Eris (The Lost Goddesses #4)

Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

E nzo had a throbbing pulse behind his eyes that he was doing his best to ignore and had a double vision that he was trying to pay attention to. He was getting strange flashes of the places they drove by as if one eye could see the present and one eye could see the past.

Dry, rocky hills were green; the buildings were smaller and more compact, and there were more farms around them. It was wilder and simpler. Every time they were heading in the right direction, he would see more.

"I hate this so much," Eris admitted.

Enzo placed a comforting hand on her knee. "It's going to break your curse."

"I don't want it to break you in the process," she said, her hand dropping to squeeze his.

Enzo knew worrying for anyone was a new experience for her, so he didn't try and tell her that he was fine. He didn't want to lie to her. While he didn't think the palladium would hurt him intentionally, it was determined to get what it wanted.

"Turn here," Enzo said as his vision split to a dirt path and a paved road.

Eris did as he asked. "It will be night soon. If it gets too dark, we might have to call it and try again tomorrow. You mentioned caves once before. We could head over to Mount Ida tomorrow and see if it is what she wants."

"It's this way. I know it is. I can't explain the feeling. I'm seeing the road she wants us to take, but her memories of it are ancient, so I'm doing my best to navigate on the roads now," Enzo said and leaned forward to rest his head between his knees. Nausea clenched his stomach. "Oh, fuck, stop. I'm going to be sick."

Eris pulled over and cars honked irritably behind them. Enzo opened the door and vomited on the dry ground. His vision spun, and he heaved again. Eris appeared by his side, laid a damp paper napkin on the back of his neck and passed him a bottle of water.

"Drink this. It might help," she said softly, running her fingers through his hair. Enzo rinsed out his mouth before swallowing a few large mouthfuls.

"I'm sorry," he groaned.

"This isn't your fault, Enzo." Eris kept stroking his hair and neck, and he leaned into the touch. "Maybe we need to go back for the night. I don't want you getting worse."

An invisible hand squeezed Enzo's chest and tugged him forward. "No, it will get worse if we go back. We are close. We have to keep going. I don't think it's much further."

"Okay, but I don't like it," Eris said, her mouth pressing into a tight line.

"I know. Trust me, we are close," he insisted and got back in the car.

Eris found the plastic shopping bag that their pastry snacks had come in and handed it to him. There were a few more paper napkins inside that he got out in case he needed them.

"Tell me if I need to stop again. I don't care if we piss off every malaka on this road if we have to," she said and started the car again.

"I promise I will," Enzo said, clutching onto the bag. "Drive slower if you can. I'm going to try and keep my eyes closed and see if it helps with the motion sickness."

They had to stop another two more times in the next thirty minutes. The sun was setting as they wound up the final part of a hill and the feeling in Enzo's chest blossomed like a tiny supernova.

"Here, it's here somewhere. Where are we?" he asked and opened his itching eyes. The sun was setting like a bloody smear on the sky, and a chill swept through him.

"This is Papoura Hill," Eris replied, checking the map on her phone. There was fencing up all around the area, but there didn't seem to be any security guards.

Enzo got out of the car and a sense of rightness seeped through him. "Definitely the place." He drained his water before unclipping the palladium and lifting her out.

"Try and warn me if you start to get another vision," Eris said, moving to the gate. "I don't need you toppling off into the darkness somewhere."

Eris grabbed the padlock on the gate and snapped the chain with a vicious yank. She conjured one of the pale magic lights like she did in the Sibyl's cave and sent it out over the area. The silver light touched the stone and lit the eight concentric circles they made.

"Fates. It's a labyrinth, just as you said," Eris gasped.

Enzo's grip on the palladium tightened. "Eris…I think I'm about to have another vision," he whispered.

The palladium went warm in his hands, and the night changed to a gray sky.

He could taste ash and death as he stepped into the labyrinth. The gods were angry, and he didn't know how to make them stop. He began to dance the path, his body moving in the steps his mother had taught him, and her mother before her. There was no music, just the soft breath he exhaled as he danced deeper and deeper along the paths.

The power of the place, activated by the dance, began to thrum through his legs, his torso, his arms. He was lost in the labyrinth now, and he let it take him, let it be a prayer to the gods to stop the black skies, the waves that had been battering the shores and stealing away whole settlements.

Enesidaon, the Earth Shaker, was unleashing his anger and had ignored their offering of the holy bulls. Only their powerful goddess would be able to help them now.

" Atana Potinija, help us. Atana Potinija, shine on us once more." He chanted and danced and danced, until he no longer felt his body, until he was nothing at all. The earth shook as he neared the center, and it all came crashing down on top of him.

Enzo's feet stumbled in his dance, and he fell to his knees in the center of the labyrinth. He placed the palladium on the earth, and he was in the ashy landscape once more.

The seven hems of her skirts were smeared with ash and mud as she knelt in the ruins of her labyrinth. The golden tattoos of snakes going up each of her strong brown arms shone brightly as lightning split the sky. In the gloom, she spotted a man walking up the trails of the mountain toward her. He had come with the invaders on their ships. Her people hadn't fought them, only accepted the grain and wine the strangers had brought with them.

This one coming to her was no man. He was a god. The Thunder Bringer . She didn't have the strength to hate him, not as she wished to, because her people were eating now because of him.

The god's long hair was tied back with a leather thong, and his beard dripped with the misting rain that was now falling on them. Eyes as golden as the lightning splitting the sky looked down on her.

"You are the one the people call Atana Potinija," he said, voice deep as the thunder.

Atana only nodded and rose to her feet. "I was her. The Sun Goddess. They called me until the island to the north erupted under Enesidaon's wrath and covered my sun with his infernal ash."

Her hand gripped the leather handle of her labrys , the bronze ax begging to split this interloper's skull. What would be the point? His death wouldn't make the ash clouds go away, but maybe his powerful storm winds could.

"My brother has gone too far in his anger, and we all now bear the consequences of it."

"And are you here to finish me off, Thunder Bringer? I may seem weak, but I have enough in me to make you work for your victory," Atana declared, her pride and boldness still alive even if her lands were dying.

The god only shook his head. "No. There has been enough death. I offer you another life. I'm building a family of those like us. Join me."

"I am not suited to be a wife," Atana said, her grip on the ax tightening.

The god chuckled deeply. "Your ferocity and gray eyes are lovely enough that I would want you, but no. Matrimony does not suit someone as powerful and as old as you. You can become my daughter. Your people, my children."

Atana stared up at the sky and shut her eyes against the rain. She could still hear their screaming and taste their blood and sorrow soaking the earth. "Two things I shall ask of you, and then I will bind my power in service of your own."

"Name them," he said gently.

"Blow the ash from the skies so my people can grow their food once more," Atana said and opened her eyes again. "And take my memories of their pain and this place from me. I will never be able to become something new otherwise. It would be a kindness, and I know one such as you is too brutal to be called kind. But I ask it all the same. Do it for me, and I will bind my power to you."

The god smiled, and he was handsome. And for once, he did choose to be kind. "Take my hands, Atana, and I will do these favors for you."

Atana let go of her ax and rested her hands on his. "Thank you…Father."

"Welcome to the family, daughter. I have a feeling you are going to be my favorite, if for no other reason than the fact that you thought about killing me. That was wise of you. Just like it was wise for you to stay your hand. You chose strategy over might. I admire that."

"I may kill you yet, Father," she replied, and that made him laugh loudly.

"Consider me warned, daughter."

The god was still smiling, and his golden power rolled over her, taking parts of her that she would no longer need. He didn't need them either, so he forced them into the only tree left standing in her sacred place.

By the time he was done, the tree was gone, and a likeness of her remained in the truck. He picked it up and hefted it over one shoulder before offering the new goddess his hand.

"Come, Athena. I know the perfect place to put this," he said.

She took his hand, and they walked back down the mountain together.