Chapter 29* Battle Cries
“Alright people,” I call. My voice rings out loud and clear over the hubbub in the dining hall- amazing how thirty or so people could make that much noise. The noise subsides to murmurs. “Thank you.”
“The Battle Plan is ready,” Sam says next to me. Flickers of interest light up in many eyes, and all the able-bodied men sit up a little straighter, sensing that this was their call. “The Crown of Zeus which is the thing we have to destroy to annihilate all evil gods is on Mount Olympus.” He then proceeds to explain how a Portal was created to get there.
“Once on Mount Olympus,” Zoey takes over, “we have to start searching for the Crown of Zeus, which is Zeus’s most prized possession. It is, according to godly legend-” she glances over at Gemini- “kept in a box of unknown magical properties and can only be touched by godly hands. However, many gods will undoubtedly try to stop us. So-” She waves to me to continue.
“So we must have diversions. Diversions all over the world to keep the gods busy. Gemini, Kayla, Sam and Zoey will be the crack team going onto Mount Olympus to try and retrieve and destroy the Crown. The rest of your able-bodied men and women and children who are deemed fit to go will travel using the old teleporter Sam and I arrived here with to specific locations set up. Once there, you incite a god or goddess and do your best to keep them busy.”
“Hang on a minute,” someone speaks up from the crowd. “Did I just hear- men and women and children?”
“Only those deemed fit to go,” I correct, pursing my lips. This was the part of the plan we knew would garner dislikes.
“But that’s unorthodox!” the lady cries, looking around at the crowd. “Only the men should go. Women aren’t made to fight, and neither are the kids.”
“It’s the only way we’ll have enough manpower. Look, fighting a god isn’t an easy task. Especially since we’ll all be spread so thin. You’re going to need all the help you can get. The kids can stay out of sight and, uh, pelt rocks or something.”
“I refuse!” the woman says with righteous fury. “Who’s with me?” There is a murmur of assent from the crowd.
“Look,” I say, gritting my teeth. “This isn’t a time to play it safe.”
“You’ll get us all killed.” This is a different voice, and I look at Jeremy in surprise. He is standing beside the leader of the resistance, Charles, with a face as hard as stone. His posture is rigid and stiff, and his hands are curled into fists. It takes a minute for me to realize that he isn’t speaking to me.
“People like you who want to play it safe every second never take chances,” he says. “People like you don’t take risks and so you never get anything out of the things you do. People like you don’t know what’s at stake and try to act like you do. Don’t you know, can’t you see, that everything here is going to be gone if we don’t win? This is our one chance, Mabel. Our one chance to put things right. Don’t hinder it because you’re a coward.”
The woman- Mabel- flushes bright red, and sits down. The people who have been nodding look down at their clasped hands in their laps, embarrassed. I shoot Jeremy a grateful glance, and clear my throat.
“We wouldn’t have made this decision if we didn’t have any other choice,” Gemini says to everyone, his tone surprisingly gentle and mature. “But you trusted us to lead, and we think this is what’s gonna save us. Does anyone have any violent objections?”
A little boy in the crowd raises his hand, looking eager. “Mr. Gemini!”
“Yes?” Gemini looks unnerved.
“Do we get to pick our own teams?”
Atermis has blessed us with a horn. It is a delicate thing made of thin, translucent shell, and laced with crescents and knobs dashed pink, but it makes a surprisingly loud sound when blown. It shall be our battle cry, humanity’s last effort, and I only hope our roar will be as loud.
The crack team that will be sent to Mount Olympus consists of Gemini, Sam, Zoey, Atermis, Apollo, and me. Three gods, three humans. The rest of us have been split and divided into teams, the little children armed with slingshots and hard rocks to pelt the enemy with. I’m not sure how much use it will be against a god or goddess, but it is better than sending them out there with nothing but their wits.
A few of the teens like Jeremy have been given fine weapons. It is an odd but familiar mix of old and new- things people found scavenging along the way to the Resistance, and even weapons crafted right here in these caves.
Just now, Farah pulled me aside to give me a quiver and a bow she had fashioned herself. It was a beautiful thing made of honeyed red oak, and painted white and brown in swirling tribal patterns.
“It saved my life many times on my way here,” she had said with a toothy old grin.
“Surely you didn’t fashion it on your journey itself?” I asked dubiously. “It’s beautiful, yet this kind of craftsmanship-”
“Don’t be silly, my dear child. This hung for years on my cabin wall up at my home. It never did anything, just hung there and looked pretty. It was the second last thing I grabbed before I made it out.”
“What was the last thing?”
“My grandchild.” Her lips pressed into a thin line as her eyes misted, then sparked with renewed vigor. “You’ve given us hope again, girl. We win or die trying.”
I gave old Farah a hug, knowing it may be the last time I ever saw her, and thanked her once again for the quiver and bow.
Now, standing in the hall, I feel a pang of sadness. These walls have come to be home to me. I have become familiar with its grooves and my feet find an easy, loping tread here, following an easy, familiar pattern. I’m about to leave it. Around me, many people are weeping, though just as many have drawn, staunch faces.
“Kayla.” I hear Sam’s voice and turn towards the sound. He’s coming up right behind me, armed with light weapons. His face is pinched but unafraid, just tired. His arms come around me and I lean into his embrace, burying my face in the warm crook of his neck. My lips brush the soft, warm skin there, and he clutches me tighter.
He doesn’t bother saying anything. He knows there is nothing to say. We have but hours left, and we do not intend to fill it with words that lack passion and depth, words that have been said by kings and beggars and common men. No, we intend to fill it with feeling. What I feel will always belong to me.
He presses his lips to my temple. An unspoken message flits between us, and without further communication we walk to a more secluded area- the entrance to the vacated kitchens. The inside is bare and the air is musty, but it will suit our purpose. We walk until my back is flush with the wall, and his arms are cocooning me again, safe like safety gear. I can feel the hilt of his blades pressing into my pelvic bone.
For a short moment, our eyes bore into each other’s, brown against brown. His are cinnamon and right now, whisky hot, and my breath comes in gasps and stutters as he presses his lips to mine with a low growl. So little time left. I kiss him back just as fiercely, always with that undercurrent of sweet ache. I kiss him like there is no more time left in the world- there is none. I kiss him like a Queen must have her husband before the sieges came to slew them. I kiss him, I kiss him. He kisses me back.
And then we are breaking apart and without even looking at each other, swaddling our belongings and returning to the hall.
My eyes burn. I will not cry.
It has begun to rain outside. The drops hit the ground hard and fast, and the thunder claps are simultaneous with the flashes of lightning. This storm is right above us. Soon, the haze of rain makes it impossible to see more than a few meters out of the caves.
“Will this affect any part of the plan?” I yell to Gemini, over the din of the rain.
“No, unless you’re afraid of a little wet,” he shouts back with a grin.
“I am!” shouts another voice… One I haven’t heard in a long time. I turn to face the newcomer. “Apollo.”
“Sassmaster,” he corrects me. His dirty blonde hair, usually carefully styled to look like he’d just rolled out of bed, is mussed and uncharacteristically messy even for him. He holds out his right hand. In his palm lies a bundle of arrows, and I cannot help a sharp intake of breath.
“These are beautiful.” And indeed, they are. A few arrows are sleek and silver, feathered grey. Even without holding them, I know they are balanced perfectly. The other arrows are silver too, but tipped with a fiery red point instead of shining metal.
“The ones tipped with silver are light and easy to shoot,” he says, “and will nearly always find their mark.” His wink tells me magic has something to do with it. “They are from Atermis. The red-tipped ones are from me, and they are poisoned. Strong enough to kill a god.”
My eyes widen. “You’re kidding.”
“I am not.” He looks grim, yet altogether pleased with himself. “One more thing.” He touches my upper left arm with a light, cool touch, and a zap of electricity jumps from his fingertips to my skin. It zips around on the flesh for a moment, then disappears. A moment later a silver square shimmers into being. It is small, hardly two centimeters, and is only visible caught in the right light.
“This is one of my godly gifts,” Apollo says. “It is a healing square. No matter how grave the injury is, no matter how severe, it will heal you. All you have to do is press two fingers to it. You don’t have to only use it for yourself. But keep in mind there is only one charge.”
I am speechless. I don’t know what to say. Suddenly being bestowed with all these gifts- Farah’s bow and quiver, the arrows (they must have noticed) and the priceless healing square- makes me feel like I am not going into the lion’s den alone. Of course, I never was, but now I know how many people- god and human alike- are banking on the success of this plan. How many people trust me on this, how many people I cannot fail.
I will not fail.
“Thank you, Apollo,” I say, finding my voice. And then I bow my head in respect. For a moment he loses his façade of a smart-mouthed, smug teenager, and I see his true nature reflected in the orbs of his eyes- an ancient, lyrical god. Apollo.
I take the arrows and step away. They fit perfectly into the quiver- just the right height- and for practice I shoot a few into the wall of the cave. The arrows sink into the rock like it is butter (I use only the silver-tipped ones), and no matter where I’m aiming, at a hidden cornice or a single speck of white- the arrow finds its mark.
Zoey watched Kayla shoot arrows with remarkable ease into the cave wall. Her stance was near perfect, and her back was taut with effort, but it was not difficult to see that she was beautiful. Sam was right to love her.
“You seem deep in thought.”
She started at the sound, then gritted her teeth. “What do you want, Gemini?”
“You get snarky fast,” he said, and a sad smile curved the edge of his lips. “Don’t you, Kowalski?”
“Don’t call me that,” she sighed. “That’s a name for who I used to be.”
“Will you come with me for a moment?” he said abruptly. “I need to show you something.” Without waiting for her to answer he turned and started walking into the corner of the dining hall, where the shadows converged. Another sigh, and she followed.
“Don’t tell me, you want to-” she began, but he silenced her with a palm of his hand.
“Are you ever intending to tell them your true identity?” he asked, his eyes serious. Zoey casted her gaze down, not wanting to look at him. The silence wore on, and finally she let her breath out in a whoosh.
“No.”
“There’s something I didn’t tell them about the box.”
“The box where the crown is kept?” She was suddenly all ears.
“Yes. The box- it’s actually more of a large bubble, though- is rigged with difficulties. I know… because I was called to help make some of them. Changes might have been wrought over the years, though- I don’t know. The point is, I know the triumph of the design. The last lock cannot be opened by just anyone- it can only be opened by Zeus’s own hand, or by someone with his blood. Someone who isn’t a god.” He paused. “Do you know what I’m saying, Zoey?”
“Yes,” she said, unfazed. “So I am the only one who gets to open it. Hooray.”
“You don’t understand,” he said, suddenly angry. His fist slammed the wall beside her head. “This means you die. Opening it requires the sacrifice of a life, unless you’re Zeus, which you’re not!”
It hit her, then, like a small truck she’d seen from a long way off only to realize it was a freight train before it collided. She was going to die. It had always been a possibility, but now it was true. No matter what. She was going to die.
It was a terrifying thought, being handed your death sentence all at once like that. To know with such certainty that the end approached. And not being able to do anything to stop it, because it was necessary.
She didn’t want to die.
Zoey cleared her throat. “I’m going to die.”
“Yes.” Gemini’s eyes were shining. “And your soul will go to Hades, but if we succeed, there won’t be a Hades to go to anymore.”
“Then what will happen to me?”
“You will die. Truly. Your soul would dissipate. It would be tugged apart, and spread into the Void, and there you will be unable to cry out or do anything, and eventually fall into the depths of unconsciousness and never awake again. You-”
“Stop!” The tears were gathering in the back of her eyes. “Stop. I don’t want to hear anymore.”
“Okay.” His voice was soft. His hands were even softer, as they cupped her cheeks and lifted her face to his.
“I would say that I would keep you safe,” he said, “but I cannot.”
“I know,” she whispered. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Why… why do you feel this way? For me? I want to know.”
“You look like her.” Gemini’s eyes were troubled. “Like my old love.”
Zoey pulled away. “So you like me because I look like someone you once loved.” She wouldn’t say it, but that hurt.
“Initially,” Gemini said. “Now I like you. The real you, not some shadow of her.”
Zoey hesitated. Part of her still felt second-rate, but another part knew that Gemini was telling the truth. And anyway, time was limited. “That’s fine with me,” she said, finally, laughing in tears. He pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss before embracing her with his arms. She laid her head on his broad expanse of chest and listened to his heartbeat. Gods had a heartbeat.
“Why didn’t you say this at the meeting?” she said, after a while.
“They would never have allowed the plan to go forth if I had. Humans, foolish as they are, love each other with a depth and complexity a god cannot begin to imagine.”
“You’re a god,” Zoey said sadly.
“Yes,” he whispered back, “I’m banking on that.”
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Hello guys sorry for the long absence!! I thought I posted this but then I realized I didn't so argh I'm sorry for making you wait so long. I'm an idiot.
If you're still sticking with this story hopefully please continue sticking a little bit more as I have plans. In my mind. *Evil grin* People are gonna di- *Chokes* sorry I just got choked by Zoey. She's telling me that I'm not supposed to say anything to you. Okay. Okay well.
Goobye :) See you soon!
xoxoxo Abigail