Chapter Four: Aphrodite’s Message

“You can’t go like that,” Hermes stopped Than before he could god travel to Mount Olympus to answer Aphrodite’s summons. “I’m to take your place so you can go in mortal form. She’ll meet you at the Café Moulan in Paris near the Louvre. No one’s to know of this, not even your father.”

Than gave him a grave nod, shook Hermes’s hand, and left his position as god of the dead for his rendezvous in Paris, hoping he wouldn’t be caught by Hades. His relationship with his father was already strained by the events that took place on Mount Olympus last summer when Therese failed to follow through on her end of the deal she and Hades made with the other gods. Not that Than blamed her. Her compassion for others made her more, not less, desirable to him.

He had forgotten, as he walked the street in Paris, how exhilarating it felt being in mortal form. He could smell the bakery on the corner, feel the sun on his back, and hear the cars passing by and the voices and music carrying out from the shops and cafes with much more intensity than he did as a god, and again he wondered if the lower one went down the animal kingdom, the more intense sensory perceptions became. He wished he could leave his office and join Therese as a man. Life could be so good here on earth with her. But it wasn’t to be.

Even in mortal form, Aphrodite was beautiful, though he disagreed that beauty trumped all. As beautiful as Therese was, she couldn’t rival a goddess; but it was the whole package that made him love her.

“Please sit,” Aphrodite motioned to the chair across from her on the outdoor patio of Café Moulan. She wore a scarf around her head like a hood, whether to protect her face from the afternoon sun or to conceal her identity from others, Than wasn’t sure.

“It’s good to see you,” Than said. “You have some news, I hope?”

“Wine?” She pointed to a glass she had already ordered for him.

Although he had some wine in his rooms, sent to him from Dionysus, he rarely drank. His job required him to have full control of his faculties at all times. He took a sip and closed his eyes.

Aphrodite smiled. “You like?”

“Mmmm.” He sipped again. “Yes.”

Aphrodite surreptitiously glanced around the patio and then leaned across the table. “Swear on the River Styx you won’t tell a soul what I’m about to tell you.”

Than returned the glass to the table and lifted his head with surprise. All humor left him as he looked at Aphrodite with wide eyes. “I swear.” He felt a mixture of dread and hope as he leaned closer to the goddess to hear what she had to say. Rarely was he asked to take an oath, so he knew this must be important. He hoped it had something to do with a way of making Therese his bride.

“Do you know who’s responsible for making wine?”

This question confused Than, not because he didn’t know the answer, but because he couldn’t fathom how it required such a serious oath. “Dionysus.”

“And what do you know of him?”

“He enjoys life. His philosophy is to seize the day and live to the fullest. Wine, good food, dancing, and such are his favorite pastimes, right?”

Aphrodite nodded. “Anything else?”

“He controls the maenads—the wild, frenzied women who tear people’s bodies apart. They ripped poor Orpheus to pieces before my eyes. They did leave me a parting gift, though. I have a beautiful sea shell like no other in my room. I also have bottles of his wine, sent to me through Hermes. I’ve never met him in person, though.”

“Do you know nothing more?”

Than shook his head.

“His father?”

“Zeus, I think. Or Hermes? I don’t recall.”

She took a sip of her wine and then said, “There’s a reason you don’t.”

He leaned closer. “What do you mean?” Had someone put a spell on him?

“The genealogy of Dionysus has been confused for centuries. He is indeed Zeus’s son, born of a mortal woman named Semele.”

“But how…”

“Not a demigod, I know. Because he was born again of Zeus alone.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Hera got wind of the affair and tricked Semele into asking Zeus to swear to grant her a wish. He swore on the River Styx. But her request was to see him in his full godly form, which as you know, is too bright for human eyes. But he had sworn, so even though he knew it would kill her, he showed himself to her.”

“How awful.”

“Indeed.” She took another sip of her wine. “As Semele died, she gave birth prematurely to Dionysus. Zeus cut a hole in his thigh and placed the unformed infant there, stitching him in until he was ready to be born. Because Dionysus was later born solely to Zeus, immortality was conferred onto him.”

“But I thought Dionysus’s mother was also immortal. Is that a lie?”

Aphrodite shook her head. “He went back to the Underworld, this was back in Hermes’s day, when he used to ferry the dead, when you and Hip were still too young.”

“What does all of this have to do with me?”

“Because Dionysus spends his time partying in the mountains with the maenads and the nymphs and the satyrs, many people, and even some gods, think he’s this lesser goat-like god who has very little power and authority on Mount Olympus.”

“But that’s not true?”

“No.” Aphrodite glanced around the café. Then her eyes fell on something across the patio. “Oh no.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Ares. He’s looking for me. We have an apartment here in Paris. I didn’t know where else to meet you. Let’s leave before he discovers us talking. There’s too many around for god travel. Follow me.”

Than followed her from the patio to a lime green Lamborghini parked a block away—not exactly inconspicuous.

“Get in.”

He climbed inside behind the wheel.

“Drive!” Aphrodite commanded.

Than gaped. He had no idea how. “I’ve never driven a car before.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Tell me when I would have the time. You others have no idea what kind of life I lead.”

“Switch places with me.” They vanished and reappeared in the opposite seats. Aphrodite turned the key in the ignition and pulled the car away from the curb, causing him to fall back and shriek. “Strap yourself in!”

Than looked around and fumbled with the harness as Aphrodite darted past cars, coming close to crashing several times. He wasn’t afraid of death—he was death, after all—but he was afraid of extreme pain, something he’d only experienced a few times in his long life.

“Pull over!” he shouted.

“Hold on!” She made a sharp turn and led him down an alley, where she slowed down the car and came to a stop. “I think I lost him, but we have to make this quick. He’ll soon trace my scent.”

“You were saying Dionysus is a more formidable god than most realize.”

“Exactly. People confuse him with Pan, and rightly so, because Pan doesn’t exist.”

“What?” Than searched Aphrodite’s profile for signs of mockery. “Are you kidding? How can that be?”

“You’ve heard the rumors he’s dead?” She made another sharp turn.

“He’s not in the Underworld.”

“After Dionysus was born, Zeus put him in Hermes’s care to protect him from Hera. When dressing him as a girl didn’t keep him from Hera’s suspicion, Hermes turned him into a goat and named him Pan and raised him as his own son. The stories of the two became convoluted over time, and intentionally so, to protect Dionysus.”

“And this concerns me because…”

“Because unlike all of the other powerful gods of Mount Olympus, he did not swear an oath on the River Styx never to make Therese immortal.”

Tears fled to Than’s mortal eyes and startled him. As a god, he could shed tears, but as a man, they felt different. He looked into Aphrodite’s beautiful face, wanting to kiss her with joy. “Thank you. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Not so fast,” Aphrodite frowned.

“What?”

“In order to ask Dionysus to help you, you will need to win his favor. But first, you will need to make it past the maenads. They’ll want to rip you apart.”