"Do you think me an idiot?"
Prometheus' spun around. Deucalion stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and his face set in a scowl.
"I want an answer," the young man stated after a minute of awkward silence.
For the first time in Prometheus' life, he felt unsure of what to say. "Uh, no. I don't think you're an idiot."
"Then why do you act like I am?" Deucalion's voice hitched, but Prometheus knew better than to assume sadness. His young protégé was upset. He probably didn't even fully understand the fire that burned deep in his gut.
Prometheus rolled his eyes and turned back to his table where he was filling a small bag with tools. Yet his chest tightened in guilt.
"You were gone for five months."
Prometheus paused, his brow furrowed. Time must have passed differently in the Oracle's cave.
Deucalion stepped into the building and sighed. "The reserves were gone after two weeks. We hunted with traps at first, eating meat raw. But then we lost four men to sickness. We've lost another ten to infections and attacks from wild animals. A dozen more are on the edge of death. You left without proper warning. And you abandoned us in our vulnerability."
But then he chuckled. "But the thing that really upsets me is that you're back now, and without even stopping by to see how your creations are doing, you're trying to break into Olympus."
Prometheus froze. "I'm doing no such thing."
Deucalion sneered. "Of course you're not... Despite what you say, you do truly believe I'm an idiot. I've been standing in the doorway for the past ten minutes and you've been whispering a moronic poem the entire time. I know what 'Return the heat to smith and bronze' means. You are going to try to take fire back from Olympus."
"Sometimes, Deucalion, I regret your creation."
Deucalion's lips pressed tightly, trying not to grin. He had won. "No, you don't."
Prometheus sighed. "No. I don't."
"I'm coming with you."
"By Hades' beard, you are."
"Hades doesn't have a beard. You can't stop me."
"I'm a Titan. I could kill you."
Deucalion nodded understandingly but smirked. "You could, but if you use your other gift—the one where you look forward in time—you will see that you don't end up killing me and I do end up going with you to Olympus."
Prometheus shook his head. "If I get caught, Zeus will not hesitate to turn you to ashes just to spite me."
"Do you plan on getting caught?"
"Of course not."
Deucalion crossed his arms and looked down at his well-shaped arms. "Then I think planning on my sudden combustion is a little premature."
Prometheus could have continued arguing, but he didn't have time. He turned back to his worktable and picked up his sac, swinging it across his shoulder.
"I'm not going to stop you Deucalion, but I will also not grieve if you die."
"Yes, you will."
Prometheus rolled his eyes. If there was one thing that Deucalion had to fear was careless arrogance from being right all the time.
"Fine, but you'd better keep up."
They walked outside and Deucalion began to walk northwards, towards Mount Olympus. He stopped in his tracks once he realized Prometheus wasn't following.
"What's wrong?" he asked, turning back.
"Where are you going?"
"Mount Olympus. Where are you going?"
"Did you really think we're going to walk there?"
Deucalion glanced around. "I don't see any pegasi around and, unfortunately, we seem to be out of winged sandals."
Prometheus rolled his eyes, but secretly he was pleased that Deucalion was willing to walk the entire way. "I have a friend who will be able to help us."
Deucalion walked back to Prometheus' side. "Who is it?"
"Iris, the goddess of rainbows." Prometheus took out a drachma and performed the ritual to call the goddess.
Deucalion didn't look too convinced. "Are you sure? She has a bit of a loose tongue, doesn't she? Are you not afraid that she'll let it slip that we're breaking into Olympus?"
"She will, but a bribe will keep her quiet until our work is done."
The rainbow glimmered like a million stars against the night sky. Deucalion watched it suspiciously, biting his tongue as if tasting something bitter.
When the goddess landed them at the golden gate, it was clear she and Deucalion didn't like each other. He didn't trust her and she didn't like anyone that didn't like her. Prometheus barely had time to slip her a few extra drachmas before she spun on her heel and huffed away.
"You could have been friendlier," Prometheus told Deucalion.
"She's flaky. I don't trust her. If we get caught, I swear she'll be the one behind it all."
"She may not be the most trustworthy of the gods, but she is far from being the least trustworthy."
Deucalion shrugged. He was a lot more relaxed now that she was gone. He turned to the gates and placed his hands on his hips. It towered over him, the height of four grown men and just as wide. "Now, what do we do about his nuisance? Ah." He noticed the small gate inlayed. He pulled on the handle, but it didn't budge. He jiggled it again.
Deucalion looked over his shoulder to Prometheus. "You wouldn't have a key on you, would you?"
Prometheus narrowed his eyes at the small door and turned away. He walked to the edge of the gate and waved his hand over the pillar of cloud. It vanished revealing a smaller gate, just as brilliant as the main.
Deucalion joined him. "What did you do? Why not use the main gate?"
"You mean that giant dinner bell? I though you didn't want to be turned to ash?"
"That wouldn't be the ideal situation, but what about the smaller one? Don't you usually use it?"
"I do. But we can't this time. It would take too long to make a key and opening that gate alerts Hermes and Zeus. That way they can't be surprised by any uninvited guests."
Deucalion nodded slowly. "But how did you know this one was here?"
Prometheus swung his bag off his shoulder and knelt, eye-level with the lock. "Hephaestus trusts me more than most of the other gods do. When he was drawing up the design for this gate, he called me to him."
He pulled out a leather binder, and opened it to reveal a collection of metal tools. "He asked me to use my gift and see if the design needed to be changed. I told him that the gods would have need for a secret side gate. We just never knew which god."
Deucalion crossed his arms and leaned forward to watch as Prometheus began to work. "Are you really just going to break into it with mortal tools? You don't need something a little stronger?"
"We built it to be secret, not strong."
"You can't do both?" Deucalion tsked. "I guess even your powers have their limits."
Prometheus narrowed his eyes and shot a look at the young man. He shrugged. Prometheus rolled his eyes and turned back to the lock.
He twisted the metal stick one more time and a soft *click* sounded out.
"Is that all?"
Prometheus nodded, putting his tools back into his sac and placing a hand on the handle. He took a deep breath. One small movement, just opening the gat a single inch, and he would be calling the hounds of Tartarus on him. No one entered Olympus without the invitation of an Olympian god. Especially a Titan.
He pulled the gate open; it swung open without a sound.
"Magic oil?" Deucalion joked.
But Prometheus wasn't in the mood for jests. He walked through the door into Olympus.
It was dark. Like night. Artificial night. Hera loved the peace and quiet Selene's chariot brought. Zeus preferred the overbearing power of Helios. While the earth was locked under the constant cycle of day and night, Olympus was voluntarily so. The king of the gods had to appease his wife.
Putting a finger to his lips, Prometheus led Deucalion through the gate for his first visit in Olympus. As the door closed behind them, the last glint of the golden gate dissipated.
Everything was blue. Even their skin looked blue. Prometheus motioned for his protégé to follow him and they walked up the staircase. He kept his head down as he climbed, almost crawling like an animal. At the top, he stopped, peering over the edge, where the stairs slowly evened out into a road. It snaked forward, disappearing between the glass houses of the city.
Prometheus paused and turned to Deucalion. But he wasn't here. Prometheus' head jolted around but the young man was nowhere to be seen.
He turned back to the city. Deucalion stood in the middle of the road, his hands outstretched to the city.
"Deucalion!" Prometheus hissed. But the man didn't hear him. "Get back here!"
Deucalion started walking forward, his feet dragging, and his arms swaying limply at his sides.
Prometheus cursed under his breath and ran after him. As he approached, voices started echoing off the walls. A small light appeared further up the road.
He crashed into Deucalion, slapping a hand over his mouth and throwing them both off the road and into the clouds.
Just below the surface of the clouds, their fall jolted to a stop. As if someone had lassoed a rope around their waists. The only thing stopping them from plunging the rest of the way down to earth was a layer of clouds so thin they could see the dark green treetops, miles below.
The voices grew louder, but muffled. The light grew brighter, but dull. Prometheus kept his hand clapped over Deucalion's mouth. The younger man didn't protest, his eyes clear and his body limp.
The light paused above them, swaying above the clouds. After a moment, the voices softened and the light disappeared. A single giggle rang out before everything was quiet.
Prometheus let go of Deucalion and let out a deep breath. He didn't realized he had been holding it.
Deucalion sat up, the top of his hair, barely peaking over the surface of the clouds. His eyes were wide and alert. "What just happened?"
Prometheus closed his eyes an waited until he caught his breath. "You were...awestruck."
"Awestruck?"
"It's your first time in Olympus. And you are only human. It's understandable. I just should have been better prepared." He sat up. "It was my fault."
"Who were those people?"
Prometheus raised brows. He was expected at least a half-hearted argument for the blame. "Minor gods. I think the woman was Hebe, the goddess of youth. The others could have been Asclepius or Pan."
"Why aren't they asleep?"
"Gods don't need sleep. They do it for pleasure. Today, apparently, socializing with one another seemed more interesting."
"What if we run into them again?"
"We kill them."
Deucalion rolled his eyes. "Does this look like the time for jests?"
Prometheus stood up, his head and chest disappearing above the clouds. He vaulted back onto the silvery road and crouched low, his eyes scanning for any movement.
Deucalion's head popped out of the clouds and he crawled to the edge of the road, pulling himself up beside Prometheus. The glass was cool under his palms, his hands sweaty and warm.
"Let's go." Prometheus remained crouched as he jetted for the nearest house. Deucalion's hands slipped on the glass, but he caught himself and darted after the Titan.
They crouched behind a house, their backs pressed against the wall. Prometheus glanced around a corner. The street was quiet.
"I think we're safe," he said straightening up. "Just keep an eye out and an ear attentive."
The two men continued down the street. Prometheus kept his gaze forward, down the winding walkway, waiting for it to start ascending towards the Dome of Thrones. Deucalion stayed a step behind, his arms folded, trying to warm up as the night air nipped at him. His eyes darted around, calm but unnerved.
The rest of their trek was without incident, but still they crawled up the steps to the Dome, knowing that the rise would make them more conspicuous from the ground.
At the large marble doors, Prometheus pressed a finger to his lips and pushed it open just enough for them to slip through.
As Deucalion's foot touched the cold limestone floors, a light flashed from the centre of the dome, throwing both men against the wall.
Through the light, Prometheus could make out a large cloaked form. It's eyes flashed through the fire.