Chapter Twelve: Menoetius

As soon Therese reached Thanatos in Circe’s bed, an invisible force pushed her onto the covers beside him.

“What do you want?” Therese shouted at Circe, unable to free herself from the bed.

Circe laughed her evil laugh—more like a cackle.

Therese’s power of disintegration came to an abrupt halt. She had just reached the gates of Mount Olympus, had just left the Garden of the Hesperides, had just ushered two hundred and fifty-eight thousand souls to the Underworld, only to find herself sucked from all those locations back to this one spot on the witch’s bed.

Before she had time to wonder who would take over the duties of Death, a powerful gust of wind blew the bottom of the covers up and over her head. Minutes went by before she could push the covers back down, despite her efforts. When she finally did succeed in shoving the blanket from her head, she found herself lying beside Than on the hard floor of a grotto behind a thick waterfall. The roar of the falls made it difficult to hear anything else.

The bed was gone, but the top cover remained, her legs entangled in the blue cotton blanket embroidered with tiny birds.

“Than?” She put her ear to his chest and held her breath.

His heartbeat was faint, but at least he had one. She could also feel the shallow rise and fall of his breathing.

“Than, can you hear me?” She could hardly hear herself.

When he gave no answer, she looked around to assess her surroundings, praying to every god and goddess she knew. She had a feeling none could hear her, because she heard no one answering. She walked to the lip of the grotto and looked over the edge where the water pooled into a rushing stream several yards below. To her left was a smaller waterfall, and, down below, an even deeper canyon floor.

She knew that canyon. She knew these falls. She’d been here before.

She stood there with her mouth open for several long seconds, totally confused.

She stopped breathing.

She and Than were in the battlefield where she fought against McAdams four years ago.

***

 

Hunched over Melinoe, Hypnos watched as the Furies carried Atlas up from the pit to the main hall of Tartarus and bound the Titan to one of their tables of torture. Melinoe’s soul had not been severed from her body, but she, nevertheless, seemed lifeless. She’d been paralyzed by the trident.

Hades removed his helm and joined him near the Malevolent.

“How long will she be like this?” Hip asked his father.

Hades bowed his head. “One never knows. In some cases, a direct hit from the trident has caused permanent damage.”

“Poor Melinoe.” Hip reached out and touched her hair, but of course, his transparent hand fell through her.

Hades lifted her up and carried her to a table in the main hall, next to the angry Titan.

“It’s too late, Hades,” Atlas said. “My plan is already in motion. I don’t need the trident or your silly helm.”

“It wasn’t so silly when you went to great measures to steal it,” Hades said, as he arranged Melinoe’s arms at her side and turned his attention to Atlas.

Hip stood over Melinoe, still in awe of what she had done. He wondered why she had done it, when she had nothing to gain. Was it possible that his sister had feelings for her family after all?

Tizzie and Meg were in their full state as avengers—hair turned to snakes, blood seeping from their eyes and mouths. Meg knelt on the Titan’s chest with her falcon perched on her shoulder, ready to peck out his eyes at a moment’s notice. Tizzie stood alongside him with her wolf on her left, baring his sharp teeth. She had her whip wrapped tightly around her right hand. She lashed the end of it against the Titan’s legs. When he laughed, she did it more fiercely, repeatedly, until blood and skin hung from his shins and his laughter turned to pleading.

“Where is your brother, Menoetius?” Hades insisted.

“How should I know?”

Meg’s falcon swooped in and took out the Titan’s left eye. He groaned.

“How’s your memory now?” Meg hissed, her blood dripping onto his face and mixing with his.

“Stop!” Atlas pleaded. “I don’t know! I swear on the River Styx, I don’t know where my brother is.”

“You better tell us what you do know!” Meg growled. “Or you’ll lose your other eye!”

“Of course, it will grow back,” Hades said rather calmly.

Meg smiled at her father. “That’s right. So my falcon can do it again!”

When Atlas said nothing, Tizzie struck him again with her whip.

Hypnos had never watched his sisters at work for any length of time. Now he remembered why.

“It won’t do you any good to know,” Atlas growled. “The plan is already underway.”

“Then you may as well tell us,” Hades said in that eerily calm voice that Hip recalled from when he was a child and his father scolded him.

The falcon dipped its beak, ready to strike.

“Okay! Okay!” Atlas cried, panting. “This is what I know!”

Hypnos moved closer to his father and the Titan.

“We’re listening,” Tizzie said.

Her wolf howled.

“When Ares freed me, I went to Circe. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“And?” Hades prompted.

“And apparently she has a thing for Menoetius. She cooked up a plan to help him escape.”

“Are you saying this was Circe’s plan from the beginning?” Hades asked.

Atlas nodded. “She told me to take the credit. I was happy to.”

Hypnos couldn’t believe he’d been in the arms of the mastermind behind the plot against his family. “Swear on the River Styx,” he insisted.

“I swear,” the Titan said.

“So your brother is likely with the witch now,” Meg speculated.

“Maybe,” Atlas said. “But maybe not.”

“Where else might he be?” Hades demanded.

Sweat had broken out on the Titan’s skin. “He’s setting traps.”

Meg and Tizzie exchanged worried glances. Even though he had no body, Hypnos had the sensation of a shudder crawling down his back.

“For whom?” Hades asked.

“For all of you,” Atlas said. “He and Circe are going to trap you all.”

***

 

The violent wind lifted Jen over the treetops and spun her around and around. She was dizzy, panting, unable to see. She cried out for Hip, then for Therese, then for her mom. After several terrifying minutes of screaming at the top of her lungs, she landed at the base of a tree on a bed of dried leaves. A bruised apple lay at her feet.

An enormous shadow was cast on the ground beside the apple. Trembling with fear, she slowly looked up to see a giant standing over her. She froze, utterly helpless, utterly defenseless.

He looked like a human, except gigantic and stout. Black hair fell into his eyes, which glared down at her with anger.

What had Therese gotten her mixed up in now?

“When they ask you who brought you here, you tell them it was Menoetius.”

She wanted to ask where in the world she was, but she didn’t dare. She looked up at him and nodded, her mouth hanging open like a panting dog.

The giant turned his back on her and disappeared.

Jen scrambled to her feet and backed up against the tree, looking in all directions. Who would ask her who had brought her here? Was there someone else in these woods?

As she combed the area for clues of her whereabouts, she caught sight of about a dozen sharp sticks jutting out of the ground a few yards from where she was standing. They were covered in what appeared to be dried blood and more dead leaves.

What was this place?

Terrified of walking in the woods, where there might be more sharpened sticks less visible, Jen hugged the tree. She looked up. Apples hung from the branches—some green, but others perfectly ripe. Across from it was an orange tree. Whose fruit orchard was this? No one living around Lemon Dam had a fruit orchard. Did that mean the wind had carried her far away from home?

She heard the snap of twigs and froze. She held her breath and listened. When she heard the sound again, she reached up to the lowest branches of the tree and climbed as high as she could. Sucking in air, she glanced all around, searching for the thing she knew was in the woods.

***

 

Thanatos couldn’t move. He couldn’t even open his eyes. He lay on his back on a hard surface—he knew that much—and he could hear the thundering sound of falling water. The air was humid but not hot. He sensed filtered light touching his eyelids. A thin blanket lay over his body, and beside him, something moved.

“Than, can you hear me?”

It was Therese. If he could have sighed with relief, he would have. Her soft, warm hand touched his cheek. He could feel her breath on his face. He wanted to kiss her.

“Oh, honey, I wish you’d wake up,” she said.

He was awake. He tried to move his mouth to say it. He focused, strained…nothing.

“How did we end up here?” she said. “Of all places?”

A surge of adrenaline pumped through him. Where were they? And why was Therese so concerned?

Her face move closer to his, as though she were studying him. Her breath smelled of cinnamon and cherries. Her mouth was close.

She whispered, “Oh, Than.”

Her lips caressed his cheek. He felt something move deep inside him. Then she brought her mouth to his, planting soft and sweet kisses. Unexpectedly, she nipped his lower lip, and something woke up deep in his belly. Her tongue traced the line where his lips met. He thought he would explode.

At last, he could open his eyes.

Therese didn’t notice right away. He still couldn’t speak or move. He watched the top of her head as she traced her mouth along his chin and down his neck, to the spot just below his Adam’s apple. He swallowed hard.

That’s when she looked up at him and saw his opened eyes.

“Than! Oh, sweetheart! You’re awake!”

He blinked. The corners of his mouth twitched, but that was as much movement as he was able to make.

She ran her hands through his hair and kissed his forehead, his cheeks, and his mouth. “Thank the gods!” she said over and over. “Thank the gods!”

He enjoyed every minute of it.

“Oh, I was so worried.”

The last he recalled was being struck by Atlas with a lightning bolt. The memories flooded him. What had happened to Hip? Did Atlas have the helm? He had so many questions. Surely, Therese would know of his questions.

“You won’t believe where we are,” she said.

He sensed reluctance in her voice.

He closed his eyes, trying to be patient.

“We’re in my battlefield, where I fought McAdams.”

Than’s eyes flew open. What were they doing there?

“I don’t have a clue how it’s possible, but I recognize this place. Believe me. I couldn’t forget it if I tried.”

Circe sent them here. That made sense. This battlefield had been a gift from her to the Olympians—a peace offering after her role in the clash with the Titans. She must have reclaimed it from Zeus and has now made it their prison. But why, and for how long?

“I took Hip’s body—all of it—to his bed. And I took his soul to Tartarus,” she finally said. “As soon as I came for you, we were transported here.”

Than was relieved that his brother was safe at home and out of the clutches of the witch. At least not all of Therese’s news was bad.

“The last thing I saw before the witch trapped me,” Therese continued, “was Atlas wearing the helm and snatching the trident from Hera’s apple tree.”

Than closed his eyes and filled with guilt. If only he hadn’t stolen the helm. Now everything and everyone was at risk because of his foolishness.