go.”
“Ah.” Zeus expressed surprise, as if he had just noticed he had been holding her up while squeezing her shoulders. Releasing her, he caressed her jaw and smiled. “Answer my question, Rose.”
There was no way Zeus was unaware of Medusa’s location; that he asked must mean his plans concerning using the child as part of his punishment may have changed. Perhaps, if I plead.
“At Phorcydes,” Ceto finally managed to say. “Please—”
A wave of his hand, and the environment changed. The thick metallic smell in the air stuffed Ceto's nostrils and burned on its way down.
If she recalled correctly, this should be a chamber in the Hall of Recompense.
Ceto sensed Zeus’ presence looming behind her before he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look ahead. Like a veil suddenly torn off her sight, she saw Phorcys.
“No.” The word came as a groan, her heart twisting as it sank.
Even though his hair covered his face, Ceto recognised him. This was no host created from an unwilling sacrifice, but Phorcys in the flesh. He stood as if fused to the ground with long chains from a humming rock floating behind him hooked through the flesh of his arms, back and calves.
“Admirable even in his disloyalty.” Zeus walked around Ceto and stooped to her height. “He still says nothing of the Moiria.” He flashed an encouraging smile and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Say, do you know the location of her domain?”
Unable to find her voice, Ceto shook her head. This has happened before, too. The last—
Zeus snatched her by the back of the neck and squeezed. Still, his eyes remained bright with happiness. “Do you think I'm unaware he took over the host?”
Ceto's knees grew weak, but his iron grip remained, holding her up. “I…I…” No words will come out.
“Perhaps, what happened ten years ago taught you nothing.” He tutted.
Ceto had never been more confused, distraught and terrified all at once. She felt like a child thrust into an adult conversation and expected to give sensible input. Many things she should know were missing, and there were other flashes of memories. The same series of questions. The humiliation that eventually brought about the birth of Medusa.
Gathering every courage, Ceto finally spoke. “I don't know where her domain is.”
“Then you leave me no choice.” Ceto crumbled to her knees when Zeus released her.
He strolled in Phorcys’ direction. “Athena, that lovely child of mine, has grown… concerned.”
Caving, Ceto hugged herself and hunched, wishing with all her heart to disappear with her husband.
“She wishes to speed up the collection of your mortal child.”
“But you said—” Gulping, Ceto tried again, fighting to be brave. “You said until she's thirteen.”
Stopping next to Phorcys, Zeus faced Ceto. “That was before your husband broke the pact and killed an Owl to hide things from me.”
Zeus shifted to a younger version, at least thirty-five years old in appearance. Violence burned in his eyes as he glared at Phorcys' frozen form. “Even imprisoned, he seeks to deceive me. Dares to challenge the one who gave him life!” His voice thundered through the space and formed cracks across the ground.
“Since when did he take over the host?” He spat as he shifted his glare to Ceto. “Speak the truth.”
Ceto whimpered where she knelt, her bones arching under the pressure of his mounting rage. All that filled her head since the last humiliation had been living with the host that looked and acted like Phorcys. Perhaps there had been a slight change on the morning of Medusa’s birthday, but Ceto would never tell Zeus that.
“Answer me!”
The blast of his voice hit Ceto like a club to the head. She bowed, trembling harder. “I don't know.” Tears fell. She was ashamed, but she couldn't stop the flow. “I beg you. I plead with all my heart. Spare my child. Forgive my husband. Please.”
Her first son, a beautiful child with the vibrant eyes of his father, had been snatched away, never to be seen, and her daughters were given to Athena to be morphed into… into monsters. Now they seek her youngest. And if the humiliation went as the last four others had, another child would come and suffer.
I want it to end. Please, make it stop.
“Father,” called a feminine voice to Ceto's left.
Ceto looked in time to see Athena emerge from the shadows.
She grabbed Zeus’ hand with both of hers, expression imploring as she gazed at his face. “Please, calm your rage, Father.”
When Athena met Ceto's eyes, she smiled and waved as if the scene before her were as normal as the weather outside. “You look lovely, Ceto. How are your children?”
Too weak to feel insulted or enraged, Ceto blinked at her, saying nothing.
“Ceto’s mind is unstable,” Athena said. “Getting answers will be impossible.” She took a knee. “All I ask is that the child be given to me now. I fear that the longer she stays with her aunt—”
“No!” Drawing from the dregs of her power, Ceto flashed forward and lay prostrate. She dared to grab Zeus by the ankle, following the ancient tradition of offering the deepest supplication. “I swear! I swear to do anything. Please do not take her from me yet. I beg you.” Her tears fell on his foot as she held on. “I'll do anything,” she whispered. “I swear.”
“Father, do not be swayed by—”
“Enough, Athena.” It was Zeus' much younger voice.
He touched her shoulders, forcing Ceto to let go of his now smaller ankle and look up. His straight white hair framed his face as he peered at her with emotionless eyes. “You said you'll do anything?”
Ceto nodded vigorously. “Anything.”
“Then be one of my generals.”
Ceto blanched at the same time Athena gasped. Then she glared at Ceto with such violence that the air roasted with it.
Straightening, Zeus held his hands behind his back and shifted his focus to Phorcys. “I'll even end the humiliation.”
“Father!”
Zeus looked at Athena, though his expression did not change, the air crackled with lightning energy. “I have allowed your excesses because other parts of me seem fond of you.” He cocked his head and continued to observe her flatly. “Have you learned?”
“Yes, Father.” She nodded stiffly and stared ahead stonily. Though her composure had returned, anger simmered around her.
Turning back to Ceto, Zeus lifted a white brow. “What do you say?”
Still stunned, Ceto stammered, “I-I have no combat ability…” Her words faded when Zeus frowned, the expression odd on his usually passive face.
“Not all my generals fight. You should know.” He strolled over to Phorcys’ side and beckoned her over. “Come.”
Ceto’s tears flowed harder as she took in Phorcys’ state. The wounds from the hooks remained in a perpetual bleeding state, and something was pouring into him from the floating rock. Though his eyes were open, it was filmed over, giving the appearance of blindness.
Everything was ruined. Even if she accepts Zeus’ offer, Phorcys may never forgive her when he comes to. She'd be fuelling what he was fighting against. And were three more years with her daughter worth it? Many gods would salivate at the opportunity to become a general, but it felt like a dreadful bargain despite the gaps in Ceto’s memory.
This woman is weak and foolish, Phorcys. I don't know what to do. My mind is useless. Your note said nothing of this possibility. Tell me what to do. Ceto hoped that by some miracle her dilemma would break through the prison of his mental suffering. Give me an answer.
“Unlike the oldest, I have no desire to witness such a crude display of copulation,” Zeus continued in a monotone. “Even though such unions bore fruit, I've seen no real use of your children.” He gave Athena a pointed look. “And the one who receives the most benefit from your children seems to have grown greedy.”
“I would never, Father!” Athena shouted and took a knee once more, bowing her head. “Your generosity towards me is—”
“Cease the sycophancy. I see you clearly than the rest.” Turning from Athena, Zeus grabbed one of the chains holding Phorcys and harshly tugged it.
Ceto bit back a cry of protest as the wound in Phorcys’ arm ripped open and leaked even more blood. But he remained frozen, not even a twitch in response.
“So here is my offer,” Zeus continued calmly. “Instead of having him for a shameful moment and taking a host home, I shall release him to you.”
The shock of the statement was so great that Ceto gawked, unsure if she had heard right.
“Father, surely you—”
Zeus slid a threatening gaze in Athena's direction.
Gasping, Athena fell to both knees and bowed deeply. “I swear upon the Monolith to remain silent.”
Seemingly assuaged, Zeus looked at Ceto. “His time in the Hall of Recompense shall end this day if you agree.”
Zeus’ words instantly pulverised every shadow of hesitation in Ceto’s mind; she could consider nothing but the possibility of Phorcys’ freedom. “What must I do?”
“Your blood,” Zeus said. “I'll need a constant supply of that blessed blood of yours. Forever.”
and her husband. Another time, he turned into a bull to get some. While crafting his character, I had to think hard about not making him one-dimensional. I hope I succeed with that as the story progresses.
Anyhoo, I wrote three openings for this chapter and dumped them cause I'd be writing useless scenes that do nothing but satisfy my curiosity. That's why this came in late; that and procrastination. *triple sigh*
Do tell me what you think of the story so far.
My heart is with paperbacks, but the convenience of reading with my phone or laptop has me in a chokehold.
Until next Saturday.
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