Alex woke to the spray of saltwater upon his face. He screamed and tried to jump up, but the shackles held him fast. Immediately, his eyes went to his torso, and he stared in disbelief at the wholeness of his midsection. Slowly, he tore his gaze away and looked about. The eagle, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen. He was, however, still bound to the very same slab of rock, on the very same side of the very same mountain. Only two things had changed in his predicament. First, a night sky loomed above, and second, an aged, hunchback man stood nearby, scowling at him.
“Alexander Weiss?”
“Yes,” Alex replied. “And you are?”
“Phorcys, God of the Sea, though many call me The Old Man,” he replied.
“Isn’t that Poseidon’s job?” Alex said, remembering a small amount of his Greek Mythology.
Phorcys’s eyes narrowed, and he made tiny, withered fists. “The deep will always be mine.”
“Please say I haven’t angered you too,” Alex said as his gut tightened. “I don’t think I can handle two of you after me.”
“No. You have not,” Phorcys replied. “But I shall no longer weather Athena’s games at the expense of my daughter and my sanity.”
Alex sighed with relief. “I don’t suppose you could get me out of these chains? My appreciation would know no bounds.”
Phorcys made a strange gesture in the air. After a brilliant flash of light, he changed into a hideous mix of crab, fish, and man. The Old Man extended a large claw, and with a few quick snaps, he cut Alex free.
Alex scampered away and knocked his head on a nearby rock. “What the holy hell?” he exclaimed. “You could at least warn someone before doing that.”
“You startle easily,” Phorcys commented. “Odd for a champion of Athena.”
“I think any normal person would, hero or not.”
“Doubtful,” the god replied. The Old Man slithered toward Alex on his elongated fish tail. “For a hero, you are nothing of the likes of Perseus. Strange, isn’t it, that she would pick you to steer the fate of a gorgon?”
“I’m not doing anything,” Alex said. “I want nothing to do with her.”
Phorcys expression soured, and he looked at Alex with skepticism. “Perhaps I should let you run off. I see no heroic qualities in you. Your body is weak. Your spirit lacks salt. And from what I hear, you are filled with hubris that borders on blasphemy. What could you possibly do of worth?”
“If it means getting away from Athena, I can’t do a damn thing,” he said. He had half a mind to bolt right there, but he hadn’t a clue where he was or where he’d go. “All I want to know is how to get out of here so I can put as much distance between me and her as possible.”
Phorcys drew back a corner of his mouth. “You think you can run from Athena?”
“I’m sure as hell going to try,” said Alex.
“Yes, I’m sure you’ll elude her for quite some time.” The Old Man said, shooing Alex off with a claw. “Go. Tempt fate and see if outwitting Athena is a course safe and true.”
“It has to be safer than staying here,” said Alex, glancing to the slab with a grimace and a shudder. He could still feel Aldora’s beak tear through him and remember the sickly, sweet smell to his innards. “Besides, I’m sure whatever pointless, meaningless errand she keeps alluding to is going to be a thousand times worse.”
“That pointless, meaningless errand is my daughter.”
Alex felt the color drain from his face. “Oh. I didn’t mean anything by that. I swear.”
“For your sake, I should think not.”
“Maybe I could help,” he said, hoping to smooth things over as quickly as he could since the gods seemed to be touchy on everything. “What seems to be the trouble?”
Phorcys looked warily at Alex. “My daughter needs a suitor, and only a hero would be up to such a task.”
“And?”
“And there is nothing more,” he said. He looked out over the ocean and made a sweeping gesture across its waters. “I can command it to ebb and flow at my whim. I can draw back its waters to expose the Abyss or summon creatures from those very depths to do my bidding. But I cannot control true love. No one can. Not even the gods.”
“Love is not something you control,” Alex said, sighing wishfully. His body relaxed, and a smile born from a longing heart spread over his face. “It’s a power that draws you in. Shapes you. Controls you. It’s the sweet notes of whispers between a couple, the prestissimo charge of lovers reunited, and everything in between. Your daughter only wants what we all dream of, in one form or another.”
The Old Man’s face softened, ever so slightly. “Maybe you do know the waters she seeks.”
“I know them,” Alex said, leaning against a rock and letting himself slip back to days long gone, days when Jessica stole his breath and consumed his every thought with her adorable freckle face. But as much as he wanted to indulge himself in thinking about the past, he knew he had to return to the present and deal with the god before him. “For your daughter, would I have to find her someone to marry, or would a date suffice?”
“A courtship would be acceptable,” The Old Man answered. “Provided the other was serious about pursuing a relationship with Euryale. Woe to he that hurts my daughter.”
“That’s it?” Alex asked. “He doesn’t need to be anything else? A god? Demigod? Rich? Powerful? Doctor? Warrior? Sea Captain?”
“No,” Phorcys said. There was hesitation in his voice. “Euryale will tell you who she wants.”
“Might I ask why she’s having trouble finding someone to begin with?”
“Mostly it’s a matter of her appearance.” The Old Man admitted. “Some have had, how I shall say this, bad reactions to her…substantial looks.”
“She’s a big girl?”
“Man-sized.”
“No, I meant is she excessively overweight? Not that it matters, but I know some people are self-conscious about such things.”
“Not at all,” The Old Man answered. “She’s as streamlined as the mako and twice as strong.”
“But she looks like a shark,” Alex guessed. Maybe it was only her teeth, he hoped. If so, Alex did know a few dentists that could work miracles. But then again, her dad was crab-fish-man. Miracles might not be enough.
Phorcys shook his head. “Not at all.”
Alex rubbed his chin as he tried to pick his next words carefully. “But you’re saying she’s not the most beautiful girl in the world?”
“Before mortals even dreamed of taking to sails, she and her sisters were the envy of many.”
“Ah, that’s it then,” Alex said with a smile. He was glad that the problem was now identified. “Age isn’t a problem anymore, not in this day. There are plenty of people out there with a cake full of candles that are looking to meet that special someone, wrinkles and all.”
“She’s immortal,” Phorcys replied. “Her skin has not aged a day since she matured. The problem is with her vipers.”
“She has snakes?”
“Yes, they are—”
Alex waved his hand and cut in. “Snakes shouldn’t be a problem. Are they dangerous?”
“Yes, but—”
Alex waved his hand again, proud that he finally understood it all. “No, I get it. She has a bunch of poisonous snakes for pets, and they scare off her prospects.”
Phorcys nodded slowly. “In a manner of speaking, but—”
“No need to explain,” Alex said. Confidence soared within and exuded in his voice and posture. “I can do this. A nice eligible herpetologist and we’re all set. The last thing I want is you feeling like you need to make excuses for your daughter.”
“There are no excuses. Only facts.”
“If I can find the perfect girl for John Puller, a marine more obsessed with finding the best way to kill a thousand men than remembering to open the door for a girl, I can find a date for your daughter,” Alex said. “What do I get in return when I succeed?”
“Are you agreeing to my request?”
“I’m leaning that way. What do I get in return?”
“You’ll have enough of my gratitude that I’ll see to it you have a companion when you return to the fields of asphodel in the Underworld. A dog, perhaps, to keep you company. A much more agreeable existence you’ll find than being a shade without companionship or purpose for all of eternity.”
Alex cringed at the thought, and he hoped he could sweeten the deal. “Any chance at getting a little extra?”
Phorcys motioned to the slab with a pincer. “Your extra will be Athena will keep you free from those chains and Aldora’s beak, provided your tongue is kept in check.”
Alex looked at The Old Man, back to the rock and chains, and then to The Old Man once more. “Sounds fair.”
“A wise choice.” Phorcys smiled, moving closer. “Now, there is one more matter to address.”
“What’s that?” Alex asked. Not liking the sound in The Old Man’s voice, Alex retreated a few steps. Unfortunately, those were all that were to be had, and Alex found himself pressed against a rock wall.
Phorcys closed the distance. “Athena wants your body back. Hades would be irate if he knew you were inhabiting it again.”
Before Alex could even think about protesting the remark, Phorcys struck him on the side of the head.
* * *
Upon Ares’ request, the chess rematch was moved to one of the open courtyards in Olympus. There, both he and Athena sat next to a large fountain and basked in the warm sunlight. Ares insisted on it because he claimed the light would, “stimulate his tactical thought.” Unlike the first game, Ares played white, and Athena played black. In seven moves, Ares had lost a rook. Four more after that, he lost both of his knights while taking only one of hers. Six moves later, Ares’ position wasn’t any better. Some might say it was worse.
“These surroundings are not conducive to combat,” Ares said with a weary voice. “Our battle should’ve been moved to the armory where I can get in the mood for conquest. Not out here where puffy clouds and the smell of spring seek to weaken my resolve.”
Athena looked up from her book on 20th century existentialism and caught her brother adjusting the position of one of his pieces. “I loathe bringing this up, dear brother,” she said, “but if you touch a piece, you have to move it.”
“I am aware of the rules,” he snapped, pulling his hand back. “You knocked it aside on your last turn.”
“Then I apologize,” she said and returned to her reading. She knew her hand hadn’t graced that side of the board in over an hour, but she found her brother’s frustrations amusing, and his excuses more so. “It was only meant as a harmless comment.”
“Keep your comments to yourself. They’re distracting.”
Athena marked her place in the book with a finger and closed it. “You’ve been distracted this entire game. I had nothing to do with it.”
“I have to be somewhere soon,” he explained. “Somewhere more important than here with this silly game.”
“Oh? Did you finally find a war to join?”
Ares picked up his king and castled, queen side. “No, I have to see someone.”
“Who? Dad?”
“No,” he replied. “Someone else. It’s your turn.”
“Ah,” Athena said. A large smile grew on her face. No one, save Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, was ever referred to in such an aloof manner by her brother. “Back to having an affair I see.”
“It’s not like that.”
“What else would you call it? Better yet, what would Hephaestus call it?”
“Quiet, woman. Lest my wrath spill on to you.”
Athena laughed and slid her queen across the board, creating an absolute pin on Ares’ sole bishop. “At the very least, I hope you two are more discreet than last time.”
Ares stared at the chess board. Minutes passed, and he neither replied nor moved an inch. Ares reached out, hesitated, and shot out of his chair. “Who let your human in here?”
Athena spun and scanned the courtyard. “Alex? Here?”
“Oh, never mind,” the God of War said. He sat back down and made his move. “It’s Hermes.”
Athena turned back and studied the board. Aside from the rook Ares had moved, another piece, a pawn, was out of place. Her brother was also trying—unsuccessfully—to maintain a poker face. “I should probably be going,” she said. “I need to check on Alex to make sure he’s dealing with Euryale as per our agreement. Phorcys said he could motivate him, but I have my doubts. Perhaps we should end things here?”
“Resigning?”
“Offering a draw. I’d like to grab something to eat before I get moving.”
Ares leaned back with his fingers interlocked behind his neck and grinned. “A true warrior does not settle for mediocrity.”
Athena set her book aside. “Is that a no?”
“That’s a no.”
Athena looked down at the board and smacked her lips. Three quick moves later, the game was over, the table was broken in two, and Ares had stormed off to find consolation in Aphrodite’s arms.