I DON'T KNOW whether to knock or just simply walk in. It's been a hard decision to come here. I thought I could destroy Osteria on my own but my partnership with Ares—a bad decision if there ever was one—taught me that I'm going about this all wrong. Not in my reasoning, humans are a plague on this land, just as they have always been. I had hoped the Disaster would have set them far enough back to never be a problem again, but already they are moving down the same paths as before. I must rid Osteria of them before the havoc they wreak on the natural world reaches the astronomical levels of destruction they caused before the Disaster. Despite what they think, they are not above the laws of nature. And now I have figured out how to sweep their egotistical feet out from under them.
If I want to destroy the humans, I need to destroy the gods first. Without the gods’ protection, humans won't survive. Besides, I'm bored with trying to break their resolve by sending earthquakes and storms. Look at Salemnos. Nearly all destroyed at my hand, but the destruction still didn’t turn them against the gods. Instead, with Hera’s assistance, their northerly neighbors in Portaceae have pitched in and reconstructed their city. Oh sure some Illamosians cursed the gods for their misfortune, but it's almost as if most of these pests relish the challenge of rebuilding. As if they enjoy starting anew.
After much debate, after heading to this place more than once and stubbornly turning away each time, I have finally stuck to my resolve and have arrived. In this remote spot in the woods of southern Osteria, an island juts up from the middle of a crater-formed lake and on this island lives the titan from who I will, even if it is demeaning to do so, request his aid. Standing on the front step of his home, my fist poised to knock on the door, my gut instincts and my pride scream at me that I don't need to do this. I am a titan, a father of monsters, a force of nature. It’s belittling myself to ask for help. Perhaps I just need to be patient. Perhaps I just need to strike hard enough, repeatedly enough at the right polis to turn the humans against the gods. Or should I muster all my life force and risk my own existence to conjure up an earthquake massive enough to wipe the humans out for good?
I pause at the thought.
I could do that. My life—a worthy exchange for the world to be rid of the pestilence of humans. I lower my fist from a door that is so large it must have been made with the full lengths of mature redwoods. I'm just about to fill myself with enough wind to blow my body back across the lake when the door swings open.
"What are you doing here, Typhon?" a bodiless voice as gnarled as an old pine limb demands.
I don't answer. I could still leave, but before I make my decision, Kronos forms into a solid being from the dust motes in the air. Although his voice is old, his appearance gives no hint that he is as ancient as time. He has strong cheekbones and a triangular face as rigid as if it had been carved from a wedge of stone. His skin shows no lines but neither does it carry the softness of youth. His dark auburn hair is combed straight back adding to the severity of his face.
"Well?" he prods.
"Do I have to state my business on your doorstep?" I should be more polite. This is the father of the titans. Not my direct father, but somehow all the immortals owe their existence to Kronos. Even—and the thought does gnaw at me sometimes—the gods owe their birth to the being before me. With Rhea he made Zeus as well as Poseidon, Hera, and Hades. But I don’t need to worry about him getting sentimental over his children. Since Zeus imprisoned him here on this island, there’s no love lost between Kronos and his offspring.
"By all means, come in." He sweeps aside in a grand gesture, but his voice is mocking. "Should I rub your feet and feed you ambrosia as well?"
Ignoring the comment, I step in. The inside of Kronos's home is vast but plain. The only decorations in the cavernous foyer are an oversized hourglass whose sands, although they run continuously never change levels on either side, and a pedestal displaying an oblong stone the size of a human infant.
"Is that the stone Rhea fed you?"
"Yes. A reminder to never play the fool again," he says bitterly. "Now, state your business."
The stone had been fed to him by his wife as a trick when he wanted to devour their children to keep them from usurping his place in the world. Even though it has put him in an unreceptive mood, I’m glad I brought his attention to it because I know it will act as a reminder of all those he detests.
"I need you to call the titans together."
A snort of derision that sounds like rocks tumbling down a hillside comes from Kronos's throat. His lips turn up slightly at the corners in an expression that is lost somewhere between smile and snarl.
"Is it a family reunion you want?"
"In a manner of speaking." I pause, hating what I must ask. The words coat my tongue with bitterness. "I need help from whoever will give it."
"You know we don't work together. There's no point of even trying." He's not touching me but a force pushes me back toward the door. I use all my will to resist and hold my ground.
"Not even if it meant destroying the gods?" I say. "If it meant our return to power? If it meant Osteria, even beyond Osteria, was all ours?"
The force ceases. I nearly topple over from the change in pressure on my body. Kronos assesses me, stares at me like a wolf deciding whether or not to attack. Then the stare breaks and he shakes his head.
"Can't be done. We tried before, remember? It's why we are scattered everywhere unable to do much more than cause a little havoc now and then. I remember the days when we could take control of a few volcanoes and spend an entire day in a lava fight. Back when we got along, back before Zeus stripped me of power and stuck me here."
"Exactly my point. We can go back to the old ways of thriving on the chaos of nature if we do away with humans and rid ourselves of the gods. I know we can do it, but I need other titans to compound my efforts, and you’re the only one who can call them together." I gesture toward the pedestal. "Or do you want that stone to be your lasting legacy?"
Kronos glares at the small boulder. In his full power he could have blasted it into sand, but not now. As punishment after the last titan war, Zeus sapped Kronos and his closest relations of most of their power. Although I lost some of my skills, I was lucky. Being far removed from the direct line of descent from Kronos, I still retain most of my titan power. Regardless of his near impotence, by being our progenitor, Kronos can communicate to all the titans without leaving his island prison; a skill no other titan possesses.
"Do you mean for them to come here?" he asks incredulously, as if I’ve suggested he open his home to a herd of drunken centaurs.
"We can't very well meet on Olympus."
"Will it really work, do you think?" I don’t miss that curiosity has replaced his condescension.
That’s the question, isn’t it? I know there must be some way to destroy the gods and I know someone amongst the titans must know how it can be done. That someone isn’t me, but I’m not about to show Kronos that I don’t truly have a plan under my belt yet.
"We’ll never find out unless you call them here."
Kronos glares at me for another moment. I expect to feel the push back toward the door. Titans do not work well together. We prefer to stay as far from each other as possible, an easier situation to maintain now that there are so few of us. His gaze flicks to the stone on the pedestal. A look of irritated resolve crosses his face. He gives a slight nod of agreement to me before he closes his eyes and begins muttering in our ancient dialect.