Curses of Olympus (The Olympus Trilogy #2)

35. Arachne

35

ARACHNE

C yril walks into the library, and Arachne blushes into the book she is reading. Still not used to be perceived so regularly, she finds it both terrifying and thrilling.

With little to do to be of use to the Allegiance, she spends most of her time in the library, devouring each story she can get her hands on. Every day she and Hestia would smile politely to each other and then go about their reading, but before long the two found themselves reading together in silence at the same table—Hestia with her Book of Fates, and Arachne with one adventure after the next.

Watching Cyril cross the room to her, Arachne cannot help but notice the alluring way his dark curls fall into his face, or the warmth of his lopsided smile.

She was turned into a spider at such a young age; she has had little experience with love. Little flirtations, sure, but love ? If she has any experience with it, it was so long ago that Arachne cannot even be certain her memories of it would be accurate.

“I’m famished. Would you care to accompany me for some food?” Cyril asks, his eyes eagerly awaiting Arachne’s answer.

She nods, dropping her gaze to her hands in her lap where she wrings the fabric of her skirts. Wearing clothing still feels odd, but this dress is so beautiful, and Arachne enjoys the way the soft pink of it looks against her pale skin.

Cyril extends his elbow to Arachne as she stands from the table. She loops her arm through his, tucking a strand of her long white hair that has come loose behind her ear.

As they walk together to the dining hall, Cyril talks excitedly about his training with Icarus. His excitement sparks a jealousy in Arachne, but not over Cyril’s attention. She would give anything to have the powers and strength of Icarus so she could bring that bitch Athena to her knees.

If Arachne were a Phoenix, she would show those gods exactly what it feels like to live in fear of their tyranny.

“Where did you go?” Cyril asks, bringing Arachne back to the present.

Deciding on honesty, she replies, “I wish I could do some of things Icarus can. I want to help you in your fight against the Pantheon, and I just feel useless.”

“Hey, don’t say that.” Cyril stops and puts his hands on her shoulders. “Besides, one of the things that makes leaving the safety of the Allegiance to go on these runs so much easier is the knowledge that when I return, I will be able to continue getting to know you.”

Arachne’s stomach fills with butterflies at the sincerity in his voice and expression. How can this man look at her with stars in his eyes when she has no clue who she is anymore?

She cannot remember the girl she was before her curse, and desperately wants to figure it out outside of her spider form.

Although, moments like this when the emotions are overwhelming, she almost wishes she could return to her arachnid state and skitter away to hide from being perceived. Perhaps it is not so bad though, when it comes with such a pleasing smile.

They resume walking as Cyril twines his fingers between Arachne’s, and despite her nonchalant reaction, her heart thumps a mile a minute.

“I have to leave again after dinner,” Cyril says after a moment.

Arachne sighs sadly, but she knows how important his missions are. Arachne will never forget the haunted looks in the eyes of the many children Cyril has brought safely into the folds of the Allegiance and won’t ask him to risk the lives of those simply for selfish reasons.

When they are almost to the dining hall, Cyril comes to a stop once more, turning to Arachne.

“I am really going to miss you while I am gone.” Cyril shifts his weight between his feet nervously. “I would to, erm, would it be all right if I kissed you? If not, that will not change my warm feelings for you. Please do not feel pressured. I promise I?—”

Arachne puts a finger gently over his lips to silence him. “I would like that very much,” she murmurs.

The anxiety eases from his expression, and he grins at her. “Are you sure?”

Smiling shyly, Arachne steps into his space and says, “Most definitely.”

Cyril lowers his face, and his lips hover just inches from hers, allowing her that final moment of consent as she steps onto her tiptoes and kisses him.

Arachne’s heart surges as their lips stay softly pressed together, before she parts hers for him and his tongue slides into her mouth. A restrained groan escapes him, and his desire for her is intoxicating. With this newfound confidence and headiness, Arachne laces her fingers around his neck, digging them into his thick dark curls.

She swears she sees stars when they finally part and walk into the dining hall together with broad, silly grins plastered across their faces.

A fter dinner and seeing Cyril off, Arachne wanders around a small harbor of the Underworld. There is heavy daily Pantheon traffic at the main marina as shipments of food and supplies come and go. As a result, Allegiance operations must be conducted from a peripheral location so the hustle and bustle are absent.

Not ready for bed yet but also not in mood to read, Arachne decides to go for a warm soak in one of the bath houses.

While a lot of the rooms have their own private bathing pools, the public ones are still a common gathering place for relaxing conversation and socialization. This time of night, it will not be too crowded, but she will also not likely be alone with her thoughts.

Her assumptions are confirmed when there is only a handful of people in the humid space.

Scanning the room, Arachne spots Icarus waving her over to one of the pools along the far wall with open windows overlooking the dark mountainside.

Arachne is grateful for a friendly face and undresses, then steps into the warm water.

“I’m surprised you’re not on the mission with Cyril,” Arachne says softly. Her voice still so timid as she gets used to using it again.

Icarus sags her shoulders. “I wish. The Allegiance says I am too valuable of an asset to send out on everyday missions. Especially while we are still learning the full extent of my abilities.”

“You don’t sound like you agree with them.”

“I don’t. I joined the Heroes because I wanted to help people. When I saw the truth of who they were, I joined the Allegiance. I just want to protect the innocent and make my time here mean something.” She presses her lips together.

Arachne nods. “I completely understand. I do not even know who I am, much less what I bring to the table. But I want to help.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Icarus removes the tie from the end of her braid, loosening the plait until her hair falls freely around her shoulders.

“I suppose,” Arachne answers hesitantly.

“How did you end up as a spider?”

“Oh, that.” Her expression sours. “Athena.”

Icarus’s eyes go wide. “As in the Goddess of Wisdom and War Athena ? That Athena?” she asks.

“The one and only,” Arachne replies with a wry chuckle.

“Tell me everything,” Icarus implores, before adding, “Please, if you can.”

“I grew up in a small village near the Temple of the Hunt. My family lived in the foothills of Mount Eurymanthus and raised sheep. My sisters and I were in charge of spinning the wool into thread to take to market.

“When I was very little, my mother showed me how to take some of the wool that was not suitable to sell and weave it in the beautiful loom we had in our family room. Every single night, Mama and I would weave at the loom while my sisters sat in front of the hearth and Papa told us stories.”

Arachne takes a breath, continuing when Icarus says nothing.

“Over the years, I got quite good at weaving. There was one other girl in our village who could weave almost as well as me, Lyantha. I was fifteen and headstrong, and I let my emotions get the better of me one day when I found her flirting with Tynias, the boy I loved.

“In my years of reflection since, I see the likelihood that Tynias lied to both of us to string us along. Back then, however, I believed he loved me and that she was a threat.”

Arachne’s cheeks flush with shame.

She goes on, “Lyantha boasted to Tynias that she could best me at anything, even weaving. Me, being the stupid teenager I was, responded that not even the mighty Athena could best me at weaving, even if she had the loom of Daedalus.”

“Oh, dear.” Icarus covers her mouth in shock.

“I know now how idiotic that was, to challenge a god so brazenly, but I don’t think children really believe the stories of how fragile the gods egos are. We chalk it up as an exaggeration to teach us the importance of a humble ego, not that they will literally materialize out of thin air and turn us into monsters for insulting them.”

Icarus shakes her head. “You couldn’t have known.”

“There was never even a contest. She turned me into a spider for having the audacity to even make the claim in the first place. Part of the curse was losing the memory of my name.”

Icarus is silent for a moment, then says, “I have never seen that side of Athena before.”

“Had you not heard the rumors of her nasty temper?” Arachne asks.

She makes a face. “When you are in her favor, I imagine she hides that part of herself. What a manipulative bitch!”

Arachne laughs at Icarus’s indignation on her behalf, and it soothes some of the lingering trauma.

“Thank you,” Icarus says softly. “For sharing your story with me.”