RYSE AWOKE TO the sounds of laughter and a thick Irish brogue. The sound was familiar, but it was impossible that he recognized it.

“Rise and shine, princess. You been sleepin’ long enough. Too much more beauty rest and you’ll be as good lookin’ as me.”

Ryse’s eyes flashed open to see a face that still appeared in his worst nightmares. Not because of the man, but because of the way he died. A smiling brute with red hair, pale freckled skin, and hazel eyes greeted him.

“Andreas.” Ryse tried to hop up, but was disoriented. The room spun and stars danced in his vision. His stomach had taken a roller coaster ride and wasn’t back yet.

“Aye. I’ve only seen you stumble once before and it was from drink.”

Ryse cleared his head as he examined the seven-foot mammoth in front of him. It was Andreas’ face, but his body was twice the size. “I must be drunk. ‘Cause it seems there’s more ugly to you now than when I last saw you.”

Andreas’s laughter echoed and he pulled Ryse into a manly hug. This was his way; Andreas was one of the most physical people he’d ever known. He hugged, he touched, and he constantly made contact with others. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”

Ryse had to be dreaming. Did he die after all? Had the gods tricked him? He had to be in the Heavens because he had watched Andreas die in the same fashion as his father. The battle had been decades ago and Andreas had been the first Elite warrior Ryse commissioned.

“What?” Andreas queried when Ryse kept staring.

“I saw you die,” Ryse whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Andreas’ happy face grew solemn. “Aye, you did. And because you taught me so well, the gods showed me favor. I’m a soldier of Zeus and I have you to thank, Master.”

Air left his lungs and he thought he might really screw up and cry. This was his long lost best friend standing in front of him, living, a soldier of Zeus who thanked him and called him “Master.”

“Easy now, lad. Don’t want to be lookin’ like a couple o’ Nancys.” Andreas slapped him on the shoulder and winked. He knew. Of course he knew. This was Andreas. “Besides, I’m not the only one up here anxious to meet you.”

Ryse took a second to look around and gather his faculties. He was in a stately room clearly designed to let people recover from the portal. There were benches and maidens handing out goblets of water. Hayden sat with his head between his legs as a young woman held a damp cloth to his neck. Charles was still passed out on one of the benches. Hammon attempted to stand and wobbled. Another maiden caught his arm and steadied him.

“What the hell happened in that portal?” Ryse asked.

“Yer soul was separated from yer skin, lad. Nasty bit o’ work. That’s the only way to get in. I’ve heard it’s not as bad goin’ back.”

“By the gods, I hope not. Wait, then. Where is my body?”

“In the portal. Safe.”

“How do you know?” Ryse questioned. He stopped walking, hesitant to leave his skin unattended.

Andreas gave him a smug grin. “Have time to stop and smell the roses, did ya? In case you haven’t noticed, Master Ryse, you fared much better than the others. None linger in the portal. Don’t you worry.” He motioned for Ryse to follow him.

By then, Hammon had taken notice of who was in the room.

“Andreas!”

“Hammon!”

The two men embraced and exchanged heartfelt words of joy. Ryse often forgot that Andreas hadn’t only been his loss, but Hammon’s as well. The two had been friends long ago. It did his heart good to see them reunited.

“You’ve had a hellova time with that one, Hammon.” Andreas nodded over to Ryse. “I can’t believe you haven’t run him through with yer sword yet.”

“I’ve been tempted, old friend.” Hammon’s shining smile stretched ear to ear.

“Now I remember what it was like having both of you mothering me. By the gods, you two separate.” Ryse clapped them both on the backs as they shared a rare moment of familiarity.

It took a few more minutes for Charles and Hayden to join them, but finally, all the men were back in their right minds and on their feet. Andreas opened the tall, ornate doors and they beheld a landscape Ryse couldn’t have imagined, even in his wildest dreams.

Rolling hills with the greenest grass the eye could fathom. Temples of stone that were once erected on Earth now stood out in white contrast. People milled about, made their way into the temples, and carried tomes he could only guess the age of. His jaw hung open when he looked into the skies and saw the planets, the entire solar system so close he could spin the rings of Saturn or touch the rust-colored soil of Mars. All of creation and the mysteries of the universe were in those skies.

“Welcome to Olympia, lads,” Andreas said as a broad smile stretched across his face. His arms encompassed their surroundings. “Welcome…to the Heavens.”

“Holy Zeus,” Charles whispered in awe.

“No words. There are no words. How am I supposed to document this place when I have not the vocabulary?” Hayden spoke in a daze, taking in every detail. Surely he would find a way to write his experiences down to share with future generations.

They all followed as Andreas made his way down the hill on a white, stone-paved path. Ryse turned back to see the building they’d come from. It was a small temple with round columns, just enough to hold the portal. More soldiers stood guard at the doors.

“First, you must all be purified.” Andreas directed them to another white-stoned building. “Enter and allow the priestesses to cleanse you. The gods want to get this matter sorted. They don’t like havin’ all of you here and yer homes unattended. The great council convenes as soon as all the Deities are done.”

“Have the others arrived?” Hammon asked. His inquiry was for one Deity in particular.

“Yer son has arrived, Master Hammon. He anxiously waits in the temple of Zeus,” Andreas replied with a kind smile. He slapped Ryse on the arm and then gripped his forearm. “You and I will catch up later. I have missed you, old friend.”

“And I you.” Ryse’s voice was thick with emotion.

Andreas bowed to them all, his hand fisted over his heart, and turned to leave.

“I will see you again, right?” Ryse asked.

“Aye, I got a pint with yer name on it!”

“They have pints here?”

Andreas spread his arms to encompass their surroundings once again. “It is Heaven, after all.” His carefree grin stretched ear to ear. Seeing Andreas so happy, so full of purpose and—life—gave him the greatest sense of relief and hope he’d ever experienced. If Andreas had found such overwhelming peace in the afterlife, surely his father would have the same peace. Ryse didn’t know what he expected of the afterlife, but thus far, it was everything he could imagine and more.

“Brother?” Hayden called from the entrance of the cleansing temple.

“Coming.” Ryse allowed a smile for Andreas.

The cleansing was both a physical and mental exercise. Having maidens in white robes wash down his body as he stood in a shallow pool caused him great humiliation, even if he did have a towel draped around his waist. The women’s faces were covered, but they saw enough. Going from public nudity to meditation didn’t work so well for him. He was wound tight again.

“Only when you clear your mind and heart can you enter the holy temple,” a woman whispered. “Close your eyes, warrior.” He could have sworn there was a hint of laughter in her tone.

Ryse closed his eyes and tried to get rid of the noise that had taken up permanent residence in his head over the last few days. He tried to concentrate on the one thing that always soothed his soul. Avery.

With eyes closed, he remembered the way her hair felt as the soft curls sifted through his fingers. As he took a deep breath, he caught her scent: soap and berries sprinkled with sugar. By the gods, she had smelled so sweet the night she had taken him into her body. His mouth watered to taste her again, to kiss her lips and taste the richness that was dynamically Avery. He’d give anything to hold her once more and hear her laughter or her southern voice of honey as it caressed his ears.

“And you shall, Ryse Castille, Master Thracian and Deity Prince.”

He opened his eyes to see the owner of the voice that ended his trance. The woman stood tall and, even when Ryse rose to his full height, she was still taller. Her jet black hair was loose and fell in a silky wave to the floor along with navy-colored robes. Her eyes, the most intense glacier blue he’d ever beheld, stayed steady on him. In his heart, he knew this woman.

“Rhea.” Her name was whispered in awe.

“I am.”

Ryse stood quickly. “Avery? Where is she?”

The woman never blinked, but she did curve her lips into a ghost of a smile. “She is well, Master Thracian. Walk with me.” She linked her hand in the crook of his elbow. They left the temple and crossed a field full of lavender blooms, the purple sea spreading out for miles. “She was not supposed to die.”

“Then…why?”

“Free will. When I created the Olympians in the dawn of time, I fashioned a civilization of intelligent creatures who knew their place.” Her hard tone surprised him, but he remained silent as she spoke. “My people worshipped me, they adored me because I created them for that purpose. Over time, I saw where I had made a mistake. The people didn’t worship me out of thanksgiving or appreciation. They were simply created to. Their affections were stale and tasteless on the tongue. Their prayers were but a series of meaningless, memorized words. Which would you rather have, Master Thracian, an army of soldiers who follow because they were programmed or an army of those who choose to do so?”

Ryse nodded his head. He fully understood. Loyalty out of choice and faith ran much deeper in the soul than loyalty out of habit or tradition or fear.

“Upon realizing my mistake, I bestowed upon my sons the obligation to watch over my creation. I spent millennia scrutinizing the decision to endow free will to the people. I determined that if we, the gods, gave them something worth following, they would choose us on their own.”

“That’s where the Deities came into play?”

“Yes,” she said and smiled. She flicked her wrist and the purple blooms of lavender turned into yellow tulips. Rhea made a soft noise of displeasure and flicked her wrist again. The field changed to an endless vista of blue roses, just like the ones he’d given Avery when they first met.

“The gods were to guide you. Zeus, in particular. He wanted the responsibility and I gave it to him. Over time, he has forgotten his duties and he has let the people fall into disarray. The bloodlines are diluted. Olympians breed with humans and those of different lines. The original gifts of the gods have died out or mutated. Take your Elite, Brenden, for example. He should not exist. He is a genetic anomaly, a monster in the truest sense of the word.”

“He is a good man,” Ryse snapped defensively.

Rhea held up her hand. “I speak only of his blood, not his heart. I see the value in the man. He is loyal and will be of service to Avery. My point is that my creation has shifted the balance of power and I cannot have that. They forget who gave them life and who can take it away. A people without religion, without purpose, and without a moral guide are doomed. Look at the myriad of human civilizations that imploded because they became lost to greed and power. I cannot have the Olympians doing the same. I would rather destroy them all than watch them kill one another slowly by giving in to selfish desires. That is why I created Avery. She is of pure blood, no matter who birthed her. You are twice-blessed by the gods, a son of a Deity; no purer blood exists. The two of you are the beginning of a new lineage, one that must guide our people back to the gods. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.” Ryse’s jaws clenched.

Rhea touched his cheek and brought his face up so she could see his eyes. “Salina is only the beginning. There are others out there who are far more destructive. You must take up your sword and wage war against those who threaten your world.” Her face hardened and, for the first time since their walk began, he saw the creator of the universe in her eyes. This goddess was power personified. “I was not exaggerating when I said I would rather extinguish the Olympians than watch them fall to ruin. And I have the capacity to do thusly.”

Ryse swallowed the lump in his throat. The goddess was quite literally putting the fate of the Olympian world in his hands. If he didn’t take care of the problem, she would.

“Go. You have a trial to attend and I have a Grace to raise from the dead.”

***