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A thunderous energy pulse heralded her arrival. As her body slammed into the ground, the young girl was thrust backwards, landing on one of her downed companions. The ethereal woman remained crouched, studying the four anima that surrounded her. Draped in black and silver, the woman’s cloak only gave way to fierce, armored features and a single bare arm, which bore a long, crescent-shaped gauntlet.
Within a single heartbeat’s time, the curved stiletto that hung at her ribcage was unsheathed, its spindle-like tip pointed at Naika. Her voice roared forth, infinitely more ferocious than her feral, yet soft, face let on. “What have you done to the God of Winter? Speak swiftly, lest you meet an unfortunate fate.”
The girl’s jaw hung open wide, yet no sound came forth. Scrambling to gain a foothold, Naika met her reflection in the gaze of the wild warrior. She could see other colors, other worlds sheltered in those eyes, but the being was no one familiar.
“I, he insisted—” Another roar split the air between them.
“Spit it out! Did you take his life?”
The young Goddess felt nauseated. She had to keep it in check this time.
“I did. He threatened us— provoked me. Said he wouldn’t allow me to ... ‘waste my potential.’”
The wild woman bared her teeth. “Potential? For being a God-murdering monster?! I’ll send you straight to hell, or perhaps I’ll call upon the Moirai and let them choose a worse fate.”
Naika growled back, all too frustrated at the barrage of threats she had taken. “Stop. I am therianthropic—I transform into a polar bear. I am a Lucent by birth, an order of high magick. The Winter God knew. He challenged me, saying that he was passing on the rights of Winter. He was already dying. And now I’m the Goddess of Winter, by his choice, not mine.”
The warrior’s stiletto drooped to the ground. “I see. Lord Winter saved himself through you.” Her pale purple eyes squinted at a still-pulsing Sirus, who was nervously rubbing electric bolts between his thumb and index finger. “That means... that makes you part of the Trinity.”
“You,” she curled her finger toward Sirus, “contain the soul of Zeus, I know. I could feel your energy from a galaxy away. But I assumed, since it coincided with the crushing of the Winter Soul, that the Godeater had come.”
All eyes shot up to the cloaked figure. After all his silence, Noah was the first to speak. “What is a Godeater? And he’s Zeus? As in the Greek God of lightning and thunder?”
She gave the platinum-haired boy a bored look. “Yes. Are the life and trials of Zeus not common knowledge?”
“Uh, no. All of the gods are dead. At least we thought so. No one knows the stories anymore, people haven’t cared in centuries,” Sirus chimed in, perched on a distant tree stump. “I have never had this happen—why now? I don’t know what to do,” indicating the static charge now running through his clothes.
A tight smile sprawled across the woman’s dark features. “You’ve awoken your true spirit.”
* * *
Noah drew in the dirt—what exactly, he could not see—as the foreign woman wove tales of mighty Zeus and his cohorts, and the Great Bear, God of the cold and ice.
I stand in the wake of greatness, apparently. Or perhaps only in the way, he thought numbly.
She spoke at great length about a great celestial meeting, gathering gods and goddesses from far reaches of the universe to confront a growing threat against their lives. A thousand names she spoke, yet he could only recall a handful. Zeus. Freyja. Odin.
As he floated off into his thoughts, he couldn’t help but wonder: why am I here? No discernable talent, no magick blood, no Faerie Godmother. He suddenly understood a small skosh of Sirus’ frustration.
“And you,” her voice broke through his concentration, “must be... you’re someone of importance, most assuredly. I have my suspicions, but I am bound to hold my tongue until your Awakening. Until then, I must assist you in any way I can. I’ll start with your wounds.” She motioned towards Noah’s forearm, which now festered within the deep gashes. “Come closer.”
Noah stood in unsure defiance. “How do we know we can trust you? If you don’t recall, you threatened to eviscerate us a few hours ago.”
The woman’s saucered eyes brushed over the landscape. “I am Hekate, Goddess of the crossroads. I vowed to help the God-Kings save the universe and those in it. My sword is sworn to you two,” she swung her arm towards Naika and Sirus, “and before long, perhaps you as well. For now, I help you as a comrade of the Gods. A friend of a friend holds true.”
Before he could pull away, Hekate seized his arm, studying the thick lines that streaked his skin. Squeezing the wound tight, she began to whisper, chanting louder and louder until her voice became a howl in the night.
Με αρμοδιοτήτων και της σκιάς και του φωτός, μπορεί να θεραπεύσει το δέρμα, μπορεί η σφραγίδα του τραύματος, χωρίς θέρμανση ή πόνο, γι 'αυτό είναι.
A thousand whispers on the wind repeated her words in a thousand languages: By the powers of shadow and light, heal the skin, seal the wound, free of fever or pain, so shall it be.
Noah winced as a deep burn smoldered within his muscles. His arm spasmed wildly under her touch. Lines of white light zipped around each torn edge, tugging the skin and stitching it tight.
Hekate made small talk as the skin warmed under the lights’ glow. “Those lanyards you wear, do you know what purpose they serve?”
Noah pulled at the cord around his throat, prying the onyx chunk from its hiding place under his coat. He eyed its glassy surface, searching for something deeper than his own reflection.
Naika shook her head at the elder goddess. “We thought they were just gifts. They were from a woman named Nell.”
“Ah, is that what you called the Earthen one? Neletheneira, her full name. Those are no mere trinkets; the elemental bore those shards from her own body to shield you—hide you—from the Godeater’s sight. The land of onyx in the sky, Asgard, home of the Norse, was chosen for the Great Meet for that very reason. The Evil Eye’s reach is only reflected in its darkened glaze.”
As the last few lines disappeared from his skin, Noah flexed his fingers, one by one. The stiffness was gone. “Maybe I won’t lose my arm after all. First bonus of this whole trip.”
Naika approached him, gingerly rubbing cold palms across the scarred skin. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hugging him tightly.
She could never repair the damage, she knew.
Hekate loosened her grip on his limb, the last traces of light sticking to her forefinger and thumb. “The scars may never fade, but no, you’ll not need an amputation. It is fully healed, though the skin may be sore. Now, you should rest. Tomorrow, we will search the area for the Εργαλεία των θεών,” her voice switching fluidly from English to Greek.
“Ergaleia tou Theou...?” Noah stumbled through repeating her phrase, each flourish butchered.
Sirus barged in, vehement once again. “What? It’s freezing out, we’re out of food. And you want us to stay longer? I’m trying to get the hell out of here!”
Hekate fumed at the boy’s brashness, but maintained her composure. “The Ergaleia tou Theou are your tools. They were buried in a hidden cellar, patiently awaiting the members of the Trinity. Only after the location is secured will the Forest let you leave.”
“...Let us leave?” Sirus asked, suddenly nervous.
The dark goddess stared up at the treetops. “Yes. These woods are constantly changing—enchanted with deep, ancient magick—to protect the Winter Realm and the artefacts it holds. Were someone able to manage a coup, they certainly would not make it out.”
Naika’s gaze fell upon Sirus, cold as death. The snowflakes that piled here and there amongst the fallen leaves swirled up around her in a flurry, and her eyes flickered like crystals in their sockets. “Do you hear that, Sirus? An ever-changing forest. You insulted me and assaulted my friend over a forest that always moves. I hope you’re pleased with your newfound knowledge.”
He shrank in on himself, looking smaller than his body deemed possible.
Hekate’s breathing was even, but not calm. “There is a silver lining to his attack. It spurred on his Awakening, which is responsible, in part, for my finding you. It may have taken much longer to follow scarce remnants of Lord Winter’s spirit. And by then, it might have been too late for your friend.”
Naika had not considered that, without aid, Noah might have actually died from infection. It was a strange thought in such a modern world.
With little pause, the elder goddess continued, “Enough talk. Get your rest. You’ll need your strength and wits for the chaos that looms ahead.”
* * *
Using snow for ink, Naika marked the back of each of their hands with a special sigil, an ancient rune of protection. For the first time since leaving home, she had dreamed in the darkness; her dream was made up of black and blue, a shimmering darkness that illuminated itself, the way that only dreams can. Swirling, iridescent lights—the Aurora Borealis, she knew— rose from the blackness, filling the places of ground and sky with prismatic warmth. And there, through the colors, the ancient Winter Lord spoke to her. He showed the young goddess how to understand the whispers on the wind, how to smell fear and hear distant heartbeats. Before his departure, just as her werebear form floated back down from the sky, he showed her this rune. It was familiar to her— a black and white snowflake of sorts, with six points and six circles between them— but it was a distant memory, too far down the road to reach.
Leaving their makeshift home behind, the three followed Hekate over frozen lakes and through the darkest parts of the magicked wood. At times, the branches seemed to reach out and pluck one or two of them from their feet, robbing them of balance. Other times, the whispers on the wind turned to wails— loud, hoarse screams that mocked a banshee’s death moan, while all of the trees stood stone-still. The forest spiraled in on itself, forever and ever, devouring hours of time with each twist.
Tension rose in waves as the road lengthened, though none dared utter a syllable of exasperation. Noah, sandwiched between his two mightier companions, kept his eyes on the ground and his hands in torn pockets as they marched.
Too far into his thoughts to take notice of their sudden stop, he rammed head-first into Naika, sending her into a tumble across the snow and mud. She was convulsing, her body threatening to transform with a tuft of fur here and claw there.
“It’s coming on too strong. I-I can’t stop it! Move, out of the way!”
As her spine contorted, throat widened, and legs melded in, the Winter Goddess began to levitate. Her transformation complete, the great polar bear stood on two back feet at least a yard off the ground. Naika threw her head back, and in place of a roar, her human voice came forth, though her words were not her own.
“The door is here, Goddess of the crossroads. The stone mask will be upon you soon. Lightning of the West, Raven of the East, Snow of the North. It is time to let this cub go her own way. Goddess Naika, I bid you the fleetest journey. Peace under the stars always.”
The light that had sheltered itself within her throat pulsed no more. The young bear’s body drifted delicately back to earth, lingering on four paws before bounding ahead, the heat of the hunt burning in her chest.
A great shifting occurred underfoot, as a massive horizontal slab of stone slowly pushed up from amidst gnarled roots and ice. The long, ornately carved oval housed a great face; a smile, stitched shut, a short, flat nose, and three eyes, one situated atop the other two. The spherical indentions formed a triangle, outlined by thin blue, black, and white lines.
Naika stood at the forehead, rocking onto her hind legs and cooing excitedly. As she placed a paw into the white sphere, the connected lines began to glow; removing her paw, the lights would fade back to stone. Hekate positioned herself at the middle stitch of the mouth, and raised her hands to the sky. She began chanting, wildly and with a deep, throaty yell:
Lightning της Δύσης, Raven της Ανατολής, χιόνι του Βορρά.
Lightning της Δύσης, Raven της Ανατολής, χιόνι του Βορρά.
Lightning της Δύσης, Raven της Ανατολής, χιόνι του Βορρά.
Το Trinity έχει έρθει
Lightning of the West, Raven of the East, Snow of the North. The Trinity has come, rang the voices in Naika’s ears.
Naika nudged at Sirus’ leg, pushing him towards the blue indention. His toes had barely touched the bottom of the round before neon blue lights streamed across the stone. The young goddess took her place at the north, yelping for the Raven to take its place. When the lights struck one another, the resulting crash was so loud that Noah was knocked off balance, his ears only capturing a fierce buzzing. He looked to Hekate, whose eyes glowed with the colors of crushed velvet and midnight.
“Are you going to take your place?” he shouted over the ear-splitting booms. “Hekate?”
Her hands still reached to the Heavens, but her eyes were on the platinum-haired boy. “I am not the Raven!” she shouted, bearing all her teeth in a feral grin. Idle hands shot to his chest, the heartbeat contained within escalating in staccato thumps.
“Wait! It’s ... me? I am the Raven?”
The elder goddess’ smile stayed the same. “Once more, with feeling!”
Noah approached the dark eye of the mask. His entire body shook as he shouted and swiftly planted both feet into the socket. “I AM THE RAVEN!”
In the midst of the fluctuating lights, the face split open, dissecting into three even slabs. Underneath was a giant, hollow divot, barely arm-deep into the soft earth. Hekate approached from the now-distant mouth, crossing the outer circle to reach the opening. Naika stepped down into the space on thick, padded paws. Before their eyes, she transformed; popping sounds shot through the air as bones collapsed in on themselves, muscles sliding back over their rewired shapes. Noah winced at the sight, closing his mind to the thought of such pain. Hekate was not so shy about her fascination with the process. She was clearly amazed at the fur shaping itself into clothing as skin slicked over exposed innards.
On her own two feet again, the bear goddess fluffed her long blonde mane out of her hoodie and onto her back, the silver coin necklace that hung around her neck tangled in its length. She fought with the knots, dexterously flipping hair this way and that to free the chain from its captor.
Sirus stared at the coin—it wasn’t a quarter, or half dollar, but it was something he had seen before.
“A coin for the ferryman, aye?” Hekate asked, answering Sirus’ question before he asked it.
Naika raised her head, still partially hidden under a mass of hair. “Yes, it is. Family tradition. Well, my mother’s family’s tradition. ‘Always wear a silver coin—you never know when you’ll meet the ferryman.’ I didn’t know what that meant until I was older. One day, I was reading one of mom’s books about the Old World, and right there in front of me was the coin—my coin—being given to Charon to carry the soul across the river Styx. All my life, I never realized that we’re all patiently waiting for death.”
The necklace loosed into her hands, displaying the full face of the coin. A woman’s face adorned the coin, though many of her features were worn away. Parts of the coin were thick and bumpy, unlike modern coin’s uniform depth and precise edges.
Naika gently tucked the keepsake back under her hoodie before shoving her hands into its pockets. “So, are you going to join me, or what?”
Without warning, Hekate clasped each boys’ shoulder and pushed them into the tiny pit, making room for herself between them.
As if it were inhaling, the ground sucked them in. Dirt formed into a roof overhead, defying gravity, as they moved deeper into the soft, damp darkness.
* * *
An underground cavern opened wide in front of them. High vaulted ceilings swooped down here and there, creating entrances for the numerous passageways on all sides. A series of granite pillars ran the length of the room, each marked by a different deity. Gods and Goddesses of all pantheons were honored here, their sigils forming long ribbons across the cavern floor. Each symbol glowed like a luminescent fire opal, creating a pale wash of rainbow light over the room. These same sigils spanned each hallway, gently lighting each one.
“We must traverse all of the passages. Some may dead end suddenly, others will linger on aimlessly, but we must follow them to an end. That is how the seal of Ergaleia tou Theou is broken. Only then will the central room open,” said Hekate, heading to the first entryway on the left, “we will split up. Naika, take far right. Sirus, start at the far-end, middle doorway. Noah and I will start here.”
Noah ran to her from the farthest pillar, still amplified with adrenaline. “Wait, why can’t I take another path? It’d make the trip shorter. I’m clearly ... someone! I helped open the gate!”
The elder goddess moved into the passage, her face becoming dark as the luminescence of the cavern left her. “Because you are not Awakened. Yes, you play a role. But without full realization, I cannot let you linger here alone. As for you two, do not forget to touch the wall at each end. When you’ve completed your side, come back here and wait.”
Noah continued, frustrated. “Okay. Fine. But how will we know where we are? We lost my flashlight outside.”
The goddess straightened her shoulders and faced the dark head on. “I am the goddess of the crossroads. I am in the light, the darkness, and the twilights between. I could not possibly guide those on treacherous paths if I could not see my own worlds.”
Noah raised an eyebrow, shooting a bewildered look at Naika.
“She can see in the dark— night vision,” she whispered in reply. The two shared a toothy grin as Noah turned and bounded down the hall.
The Winter Goddess took to her were-form, padding down the archways with superior vision. Sirus stood at his entryway, attempting to spark lightning from his hands. He had long ceased to hear the others’ echoes before the bolts finally stood at attention there, right between his middle and ring fingers. He held his breath, fearful of losing his precious light to the wind, and began his trek down the far ends of the cavern.
One by one, the walls were activated, tracing the ancient paths of the Gods and Goddesses who walked before them. Naika was first to finish her set, trodding back to the entrance that sat deep under the stone mask. She watched as the open space gradually changed, the cleared passages folding into one another each time another was completed. The young goddess waited patiently for the Call to subside, not so desperate for change as before; for once in her life, she was gaining control over the wild that ran through her. It was no longer a heavy burden, but a gift— a place of respite where she could be alone with all of her thoughts, both human and wild. A deep sleep wove through her exhausted muscles, and so she napped while awaiting her companions, her muzzle pressed into a small pile of dirt.
Noah and the dark goddess returned to the cavern shortly after, sitting close to the entry wall but leaving the slumbering bear adequate space. Only three doorways remained on the far side.
“Can we not help him?” Noah whispered.
Hekate shook her head, “Once a person has taken a wall, it is theirs to complete. We have to wait. Sirus will come through.”
The boy shrugged, then pressed himself against the warm earth, and fell asleep within minutes. Hekate did not take rest, but kept vigil over her sleeping charges.
Finally, one of the paths closed. Sirus emerged moments later, staring at the motley crew ahead. “Shorter going out than in,” he joked. His voice quivered, “sorry to be slow. I’m not used to this.”
Hekate waved him off.
“You take your pace,” smirking at the napping comrades surrounding her, “we are clearly in no hurry.”
Sirus offered a weary smile. “Thank you for understanding. It’s difficult. All of it. I haven’t exactly been a good friend or help to either of them. I miss home, but I hate remembering my father and his... hiding all of this. I was always taught honesty and integrity.”
Hekate cut him off. “By the Gods. Have you considered the fact that your father honestly could not tell you? He kept an oath. Just as I have to keep my oath to you and Little Bear. Just as I have to keep his secrets,” she thrust her chin at Noah, “suspicions or no. Not everything is meant to hurt. But ties bind, and they are stronger than you and I.” She adjusted her waist belt, checking her weapons. “Besides, the anger in you is not entirely yours. Zeus had a temper like few others, wise and benevolent as he was. I am sure it must be arduous, being between two souls. You are you—who you’ve always been—and you, reincarnate of the Greek God of Gods. They are neither entirely the same, nor entirely different. Still, there must be times of nonexistent equilibrium.”
Sirus nodded, his head hanging heavy against one shoulder. “Yeah, all of that and more. But duty calls, right?” The stout young man laughed mockingly, “That’s what Father said, anyway.” He returned to his trek, starting down the next path with a half-hearted wave.
* * *
A cracking noise rippled around the cavern’s pillars, panicking both Naika and Noah. As the little bear worked back into human skin, Hekate and Noah approached the newly-formed passageway ahead. Faint midnight-blue and purple mists rolled out in dense clouds along the floor. Sirus emerged from inside the path, much to Noah’s surprise.
“There was a doorway a few feet into the hall, but it sealed behind me. I think we’re finally ready, though.”
Naika joined the group, cautiously peeking down the hall ahead.
“I will take up the rear,” said Hekate. “We should be safe in the armory, but I am not willing to take chances. Even shadows can speak here,” she added, pulling the others to the front. Sirus filed in first, and Noah, Naika, and their dark guardian followed him into the path.
The passageway swayed left and right, turning uphill before coming to an abrupt end. The room housed there shined with a searing bright light.
It was a compact place, much smaller than the entryway before it. Shelves lined the adjacent wall, carved from the surrounding dampened earth. Weapons and trinkets filled the space; one such trinket shined like starlight on a white string; another— a long spear that took up an entire shelf on its own—flickered with burning orange runes. On a shelf far to the right sat a single silver brace that wrapped around the wrist and up the middle fingers. There were necklaces that swirled in colors of the sun and moon; and a great sword that pulsed blue at its curved edges. Magick hung thick in the air, creating the shimmering fog that now filled the entire cavern.
“They’re – they’re beautiful,” Naika whispered, running her fingers along the earthen shelves.
“How will we know what to take?” Sirus asked, placing throbbing hands at his hips.
The elder goddess pursed her lips, half smiling. “Close your eyes and listen for their call. It may be whispers, it could be roars. Just listen closely.”
Naika confidently approached one of the smaller shelves. “I don’t even have to try. This one,” she reached out to the starlight, “is mine.”
“You are correct, Little Bear. It is the Alioth.”
“The brightest star of Ursa Major, the Great Bear in the sky? The actual star?”
Hekate nodded. “Dark times need bright stars. When the skies began falling into nothingness, the powers of the night were sealed away. You hold one of only a few that were saved here on Earth.”
A rumble suddenly shook the room, tossing its inhabitants about violently.
“Ah, Hekate. I knew I’d find you here,” a dark, sickly-sweet voice echoed off the walls.
Hekate whirled to the doorway, stiletto in hand. “Eris. I’ll not ask you to leave politely. Go or fight.”
The Goddess of Chaos slinked forward from the shadows. Straight blue-black hair hung to her hips, her skin porcelain with lips the color of wine. Her eyes shined like rubies, and a long, thick scar adorned the apple of her left cheek. A snow-white maiden’s gown shifted delicately about her curves, concealing her true nature and the monster she held within.
“Ever the sweet one. Tell me—who have you brought to these sacred grounds? Are you simply sitting here like obedient dogs, awaiting your little masters? The fools, thinking they could save themselves from the might of the Godeater. Or...” she turned to Noah, suddenly upon him, close enough to whisper in his ear, “have the two lords already come?”
Hekate growled, poised to strike. Before she could loose her retort, Eris met her gaze, face to face.
“Goddess Hekate of the ancient world, I bind you to your words, and those words I bind to your heart. Speak now in truth, or perish.”
“You accursed creature,” the elder goddess spat, her lip bleeding from fiercely-clenched teeth.
“Oh, did you think I would not know the rules? Just because I do not follow them, does not mean I cannot see their value in execution.” Eris flourished an arm towards Sirus, “Name him. Who is the boy, and what is his purpose here?”
Hekate stole a deep breath, but stood in silence. One minute passed, then another.
“Silence does not count as truth, you wretched old hag.”
“Nor does it count as untruth. Do you think I am new to this? Unlike you, I know exactly what I am doing.”
With the smallest effort, Eris snatched the other boy by the arm, slamming him into a nearby shelf. “Name him, or I will wrench my answer from his bleeding throat.”
Hekate’s stance tightened once again, taking calculated steps towards the center of the room. “I will make you suffer, Eris. Leave the boy out of this.”
“My name—my name is Sirus Vick.”
All eyes were now upon him.
“No! Say no more!” she warned sternly, but Sirus continued.
“I am the reincarnation of Zeus. And I am the only god here.”
A wicked grin was all Eris offered him in return, her eyes sparkling like bloody fireflies. “Does he speak the truth, Hekate?”
“He does. He is the only awakened God here. Are you satisfied?”
The Goddess of Chaos snickered. “It takes much more than that to satisfy me. I will have to ensure that the second god cannot awaken.” She disappeared into a gray mist, her laugh still echoing around the room. A quiet chant began stirring the grainy clouds higher and higher, until they covered the room from floor to ceiling. The sandstorm screamed through their ears and filled their vision with burning ashes.
“Eris! The Godeater will not spare you, no matter what salvation he promises! You are a means to an end for him, and it will spell your end. You must know this,” Hekate yelled blindly into the mist, choking on ash with every other word. A strong wind pushed towards her, pinning her to the mud-caked wall.
“You have no idea what whispers in the dark, old one; beings more powerful than you can ever imagine await you, and I will lead them to your doorstep, wherever you go.”
A long sigh pinged across the walls. In an instant the mist was gone, and with it, the spear of runes. Furious, Hekate slammed both fists into the ground.
“Do you know what you’ve done, boy? You have given your name to the Goddess of Chaos, and therefore her master. We no longer have the advantage of knowledge. And now, we have lost the Swaying One.”
Sirus tossed his hands into the air. “I was trying to help. I thought if that was all she wanted, she’d leave us alone.”
The elder goddess gave the boy no quarter. She paced circles around him, cursing his brashness and immaturity in half-Greek, half-English tones.
“The Godeater will hunt you to the ends of the universe, until your blood spills and lightning no longer sparks through the sky. He is more than capable of destroying immortal souls. And if he manages to do so, the light is finished.”
At last, Naika lifted her head, her body still slumped against a corner shelf. Tiny spots of blood trickled from her hairline, leaving smears over her right eye. “What is that— the ‘Swaying One’?”
Noah moved from the opposite corner to help her stand, looking no worse for wear. “Is that the spear?”
“Enough! That is entirely enough discussion right now. We have to formulate a new plan. Just... just leave me be. Let me think. Do not wander far, and absolutely do not go back above ground.”
The trio left Hekate to her thoughts, filing back into the larger cavern. Many of the god sigils were now dark, their glow barely emanating past the surface.
“Like we could go back up if we wanted to,” Sirus mumbled, “how the hell would we open the door?”
Naika leaned against the closest pillar, rubbing her forehead absently. Noah followed, flipping her hair up to check the wound and taking the chance to make faces at her. The girl smiled, but her thoughts were miles away.
“Looks like it’s just a scratch on some thin skin. We won’t have to operate,” he joked, giving her a quick hug.
“Thanks Doc, I was worried I’d need to amputate my head,” she quipped back, bringing a brief smile to both their faces.
Noah tilted his head back, letting it fall to rest against the pillar. His eyes shifted to Sirus. “Are you okay, man? That was ... intense.”
The boy shrugged.
“I—I don’t even know. I wanted to save everyone, to get her away from all of you. Help instead of hurt... but I did that anyway.”
The older boy approached him, clapping an open hand on his shoulder. “You did a good thing, and we appreciate that. Don’t beat yourself up—none of us know what we’re doing.”
For once, Sirus smiled at his comrades. He placed a hand atop Noah’s and squeezed it tight.
A calm silence took hold of the room, each of them trying to process the recent events of their lives. Everything was different. Things could never be the same as yesterday, much less the day before. A shock to the senses that each of them had to bear.
Noah closed his eyes, dreaming of the girl back home. Things were so simple there, he thought, do your work, take care of family, stand up for your friends. He craved adventure then, but the adventures were now eating him alive. He cleared his mind of all but Chier’s face. He traced the outlines of her cheeks, the dimples when she smiled, the curve of her eyes.
The more he studied, the more the girl he loved fell away, replaced here and there with Eris’ wide eyes and dark smile, until he could see her entirely. He watched her eyes sway left to right, wondering if she, too, could see his gaze. Suddenly, the goddess turned, running with the rune-covered spear in hand. The area surrounding her was lush, with flora and foliage spreading out in great bursts on all sides. She ran and ran, and did not stop until the faint trickle of water could be heard around her feet. A small stream, bedecked on both sides with white granite and flowers, wound through both greenery and concrete. Ahead stood two great monuments, sets of towering rectangles that zigzagged to and fro in sync with one another, bent outwards like the wings of a bird in flight. She knelt down at the edge of an eight-sided pond, hesitating before tossing the spear into the water, and watching it sink under the ripples of the fountain in the center. The goddess then thrust her hands in after it, moving as if she were choking life from the rigid metal.
Moments passed in complete stillness. She lifted her head, gazing intently at the mirrored surface. A soft, supple face gave way to a withered, mottled reflection. Skin sagged in pools under her eyes, revealing red and black veins that swelled and subsided underneath. One eye was entirely white, as though her iris and pupil both had been spirited away. The dry skin that covered her lips flaked away as she sighed. She reached a shaking hand toward her own face, which reflected an emaciated mass of bone and claw.
And then, she ran, running as fast as her feet would take her. Away from the thing that lived in her reflection, and away from the spear that could make it real.
Noah snapped to attention. His mouth was incredibly dry, and the taste of dirt lingered on his tongue. “Guys,” he whispered to his chatting comrades, to little avail, “I know where the spear is.”